Trying Not to Fall

On our last family hike, on New Year’s Eve, we went to New River Gorge National Park and hiked the Endless Wall Trail. It’s a very easy, almost all flat, hike. Most of the walking is on a path with very few obstacles (although the day we went, it was very muddy). There are a few areas of scrambling across tree roots and rocks, but not many. There is one footbridge to cross. 

As is the norm for our family hikes, no matter HOW hard or HOW easy, all 5 kids (even the one who hates hiking) were out of sight. We just yell ahead occasionally to check that they’re still ok (although woe be the person who would attempt to abduct the five of them) or to have them wait at the next trail sign. Kraig was, as is his norm, hanging back with me but out a little ahead. And I was, as is MY norm, plodding along. Sometimes it’s because I cannot breathe, sometimes it’s because I need to go to the bathroom, sometimes it’s because I just walk more slowly, sometimes it’s because I’m stopping to take pics, sometimes it’s because I’m looking around, all the time it’s because I’m trying not to fall.

I am, by my nature and since I was tiny, prone to falling. I have no idea why. I used to think it was because I didn’t get glasses till 4th grade and I am very close to legally blind. Then I thought it was because I wasn’t paying attention to my feet. Then I thought maybe it’s just the weak ankles that tall people have (giraffes have the same problem). Now I just don’t know but it has become a bit of an obsession/phobia of mine, trying not to fall. 

Kraig knows my propensity for falling and has, especially since a particularly unfortunate fall in a canyon in Utah where I then had to hike two more miles (apparently running on adrenaline since my knee didn’t seize up until we got to the car and then he had to help me move for a full day), always scouted out the more likely fall places and hangs back to help me across them. (When we finished that aforementioned hike in Utah, he said, “Hm. The place you fell wasn’t at all where I expected you to fall. I was sure it would be on the slippery rocks in one of the creek crossings.” 😂)

Sometimes he just steadies me, sometimes he is just there if I need him, sometimes it’s just a hand, and sometimes it’s a full dependence. 

On the New Year’s Eve hike, there was a small section of the path that was downhill (my nemesis), across exposed roots and rocks, in mud, and slick leaves. This had all the makings of a spectacular fall. Kraig waited on me, in front of me, I put both hands on his shoulders and I looked only at the ground. I looked at each place he stepped and I stepped in those exact places. I didn’t look around me, I didn’t look behind me, and not one time did I look at what was coming up. I stared at the ground, at each place my foot would fall as it stepped, and I held onto his shoulders. As we moved in unison, his right foot then mine, his left foot then mine, I got the most clear understanding of how the Lord has to lead us at times. I actually asked Kraig to pause so that I could take these pictures to illustrate this point. 

On this path of life, our Father takes a lot of different positions. He is ALWAYS there, but sometimes He is walking beside us, sometimes we need His steadying hand, sometimes He just calls out a warning. But SOMETIMES… sometimes not only do we need His complete assistance for each step, sometimes the only way through is to watch His feet and hang on to his strong shoulders. Those shoulders that bore that cross… they are surely strong enough to hold you. 

There are times in life that the going is so hard that we can only handle the very next step. We can’t contemplate the past, we can’t be distracted by what’s around, and we surely can’t look ahead to an uncertain future. We can only think about the very next step. In those parts of our journey, it’s important to do the only thing that can be done that will guarantee an arrival without a fall… hold onto Him and step exactly where He leads. I’ve always loved the verse in Isaiah (Isaiah 30:21) that says, “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’”

But this isn’t that. This is when a voice from behind isn’t enough, we need to lean on Him and we are only strong enough for one step at a time. This isn’t a voice in our ear, but this is the action ahead of the words. This is the way, this footfall right here, walk in it. And He will be there. Just like Kraig is during these parts of our hikes, He will be there as your guide and for you to lean on. He wants to be all that we need, and it’s in these times that we can taste and see that He is as we valiantly, or even pitifully, try. We will see that He won’t let us fall.