Saturday, November 19, 2011

"Desolation Wilderness"

        Two weeks ago, Mark and I were sitting on the porch of the Blue Agave looking out at Lake Tahoe.  We were enjoying the best Mexican food we had experienced in a long time, time alone and  a beautiful view of the lake.  But, my heart was very weary.  "I don't think this weekend will be enough.  I can't imagine going home refueled and ready for normal life."  Having planned this weekend to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary, these were not the words Mark wanted to hear from me.  Normal life seemed unrelenting in its demands and increasingly, when I dug deep for the energy to push through each day, I was finding no reserve.  I was coming up empty and even in a beautiful place, alone with my husband, I couldn't imagine ever recapturing the energy I needed.  My tiredness seemed terminal.


The next day, we had planned a 10 mile hike into the Desolation Wilderness.  If the name wasn't enough to inspire fear and trepidation, I was also extremely nervous about encountering bears.  We'd seen too many in the Tetons summer before last and now there were only two of us.  In the wilderness, especially the desolate wilderness, doesn't one expect to find wild things?!   So with apprehension we started out early on a hike that I soon realized was a snapshot of my life.



The trail was comprised mainly of rocks:  small, jagged rocks, huge floors of rock, rock steps, massive boulders.  The first 2 miles, we ascended 2000 feet.  Hiking was strenuous and exhausting.  But, the vistas of mountains and Lake Tahoe in the distance were breathtaking.    In the midst of exerting ourselves in the Desolation Wilderness, God showed up.  Over the six hours of hiking, these are some of the truths God spoke into my weary heart.
 The destination makes a journey's effort worthwhile. . . .

We eventually arrived at two pristine lakes:  Upper Velma and Middle Velma.  Upper Velma was my favorite.  A small lake surrounding by mammoth boulders with an active stream flowing out of it.  We sat by this stream, water skipping over a rocky bed,  with our feet dangling in its cold waters.  Several times we took our shoes and socks off to cross over, as we tried to follow the trail to Middle Velma.  The water was cold, exhilarating, restoring.  I became 10 years old again, thoroughly enchanted by such beauty and just wanting to play in the water.  The rugged terrain and difficult hike had used every ounce of my strength and left my legs shaking.  Every step I took I had to push down my fear of encountering a bear.  But because of our perseverance, we arrived at a place of exquisite beauty.  Daunting circumstances and personal exhaustion is only part of the story.  Our destination was well worth the effort.  Exhaustion gave way to exhilaration.

There is beauty on every journey. . .

The Desolation Wilderness really was desolate.  There were lots of rocks and resilient, twisted pine trees.  Ironically, we saw no wildlife apart from a very infrequent bird.  The landscape was beautiful in a very haunting  way.  But there were surprises.  We hiked through patches of snow and saw rock pools still filled with water from the spring run-off.  We saw fragile wildflowers and large rocks that were inexplicably balanced.  At one protected place on the mountain we came into a mini-forest that was suddenly lush with vegetation -- flowers, bushes and even ferns, all sustained by an underground spring.  We were surprised by beauty long before we reached our destination.

It's easy to lose the path. . . 

Because we were hiking across rocks, it was often hard to discern which way the trail went.  There were many off-shoots that were actually dead-ends.  Several times we had to stop and backtrack.  Mark was good at looking for "signs" like the rock cairns that prior hikers had left.  Without Mark, I would have easily lost my way.  Difficult trails require trusted companions to help keep you on the right path. Godly friends are not optional. . . they are essential.  Not only do they make the journey entirely more enjoyable; they speak the necessary truths to keep my feet on God's path, not detoured by my own pride, self-pity, exhaustion or desire for that elusive "easy button".

Find your pace. . .

My Dad use to say that I had two speeds:  go fast and stop.  That inborn tendency has only strengthened with age, although these days tiredness often wins over industriousness!   I am all about conquering whatever mountain is in front of me!  So when Mark and I were hiking, I was thrilled with how much faster we could go without carrying 25 lbs. backpacks.  I mentioned this to Mark, who casually commented, "The important thing in hiking is to find your pace and stick with it."  This comment was like a little pebble dropped into the pool of my soul.  I thought nothing about it at the time, but several weeks later it came back to me as I reengaged with "normal" life and my typical "go fast/stop" pace.  I realized that perhaps I needed to "find my pace" in life and stick with it.  I needed to stop living off of passion and momentary bursts of energy and really ask God to give me His pace.   Of course, this means sitting still and asking God, letting Him be my most trusted companion.  It means putting one foot in front of the other in the tedious tasks of cooking, laundry, bathing kids, putting sheets on the bed.   It means receiving moments of rest and not pushing through to get ahead of my to-do list in the elusive hope that I'll ever be "done"!

God loves me. . . .
Who am I, that God  would transport me (via Mark!) across the country, simply to speak to my heart? Who else makes a sermon out of a hike?   Who else brings beauty out of desolation and restores hope in the midst of exhaustion?    I am a daughter who is humbled to realize that God stops at nothing to communicate His love for me.