At the end of May, 2020, I was in the worst shape of my life. My daughter, Hannah, had just passed away.  I was mentally, emotionally, and physically wiped out. I hadn't taken care of myself.  I felt very much like Tolkien's beloved Bilbo who said, "I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread."

After she passed, I rested for about a day and a half. Some dear friends brought by some healthful tabouli, a splendid Middle Eastern salad. It awakened a longing and hunger to feel better. I was ready to make changes. Two days after she passed, I went hiking with my wife and son. It was a slow, contemplative hike through the woods. It felt liberating and free. The heaviness of  grief was lightened as I walked through the woods. This was the same time the world had shut down because of Covid, so the three of us just kept hiking all over West Virginia. 

The most challenging hike in those early days, probably three weeks after Hannah's passing, was up the North Fork Mountain Trail to Chimney Rock. It was a steep vertical climb of a couple of thousand feet. The last quarter mile was brutal. Switchbacks eventually made way to rock scrambles on all fours. While my son scurried up like a squirrel, I had to stop and rest every few steps near the top. We eventually arrived to witness an absolutely stunning and panoramic view of the northeastern West Virginia highlands.

As a hiker, I have observed that life is very much like a hike. The trail is always changing. It is good to prepare. Sometimes we walk alone. The more you hike, the better you get at it. And perhaps most importantly, the journey is more important than any particular view or specific goal you may have had in mind when setting out to hike.

Looking back at that North Fork Mountain Trail hike, as well as many others, some of the memories that stand out the most have nothing to do with the destination. Along the routes to the destination you see cool rock formations, unexpected woodland flowers, creatures scurrying about, and perhaps have meaningful conversations with friends. Sometimes, I can sense the presence of God in a most intimate way.

Most of us are busy -- too busy if we are quite honest. From taking care of family responsibilities, health concerns, jobs, homes, yards, meetings, taxes, and on and on. On top of all those kinds of things, many of us also volunteer for our local church or a charitable organization. Some of us don't have time to volunteer, so we choose to make financial contributions. The pressure mounts because we feel like we don't do enough. There is always more. This kind of thinking must stop. 

I even knew a guy who was very generous in giving, but felt guilty because he wasn't on the front line of mission work. I explained to him that donors are like the people at the top of the cliff who ensure ropes are in place and fastened while the climbers or rapellers make their ascents and descents. They are like the military medics, mechanics, and supply personnel who make it possible for the soldiers on the front lines to accomplish their part of the missions. They are just as important to the mission as the front line soldiers. It's like the apostle Paul's crop analogy in 1 Corinthians 3 when he wrote that some plant, some water, but God gives the increase.

We all have a role.

Do you ever wonder if you are making a positive impact with your service? Do you ever write a check and drop it in the mail and wonder if that money has a real impact for the kingdom? Have you ever volunteered for a charity or church and wondered if your time was worth it? Have you ever felt like your role in God's big plan has been underwhelming? I know that I have. But in recent years, I've gained a more mature perspective about all this.

I try to make it my personal goal to be a good steward of my time and resources. This one life that I have to live is not my own. I belong to Another. Keeping that truth in mind is a good starting point. Having this attitude is like having the right equipment and mindset at the trailhead. I pray about my efforts and keep reminding myself to not spread myself too thin, to avoid being like "butter scraped over too much bread" (for a Tolkien reference).  I can only do a certain number of things well. If I go beyond that threshold, the quality of my work suffers, my stress levels go up, and my health is impacted. We all have to learn to pace ourselves for the journey. While the threshold of "too much" may be different for each one of us, we need to be honest with ourselves in identifying where that is and learn to relax a bit more and trust God. 

If you feel stretched thin these days or a bit discouraged with the results you see in your life, be encouraged. Focus on the small positives you see.  We learned in early math classes that the sum of a lot of small units can reach significant heights. Be faithful and prayerful in your service and then leave the results up to God. After all, it is He that brings the increase. 

Whether you take walks in the woods like I do, or have some other activity that helps you to decompress and enjoy life, be sure you make time for that too. The hundreds of hikes I've done in the last five years and transformed my mind and soul. Each hike was accomplished with many individual steps taken at a sustainable pace.

The kingdom of God is not depending on you to be built. God will take care of that with or without you. You are just being asked to be faithful, keeping in mind, that each step of the journey is significant. If you can just keep taking one step after another, you are making progress. Don't obsessed with your impact. You will one day finish the race and likely realize that your role in God's big plan was more significant that you could have imagined.

"But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God" (Acts 20:24).