On The Women Who Made This Woman

"The aged women likewise, that they be in behaviour as becometh holiness, not false accusers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things; That they may teach the young women to be sober, to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed." -Titus 2:3-5-

Yesterday I went rock climbing with my Colorado family.  If you have had the opportunity to meet them you know without my saying how awesome an adventure we had together.  I will not go into the details of our fun as that is not the point of this post.  The point is how my interaction with my Meah got me to thinking of all the women in my life who have helped to shape the woman I am today and what a great debt I owe to them for fulfilling their responsibilities of being a Godly example. 

I will start by saying that I battle with a fear of heights, it's enough to slow my adventurous spirit but it's mild enough it can be ignored when I am faced with the proper motivation to push through.  I was belaying Meah on one of the lower level climbing walls and right as she got to the point where I personally had felt terror trying to overtake my body she said she was done and ready to come down.  I complied and helped her to the ground and within a couple minutes she wanted to go up again.  I looked her in the eye and said, "I will belay you only if you push through your fear and go all the way to the top."  She assured me she would and got about halfway up the wall when she said she was yet again ready to come down.  "Come on Meah you've got this, I was scared right there too, just focus on where you are going to move next and you will make it."  Slowly she climbed her way to the top as I talked with her giving her pointers on good foot/hand holds.  When she tapped the top of the wall I couldn't help but let her know what a superstar she was.  By the end of the two hours she was climbing up several different walls and having a blast and even going out of her way to encourage me up one wall.  Toward the end of our climbing time she looked at me and with all of her 9yr old sweetness said, "Thank you for helping me climb and calling me a superstar.  It really helped and made me feel safe." 

I have been contemplating our exchange throughout my morning scripture read and was brought to remembrance of all the wonderful women who were, and still are, an example shaping and molding me into a better woman.  Essentially I just want to give a shout out to you all.  Some of you will know what you have meant to me already, but sadly some of you I may never have told and it is only right you should know your example has been seen and followed and become an intricate part of who I am.

So...to my mother who has ever been an example of giving 100% of herself in love, to my Aunt Bonnie who has been to me a second mother, to my grandmother who showed me the beauty of loving without using words, to my Aunt Eva Lyn who made me believe I can accomplish anything I decide to do, to my Aunt Leah who taught me hope is just as necessary and strong as faith, to my Aunt Bethany who taught me the importance of enjoying every minute you have with those you love, to my Aunt Lisa who taught me that sometimes a little bit of crazy is a good thing, to grandma Case who taught me that quiet is not the same as boring and everyone can benefit from a ladylike quiet, to Uncle Donnie's Bonnie who taught me you can be goofy and still be a lady, to Lana Hill who taught me the beauty of being a faithful wife and mother, to Aunt Linda who taught me the importance of love and patience in a marriage, to Aunt Paula who taught me that faithful doesn't mean pushy, to  Debbi Vogel who taught me what it is to put others first always, to Manon Lawrence who taught me that praising the Lord is a personal thing and not to think of what other's opinions are of my gift to God, to Janice Welch who taught me what it is to forgive and make amends with those you love, to Wanda Jo Eddy who taught me the strength in being humble, to Carrie Gier who taught me that a happy attitude will change your outlook on things for the better, to Chris Moser who taught me the ability of a mother's heart to love all who come her way, to Debby Brown who taught me the importance of having an open home and heart, to Kathy Ely who taught me what it is to love without losing hope, to Betty McIndoo who taught me what it is to love your children and family....Thank You.  More than I can say, thank you.

You should know this is not a comprehensive list, and I hope it is one that will keep growing for as long as I am alive.  That I will ever be learning and growing from the example of the women I know and love.  I hope and pray that I will live worthy of the women who's examples have touched my life, and someday my Meah will be able to look back and say that I was a Godly example and source of strength in hers. 

Shower of Sorrow

I am about to relate to you a very personal and traumatic experience.  It has taken me several weeks to recover from the trauma sufficiently to share.  Some things are just too life altering to process all at once, they are moments you never fully recover from.  I am afraid this was one of those moments. 

To set the scene for you I must give you an idea of what my morning schedule consists of.  I work five days a week at one of the best jobs ever.  Sadly, it's a 40 minute drive from my house and when you add on a 9hr work day I find am not prone to working out at the end of my shift.  To avoid ballooning into a smurf like character and to avoid valley traffic I wake up around 4:15 in the morning and get on the road by 5am.  This allows me about 45minutes to work out prior to my 7am on duty time.  Not wanting to be sweaty and gross all day I take a shower before changing into my work clothes.

Normally this entire process, besides the waking up part, is a relatively easy and stress relieving part of my day.  The morning work out puts me in an awesome mood and gets me ready to face the day.  Typically by the time I am taking my shower I am awake and happy enough to be singing along to my workout music. (that's right folks, I sing in the shower and feel no shame over it) 

Tuesday morning two weeks ago, instead of singing I found myself weeping like a child who just found out their favorite vanilla ice cream had been replaced with horseradish sauce. (I'm sorry I ever played that trick on you Kat.) Here's what happened...

I had an awesome workout and was feeling particularly beasty.  I hopped in the shower and started singing along with Beyonce like any other day.  Mentally I started going over my 'to do' list while going through a quick shower process. You know....face, hair then body. (I like doing things in a specific order as does anyone with a type A personality.  Don't act like I'm the only weirdo out there, I know all of you type A's are secretly thinking of your particular shower order as you read this.) Anyway, I had just gotten to the hair part and Put a nice dollop of shampoo in my hand with which I fully intended to scrub my scalp. (This is where things get ugly)

I remember lifting my right hand up toward my head when all at once I felt what can only be described as an intense and literally blinding pain shoot through my right eyeball.  While my vocal chords were straining with a blood curdling scream of pain (it went something along the lines of, "grrraaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh God, oh God, please help me, aaaaaarrrrrrhhhhhh") my brain, scrambling to process what just happened, realized I had just dropped that entire dollop of shampoo into my eyeball. 

Eyes closed I threw myself against the tile wall of the shower for support while trying to force my eye open.  The pain was like a thousand paper knives slicing tiny paper cuts onto my eyeball while a giant lemon squeezed itself over my bare cornea.  I couldn't make my eyelids open. While trying to force my eyeball open I started yelling and whimpering all at once, "Oh, God what am I going to do?  I can't see, I can't see!! Oh Lord, it hurts so bad, it hurts so bad. Okay, Laura just breathe, your okay, it's going to be okay, just breathe.  Aaaaaahhhhhhh I hurts so bad, Oh God it hurts so bad!!"

In my mind I vaguely remembered my mother trying to rinse something out of my eye once and my reaction being somewhat similar.  Her voice rang somewhere in my head, "Laura if you don't rinse it out it's just going to hurt worse and worse.  You have to rinse it."  With my left eye opened I looked at the water blasting out of the shower head in front of me.  The terror I felt at the thought of holding my eye open under that deluge made me more sick than the shooting pain through my eyeball.  You have to understand, this shower is not typical.  The water pressure coming out of this shower is almost enough to blast the hair right off your legs for you.  Typically I keep myself moving around as I shower because the pressure is so high that to stand in one spot for too long would be asking for a surface abrasion on whatever part of your body was unfortunate enough to be subjected to your foolish stillness.  Knowing the pain this water pressure can cause on my skin I was less than excited at the prospect of opening my eyeball so it could be blasted by the liquid needles flying out at me.  But....I knew it had to be done.

Taking a deep breath I raised my face and felt the blades of water sear my skin as I slowly pried my eyelids apart. "Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh, it hurts so bad!" I screamed as I slammed my eyeball shut again.  Unfortunately shutting the eye hurt just as badly and I quickly peeled it back open yelling, "My eye, my eye it hurts so bad!!!"

Six times I went through this process trying to rinse all the shampoo out.  Halfway through I felt something on my upper lip that I thought was soap lingering on my face.  As I reached up to wipe it off I realized it was snot pouring out of my nose almost as quickly as the water was pouring into my eye. "Uuuuggggghhhhh gross, what the thunder is going on?" All I could think was the water was running right behind my eyeball and washing out my sinus cavity.  As if being blinded wasn't bad enough, now I had to be all gross and snotty on top of it?!  Was there no end to this horrendous episode?  Was I going to trip and knock myself out next?  Seriously!

After about six torturous washes under the shower I tested my eye out and found I could actually control my eyelids on their own and had a partially blurred view of the shower wall.  Good enough to stop with the water torture.  I quickly rinsed the last of the snot off my face and slowly, carefully finished my shower and got myself ready for the day.  As I looked into the mirror before heading out of the locker room I saw my eyeball was a beautiful red splotch that seemed to scream at everyone who might give it a second look, "She did this to me, she tried to kill me!".  Silently I wondered if the blurriness would go away as the day went on or if I would need to make a visit to the optometrist.  Thankfully I did not have to seek medical attention.

What is the point of this long, winding and embarrassing story?  Well, let my woes be a lesson to you.  When you are putting shampoo in your hair, you should keep your eyes closed.  And for the sake of your eyeballs....check your water pressure people, check your water pressure.

Chapter Three: Lost

     International travel today, while still exciting and scattered with various hazards, is not what it was in the mid 80's.  During the 80's both Mexico and Central America were dealing with civil unrest and guerrilla warfare was a daily reality.  The mountains were littered with tiny guerrilla camps whose entrances were easily mistaken for the poorly signed and maintained roadways.  Even major roadways were typically two lane pot holed nightmares with little or no signage. On top of those hazards many maps during those days were missing roads between smaller towns making it far too easy to lose your way. 
     In the early years of our travels my father spoke no Spanish and my mother precious little, which meant making our way through the country was as much a mastery of Spanish Sign Language as it was the ability to read maps and road signs.  I have no doubt it is a miracle we did not drive off the edge of some unmarked cliff somewhere.  What did happen, many times over, is we often became lost and had to back track to the nearest village where my mother would use her blend of Spanish and simple Sign Language to glean some idea of where we went wrong and where to go next.  Typically the answer was, "Aya" (over there) accompanied by the amazingly unhelpful lip purse.
     Those who have ever seen me give the lip purse will know automatically what I am talking about, but for those of you who are unfamiliar here is a visual example for you.  If you would please purse your lips into almost a pucker, now point those puckered lips in any given direction...that's it.  That is the Latin American lip purse, and it is given as the answer to any question involving directions.  "Where is the central park?", you ask a gentleman waiting for a bus, "Aya", he replies with pursed lips pointing somewhere behind you.  Needless to say, my family became very skilled at reading lip directions.
     I don't know if it was our first or second trip to Honduras, I was somewhere between 4-6yrs old, but I do remember we were in the Chiapas region of southern Mexico.  The area borders Guatemala and is very mountainous.  I know that during that particular time period the Zapatistas, a guerrilla group creating civil unrest in the area, were very active and had kidnapped a few missionary couples who had been held for ransom.  There was not any open fighting between the Zapatistas and the local or national government at the time, however several small scrimmages had been known to have occurred.  We were heading through the Chiapas region toward Guatemala and, as usual, we became lost.  I don't know how late it was at night, but it was well past sundown.  I believe my parents were attempting to get to the nearest large town to stay the night when we became turned around.  My brothers and I were all bedded down in the van and I was lying on the bench seat directly behind my parents.  I remember I was staring out at the trees and stars in the sky as we bumped along the back roads. 
     We came to a small village where my parents got directions back to the 'main road'.  Several minutes after heading back out I heard my parents discussing our location.  My father did not think the man had given us the right directions and they were deciding whether to keep going or turn around again.  As they debated the pros and cons I began to fade into sleep and did not realize we had come to a check point. Check points were very common and frequent in every Latin American country during that time period, however we were in the middle of nowhere in the mountains.  The military had no reason to put a check point on a tiny road that did not even connect to a large town.
     In my half sleep I felt the car had stopped moving and I struggled through my tired stupor to open my eyes.  When I did I found I was looking up at the stern face of a man in full military garb.  He was wearing a ballistic helmet and had a rifle strapped to his shoulder.  His eyes were hard and calculating as he met my gaze.  I looked up at him and stared straight into those large brown eyes.  I remember the rifle was startling and scary but I wanted somehow to make him know I was glad to see him.  I gave him my biggest smile and waved hello, all the while staring straight into his eyes.  His lips faintly curled into a smile of his own as his eyes became softer and his hand waved hello in response.  Slowly he turned toward my father's window and began speaking.  He gave my parents perfect directions back to the main road where we were able to move on to our final destination for the night.
     It was not until years later that I learned how terrified my parents had been that night.  How we were not at a sanctioned military check point, but at the check point for a guerrilla camp.  It was not until I became an adult that I fully comprehended how much potential danger we were in and how our lives were literally in the hands of that one man.  I tease my parents sometimes and tell them that I single-handedly saved our lives by smiling and waving at that very moment and in a sense I do believe that is true, however as I had no knowledge of it I can't really take any glory for it.  What amazes me about that night is how God can use the perfect beauty and innocence of a child to soften the hearts of men.  How one simple gesture of love and friendliness can change the course of time and events.            
     Mostly though, it is a testimony to me that no matter where we are or what circumstances we may be in, the Lord knows and is in full control.  He is faithful to keep His promises.  Promises to protect and watch over His children wherever they may be.     

24 Hours in the Canyon

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." -Psalm 23:4

     Saturday October 20th, 2012 4am
 I am standing at the Bright Angel trail head on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon.  I am freezing.  All night I had tossed and turned chilled to the bone and unable to warm my feet.  I had not gotten enough sleep, but here I stood with my group of new friends. (one old friend who had just introduced me to his extended family yesterday)  They are all ultra runners and have done this trek many times.  They will run from the south rim to the north rim and back again in a matter of 12-16 hours.  I have hiked the canyon from rim to rim before, but I am not a runner I am a backpacker.  I have completed the 23. something miles in three days time.  Never have I attempted hiking the entire thing back and forth (over 46miles) in one shot.  I am a bundle of frozen nerves and excitement as we snap a group photo and head down the side of the canyon.  I know, being the only hiker in the group, I will take much longer to make the journey and therefore for the majority of my day I will be hiking alone.  Strangely I am looking forward to the solitude.  I think to myself, "Well Lord, it's just you me and this beautiful creation of yours all day long."  The unending expanse of stars seem to twinkle to me in response as I carefully make my way down the switchbacks in the darkness.  I can see the headlamps of my group winding quickly down the trail, but I feel no rush as I have determined to make this as enjoyable a journey as possible.  "This is not about speed.", I think to myself, "This is just about making it across and back alive and sharing the time with God.  No distractions.".

I couldn't help but glance out at the canyon now and again.  The dark outline of the canyon walls set against a starry backdrop was too beautiful to ignore.  As I turned on my ipod and settled into the steady measure of walking I heard what sounded like the low growl of a cat. Terrified I yanked out my ear buds and spun around searching everywhere with my light and listening in the stillness for any indication of what made the sound.  After a few moments of perfect silence I laughed at myself, "Laura calm down, there are no mountain lions or large cats in the canyon. You're too jumpy."  I put my ear buds back in and continued down the trail.  A few moments later the canyon behind me was lit up with a brilliant light.  I thought someone on the trail below was shining a spotlight up at me and spun to see where it had come from.  As I looked out I saw a line of glowing embers cut across the sky.  The tail of some comet or giant meteor glowed for almost a full minute.  I have never seen something so amazing.  As if a portion of the veil of heaven was torn and left a burning scar on the face of the sky.  I thought to myself, "This is going to be an awesome day!"

     5am
I had nearly caught up to two of the slower runners in my group (a mother and daughter pair).  They had taken a quick break which allowed for me to catch up.  I was one switchback away from them when I saw a headlamp quickly fly down the side of the canyon.  Next I heard the sounds of something falling against the rocks and underbrush. "Dear God", I prayed as I quickly sped my way to them,"Please keep her safe, don't let any harm come to her.".  I heard the girls mother yell her daughter's name with the sound of choked panic ready to burst out.  "I'm okay mom.", was the quiet reply.  The next couple minutes the three of us created a human chain.  Me anchored against a rock holding her mother's hand as she grabbed her daughter below and hoisted her back onto the trail.  She was shaken, but mostly unharmed.  Her head had hit against the tree which had stopped her descent further into the canyon and one of her legs was bruised up.  After taking a moment to catch our breath we started out again and within ten minutes they were flying down the trail several switchbacks ahead of me again. 

     5:30am
I began to see signs of what I had been expectantly waiting for, sunrise.  The sky turned a dark raspberry color first, then the color reflected off the canyon walls making them glow a deep fiery red.  The red glow turned to golden and slowly the shadows began lifting up off of every nook and cranny.  Slowly the crickets began to sing with the birds joining in not long after.  They were singing a song of the morning and alerting the earth to the dawning of a new day.  I cannot describe how amazing and invigorating it was to be there, essentially alone in the world and watching it wake up with the sun.  I love every sunrise, the hope that comes with a new day is always precious to me.  This one was perfectly breathtaking.  I walked into the first major resting place on the trail just as the sunrise reached its peak of glory.  As I refilled my water and ate my first snack I reveled in the opportunity to be right where I was experiencing this new day.  I thought to myself, "This moment in my life will never come again.", I just wanted to steep it like a tea bag staining the very walls of my memory. 

     7am
The sun was fully up and climbing as high as my hopes for the day.  My goal had been to make the trip across and back in about 18hrs and from the looks of things it was possible for me to do so.  As I headed into my second set of switchbacks that lead to the canyon floor I thought of the several religions who participate in great pilgrimages to draw closer to their god by taking a physically taxing journey toward a holy destination.  I couldn't help but draw parallels to my own walk.  No, I was not going toward any sacred destination, but would I not be pushing the limits of my physical ability and needing to draw strength from the Lord to complete this hike?  It's not as though I had not prepared for this trip.  I had been running and hiking for months now to build myself to a physical point where it was even a possibility to consider, but I was not foolish enough to think that so many miles across such rough terrain would be an easy feat for me.  I would not lie to myself and say I knew the mental and physical challenges I would be facing.  I had no clue.  Perhaps that was part of the draw of taking the trip in the first place.  To begin and finish a pilgrimage into my very heart and test who I was and just exactly where I placed my trust. 

     8:45am
Phantom Ranch is a beautiful location alongside the Colorado River.  It has a campsite and several cabins and is the only location in the entire canyon that can boast a small restaurant and store.  If you are craving any amenities of the 'real world' they can only be found at Phantom Ranch.  As I come into the first part of the ranch a small deer is feeding at the side of the trail.  I pull out my camera afraid it will run away, but it just watches as I approach.  I come within arms length of the creature and it just looks up at me with it's dark eyes as if asking me to pet it.  I am VERY tempted to reach my hand out to it, so awed at this awesome opportunity, then I see the mites around it's eyes and am reminded that wild deer are infested with all kinds of fleas and pestilence....it's probably better I just snap a photo and move on.  The store is of no interest to me, but I pause to use the restroom, refill my water and eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before moving on.  The rule for every backpacker is when you are stopped at a location to refuel, you do so, whether you think you need it or not.  Because you can never be sure of any water or restroom available further along the trail.  I am excited that I am making such great time.  Maybe I will even be able to finish in less than 18hrs.

     10am
I have quickly passed the two miles from Phantom Ranch through a beautiful canyon where the trail takes you along side a subsidiary of the Colorado River.  It is cool and inviting with the sounds of the rushing water echoing off the sides of the canyon walls.  My mood is good and I am making better time than I expected.  Then I come out of the small canyon and into the open floor of the Grand Canyon.  The sun is now high above me and every inch of shade is gone.  The trail becomes short bursts of uphill and down hill as I weave my way toward my next break before ascending the North Rim.  The heat is quickly sapping my energy and in the 6.6 miles between Phantom Ranch and Cottonwood Campground I have drunk all of my three liters of water.  The last 3 miles into Cottonwood seem to take forever and as I get to the water station I realize just how zapped I am for energy and that I am now behind schedule.  I eat a quick lunch and drink down a liter of water and electrolytes before moving on.

     11:45
I meet one of my group who is returning from the North Rim.  He tells me I am not far from the Caretaker's House (a cool and shady water station) and I am doing good.  I tell him I have calculated my time and think I will forge ahead, but tell everyone not to wait up for me because I probably won't be out of the canyon until 12 or 1am at the speed I am currently hiking.  He nods and continues on his way.  In the next few minutes I reach the Caretaker's House.  It is a beautiful spot nestled on the side of the canyon and I take a moment to soak in the beauty as I refill my water once again.  The design of the restrooms infuriate me.  I am forced to walk down from the trail to a platform then back up a flight of stairs to the restrooms.  "Seriously, I have to go down to go back up, then back down and up to the trail again?!"  I am sure whoever created this design was laughing the whole time.  Surely they would know what an imposition this is to people who are conserving every bit of energy for the trail!?  My irritation is short lived though.  Who can be irritated long when surrounded by such beauty?  Besides, I'm still making good time and I do not feel over exhausted at all.  I head back onto the trail, which from this point becomes a very steep winding ascent to the rim of the canyon.

     12:45
It has been a looong time since I hiked the North Kibab Trail, but I remember more trees and shade, where is the shade already?  The afternoon sun is fierce and combined with the steep ascent, narrow trail and slippery gravel it's  exhausting.  I feel like I should at least be half way up the side of this thing by now.  I meet another member of our group who tells me it's another 5 miles to the top.  I check my time and think, "Well that's not too bad, I should be able to make that in two to two and a half hours."  I give him the same information I gave the previous group member.  I am continuing up, but don't expect a quick return.  As I continue up the trail I notice the differences between this rim and the south rim.  Where the trail on the south side is mostly wide and compacted dirt with rocks and wooden steps holding a steady grade, this side is half as wide, more steep and in several locations carved directly out of the canyon wall.  Because of the design it is more slippery and for the most part does not have the switchbacks the South side has.  With switchbacks even if you stumble and fall you will most likely be stopped at the next trail making your fall only about 50ft or so.  Without switchbacks a fall could mean several hundred to thousand feet before you are stopped.  "Wow, I would not want to have to come down this thing in the dark.", I thought, "I sure am glad we started on the South side and not the North side.".

     2:45
I have now been hiking for ten hours and forty-five minutes.  My muscles feel good but I know I am getting tired.  While I eat my package of tuna and snacks I speak to a couple who have crossed rim to rim.  For a few minutes we discuss the trail and our various routes and I explain to them my dilemma. We are currently 1.7 miles from the North Rim trail head.  I know I can force myself to push through, but I also know it is almost 3pm and as soon as the sun begins to set it will set quickly.  No sun on the North Rim means temperatures dip very low and very fast at this time of year, plus it means the possibility of going down this more precarious trail alone and in the dark.  At my current speed it would take at least an hour to complete the trail times two for the return it means giving up what may possibly be the last two hours of daylight.  Everything in me wants to continue hiking and be able to say that I completed the entire thing...but wisdom is whispering in my ear telling me it's time to turn back.  The couple look as sad for me as I feel.  The wife says, "No you can't turn back.", but I see in her husband's eyes that he knows I should and is concerned for me.  "We have some extra food, will you take it?".  I had planned enough food for 18hrs, but the reality hits me that I will be out for much longer than that. "Yes, I'll take whatever you don't need."  He gives me a package of salted crackers and several fruit snacks.  "These are great for quick energy", he says as he hands them to me, "Be safe."  "Oh I will be fine.", I reply, but for the first time all day I feel the distance across the canyon and recognize the huge task that lies before me.  For the first time all day I feel alone.  What if something happens to me, who will know?  The group won't know something is wrong until morning and there is no way to reach any of them.  What will I do if something goes wrong?  "Laura, you are not alone.  You are never alone.  You are walking this canyon with it's creator remember?"  That single thought was enough to comfort me. "Lord", I asked as I began my descent, "Please bless me to stay strong mentally and physically.  Please help me to have light for as long as possible that I may get to the bottom without having to navigate in the dark."

     5:45
I cannot believe the light is still with me!  Usually it's pitch dark in the canyon by the time the sun crosses the edge of the rim, but that happened a half hour ago and there is still light enough to see without using my headlamp.  I am also amazed at how much ground I am covering, I am almost back to the small canyon with the river running through which means I only have about two miles till Phantom Ranch again.  Then it's only about ten miles to the top.  Maybe I will be able to do this thing in 20hrs.  My body does not feel overly exhausted and with the setting of the sun I am not zapped of strength from the heat.  I thank the Lord for the extended light and keep plugging along.

     7:45
I'm back at Phantom Ranch.  As I take a break to refuel I notice just how much my feet are pulsing.  I know there are blisters on each heel, I can feel them growing.  I consider peeling off my socks to see but realize if I know what they look like I will not be able to get my mind off the pain.  At my best time I still have six hours of walking ahead of me and I cannot focus on pain if I'm going to make myself keep going.  I look longingly at the cabins and campsites.  All I want to do is crawl into a bed and sleep for a year.  But sleep is not an option right now, only movement.  As I force myself to eat I chat with a middle aged woman who is waiting for her husband to use the telephone.  "You look like a day hiker.", she says.  I explain what I am doing and where I am going. "Oh honey", she says with deepest sympathy in her voice, "I am so sorry.  I think you are so very brave to do this by yourself.  I do not have that in me.  But, oh I hope you are okay."  I reassure her that, while I am tired my body feels strong and since I have no choice at this point I will push myself to do it.  I part with her well wishes on my ears and walk out of the campground yelling at myself for not turning back sooner in the day.  The ten miles ahead of me may as well have been ten thousand.  My mind was quickly feeling the exhaustion of nearly 16hrs hiking with only 10 minute breaks.  I knew there was no chance of solid sleep until I crested the top of the South Rim, but I also knew my body was nearing it's point of shutting down.  "Please Lord, can you please help me stay alert.  Keep rattlesnakes and scorpions and animals that would hurt me away and help me to keep moving."  A cool breeze kicked up and kissed my cheeks waking me from my semi stupor.  "Just keep walking.", I thought, "Just keep walking."

     9:45
I am moving slower from the mental toll of the day, but I am doing okay.  My body is holding up and I am going to push through to the top.  All at once I feel something pull/pop in my right calf.  I know my calf muscle has (at minimum) pulled very badly.  The pain is so instant and great I am afraid the muscle is partially torn. Though no one is near to hear me I cry out in pain as I slowly put weight down on it.  It is holding the weight of my body, but the pain is so intense I can hardly stand it.  I know I am near the first set of switchbacks and it is straight up from that point on for about 6 miles.  "Dear God", I cry "Please I need your help.  I don't know what just happened, but it's bad and if it gets worse I can't go on.  Please help it Lord.  Please help it somehow to heal enough to get me out.  I don't care if it hurts, but please make the pain bearable and help it to be strong enough to get me out of the canyon.".  "Just keep moving.", I thought, "Just keep moving.".  So move I did.  The first few minutes were very painful, but as I went on the pain calmed to a dull roar that I could ignore.  "Thank you God.", I whispered, "Thank you."

     10:45
I had begun the most gradual portion of the ascent.  There was a cliff on my left and a small creek (about 4-5ft wide) on my right.  The pain in my leg had become my new normal and I was back almost to my pre-injury pace. 
I heard a rustling in the bushes across the creek and thought I might catch a glimpse of some elk or deer.  I paused to look across the water and felt frozen cold with terror when I saw two huge glowing eyes meet mine.  Now, I am no wildlife buff, in fact I have only read a few Ranger Rick magazines in my lifetime, but I have had the pleasure of spotlighting for elk and deer at night and am pretty familiar with what their eyes look like when lit up at night.  These were no elk or deer eyes.  I instantly knew these were the eyes of some type of predator.  Afraid to know, but realizing I should be aware of what I might be up against I slowly scanned the area.  What I saw chilled me to the bone.  The perfectly formed six foot long body of a huge black cat. (when I looked it up online I am pretty sure it was a Panther, which are apparently quite common in the Grand Canyon)  I couldn't tell if it had treed an animal or was in the process of sharpening it's claws, but it was pushing down on a medium sized tree bending it to the ground.  "What do I do?  Oh Lord what can I do?  That thing is at best six feet away from me...they stalk their prey.  I have no way to protect myself.  Oh Please Lord help it not to pay attention to me, because I cannot fend that thing off."  It probably was only a matter of seconds, but it felt like I was frozen in that spot for an hour debating my options.  "Just keep walking.", I thought, "Just turn around and walk normally away.".  I tell you what, that is easier said than done.  But with the injury to my calf and the uphill grade I knew that was the only option I had before me.  Pray and keep walking.  I did pick up a sizable rock and carry it for awhile.  I don't know what I thought I was going to do with a rock against such an amazingly powerful creature, but it made me feel better anyway.  For several miles I turned terrified at every sound, sure it was just behind me waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

     11:45
I am at the Hanging Gardens.  The last big resting area before the top of the canyon.  I have five miles left and my brain is so spent I can hardly stand it.  I refill my water, use the restroom where I throw on my warmer clothes. (The wind has picked up and the temperatures at the top of the rim are hovering around 30 degrees.  The closer I get the colder it will become.)  The last twenty minutes I have been fighting mental fatigue and begun to stumble and loose my balance on the trail.  As I eat a snack and take my last ibuprofen I debate the pros and cons of a nap.  If I take a small nap it may help me be alert enough to continue on, but if I rest too long my muscles will seize up and I will be unable to climb out at all.  I realize I cannot begin the final switchbacks with poor balance, that is a perfect recipe for falling off the side of the canyon.  So I say a prayer that just 15 minutes will help me be alert enough mentally to safely continue, but not be so much time that my muscles seize up on me.  I prop my feet up on my Camelback and set my alarm.  Time goes by too quickly, but I feel much more alert and though still tired able to continue on.

     1am
I am now on a steady ascent through switchbacks.  My nap has completely worn off and I am fighting through muscle fatigue and a cloud of mental exhaustion.  I force myself to go two switchbacks before stopping. As I go I chant to myself, "Just-keep-walk-ing-move-your-feet-and-keep-on-breath-ing-you-can-do-this."  When I allow myself to stop, I slowly tell myself to calm my breathing,  bring down my heartbeat and think.  When I calm myself down I pray God bless me with clarity of thought and endurance to keep going.  In the moments when I am closest to fading a cold breeze blows through waking me or I hear a sound that startles me and brings me to complete alertness.  Each time I know it is a blessing and quietly thank Him.

     2am
I can tell I am within 3miles or so of the rim because the Pinon pine trees are now dotting the landscape and the breeze has turned quite cold.  It's cold enough now that when I stop for any amount of time my sweat quickly dries and I begin to shiver.  I have to keep moving just to stay warm.  About a mile back I foolishly stepped in a mud puddle and followed it up by tripping over a rock.  As a consequence there was a huge pain on one of my toes of my left foot.  It felt like the toenail had ripped right off the toe and the water and dirt were rubbing into the wound.  "Ignore it", I thought "There is nothing you can do about it right now anyway.  Just ignore the pain and keep moving."  I fight myself around one more switchback and realize I have become cloudy enough that I am starting to lose balance again.  At the next rocky outcropping I scan for any snakes, scorpions or spiders and sit down.  It is time for another nap.  I set my alarm and turn off my headlamp.  The stars quickly take the place of my lamp and light up a brilliant night sky.  I see the big dipper constellation clearer than I have ever seen it, almost like it's highlighted shinning even brighter than the other stars just so I can pick it out.  I think of the first time my mother taught me about the constellations and even in my exhausted stupor I am amazed a the wonder and beauty of the world.  I sleep for only eight minutes,  I am too exposed and the cold wind wakes me.  It is enough to keep me going.

     2:30am
I come to a secluded rock outcropping that is protected by the wind and on less of an incline than the last spot.  I scan for any 'natives' hiding in the nooks and cranny's of the rocks and settle myself in.  I know I am within a couple miles of the top, but I am too exhausted to push through without a good solid 15 minute rest.  I set my alarm and quickly fall into a profoundly deep sleep.  When my alarm wakes me I feel refreshed and ready to continue on.

     4am
I come to a rock formation I recognize, I know I am within a mile of the trail head and I am elated.  As I come around a corner I see the lights of the hotel at the South Rim and my spirits are lifted nearly to the crest of the canyon itself.  "You've got this Gill. You're almost there.", I whisper to myself with a smile.  While I look longingly at the lights I see two headlamps heading down the trail.  Runners starting out, they have marked the top of the trail for me and I now know exactly where it is.  The excitement does not carry itself into my drained muscles as they are moving like molasses in winter, but I do not force them faster.  They have borne enough for me and I know the end is near.  I will bear with their slow movement up as long as they continue to move.  Moments later the runners pass me with a quick, "good morning" then one turns back.  "Hey, are you the cop lady that hiked rim to rim to rim and started out yesterday?", "Yes that's me.".  "Oh good.  One of your friends was worried.  He came to the trail head to wait for you and was here till 1am but didn't see you come out.  You made it , good job!".  "Thanks", I quietly replied.  I was touched that someone was waiting and concerned for my safety even though there was nothing within reason they could do for me.  I slowly plodded on.

     4:30am
I slowly turned the very last corner and trudged my way to flat ground. Inside I was whooping with joy and elation, but my body was too tired to respond.  The wind was brutally cold and I was still 1.5 miles away from our campground.  I took myself to a port-o-potty to get away from the wind and attempted to call my friend Goff.  Of course...his phone was off.  I sat there shivering and wondering how I could possibly make it another mile and a half walking in this cold wind.  "I'm too tired Lord.  I'm so tired."  I felt a huge need to share with someone that I had come out alive and after sending a text to my niece who I knew was asleep I called a friend at work.  We talked for a few minutes and then I ended the conversation knowing it was time to walk myself back to camp whether I wanted to or not.  The group would be waking soon and I didn't want them to be afraid something had happened to me.  Just as I was exiting the port-o-potty I heard a bus go by.  I could not walk fast enough to get to the stop before it drove away, I could not yell loud enough for the driver to hear me.  The bus stop had no protection from the wind and as I waited for the next bus I huddled against a pillar shivering violently from the cold.  Finally the next bus came and drove me within a few hundred feet of the campsite.  As I walked up to the camp I realized how violently cold I was and knew my tent would not provide enough heat for me in my cold condition.  I pulled my sleeping bags out of my tent and (strange as it sounds) took them to the bathroom where I huddled on the floor.  It was gross, but so was I after 24hrs of hiking and at least it offered protection from the wind.  After an hour of shivering I ventured out to see if anyone was awake.  One of our group members saw me walk up and asked if I was okay and did I just get out?  I told him I was out at 4:30 but everyone was still asleep and I didn't want to wake them.  I must have looked some kind of a wreck because concern covered his face as he asked what he could do for me.  I said, through chattering teeth, that I didn't know but I could not get myself to warm up.  He quickly got a key to one of the vehicles and tucked me inside with a giant sleeping bag and the heater on full blast.  "I am making you some hot chocolate to warm you up inside", he said as he closed the door.  I nodded my assent and lay there shivering for about fifteen minutes.  Finally my body temperature leveled out and I was able to sit up and drink the hot chocolate offered me.  As I stumbled out and around the campground gathering my things to leave my friend Goff said, "Smile, you just hiked the Grand Canyon." And so I had.

There are huge blisters on both of my feet.  Three days later I am still slowly moving like a geriatric patient with bad arthritis and no cane.  When I walk it feels like I am stepping on glass shards, parts of both feet are totally numb and the thought of putting on work boots tomorrow still makes me cringe.  I have been asked several times if it was worth it, and my answer is unequivocally yes.  I spent 24.5 hours solid with nothing but my creator and His creation.  I had an opportunity to push myself past my own physical limits to where I could only rely on His strength to bring me through.  I saw amazing vistas and creatures I may never have a chance to see again.  And most of all I know where my greatest strength lies, and it is not in myself.  I would not say that everyone should go out and hike the length of the Grand Canyon or any similar venture, but I would say this.  I believe we all have our Grand Canyon moments.  Those journeys in our lives that seem too great, too exhausting and too much for us to endure.  When we are faced with them we have two choices.  We can look at that gaping canyon and say, "it's too much, it's too dangerous, I will stay here where I know it is beautiful and safe."  or we can step out onto the trail and keep moving when every fiber of our body begs for us not to.  If you never enter the valley you will never know how much the Lord is willing and able to bring you through.  Faith must come before great miracles can happen, and faith must be acted upon.  

On David and the Return of the Covenants

     Covenant: 1.) A usually formal, solemn, and binding agreement
                       2.) A written agreement or promise usually under a seal between two or more parties especially for the performance of some action.

     There are times when for no obvious reason I feel separated from the Lord.  I may be doing all that I know to do and praying to him, but somehow the communication is not happening.  In those moments I feel an anxious loneliness that builds inside of me and cannot be explained.  It's as though I can hear the song He is playing but, try as hard as I might, I'm just slightly off key.  I rack my mind trying to find why and how I am out of sync with His music.

     The past couple of days I have found myself in this state of limbo.  Longing to hear Him, see Him or somehow break that strange separation and truly communicate with Him once again.  This morning as I drove into work I contemplated my thoughts and feelings asking God, "What am I doing wrong that I feel so far away?  I want to feel you right next to me guiding and protecting me."  I waited for a brief moment, but nothing...so I turned on the radio and halfheartedly sang along.  All the while my heart was crying and after a few moments I could not ignore it anymore.  I turned off the radio and told the Lord I would just sit in the silence and listen for Him....nothing.  Mentally I began talking over my feelings with one of my friends when all at once it dawned on me....maybe I should just talk it over with Him.  Huh. That should have been more obvious.  So I started talking,  I started by apologizing if it was an incorrect approach but I just felt the need to talk with Him as though He was sitting right next to me.  I told Him how I felt and did not understand why.  Was there something inside my heart holding me back from Him?  Then it came.  No voices, no lightning or thunder, just a single thought, "your will". All at once it was that obvious, my will.

     This human heart of mine is such a willful thing.  Even in moments when I believe I have handed over the controls there is a part of me, ever so tiny, that withholds.  It was that part of my heart which was making me deaf to the Lord.  Keeping me from feeling His whole presence, because I was attempting to keep Him from the whole of my heart.

     I know you are wondering what this can possibly have to do with David of old...but I promise I am getting there.  Typically I start my morning with a run.  It's a beautiful run and a perfect way to start the day, but after my revelation on my way in I felt the need to spend the time walking with my Heavenly Father.  I wanted to watch the earth wake up while still feeling Him close to me, as if waiting to show me the day He created for me.  I turned on my praise music and began a slow jog along the canal where I run.  It was splendid and with each step I relinquished a little more of my personal hopes and desires.

     As I jogged I thought of David.  When he returned to Jerusalem with the Ark and Covenant.  I considered how he came before it dancing and singing praises to his God.  The story has always been intriguing to me.  I remember as a small child thinking his wife was probably right to mock him for acting like a fool in public like that.  As I have grown my outlook on the story has changed, but this morning I believe part of its purpose came into full focus for me.  Here was David, the king of a chosen people.  What responsibilities and weights must have been on his shoulders?  He believed in the faithfulness of his God and yet he was human and prone to failure.  How could he lead a people without divine strength and guidance?  Without a sacred covenant to lend him wisdom and truth.

     I don't know how familiar you may be with the history but the Ark and Covenant was not just a sacred relic or symbol.  It contained the expectations and promises between a people and their God.  It had been lost to them because of their refusal to fulfill their end of the bargain.  Because of their short sighted disobedience of God's laws.  Now, after years of struggling without the fullness of His presence in their midst, the people had turned their hearts to Him and were being given in return the sacred promises of God's guidance and protection.  The covenant was being returned into their midst.

     While thinking on what the scene may have been like and the joy at the Lord's return to their midst, I saw with perfect clarity how overwhelmed David must have been.  The all encompassing need to praise His holy name and the complete lack of ability to properly do so in our lowly human form.  Every cell in his body must have been bursting at the seams to shout praises to God and all he could do to show his thankfulness and praise was to leap and dance and sing like a madman. Then the thought hit me, "Did I not have a small portion of such a miracle this very morning?"

     Sure enough...I was separated from my Savior by my attempts to withhold my heart from Him and He, in His mercy, showed me the way to tear down those walls and be allowed back into His full presence.  True, mine was not on such a large scale, but was it not the same process?  Well...what else could I do?

     I knelt down right there on the canal path and thanked the Lord.  I don't remember the specific words except that I asked Him to help me praise His name through my words and actions throughout the day.  That I would be worthy of His covenant with me.  Then I went a little David all up and down that canal.  I danced around for all I was worth spinning and singing and thanking the Lord for His patience with me.

     I would love to say that my lesson is learned and I will never again allow my own will to cloud my relationship with my Heavenly Father...but I know my failings too well to lie to you.  I am a willful creature by nature and I am sure I will have to fight that nature until my dying day, but I am thankful that when I do fight it I will forever have this testimony to remind me.  May God bless your day and give you great testimonies of His ever present care!     

On Hollywoodesque Reunions

We all know and have been told since we were children that Hollywood is not real.  (the movie side of it anyway) Those romantic fairy tales, magical reunions and happy endings....they are our idealized versions of real life.  Well, I have been a firm believer in that outlook....until this last Saturday afternoon when something magical and purely Hollywood happened to me.  I know what you cynics are thinking because until recently I have been one of you, but perfect moments do exist.  Let me share one of mine with you.

I have a dear family in Colorado who I love with all of my heart.  Even into the tiny nooks and cracks and crannies that are usually reserved for dust and cobwebs.  My love for them is so great it spills over into every available space inside me.  I call them my Hedrickites.  I love each of them dearly and individually for the incredible loving and God fearing people they are and I love none more than the other.  But the littlest Hedrick and I have always had a very close bond.  She is my Meah and she is the spunky, stubborn, loving, courageous and shy ray of sunlight I hope to be someday.  When I am feeling timid or unsure about stepping out into something new I think to myself, "Meah would be brave and try it." and I go for it. 

I have not seen my Hedrickites in nine loooooonnnng months and I have been feeling it like an ache somewhere inside me that cannot be comforted.  When I learned they would be camping at the ranch in Heber with us this last weekend I began counting down the days.  Three weeks then two weeks then five days then two days then TODAY!!!!  They got to the ranch on Friday night, but because of work I could not travel up until Saturday morning. 

I woke up aching to jump in the car and drive like the wind on an open plain.  Too bad packing had to be done.  Finally we were on the road and heading to the wilderness and closer to my Hedrickites and my Meah.  As we drove the too familiar road from Phoenix to Heber my memory started playing old reels of family trips up to camp.  My first trip camping with them when as we drove through the pines up the mountains listening to an Italian aria by Josh Groban little 5yr old Cody out of nowhere burst out with, "This is so beautiful...it's all so beautiful."  The time when Trav and I got to ride up the ranch road being towed in the Bronco by his dad while we pretended to race up the mountainside at breakneck speeds.  The first trip with Meah when she was still an infant and I spent an entire church service walking up and down the campsite with her as she cried in my arms....and the perfect moment when she relaxed and trusted me enough to fall asleep in my arms.

By the time we got into Payson (just about 30min or so from the ranch) my emotions became near overwhelming as I began to tear up at the thought of being so close to holding each of them in my arms.  It took all of my will power not to allow tears to flow freely down my face.  Instead I chided myself for being so weepy and stopped allowing myself to remember family trips. 

I don't know what kind of reunion I was expecting as I made the final turn into the ranch, but it was not the amazing reunion that occurred.

You know in those movies when people have been separated and as they see each other the world stops and they dramatically run toward each other yelling the other persons name until they collide into an embrace of perfect happiness?  Yep....that happened, no lie.  There were witnesses.

As my car came into view I spied my Meah playing on the hay wagon, her fiery red hair all glowing in the sunlight.  She looked up and as soon as she saw it was my car she began screaming my name and running toward the vehicle.  What else could I do? My car immediately went into park and I jumped out yelling her name and running to her across the small expanse of the meadow we were camping in.  I know there were others around us...I remember other human forms being there....but I cannot tell you who they were.  I only remember seeing my Meah in all of her grown up eight years leaping into my arms as we shared the best hug ever. 

You know, come to think of it.....it was way better than anything in a movie.  Movies can't come close to the perfect joy and love that exploded onto that field.  I challenge Hollywood to come up with anything that pure and happy and perfect.  Real life is so much better than movies.

Random Bursts of Happiness

I don't know what the thunder is going on with me today, but whatever it is it's a good thing.  I woke up this morning like any other and set about getting ready for work.  Somewhere on the road between home and work my heart began lifting up.  Maybe taking a cue from the clouds that slowly lifted back like a curtain opening the whole of the heavens to my view.  With every passing mile the day became more beautiful and pure unadulterated happiness began bubbling up out of me until it burst forth in random smiles and giggles.  I cannot explain why...there is no specific reason.  But today is a fantastically happy day.  I feel like I'm floating on the perfect rainbow that spanned the sky in my very honor. (okay maybe that last part is going a bit far....maybe.)