Over and Over

Recently in a Conference meeting for our Camping Ministry, we began the conversation by recounting stories from a time we had spent in the wilderness. The stories ranged from a group of unprepared young adults hiking to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, a time with family in which a walking stick accidentally punctured a hornet's nest, a shared experience of not just having the itching feeling that a single mosquito leaves but the realization that all of your children are highly allergic to mosquitos prompting them to abandon their trip or weather that was so cold a couple pulled their chairs so close to a campfire that they melted the sole of their shoe (that would be me).  

The group laughed as the stories were told, as the inflection of one another's voices rose with excitement or dismay, we became quiet as more serious parts of the stories arose making room to honor what had taken shape.  In the sharing of the stories, I began to think about all the times I have had the unexpected occur.  I thought about the spring Luke and I had planned a 10-mile hike that began later than anticipated due to pouring down rain as if the heavens just opened up and wouldn't stop.  It wasn't just one thing that day that made the difference it was a whole series of events that left us battered by the end. The trail was more treacherous than described on the App, I had several falls that left my self-confidence shaken, and parts of the trail was washed away leaving us to scramble on and off the path.  We found ourselves in the shadows of the trees as the sun began to set leaving us feeling as if we were chasing after the last sliver of light off the trail before the sky turned black. That wasn't the only trip that flashed across my mind as if a movie were being played.  

I've had times when I was hiking alone and in the rush of moving, I failed to realize that I had lost my phone or my car keys and had to walk the entire trail again before locating the lost phone or returning to the car only to find a good samaritan had left the key on top of my car where no one had driven my car away. I've tripped and fallen with such force that black and blue bruises dotted my arms and legs.  Luke and I have had times that we hiked trails that were out of our ability range but we did it because we wanted the challenge only to leave us muttering to ourselves "Why in the world we said yes to this".

I have been fortunate enough to have experienced a blue brighter than blue along the way, lush that created shade and gave comfort on a long hot day, birds that sang to one another and allowed us to be part of their joy, sunrises, and sunsets that awakened my soul and allowed the scales on my heart to fall away.  A sense of accomplishment has been felt and friendships have been forged. Over and over we returned. 

We return to the trails over and over again because there is something powerful about walking and talking with one another, we have gained clarity or had moments of deep silence while discernment bubbled forth.  No matter how hard, how defeating, or how long or short the journey is we keep returning.

As my colleagues and I shared our stories I realized our returning to the outdoors mirrors our journey with Christ.  There is something invigorating that occurs when we step into this journey of discipleship.  The trails lead us to breathtaking vistas, that might leave us winded along the way but revive our souls once we arrive.  The journey of discipleship binds us together in a community that leaves us swatting the 'bees', singing songs of jubilation, and caring for one another in daunting situations, The trail of discipleship is filled with moments of discouragement that leave us muttering 'why me' in different seasons of life.  The trail of discipleship doesn't ask that we run the path with swiftness, it merely asks that we put one front in front of the other. 

So we return over and over.

Maybe today you are just lacing up your hiking boots for the first time in months (going to church after a long period of absence) perhaps wondering if you'll be able to complete the trail that before you (wonder if you'll be accepted if you sit in a pew), welcome the call and begin again.

Maybe you are walking a challenging trail and are wondering if you'll be left in the dark (you have more questions in your faith than you do assurance), keep going because you were made for such a time as this. 

Maybe your trail has been long and you are ready for a break(you've been serving on or leading a ministry team for some time), sit down and have a rest (don't be afraid to step away or turn it over to care for yourself), give yourself permission after all Jesus stopped along the way.

We return to Jesus over and over.

We return to one another over and over.

We return to the place in which God tends to us and asks nothing of us over and over.

Don't be afraid because we all the stories to tell and we can recount them together.