Acres of Hope

Today I watched the sunrise from the top of a mountain. And it was incredible.

A few weeks ago, I got the bright idea of doing a sunrise hike. I love sunrises and I love mountains. Why not merge the two? I originally wanted to do it on Easter Sunday, but for various reasons (I wanted to sleep in), it did not happen.

But today was the day. And it was perfect.

Last night I got everything ready. I packed my backpack with my journal and Bible. I filled my Camelbak with water. I set out my hiking boots. I set my alarm for 3:30am because the hike was an hour away and I needed time to get ready, get there, and get up the mountain before sunrise at 6:10.

The alarm went off quickly, as it always does when it’s set for such an early time. I got up and got ready.

I drove the hour or so to Sugarloaf mountain and this is where I started questioning my sanity. As I got further out of town, it got darker and darker, the roads began winding more and more, and I lost phone service. But something told me to keep going. I think it was the voice of adventure, pressing me on.

The somewhat steep, dirt road eventually led me to what I assumed was the parking area. This is the first time I almost backed out. “Come Back to Texas” by Bowling for Soup came on the radio and that was sounding pretty good right about then. What had I gotten myself into? It was completely black out there. As in, I couldn’t even see my hand when I put it in front of my face. I turned on my trusty iPhone flashlight and made my way to what I was 80% sure was the trailhead. 

I started the ascent, seeing only a couple of feet in front of me from the light of the flashlight, which suddenly seemed painfully inadequate. About 5 minutes in, I almost turned around for the second time. I started realizing that this may not have been such a good idea. I couldn’t see anything, I was literally the only human on the mountain, I had no idea what animals could be watching me, and I wasn’t entirely sure I was even on the right trail. Oh, and did I mention that it was eerily silent? It was the type of quiet that was unnerving. I could feel my heart pounding, both from the fear and from the fast pace I had been walking at. At this point, I pressed on , simply because I was just as scared to turn around as I was to keep going.

I stopped to catch my breath and again questioned my sanity. Then I heard it. Keep going. It’s worth it. I knew it was the Lord telling me to keep going. Though it seemed foolish, I knew I was in for a real treat if I kept going. And I knew that He was inviting me to conquer a little fear and have some adventure.

Proverbs 28:1 popped into my head. 

The wicked flee though no one pursues, but the righteous are as bold as a lion. 

No one was chasing me. And I was not going to flee. I kept saying “the righteous are as bold as a lion” over and over. Resolve was set in my heart. I kept going. With a little more gumption than before.

It got a little lighter the higher I climbed because the moon decided to come out from behind the clouds. I was finally able to see the summit. It was nice to be able to finally make out some sort of destination.

I eventually came to a part where the path led me away from the summit. I was literally going away from my goal. I was heading west and I knew the sun was going to rise in the east. I was confused for a few seconds. Then the Holy Spirit spoke quietly to me that sometimes the path He leads us on appears to go away from our promise. Yet, we have to trust the trail. We have to trust the process. I kept going and, you guessed it, it eventually turned and began heading straight to where I knew my reward was waiting. 

I summited with about 20 minutes to spare. The sun was supposed to rise at 6:10am. One time I checked my phone and the time was 5:55. Triple grace. (5 is the number for “grace” in Biblical numerology). As I sat there in the silence and waited for the grand moment, I started thinking about Psalm 84:5. I have lately been camped out in Psalm 84  and verse 5 popped into my head. Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.

Pilgrimage. I have been loving that word. I had made a pilgrimage that morning. A short one in the physical world, yes. But it was indicative of my journey in life. That morning, I started out excited, then was afraid and pretty sure I had made a really dumb mistake. But I kept going up the winding trail that appeared to lead me all over the place, believing that the end result would be worth it. Most importantly, I had listened to His voice. If He had told me to turn around, I would have. 

Insert all kinds of spiritual parallels. 

My season in Colorado has an expiration date, though I suspect I will be back. I couldn’t possibly explain everything that has gone on in me during this season. But that’s beside the point. I started thinking about a dream I had about a week ago. In the dream, I was in a grocery store checkout line and had tons of groceries that I was about to pay for. Everything had a price on it, but when I got up to the checker, the price was actually much higher than was marked. Then I woke up. I felt like the Lord was telling me that saying “yes” to Him has, in some ways, cost me more than I had planned on. But that He knows the cost and He knows the price I have paid. And He is so delighted and honored and pleased that I have said “yes” to Him anyway. No matter where it has lead me. No matter that sometimes the trail seems to lead the opposite direction of where I thought I was going. No matter that sometimes it has seemed so dark that I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face and I have felt unsure that I was even going in the right direction. No matter the times I couldn’t even visualize the goal and His promise seemed painfully distant.

And yes, the sunrise was absolutely worth the fear and uncertainty and discomfort. (I forgot to mention that it was cold and my Camelbak leaked and got my back and butt wet). By the time I got up there and enjoyed the view, I had mostly forgotten the fear that marked the beginning of the trail. Because it didn’t seem to matter anymore. 

Sunrises and sunsets stir my affection for my Creator; He knows that. 

And He really showed off to me this morning. He made me brave.