Saturday, day 2, was a grueling hike, straight up the side of the mountain. There were several stream crossings, steep inclines and places where I felt my body would fail me. It was in those moments of fear and self-doubt that I called upon God to give me the power and strength and courage to carry on. A little after lunch time on Saturday, we reached our peak altitude or about 2,500 feet. I climbed a mountain! What??!! I never dreamed that such strength dwelled in me! Self-actualization number 1! I am created to live without fear, to be a pillar of strength, filled with Spirit of the Lord, my God!
On Saturday night, night two, a small group of the women and I sat around 2 tiny tea-light candles and a lavender incense stick. By the moon light, we talked of our souls. We talked about our struggles as mamas to babes. We spoke of our connectedness to the earth and our desires. We opened our hearts and let life connections flow. Truly long lost soul sisters, we found grace and understanding. That circle was a safe place. The stream water flowed just behind us. Like that flowing stream, living water, life giving nourishment bubbled up inside of me. Renewing my spirit.
Sunday morning we set out down the mountain towards our destination, eyes set on homeward bound vehicles. Vehicles. It has dawned on me recently that that is what we truly are. Vehicles. The body is a vehicle for the soul. It carries us through life until we reach our final destination in life. These bodies of ours are simply a means to an end. An eternal end. Carrying us through life, being maintained, using energy to propel us forward. This vehicle of mine, a temple of Holy dwelling for the Spirit of my God.
On the hike out Sunday morning, most of the women packed out at their own pace. Many footsteps separated us. As our feet fell upon the earth, distances grew. In those few hours, I was able to pray about all of the hurts I have been clinging to. I had been feeling justified, holding onto my grief, allowing it to rule me. Holding it tight, but never really feeling it. This trip had forced me to face dealing with those emotions. To really feel them. They had been there all along. They were present. But I had not truly let myself experience the depth that they had run. I had them, but had not truly felt them. I had been numb. I had forgotten my own inner strength, the divine strength that lies within. Strength that carries us on, even in the face of great sorrow and heart break.
When I packed out, I was alone with my thoughts and feeling. For the first time, I was forced to face my own inner-demons. However deep and true and painful they be, there I was, alone to face them in the way I choose. I had a choice. I could choose to continue to suppress them, burying them in the forest under mounds of trees and fresh air, in the beauty that was surrounding me. Or I could acknowledge their presence, feel them and release them into the great unknown. Surrendering them to God.
Surrender.
It is a word that keeps finding me. In books that I pick up. In a show that I watch. In the quiet words God speaks to me in the late, quiet hours of the night. Surrender. To me, that word always meant giving up control. I like control. I like things just so. My way or no way. It has gotten me into trouble in childhood, in my marriage and as a mother. Mostly, it has been something that God keeps urging me to do. After all, I am a Christian and deep in my heart I already truly know that I am not in control. It is God who is in control. He who cares so for each little Sparrow, does he not care more for me? Creator of the Heavens and the Earth. Maker of the stars. Crafter of the womb. He who is in control of the world is also in control of me. Surrender. There is great power in surrender. It is in surrender that miracles happen.
I choose surrender. My emotions overwhelmed me. As I felt each one, I simply acknowledged that it was okay to feel it. I did not let them control me. I felt it and I let it pass away. Surrendering it to God, giving it to the tree tops, releasing it to flow downstream.
As I let the things go that had been weighing me down, I felt renewed, refreshed, filled. I began to feel lighter, almost as if I was floating out of the park, feet off the ground. So I began to marvel at the mystery of God, His undeniable power to heal and to lead us on the paths of righteousness with the souls who can feed us. So I lifted my spirit and my praises to He who is ALWAYS faithful. I worshipped the Lord with songs of Surrender and Thanksgiving.
As my feet carried me forward, heart lifted high, I took notice to little things that otherwise may have gone unnoticed. As I continued to pray and worship, I stopped to take notice of the flowing water. With the waters rushing on, strong currents carrying the waters downward, rooted deep within, a small barren tree was holding strong. I don't think anyone else would have stopped to admire or even notice that tree. It was not particularly large or beautiful or majestic. But God had me take notice, to teach me something that I long ago forgot. No matter how small, a tree can be mighty and strong. When the currents of life are raging, if we dig deep, root ourselves in the strong foundations of the earth, into the love of a God who never leaves us, we can stand strong, unwavering. Even when we stand alone, naked and bare, vulnerable, we have strong, deep roots that hold us up. The job of a root is to draw up nourishment from the earth, but also to help hold up only a small piece of the earth.
I take on everyone else's feeling and problems, a bit of an empath, at times. I sense other's anger and bitterness, sadness and un-fulfillment. I carry it on my back, feeling he weight of the world. I feed off of the energy of others, positive or negative. I feed off of the feeling of insecurities and self-doubt. Just the same, I can fly high of their feelings of enlightenment and fulfillment, happiness and serenity. But, I am also a problem fixer. And when my gift of empathy fails me to fix the problems of others, I can not bare the wounds and scars that accumulate. But on that day, I realized that it is not my responsibility to hold up the world. My roots were made, by the care of the Creator, to only hold up my piece of the earth. To hold up my own being, to nourish my soul, to feed the souls in my marriage and of my children.
Even a solitary tree, wrought with guilt and shame, hanging on in the gales of swift currents, can be fruitful with strong roots. I have strong root in my God and faith and trust in Jesus. I have deep root in my family and the ones who love me, hold me up, those present and long after those who have passed. I have unyielding root in friendships that God has placed in my path, friends and long lost soul sisters who fill my cup. I have an undeniable root in the earth, created by God to nourish our souls and bodies. Root. Also appointed as my trail name...Root.
After we all made it back to the parking lot, we circled up one last time as a powerful group of strong women. We shared chocolate and once again, we shared our hearts. It seemed as if almost everyone shared that the solitary hike out was their favorite part of the whole weekend. Healing was found. Worship was had. Meditation was experienced. Baptism of the waters was received. Breath of life was felt. Emotions were released. Truths were embraced. Souls were renewed. Selves were found.
It was a sweet, kind-hearted sister, named Stephanie who spoke these ever true words during that final circle, "Nature heals." And her words were true. They rang loud and they rang clear and true. Nature had healed me. God had used His marvelous Creation to restore my soul. In the woods I had found peace. I found inner strength. I found hope to carry on in the midst of grief. I found myself. I found the me that had been lost, long ago, suppressed deep beneath the layers of built up emotions and pains and lies and experiences and life. The self-inflicted un-truths that we allow ourselves to believe, they bury our true selves, far beneath the surface, unable to re-surface until we face the pains deep within.
Another souls sister, also named Stephanie, or Web Weaver, talked of her walk to loving her own "me." This was a concept that was foreign to me. I am an insecure self-doubter. It is something that I have since thought long and hard about. I have come to self-actualization number 2. My highest potential is to embrace the "me" that God has designed. To be all that He has called me to be. And THAT takes work!
It is a time consuming work. It is a work of wonder and self-realization and self-actualization. It is a work of facing fears and coming to terms with heart aches and vulnerabilities. It is a work of surrender and finding roots. It is a work of healing. It is a work that is necessary. It is a work that I often neglect, reasoning that my time is better spend on the needs of other people, justifying that we are called to lift others up, to put the needs of other's first, making ourselves last, that in Heaven those who do so will be rewarded. But I have come to the realization that in order to be well enough, emotionally, physically, spiritually, to put others first, I must first do the messy self work in order to be the best version of me that God created me to be to serve others. It is okay to fill our own needs. How can we serve and lift other beings up if we are not even strong enough to hold our selves up? But also, that when we are even too weak to hold ourselves up, we have a loving, pillar of strength to carry us on. God.
We do not need to try to carry on in this life in our own power and strength. We need divine versions of these things to make it to the finish line of life. I am secure enough to admit that my power is not enough. My strength is not enough. Prayer is strength. Prayer moves mountains. Prayer heals. Prayer opens us up to the miracles of strength and power and healing and security.
We live in a very broken world, a world that will not carry on forever. Living in such brokenness calls for us to be salt and light. Be the change. Be a ray of hope. Be a beacon of love. Let your roots expand to help those around you stand upright in rushing currents. Dig deep. Surrender.
I still feel the pain of grief, I am gently reminding myself that it is okay. I still struggle with taking time for myself, I am gently reminding myself that it is okay. I still am working toward self-acceptance and finding the "new normal" of my life, I am gently reminding myself that it is okay. But from this trip, I came home on a high. A spiritual, righteous high, only which I can describe as a spiritual awakening, a spiritual surrender, found only by rooting myself faithfully in the love of the Father.
So my prayer for each of you, is that you would take the not only well-deserved, but needed time to do the inner works of your own soul, to find your roots, to surrender your life to a greater power and ultimately to find your healing. Be it in the middles of the woods after climbing a mountain, or in the quiet of your living room after the littles have fallen fast asleep. Take the time, open your heart, lift your troubles to a greater power than yourself. Lastly, be willing to accept the miracles that are going to follow! Love and light.
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