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.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
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.
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...
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
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.
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.
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.
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