I Took a Hike, by Will

Last week was an rough week for me. The previous Friday I woke up and found out a friend of mine had suffered a massive heart attack and died the day before. I couldn't believe what I was reading, and spent several minutes searching Facebook to make sure I had really read what I had just read. Josh couldn't be dead, he was so full of life, such an amazing guy, and yet his wife's post was so clear, Josh was gone. I went to work, but I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Monday I took the day off, I just needed some time to process the reality of what was happening. I went to a familiar trail, one that I have hiked for the past 10 years. I got to the trail-head later than I would have liked, but due to the current pandemic, there was only one car in the parking lot when I pulled in. I had the woods pretty much to myself, I didn't see anyone for almost two hours, and I hiked the slowest hike I have ever walked.

Usually I just get out to cover miles and clear my head, but today I was there to process so many things. The reality of death doesn't freak me out, but this one was close. Josh had been one of the biggest encouragers I had ever met; he believed in me more than I believed in me at times, and even though I hadn't seen him in years, he made an impact on my life. I needed some time just to let reality sink in.

Then there is everything CPE has been bringing to the surface. I've learned so much about myself, which is the point of CPE, and there are so many things I'm wanting to further explore. I've thought about moments in life that have caused pain, moments that have caused me to put my guard up, moments that have made me shut down the part of me that feels and cause me to keep people at arms length. There is a lot of work I need to do in this area, and it's a scary task because of the vulnerability that is required, not simply to undergo the process, but in the way I need to live life as a result of the process.

I walked, one foot in front of the other, covering about five miles in three hours, I've never moved that slowly on a trail. I took in the woods, I know this trail so well, and I was saddened by all of the destruction I noticed. Maybe it was everything that was on my mind, maybe it was the season, but I just noticed so many downed trees, broken branches, and just a mess of tangled tree limbs along the trail. It was a mess, not the normal beauty that this part of Ohio has, and it saddened me, making a somber hike even more dismal. I found myself with a bit of hopelessness.

The world is dealing with a global pandemic. A wife no longer has a husband, four children no longer have their dad. I haven't seen my girls in weeks, the legal process seems like it's going to go on forever, and I'm looking for answers and a ear to hear my concerns over my girls that no one seems to care about. My wife's business hasn't grown like she would like, and I feel very stuck with where my life is at and seems to be going. The woods just added to my feelings of hopelessness, and then I came to spot where I used to water my dog when we would hike together.

There is a small stream the comes from the rock, it pools and then flows down through the woods to a creek in a valley. As I stood an looked into the woods, my eyes caught the green plants beginning to grow from the forest floor. Amidst old fallen trees and the dead leaves, new life was emerging from the ground.

This pandemic will not last forever. The hard times that we are facing now will come to an end. Though life will not be the same, there is hope and life even in the midst of death and despair. After death of winter, spring comes again.


Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11

TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!