A few weeks ago, I set out on a hike in the Deschutes National Forest.  It was supposed to be just a quick little adventure to get the blood pumping and see a beautiful waterfall.  Afterwards, I was planning on doing a little boutique shopping in Bend.  My husband and I were waiting for some family to meet us for a weekend getaway.  He was working remotely, and the others weren’t due into town until that evening.  I hadn’t planned on having the time to hike, so I didn’t pack proper hiking shoes, my camelback or other essentials I normally hike with like a compass, mace, a knife, first aid kit, a space blanket, etc.  However, it’s just shy of never that I have the day completely to myself for the sheer purpose of pleasure, so although I wasn’t really prepared for the hike, I set out.

There I was in my Birkenstocks, with a small water bottle, one granola bar and my sunglasses. And my journal.  I love to journal.  The paved path started out with an amazing view of Tumalo Falls about 50 yards from the trailhead.  After weaving through the touristy crowd for about a half mile: families with young kids, a few elderly folks with canes and walkers, twenty something in spandex, the path turned to dirt, and I finally had some space to breathe.  As I came around the next bend, another equally beautiful waterfall came into view.  I opened up my “All Trails” app… there was no mention of another waterfall on the loop.  My pulse started to race.  I LOVE waterfalls.  I stood there in awe and excitement and in my headphones, I heard: 

“It’s extravagant, it doesn’t make sense. 
I’ll never comprehend the way you love us (me).
It’s unthinkable, only heaven knows
just how far you’d go,
to say you love us (me)”

I took some pictures and moved on down the path.  About a mile and a half in now, I passed a handful of people now and then.  Mostly, though, it was just me and my playlist.  Perfection.  And then it happened.  ANOTHER waterfall came into view.  “What the heck, Lord?  Now you are just showing off,” I thought to myself.  I sat down to enjoy the view and pulled out my journal.  I wrote:

Dirt
Sweat
Wander
Beauty
Worship
Solitude

Some of my favorite words.  I had a tangible feeling of a swelling within me that I have come to identify as the overflowing love of God.  Only He can pursue me in this specific way.  Only He knows exactly how to love me to the core of my being.  I kept writing, still not believing how the summary of this trail failed to mention the hidden gems of multiple waterfalls.  It got me thinking, and I chuckled to myself.  I checked the route of this loop trail and read some reviews, thinking I had a good sense of what it would be like and then boom.  Here I was with total unexpected views.  It’s funny though, isn’t it?  I mean, we all approach a trailhead and follow the path.  It’s just an accepted reality.  The path is there, and it is taking you somewhere.  All you have to do is follow it.  I wrote down my musings in my journal.

“Follow the path.  Trust that it is taking me somewhere.”

Fast forward another few miles.  I encountered several more waterfalls.  I was in heaven.  Totally by myself.  Taking beautiful pictures.  Rocking out to worship music.  Spending uninterrupted time with Jesus.

I don’t recall exactly when the shift occurred.  However, it slowly began to dawn on me that I had not seen another person in hours.  The trail was supposed to be a seven-mile loop.  I’m an above average hiker.  I am used to some elevation gain.  I figured this adventure would take me 3 hours or so – not including the extra time I take to stop and journal, pray, etc.  Ok, so maybe 4.5 hours.  My phone’s battery was dead at this point, so I didn’t know what time it was.  But the sun’s position in the sky made me suspicious that it was getting to be midafternoon.  I had planned on being boutique shopping by now.  Looking around, I saw the tree line fairly even to my line of sight and heard no trace of the rushing river that had contained so many of the waterfalls I enjoyed.  There was no way I was close to the end of the trail, and given my visual perspective, I wasn’t even on the way down.  One shake of my water bottle proved it to be empty and the wrapper of my sole granola bar crinkled in my pocket.  I had another palpable feeling rush through my body.  Fear.

I was now certain that I had somehow taken an unintended path.  Somehow, I had gotten off the loop trail.  Remember how I said I’m an above average hiker?  Yeah, well I’m also a control freak (working on that character flaw, but it’s tenacious!).  I also have a flair for the dramatic.  All of a sudden, I had a snapshot of a newspaper article detailing how rescuers found a blonde woman’s body somewhere in the Deschutes National Forest, totally unprepared.  I saw the words in the text detailing how she froze to death or starved to death or became so dehydrated she collapsed in delirium and was eaten by a wild animal, with only her dental records to identify her.  The article would use this woman as a cautionary tale to make sure future hikers pack enough water, have a compass, hike with a buddy, among other good sense warnings.  I was not going to be found dead and unprepared.  My pride just wouldn’t allow it. 

Those words I journaled came back to me in a still, small, unpanicked voice (read: definitely not my own). “Follow the path.”  No, no, no: adrenaline pumping, palms sweaty.  I should turn around.  Even though it meant hiking more miles, I KNEW the path I came from.  More strain on my body, more risk for dehydration, more exposure to the hot sun, but KNOWN.  How many times do I do this in life?  Depart from where God is leading because it’s unknown. Let the fear of the unknown hold me back.  I believe the lie that the unknown is more painful than backsliding and going back.  Am I sure I hear Him? Do I not trust the Lord?  Even still?  Even with all the ways He’s wooed me.  Never failed me.  Poured out His extravagant love.  But doubt (or panic) sets in.  My flesh still lashes out and says, “NO!  I will protect me.  I will provide for me.  I know best.”

All of my lovey-feelings of how good God was to take me on such an incredible hike with so many waterfalls were long gone.  Now I was in full lock down mode, intent on survival.  My primal instincts had kicked in and my only fuel was adrenaline.

But.

For me, God always inserts himself with “but.”  “But,” in a still small voice, I heard, “follow the path. Keep going.”  “BUT LORD!!”  I yelled out loud.  Birds scattered at the sudden sound of my humanity.  My buts are so different from the Lord’s.  Mine are always whiney and always accusatory.  I went on to argue with him that I really needed to turn around.  Clearly, I had taken the wrong path.

“Follow the path.”

Ok Lord, I feel like we are in a circular argument here.  Much like how I feel when I am in a power struggle with my four-year-old son, trying to convince him that I want what’s best for him.  “Doesn’t Mama love you?  Don’t you trust me?”  Begrudgingly, it dawns on me that in this scenario, I am the four-year-old. Well, crap.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my amygdala down.  If you are unfamiliar with your amygdala, just think of it as an over caffeinated, sugar-saturated, sleep deprived toddler that just stubbed his/her toe.  The Lord flooded my body with the sensation of peace.  “Ok, I’ll keep going.  I’ll follow the path.”  As I hiked, I listened to the natural world.  I heard the trickle of a brook.  I heard the hawks up above.  I heard the skitter of the ground animals.  It was a balm for my anxiety.  A half mile or so later, after a steep decline, I came to a meadow.  My breath caught in my throat.  It was a breathtaking meadow.  Full of the most gorgeous wildflowers.  The sun was streaming in as sunbeams through the trees.  It looked magical and majestic.  Untouched.  Invitational.  I walked into the meadow and laid down.  It matched every vision I’ve ever had of meeting Jesus.  A dear friend of mine, Sarah Lee, has led me in a series of Immanuel  moments.  Quiet moments in prayer where I go to a safe place and meet Jesus.  In my mind’s eye, Jesus and I have walked in that meadow 100 times.  He has held me against His chest and let me sleep.  He has laughed with me and cried with me.  He has held my hurts and healed my wounds in that meadow.  And on this unplanned hike, totally off my intended path, He poured out His extravagant love and said, “Janelle, my love, THIS is what I had for you today.”

When I let the fear of the unknown and the doubt of how the Lord ALWAYS provides for me overtake the narrative, I turn around.  And it is always depressing.  Because deep in my gut, I know I missed what He had for me.  The next amazing waterfall, the next breathtaking meadow full of wildflowers.  My challenge is: follow the path.  Have faith in my connection with the Father.  Have faith I am in Him and He is in me.  Have faith I know His voice.  Trust in His love for me.  Trust in His provision and timing.  Trust that I matter to Him.  I am not forgotten; not overlooked.  I am His beloved.  None of this comes naturally to me.  Every part of me wants to take over.  Provide for myself.  Make my own way.  That comes from a place of wanting to protect myself – everyone else in life has let me down.  I can mitigate my pain and suffering if I lock myself down and don’t let anyone – including God – have enough access to me to hurt me.  Then, I am safe.  But that is a lie.  And is just what the enemy wants.  Because it isolates me.  It robs me of joy.  It robs me of extravagant love.  It robs me of living.

The end of this story is that I did keep going.  I got up from the meadow and kept walking into the unknown.  Every 30 minutes or so, my fear would flare up.  I would hear the Lord’s voice softly encouraging me.  “Keep going.  I love you.”  At one point, I asked the Lord for a sign.  And sure enough, the most beautiful butterfly flew onto the path, which was very narrow at that point.  The butterfly glided down the path for several minutes.  I don’t know if you’ve watched habit patterns of butterflies much, but let me tell you, they flit around like crazy: here, there, everywhere.  It makes me dizzy trying to follow them with my eye.  Not this butterfly.  

Eight hours later, I finally returned to the original waterfall that was at the beginning of the trailhead.  Surrounded by noisy people who had no idea that I had been fearing for my life left me feeling disoriented.  I stumbled over to the posted map, enclosed in plexiglass on a wooden post.  I traced my finger where I had been, recalling from memory the terrain.  From what I could estimate, I ended up hiking 13 miles, nearly double what I intended.

I am a walking testimony to how the Lord redeems us and rescues us.  Over the years He has pursued my heart so gently (so I trust him) and so relentlessly (so I “get it”) – isn’t it incredible how he meets us just where and how we need?  He has taught me His voice.  He has allowed circumstances that have s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d my faith to what seemed like the breaking point.  He has been so faithful.  So unwavering.  So patient.  He has taught me to rest in him.  No more striving. No more securing my own security.  Slowly, as I have trusted in Him, I have pried my fingers off the iron-clad grip on my heart and experienced a freedom I have never known before.  He never forced that.  Never got impatient with me.  Never gave me an ultimatum.  He simply offered constant, unwavering invitation.

I’ll keep going, Lord
I won’t take my eyes off of you

What circumstances in your life have challenged your faith to walk into the unknown?  What has your path looked like?  Are you crying out for a butterfly?  Are you interested in learning what an Immanuel moment can do? Please, reach out.  I’d love to pray with you.  I’m with you!