It’s Time to Face the Truth

The headlines are terrifying.

The war on terror has been going on for over 20 years now, but the true terrorizing of America has just begun.

And yet…

What is terror?

Webster’s 1828 dictionary says terror is “extreme fear, violent dread, fear that agitates the body and mind.”

So terror is fear. Big fear.

And we have been having a war on terror for 20 years. Seems like we should feel less fearful, not more, after all this time, don’t you think?

In my girlhood, I hiked with my family. A favorite hike was one called Table Rock in Wyoming. My father had hiked it often as a boy, and my first time up I was 8 years old. The trail was lovely, the flowers were perfect, and every color. It was a bit cold when we started, but it warmed up, the sun came up, we crossed the river many times, we saw wildlife, we felt the goodness of God in our hearts as we moved our bodies up, up, up, that gentle climb through Huckleberry Canyon. 

 

 

Then the switchbacks. These were a challenge, for sure, and I watched my brothers pull ahead while I plodded along behind. Over the many trips up this mountain, I learned to stop, take in the scenery, and not sit down, but to keep going. I relished seeing the trail behind us, how far we had come! Then turning my face forward again and seeing how little trail was left in front of us. I learned to take tiny steps when needed, to make tiny progress rather than none at all. Many years of hiking this trail many times taught me many lessons. Once the switchbacks were conquered, there was a bit of a respite. A long walk along the ridge until you reach-

The Boulder Field.

The boulder field is not scary, or even terribly treacherous when you are young and have good balance. Except for snakes. Which may or may not be ready to bite you at any moment. I don’t recall ever seeing a snake in the boulder field, but I do recall being very afraid of seeing one.

Isn’t it interesting? No problems ever occurred there for me there, yet I was uncomfortable, even frightened simply because a problem might occur.

Who then was terrorizing me?

Beyond the boulder field is the shale climb. This is very challenging, but it is the last bit before you reach the rock shaped like a table, and the summit of this hike, and it is like walking through sand. But worse. Your legs and lungs burn, you can’t go too slowly because you slide back down, but you can’t go more quickly than your burning legs and lungs can tolerate. So you have to find a balance, keep moving, and be sure you are making progress.

I distinctly remember one year, one of the early years when I was still quite young, it was raining at the top. We were almost there, and my dad was looking for some shelter for us from the pelting rain. We were past the boulder field, and most of the way up the shale- above the timberline, there was little that could protect us. But there was a small cave that we could huddle in if it wasn’t occupied. 

It was. 

I don’t remember the details, but when I finally caught up, I remember hearing my brothers talking in admiration about how Dad had fought the wolverine and opened a place for us to shelter in the cave. The storm was breaking, and we could come out before I spent much time there, and it was time to make the final ascent.

Two slabs formed rock walls to guide you to the ascent, but it wasn’t a close fit- in other words, there was plenty of room for a child to lose her footing and tumble off the side of the mountain. I turned my head back toward that fall. I was such a long way up. It was such a long way down. There would be nothing to grab, nothing to stop my fall for hundreds of feet. 

I was going to die.

My dad was at the top of the “hall.”

“Brenda,” he calmly called to me. I couldn’t reach him and was frozen in the fear of what I could see. 

“Brenda, look at me, Sweetie.” 

I turned my teary face toward him, knowing I would fall and he couldn’t catch me.

“Just look at me. Look into my eyes. You can do this.”

I trusted him. I hoped he could save me. I could see his blurry form through my tears. I looked at him while he guided me to safety. I no longer looked back at what might happen, I looked forward to what all of us wanted to happen.

I have thought of this lesson many times in my life. All the lessons I have learned from the mountains.

This memory holds me fast.

Let me break it down. 

1-My father was not afraid of me falling. He knew I could get to him. He believed in me.

2-My father was calm and constant, coaxing me to trust him. 

3-Any fear I would experience would simply be because I chose fear. Fear was not a necessary part of my journey, and truthfully, my journey would be simpler without it. 

4-Even if I chose fear to begin with, I could at any time decide to look at my father and choose to trust him.

5-Remembering my father and that experience could be just as powerful in other situations as it was when it happened in real life.

I think you can see the Spiritual Parallels, but I will list them again here for clarity.

1-My Father is not afraid of me falling.

He knows I can get to Him. If there is any terror about this for me, it is only because I am afraid of me falling, or that I will not be able to get back to Him after I fall. It is simply not true. Anytime I have fallen, when I turn to look at Him, I am right back on the path. It takes no time to return to the path. It only takes a decision. He knows this, and He believes in me.

 

2-My Father is calm and constant. Unchanging.

He shows me every day all the reasons I can trust Him. He is ever feeling after me, inviting me to see the beauty of the world, the truth of His Spirit, the goodness of His creations, the love of His children. I see evidence every day of why God is trustworthy. I choose to believe it. I choose to look at it.

3-Any fear I experience is simply because I choose to be afraid.

Are there snakes in the boulder field? Could I slip down the shale and fall off the mountain? Of course. But I don’t have to be afraid of those things. I can choose to believe, as He does, that I will come through. Have I been bitten? Have I fallen? Yes. Of course. Life is like that. But I return to what I learned in number one. He believes in me. All of this is just practice for me to continually hold fast to my decision to trust Him.

4-Where I look is always my choice.

When I choose fear, when I get caught in the loop of looking at the long drop or at snakes (or where I think snakes might be) I can at any time, re-choose to look at my Father and be right back on the path. It takes no time to return to the path. It only takes a decision. He knows this, and He believes in me.

5- Even the memory of my Father is Powerful

Powerful enough to bring me through multiple situations- a medical procedure gone wrong, worries about my children, loss of animals, friends, loved ones, business reversals- none of these things have more power in my life than the memory of my Father calling me to look at Him. And looking at Him resolves all of it. 

Did my dogs still die? Did I cry on the medical table? Did I lose my first marriage? Did I fail in business? Do my feet hurt? Do I ache for my aching children? Do I see the problems in our society? Do I see the breakdown of friendships and relationships? Do I know about the coming calamities and food shortages?  Of course.

Yet still, I look to my Father, who will guide me through it all.

I remember His words because I read from them each day. Or even frequently.

Love your neighbors. Love one Another. Love your enemies. Be not afraid. Pray for them which do despitefully use you and persecute you. Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and lean not to thine own understanding. Fear not. Only Believe. All things are possible to them that believe.

Just like the Israelites could see the wall of water that could at any time engulf them, we now see the truth of all that is coming to light.  And just like they walked through unharmed, without the loss of a single soul, on dry ground, so shall God save us if we are not of little faith.

I always have a choice.

I choose Christ. I choose to join hands with others who choose Love, who believe that what we are experiencing is like a woman in labor. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it is uncomfortable, even painful, agonizing, or perhaps even terrifying. But the end is worth this powerful change we are experiencing together at this time. 

It’s time to face the truth.

We can do it. 

Let’s do it together.