He Walks With Us

Lately, rather than being jealous of the highlight reels others share on social media, I’ve been jealous of my own. Memories of the adventures I shared with my husband in the pre-COVID-19 world brought me to tears. I had a dream, set a goal, and knocked it out of the park. Will I ever be able to reach that level of joy again?

I first learned about the West Highland Way in a book about the majesty of God. The 96-mile trek in Scotland can be hiked over the course of a week, with overnight stops in quaint villages along the way. I love connecting with God in nature and combined with the manner in which the author described her hiking experience, I longed to experience the trail for myself.

My husband and I are hikers, blessed to live near the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in East Tennessee. We’ve logged countless miles on the trails in these mountains, even committing our lives to one another in an old church in the park. The West Highland Way promised similar terrain to what we have hiked on this side of the pond, with a beauty only the Scottish highlands could provide.

Only a few years after describing the trail to my husband and saying enthusiastically “we should do this,” we started our journey of almost 100 miles. Spread over seven days, we hiked between nine and nineteen miles daily. Each evening found us in a different village, with accommodations at a bed and breakfast or small inn. Beautiful countryside, a hot shower, and a real bed? Yes, please!

The start of the trail was picture-perfect. After a few miles, a small gate led us into a field with mountains in the background. Perched on a mound just ahead, a bagpiper greeted us. Tears filled my eyes. This was the moment I had spent countless hours researching, and for which we had saved money and trained.

“I lift my eyes toward the mountains.

Where will my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

the Maker of heaven and earth.” (Ps. 121:1-2 HCSB)

The beauty of God’s creation surrounded us. I’ve had a few moments in my life wherein I’ve thought, “This. This is what heaven will be like.” That moment ranks at the top of my list. We’ve all lived enough to know that moments like that don’t last, though. The hardship comes because this isn’t heaven. We’re not there yet.

The miles grow long, and the body grows weary. We hiked in paradise that week, but it wasn’t without struggles. Trying to read a map on my phone while I walked resulted in my toe hitting a root. My body pitched forward, and I absorbed the impact with my hands and knees. The fall shook me up, but both my phone and my body survived with just a few scratches and bruises. Still a couple of miles from our destination for the evening, I had no choice but to keep walking through the pain.

At a different point in the trail, I misread the map, causing us to take the more difficult route beside a loch, rather than the easier upper loop we had intended. Right away, my husband told me we had gone off course, but I insisted he was wrong. Finally, we passed a landmark that left no doubt in my mind. My legs grew heavier with each step. Finally, I reached my breaking point and sat down on a rock in the middle of the trail. Sobs overtook.

“This is hard. I’m a failure. My mistakes are too much for me to overcome.”

In that moment, I wanted to quit, but quitting wasn’t an option. We had miles left to go. There was no nearby road or cell service to call a car. I couldn’t press a button to have a helicopter extraction team pick me up like they do in survival television shows.

You’ve been there, I’m sure. When everything within you says, “It’s too much, I can’t do it,” collapsing in a heap of tears seems to be the only option. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that others have been there. Their highlight reel shows all the incredible moments in their lives. However, if this pandemic has taught me anything, it’s shown me how everyone has their own burdens they are carrying. At the end of the day, they may have a beautiful photo of what they have accomplished. They may tell a joke, making fun of their own clumsiness.

But make no mistake: the hurt exists. In fact, Jesus promises us suffering will happen. “I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace. You will have suffering in this world. Be courageous! I have conquered the world” (John 16:33 HCSB).

Fear not. Because when you are broken, when you have nothing left to give, he will be there. When the time is right, he’ll give you the strength to stand. Then, he’ll give you the wisdom to take the right path next time. And when you come out on the other side, I pray that he gives you the eyes to look back and see how he walked with you every step of the way.

Brooke Justus Fradd celebrates the small wins in life while always being on the lookout for the next great adventure she can share with her husband, Jay. On her blog, Awkwardly Graceful, she shares the moments in life she hopes will become treasured memories.

Photograph © Murilo Gomes, used with permission