Into the Unknown

Climbing a 14’er is absolutely insane. The challenge of summiting a 14,000 foot peak, or anything near or beyond that range, demands some crazy things.

Like starting at the unearthly hour of 3 in the morning, for one.

The one time I experienced this I will never forget. Huddling together in the trailhead parking lot, warding off the pitch-black chill through sheer willpower and hand warmers, our small group of hikers discussed the challenge, made a game plan, established exit-buddies, and then briskly set off.

And I kid you not, two minutes in, my headlamp died.

Luckily though, I was hiking with good friends, and the caboose of our group offered to basically walk next to me for the duration of the darkness until sunrise, sharing the light of his small lamp between us. And along a rocky trail, definitely not designed for side-by-side hiking, this presented a unique hurdle that required some communication and teamwork.

“Jack, I need you to look down,” I remember laughing at one point. Everything always seems funnier during those I-should-still-be-in-a-deep-REM-cycle-why-am-I-even-here hours.

“What do you mean?” He asked, patiently bearing with my lack of both preparedness and extra AA batteries.

“You’re looking too far ahead, I don’t need to see what’s up there!” I explained, pointing in the general direction of the 7 miles we still had ahead. “I just need you to show me the trail right in front of me, right where I’m walking, just so I can take the next step.”

Almost 6 hours later, we somehow did reach the summit. Subtle flex, I know.

But that delirious conversation in the chill and quiet morning around tree line in Rocky Mountain National Park has stuck with me.

I don’t need to see what’s up there. I just need to see the trail right in front of me, right where I’m walking, just so I can take the next step.

Wow. Do I ever say these words to Jesus?

Sometimes in our culture, there can be a lot of pressure to have a plan. How many times do I mentally calculate the plan for the next phase of my life, the next year, the next five years, the next ten? How many times are we socially reinforced this message through the small-talk at parties and gatherings? By how having a plan is applauded, respected, admired, and even envied by our peers?

And how many times do I desire one simply for myself? We feel pressure to come up with a solid, realistic, and concrete plan for our lives because that offers us a sense of security and stability. Why? Because facing the unknown is hard! I don’t want to be clueless as to what’s coming up ahead! That would require me to relinquish control and begin to trust… yea, no thank you. I would totally rather want to know what’s going to happen every step along the way of life. Every step to the summit.

And yet, when I find myself hiking, I realize that when a flashlight is shown far down the trail, it doesn’t really work that well. That’s not really how a flashlight is meant to be used. And in fact when shown too far ahead, it takes light away from the most important part of the trail, the very next step.

Am I getting so caught up in planning for the future, for the next twenty steps ahead, for the turns in the road that I can’t even see yet, that it’s causing me to stumble on the trail right at my feet? Is my obsession and preoccupation with the future hindering my present?

I’m not saying you should throw out your retirement plans, your savings accounts, your goals and dreams and bucket lists. I’m not saying don’t think ahead to that down payment on a house, that kid starting college, that destination wedding. Planning is good.

And the present is so very good. It’s just sometimes, I get so caught up in thinking about the future that I completely lose sight of the present moment. And while the Lord will be with me in the future, He is with me in the present. His grace and presence are right now. The Bible tells me that His word "is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path.” (Psalm 119:105) My feet. My path. Right in front of me.

This lamp is obviously not a floodlight, though oh how I frequently wish it was.

Sometimes, the future will be unknown. Sometimes we won’t know the exact date and timeline of the Lord’s will in advance. We won’t know when we’re gonna get married, have a child, get that job, buy a house, etc, etc. And that can be frustrating and unsettling. However, I encourage you in those moments of building anxiety to rest in the fact that He knows what will happen. God doesn’t tell us that we will always know the plans He has for us but that He will know these plans, and that they are for our good. (Jeremiah 29:11) He will show you what you need to know, when you need to know it. He will shine the light on your next step. He’s not going to shine it 100 feet, or even 5 years down the road all the time, because that’s not how light works.

And sometimes, even when the light’s not especially bright, He wants us to trust Him enough to take just one step forward and go from there.

Because He will be with you while you walk.

And you will, one step at a time, make it to the summit.

Angle the light beam down.