Gray clouds dripped and windshield wipers squeaked while we peered at the sky. Would it clear? It didn’t look promising. Neither did the red and green radar splotches on the phone weather ap.
Sure, we’ve hiked in rain, but only because we were caught. We’ve had several day-long hikes which ended in downpours, and we covered up with raincoats stashed in backpacks and trekked down shivery-sloppy mountain trails.
But start out in the rain?
Dave wanted me to decide because he would never force misery on his wife. We waited. It rained, not hard-whipping sheets of water, but steady drops that can’t be dodged. I didn’t want to get out, but I didn’t want to go home.
“We can always turn back if it gets miserable.” I mumbled the words because I wondered how far I’d last.
Next to our car, a soaked-to-the-bone man approached. The hiker unlocked his pickup and sank inside the dry refuge.
We set out in the rain, and I left my phone in the glove box, so it wouldn’t get wet. As we walked in silence, the path squished under our boots and loud raindrops bounced off the hood of my coat. Rivulets of water trickled down sharp granite rock and onto our trail. We skirted puddles and brushed against branches whose leaves showered droplets. Pine needles glistened sliver. Wet sagebrush sweetened the air. Sunlight skipped across the rippled surface of a beaver pond, and beauty exploded.
Here’s a confession: Fear often stops me. I was afraid it would be cold. How wet we would get. How slippery. How miserable. I nearly chose to go home.
While hiking, I prayed for a friend who is dying. He and his wife are walking through the raging storm of cancer. But instead of fear, he shares a contagious peace. Despite pain, he shows up at the farmer’s market, and he worships with hands held high on Sunday mornings. He has chosen to fully live his last days. Fear doesn’t keep him home.
When I try to muster up my own courage, it’s like mumbling, “We can always turn back.” I might step into the rain, but my heart stays in the car. So, what’s the formula that slaps down fear?
Advice swirls everywhere: 1. Visualize a happy place… 2. Imagine the worst… 4. Find a support group…
But these and other remedies are based on self effort. When my fears run deep and my insecurities whisper loud, I need more than more own weak knees. I think about my friend’s source of courage. It isn’t anything he has drummed up. It isn’t a formula. It is a person—Jesus.
When the disciples cried out in the middle of a stormy sea, Jesus offered himself. “Take courage. It is I. Don’t be afraid.” (Matthew 14:27)
The rain ended midway through our hike, and I carried my raincoat back to the car, now reluctant to return home. Even though our hike began in the rain, it had been a beauty-filled afternoon and I felt refreshed. I chided myself to think I almost stayed in the car, letting fear rule and clinging to my comfort zone.
Lord, help me to continue to grow in my faith and daily trust in you, even embracing the rain.
“I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.” Psalm 34:
I’d love to hear from you: