Lost in the Dark
Ever find yourself hopelessly lost and ready to give up? Or do you wake up one day and realize you’ve lost your way? I’ve been there and will probably be there again, that seems to be a part of life. In today’s “Lessons From the Trail” series I’ll share a story about being lost and some life lessons I’ve learned along the way.
On my thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail I got delayed in Rural Retreat, VA waiting for a replacement backpack. I had been hiking with some guys who I really enjoyed being with, so I anxiously waited several days for my new pack then set off to catch up to them. My pack arrived on the second day of waiting and in my frustration I took off at 3pm with a 23 mile hike planned. At that point I was hiking 2.5 miles an hour on average so it would be well after midnight before I reached the shelter.
As night settled in, a cool wind started to blow and drizzle and fog started moving in. I was hiking on a mellow section of trail that went through pastures and other flat terrain on the top of a ridge line. To this day I remember just how quiet it was that night and how alone I felt in the damp darkness, only able to see what my headlamp illuminated.
I was hiking along and without warning my headlamp shut off. The batteries had failed. I was standing in a field in pitch darkness in the rain. Because of the cloud cover and the rain it was so dark it would have been a challenge to even pitch my tent for shelter. I was alone and lost in the dark.
Luckily I had a spare set of batteries in my pack that I had just picked up in town. Finding and changing batteries by feel was challenging. With my light back on I pushed forward toward my goal, a shelter that was about 4 miles away. The rain grew heavier and the fog thickened and it became very challenging to stay on the trail. Several times I was ready to give up and make camp on the side of the trail. I kept pushing and around 1:30am my headlamp caught the outline of a shelter just 20 feet to my left. It was a wonderful sight. In the next two days I hiked an additional 50+ miles to catch up with my friends.
Standing in that Virginia pasture on a dark, rainy night was among the scariest events that happened on the trail. But that experience pales when compared to the loneliness, sadness and fear that so many face in life. My ministry is to help people who are lost in the dark.
I’m not here to bicker with people on social media about the latest trending topic. I don’t waste my time firing off emails to major corporations voicing my displeasure with their policies or decisions only to recoil in shock when they respond with a form letter. And I don’t waste my time focusing on the current issues of this world when they are just a symptom of the deeper need that people have for light, love, hope and direction. I recognize that there are people all around me who are lost in the dark and need me to shine my light, to share some hope and love with them.
Just in the first few days of this week, the need for me to shine has been so clearly evident. My wife and I spent some time with an amazing young woman who at 18 has handled the loss of her mother yesterday better than most adults I know. I’ve talked with a number of recovering addicts and their families this week and encouraged them in their great battle. And we have mentored a number of young people in the excellent things they are doing and can be doing. I’m not saying this to toot my horn but to point out that there are people with whom we can make a major difference.
And I don’t want to forget this. My whole focus with “Dad is Learning” is being a better husband and Dad. I’ve been gone every night this week, so today I came in early and am going home early to spend some time with all my girls. No point in shining my light for others if I forget the people who are supposed to be first.
Life is tough my friends, but we all have opportunities to help those who are lost in the dark. If this post has been encouraging to you, would you consider sharing it using the share buttons below?
Very good article and lesson! We are thankful you and your family have chosen to let your lights shine at Bridgewood; you are an inspiration to us all!