A devotion by Miki Clouser

Recently someone asked me what I do when I am depleted… It didn’t take much thought to answer. Every place I’ve ever lived, I’ve found a quiet alone place in nature, because alone with God is where I recharge and find sanity. If I can find a remote enough trail, I’ll just walk along talking to God like He’s next to me, because He is. Anyone who’d happen to round a corner and find me talking to thin air might think I’m insane. But in all reality, I’m actually finding sanity. And in these moments, God shows me things that highlight His character and truths that bring peace to my chaotic existence.

The entire month of August I was seeing Facebook Memories of me in the woods, alone with God. I’m a loan officer in financial aid at RACC and August is the worst month of the year.  Life was so insanely unmanageable that I just never made it to the woods. I’d plan a day, and then was so tired I’d fall asleep at my desk. I’d drive home to fall asleep on the couch without dinner and eventually move to bed. Then I had an arthritis flare and could barely walk from my car to the desk. You can’t hike like that. Then I was legit running a fever… photo after photo teased me, but I never made it to the woods.

August 25^th rolled around, and yet another photo came up in my Memories from several years back. It was a particularly precious photo because it was taken in a year of chaos beyond chaos. I had wandered around the woods alternating between talking and silence, but still had no sense of peace. And nothing caught my eye or stood out. There were no gentle reminders that day. It was like God wasn’t speaking. I felt like Jacob in Genesis 32, wrestling with God and I didn’t want to bail and head home without a blessing. I’d already walked 7 miles and was dead tired. The sun was setting and I was two miles from the car with no flashlight. So, I knew I had to make a break for the parking lot or get caught stumbling down a rock-strewn path in the dark. Kind of a commentary on my life….

As I rounded a corner of the path, I saw an old dead tree that had fallen across the path. It was the type that took serious effort to get past. I looked up ruefully, “really?” I said aloud. He knew Who I was talking to. And as I looked back at the obstacle in my path, it was like God finally spoke.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me…”

“I never promised to free your path of obstacles, I just promised to walk with you on the path…”

It was like the biggest scold and the biggest hug all rolled into one. I snapped a photo of the tree because I wanted to remember.

The last day of August, I finally went on my hike. I planned a route through remote and unfamiliar territory. As I tromped through overgrown paths with tree blazes so faded I almost lost the path, I felt peace. And the breath of God was all around me. I think the woods are God’s best cathedral, built with His own hands.

The Pennsylvania woods were thick. Every now and then I’d catch glimpses of a breathtaking valley, but the trees growing on the steep slope blocked most of my view. I finally reached the end of a ridge when I saw a clearing through the trees. The entire area was completely logged out with a notice for a controlled burn later this year. There was something both happy/sad about the whole thing. I finally got a decent view of the valley, but there was a massive treeless scar across the landscape. And, and in a month, it would be a burned and treeless scar.

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You have anointed my head with oil, my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the House of Adonai forever.”

Being a history buff, I just happen to know that 200 years ago the entire forest I was hiking in was clear cut and burned to feed the Windsor Iron Furnace. Like this clearing, these mountains lay bare in past years, scorched and scarred beyond recognition. But God brought new life. And now I could walk through that forest without even knowing what happened before. That scarred clearing I found opened my view to things I would never be able to see without the trauma of having been stripped bare. And after being scorched the ash will fertilize the clearing and the forest will come back better than before. In 50 years you’ll never guess the trauma and destruction that went down.

There’s a lesson in that. One my heart needed to hear more than I knew even while walking in those woods a few weeks ago. I’ve escaped August. But currently some hard situations are bound to leave some treeless scars on the landscape of my life. The way is hard, but I am not alone.

Whether it’s an obstacle in front of me or a massive scar through the landscape of my life, God is there with me. He will walk through it. And He will use the scars to bring healing and make me better in the end.

~Miki