How to chase a bear off a mountain

I am having trouble walking this week. And it’s my own fault. Or maybe I can blame the bear? I’m not sure. But there’s a story and a lesson here, I think. So I’m trying to pay attention.

Last week was Fall Break here. At least in name, it was Fall Break. In reality, it felt like an extension of the never-ending summer we are having down here in the South. But anyway. We headed for the mountains in hopes of cooler weather and some unplugged time with our boys. Camping, hiking, all of the things.

And on our second day, we chose this one hike because the review read “moderately difficult hike with spectacular views”. Well. That’s the last time I trust a hike reviewer. The way up was over 3 miles of steep terrain covered in roots and rocks and everything else that makes a hike complicated.

And the view I had was of my shoes and of my terrible ankles and knees. I watched every step and contemplated every move. I repeated the words “turn your foot in” over and over to myself so that I would not trip. And as the climb got harder, I focused more and more on my feet and the ground under them.

That’s not really the way you are supposed to hike, though. Head down. Fists clenched. Every move calculated. What about the gorgeous views? What about the mountain scenery? What about the bear?

Excuse me? Did you say bear? Those were the exact words I uttered when my husband told me to lift my eyes and move my feet faster. A what?

Now, of course, the bear was more scared of us than we were of him (thank you to my Boy Scouts for this fact!) but that didn’t make me feel any safer. I quickened my pace. I forgot to look at the ground. I forgot to remind myself to straighten out my foot. I forgot all of the things that had kept me safe on the way up.

And you guessed it. I fell. Right as we came to the last set of earthen stairs that would have led us off the mountain. I came down hard on the wrong side of my ankle and it twisted right under me.

Game over.

I hobbled down the end of the trail angry and sore. What just happened? I thought I was being so careful.

And isn’t that just how life goes sometimes? You’re walking through your days, ones that require you to push hard and keep your head down. And just when you think you are nailing it — out of nowhere comes a bear. Well, maybe not an actual bear, that might be weird, but you know what I mean.

And down you go.

Life can put us on some strange trails. It can tempt us to believe that we have to climb the mountain on our own. And for a while, we are all able to white knuckle our way up. We stare at our feet and lean into the hills. Because we are people who get things done, right? But what about when we can’t?

For me, it is the fear of failure looming as large as a bear in the woods. It chases me into doing life in ways I know are dangerous. I move too fast, I don’t sleep, I carry things that aren’t mine and hold tight to the assumption that I am only as good as the work I can get done. What about you? Anything chasing you through your days? Anything pushing you harder and faster than you should be going?

There’s a price to pay for running through life like that for too long. A price that is greater than a twisted ankle.

“O people of Zion, who live in Jerusalem, you will weep no more. How gracious [the Lord] will be when you cry for help! As soon as he hears, he will answer you. Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them. Whether you turn to the left or the right, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, this is the way walk in it” (Isaiah 30:19-21).

The prophet Isaiah knew what this price was; ears that stop being able to hear, eyes that can no longer see, hearts that won’t turn and minds that never stop racing. And he spent his life reminding God’s people of God’s faithfulness. “How gracious the Lord will be when you cry for help! As soon as he hears he will answer you!” Crying for help? When life gets hard, when I’m feeling frazzled and pushed, crying for help is never my first thought. I want to fix the problem, save the day, help the people … get rid of the bear, all on my own.

But guess what I learned up there on that hike?

The best way to get rid of a bear (at least a black bear in the NC mountains) is not to run away. It is to make a lot of noise.

Make. Noise.

Cry for help. That’s what God instructs his people to do when life is too much. Cry for help. Don’t speed up your pace or lean in harder or work faster. None of that is going to make the path easier. It is only going to lead to our downfall.

And I am slow to get this. Slow to understand that the way to learn how to hear the voice of God leading me through my days is to ask him to do it, to call on him, to need him more than I need my self-sufficient ways.

Easy hikes and spectacular views are awesome. And maybe that’s where you are right now. If so, I pray that you are enjoying the view.

But just in case your view today is a little less than ideal or your mountain a little tougher to climb than you thought. OR maybe you’ve seen a bear?

Well, here’s a truth to hold onto. If we will lift our eyes to the mountains and remember where our help comes from, the view will change. And if we will open our mouths and make some noise when life gets hard, we just might be amazed at how quickly our Father will come for us.

“And whether you turn to the left or to the right your ears will hear a voice behind you saying this is the way walk in it.”

The voice of the Lord leading us forward? Well, that’s some noise that can chase away any bear on any mountain. Amen!