The Lesson of Regrets

The Final Lesson from the Trail

There is one last lesson that I have learned from the trail. Perhaps the ultimate lesson, only recently fully grasped by the death of my mother. That is the lesson of regrets. You see, every trail demands decisions and choices. Each decision we make leads to the next choice we will encounter. To cheat the trail and take a shortcut; to take unfair advantage of a weaker participant; to stop and forfeit the prize in order to aid another runner or hiker; to follow the pack or blaze our own trail. Every decision leads to the ultimate outcome. I have learned that the prize handed out in front of the crowd is pale pleasure compared to the joy of coming in last because you’ve quietly made a better choice – a choice to offer kindness and comfort, or because you took a moment to stop and smell the aroma of wet pine or gape at the amazing grandeur of a valley laid out below you; to stoop and watch a ground squirrel, or decipher a bird call. Rewards that far out weigh the medal that will hang in some closet or lay in some forgotten drawer. In the New Testament, the Apostles talk of "running our race" in a way that will bring us eternal reward, that will not fade away nor become lost (See 1 Corinthians 9:25 and 1 Peter 5:4); and Jesus instructs us to “...not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal." Matthew 6:19-20

Several years ago I was running a trail race in Bonelli Park. The course started with a sharp incline that proceeded to rise up, and then up some more, and then up yet again. By the third incline I was done. My legs and lungs were not in shape for this run and I simply could not continue. Coming from behind me was a woman about my age who had definitely found her stride. As she approached me she could tell that I was spent, so she simply held out her hand, grabbed me by the arm and said, “we’ll do this together.” Because of her I made it to the final peak where the trail blessedly began to descend. Her act of kindness probably cost her a medal – and yes, I still came in dead last, but I finished my race due to her kindness. 

Sitting with my mother in her final minutes last week I came to two conclusions about life on the trail. First: in the end, it is the acts of kindness that matter. They alone are what we remember, what stays with us. Colossians 3:12 says,

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. 

Secondly, doing the right thing, no matter how hard it may be, will never, never be as hard as living with the regret of not doing it. 

May you travel well your pathways fellow trail runners and hikers.

Lions and Tigers and Bears – Oh MY!

Now I haven't often encountered beasts along the trail, but I know they are out there. My husband has hiked a bit in Alaska and has learned the importance of noticing the signs of bear along the trail. He hiked in the Everglades in Florida and knew the necessity of watching for alligators. He has hiked the high plains and knows to be on guard for snakes.

Sometimes we go places where the dangers are clearly noted – “Beware of snakes on the trail” or other hikers will tell each other of bear or mountain lion sightings. We learn to walk cautiously, look for evidence, and care about and for others along the trail. But the best defense against a beast is to avoid him all together. Stay away from the lairs and pits they dwell in, where they lurk, waiting for their prey; and stay alert for the signs of their prowling about. There are beasts along our life-trails as well. 1 Peter 5:8 tells us to , "Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour."

But despite all our measures, sometime we may find ourselves confronted on the trail. Rule number 1: there is no glory in being devoured. We don’t try to take on the beast alone. Call for help -- there is strength in numbers. Take defensive steps – put on protective gear:

Therefore, put on every piece of God’s armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil. Then after the battle you will still be standing firm. Stand your ground, putting on the belt of truth and the body armor of God’s righteousness. For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News so that you will be fully prepared. In addition to all of these, hold up the shield of faith to stop the fiery arrows of the devil. Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Ephesians 6:13-17

And when all else fails, flee for the stronghold:

[God] is my steadfast love and my fortress,

my stronghold and my deliverer,

my shield and he in whom I take refuge,  Psalm 144:2

In the end, our confidence on the trail does not come from weapons or guile, but the knowledge that no beast can stand against the One True Trail Guide!

…. what the ...?

There is of course another hazard along the trail – that is the inevitable dropping of… well… there is just no other way to say it… poop!

Horsey poop
Doggy poop
and even the occasional bear poop (one Yellowstone Park Ranger we knew liked to tell us that the way to distinguish black bear poop from grizzly bear poop – the grizzly had hiker whistles in it ☹.)

Along the trail there are just times when no matter how careful we may be, we just can’t avoid the poop. We suddenly become aware of that familiar odor and realize that we have indeed stepped in it. It doesn’t work to ignore it: we can smell it on ourselves. It doesn’t work to deny it: others can smell it on us. All we can do is admit it, clean up the mess, and get back on tract.

‘Nuff said!

Roots, Ruts, and Rocks

The recent passing of my mother has reminded me of yet another “lesson from the trail.” The lesson of roots, ruts, and rocks.

Someone once said that those of us who long for heaven run the risk of being so “heavenly minded that we are no earthly good.” My mother had the perfect balance of heaven mindedness and earthly focus; knowing that the finish line lay ahead, but if we don’t focus on the step in front of us, we are not likely to make it there in one piece.

Several years ago my husband Greg and I took a hiking trip through New England in the autumn. The route we took in New Hampshire was the aptly named, Frankenstein Cliffs. Now, I don’t remember why they were named that, or who they may have been named for, but it was certainly a MONSTER of a hike. The path ran out of “path-ness” (the quality of being “path-like”) about a mile into the hike, and turned in to literally nothing but miles and miles of roots, ruts, and rocks. Now, let me just state here, that we never finished the hike, and thus, never experienced the cliffs – my sense of humor, sense of adventure, and sense of niceness ran out quickly; but, I did learn some lessons along the way.

The trouble with roots, ruts, and rocks is that they conspire to trip, twist, and injure. Individually they are hazards; together they are trip enders. Like the daily worries and cares that distract us from the bigger plan of our lives, roots will grab your toes as you jaunt along, their twisted gnarls reaching out to trip your every step. Ruts are more insidious. As you hike along, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the world around you, oblivious to their threat, they are the unexpected pitfalls and difficulties that suddenly throw us off balance, twisting feet and ankles, buckling our legs and stride, thrashing us to the ground. Then, there are the rocks. Huge obstacles that must be climbed over, negotiated around, and if possible, avoided. They can block our way, or injure us – leaving us scraped, punctured, and bloodied. 

When we encounter a path fraught with roots, ruts, and rocks we may be tempted to give up; but then we will never reach the purpose for our journey.  Or, we keep our heads down, carefully avoiding each obstacle and hindrance; but then we miss the breathtaking views – which after all is the point of the trail. And if we focus only on the finish – our minds set only on the glorious end, our thoughts lost in the clouds, we will most likely find ourselves tripped up, twisted around, and unexpectedly facedown in the dirt. The key is perspective. Inspired by the destination, but focused on the step ahead, we will finish the path, cross the line, and view the breathtaking cliffs.

Along the Frankenstein trail, I learned the importance of depending on the solid walking stick I picked up along the way, (I called it “Ole’ Hickory” – no, it probably wasn’t really hickory, but the name seemed mildly amusing at the time) the guidance of a good map, and the encouragement of my hiking companion, my husband. In the midst of our life’s “Frankenstein trails” we will also need to reach out for the support that comes from relying on the solidity of our faith, the guidance of the Word of God, and the encouragement that comes from true Christ-focused fellowship. 

My mother exemplified, modeled, and lived well this balance. During her 92 years, she encountered the joys and pain of a life well lived. The hardship of poverty, as well as the complicated joy of raising 5 children, and influencing 20 grandchildren and 24 great-grandchildren. She suffered the pain of losing loved ones, including several babies, a grandchild, and my Dad after 50 years of marriage. She nursed children and friends through illness, loneliness, and hardships. She endured conflict, misunderstanding, and sometimes the cruelty that family and friends can inflict on each other. She negotiated the roots, ruts, and rocks – sometimes tripping, occasionally falling, and now and then enduring injury, but always rising again to fully experience the journey. And she embraced it all with faith, grace, and a healthy dose of humor. Always inspired by the prospect of heaven, she never failed to see the importance of the daily journey well travelled. 

Thanks mom!

"I Catched It"

One of my mother's favorite stories was about bubbles. One morning, my mother was blowing soap bubbles while my little girl danced around trying to catch them. As a big bubble settled gently on my daughter's fingertips, she exclaimed, "I catched it! I catched it!" My mother would always cry just a little, when she told the story -- the innocence and joy of the moment always filled her with nostalgic tenderness. So it only seemed appropriate that the day my mother went to heaven my granddaughter and grandson would celebrate her new life in heaven by blowing bubbles up to her.

The Hope of Heaven: a comfort and motivation to those of us who have lost loved ones. Not an empty hope, but a promise fulfilled through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. As we remained gathered around my mother's bedside my oldest sister reminded us that although we were still seeking for signs of our mother, she was no longer there, she had gone on to fullness of life -- out of the earthly restraint of her weak and worn out body. "Why do you seek the living among the dead"?

Scripture tells us that,

On the first day of the week, at early dawn, the women went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared.  And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb,  but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling apparel. And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?  He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise.” And they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb they told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest. Luke 24:1-9

Because Christ fulfilled the plan of redemption for all men, because He who was without sin, suffered the consequences of all man's sins, those of us who accept His gracious gift have more than hope, we have the assurance of heaven. Jesus said, 

...the Son of Man must be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him will have eternal life. For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through him. John 3:14-17

So today, on Easter, as we celebrate the fulfillment of God's great promise, somehow I am sure that my mom "catched" those soapy bubbles.

To those who have lost loved ones, I wish you a Blessed Easter.

Saying Goodbye

Smiles Breaking Through Tears: 

Dying is a gradual diminishing and final vanishing over the horizon of life. When we watch a sailboat leaving port and moving toward the horizon, it becomes smaller and smaller until we can no longer see it. But we must trust that someone is standing on a faraway shore seeing that same sailboat become larger and larger until it reaches its new harbor. Death is a painful loss. When we return to our homes after a burial, our hearts are in grief. But when we think about the One standing at the other shore eagerly waiting to welcome our beloved friend into a new home, a smile can break through our tears.  Henri Nouwen; Bread for the Journey

I have come to realize that saying goodbye isn't a one time statement; it is a process. Letting go of someone who has impacted or influenced our lives in significant ways is a slow and gradual adieu -- like watching a boat leave the harbor. We linger on the shore until we only think we can still see the sails, hoping for just one more look, one more chance to wave farewell. But in the end, we must turn, and let the boat sail on to its destination, faithful that it is a beautiful view from both shores. 

To Mama

Dear Mama, 

What an incredible life you have had, and what an amazing woman you were, Ann Scott. Your life is an inspiration for women today. You never let the restrictions of this world define or limit you. You rose above the poverty and circumstances of your youth. With only a high school education, you never stopped learning and educating yourself, and you never let the fact that you were a “just a woman” thwart your aspirations.

Could you have imagined how far you would go in your life? You surpassed the limits put on women and became a respected, admired, leader in your career, your church, and your family. You have met First Ladies, rubbed elbows with Governors and Mayors, and have called great people of influence in this country by their first names! Your work changed the face and future of the state of Colorado.

Could you have imagined that you would be the matriarch of such a grand family? What a marvelous example and heritage you have passed on to your children and grandchildren and even great grandchildren. I am proud to point to you as a role model for my daughters and granddaughter. You have shown us the power of faith in God, and the empowerment of hard work. You have taught us to never be ashamed of who we are and to live in such a way that we will never have reason to be shamed. You were never too busy, too sick, too tired, or too occupied to be there for us when we needed you.

I am blessed to be your daughter.

Sleep gently dear Mama, rest in peace.

Robyn

Ann Scott

September 21, 1917 - April 7, 2009