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Sometimes the trail we venture on

Is the wilderness of our own heart

At times we see our path clearly before us

Other times may require some bush whacking through the untouched growth that hinders our way

The effort can be immense

Yet crucial

The discoveries priceless

On my journey

I have listened to the melody of my own song and

Struggled at times to stay in tune

I have climbed the mountains of fear and failure and

Beheld the summits of my own freedom

I have gazed with wide wonder at the valleys below me

Knowing that without them the view would be barren

I have rejoiced as the sun arose to shine hope on my desolation

I have trembled as he left me alone in the company of my own darkness

I have cried a little

Prayed much

Laughed often

I have been enlightened

And disheartened

I have embraced wholeheartedly

I have let go gracefully

My destination is authenticity

To be true to myself and to others

To live fully alive with zeal and passion

To love with abandon

To accept others for who they are and

For where they are along their own journey

To be a light in someone else’s darkness

Even when it hurts

To cherish the ones that come my way

Whether for a moment, a season or a lifetime

To accept my own humanness

Strengths, weaknesses and even the frightening places

To unearth the good buried in the depths of all human hearts

To sow with them and watch them blossom

To venture on regardless of the terrain

With faith

Tenacity

Courage, boldness

Compassion

To venture on and discover

All the hidden treasures that dwell within

I venture on.

(picture taken somewhere along the way on the Grandfather Mountain Profile Trail, May 2015)

Show me your true colors…

The ones that bleed through your veins

Chasing away the solidity that has sustained you

While the summer breeze blew gently against your skin

And the sun shone upon you

Show me your true colors

The ones that seep through when the warmth is fading

While winds of change blow against you

And you brace yourself from the chill

Show me your true colors

The ones that trickle through each cell

When you feel life slowly draining from the inside

You know that no matter how tight you hold on

Letting go is inevitable

Show me your true colors

The ones that permeate your being

When you tremble inside as the threat of winter knocks at your door

And you know dying is a part of living

Show me your true colors

The vibrant reds, the yellows, the oranges

That emanate from the depths of your soul

And shout boldly of courage, and passion and strength

And of hope that spring will come and breathe new life.

Show me your true colors…

I had the privilege on Labor Day weekend to visit a most lovely place called Devil’s Creek in Erwin, Tennessee. From the onset of the trail the creek is abundant in stunning cascades that are painted with various shades of the greenest moss. The multi-colored rocks and boulders along the way accents the clearness of the water that eloquently rushes over them. Each new step politely demands moments to pause and behold the beauty of the scenery before you. Although you have to take caution to not slip while rock-hopping, the trail is not difficult and it isn’t far until you reach the lower and upper falls that are both breathtaking in their own right. On our visit, we took the time to snap pictures, climb around on some incredible boulders, trek up to the proverbial ‘puckering perch,” smell some rock tripe (well I did at least 😉 ) and explore the natural playground. It’s always hard to leave a place like this, I always feel as if I’m overlooking something spectacular but our daylight would soon be gone and it was time to venture back to the real world.

As we came to the end of the trail, I stepped down into the creek one last time to take a shot of an old rail road bridge. I was enamored by its rustic character, its weathered railing and the way its demeanor stood out against the massive mountain in the distance. I wondered for a moment how many trains had found their way across this bridge over the years. Where had they came from and where were they going? What cargo had they transported along the way? I felt an intense drawing to walk over the bridge and for me, well, let me tell you that’s a strange inclination. As a child I had developed some weird anxiety about bridges and tunnels. I faintly remember being very young and traveling with my family on a bridge that turned into a tunnel and went underwater. I’m sure it wasn’t a very long distance, but in my mind it was cross-continental! I can still feel the burning in my lungs I experienced as I held my breath while scanning the concrete walls of the inside of the tunnel looking for small trickles of water that were waiting to burst into a flood and consume us! I can also remember well into my adult years of feeling that fluttering anxiety each time I would have to cross a bridge in my everyday travels, knowing that the moment I was in the middle it would collapse and send me spiraling to a premature death! (yeah I know, my imagination is quite insane at times but rest assured, I am never bored!) Foot bridges downright terrified me, even the small ones, and to think of the chances of getting me out on some rickety old swinging bridge over water…oh H-E-double hockey sticks-NO!

However I have found that in my adventures in nature, crossing bridges has slowly become a much easier task for me. Several of our hikes have consisted of bridges going over waterways, some of them sturdy, some rickety and downright scary. At first, anytime we came to a bridge of sorts I would cringe a little. I may have appeared calm as a cucumber on the outside, but inside I was screaming desperate prayers to God to not let the bridge collapse under my feet! A few months ago we visited Grandfather Mountain and walked across the mile high swinging bridge. Once I had successfully crossed over and back again I wanted to jump up and down with joy and shout like Dora the Explorer, “I did it, hey, hey I did it!” It’s amazing to me the transformations God has wrought in my soul through being out in His creation. As the months have passed, it has become almost second nature to me and most of the time I don’t even think about the apprehensions that used to bind me. As I stood and looked at this old railroad bridge, though, I felt a familiar anxious fluttering deep down inside my soul and I knew I had to venture up and see what was in store for me.

I walked up to the bridge, standing before it I scanned its distance, eyeballing every railroad tie to the other side. I began to walk out onto it, bouncing a little with each step checking the stability (yeah I know, like my weight was going to break something a train travels across! ). I tried to place my boot in between the spaces of the ties, just to see if there was any danger of slipping and falling through – negative ghost rider. So I ventured on out across, assessing my every step. I leaned over the side, checking out the distance to the creek below which wasn’t very lengthy. I looked up and around at the mountains surrounding me. I walked to the other side and I pondered the meaning of the anxious gnawing in my gut. I thought about bridges. There are all kinds. Some are longer than others, some higher, some wider and more secure. Some you may not even notice that you are crossing over and some may scare the whiz out of you with each step. In all of their differences, they are the same in one sense – they are all necessary. They are a through way from one place to the next and without them sometimes you wouldn’t be able to reach your destination. I lingered for a moment, searching for some insight but the voice inside was quiet so thus I began the trek back to the car.

I don’t know if you have ever walked a train track, this was my first time and the steps were awkward for me. The ties were close enough together I couldn’t comfortably step them one by one and far enough apart I looked like I was doing the chicken walk if I tried to take in two at a time. I was constantly having to adjust my stride to not stumble. The longer I walked the more I pondered. I thought of my life’s journey, where I had come from. I took a deep breath as I remembered the sting felt in a little girls’ heart from a father who constantly rejected me. I remembered the physical abuse that hurt like the devil but was nothing in comparison to the ugly words that left me feeling worthless and unloved. I remembered the shame that poured through me when my innocence was so carelessly taken from me as a young teenager. I remembered the loneliness that enveloped me even when in the midst of a crowd. I remembered the emptiness, the fear, the pain that had tainted my soul and followed me well into my adult life and ruled my days. I remembered the failures, the mistakes, the lost hope and lost dreams. I remembered the brokenness that stabbed my heart like a knife and the desperate cries to be healed and made whole. I remembered the moments that my steps had been awkward and it was all I could do to not stumble and fall. In that moment I felt it all again like a mighty rushing wind running through every cell I possessed. I felt my composure pouring out of me like I was a shattered cistern and I stopped. I turned around one last time to look at that old rustic little bridge and as soon as my eyes were fixed upon it…..and I remembered.

I remembered the moment I surrendered a shattered heart to a God who had pursued me in my brokenness. I remember kneeling before Him and asking Him, if He could, to take me and make me whole. I remembered the years of shaping and molding, the kneading and sometimes necessary chiseling through my resistance. I remembered the moments my awkward stride hurled me tumbling to my face, yet He was always there to pick me back up again. I remembered the loneliness that He permeated with His presence. I remembered as the darkness fled when His light rushed in. I remembered the moments of joy as His truths became realities in my life. I remembered the moment He unlocked the chains and set me free! And Oh! How I remembered a bridge of grace and unfailing love that has led me from a valley of brokenness to a massive mountain of freedom, healing and wholeness.

I silently bid farewell to that old bridge and the anxiousness that had gnawed at me departed. My focus was no longer where I had come from so I turned back around and began again on my journey to where I was going. Indeed it was another fine day on the trail and I knew that of all the incredible sights I had beheld that day, I had not missed the most spectacular one of all, an old rustic bridge.

It was a sunny day

When I met a man along my way.

I didn’t catch his name but it was all the same,

I knew his worth

90 years since his birth.

He laughed as he told a joke or two

I listened and I laughed too.

I bid him farewell

Yet he followed me out and I could tell,

He had a story to share

So l lent him my ear.

He smiled as he talked of his children

5, all grown

Not far from home

He also had grandchildren of his own.

I didn’t catch their names but it was all the same

I knew their worth,

By the sparkle in his eyes

These treasures that money can’t buy.

I listened and I smiled too.

He paused and looked me deep in the eyes,

He almost began to cry.

He asked me if I knew of pain

That cuts deep like a knife

He talked of his wife,

68 years sharing life.

I didn’t catch her name but it was all the same.

I knew her worth

The loveliest woman ever put on planet earth!

His countenance aglow

As his mind wandered through time and space,

I did not catch the place

Where his thoughts remained,

But it’s all the same.

In his silence I knew of its worth

This place that needed no words

I listened to the quietness

And I cried a little too.

It was time to go and we said our goodbyes,

He shook my hand gently and let out a sigh,

I’m not sure why

But he said it looked like rain

Although it was a sunny day.

I didn’t catch his name but it’s all the same.

I knew the worth

Of this moment in time,

I saw a stranger’s heart

And it touched mine

For a moment our lives intertwined

I too sighed as I walked away

And I thought of rain on this sunny day

And this man I met along my way.

My love for you is like the ocean

Vast, wide, deep and immeasurable.

Sometimes the skies will be calm

I will be the waves that hold you

As you rest and play

I will smile and my heart will overflow with joy

Because you are happy.

Sometimes the skies will be cloudy

And the storms will rage around you

I will be the waves that lift you up

And carries you to a safe place

I will smile and my heart will be satisfied

Because you are safe.

Sometimes the skies will be dark

And the storms will rage inside of you

I will be the waves that rise up around you

As a shelter to protect you

Until your sun shines again

I will sigh and my heart will be courageous

Because you are fearful.

Sometimes the skies will be bleak

And the storms will be raging inside of me

I will be the waves that come crashing down around you

I will weep and my heart will be sorrowful

Because I hurt you.

But all the times, regardless of the skies and the storms

I will hold you

I will support you

I will be with you

And I will be proud that you are mine.

Because my love for you is like the ocean

Vast, wide, deep and immeasurable.

I have been hiking now for almost two years and, although I am a complete rookie at anything that has to do with the outdoors, the love and passion that was deposited in my soul from the first moment my foot hit the trail is unquenchable. The beauty of creation –  the smell of moss and dirt, the colors of the seasons, the melody of the trickling water, the wonder of a waterfall, the challenge of a rock wall that is screaming to be climbed – geez I get excited just thinking about it all! Oh and the peace that is imbedded in my deepest being with each step – it would be safe to just say that I absolutely love everything about it! A month or so ago I had the opportunity to go on my first ‘group’ hike. Up until this point my time on the trail had consisted of either going with a friend who had introduced me to the outdoors, venturing on some solo hikes to places I was 99% confident that I wouldn’t get lost (my directional skills suck raw eggs!) and a few adventures with my oldest son who caters to my passion for one on one time with him.  On this day however, I was privileged to join a group of hikers who were loaded with trail knowledge, incredibly skilled with the camera, packed with personality, fully equipped with trail savvy and all possessed what I call a ‘hiker’s heart.” From the moment we all stepped out of the car I knew that I was among kindred souls and that the day would nothing short of incredible.

Our destination for the day would be Gentry’s Creek Falls in Laurel Bloomery Tennessee. I had visited this set of falls once in the winter months when the trail was dusted with snow and ice bats were everywhere to be found along the way. Today, it didn’t take too many steps to see that Spring had sprung! The landscape was painted with color from various sorts of wildflowers that only their Creator could dress so superbly! Trilliums donned in the deep shades of scarlet, Dutchman’s Breeches dangling in the gentle breeze, Trout lilies and Bellworts bursting up like little rays of sunshine, Chick weed painted in the purest shades of white, Bluettes and violets coloring the path. One couldn’t help but stop and admire the exquisite scenery and that’s exactly what we did. What normally, at a steady pace, would take a little over an hour to hike to the waterfalls (2.5 miles) became a journey of taking the time to capture as much of the treasures of the trail that we possibly could. Moments of laying before a flower, admiring her in all her grandeur, snapping shot after shot to ensure the finest outcome. Kneeling before mounds of moss observing its 50 shades of green, smelling the earthy aroma (yes, I admit it! I like to smell moss!) running my fingers over the different textures. Standing beside the creeks edge, watching the cascades roll over the rocks, breathing in the melody while it penetrates the soul, sighing as the breeze dances softly across my skin. Oh if only time could have halted and allowed an eternity to savor every inch of this magical place! I took as much or more pleasure in watching my trail mates as they indulged themselves in every detail possible as I did in my own personal observations. I had to chuckle several times when I would look back and see them laying spread out on the ground, meticulously examining the specimen before them.

Eventually, after a few hours, we arrived at the destination. Lay aside the beauty along the trail to the fall, the challenge of the 14 stream crossings – which by the way I love even when the water level is high and I get my feet soaked! – the awesome rocks and boulders you can climb all over – and the falls alone are a magnificent sight to behold. On this particular day the water level was abundant enough that there were two cascades flowing on the lower portion of the falls (the winter hike was a low level day with only the main cascade flowing so this was a treat to have two!). With a little effort, on the left side of the fall you can climb a steep goat trail up to access the upper portion of the falls. With careful footing you can cross the creek a final time to the right side and access one of my favorite rock walls to climb to the top of the upper fall. (The persistent ones will go on out to the edge of the upper fall and take the famous ‘boot shots’ while peering down over the fall). The entire scenery offers hours of exploring, photo opportunities, numerous spots to sit back and refresh a weary soul and even a perfect spot for a hillbilly baptism (another blog will suffice explaining this one!).

The hike out went a little quicker than the hike in seeing that some of us had other appointments to attend to for the evening. The carpool back to our homes and vehicles consisted of conversations of the wonders of the day (and a little catnap in the backseat knowing I was babysitting a 20 month old later that evening and I better rest while I could!) and it wasn’t long until we were all on our separate ways back to our individual lives and agendas. A couple of days passed and while I was drinking my morning coffee and playing over everything I needed to get done for the day, I sighed at how busy life gets sometimes and the hurry we are always in – rush here, rush there, scurrying through our day to get everything done. Most of the time just barely surviving and waiting on that grand moment when we will be swept away to another time and a heavenly place.  My mind went back to the trail day and the way we lingered along the way. How no one was in a hurry to get somewhere although we knew a grand place awaited our arrival. The way careful observation was taken as to try not miss one good thing.

On this particular day it was all about the journey. Taking the time to digest each step, admiring every possible piece of beauty our eyes could behold. The appreciation of a creation made just for us. The conversations shared with old friends and new friends. The discovery of things not known before (well mostly by me because these guys know their flowers!). The fellowship of like-minded individuals and companionship of kindred souls. The treasure of connecting with people who have their own separate journeys yet sharing a few priceless moments together along the way. Oh that we would live our everyday life this way! Yes we have a grand destination awaiting on us someday but if that is our only focus, my oh my, what we miss out on along the way! It’s the journey that teaches us, grows us, shapes us and makes us. It’s the journey that possesses the life lessons, the moments, the treasures that money can’t buy. It’s the journey that allow us to meet others – some are kindred souls on the same path and some who are headed in a totally different direction – and glean from them tidbits for our own soul. It’s the journey where moments are appreciated and memories are made. The journey may not always go as planned, there may be a few slip-ups along the way , but taking the time to delight in it is where the true joy is discovered, joy that produces strength to carry us along our way until we reach our destination.

Hiked on Friday April 17, 2015.

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”  Anais Nin