Yesterday was exactly 4 months to the day since I about killed myself hiking.
I would like to say I am fully healed and that all is normal. Spiritually speaking I have been fully healed since that day. As I said before the presence of God was so clear in the hours following my accident that I knew I was healed. Funny thing though my ankle did not get the memo. The first six weeks were difficult to say the least. Somewhere around 10 weeks I realized I was “almost” normal again. This despite all my wise friends and colleagues saying it might never heal fully. Yeah thanks I would say. I started working out in week 10 and have been doing so now for 6 weeks. I feel alive and strong. Energy levels climbing by the day. Still though my ankle did not get the memo. A missed placed step and a dull shooting pain was my reward. A stretch of a joint that just won’t go as far as it used to…
Throughout this ordeal I wanted to live the wisdom “if you fall get right back up and try again”. I desperately wanted to go back up the mountain and thank God for my deliverance. I wanted to run the dirt and rock through my hand in the spot I fell. I wanted to see the blood stains in the ground where I came to rest. I wanted to retrace my steps as God carried me out of that place. The desire to return was overwhelming. Only thing is I knew that I could not too early, I had to be fit and strong.
My wife and friends wanted me to take a friend, they wanted me to play it safe. Common sense sure, wise advice certainly, but is that the way of a real man? How could I go back into Gods country with a safety net?! No this was a journey I had to take alone.
I decided to ride my mountain bike up there this time. I had always wanted to do so in the past but was not fit enough for the cardio beating it took to do so. I have no friends capable of this ride and only a few acquaintances who could and they just would not get the significance of the ride so I rode it alone.
I got to within half a mile before I had to walk. Travelling off-road up a mountain trail for over five miles will wear you down like no other workout I know, it just never ends. As I approached the mound I was stunned. You see I had secretly begun to think I has exaggerated its size. No it could not have been over 40 feet high. It was higher, at least 60! It was not that steep, yes it was. I climbed that thing?!
I stared at it awestruck at how blessed I was to have been delivered from this. Even though I had returned to the spot I had fallen I felt this strange urge upward. Should I? You must, a voice inside me responded, closure awaits. So I climbed back up the slope I ran down just four months earlier. I got to the top and praised God for my deliverance, thanked him for his grace. Then I began to climb down.. again…
Father thank you
there are no words to describe the depth of my gratitude for what you did for me that day
Thank You
