A Life of Adventure

The moment my foot touched the floor in that Salt Lake City airport, I felt something race through me, something new. I made my way to baggage claim area to find someone I didn't know, but I knew she was the one I was supposed to meet there because of the camping gear. I was about to meet up with eighteen people I had never met in my life and drive up to the Grand Teton National Park in Jackson Hole, Wyoming to go camping and backpacking. It felt incredible, having no clue what I was in for. When I had signed up for the trip, I only knew two things: it was a backpacking trip in Wyoming, and that I wanted to go more than I have ever wanted anything. I wanted an adventure.
So I hopped in the rental van and we set off. I had some pretty solid and surprisingly meaningful conversations with the people in my van on the four hour drive from Salt Lake City to Jackson Hole, and the excitement was building inside me. We got to the campsite in the park, and it was beautiful. We were tucked in the edge of a wooded area that opened up to a field, then a spectacular view of the Tetons. I don't know if you have ever seen this mountain range, but in my opinion, it is one of the most beautiful things this country has to offer. We held a short Bible study and went to bed shortly after. I have never slept better than I did those eight nights crammed in a tent in my sleeping bag with four other guys.
The first four days were spent going on day-hikes and doing other activities like white water rafting. They were amazing. After just the second day, I felt as though the people on that trip were my brothers and sisters, and we grew pretty close. One night, we went to some hot springs that were a good bit away from our camp. It was a little chilly, and we walked about a quarter mile and waded through a river to get to the springs. When we got there, we sat mostly around the edge of the pools and let our feet hang down under the water that reflected the bright moon and eerie clouds shifting in and out of its light. Two of the guys from the trip shared their testimonies that night, and I will never forget it. Both consisted of some seriously screwed up events that took place in their lives, whether the destruction wrought by drugs, or the hatred unleashed by parents, they had been through hell. These two guys (Jack and Garrett were their names) were the most sincere Christians I had ever met. Before the trip, I had every doubt in my mind that God even existed, and I had the bitter taste of cynicism for Christians in my heart. But after hearing what they had been through, all the ways God pulled them out, and how sincerely they spoke, I couldn't have doubted God if I wanted to. It is easy for doubt to overtake your mind, but all it takes is an experience with God to wipe it all away.
Another experience of the heart like this took place the last day before we set out to the back country. On that day, we witnessed to people in Jackson Hole. I remember the two guys in my group were named Andrew and Brian. Andrew was well learned on arguments for the Christian viewpoint, so he was confident and ready. But Brian was afraid to be rejected by whoever we spoke to. The three of us set off to find someone to talk to, and saw a man sitting on a bench in the square. I could see the smile on his face already, and I knew he was ready to argue us to the ground. It turns out, he was an evolution professor, so he really was. What followed was a back and forth (initiated by him, oddly enough) about religion where he explained why he could never believe it, and we gave him a word of love and left (there really was nothing bitter about it, he was actually a really cool guy, and appreciated us to some degree). I thought nothing of it, because I had been in these types of discussions a thousand times. But Brian on the other hand, was devastated. He was brought down in a big way because of that conversation, as were some others who witnessed to people and were turned down. Then, on the way to go rafting, I was sitting next to my friend Katie, and Andrew handed her a phone with a text opened. Her hands started to shake violently and she broke out in tears. Her best friend's mom had just died. We had been in such a spiritual uplift before, such a strong bond with each other and God, Satan decided it was time to attack. And he did, on every front.
We were back at camp that night, weary and downtrodden from all that had happened that day, and among the bigger battles that day, there were many others between us, so we sat as tired soldiers after a full day of spiritual warfare. We talked some things out, encouraging each other through this time of hardship, especially for Katie and the others who knew her friend. At the end, Jack prayed with us. He was just talking to God, it sounded like he didn't even notice us there. He told God how Satan had attacked us on every occasion, and how we had trusted in God and overcame every time. Then, there was a pause in his words. In those moments of silence, I could hear the fire crackling quietly like the footsteps of some forgotten army thousands of miles away. I could feel the stars, perfectly still and silent, yet mighty, and the mountains, the ancient centurions surrounding us as if messengers for the Army of God. We were tucked inside this creation, these mountains, this world, and we had each other, and we felt strength. And then Jack spoke, surely, soundly: “When Satan has to go to plan C, he knows he's fucked.” And it was over.
We set off the next day into the back country, the wilderness. We had an intense hike ahead of us: four miles uphill and two miles that varied from climbing downward to mountain paths. It was a challenge to get through it, because I'm not exactly in peak physical condition, but it payed off. We hiked with our packs across beautiful ridges in the Teton range and at times sang “The Sound of Music” at the top of our lungs, and it really did seem fitting. And once we got through the first four miles that went up the sides of various mountains and climbed down to the last stretch inside the mountains, it was breathtaking. We hiked through snow and mud and rocks, and it was absolutely incredible. There were valleys off to the sides with waterfalls and rushing rivers sweeping below us, and mountains towered all around us. It was one of those moments that left me bewildered at how to even take it in, and frustrates me now, trying to explain it as I write. I swear the face of God is a mountain, or an open field, or a blanket of snow.
We arrived at the place we had planned to set our tents up and camp at, and settled down. It was a bowl-shaped valley with a lake right before us and to the left, a ridge overhanging a river that fed into the lake. Again, I'm pulling my hair out trying to explain this one. I know the English language has a lot of descriptive words that can be used, but words are not the form of expression this landscape requires of you. It demands your heart, and I handed mine right over, because I was captivated.

We were snuggled in between the mountains. No civilization. No outside influence. Pure nature. Pure God. My whole life, I feel like I am reaching and reaching, trying so hard to find God in my life, but somehow fit him into society as well. Out there, with nothing but unadulterated majesty and the joy of the company of some incredible friends, I felt like I was sitting right next to God, just hanging out with him, like it was something I should be doing every day. He had a lot to tell me, now that I was listening. I had been gone for so long, I felt like I was walking back into those mountains to meet up with an old friend, and he showed me the world. The days I spent in those mountains were pure worship. Being in God's glory. If you want to meet God, get away. Find adventure. Do something you have never done before. Buy a plane ticket to Salt Lake City and meet up with 18 strangers! If something adventurous and risky is put in front of you, go after it. You will never regret it. Get into the wild. Push the limits of your heart. Meet up with that old friend whose calls you have been ignoring, and see what He shows you.
The day we left the back country was the day before we had to get on our planes and go home. We drove into Salt Lake City to stay at a KOA for the night. It was this campsite with nice green grass, some little cabins and plots for tents. In the middle of Salt Lake City. Next to factories and an airport. We were out of the glorious nature we had been immersed in for seven days, but I didn't feel any different. It was then that I realized that it was the people I was with. I felt closer to them than I do most of my friends at home. The outdoors had just provided a framework for our friendship. We had been through a lot together, and I had shared my heart to the guys in my tent for that whole trip and pushed through every physical and spiritual obstacle with them. We had deep spiritual studies and conversations every night, and I realized that even if we were in the middle of the city, without exterior influences of nature to inspire us, it was the same. I had all those experiences with those people, we loved each other and shared our hearts. This was true, sincere fellowship.

“Happiness only real when shared.” -Into the Wild

I think the plane trip the next day was the most depressing four hours of my life. There was a fairly violent storm when the plane went through Florida, and something in me hoped it would crash. When I got home, I was mildly happy to see my family (nothing against them, they are great and all), but I was mostly sad. I lay in bed imagining the horrors of living in Florida for another five years or whatever I was sure it would be, and begged for more adventure. It felt like one of those nights where you come home from somewhere where there was sincere, heartfelt worship, and you didn't want it to end, but it did. And you are left in the wake of it. I was in the wake of my worship. Then I noticed something. I began to find adventure everywhere in my life. I began to think of God differently, like I wasn't studying the Bible, but reading a long-awaited letter sent to me by my best friend. I began to live like the opinions of others were so irrelevant that they could never override my joy and my love. I had made a discovery, out there in the mountains, and it began to pour into every area of my life. Now, rather than seeing God's character in a mountain, I see it in a simple act of love. Rather than in a mighty raging river, I see it flowing powerfully through the pages of the Bible. Without an adventure in your life, without some significant risk or journey (and they hardly happen when you want them to, or when you think they will), you will be left in the wake of doubt. I had experienced God face to face, and it felt like I had met him for the first time. If I would not have taken a risk and done something uncomfortable, I would have not faced change, and I would not have overcome doubt or found such a closeness with God.