A few weeks ago, some of the Wandering Men, myself, my dog, and my four-year old son went out to an area in northeastern Alabama called the Walls of Jericho. It's an area that has been hailed as the "Grand Canyon of the South" and I have to say that it is pretty darn impressive. However, this blog is not about the Walls, the woods, or what went on there; it is about what I learned that day. Even though the trip happened several days ago, the lessons are still very fresh with me.
As I said, my four-year old (lets call him Petow) went along with us on the hike. Now, anyone that's been hiking knows that it's not the easiest thing in the world to do and also that it's usually not the sort of environment in which one finds children. However, Petow is a tough lil' kid (always has been) and he's NOT a complainer or a whiner, he loves being outdoors, and even at four he's a very determined young man. And let me tell you - HE DID AWESOME. Not only did he go hiking with us, but he also joined us as we journeyed into a cave we found, and never once did he complain - that's just the kind of awesome kid that he is.
That's Petow, on the left...
Petow, sliding down into the cave.
First caving trip at 4! w00t!
Although he did not complain, he did not have an easy time of it. The trails in north Alabama, being part of the Appalachian foothills, are usually riddled with stones of all sizes - a flat and gentle spot in the trail is a rarity (and one to be thankful for, I might add). As such, Petow's short legs had a tough time getting up and over and around all those rocks - for most of the trail he walked beside me, holding my hand. Occasionally, he rode on someone's shoulders, or held another's hand, of course, but usually, he was at my side and I helped him navigate the rock-strewn path.
Petow on the trail...
Yes, I am headed somewhere with this.
My lesson began shortly after lunch. We'd assumed (wrongly) that the feature for which we'd come to see (the aforementioned "Walls") was closer to our river-side lunch spot. After we'd walked for just a bit, I realized that Petow was NOT going to make it - he was getting very tired and very sleepy. So, I told the other fellows to move on ahead, take lots of pics, and Petow and I began to head back up towards the car. I knew what I had to do - I was going to have to carry my four year old son all the way back up the trail. Now, Petow is NOT a small boy; he's actually almost as big as his 8-yr. old brother, in fact, and I was looking at nearly 1,000 feet of elevation gain in less than 2 miles.
This was not going to be fun.
Oddly, however, I never questioned it; I simply put Petow into my pack, (feet first, with his torso sticking out the top) made a little pillow for him with a jacket, put him on my back and started trudging up the trail... My boy quickly fell asleep. I tried talking to him for awhile to try and keep him awake (as I knew what was coming if he fell asleep) but it was to no avail. Soon, he was sacked out - hard.
I've done a fair amount of hiking and I've earned my trail name of "Pack Mule" time and time again, but let me tell you, I've never hiked a tougher trail than I did that day. When you hike with a pack, the pack shifts a little - right to left - with each step you take. This is one of the reasons why your back aches so much when you've been hiking for a long time with a loaded pack - your back muscles make tiny, minute adjustments for the load that you're carrying without you ever knowing what is going on.
However, with my sleeping son in the pack behind me, with each step the pack would do its normal shift, but then Petow would shift a bit more to that side, his torso lolling out like a top-heavy puppet on a stick. This then forced me to compensate even more to the opposite side, in order to keep him from falling out of the top of the pack and onto the trail below. To make matters worse, there were trees and rocks on the trail that I did not even consider on the way down that now I had to tread very tentatively around, as they were now exactly at Petow's head level!
Needless to say, the heavy weight on my back, the additional compensation, the extreme elevation gain, and the sheer worry soon began to get the better of me. Along with the normal scalding fire in my calves and thighs and the low, rumbling pain in my back, there came a peculiar sensation along the right side of my neck - a pulse-buzz that was mildly disturbing. At first, I did not worry too much about it and continued to press onwards and upwards - until my vision in my right eye began to pulse and blur.
I stopped dead in my tracks and began to pray. Honestly, at that moment, I thought I was about to have a heart attack or a stroke right there on the side of that mountain. As I prayed, God revealed something to me.
What I was doing on the side of that hill was a small example of what God does for us. When we walk through life, he stays with us - sometimes holding our hands and sometimes following along behind, as a watchful father, keeping an eye out for troubles or problems ahead in the path. If we listen to him, then he will help us avoid those pitfalls (much like I did many times with Petow). If we ignore him as we walk, then we often suffer for it, much in the same way that Petow might have suffered a scrape if he'd not heeded my words to slow down or not to climb on a certain rock, for example.
Often God walks right beside us and holds our hand every step of the way. If we are in tune with him, then we can acknowledge this and thank him for it; but often we are too enamored by the scenery as we walk to pay any mind to Him. However, we subconsciously hold on to the security of his hand, all the same.
I never once questioned carrying my son up that hill. I knew that it was going to be a very hard and painful thing to do, yet never once did I think, "Well, I can just leave the kid here and come back for him later..." That would have been ludicrous! What God revealed to me that day was that he feels the same way about us; I love my son so much that I would literally carry him on my back up a mountain - God loves us so much that he would do something infinitely more difficult and painful: send His Son to die for our transgressions against Him.
People jokingly ask, "What Would Jesus Do?"; I think that know, I have an entirely new appreciation for that question - and it's answer...
Thanks, Petow, for teachin' your ol' man a lesson. Thanks, Jesus, for loving that ol' man enough to take pity on him and lay down your life and shed your blood for him (and everyone else - that means you...).
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