I Almost Missed It

In the middle of a rough and rocky wilderness road, I realized suddenly where I was. 

Don't look down.

I was driving for the first time a 4 x 4 truck on a 100 mile unimproved road through the Utah desert, on narrow paths along cliffs, and at times just feet from the edge of canyons.

I had no idea what I was doing.

My husband and I were participating in a three-day mountain biking and camping excursion in Canyonlands National Park, a remote and arid landscape in the vast wilderness of Utah.  The group would mountain bike the entire 100-mile White Rim Trail in three full days of cycling.  I expected to ride in the support truck through the flat terrain of the desert, from campsite to campsite.

But adventure always exceeds our expectations....and sometimes far beyond our perceived abilities. 

That first morning, moments before we started out, the team leaders decided to bring along not just one support vehicle, but two instead, accounting for the forecast of inclement weather.  Instantly, I was no longer a passenger, but a driver.  I didn't even have enough time to panic over the thought.  The first incline was a serpentine narrow road.  "Just get me through that harrowing part," I told them, "and I'll be ok driving the rest." And so someone else drove that initial scary part.  The rest will be breeze, compared to that. Just a flat dusty road.

Or so I thought.

But my plans were pathetic compared to what God had in mind.  I love that God desires to surprise us and to shake us out of our complacent attitudes, convenient plans, and comfortable surroundings, no matter where we are, even on the most ordinary of days and even in the remarkable.

There was grace in not knowing what was ahead of me.  The reality was far beyond my fears, worries, expectations, or even of what I considered my skill set. What emerged was an elevated narrative as God intended all along. 

And somehow, there was no room for debilitating fear in the cab of that truck. Instead, I was in awe of my surroundings.  I was awestruck by God.  I was actually enjoying this adventure.  Even the hard parts.

Before I knew what I would be doing, before we left for the trip and drew closer to our departure, the weather forecast grew more dismal by the day.  Temperatures continued to drop, the chance of rain multiplied, and the wind velocity increased. Daily, I grew more hesitant to go as the trip appeared more and more out of my comfort zone.  We were going to be tent camping in that.

"It's going to be cold,"  I said to Bill.  "It's going to be wet.  It's going to be hard."

And he replied:  "It's going to be epic."  Far more than I anticipated.

Yes, it was cold.  It rained buckets. We experienced wind, rain, hail, and at times, brilliant blue skies peeking through. The 100-mile road was rockier, steeper, and sometimes indecipherable. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is that really the road?  Is that glimmer of water on the trail just a shallow puddle or a deep crater the size of a Chicago pothole?  And more times than I could count, the road dropped away into a canyon just feet away from where I was driving.  Don't look down.  It was an adventure I could not have made up in any kind of fiction.

And over and over, when the impossible appeared before me, God gave me another gear that I never knew I had.  

 

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope.

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases,

His mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

great is Your faithfulness.

                      Lamentations 3. 21-23

The views outdid one another in grandeur every time the road curved and another panorama appeared.  God whispered His strength through the hard stuff.  He shouted His glory through creation all around us, from the tiniest cactus stubbornly holding its ground to the monumental cathedrals carved by the sheer rock walls and canyons.  God enlarged our range of vision in more ways than one. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was mesmerized by the landscape.  It was not so barren at all.  I was surprised by the story unfolding before me, that which was enjoyed, shared, suffered and lived through. 

I almost missed it by bowing to my fears and excuses.  I can't do it.  Not in me.  Not on my life.  And I would have been far poorer from missing that incredible experience.

And I think of what I almost miss daily.  Am I open to God's adventures in what He places before me today?  Not my will, but His.  Not my plans, but His.  Not even on my radar, but in His design for me and others this day.

Do I face today with the attitude of ordinary, or really hard, or "it's going to be epic" -- far deeper than I can imagine?

God brings the epic to it.   And that would be His glory.