Hiking the "W": What I learned about life and God

Day1: The wind crashed into us at speeds that would call for a panic on the King 5 News team back home. It would have broken every Seattle record and Im sure lots of people would have died, trapped in their homes. The power would be out all over the state. It would have been a great Seattle catastrophe. We were in the middle of nowhere: Patagonia. Absolutely beautiful, terrifying, awe-inspiring. A winding, narrow dirt road took us to our destination via bus. Mountains jetting up into the sky, encircling and trapping us in. Guanacos, flamingos, crazy hawks..all caught our attention through the bus windows. And in a flash, we were there--grabbing our packs, bracing ourselves against the bitter wind, beginning our journey into the wilderness. First, a waterfall. Second, a boat ride...oh and on the boat, coffee. So far, so good. The boat took us across a lake and dropped us off on the other side. That is where our journey really began.

Hiking through the hills, stashing trail mix in my nylong travel pants pocket...not sure it will ever be socially acceptable to do this again, but I soaked up every minute. For 2 days, that trail mix was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. Now, I shudder, even when I write those two terrible words. We hiked for around 5 hours, stopping every now and then to take picturs, to rest. It was cold, but sunny, and well...breathtaking. We made it to camp, and I thought to myself that it was not nearly as bad as I anticipated. I could do this. And then it rained.

Day 2: Rain beat down on our tent during the night, and we woke up to wet shoes, and cold weather. Ice bergs floated by on the lake we camped next to. And it was absolutely freezing. The first half of the day was bearable. As I walked, I prayed and God talked to me about how life was a lot like hiking this trail. There were parts that were easy and fun, and other parts where I wanted to give up completely, that were hard and painful. I talked with God about being more active at home, about community, about people that I love.

And then the day took a turn for the worst. It rained and I was cold. Cold enough that I thought the my thoughts were freezing inside my head because I couldnt think clearly anymore. I was frustrated and uncomfortable. And then I told God that I didnt trust him anymore and I was angry at him and I wanted to go home. One time my shoulder gave out and a sharp pain overtook me. I had to stop. I had to give Cody my pack...which probably hurt my pride more than the pain in my shoulder. I walked behind everyone and stopped because I didnt think I could do this anymore. And thats when my friend stopped with me and waited with me and said that I could do this and that everything would be okay. And then after a few moments, I was okay. I put my pack back on and carried it the rest of the way. That night, I was still frustrated. I told Lindsey that I was going to go punch the mountain and Im pretty sure she believed me. I didnt talk to God much that night because I was still cold and frustrated.

Day 3: On day 3 I decided to trust God again. Maybe because I was able to sleep in and we only had to walk for 2 and a half hours. The day was short and still very cold. We stayed at a windy, rainy campsite at a "refugio", and were invited to a blazing campfire where a sheep was cooking over the open fire. We sat by the fire, attempting to speak in spanish, and made some new friends. After 4 hours of cooking, we were then invited to an "asada" and I ate lamb like I had never seen food in my life. That night I was restless in my sleeping bag, and then I prayed more. I felt God there, holding me, bear-hugging me, quieting my heart until I fell asleep.

Day 4: I talked to God a lot more on day 4. Even though this was technically the hardest day, I felt his joy propelling me up mountains, down hills, through valleys. I felt strong, hopeful, loved. Before we knew it, we had reached our destination. After setting up camp, we hiked up the steepest mountain yet to the Torres del Paine. And when we arrived...pure beauty. It was all worth it in that moment. Three rock towers flew up into the sky. In the valley below, an enchanting, pearl green lake glowed in all its glory. Indescribable. Lovely. A place where God himself dwells and where my mouth drops open in pure and utter wonder and amazement. Yes. It was worth it. Every last step.

Day 5: It was our final day. I felt strong again. But today my friends were in pain. Both of them had badly hurt knees. I walked behind with Lindsey and prayed for her with a desperation that I have come to realize should be in more of my prayers. Then we hiked and sang the rest of the way off that mountain. I prayed for joy and He made my heart sing. Lindseys knee was better, not completely, but enough to make it back down. And God was with us, right beside us, caring, loving, breathing life into our spirits.

And maybe thats what it was all about. Maybe it was about choosing joy. Maybe it was about believing God, trusting him to be bigger, to love me when I knew I didnt deserve it. We made it. After all of that, we made it. But I only made it because God was right beside me. I would have quit if he had not propelled me on. And so it is and will be with life. I need more bear-hugs. I need community. I need more of the one who I can trust to take me through my mountains.