Meet Me There

We had our first membership class at church last week, and it was really, really helpful. We covered a lot of material, but it isn’t really hard to sum it up: the gospel. The gospel is the central focus. It’s central in our own lives. It’s central to community. And it’s central to ministry.

This diagram presents the message in a way I’d never seen before:

And it basically covers the three essential areas of content in the gospel:

1. God is holy, absolutely separate from evil.
2. People are not.
3. The cross is the bridge between the depth of our sin and the height of God’s holiness.

When we first become Christians, we are at the point of the diagram. We understand the basics of those three truths. But… and this is the really helpful part for me …as we continue in our faith, our understanding of God’s holiness increases and our sense of our own depravity deepens. In our experience we see the gap grow wider and wider.

What should happen when this disparity becomes more clear is a magnification of the cross and the work of Christ in the eyes of the believer. The power of the cross grows in our understanding and we give more glory to Jesus for what he’s accomplished for us. So the gospel is not something that we get down when we become Christians and then outgrow. It is central to the everyday walk of faith.

Well, today I’ve reached my Mosesian half-life.¹

That’s probably exaggerating a bit. Modern medical technology is making the average life span ever longer. But on the other hand, we are never guaranteed another day or even minute.

It’s strange to think about all the same. By one measure, my life is half over. Aren’t I supposed to be having a crisis now? I said this to a friend the other day and his reply was, “You are. You quit your job and came back to school.” If that’s so, well, it’s kind of tame, isn’t it. No Harley or leather jacket or tattoo or anything. Oh well. Such is me.

There are many regrets, of course. How could there not be when I sin like I do? But I’m not dwelling on them. Mostly today I’ve been thinking about the Lord’s kindness and mercy to me despite all of those things. I’ve been praying for the coming years: that God would help me shake off the burdens and redeem the years I’ve lost and make me fruitful as his follower (to the praise of His glory).

The following song really sums up how I feel right now. It both looks forward to the end and aims for what might be accomplished in the interim. It’s very others-focused. [listen]

The Invisible Choir by Kris Delmhorst

lyrics adapted from: George Eliot, “The Choir Invisible“

Oh may I join that invisible choir
I want to join that invisible choir
Made of those sweet immortal voices
That lift our hearts up higher

Oh may I reach the heaven most high
I want to reach that heaven most high
And be a little star a shining
In someone’s darkest night

———————————

¹Psalm 90: A PRAYER OF MOSES, THE MAN OF GOD

1 Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.
2 Before the mountains were brought forth,
    or ever you had formed the earth and the world,
    from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

3 You return man to dust
    and say, “Return, O children of man!”
4 For a thousand years in your sight
    are but as yesterday when it is past,
    or as a watch in the night.

5 You sweep them away as with a flood; they are like a dream,
    like grass that is renewed in the morning:
6 in the morning it flourishes and is renewed;
    in the evening it fades and withers.

7 For we are brought to an end by your anger;
    by your wrath we are dismayed.
8 You have set our iniquities before you,
    our secret sins in the light of your presence.

9 For all our days pass away under your wrath;
    we bring our years to an end like a sigh.
10 The years of our life are seventy,
    or even by reason of strength eighty;
    yet their span is but toil and trouble;
    they are soon gone, and we fly away.
11 Who considers the power of your anger,
    and your wrath according to the fear of you?

12 So teach us to number our days
    that we may get a heart of wisdom.
13 Return, O Lord! How long?
    Have pity on your servants!
14 Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love,
    that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.
15 Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,
    and for as many years as we have seen evil.
16 Let your work be shown to your servants,
    and your glorious power to their children.
17 Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us,
    and establish the work of our hands upon us;
    yes, establish the work of our hands!
(English Standard Version)

After the view of the falls, the overnight trail crosses Fall Creek over a wooden bridge. It’s cool looking down with the rushing water only feet below. A little disorienting. Rhododendrons grow along the banks and overhang the water. Here’s a picture looking straight down:

Afterwards, it’s another half mile or so to get back to the Nature Center. Just prior to that there’s another view of Cane Creek Falls from the opposite side of the basin. Here’s a small waterfall I could barely see before, Rockhouse Falls (125′):

And here’s a view of Cane Creek Falls again:

After that, another suspension bridge across Cane Creek, another mile of walking, and I was back at the van for the trip home. It’s always good to be going home after a trip to the woods. It makes you remember the comforts of home with a little more appreciation after being without them, even if it’s only for a night or two. So in honor of going home:

You can see an aerial view of the sites of the pictures on Flickr by clicking on the map link beneath each picture.
 

See all my pictures from this trip.
 

Well, I finally got there: the namesake of the park: Fall Creek Falls. The water was going much better then the first time I was there.

The trail from Piney Creek Falls was just as dull as the one that led to it and suffered from the same downed trees and general blahness. The overnight trail borders a road for a while and then crosses it twice before reaching a view of the falls that is off to the right of the main parking area. To see it from the main observation point I had to leave to trail to the left. All the pictures below are from that observation point. There is a trail that leads from this observation point down to the base of the falls. I was too tired at that moment to follow it on this trip. But, I hope you enjoy the pictures I did get…

A wide-angle view of the falls:

A little more narrow view:

Some detail shots:

See all my pictures from this trip.

The ascent from Cane Creek was not quite as steep as the descent to the creek. That was good. My cardio health is not all that great, so the uphill sections are always more challenging. The path wound around and through and over entire fields of large boulders. Many of them had been moved and positioned into a kind of rough staircase. Thankfully, the way throughout was really well marked so I didn’t get lost.

The trees in this area, for the most part, didn’t have leaves yet. But the grey of the bark and limbs set off some other amazing colors:

This picture gives some vague idea of what the trail was like:

After scrambling to the top of the bluff I walked through more of the type of forest I’d seen on the first day. This section was somewhat dull, to be honest. There were many downed trees that had fallen across the path. And the sound of water vanished as I moved away from Cane Creek.

It wandered back and forth — southwest, east, west, southeast — until I eventually arrived at another suspension bridge. This one was longer than the first and spanned across the gorge with Piney Creek at the bottom. The sound of the water was really great. Here’s a picture from before I got on the bridge:

From the middle looking up Piney Creek:

Looking back the way I’d come:

Around the corner from the bridge the sound of the water rushing trebled. It really got loud. And I kept getting glimpses of Piney Creek Falls through small gaps in the trees. So my expectations were really high. But when I got to the overlooks of the falls, both were really kind of blocked by trees. It was a bit disappointing to be honest. Here is the clearest view that I could find:

I spent a great deal of time here trying to find a better view. Unfortunately I never did. I wished there was a trail to the base. There probably was and I missed it.

See all my pictures from this trip.

I got a really early start the next morning because I knew I had a really long way to go that day — at least nine miles from what the park ranger had told me. I had woken up with the sun and and started moving around before it was very bright. But soon the sky welcomed me with a nice colorful dawn. I was on my way before 7:30 AM, but not before a couple of pain killers for my muscle. I went really slowly during that first section until they kicked in.

There was one really interesting “tree” that I noticed as I walked. It was really the dead stump of a tree that had broken off about seven or eight feet above the ground. I caught it out of the corner of my eye as I was walking along and immediately had to do a double-take. It looked exactly like a person in horrible pain and grief, with mouth gaping wide and one arm thrown over the eyes, weeping. It’s hard to explain how that popped into my mind all in a flash like that. I was reminded instantly of the ent Treebeard in J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings stories, grieving over the loss of his trees.

Do you see what I’m talking about here:

Soon after seeing that, the trail took a decided turn… straight down. It got really steep as it went down toward the creek. Just before, I got a view across the valley. Spring was on it’s way:

The views across the valley got more scarce the further down the bank I went. But the sound of the creek below me got louder and louder. I’m not sure why the sound of water running over rapids is so soothing. But I walked in constant anticipation of seeing them around each turn.

Soon I came upon a suspension bridge that spanned the water below (the first of several that day). I’m not usually afraid of heights, but when it got bouncy it got a little nerve-wracking. Here’s the view as I approached:

And here’s the view looking back:

It was really beautiful here, and I wish I could have stayed longer. But I still had a long way to go and the dreaded uphill trek was just ahead of me. So, I reloaded my water bottle, thanked God the pain killers had started working, shouldered my pack and kept going.

See all my pictures from this trip.

I parked the car and got on the trail somewhere around 2:00 in the afternoon. I didn’t have very far to go to get to the campsite (only about 3 miles according to the ranger). I had two choices, actually: there was a second site that was about 6 miles down the trail. But this one had access to water… and I tweaked a muscle in the first mile, so the closer one definitely won out.

There really wasn’t much to see in this first leg of the trip. The foliage still hadn’t emerged on the hardwoods and there were many fallen trees. But some of the colors were great. I really liked these two, one of moss and one of a small creek:

And this one gives some idea of what the trail was like:

After trudging along with my tweaked muscle, I finally made it across a small creek and up a short incline to the campsite. I think it took me about two hours to go my three miles. Like I mentioned the other day: Really out of shape. The muscle didn’t help either.

So I went around gathering wood for my campfire. I’m not sure why, but the campfire is always one of the highlights of the camping trip. Without it there’s not much reason to stay up past sunset, and that’s usually around 8:00 (or earlier in the winter).

After I had amassed a nice quantity I went back down the incline to the the creek a couple of times and got water for cooking and for drinking. Then I got out my food, my pots and pans and stove, and my… and my… (sigh) no lighter or matches. I assumed it was with my stuff when I moved it to Louisville, but I must have taken all that stuff out when I put my pack in the apartment building.

No worries, I thought. I’ll just start a fire à la Tom Hanks in Castaway. I’ll get some nice dry wood and brush, make that little crack for air to get in, and start rubbing two sticks together. Easy. Well, an hour later I was a very different, more frustrated person. It just doesn’t seem to work like in the movies (surprise).

So I faced the prospect of no campfire and mere pop-tarts for supper (instead of smoked salmon in parmesan pasta). I wasn’t very happy. But, instead of giving up completely, I decided to start searching the campsite in case someone had inadvertently left a match lying around. Well, I didn’t find a match… I found a lighter! I was never so happy to see litter at a campsite! My campfire and dinner plans were back on.

Can’t you see how happy I am in this picture?

No really. I am happy. Campfires just make me pensive. You’re alone with your thoughts and there’s really not much happening in the fire. So what was I thinking about?

1/ I was thinking about how nice it was to be in the woods and away from everything.

2/ I was thinking about finding that lighter. It was my own sorry fault for not checking my gear before I left home. I had no reason to expect to find a lighter. I actually deserved to be disappointed with no campfire or hot dinner. But that’s not what happened. Despite what I deserved, I got a blessing that I didn’t even ask for. I don’t want to overspiritualize this, but it greatly reminded me of God and what he does for me everyday. I don’t deserve the many blessings he showers on me (sunshine, health, family and friends, purpose, his Word, food, drink, and a hundred other things). I don’t even ask for most of them. How ungrateful I really am! I wish I could say that I found the lighter after I had uttered some amazing prayer of faith and expected God to provide for me. But that isn’t really what happened. I didn’t say that prayer, although I should have. I should ask God to show me his good blessings. And I should thank him for them when they arrive and give him the glory for them. I don’t want that to sound like some kind of prosperity gospel. The point is not that I get a bunch of stuff, but that God gets a bunch of glory for his providence. And that can be as simple as finding a little stick of butane in the middle of the woods.

Also passing through my mind was how like salvation this little event happened to be. I had been working and working, rubbing two sticks together to try to make a fire. But it didn’t happen. No matter how hard I worked it wasn’t going to happen. Fire was impossible for me with sticks. But God gave fire when I stopped trying to work for it and looked for his provision. Salvation is like that. We can’t earn it. We can only accept it as a gift from him. That was greatly encouraging.

3/ Why didn’t I bring marshmallows? Maybe that’s why I look so dour. Okay, I didn’t really think that at the time. I was pretty happy with my thoughts.

See all my pictures from this trip.