Just Another Manic Monday

Often times, in the moments of distress and struggle in this life, we don't see adventures. We can't grasp the "epicness" of what's occurring because we are simply consumed in trying to make it through. It's moments like these, when we look back on them days or weeks or months later, that we can truly appreciate the experience and the simple fact that God truly is in the details.
I've been looking forward to posting here since the idea was conceived and presented in our family. A family blog isn't something that's commonly undertaken (although it might mean a few trips to the undertaker in some families....) and I was rather enthused by the idea. Thankfully, the Lord in His infinite mercy, provided the perfect source material for my post.
Mondays tend to set the tone for the week. If it's a great day, you know that you're going to have a great week. This past Monday set a tone that I'm not quite sure how to describe. It's the first time that something like this has happened to me so it was a learning process. Nonetheless, it was, like I mentioned earlier, one of those experiences where you don't quite grasp the "epicness" of what's happening.
My ever dedicated climbing partner and roommate, Christian Elkins and I decided that Monday was a day to go climbing. (Most days are good days to climb as long as it's a dry day and above 35 degrees.) We called up our long time friend and climbing accomplice Kylie Johnson and we ran to the hills.
It was a beautiful day. Singular, really, in the breath taking beauty that only mountainous canyons in the fall provide. There were yellow and orange leaves lilting down all around and the air was crisp and sharp. The smell of dying leaves and climbing gear wafted all around us. I felt alive. I felt amazing. My feet were totally and completely numb. We had decided to not only take it upon us to climb that day, but also to try our first attempt at climbing photography.

This means that I hung from the wall for the next hour as my mates climbed the route next to me. The weight of my body was resting entirely on those leg straps and the result was the oddest sensation in my feet and toes. I could rest them against the wall and all that would register was pressure, and nothing more. A rather interesting sensation. It was worth it.

There's really nothing like being in the mountains, surround by the titanic proportions of God's workmanship. There is something sacred about the communion between the creations of God's hands, His Children and our Playground.

See what I mean?

So there you have it, an excellent backdrop for a wonderful experience. We then crossed the canyon and repelled off a promontory, scoping out the route we would work on the next day.
Now, we had planned the evening out perfectly because our Young Single Adult Ward was having a weenie roast up that same canyon at 7. So, we got off the walls, gathered the gear and walked over to my Jeep to ride down and have fun with the ward.

Right after we broke the key

Then, we broke the key in the back door. It was 7:15 and we had no cell reception because we were 2 or 3 miles deep into the veins of the canyon. (Green Canyon in Logan, Utah to be specific) Now, 2 or 3 years ago, I might have been worried. Livid as well. Monday night, I chuckled. We packed up our gear and began the hike down. The interesting thing is, I felt distinctly that we should pray, as soon as we broke the key. I ignored this impression and proceeded to gather gear and prep to head out. Now, I can't say if things would have turned out differently than they did if I had listened to the Holy Ghost in my heart. What I do know is that about 25 minutes later, I felt that same impression. I had been calm the entire night after the key incident, but I still felt like we should pray so I asked the others if we could. We stopped right then on the side of a dark trail and prayed. I offered the words, yet no supplication nor pleading left my lips. Instead, it was a simple prayer of gratitude. Gratitude that we had been able to climb so well during the afternoon. For the gorgeous landscapes that we had witnessed. Gratitude that none of us had been harmed and for the strength and the calm that we'd had in the face of uncertainty and trial. We finished the brief prayer and within 15 minutes were with the ward and had a sure ride home.
I remember showing up to the activity in the dark and everyone wondering who on earth the three hippies in packs were. I remember the shock on their faces as we told them what all had happened and them asking how we could smile and laugh about it. It's simple. It really is. It was epic. It was an adventure and I'm so grateful that I could share it with my good friends. Not only was it an adventure but it was a blessing. In spite of the adversity that we'd encountered, everything pieced together perfectly. Instead of a disaster, it was mere inconvenience. I know for a fact that my Heavenly Father guided us Monday night. I know He protected and comforted us and that's why we were able to get home without a hitch.
Like I said, Mondays tend to set the tone of the week. If every week started like this week did, I'd never have a dull moment. Then again, that's a choice isn't it?

“It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.” 

 

-J. R. R. Tolkein

  Here's to the adventures that lie in wait for each of us.

-Andrew Simpson