reawakening

So this week is game hunting week, or big game week, or something like that. Xan told us the theme had to do with that, game and hunting and such. So far this week we've had men come on two different nights to talk around that subject, Monday night and tonight; I can only imagine what tomorrow night and Saturday hold, although I hope I have an idea.

Both of these nights so far were great, in fact today was an amazing day overall, but I'll save both Monday night and a great adventure from this afternoon for another post because just tonight has enough weight of its own.

Well tonight three of our shooting guides came over for dinner. Actually one of them, Steve, we knew was a shooting guide and have been anticipating him coming over for probably a month and a half or so now, so it was great to finally have him over. All three though are amazing men with great stories, both about hunting as well as life in general, which they shared generously. They also generously shared their prizes: Steve, Mark, and Charles had brought various kinds of meat that they had killed. Tonight was the fullest we've ever seen our grill, though it has been put to great use before. There was all kinds of meat- wild turkey, elk, quail, pheasant, and chucker. They had been prepared various ways: a lime marinade, a wine and soy sauce marinade, bacon wrapped. And all of it was delicious. It was amazing, some of the best food we'd had all summer. In fact it might have to be the best overall because of the fact that the men who cooked and ate it with us were the ones who killed the animals. On taste alone the salmon steaks that Dean, a man that visited several weeks ago, brought from Alaska were probably a bit better, but they didnt have the overall story that this meat did.

Anyway, the guys cooked meat they had hunted while sharing stories from hunting trips, several about Charles' dog Chester ("the greatest dog in the world!", for those of you who have seen Disney's 'The Kid') then we gathered around a fire to hear more of the personal side of what hunting means to these guys and why they do it, etc. We also got to hold and pass around several s that they had brought to show us.

As the men told stories and talked to us about different things related to s and hunting and shooting, Xan asked the four of us what we were thinking or feeling about all of it. Though I didn't use this word at the time, I described feeling a sense of reawakening to a love and a passion for s and this type of thing. I've never hunted before, nor had much desire, but I have shot s a bit and had some exposure to it all, but never gotten nearly as much as I wanted. And over the years I've always been interested in the subject, watching everything I could on the history channel and just learning about s and shooting. In fact that was one thing that was evident tonight, a couple of times actually.

One example is that though I wanted to hold and see all the s they had brought, I stopped at a particular one once I had it in my hands and never let go of it the entire night. After one or two , I was handed a that I quickly recognized as a Winchester repeater. I was in awe. This is one of my favorite s, there is so much history involved with it. I held it up, looked down the barrel, ed the lever several times, marveled at how light it was and admired how powerful it is despite not seeming that long. I told Campbell it was one of the s that ruled the Old West and in fact that if it had come out a few years earlier it would have had a significant impact on historical events like the Civil War. I loved how it looked and how it felt in my hands. I never really dreamed I would hold one, but now all I could think was that I had to own one, or at least shoot one sometime.

For some time now shooting has been on my mind a lot and even the idea of getting back into it regularly as soon as I can. This desire has been deepened and more solidified with these men coming tonight and sharing about themselves, about shooting and hunting, and especially with inviting us into it, drawing us into that world. Tonight was amazing, and I can only imagine, and can't wait to see all the rest of the things God has for my heart in this area, and in others over the rest of the summer.

clarity

Ok so, for those that arent familiar with all the characters from my previous blog, I realized from someone that I might need to explain a couple things as some people might not know: Xan and Cory are our leaders, Xan's wife is Jayne, and Christine is Cory's wife. Xuxa is Christine and Cory's dog, her name is pronounced shoo-sha. Sorry for any confusion, I trust this is all clear as mud now.

happy birthday America

So yesterday was the 4th of July. One of my favorite holidays, rivaled only by Christmas, which really tops the list. Anyway, it was a great day. We had off work of course, which was nice. Slept til noon which we all needed, then at breakfast together- pancakes, eggs, bacon, koolaid. Hung out at the cabin together for a bit, all of us- the four of us as well as Xan, Cory, their wives, and the dog. Then we got some gear and all piled into the back of Josh's truck and went up to the reservoir trailhead. We walked up to the first reservior and when we saw several people already fishing there we decided to keep going to the second, which was a good decision. When we finally got up to the lake and the far end of the second reservoir, we dropped our stuff and got started. Several people got their rods out to start getting fishing. Several of us though were admiring some rocks nearby which were high up the mountain behind us.

Several comments were made that we needed to climb those, at some point anyway, but it wasnt five minutes before Dan started off to do so, and Jayne was walking up there with him. I had Xuxa on her leash and was letting her walk around a bit before fishing and we got close to where Jayne and Dan were climbing up when Jayne yelled down to me asking if I wanted to come. 'Why not?' I figured and called back that I did, and then ran with the dog to catch up to them. They were excited that I was there, and so was I. We climbed for a couple hours roundtrip. It was amazing- we didnt quite get to the rocks we had seen from below, but we did get to some other rocks that were great. The big rocks we got to me and Dan got up ok but Jayne had some trouble because of her shoes. So Dan and I worked together to get her up- I layed down on the rock and braced myself with my legs while he held one of my hands and stood back, then I held out my other hand down to Jayne for her to grab on and come up. It felt pretty good, if I hadnt been there she probably wouldnt have been able to get up there. So we could see down on the others, but they couldnt see us that well. In fact, we saw them from the high point on the rock but I wanted to get onto an even higher bigger one behind it. So I got down and got between the two, finding tight but manageable places to wedge myself up and around. I even used several branches or fallen trees to pull myself up on. I finally got up and when I had good footing ran to the top of the rock and yelled down to the others again. When we had had our fill of the view and the rocks, we started back down.

So Xuxa had been ready to go back down for a while. She pretty much dragged me down the mountain, even though it was kinda steep in some places. And we actually got a bit off course going down; we were too far to the left and when we eventually got back to the road we were maybe a couple hundred yards back from the lake and the place we had started. But we got back ok to the others, and Xuxa was excited to see Christine. I didnt fish at all because we were leaving soon after we got back, but that was fine because the climb was so much fun as was the last thing I did before leaving.

Josh and I got our shirts and shoes off, climbed some rocks over the water, got to the top and leapt off into the water! It was so much fun, and the water wasnt nearly as cold as I expected. We climbed up, yelled Happy Birthday America, and jumped out into the lake. I jumped twice and Josh went three times- I wouldve gone again but it started thundering quite a bit just as I was going my second time. In fact I scraped my back on a rock as I was swimming to shore, just a scrape so not much blood, but more than I had before so it was nice. By the time we got dressed and found our shoes though, everyone had left Josh and I, so we pretty much jogged down the mountain. Dan waited for us part way though, so that was nice.

Anyway, we all got back to the cabin and grilled some great food, afterwhich we went down to town to see some of the festival and what was going on. Had a good time, walked around and came back after not too long. We watched the fireworks from the roof, which was great, they're supposed to be some of the best around. After Xan, Jayne, Cory, and Christine left, the four of us just chilled and watched Independence Day, a great 4th of July movie. It was an amazing day, lots of fun all around. In fact, it wasnt just yesterday, it was times around it too. Tuesday afternoon we got off early from work, then that night the four of us went out to a $1.50 movie theater we'd found. It was Tuesday so it was actually only 75 cents, but the best part is that we saw 300, my favorite movie which I've seen twice already. So we saw that awesome movie, had a great day yesterday, then this morning Campbell and I didnt have to work because our boss said he couldnt get in touch with any of our job sites, so to just have a good day. An amazing Independence Day, with a couple great days around it. Yeah. Sweet.

God's Own Country: Kerala West

We got back last Sunday afternoon from a long weekend fishing trip. We left Wednesday night, fished all day Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, and a few hours this morning before driving back today. We in Estes Park, at the cabin of one of our guides, Ron. From the driveway we could see Long’s Peak, one of Colorado’s fourteeners (a peak at least 14 thousand feet high). Ron, by the way, has climbed Longs Peak- more than once. In fact he has climbed all but 9 of Colorado’s 54 fourteeners. The man is amazing.

There’s several things I could, and probably will, talk about this trip, but right now the context I want to focus on is just the amazing beauty of this place. I’ve seen natural wonders like it a few times in my life. As a kid we took a few vacations to some places like the Grand Canyon and the Teton Mountain range. Those were spectacular too, but I think I am able to more fully appreciate the beauty of those trips now more than when I was younger.

I’ve also seen some other great places in the world. Two years ago I went to South Africa and Swaziland, then a few months ago I went to India. All of those were amazingly beautiful- mountains all around, yawning savannahs and grasslands, lush forests amidst a rocky peak. The place I spent the most time in India was the southern state, called Kerala. It is much more developed than many other parts of the country, but has a large amount of tourism to the many areas of natural beauty that it has. In fact, Kerala has so much natural beauty of so many kinds that it is called “God’s Own Country”. It is the state motto and on all the tourism literature and such. More on this in a bit…

So we fished just off the road in a river near the cabin several days but on Saturday we drove up to Dream Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park. From the parking lot we had to hike several miles up a trail on the mountain to get to the lake. The trail continued on to get to other lakes as well and see more of the park. But we stopped at the lake, unpacked our gear, and proceeded to fish it for probably about five hours or more, although it felt like maybe 45 minutes or so. I fished mostly with Ron and Campbell on the far side of the lake, out on some rocks 20 yards or so into the water. Several times throughout the day I would stop and look, or Campbell would point out to me the amazing view all around us. Beautiful mountains high above us to one side, even though we were at over 10,000 feet, some more mountains in the distance in the other direction, it was amazing. He and I also stopped a few times on the hike up to admire and take pictures of the view from the trail. The water itself was a stunning clear greenish color. I only caught one fish that day, the least of any of the full days we fished, but I didn’t mind at all because of where we were. It was an experience beyond words to even be in that place, in that water, surrounded by that beauty as well as the company I was with.

We’ve noticed it some other times too just around Colorado Springs. We live on the side of a mountain. Every day going to work we see Pikes Peak and other mountains in that range. A guy once told us early on that if we’re ever having a bad day at work or anything, just turn around and look at that and pointed to Pikes Peak. Shortly after that I told Campbell about seeing similar things in Africa and India, and about Kerala- God’s own country. This place, Colorado, I told him seems to me like Kerala West, it is just as beautiful in so many ways as any place I’ve ever seen. I suppose it is no coincidence that so many Christian ministries and organizations are based in Colorado Springs. God is here, there is something about so much nature and beauty that make Him easier to see and feel in everything. I can’t imagine any better place. The Indian state may have the official title, but this place truly is God’s Own Country.

infinity

I have hardly fished at all before this summer. The few vague memories I have of fishing, I’m sure I didn’t catch anything, I barely knew what I was doing. Ok, so I really had no idea what I was doing. But this summer we’ve got not one or even two, but three fly fishing guides teaching us not only the basics but also the intricacies of fly fishing. Three different men, each in a different decade of life in fact, showing us about this magnificent sport and what it means to them.

They came over to the cabin a few times just to teach- the first time Ron put on his gear and strated, Tim shared some excellent cigars with us, and they both shared a bit of their story of who they are and what fly fishing is to them, as well as some of the technicals of equipment and such. Then another time they both came again and this time Andy came as well; Andy is a First Lieutenant in the Air Force, a graduate of the Academy here in the Springs, and the youngest of the guides but since he grew up in Wyoming fly fishing has pretty much been in all his life. In fact he said he grew up playing in the Medicine Bow area; for those who don’t remember or didn’t read, Medicine Bow Peak is the summit we climbed our first week out here when we went for a 6 day backpacking trek in Wyoming. So Andy came with them and they all taught us more about fishing. Now, at this point, we’ve learned a lot but still haven’t been near water ourselves, nor have we touched any of the amazing brand new equipment and gear that is waiting for us downstairs for just this purpose.

Well, finally the day came, the week before this past Saturday the nine of us went to 11 Mile Canyon and had our first day of fly fishing, on the South Platte River. It was an amazing day. God did things for all of us that day, through the teaching, the time together, and of course catching fish! Which we all did by the way- all four of us caught at least one fish. Xan and Cory caught some too of course, as well as the guides (except Tim, who didn’t really fish himself much), but for me, Dan, Josh, and Campbell, it was our first time out and we each got at least one, and that felt awesome for us.

I said Tim didn’t fish much himself and that was because he was teaching and helping me most of the day. He was determined to get me some fish! Actually he seemed really upset and feeling bad when he was taking me to spots or having me fish a certain area and I was getting nothing. The deep interest he seemed to have in me catching some felt great, as did the fact that he said I wasn’t doing anything wrong, that my form and technique were good, I was having good casts and good drifts, so it wasn’t me. That’s one lesson I learned that day: sometimes they just don’t bite; it may not be anything you’re doing wrong, sometimes they just don’t bite (think about that for a minute, I’ll leave it to you to find the application for your life, but trust me it’s there). Anyway, we’d been fishing together for a few hours and finally I saw the indicator go under the water a bit, yanked on it to set the hook and immediately felt the tension at the end of the line. I could see the fish fighting and flailing around under the water! So I pulled up and started reeling in the line. Tim helped me out and got the net off my back to get the fish and I called Xan over to see it. We got some pretty sweet pictures of me, Tim, and the fish.

It felt so good catching that fish. That one was actually my second; the first was when Tim first started helping me but really felt like a fluke because I didn’t even know it was on the line. It hadn’t felt like I had really fished it and caught it as much as it had just eaten my fly and not spit it out. It had really just put itself on my hook is what it basically felt like. But with this second one is was just the opposite. I felt like I really knew what I was doing, had a real expert guiding me and showing me the way. I cast it well, let it drift, saw it bite, then hooked and reeled it in. It was mine, something I had accomplished and could be proud of. And I certainly was.

Later that week we got some more chances to go fishing. Campbell and I didn’t have to work Tuesday because our boss said the weather was bad and to just enjoy the day. So Xan told us to go ahead, relax or have fun or whatever. There was something we both needed to do, but once we had done that Campbell and I both geared up and got on our mountain bikes and made our way up to the reservoir for the town. It was so much fun just setting out, biking up there and then fishing together. He caught two that day and I caught one. The next day, after work, all four of us left on the bikes to go fish. This time Dan and Josh stayed at the first reservoir and Campbell and I went further on to the second which is much larger. The water was freezing but it was so much fun. This time I was the only one to catch a fish! We literally fished until the sun set, then rode back down the mountain by the light of his head lamp. In hindsight maybe this wasn’t the safest thing, but then when does the heart of a man desire that which is safe? It was fun, and beautiful, and made us feel so alive.

And now tonight we are getting another shot at the fish. We all leave tonight to go up to Rocky Mountain National for a weekend fishing trip at Estes Park. Sister Therese told us tonight that Thursday is the solstice, the first day of summer and therefore the longest amount of daylight of the year. No coincidence I think that the day with the most light is our first day out there to just fish all day. Then Friday and Saturday, with nowhere to go, nowhere to be and nothing to do but face off against the fish. We go to work today excited for we know that when we get off, what awaits us is a company of men and a river of fish.

I’m sure by now somebody is wondering about the title. I believe it was Ron who, on one of those first nights of instruction, said that the world of fly fishing was like infinity. Like God, and like life, you can never truly know everything there is to know about the subject. And total mastery is not the point of it. All you need are the basics as far as knowledge and some decent equipment and you can step into this limitless river of learning and experience so much of who God is. It isn’t about catching the biggest fish, or catching the most fish, it’s just about fishing, about experiencing it and finding out about who God is and who you are. I’m sure this won’t make sense to some people, maybe many people, how swinging a stick and a little bug into water can teach a person anything, much less about who God is or about their life. And perhaps it’s better that way, perhaps this is not a lesson that can simply be conveyed through words, but rather must be experienced, for I know that is how I have learned it. One of our guides said that he most sees Jesus when he is fly fishing. And I can understand what he means, because when I step into this infinite world I feel not overwhelmed or intimidated by it’s magnificence and size, but rather I am awed that I can touch eternity- touch God, and even my own heart, through this activity at which I needn’t be the best, needn’t understand everything, I don’t even have to do anything. All I need to do is to just come and be, just experience and feel, and then know. And then I am part of infinity.

real men: living from the heart

Ok, well tonight was awesome, as usual. Not having to cook dinner because Cory took care of it was only the first of many great things this evening. They're not kidding when they tell us that we're gonna love what we're doing on a particular night, or who's coming over or something. Of course they never tell us who or what is going on until about 10 minutes before, but that's another issue...

Anyway, Claude and Dave came over for dinner tonight. Dave is a missionary to Kazakhstan and Claude is a cop with a SWAT unit. We ate together then sat around a fire hearing police stories and smoking cigars. Then Claude shared a bit of his story, his background and how he got into police work and some of the things it means for his heart. We'll see them again when they take us , but tonight it was great to have these men just sit and pour into us. Claude even shared that he had earlier felt like he had nothing to offer us and we said that them just being there and offering themselves was more than we could express.

Through some of Claude's statements and stories I did get a bit of direction and help with some things I've had on my heart lately, but really the biggest thing for me, maybe for all of us, tonight was just the honesty and the reality of these men. Actually that aspect of all the men we've had around us, starting with Xan and Cory, but also John, the one who feels like a grandfather to us, as well as Tim and Ron and Andy, our fly fishing guides, then Sam, a counselor that spoke to us a few nights, PJ and Brian, some guys that have some great backgrounds and stories with finance and business. All of these people are just 'real men', with the emphasis more on the word real. They all certainly are men, very much men that all four of us respect a great deal as men, but what I'm getting at right now is just the honesty and straightfowardness of their hearts and lives. There's no b.s. with these guys (can I say b.s.?). And that's my point- we don't have to wonder 'can I say that?' with any of these guys, there's no need to pose or put up a front with any of them because it's clear that they don't do that.

My point is that when I flew out here and Xan and Cory picked me up from the airport, within about 15 minutes of riding and talking with them, and hearing them talking back and forth, I was just thinking, 'thank God, finally, some real people'. God, like life is more organic than to be confined to rules and formulas.

Believe it or not, my main point about these guys being honest and real wasn't so much about all that. A theme came out of some things they said that was basically a reminder that life and living from your heart as a man is so much more about the journey and it being a process. They shared that they are not 'there', that they still struggle themselves sometimes with being real and living free and that it's just all about the journey. That was encouraging and so intimate. These guys all being so real is about so much more than the two things I just spent two and a half paragraphs on; it's about not posing anymore. It's about not pretending to have the answers or know it all or have it all figured out yet but sharing with one another in the journey and just loving one another. It's about being vulnerable, with each other, with ourselves, with God, and undertanding the Father's heart toward us, knowing that it is good.

Wow, way deeper than I intended to go on this blog, really just meant to talk about how cool it was to have a SWAT officer and a missionary over. But that's ok. So yeah, Claude brought out a bunch of toys and passed them around the fire: flashbangs and various types of s, different kinds of non-lethal rounds, a couple magazines for his M-16 with for different occasions, his shotgun, his weapon (I forget the name) which looks like a launcher and shoots non-lethal foam pellets. And a few more things I won't mention, for various reasons ;)

So yeah, it was just awesome to sit with these men, all the cool toys and equipment aside, and just hear their stories, get a feel for who they are, and just be present with them in those moments. It makes me, makes all four of us I think, realize and see more and more how blessed we are to be here but also how much people have really been thinking and doing and preparing for us to be here. Getting all kinds of stuff ready and planning things out, just for us. The depth and reality of that, of what all that means and what God is speaking to me heart in that, it's amazing, still sinking in really, still learning what it all means...

A life for a life

I want to first thank my friend Adam Paulson for allowing me to honor him and share this story- his story really, his half of our story, and part of the context for my story.

In my previous post I mentioned a few times that the story was not complete and alluded to another story to give that one a deeper richness and fullness. This is now that story.

Adam if you remember was one of our guides on our week in the mountains of Wyoming. He and Aaron, the other guide, had been backpacking and leading trips like ours for years, though this was their first together. I don’t think I mentioned this before, but something I loved seeing on the trail was the way the two of them led together, as a team. Aaron was generally out in front, leading the way and often packing down the snow, while Adam brought up the rear, making sure everyone was doing ok. Aaron, however, several times asked Adam his opinion on the trail ahead, if it was safe to go a certain way, if the ice would hold over a particular stream, this kind of thing. He would answer and either we would go on, or go a different way, or maybe the two of them would check it out first to see if it was good. By Aaron’s humility and the times he would defer to Adam’s judgment, it seemed that Adam was the more experienced, or at least more of the leader, but even in that he never lorded it, never tried to put himself over anyone else. He was always confident and assured, yet humble about it all.

So on the day of the summit climb, as I previously wrote, is when Adam and I became close. We had reached the top and started back down to a certain place to have breakfast. One of the last areas before the summit was mostly just climbing over rocks, many of them quite large and it was fairly steep, so while going up was exhausting, coming down was just treacherous because not only was I more tired, it was also harder to keep my balance. Going up you basically lean forward and use gravity to help you balance and get up. But on the way down gravity is working against you as you have to carefully place each step and almost lean backward so as not to fall too far forward and go tumbling down the rocks. Anyway, this was the beginning of the end for me that day as it was the last time I really had much strength left at all. To say I was tired and out of breath is such a horribly weak description because I might say that after a two mile run with ROTC or even just after playing some soccer for a while. On this day I had been hiking for nearly six hours, almost nonstop, in the snow and over rocks, all up a mountain, so tired and out of breath just don’t even come close.

So besides being cautious coming down the rocks, I had to stop every so often to try to catch my breath a bit.

Now, all morning I had been pushed- I pushed myself, Xan and Cory pushed me, just about everyone had been encouraging me on. Adam had supported me also all along, but now coming down the rocks it was just he and I as everyone else was far ahead, and he kept me going. Actually, by this time he was pushing me too because we were way behind and had to catch up. After I had stopped several times he finally said I really needed to just keep going, no more breaks until we caught up to the rest. By that point almost everyone else was at the area we had decided upon to stop at for breakfast.

So I didn’t. I kept moving, kept climbing even if slowly at times, and didn’t stop again until I reached them all. The rest for breakfast was all too short, even if it was great to finally get something to eat. We started moving again and the energy I had regained quickly drained back out of my legs and lungs, but I kept pressing.

Before too long we came to a large snowfield.

By this time it was somewhere around 9:30 or 10 in the morning, so the sun had been up for a w

hile and had had time to melt a bit of the snow. Our hikes were almost always a race against the sun. The heat would melt some of the snow, which meant softer snow, which meant deeper and more frequent holes for us to fall into with every step. This large snowfield was a perfect example of what late morning sun meant to us. The snow was deep and the field long, even the lightest among us was falling in. Xan, lean and light, quickly gained the nickname of Legolas because he seemed to float on top of the snow and rarely ever fell in (if you don’t know what I’m talking about go back and watch the first Lord of the Rings movie). But in this field even Legolas could not keep from sinking into the postholes. So naturally I had slow going, even stepping in others’ footsteps I went deeper than they had. Soon the steps were so difficult to get out of one hole, only to drop into another. Campbell came up with the idea of rolling across the snow, to spread out the weight and keep from falling in. Actually that worked fairly well- Cory and Josh rolled quite well without much more difficulty. I figured it couldn’t be any worse than the trudging, so I got down and rolled too, and I only sank in once more after that, but each roll was slow and harder than the last and I was quickly running out of both breath and strength.

Somehow I made it to a nearby island of rocks, honestly I don’t know how because I couldn’t roll the whole way and when I tried to step again I continued to fall into the snow. Anyway, I got to the rocks, climbed about fifteen feet into the island and again just collapsed onto one of them. I didn’t want to hold the group up anymore, and honestly was a little worried of what Adam would say, but none of that was able to keep me going anymore, I just gave out as I sat on that rock. When he came over, as everyone else was again pretty far ahead by now, I told him between breaths that I couldn’t go on, I had to stop for a minute and that my chest hurt.

His response surprised me, but was just the opposite of what I expected. He wasn’t at all saying anything about keeping going or having to get moving. He just asked what was wrong and what hurt. He calmed me down, got my breathing steady again, and gave me some water. After I’d rested a few minutes we left again. The rest of the group went on ahead to get back to camp while Adam and I just took a slow steady pace the rest of the way to get back. He made sure I stopped every so often to rest a bit and catch my breath, or to drink some water.

We spent the next couple hours walking back and just talking together, getting to know each other- learning where each was from, our favorite kinds of beer, the fact that we’d both worked at Chili’s, all kinds of stuff. Through all that though he was always checking to make sure I was doing ok, that my breathing was good and that I stopped to rest when I needed to. We finally got back to camp and I sat down in one of the chairs and just rested.

After a little while more when my breathing was a bit more normal still, Adam gave me the ok to get in the tent and just go to sleep, the thing I had wanted since we got back to camp. Even then though, he would come and check every so often, look in the tent and ask how I was doing, make sure my breathing was getting better, all that. That’s basically how it was between us the rest of the trip, he was always looking after me, making sure I was alright. The next day, Friday, he divided up most of the gear from my backpack between himself and everyone else to make it lighter on me. In fact, on two separate days Adam took the nearly empty pack from me and carried it himself on top of his own.

So Friday, toward the end of the day, the choice was given to Campbell, Josh, Dan, and I of whether to camp at a spot we were at and had lunch or to keep going for another hour or so to find another suitable location. We all agreed to keep going, and a bit later we made camp at a site that the four of us scouted and picked out. That night around the fire Adam shared more of his background and his story.

Two years ago, on the morning of July 4th, 2005, Adam Paulson endured what he called one of the worst things that can happen for a guide of trips like this. He was taking a group on a similar trip and it was their last day. In fact that morning they were on their way back to the vans to be picked up. A young backpacker of the group named Nathan Bell had been having a bit of trouble, or just seemed a little off, that morning. He was going a little slow and getting a bit behind at times. Once he went to the bathroom and came back and his fly was down and when Adam pointed it out Nate acknowledged and fixed it but just seemed very absent-minded and only about half there.

Adam told us that he had said some of the same things to me that he said to Nathan that day, that I needed to keep going, couldn’t be stopping or taking breaks, this kind of thing. Nate seemed to be getting worse as they traveled and eventually looked like he was going to fall over so Adam came over to catch him and when he collapsed into Adam’s arms his eyes had started to gloss over. Adam asked what was wrong and what was going on with him, and all Nate could say was that he felt like he was dying. When he passed out, falling out of the guide’s arms and onto the ground, Adam started doing CPR on the unconscious backpacker. He continued making attempts to revive him until quite some time later, when paramedics arrived and told him just to stop because it was useless at that point. It had been more than an hour since he first collapsed. Two years ago, on the morning of July 4th, 2005, Nathan Bell died coming down a mountain at the end of a backpacking trip.

Despite paramedics and others telling Adam this was not his fault and there was nothing he could have done, he still felt guilt and shame. He told us that the altitude sickness and illnesses which has killed Nathan should not have done so, that rarely are they . He struggled with all this for a long time. In fact he swore never to lead a group on a trip again. Self-doubt, shame, and confusion were just a few of the many feelings and voices Adam had to deal with over the past few years.

When we all climbed the summit, we were given a rock, a stone which represented all of our shame, our past, the lies and hurt we had lived under so long. Adam shared that this experience was the stone he carried to the top, just as it has for so long been the burden he has carried through life. So he took it up there and left it there and allowed God to begin to heal and restore him in those places in his heart. What was interesting is that, though he didn’t know it, God was about to bring him right back into a very similar situation and show him that he can do it and let him experience the Father’s love and pride for him. It wasn’t even two hours after putting down that burden that he was once again faced with a similar prospect and a person he was leading needing him. He told us about the fear, self-doubt, and memories he was feeling when I collapsed on that rock; I responded that I didn’t sense any of that at the time but only saw a strong confident man that took care of me and got me safely down the mountain.

Thursday, the day of the summit, was an amazing day, it started early and it was long, full of many things both external and internal. But hearing Adam’s story Friday night gave our experience together so much more depth and showed another aspect of what God was up to that day. Yes, there was much development and initiation for my heart that day, but in the same trial there was healing and even redemption for Adam in the opportunity to keep me safe and prevent anything bad from happening, it was almost like another chance for him. There was so much there that God wanted to do that day for each of us and that neither of us was really expecting.

It felt so right then that after he shared his story and I shared my reaction to it and the previous day’s events that Xan asked Adam to bless me and give me my new name. I felt so grateful to Adam for all he had done for me, and felt such a connection with him, especially after hearing more of his story, that the idea felt appropriate. The moment felt sacred, to sit around the fire and look back over the past few days, and even longer, and be able to see the way God had orchestrated and brought things together to create this perfect moment for this thing to happen. So the guys gathered around me, they all put their hands on me while Adam prayed over and blessed me, and gave me my new name, his own name even. And with it, my new life.
And that’s what I told him when I held him close afterward- that he had saved my life and given me my new one, and that we were now forever bonded. My story is not just about me, and Paulson learned that his story was no longer about a life that was lost, but now it was about a life that was gained, a life that was re-born and even that he had a part in starting.

Adam, my friend, thank you and once again- you saved my life, and have given me my new one.

Jonathan's struggle

The title tonight is an homage to how Xan described a memory, a story of my experience last week and what God did for me. The story tonight will be incomplete, for several reasons, but basically mine is only a part of this story, and I eagerly await the time when I can share the other part of it.

I've thought a lot about what to write for this second post. The obvious thing sequentially is our backpacking trip to Wyoming, but my thoughts as well as the advice of most around me keeps coming back to one thing in particular. Not suprisingly though as this was the biggest event for me on that trip.

Well, so we get here to CO and meet for the first time on Monday; Tuesday morning we get up, meet our guides, and pack a few things to go backpacking in the mountains and snow of Wyoming for 6 days. We drove several hours to get to Laramie and got to a ridge of mountains called Snowy Range, a fitting name as probably anywhere from 75-90 percent of the 32 miles or so that we hiked was all snow.

Our beds, our meals, our clothes, and anything else we needed for the week was all on our backs. From Tuesday late afternoon to Sunday early afternoon we hiked, camped, talked, and bonded. I almost hate to use that word because of its nearly cliched nature, but that is the truth of it. It was four of us guys, plus Xan and Cory our leaders, and then two guides from RMR: Adam and Aaron. The four of us: me, Dan, Josh, and Campbell were all certainly brought closer over the week; our group that meshed well from the first day quickly became truly a band of brothers by the end of the week. But all eight of us really got to know each other and form relationships that will last for some time, even for lifetimes.

One of those relationships in particular is a big part of my experience on that mountain. Adam, our guide, and I became very close. Simply 'bonded' does not nearly do it justice. Something I said to him was that he and I were now 'forever bonded', eternally linked, our stories now permanently intertwined. But more on that later.

This is where some explanation comes for those of the readers that knew me before this summer. All that have met me recently know me as Adam (which is actually my middle name), but before the past two weeks everyone knew me only as Jonathan, my first name. I have gotten the sense for quite some time now (about 6-8 months or so) that one thing God had for me this summer was an experience of receiving my new name; of starting to go by my middle name, or my first initial and middle name, as my own dad does. John talks in Way of the Wild Heart about the new name experience for a man but moreover it can be seen many times in the lives of many Biblical characters, most notably (for me anyway) Jacob.

I had told Xan about it and we talked a few times on the phone before I got here, trying to figure out what it would look like, how it would take place over the course of the summer. But one thing I love about God is that no matter what plans we make, He always knows best and has the best in mind. This case was no different. I won’t bother with all the discussion or what I had ‘decided’ but simply say that God had in mind for the new name to begin that week for me.

The other three guys had started calling me Adam from the first night in the cabin, and basically for the first few days it was pretty transitional, people going back forth between Jonathan and Adam, Xan and Cory actually rarely calling me Adam. Actually, though I know it was part of the process, I told them all later that in the beginning there it felt fake, not quite right being called that at that time. But I’m getting ahead.

We hiked Tuesday and Wednesday through the snow, and I think all along I had the toughest go of it, many of my steps sinking into the snow and basically ‘postholing’ along much of the way. Wednesday night the guides told us about the next day- a rare thing actually as even still the four of us are usually kept in the dark about most of what is ever going on. Anyway, they told us the next day would be a ‘fun’ day, that we would not be taking packs but would be hiking to the top of a particular mountain, in fact not one we could see, one that was out of view but was bigger than what we could see. But this meant being up early and it being dark for a long time after leaving camp. We were all excited though.

So they weren’t kidding, it was dark for probably 2 or 3 hours after we left camp and we still had a couple hours before reaching the summit. That entire day was difficult. It was probably my own most difficult day but equally probable is that that day gave me a greater challenge than it gave anyone else. It was of course snow most of the way, but also sinking steps and postholes were common. I was at the front of the line, right behind Aaron, an awesome guide. This guy was an absolute trailblazer.

However, there was one stretch near the beginning, probably less than an hour into the day, where he was pounding down the holes of the steps and the real challenges started for me. The snow became firmer and Aaron was able to step up onto the snow and go about 15-20 feet or so without falling in. I, however, got up where he had stood firm and promptly sank right down. Another step up onto the snow and just as quickly I was back down in it. By the third step I knew what was coming. This entire stretch he had made on top of the snow but it would not support me. I started to trudge through, simply pushing the steps down, not expecting them to hold. I was feeling the oppression against me, and starting to fight. And then…

I didn’t notice Xan walk up the snow to be beside me. I just heard his voice. I felt his words deep inside me. “You can quit you know. You can just give this up and go home. Go ahead, just go on back to camp, back home where it’s safe, you can just watch movies, eat pizza and drink Pepsi. You don’t have to do this. You can quit now.” The tears burned my face like the fire burning in my chest. Hell no. I couldn’t quit. Not now, certainly not now. I quit now and all is lost. His words were not new; I had heard them before, many like them and many worse, from an enemy that truly meant them. All of the fire, the hate, the rage that boiled inside me like a steaming cauldron was not in any way directed at Xan, because I knew immediately his words were not his own, but rather directly by the Holy Spirit. A reminder of what lay ahead, of the opposition that faced me in my journey. God allowed Xan to articulate, for me and for everyone else to hear, all the words, the lies, the messages that the devil had already been whispering not only that morning but for years. And it worked.

I now saw clearly that this journey, that this trek up a mountain summit as well as all that it represented, would not go unchallenged. And all the anger for that fight, all the hatred I had for everything that adversary had stolen from me and done to me over the years seethed inside until it exploded out. Out of my face, my words, my body. “I can’t.” Was my short reply to Xan’s taunts. “Sure you can”, came back the quick, cold, and calm retort. He didn’t understand. “NO, I cannot quit, not now, I will not quit, you will not deter me!” And I set my face like a flint. With fury driving me I lifted each leg, step after step, out of the snow and pounded it down into the soft ice like a piston, driving it down to make the step secure and firm but also to firmly drive down a message. A message to myself, to that enemy, and to everyone around me: nothing will stop me here.

With that fire inside burning now more powerfully than any steam engine I made quick work of the distance between Aaron and myself, and went after the rest of the mountain with the same determination. Let me be clear however: I became exhausted. I certainly wasn’t running and jumping up the rocks. It’s just that I didn’t quit, I didn’t give up, even when all the pain in my body screamed for me to do just that.

I realized at least some of what making the summit of that mountain meant. I wasn’t just climbing a big rock. I was in search of my heart. My survival was on the line, the very existence of my soul, my deep heart as a man hanging in the balance. All could be lost, or all could be won, and only I could win or lose it.

So back for a moment to the name issue. Throughout the Bible we see the significance of the meaning of a person’s name. It is basically prophetic in most cases, almost like they were named after they had lived, the life so closely matched the meaning of the name. And knowing God had a name change in store for me was tied to the meaning of my names, both of which I have known for a long time. Jonathan means gift of God. Adam means man of the earth, or man of the red earth, or red man of the earth, this kind of thing. One relating much more to blessings and to being blessed. The other much more to work, toil and hard work, blood sweat and tears. And though the one is great and is what I have had all my life, I knew how badly I wanted and how desperately I needed the other. One of the first things Xan and Cory asked us to think and journal about was two questions: what are you leaving? and what is God calling you into? And two of my answers were that I was leaving Jonathan and coming into Adam; leaving the very blessed but somewhat easy life I had led and being called into an understanding of work and of working hard and toiling. I had shared all this with the others so everyone knew, as I did, the context that these names gave to this struggle for identity.

I knew instinctively as I climbed that I was fighting for my identity, for my new name. Probably a half mile or so from the top we stopped and Xan reminded us all of the story of Jacob and his struggle with God and what it meant. I was so exhausted in so many ways that I didn’t hear all that he said, but he got my mind onto the story, and God spoke. God opened my eyes and mind to a new thought. Maybe the enemy isn’t the only one throwing postholes in my path. Maybe the opposition isn’t all coming from one who wants me to fail. But rather, God is giving me some of the obstacles, for a couple reasons. One is that He believes in me, He knows I can do it and wants to show that to me. But another is more related to Jacob. Jacob wrestled with God, wanted to know the name of the angel, and in the end said he would not let go until God blessed him. God was asking me, “How much do you want this? What does this mean to you? What are you really willing to do for this?” And again the tears flowed as the hate and raged subsided and gave way to something greater. I was no longer fighting an enemy as much as striving for a friend, for my Father even. This was beyond the battle with one who wanted me to fail. This was now about succeeding for myself and for one who believed I could, and wanted me to achieve this and other great things. But God was telling me it would come at no small price. That if I really wanted it and it really meant something that it would be difficult, even costly.

And so I pushed on. The questions of what this meant for me and how much I wanted it reverberated in my soul as I climbed the rest of the way, and I would often answer back, sometimes aloud, that I would “not let you go until you bless me”. Finally, just before the summit, Xan and Cory stopped us and, starting with me they spoke to us and sent us up the last 50 or 100 yards uphill to the summit. They handed me a good sized stone and said that it represented all my shame, all the lies and messages I had lived under for so long, all the things that kept me from my heart and from living free, the things I had falsely believed about myself and my identity. I took it, held it with both hands and set off.

And with that first step into the snow from the rocks we were on, I immediately sank knee deep into the snow. This was no surprise because if the entire journey was difficult then why would then end, the most important part, be any less? Just as quickly as my feet went into the snow, however, I ripped them up and onto the next step. I trudged, step by step up the arduous incline. About two thirds of the way I plummeted yet again into the snow, this time both legs together and closer to waist deep. I cursed the rock and tossed it with contempt ahead of me in the snow and used my hands to free myself from the ice. Getting back to my feet I took up my burden and kept going. I got to the top where Josh and Campbell awaited though they had both left after me, as well as Aaron who had gone on ahead to lead the way.

I got to the top and stumbled my way to the monument where a stick and other stones signified the actual summit. Nearing the mound I threw my rock down onto the others and collapsed exhausted onto the stick. I all but fell to a seat next to Josh and wept, the tears flowing to release so much.

Tired body and soul I sat and cried until strength enough returned to shed my jackets and I stood in just my shorts and tshirt, arms outstretched like the scene from The Shawshank Redemption, free. Finally free. I looked around, looked up to the sky, and just felt the wind on my face, liberated, free from the burden I had so long carried. The feelings (for all of us up there) were all so deep, profound, and personal that I won’t tarnish them with too many words or attempts at description. I’ll just say that God did a lot of healing and loving on us up on that peak at 12,900 feet. We all took some pictures, and shared some words and moments up there before heading back down.

The rest of that day is really part of another story which, though integral to my own, I will wait to tell here for several reasons. I will, therefore, summarize it here and leave the details and deeper things for the hope of a day soon when that story, that part of my own story really, will be shared. I was more than exhausted before we even reached the summit, but the top drained me spiritually and emotionally as well. I was barely stumbling down when mountain when we started back. We stopped for breakfast before too long, though to me it was long and difficult getting even there. And yes, this was really the first we had eaten all morning- it was somewhere around 10 or 11 am and we had started between 2 and 3 that morning. Anyway, not long after breakfast and probably only about an hour and a half after the summit, we reached a long patch of deep and soft snow, basically we were all falling in, every step, even the lightest guys that rarely fell in before. Even walking in other footsteps I was still going in deeper and could hardly take it.

Somehow I managed to make it to the nearest island of rocks and dry ground though the entire group except Adam, one of the guides, was way ahead already. He had stayed behind to wait for me and keep me going, but when I got to those rocks I just collapsed. I was not only exhausted I was out of breath and told him as much (between my shallow gasps for air). I was panicking and hyperventilating but he got me calmed down, breathing better, and rested a bit, and got me down the mountain safely. All that is too short a summary for the second half of that day but like I said it is part of another story which I hope to tell soon.

The next night, Friday night, around the campfire Adam shared a bit of his past and his story, after which I thanked him again for all the he had done for me in getting me back down the mountain safely the day before. Xan said then that after all that he and the others had seen me do and go through the day before that it felt right, it felt like the appropriate time for me to receive that new name, and also right because of our experiences together for Adam our guide to bestow it upon me. I wept as Adam prayed over me and blessed me and gave me my new name and as each guy of our group came and hugged me, speaking words of love and affirmation in this new identity. Those that still quickly and deeply move me are Cory’s when he came up and held me tight, and repeated several times, “It is right to call you Adam. It is right now to call you Adam.” I was now the man of the earth, and certainly red in some places, my face and legs in particular. In fact those parts of my legs are still a bit sunburned.

Everyone later said that they saw a difference in me, even that night immediately after praying over me, a distinct difference in my countenance and the way I carried myself. I felt it too, and that night even; Campbell had set a trap for a fox and was sleeping outside to be ready if it got caught, so I took it upon myself to get lots of firewood from up the hill to keep the fire going for him and try to keep him warm as long as possible until the fox came. I wasn’t tired even though it was late and just kept hauling wood, and watching the fire, and looking at the stars, taking in the world and this newness. I slept outside that night too. The feeling didn’t go away though. That night, the next day, and the next, and the next, just like they had prayed, “Adam” was sealed on my heart, it was everywhere I looked, in all that I saw and did and felt and thought. Like I was seeing life and the world through new eyes, through lenses of this new name, this new identity. Like Cory said, it was now right, and it no longer felt for me contrived or awkward as it had at times before. Jonathan had fought, struggled in the snow and made it up that mountain. But along the way a shift occurred and he remained there while Adam is the one that came down the mountain back to the world.

There are more stories of this experience, and more memories I’d be happy to share with any who is interested, but basically, that is the story of my new name, the story of my experience in the mountains of Wyoming and how I came to be called Adam. This is how the story of Jacob became for me, so much more than another Bible story but rather, my story. And now, no longer will I be known as Jonathan, but as Adam, for I have struggled and wrestled with God and with men and have overcome.

the beginning

Wow, so it's already been like a week and a half. I really want to just jump in and talk about the most recent stuff, but Xan advised us to kindof start from the beginning. But where does this story begin? It certainly doesnt begin with the first day of work today, nor even with dinner with an amazing man of God on Monday night. Neither was the beginning that week long backpacking trip through the snow of Wyoming, or even the first day, the day we all arrived in CO and met for the first time. It's possible it begins months earlier, when I got a myspace invitation from some people I'd never heard of, while reading a book by that same man of God that described my heart perfectly.

I suppose that is when this story begins, for that is how I heard of Training Ground, getting a friend request online while going through Way of the Wild Heart. However, my story, like the other guys' stories, begins much earlier, years earlier. And like all our stories, it begins with a question. And that question is what has haunted and driven me all my life. Do I have what it takes? Am I a man? Can I do it? And, as Dan said, it is what has driven me out here.

The heart is a deep and dangerous thing, and so few of us ever know our heart, or God's heart for us, much less ever truly live from that heart. The growing unrest that has developed in my spirit over the last many years from knowing that I was not living from my heart has propelled me into this quest to find it, and with it my identity. A great sage named John reminded me recently that the danger of the heart is not only its impact on you, but also the impact it will have on all those you will ever love. All the lives that will be touched and affected, over how many decades, they will be touched for good or for ill depending on how much you know your own heart and how you deal with your own brokenness.

In reading his many words I got a glimpse of what I needed, and in finding Xan and Cory and what they were doing I knew I had found a path to some of the many things I knew I desperately needed. And so here I am. A four hour plane ride, a couple more waiting at the airport, and a few more driving around Colorado, I finally made it to the place I'd be living for three months and the guys I'd be living there with. I was the first to meet Xan and Cory that first day, last Monday, as they picked me up at the Denver airport, then we got Dan from his flight into the Springs, and then met up with Josh and Campbell in a McDonalds parking lot. How do you describe instant friendship, an immediate bond? I don't know, but the fact that we were talking and joking like old friends within hours seemed like coincidence to none of us.

Perhaps it was knowledge- the fact of what we all shared and knowing that we all shared it, that which had brought us here in the first place. Regardless, we may have become instant friends that first night, but that first week brought us together as brothers on a common journey, and the rest of that journey together this summer will solidify this band, this fellowship.

More on all this later...
Adam