I tied my laces, adjusted the straps of my backpack, and breathed in and out, as deep as I could. The Appalachian Trail through the Great Smoky Mountains lay ahead – and as my sister and I started our hike, those little electric bolts of fear darted through me. My body was not feeling as strong as I would have liked, and my right hip had been nagging me just that morning.
What if I can’t make it? What if I have to stop? What if I injure my hip and back again?
Leaving Newfound Gap behind, we began to climb, with Tennessee to the north and North Carolina to the south, chattering away as a welcome distraction to my anxiety.
Amazingly, only after about ten minutes we were rewarded with a scenic view overlooking the Smokies, complete with early autumn wildflowers!
Enjoying the view and snapping pictures, my anxiety started to drift away. And we kept on going ahead, basking in the morning sunshine, and enjoying the lovely botanical sights.
After four miles and 1,600ft elevation change, we made it to the summit, a stone outcrop called Charles Bunion – and the views were breathtaking!!
My PBJ sandwich never tasted so good, as we sat on the side of the mountain soaking in the sweeping views, watching the clouds shifting, and admiring the lush vegetation with hints of fall sprinkled within. I breathed in the still air deeply, and let the quiet and peace seep into my body. (It was definitely a “glimmer” moment – check out one of my recent posts if you’re curious about that!)
The four miles back along the AT were tiring, even though the views were still breathtaking in the opposite direction. For about the last hour (it took us about 6 total!) my feet were aching and with every turn of the trail, I was hoping we were at the end.
It was a strenuous hike (and side note – really has me in utter comprehension how people do the entire Appalachian Trail – I don’t understand!). I was tired, and started to joke during that last hour, watching our steps ever more closely so that our fatigue didn’t result in a misstep or fall – “gosh, had I known it was going to be this long and difficult, maybe I would have thought twice about doing this!”
And isn’t that how life can feel at times? Particularly the Christian walk.
I can certainly say for myself, that the younger version of myself had a much more simple, idealistic, view of the world. As a 15 year old Christian girl who loved the Lord but was very naïve, had I known the challenges that I would experience in my Christian life at 25 and 35 (and who knows at 45), I probably would have said, “no, thanks God.” The trials would have seemed too daunting, to difficult.
And does anyone sign up for suffering? Of course not. I don’t think I am alone.
The truth is this life is not our home – it’s an exile, and one day, as believers we will truly dwell on the summit, the mountaintop with God.
Our strenuous trials are the seasons that are strengthening us, growing our character, and leading us to more beautiful places – even here on this momentary earth, where we can experience and know God. And don’t those moments of joy feel ever more sweeter once you’ve also tasted suffering?
One of my favorite authors, Eugene Peterson shares this about exile and suffering, in his book “Run With The Horse: The Quest for Life at its Best,” about the life of Jeremiah:
“It keeps on happening. Exile is the worst that reveals the best…When the superfluous is stripped away we find the essential – and the essential is God. Normal life is full of distractions and irrelvanices. Then catastrophe: Dislocation. Exile. Illness. Accident. Job loss. Divorce. Death. The reality of our lives is rearranged without anyone consulting us or waiting for or permission. We are no longer home.
All of us are given moments, days, months, years of exile. What will we do with them? Wish we were someplace else? Complain? Escape into fantasies? Drug ourselves into oblivion? Or build and plant and marry and seek the shalom of the place we inhabit and the people we are with? Exile reveals what really matters and frees us to pursue what really matters, which is to see the Lord with all our hearts.”
This is such an encouragement to me, and is a grown-up understanding of one of my favorite Scripture passages when I was younger – “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jer. 29:11) Now I know the context – the Israelites had been conquered and taken to a foreign land, stripped from the land God had promised them. What? THAT wasn’t supposed to happen!
And I can say that about my own life, just as all of us have some [insert suffering here] that wasn’t supposed to happen. The break-up, the divorce, the diagnosis, the child’s illness, a family member’s death, the job loss, the disappointment, the betrayal. THAT wasn’t supposed to happen. It can make life feel “not worth it” at times.
But oh there is joy too. At summits like Charles Bunion, and in little wildflowers along the way. There is friendship and love and people who fight for you (like my awesome sister!).
And there is the Creator of those mountains, those flowers, the people – though broken, also capable of beauty. He is the one that can bring redemption through our exile, through suffering. I see little glimpses of it each day – through grief that I never thought would go away, and I pray you do too.
And despite being exhausted by the end of that AT hike, what was also amazing is that my hip held up! I’m so grateful I didn’t let my fear hold me back. And the thing is — had I been alone, I probably would have. But being with my sister, having her encouragement, and presence, and trusting if I did have a problem, I’d be okay with her — have me the courage to press on. We need each other through strenuous times, throughout this exile!
So friend, whatever feels strenuous right now, or scary, I pray you discover the strength to go on.
This week, I’m preparing to travel back to a place of immense pain for me. I never wanted to go back, but the Lord has opened an incredible door through ministry. I would have never signed up for those years, and the losses still haunt me. And yet, I am so grateful for what the Lord has taught me through them, and how’s He’s changed me. He’s made my exile more bearable, and made me long more for the future promised land! So have courage, friends. Keep going, and remember these sweet words from Psalm 94. I will definitely be clinging to these this week and I hope you can too:
18 When I said, “My foot is slipping,”
your unfailing love, Lord, supported me.
19 When anxiety was great within me,
your consolation brought me joy.
