This spring, from April 26 – May 3 I hiked a section of the Appalachian Trail from Front Royal, VA to Pennsylvania- through northern Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland and into Pennsylvania.  Over the course of the week, I walked, kept my eyes open, took some pictures and listened for God’s “gentle whisper.” Here are some of those thoughts in devotional form.  This is the first devotional in the series.

For me, part of the fun of preparing for a multi-day hike is the planning.  So, for several weeks, in preparation for my Appalachian Trail section hike, I created a command station down in the basement on the ping pong table.  On one side I gathered supplies.  I had my clothes, hammock, sleeping bag, rain tarp, sleeping mat, camp stove, water bottles, mess kit, med kit, hygiene supplies, watch, flashlight, pocketknife, water filtration system, camera, spare batteries, Bible, journal and 9 days of food systematically laid out on one side. It made a HUGE pile.  And on the other side of the net, I had trail maps laid out in consecutive order from start to finish.  The maps were very detailed, showing elevations, shelters, water sources and points of interest.  And since I intended on hiking 111 miles from Front Royal Virginia to Route 30 in Pennsylvania, the maps laid out side by side measured over 12 feet.

I spent countless hours organizing and reorganizing the supplies, packing and unpacking my backpack, cooking test meals, attempting to make homemade granola (big fail), purchasing and sampling various kinds of trail mix and studying the maps. Boy, did I study the maps- marking shelters, charting distances, highlighting elevations. I developed detailed spreadsheets laying out the hike.  I had a 10 mile a day plan and a 15 mile a day plan with hyperlinks to an online interactive trail map.  It was a lot of fun and really built my anticipation.   But after about a week or two… Pam stopped coming down into the basement. I’m not sure why.

But here’s the thing.  No matter how much planning I did, the hike from start to finish was one big exercise in adjusting my expectations.  Nothing worked out quite the way I planned. The first time I packed my backpack, I think it weighed like 100 pounds.  It was jammed to the top and I still had items left over.  “Wow, I’ve got to cut this to under 38 pounds. Maybe I don’t need that three-volume set of ‘Flowers, Fauna and Fish of the Mid-Atlantic States’ or that nifty campfire cooking wok with matching panini press and popcorn popper I impulse bought on Amazon.” In the end, I took a fraction of what I initially planned.

The same was true of my so-called “hiking spreadsheet.” It’s one thing to look at a map and guess how far you’ll be able to walk, but quite another thing when you’re actually hiking the trail.  Some of my projections were completely unrealistic.  The first day I got 15 miles. But some days, the trail went up and down like a yoyo with steep climbs and treacherous descents. One day the trail led endlessly through a rock field that bruised and battered my feet. On days like that I was exhausted and lucky to go 10 miles.

At first, I was really bummed.  “I’m falling behind. I’m not reaching my goal!”  and “What’s wrong with me, I should be in better shape.” I got grumpy and discouraged. But I quickly came to realize that my expectations were completely out of line. I had to let go of my preconceived plans because I could only go as fast as the terrain allowed and my body could keep up. And after I released my expectations, I began to enjoy the trip again.  I wasn’t holding myself to some impossible, imaginary standard that I could never reach.  I could take each day as it came- the good and the bad, the easy and the challenging- and truly be present in the moment.

I find that true in life as well.  Many times, we set unrealistic expectations or impossible goals for ourselves.  “I will get happily married, have 2 kids, own a house on a hill with a golden retriever and retire at 65 to travel the world with my wife.” Or “My kids are going to excel academically; all play team sports and graduate from college.” Other times we look around longingly at others who seem to be making such great progress on the trail.  “I should be more like them. Why can’t the path be easier for me?” And when we fail to meet those unreachable goals, we become angry and disillusioned with ourselves or God.

Well, it’s not wrong to dream and certainly not wrong to plan.  But in the end, we must hold our plans loosely because each of us has a unique path planned by our Father and we can only go as fast as the terrain allows.  When we release those unrealistic expectations and rest in his pacing, we are free to enjoy the blessings we have rather than the ones we wish we had.  And we will be able to be content with where we are at, without constantly wishing we were further down the path.

Proverbs 16:9 gives me great comfort.  It says,

In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps.

It’s wise to plan, but sometimes God’s plans are different.  But as we walk the trail with God, we can rest assured that God takes our active engagement and molds it into his overall purpose.  So, if you are walking with God, you are covering exactly the distance you need to in order to reach his desired end. But if we constantly compare ourselves to others or hold ourselves to some imaginary standard, we will miss the rest that Jesus has promised to those who follow Him.  Besides, if God is with me on the trail, why would I want to be anywhere else?

More next week…