Petals of mountain laurel lined the path for part of our hike.

I’m learning that on every trip, there will be moments that throw me out of my comfort zone and cause me to scramble a bit, pray harder, and just meet the anxiety head on and deal with it.  To be sure, I’ve already had a few of those this week, and ultimately they’re good as they remind me that I am most surely not in control of this rodeo (I feel the need to say rodeo since I am headed into cowboy country).  These moments also take me back to some pondering I did on last summer’s trip (Calm in the Storm) as I considered fear.  It can come in the form of a white-knuckle drive, or a bear in my path (nope, not this year), or just that feeling that things are out of my control.

So I remind myself to take a breath and not let it control me, rob me, or steal my contentment.  I’m all His, so even if it’s momentarily out of my comfort zone and control – God’s got me in His gracious grip.  Or in Aaron Rodgers’-speak, R-E-L-A-X.

This particular experience is a walking metaphor, served up on a platter. After our night at Koomer’s Ridge camping, Lexi and I took off early the next morning to explore a few trails and see some of the natural rock arches that are dotted all over the landscape of the Gorge.  I had the sense that our campground was perched high on the cliffs, and once on the trail, that proved to be accurate.  About 5 minutes in, the rain came –  a hard, quick and beautiful summer rain.  It didn’t last but 20 minutes, but enough to make the trail slick and add a shroud of mystery to the morning.

We were headed to Silvermine Arch.  I’d read about it and purposely camped at Koomer’s Ridge because the trailhead was in our campground, not 100 yards from where we slept.  The first half mile or so, easy peasy.  Beautiful path with mature trees all around and the quiet that comes after a morning rain. We had the trail to ourselves, but I kept Lexi on a leash since we were in unfamiliar territory.  And then it took a downward turn – quite literally.  Ok, the giant steps in the middle of the jungly forest were actually pretty cool, though I had the sense we were descending into something spooky.

At the bottom, the trail wound down past gigantic outcroppings of rock, which on a sunny day with friends would have seemed pretty awesome.  But, as I held on to Lexi’s leash partially in fear over her taking a mean tumble, partly to let her strength provide balance for me, I just had that hair-standing-up-at-the-back-of-my-neck feeling.

I pressed on because I was sure the payoff would be worth it.  It wasn’t.  It was so dark and slippery and the gigantic boulders seemed more ominous than awesome.  Not to mention that it just felt that something had to be living in and around that rocky arch, and if there was a need for a quick getaway. . . well, I really really hoped that wasn’t necessary.  And I need to add that if you check out the link to the trail at the top of this paragraph, I strongly disagree with the “easy hike” comment!

Dejected, dirty and a little rattled, we turned back.  I was thrilled to finally reach the massive stairway out of hell.  At the top, I paused to catch my breath, shafts of sunlight peeking through the rain-soaked canopy of trees. Lexi heard something in the brush, dashed after it, and I lost the leash.  Twenty feet to my right loomed a cliff with a deathly drop off.  She and the squirrel sprinted right for it.

I thought that was it, and she’d be gone. The whole thing flashed through my brain like a done deal, and  I tasted the fear in that brief moment.  She stopped herself, poised at the top, and came running back to me with that goofy happy golden face that all retriever owners know well. I don’t know if she was oblivious to the danger or she knew exactly where she stopped.  A bad moment.  Fear again.  Shaking and grateful, I berated myself for not holding on tighter.  For not being more in control of the situation.  We moved away from the edges and put our feet back on solid ground, my heart pounding.  Honestly it was already pounding from the climb – anxiety just increased the tempo!

Lessons abound from this, and while it made me feel a little sick living the Lexi part of it over again, it reminds me to trust Him again today, with whatever comes.

Also, the recognition that we went down into the pit, chasing after something that looked good on paper.  (The reviews were great, after all!)  It started out harmless enough, and I was drawn in by the cool staircase and the confidence that many others had gone before me on this path.  But in the end, it wasn’t for me.  I even pressed on further than I should have, as the trail got downright treacherous.  And then fear, even if it was somewhat irrational in hindsight.  And then peace, with that Francesca Battistelli line “I am free.  Got my own identity, so fear, you will never be welcome here!”  flashing through my head. Songs are good for stuff like that :).

But then I think,  God showed me most clearly  in that moment when Lexi darted away towards the edge of the cliff (and please know that cliff is exactly the right word here – gulp) – He reminded me that when He pulls me out of the pit, to be thankful, to praise Him for it, but not just for that convenient moment.  He is worthy to trust with my next steps, and the ones after that.  Because for me, in that quick turnaround between gratefulness to be back in the sunlight and fear that my sweet puppy was about to do something horrific, my trust and my faith was shaken.  Badly.

And then there she was, happy and oblivious and ready to go anywhere with me.  I remember berating myself at that moment, frustrated with my own lack of faith.  Please, I know you may be thinking words like “just a dog”, but this girl is way more than that.  Lexington Hope was God’s perfect provision for me at a pretty dark time.  He wasn’t going to take her now.

Honestly, this story was meant to just be a side note, not an entire post.  But there you have it.  Know that God will pull you out of the pit and that He is faithful!  And in the meantime, we are rolling on into the sunshine and heading west, ready for whatever adventures await.

Be content with what you have, for He has said, I will never leave you nor forsake you. (Hebrews 13:5)  And I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation . . . I can do all this through him who gives me strength.  (Phil. 4:11,13)