Just 20 minutes into my first high adventure trek with my oldest son, one of the dads turned back. He chose basecamp and the pool over blisters, chafing, and lugging 25+ pounds of water on your back up and down the Davis mountains in July.

After limping into basecamp 4 days and 50 miles later, I bought the shirt that captured reality: “Donate blood. Hike Buffalo Trails Scout Ranch.” If feet could speak, mine would have slurred, “Truth.” 

Turning back raises its head at some point of every difficult journey. Maybe early on when your heart gets overwhelmed. Perhaps later when the body can’t slog another step. 

The certainty of ‘what was’ woos us back from the difficulty of ‘what is.’ Especially when the ‘what is’ is full of blisters and chafing. 

Rare are those who say, “I’d like more chafing. Please.”

We turn back from marriages. Relationships. Goals. Conversations.

From congregations and jobs and teams where personalities and politics create conflict.

From opportunities for growth wrapped in real-time suffering. 

We forget the presence of Him who promises divine strength. Who prays for us when our feet give up. Who claimed us as His own. 

Who assures us chafing isn’t forever.

Rather than do what is right and good for the sake of others, we revert to easy and what was.

Doing Jesus’ stuff is rarely easy in a world at odds with its Creator.

Thankfully I stayed on the trail. I pushed through the screaming feet. I stumbled across the finish line. Unaware of how many other amazing treks that first one would launch.