I hiked solo around Bell Rock on the last clear, blue-sky winter day of this vacation adventure.
God and I needed some connect time before re-entry into my real life. You know, the one with the nagging daily grind. The chronic relational struggles. The never-ending chores. And so much drama…
I miss the rest of my family and appreciate my home but it’s been pretty sweet not to wash a single dish over the last 5 days.
I haven’t picked up after anybody either.
And absolutely no cooking. None. Whole Foods Market deli, baby. We’ve been eating fine.
Thankfully, my challenges are pretty ordinary. Minor trials. First world problems, for sure.
I’m happy to report that none of my kids is held hostage by crazy terrorists,
We’re not fleeing from our lives with only the possessions we can carry on our backs,
Not a single family member is fighting stage 4 cancer, or any cancer for that matter,
None of have been washed out into Lake Michigan by a riptide or a 12 foot wave,
And as a bonus, neither Lily or I fell off any cliffs on this vacation either.
I spent 4 blissful days willing my fears and concerns out of sight, out of mind. Until this hike. And then, I knew they had to be faced again.
8.5 miles later, God and I finished our 3 hour conversation.
I used words. He spoke through creation.
At one point, I sat on a rock along a dry creek bed for a break and a couple of old codgers passed me, asking if I was doing mindful meditation.
“I’m eating a tangerine,” I replied, but what I should have told them, instead, is that I’m praying. Because that’s what I was doing. Casting all my cares on Him–my cares about Brian and Angela and Lily and Robyn and Brennan and Starla–because He cares about us. He cares deeply about our fears, our pain, our struggles, our disappointments, our questions, our doubts, our challenges and our confusion. He cares about the barriers in our relationships too.
He counts our tears and puts them in His bottle.
He knows just how many hairs are on our head even after we’ve just brushed it.
He is slow to anger and abounding in love.
He does not treat us as our sins deserve.
He never has and never will leave or forsake us.
And nothing can separate us from His love.
His plans are to give us a future and a hope.
And His mercies are new every morning, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
We are Chosen. Rescued. Adopted. Beloved.
After Bell Rock, I had one more place to visit, the final check mark on my bucket list for this trip. All the locals said, “You can’t miss seeing Chapel of the Holy Cross.” So, I drove to the base of the hill that the church was constructed into, then walked up to its back entrance. You can see through it before you even open the doors because its designed with floor to ceiling windows on both ends. There’s an imposing 33-foot crucifix sculpture of Jesus, bronze glistening off the sun’s rays, its backdrop, the red rocks of Sedona. I knelt at the bench in the front row, right behind the 3 day candles you can light for $5 and whispered the Lord’s Prayer as Jesus looked compassionately down from the cross, right at me.
On the first hike of my vacation, I worshipped baby Jesus celebrating the mystery of the incarnation.
And on my last hike, I’m gazing at Jesus body broken for me and wondering at the miracle of redemption.
And both realities remind me anew that All is Well and All will be Well.
Breathe it in. All is Well.
Exhale. All will be Well.
Repeat. Over and over.
Maybe I am doing mindful meditation after all…
It’s time. I’m packing my carry on. I’ll board my plane and, Lord willing, get back to the real life God’s called me to, with the people he’s privileged me to take my journey with, in about 9 hours. Ready to serve and desiring to love a bit more like the Jesus I’ve encountered in Arizona.