This time on Bush Mountain I was extra diligent to not get lost again like I did the last time I hiked up here. I kept an eye out for the rock piles the National Forest Service trail crews built to mark the trail, especially in places where it’s easy to get lost.
What a joy it was every time I saw one of those piles of rocks. Up on top of these rocky Guadalupe Mountains everything looks like a trail. If you veer off the trail only a few feet it’s very hard to find again. Not only do these piles help you find the trail if you get lost, they help to confirm you’re still on the trail every time you see it so you know you aren’t lost yet.
I thought how easy it is to distinguish the rocks piled on one another by God from the stacks built by trail crews. God put the mountains in place, giving us humans a reason to build trails and hike on them. God piled lots of rocks all around, but He didn’t pile these particular rocks. Some person did that.
Of course, God could have put those trail markers there, since He’s certainly capable, but He didn’t. It takes the work of other people, people who’ve traveled this trail before, to mark the way.
God counts on us to help each other find the way, find the path, and get where we need to go. He counts on us, like partners. And so those who maintain these trails help the rest of us find them; they go to the trouble to stack rocks at important places to make sure guys like me don’t get lost.
I thought of what Philip Yancey wrote about God’s desire to work with us humans as partners. God is in charge, and makes all things happen, but a lot of things of God will not happen if some human doesn’t step up and do his share. For His own reasons, God prefers to work with us that way.
And so God made these mountains for me to enjoy, so I could escape to commune with Him, and He is counting on His partners, other humans, to help me find the trail and know the way.
And something else I thought as I stood on Bush Mountain catching my breath: if you want to see these particular markers, you’ve got to pay the price. You have to hike the hard trail with the heavy pack, you’ve got to carry the gear you need, you’ve got to train yourself, take some risks, read the map, follow the advice from people. That doesn’t mean backpackers are better than everybody else. It just means they’ve seen something that most other people don’t get to see.
It’s true in life; it’s true in relationships: if you want to get to the high country, you’ve got to pay the price, follow the advice of people, and do the hard training. But it is worth it. You get to travel where few people go. You get to experience the scenery from the top of the mountain. You get to see the world from the perspective of being loved in a deep relationship.
If you’re not willing to do that, you may spend your entire life down in the parking lot in the heat, hoping for shade and buying cokes out of the vending machine. Maybe that’s OK, but it isn’t the best. Whether we’re talking about relationships, or music, or spiritual growth, or a hobby, or worship, or teaching, or our careers, if you want to see the high country you have to hike the trail, do the hard work, learn the skills, follow the advice.
Donald Miller gave an illustration of airline pilots passing weather data back to pilots following behind them, and asking information from planes ahead of them. Each pilot needed the information from those who’d gone before, and each had an obligation, responsibility, to pass what he knew to those following behind. It was a long continuous stream of pilots passing along what they’d learned. And even the pilots who’d just taken off had at least some weather data to give to those still on the ground.
This time on Bush Mountain I paused to rebuild one of the trail markers, restacking the rocks so they would be obvious to the next hiker. No matter how long we’ve been traveling, or how far along we are along the journey, we have an obligation to pass on to others what we’ve learned so far, and the obligation to listen to the wisdom of those ahead of us.
Some great thoughts. Thanks for sharing.