The Kingdom belongs to such as these Part II

Here is the second half of my hike onto the wilderness of the San Gabriel mountain range last month. Such a powerful time. I pray that this story inspires you to go out an meet God.

Meeting God

I had not intention of rock climbing this day do I set off to the east. Having spied a curious fireplace and stone chimney in the middle of a weed covered plain, I wanted to see what this was all about. I hiked across the plain and ran out of trail. The challenge now was to go down across the plain blazing my own trail. Knowing that this is the home of wild animals, poisonous spiders and snakes I quickly changed into hiking boots for the rest of the journey.

I traversed several hundred yards of uneven weed covered ground and in the midst of this time the Lord came to me. It was a gentle sense that came upon me that as much as I was enjoying this time with him he was with me. He made me to love the out doors he made me to experience the wonder of exploration. It was as if he was encouraging me onward into this journey of discovery. He brought to mind a verse from Mark 10:14.

Let them come to me for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these.

The Lord had shared with me his delight at seeing how the child in me found such wonder in this journey to be with him.

A Lone Chimney

I arrived within two hundred yards of the chimney only to find my path blocked by a trench. Recent rains had carved a ten foot deep and six foot wide chasm in the earth. It would be stupid to jump and even dumber to try to climb down and up its sheer sides. I set off to find an easier crossing. About five hundred yards downhill I found a spot where the chasm had broadened out, this provided a much shallower crossing. I jumped across and hiked back up the other side. This may seem rather inconsequential but by then I was over two hours into this hike chilled to the bone and 40 hours into my fast, climbing back up the slope was not something I wanted to do. Curiosity and wonder on this trip would be indulged.

I do not know still what to make of the fireplace. I could imagine it the hearth of an early settler to the area. I could imagine it being built by a grape farmer to ward off the chill of an early morning in his vineyard. I could imagine many a story of what this was. The facts though said that it was a solitary fireplace built of river rock and mortar. It was elevated from the ground though erosion could have made it only appear so. There was no foundation around it for a building of any sort. Could this have been built for camp outs? I don’t think so for the imprint of rafters and joists were clear in the mortar above the fire place. This used to be a building but what?

Again I prayed, perhaps this fireplace was a witness to something I would never know. Perhaps it was simply a signpost for me on my journey and I would know no more of it. I prayed for the saints, I prayed for those who stood up and were persecuted for Christ. I praised my Heavenly Father.

Rivers of Living Water

I continued on east, traversing the slope. I found a trail again and the going was easier yet not easy. I listened to the wind cutting through the hill across the plain and could almost here God whispering to me. After some time the ground once again became familiar and as it did so I recalled a sight on this part of the slope that had previously captivated me.

This area is truly a desert. We get only a few inches of rain per year mostly in January-February. What captivated me was that in the fall I found a mountain stream cutting through a deep valley. From the time I first saw it I knew I must visit it and today was the day.

Worship

I reached the edge of the valley and surveyed the scene below. From where I stood to the valley floor was a drop of about 100 feet, relatively steep and covered with small trees. A hike down would be difficult perhaps but not impossible. I climbed down extremely carefully. To fall and be injured in this place could mean a not so silent night amongst the stars. I reached the bottom climbed across the rocks to the stream. I remain amazed at the beauty of nature that our Lord has provided. A cold mountain stream cutting into a barren desert waste land, how could this be? Regardless I found a spot beside the cool waters and sat down. I soaked in Gods majesty in this beautiful place. I pulled out my bible and began to read in earnest. There were three psalms that came immediately to mind 121, 23 and 46. I read each aloud carefully and slowly, soaking in each word as I did so. I read from Revelation 22 about streams of living water and then I prayed. This was my worship session, such a powerful time with the lord. I played Jeremy Camp’s Empty Me and Chris Tomlin’s Strength Will Rise then I prayed again.

I praised my Heavenly Father in song, in prayer and in silence and wonder. I praised him for the beauty of this place. Before I left I took a page out of the Old Testament. I stepped across the stream and upon a large rock I set up a small monument to my Heavenly Father. Four stones, a large flat stone with a pile of two atop each other on one end and a single stone on the other. For here I met God and sat at his feet.

I will return to this place sometime soon. Will the monument be there? Perhaps, perhaps not, what will be there though is the image in my heart of the day the Lord and I met and went for a hike together in his wilderness.

Father thank you

Thank you for meeting me

Thank you for watching over me

Thank you for guiding my fast, for honoring my desire to meet you

Thank you for revealing to me our shared love of your creation

Thank you for being my father

Thank you for being

I know that you are God

Thank you for helping me to be still long enough to find you

Thank you for streams of living water

For life in a seemingly dead place

For safety in a dangerous land

Thank you father

In your son’s victorious name I pray

Amen

The Kingdom belongs to such as these

Today I want to share with you a story of obedience and hope. What began as a simple urging to fast and pray for my wife and children turned into so much more, so very much more. In this post I will share the first half of my journey to meet the Lord in the mountains.

A Hike

It was two Saturdays ago. I asked my brothers in my men’s group “Have you ever felt the urge to get away and pray for an extended time? Half a day in the wilderness, I feel called to go on a hike to be with God and pray.” In these moments I felt a sense of self consciousness come over me. I love these guys, they are like brothers, I did not want to appear self righteous, I did not want to seem better than them. Actually I know that they are in many ways my betters in the faith. My question came from a sincere and vulnerable place. I had never felt this urge before and pondered if they had.

Their answers were non specific; they talked of seasons of prayer for specific causes, for the need of prayer lists, even good books on prayer life. As happens to me from time to time, their answers seemed fuzzy and missed the heart of my question. I came away feeling like they had not answered me at all. Had they never felt this urge? Did I word the question in an unclear manner? I do not know. What I did know was that I had an odyssey to plan.

Planning the Trip

I chose the day carefully, December 27^th. Far enough after Christmas to be uncomplicated yet prior to the weekend when my couples small group had an event planned. The most significant activity to plan and execute was the 24 hour fast prior to the hike. This had to be entered into prayerfully and with commitment. I love to eat I knew that only for God would I forgo eating. The fast was hard. Taking my mind off of eating was very challenging especially with Christmas leftovers sitting temptingly in the fridge. When the urge to eat became unbearable I would bow my face and pray. Each time I did so the Lord granted my temporary relief from the hunger gnawing at my belly.

The day began innocent enough. I packed a backpack with hiking boots, frozen (the night before) water bottles, nutrition drinks (just in case), my cell phone (emergency use only), my ipod (with a vast array of Christian music), the book Restored (Neil Anderson) and most importantly my Bible.

A Cold Winter Wind

I was dressed in layers to ward off the early morning chill and what I expected to be breezy conditions on the south side of the San Gabriel Mountains, I would not be disappointed. I walked the two mile distance to the edge of suburbs to the start of the North Etiwanda preserve. Those who have read my posts will know this is the place I ride my mountain bike and go to pray often. I listened to Restored the whole way thanks to Brian Hardin who read the book as part of his podcast ministry Daily Audio Bible. Mr. Anderson’s book is excellent and a must read for Christians at any stage of their walk. I stopped to pray often as the hike up is intense, a great primer for what was to come.

The early part of the hike was to retrace the path of my mountain bike rides. I stopped and prayed at my normal bike ride place. I continued on to the site of my private worship session when I was promoted a few months back and prayed again. Then onto the areas I had not yet covered. There is a high plateau in the hills just before the actual mountains that can be seen from anywhere in the city. It is unremarkable except that there are two mature Pine trees standing sentinel over it. It is such a contrast to see deep green pine tress in a sea of scorched brown hill side. For the entire 7.5 years I have lived here I have considered hiking to this place, all the while imagining that God himself would meet me there. The hike was hard straight up no breaks other than those I took. True to form there was a strong cold gusting wind working against me the whole way up. The fast I had been on was now taking its toll digging into energy reserves I did not know I had. Yet I soldiered on believing that God would meet me on this plateau.

It was both distressing and fascinating to see the hand of man on this hillside. I had expected pristine hardly touched landscape but instead found spent shotgun shells, broken beer bottles, and random debris scattered along the worn out trail. At one point I saw an old Dodge Van used as target practice. I rusted hulk riddled with the blast holes of gunfire.

A Plateau but not a Peak

I arrived at the plateau with a sense of jubilation. Now I will pray, now the Lord will meet me. Funny how things worked out, this was the most underwhelming part of the trip. I said a prayer but felt that although God was with me he had something else planned. So I took a break, took some photos and took in the view of the inland empire stretching our before me. It was quite a sight but this place was not to be the highlight of the trip.

I continued onward and upward, I hiked up till I ran out of trail and the very mountain range was upon me. The wind here was bitterly cold and the sweat off my back soaked my cloths turning into a chill to the bone.

I will post the rest of the story of this wonderful trip in a few days.

In the meantime I wish everyone a happy and blessed new year

May our Heavenly Father bless you richly and be with you always throughout this coming year

Ron