Six national parks, 4 states, s’mores every night? Count me in! A few weeks ago, I went on a two-week camping adventure with my youngest daughter Libby. As a college graduation gift what she really wanted was to head west and tour some of our nation’s parks. The best part? She wanted me to go with her. That’s right; she chose her mom as her traveling companion. Because I’m wired to study, I ordered a good ‘ole fashioned road atlas and began mapping out route possibilities to include drive times and campsites. In the final days before we embarked, the written plan and detailed itinerary revealed itself; on paper, we were ready. We had broken in our hiking boots and stocked the 4-runner. Utah, here we come!
However, as my feet actually hit the trail at Arches National Park, our first stop, fear punched me right in the chest. Never had I seen such immense formations and vast landscape, much less traversed such steep, dangerous terrain. Reality struck. “Oh, no! Susan, what have you done?” I realized quickly that I have a very healthy respect for heights, to say the least. And, to top it off, I had failed to purchase a trekking pole. Really, are you kidding me? With each trail we explored came another opportunity for me to look fear in the face as we climbed and scrambled to the most awe-inspiring viewpoints unlike any I had ever seen. Admittedly, there were many moments I felt paralyzed and unable to make the ascent because the edge was too close and the cliff too menacing. All my mind’s eye could imagine was the wind lifting my body like a kite and flinging me against the canyon walls. Yet, in these moments Libby would reassuringly take my hand and become my human trekking pole. In fact, she had the brilliant idea that when I was feeling insecure or felt the first pangs of doubt, I should simply use the password, “Trekking Pole,” and that would be her cue to remain close within arm’s length of me. Her confident presence became my empowerment to press on and enjoy the journey even when it scared me. With each forward step I recalled Psalm 23, “Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” As I thought of these verses, I understood the Lord was using this trip to expose the truth that fear had become too loud, too influential in my life. This journey was tangible evidence that my own strength is not enough, and that’s okay. I can trust that God goes before me, and his strength is sufficient. I can fully rely on the love He has for me, and that it’s good to ask for help when I’m “stuck” because, in all my efforts to be brave, I don’t always have to go it alone.
Even today, now that we are home and packing for Libby’s next adventure, medical school, I feel the hand of God as he pushes me towards new challenges, new heights, and new places of trust. His reassuring spirit allows me to understand that He is my trekking pole. He is enabling me to rise to the challenge of letting her go on without me and face unknowns courageously. I am learning to travel the rocky, sometimes steep road of life in community with those who are willing to invite, encourage, and even lead me along the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Bottomline, I can let go because I am held, loved, and known by my God who will never let go.
