One Foot in Front of the Other

I’m not much of an athlete. Truthfully, I’m not athletic at all. Not even a little. And I’m definitely NEVER a runner, unless something big and scary is chasing me! (That’s someone else’s joke, but I own the truth of it!)

One physical activity that I do love is hiking. It’s not competitive. It doesn’t require that I be fast or particularly coordinated or graceful. Most importantly to me, it’s not just surviving to the finish line, which, in a marathon, I surely would not! Soaking up the beauty of the trail itself and its surroundings is what makes it so enjoyable for me. I don’t just press on, forcing my body to reach the end of the path. Rather, I work at training my mind and senses to tune in to the gifts of each step along the way. The challenges of fallen branches or steep inclines push my body, while my soul is stimulated to feel more alive and grateful for the beauty of God’s creation and the consciousness of being an integral part of it. The more I lean in to these exertions, the greater my endurance and the stronger my muscles become, and the more my soul is nourished.

Maybe the author of the book of Hebrews was at some point a competitive athlete, perhaps a distance runner as opposed to a sprinter, or an avid fan of the games, making the illustration he wrote in Hebrews 12:1 about “running with perseverance the race that is set before us” one that was especially invigorating to him. That verse is inspiring to me, but it doesn’t resonate with me in the same way as the verses that talk about our spiritual journey. Nonetheless, his point is not wasted on me. We must be determined to do what needs to be done to run our spiritual race with focus, discipline, and determination, keeping our eyes on Jesus, and our hearts pressing toward heaven.

I rarely hike more than a few miles, but I have dreamed of having the strength, endurance and wherewithal to do a hiking journe like those amazing trekkers that take on the nearly 2200 mile long Appalachian trail. Now that would take some perseverance!

Some people who take on this massive journey endeavor to beat the times of those who have gone before, but I wouldn’t be found in their company. You would find me with those folks who were determined to never lose their sense of wonder as the path unfolds before them. They would have no intention of losing awareness of their destination and what it will take to get there, but they most definitely would be the ones who are all about appreciating the spectacular journey that they are on and reveling in it with their traveling companions!

This is what I think it means to live fully in today while having an eternal perspective. Living with my husband’s terminal diagnosis shatters any notions that any moment can be taken for granted. I’m not just talking about the major holidays or family vacations, I’m talking about literal MOMENTS…giggling from our daughter as Daddy tickles her with his beard, morning hugs and hot coffee at the kitchen counter, hand-holding in church, admiring the birds at the feeder together, reading aloud before bed, inside jokes that make our kids roll their eyes as we share a private laugh…It’s all sacred beauty on the path. The way I put one step in front of the other as we face the overwhelming climb of living with brain cancer is to revel in the glory all around us, and to live and breathe gratitude to the Father for every bit of it.

A few years ago, I read Ann Voskamp’s book One Thousand Gifts, and it was life changing for me. It made me realize that I do not have to deny the harsh realities of my life to be utterly thankful for it. I can be present in this moment, experiencing it ALL…the joy, the pain, the confusion, the wonder, even the fear, and still be able to say without hesitation, “God has been so good to me, and even if the path only gets thornier, I trust that He walks with me.” Am I afraid that I’m not up to the climb? Emphatically, YES. And yet I know somewhere deep in the fiber of my being that it’s ok that I’m not that strong. He won’t leave me there alone on the path, lame and broken by despair. My hope is in Him, not the beauty or ease of the path. I have no doubt that at times it will be too much for me. I know that I will have to rest often. And sometimes, that rest may look like complete collapse, but I’m certain that I am safe to collapse in His arms and take the time I need to be healed and restored for the journey ahead.

For me, to be “in this world but not of it” is a twofold challenge. We have indescribable blessings in our human life, and God-given purpose, and we are to be people who radiate joy. When I embrace all that, the temptation is to somehow disconnect from the ultimate destination that is set before me. I want to cling tightly to the blessings of this temporary life, which is understandable; after all, every good and perfect gift is from God. But then, when I have a close encounter with the evil and trauma of living in this world, I can be equally tempted to squeeze my eyes shut and deny the blessings and purpose that I have been given. In those moments, I just want to cry out, “Beam me up, Scotty!” (If you don’t get it, watch an episode of the original Star Trek series.) In those moments I’m willing to forego the beauty of the journey and skip to the getting home safely part.

When I’m on a trail, I am filled with a sense of awe of being in the midst of creation, and I love it so much that I’m willing to endure its unexpected difficulties. All the while, I am fully aware and confident that I will come out at a trailhead and move back into a very different environment – one that is more conducive to my existence as a human being – think indoor plumbing, climate control, no bugs, and the like! Similarly, our circumstances in this world are never going to be the environment we were made for. When we expect it to offer us the safety and serenity of heaven, we will wrestle endlessly with a sense of somehow being cheated in life. I have come to believe that the fact that there is any beauty and joy in this fallen world at all is a tremendous gift of grace from the Father. He is unwilling to let us make the journey without surrounding us with glimpses of heaven that beckon us onward toward His open arms. Our call is to allow His Spirit within us to keep us alert and aware of His presence. We must choose to lean on Him to strengthen us, guide us, and to help us testify to others that

His path is the place of refuge that they are looking for. This is how it is possible to drink in the beauty of this life, endure its pain, and still have heaven in our hearts.

“The Lord is my best friend and my shepherd.

I always have more than enough.

He offers a resting place for me in His luxurious love.

His tracks take me to an oasis of peace, the quiet brook of bliss.

That’s where He restores and revives my life.

He opens before me pathways to God’s pleasure and leads me along in His footsteps of righteousness so that I can bring honor to His name.

Lord, even when your path takes me through the valley of deepest darkness, fear will never conquer me, for You already have!

You remain close to me and lead me through it all the way.

Your authority is my strength and my peace.

The comfort of Your love takes away my fear.

I’ll never be lonely, for You are near.

You become my delicious feast even when my enemies dare to fight.

You anoint me with the fragrance of Your Holy Spirit;

You give me all I can drink of you until my heart overflows.

So why would I fear the future?

For Your goodness and love pursue me all the days of my life.

Then afterward, when my life is through, I’ll return to Your glorious presence to be forever with You!”

Psalm 23

The Passion Translation

Pressing on heavenward with you, my friends! Let’s help one another to notice God’s handiwork all around us, encourage one another when the climb is steep and perilous, and be quick to thank Him for His faithfulness to us every step of the way!

Blessings, Rachel