“This porridge is too hot. This porridge is too cold. This porridge is juuuuust right.”

Maybe it’s the lack of bear activity I saw on the trail that brings the three bears’ dilemma to mind (I’m still not over it). Or maybe it was Goldilocks’ uncertainty that told her things weren’t quit right as she was testing her new-found porridge. That persistence kept her questioning whether there was something better. And with certainty, she found it.

Once Goldilocks found that perfect temperature to her liking, she grabbed that porridge and ‘ate it all up’. (See my previous reference to eating a package of Oreos while sitting in a Walmart and you’ll get the face-shoveling visual).

She did the same with the chairs and the beds of the three bears. She tried-on each version for size until she found the right one that fit her and was the best for her.

Was she being picky? Maybe.

Was she choosing the best for herself? Most likely.

Was she stealing? Absolutely.

Regardless, we’re always in search of that ‘just right’ in our lives, aren’t we? It’s a comfortable place we all long to be. If only it was the matter of hot or cold breakfast choices and not how we view ourselves in our own eyes and the eyes of others.

If we can focus on what’s best for us- God’s best for us, then we wouldn’t let others’ opinions get in the way of telling us otherwise.

I’ve received so many amazing compliments and encouragements since completing the trail and during my travels. But, there have also been counters to the opposite. The same is true for our everyday lives. For everything good we do or think we’re getting right, there will always be someone saying we’re doing it all wrong, could be doing it better or we’re just flat-out falling short. We can’t win with people.

They’ll come out of the woodwork to point out our flaws, but stay silent when their encouragement is needed the most.

Just visit any number of hiker groups on Facebook. For every two people that agree with your opinion, there will be seven that disagree.

And politics? Whoa, buddy.

Add a dash of my own insecurities and I’ve got a recipe designed to lead me on a path filled with confusion, anxiety and self-hate that the enemy loves to fuel.

Many times, I feel I’m either too much this or not enough that.

It’s Goldilocks’ hot vs. cold situation.

These encounters tend to tug-of-war at my heart.

A rope tied to my left arm pulls me towards the hot (too much) side that says I’m an over achiever; I have something to prove or I’m just showing off.

The rope tied to my right arm says I’m cold (not enough) and I’m missing the mark by a landslide or I feel overshadowed by someone doing it better.

What do I mean? The words I hear, whether spoken or implied, swing back and forth in my head until I create something negative out of all the positive. Here are some examples of the hot vs. cold that I’ve experienced:

You’re hiking too fast and not experiencing the trail|You can’t keep up

You don’t work enough|You don’t make time for this or that

You’re really quiet| You share too much

Hiking alone was brave|Going alone was stupid

You made wise decisions out there|That’s not what a famous hiker says to do

You forgive too easily|Your standards are too high

You’re too religious| You missed an opportunity to share your faith

You should care about your appearance|Who are you trying to impress?

It took courage to leave your career| You’re wasting your skills

You don’t let your personality show| You’re being dramatic

You’re a stick in the mud| You’re emotional

You’re a holier-than-thou-do-gooder| Why can’t you do more to help?

You’re lazy| You have too much on your plate

You’re not prettier, smarter, more devout, more educated, have a better job, are stronger or funnier than they are

Do you feel like you’re constantly being tugged in two different directions? It’s exhausting, isn’t it?

I choose to share my experiences with the intended desire that someone might relate and get some comfort, motivation and hope. I want to be a witness to what the Lord can do with a broken life. In doing so, I also set myself up for scrutiny.

Why do I allow the words and opinions of others determine my worth, my subsequent actions and my identity? I am so, so guilty of this. Words can cut me deep, but actions, or the lack there of, cut me deeper.

I’m a people pleaser, but don’t think for a second I’m innocent and have never said similar cutting words or treat people poorly. I avoid confrontation at all costs because of this fact. I aim to be friends with everyone, but boy, do I fail.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all live and love in harmony in a perfect feel-good world?

That place ain’t here, folks.

The problem with this utopian idea, is that others don’t always reciprocate with how we want to be treated. It leaves me feeling like I’m constantly pouring into people, while I hold an empty porridge bowl.

Over time, that emptiness can turn to bitterness, which can lead to self hatred.

All those things they said? Well, they must be true about me, because I’m standing here alone, hungry for reciprocated love and empty-handed.

It’s a serious problem I have. Am I the only one that feels this tug-of-war?

I can’t imagine how Jesus felt: Constantly loving, pouring, giving, healing and teaching. And being denied over and over again. I’m sure it saddened Him, but He kept on lovin’ anyway.

God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.

~Hebrews 6:10

I promise, the Lord will bless you tremendously as you continue to put others before yourself.

Despite the lack of reciprocation, we’re called to keep fighting the good fight, keep pourin’ and keep lovin’, even when we feel like we’ve hit the bottom of the bowl and have nothing left to give.

So, keep pourin’…

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people…

~Galatians 6:9-10

…and keep lovin’.

This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers.

~1 John 3:16

And when we’ve been hurt, let’s forgive ’em.

Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.

~Colossians 3:13

We live in a world that looks for validation at every turn. Validation in our jobs, our education, our relationships, our goals, our appearance, the way you raise your kids, and even in the church. We need someone to say “You’re doing ok at this thing called life. You’re getting it done the right way.”

We want positive feedback that makes us feel supported, comforted and loved.

More often then not, what we get is the hot vs. cold version and rarely feel like we’ve hit it spot on and ‘just right’.

As Christians, we should get our validity from Christ alone.

Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ.

~Galatians 1:10

Raise your hand if you’re shooting 100% from the field in this area.

Anyone?

It’s a constant cognitive fight for me.

Do you know how desperately I wanted validation after my divorce? Goodness, I craved it. I thought the only way I’d feel complete was to hear a man say there was nothing wrong with me; that I was worthy; that I was wanted; that I was enough; that he would never leave; that being divorced didn’t mean I was less of a contender for love.

Eventually, I’d get some of those words of affirmation spoken to me. But, words come and go. They’re so lovely to hear, but I felt no different. No matter how many times these words could’ve been played on repeat, they held no substance. I didn’t feel complete. It meant nothin’.

But, Jesus’ words? Those words mean somethin’.

No…they mean everything.

Because our gospel came to you not simply with words, but also with power, with the Holy Spirit and with deep conviction.

~1 Thessalonians 1:5

Not just words, but power with the Holy Spirit.

Those words tell me who I am. Who He says I am.

It’s both powerful and sad when you realize your worth in Christ. Powerful, because you understand there’s nothing that can stand against you when you’re living a Christ-centered life. Sad, because you recognize how many people didn’t see your worth all along the way.

Most likely, when you start setting boundaries of how you want to be treated (how Christ sees and treats you) you’ll see those people disappear on their own. If they can’t control and use you anymore, they have no use for you. What’s left, are the good ones that had your best interest at heart all along. Hold tight to those amazing people!

Listen, it’s a guarantee that people will hurt you. They’ll say and do things, take advantage of your kindness, forget you, leave you out, reject you, forsake you and make you feel dried up, washed out and old news.

Jesus was cast aside, rejected and betrayed by the ones closest to Him. But, He still loved them, prayed for them and never stopped longing for a relationship with them.

We can be easily derailed by the master of confusion- a title that belongs to the enemy. We get enticed into worry; that tugging and pulling at us; the whispers of lies about who we are. Before you know it, we’re all discombobulated with doubt and fear and anger and resentment and everything that Jesus is not.

Christ is peace, hope, love and joy. Not chaos.

I get tricked into believing the perfect utopia I desire, exists in this life. So, when I’m lonely, feeling rejected and that final straw of being hurt- yet again, leaves me wondering why I even try, I remember there’s a promise written in blood and the unmatched, power-filled example that Jesus showed us.

Now, imagine for a moment the worst betrayal you’ve ever experienced. And right-smack-dab in the middle of that turmoil, hand your life over for that very person that caused you pain.

That is what Jesus did for us.

I long to have that kind of forgiveness, mercy and grace that Jesus willingly gave.

Is that something you would do? Yikes… I have a long way to go to honestly say I’d do the same for people that despise me.

But, He did that for us.

Those power-filled words He spoke weren’t just hollow words and empty promises. They were followed by action.

As I mentioned, hurtful actions cut me deep. But, what Jesus did is the remarkable, redeeming side of action. That literal deep-cutting act of love- That validates us.

Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.

~John 15:13

Not only His friends, but He did it for those that hated and tortured Him and that were actively sinning and would continue to do so in the future.

…Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

~ Romans 5:6-8

Words are easy, but can be empty.

Let us not love with words but with actions and in truth.

~ 1 John 3:18

Action, in response to promised words, is Truth.

In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

~James 2:17

We can make promises, plans and intentions left and right, but until there is action, paired with those words, do we believe it to be true?

Through Jesus’ actions, an incredible amount of substance is added to who He says I am. No one can come close to that validation because Jesus paid that unequaled price.

Through all my hurt, all my success and all my shortcomings, He earned that honor to say who I am.

Not a stranger hiding behind a computer screen. Not friends. Not family. Not a man. Not me and my own insecurities.

Jesus said: This is who you are and I love you so much, that I’m going to validate it with my life. (New International Lindsey Version)

That’s a high price to pay to show love.

That’s the kind of validation that’s believable.

Through His gift:

I am enough?

Yes. But, He is enough for me.

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith- and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God- not by works, so no one can boast.

~Ephesians 2:8-9

Hiking 2,000 miles won’t prove that I’m enough. Acts of kindness, giving and words of affirmation won’t prove that. Acknowledging, validating and pouring into others won’t prove that. Listening to others’ opinions about us won’t prove that.

Just being a nice person? Will. Not. Prove. That.

We must have Jesus, so we fully know who we are and can live and serve in His perfect plan for us.

Jesus. On that cross. Bleeding. Tortured. Dying. Sacrificing. Laying down His life?

That validates us. That proves it. And He will never leave.

Finding my identity in Christ and not what others think or say I should be has helped me to find a place that feels just right. It’s a kind of love that encourages the constant pursuit to stay in that perfect-temperature-porridge-spot with Jesus and eat it all up. We shouldn’t be lukewarm as Christians, but have a burning desire for our perfect place in the Lord’s will.

We’re busy listening to our porridge-hungry gut, but we should trust our God when He plainly describes what we mean to Him and what He did to prove it.

This isn’t a fairytale written in a book long ago, but an intentional gift given to each of us.

It was promised. It was personal. It was played-out. It was perfect.

Stop listening to those empty promises and the lack of action that tears at our hearts.

Are you afraid of doing it right or wrong or being too religious or not devoted enough? Or worried what others might think or say about you if you step out alone? Their words are just words; backed by a lack of understanding.

What’s keeping you from ‘believing in that silly stuff’? Did a Christian hurt you? Have you witnessed the hypocrisy? Do you wonder where God was through all the bad stuff and if He’s so powerful, why hasn’t He shown up to fix it? Do you see it just as random words in a book? Allow those words to come alive, answer those hard questions and take action in your heart.

Did you grow up in the church and had such a bad experience that it turned you away from religion? Let me tell ya, it has nothing to do with religion and everything to do with your personal relationship. Worshipping, learning, and serving in fellowship with other believers as the body of Christ is so important, but the most influential pastor can’t give you a meaningful relationship with Jesus. Not your parents, your spouse, your friends, your congregation, me or even the person you respect the most in this world.

It’s all about you and Jesus.

It’s about a relationship with the One who calls you enough and the One that will never leave once you invite Him to stay. And will never stop pursuing you if you ask Him to leave.

Listen to who He says you are and the immense value He placed on you when He gave His life.

Look, I’m not trying to win any Facebook arguments, debate for hours, prove anyone wrong or add a tally to my personal salvation column. We’re called to spread the gospel, so others can be saved; so others will know the freedom that comes with the Good News; so that others will have everlasting life. But, I won’t be cashing-in salvations at heaven’s gate like tokens at Chuck-E-Cheese. There’s no trick or gimmick or any selfish reasons behind my encouragement for you to follow Jesus.

Let me make it simple:

I want you all to know your Christ-given worth and the power that comes with the Holy Spirit.

I truly want joy and peace for all of you that are so weary and desperate for it.

I want you all to know the healing that can come from complete surrender.

Everyday, I see that desperation on the worn-out faces that are looking… for something. But, they don’t know what that something is. We claim to be ‘living our best life’ with the outside facade of happiness, but we’re sad and broken on the inside. If you aren’t living your life with Jesus, I promise you, your ‘best life’ is still waiting for you.

I relate and recognize that brokenness because I was it. Goodness, I know what that weight feels like.

How quick are we to try new outlets to bring us joy, but we’re reluctant to try sitting in the perfect-sized seat of peace.

We let all those burdens overwhelm us, when we have the right-sized bed waiting for us to lay down those burdens and have rest.

When the world says I’ve lost it, I’m doing it wrong and I’ve gone off the religious deep-end to crazy town, I know the power-filled, action-proven Truth. My relationship with Jesus, not my religion and not what others think about me, sustains me.

When I’m standing alone between the extremes of too hot and too cold, I feel ‘just right’ and the perfect fit in the eyes of the One that comforts me with real validation.

When people hurt me, I can choose to look to the Lord for comfort, forgive them and become a picky eater by surrounding myself with those that agree with who He says I am.

…Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

~ Luke 6:37-38

I’m choosing God’s overflowing, perfect porridge for me. Keep giving others the same measure that you want to be given, regardless if we get it in return. You will be blessed.

We need to stop seeking to be fed by others and look to be filled by the power that comes with the Holy Spirit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the end of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, the bears return home to find Goldilocks asleep in bed. When she wakes, she simply yells “help” and runs away.

This was the end of Goldilocks’ story, but what a great way to start our story- with a simple prayer: “Lord, help.” And a desperate run towards a relationship with Him.

You guys, c’mon. Let’s be honest. We really need the help.

We can keep trying, but we can’t do this alone.

Allow God to overfill your porridge bowl and use you for His perfect plan.

This is where true happiness and contentment live. When we’re serving Him, wouldn’t you know it, that’s where our fulfillment is found.

He offers a valid kind of love- a love that is powerful, unique, heart-changing, freeing, reliable and real.

It’s not too hot. Not too cold. Just right.

My tan lines and daily aches and pains have faded. The never-ending grind of: walk, eat, sleep, repeat is now what I miss the most in life.

And the resounding question of how it’d feel to touch that sign and be an honest-to-goodness, real life thru hiker, has now been answered.

The trail flew by too fast. Extremely fast.

I wish I was starting all over again.

I have moments when I’m jolted into the reality of it all- It wasn’t a daydream. It really happened.

Most of the trip is shrouded in fog, just like the first day on Springer Mountain.

I’m so thankful I kept a journal along the way. It surprises me how much I’ve already forgotten.

For instance, on day four of the trail, I wrote:

“Hiker Hunger is really starting to kick in. Sooo hungry!!!!”

Ha! Oh, Lindsey….That’s cute… you have no idea what’s coming for you and how big your desire for food will grow.

In all fairness, most of my entries are about food and a friendly reminder as to why I still can’t eat peanut butter or tortillas. I wrote:

“Peanut butter, jelly, and almond m&m’s on a tortilla?!?! I might be a genius.”

Please excuse me while I gag now…

It was a year ago (February 14, 2018) that I started this life changing journey- a year ago that I signed my name as thru hiker #102 for 2018.

It was before I was Zoom Zoom;

Before I knew what it truly meant to be soaked to the bone;

Before I knew what it was like to eat my body weight in Starbursts;

Before I understood the complete beauty of the trail ahead of me.

I remember the stomach-churning butterflies that day; the excitement to get going; the last minute doubt placed in my head by the shuttle driver; the uncertainty when I weighed my pack; the last minute confidence-building phone call to my dad and the desperate prayer I said just before taking off.

The fear of failing swirled in my head as I climbed the steps at Amicalola Falls, but the peace of knowing I was right where I belonged pushed at my back and kept me climbing- all 600ish steps.

The years leading up to this hike had required so much sacrifice. This dream had been placed on the back burner numerous times and I had doubts I would get the opportunity to attempt it. Looking back, that struggle to get to Amicalola- to go all-in, was what kept driving me throughout the hike. I’d given up so much. How could I quit?

Every inch of the trail represented an obstacle I overcame to get there. Every part of the trail mattered because I sacrificed so much to get the chance.

Not high snow, high emotions or even a high bug-to-human ratio would keep me from crawling to Katahdin.

Interwoven into those sacrifices and determination, I can clearly see God’s plan for me.

That’s the thing about sacrifice. It’s terribly gut wrenching in the moment. You can’t see the future manifested from it yet. It creates panic and reason to ask God: “When? What for? Why me? Why now? Why, Lord, why?” But, the answer received in the future is simple:

“Because, this.”

This Good work being done takes just that…work.

And time, struggle, uncertainty and the capacity to receive it.

“We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us.” ~ Romans 5:3

All that bad stuff creates perseverance, character and hope that opens the door for the unthinkable- to run that race set before us. And win.

Many times I’ve wished I could have done the trail earlier in life. But the truth is, I don’t think I would have finished. I needed those years to learn longing- So much longing to get to Maine.

Those years of waiting developed a deep desperation that I carried with me to reach Katahdin at all costs. In turn, I can look back over events in my life and understand the “When? What for? Why me? Why now? Why, Lord, why?”

It was because I was learning the traits that would lead me to success. Why did all that happen? Because, He was planning this.

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” ~Jeremiah 29:11

Your ‘because, this’ could mean a child after multiple miscarriages or compassion for others after a loved one dies. Your ‘because, this’ could be a successful business after years of struggling financially or the opportunity to live out your dreams after a heartbreak. It could be joy and peace after never ending unhappiness and torment.

Your unique ‘because, this’ is a story others need to hear to motivate them to hold on a little longer too. Share your ‘God moments’ with those around you. Whether they want to hear it or not, maybe it’ll be the jumpstart to notice their ‘because, this’ moments too. It’s uncomfortable at times and hard for me to do, but how can I keep to myself this wonderful Truth that I’ve seen firsthand?

I want you to know what God has done and continues to do in my life. I’ve been through some hard times, but He has used those hard times for good. Even you, who’ve gone through much worse than I- Your victory and comeback story Will. Be. Amazing.

Hold on. It’s coming.

Sometimes it doesn’t take long to see why things happened the way they did. Other times it takes years or even decades. We may never understand in this lifetime.

As believers, when we reach heaven, we’ll see our reward. We’ll have our ‘now I get it’ moment. We won’t have to ask why all that pain; awkwardness; misplacement and longing. Just two words uttered by a familiar face with outstretched hands will explain it all: “Because, this.”

There are many that would say they completed the trail just fine without the guidance of God. And I’m sure this is true. I’ve made plenty of decisions based solely off my desires. Those choices turned out ok. I didn’t die. I completed the task.

But, was there meant to be more? Was it all that it could have been? Did I miss out on the full blessing and experience of what it should have been?

Reality check time:

There were moments on trail when I wasn’t at my best. Despite reg flags and caution tape, I took side trails that led me away from God’s best for me. But, for some unimaginable reason, God loves me anyway and will never turn me away when I come crawling back- damaged and bruised.

Just the opposite. He’s there waiting, tapping his foot and asking if I’m ready to let Him do the hard work now.

There’s definitely something beautiful, special and unique to be said about walking in God’s will. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve experienced it.

You can see Him. You can feel Him moving. It’s effortless.

There’s joy- Pure joy through the hard times.

You can feel His presence and security all around you. The faith you have will drown out any fear. Not even fear of death. Because, let’s face it, heaven will be WAY better than this place.

Peace says everything will be as it should be. There are stumbles and falls and moments of weakness, but also so much Grace to pull you back up on your feet.

All the strength to endure; all the moments I should have been scared; all the times I was alone. There was a greater power working than my own two feet. It’s an experience I hope for all of you to have- A “Whoa, that’s too amazing to be coincidence” moment.

It’s beautiful.

From the most detailed of prayers for my safety to the simplest: “Lord, help” to singing God’s promises at the top of my lungs through the difficult snow, there’s not a chance I could have endured without relying on my faith.

How do you know whether something is God’s will for your life or not? As an immature Christian, I’m still sorting through that question. There’s a lot of doubt and an unnerving feeling of doing the wrong thing- misguided through my own desires.

A good option is to say a I prayer I said over and over in the months and days leading up to my trip. It helped to ease my uncertainty and anxiety:

“Lord, if it’s not Your will, let it slip through my grasp and give me peace to not worry about it.”

The complexity of starting a thru hike didn’t seem all that complex. Everything worked out and fell into place with ease including little things. All of these details would seem like nothing unless you experience them for yourself. It all fits.

My trip seemed like a shock and so last minute to some because I was asking God right up until the arch, to take it away; to end it if I shouldn’t be there. Instead of taking it from my grasp, the Lord blessed me- Enormously.

He went before me; He stood behind. (Deuteronomy 31:8) His protection moved mountains and ultimately got me to Katahdin. All that glory that I’d love to claim as my own- belongs to Him.

So, what’s next?

What do you do when you finally check off that ultimate dream on your life list? How can anything compare to that One. Big. Dream?

I’ve spent a lot of time post trail trying to figure out what’s next for me. After such an accomplishment it’s hard to imagine anything topping my life’s biggest dream.

Figuring it out is an understatement- Panic and anxiety provoking is probably more realistic. I really miss the life I had on the trail and I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged to a place more.

Fighting off depression post trail has been a real thing. It’s hard to find the motivation to work towards something that you can’t see and doesn’t exist in your mind.

The AT was the Ultimate Ice Cream Sundae of them all. In fact, my focus was so set on achieving that goal, I never stopped to think about the after affects of achieving a dream like this. Right now, it doesn’t feel like anything will ever top achieving my first big dream.

I’ve struggled post-trail to come up with a new dream; one that contains the same longing and desperation for achievement; a new passion to work towards. I haven’t found it yet.

After coming off such a high and accomplishment of the AT, it’s easy to get caught up in the desire to do something just as big again. To top it, somehow. To get that rush back. Another thru hike is so tempting to get those feelings of accomplishment back. But, I don’t want to go through the motions just because that’s a familiar happy place.

I find myself back at an all-to-familiar place; a place with no clear direction for my future.

After these months of depression, unanswered prayers and having no sense of belonging, I received an encouraging word:

“Move where you’ve been planted.”

Ok, and how does that make any sense? I immediately get the visual of one of those inflatable air dancers you find at a car lot: Head, arms and body flapping in the breeze, but the base doesn’t move. It’s sturdy and planted.

“So, God, You’re saying you want me to just stand here and Bobble-head my way through life with a big smile on my face and act like everything is perfect?”

“Just be still. Just wait. Remember what I’ve already done.”

I’ve been a big proponent of a call to action-getting after it; making a move; starting in one direction- just doing something.

I stand behind that notion. But, I also believe in times like what I’m experiencing now, it’s important to just be still. To wait. To listen. To use that time to grow.

Maybe this point of my life isn’t about chasing, but standing firm- developing my faith; gaining understanding and wisdom; giving and receiving forgiveness; serving and encouraging others; preparing for the next purpose in my life.

When I can throw my crazy air dancer arms up and say “You deal with this, God, because I’m tired of trying to figure it out”, that’s right where He wants me: fully trusting; fully dependent, but fully planted in His promise.

There’s a song by Elevation Worship called ‘Do It Again’. I’m pretty sure this song was written for me, although I can’t prove it. Each time I hear it, I full-on ugly cry. It reminds me that nothing is too big for Him. And He used me- an unconfident, misplaced, broken person to do it. It makes me overwhelmingly grateful.

“Do It Again” ~Elevation Worship

Near the end of the song, the music builds and the lyrics say:

I’ve seen You move, you move the mountains. And I believe, I’ll see You do it again. You made a way, when there was no way. And I believe, I’ll see you do it again. ~Elevation Worship

I relate so much with these lyrics. Literally and figuratively. Normally, mountains and valleys are used figuratively to describes the highs and lows in life. For me, those mountains were physically overcome as well as finding healing from past hurt and grief. He gave me a comeback when I didn’t see a way out. And when those mountains were steep and strenuous and seemed impossible- He made a way.

And now, in a time when I’m clueless about the future, I can confidently say He’ll do it again.

I’ve seen His work. I’ve seen Him move all of those mountains. And I’ll wait in the valley even when my future looks flat, uneventful; even down right boring at the moment. I believe He has something in store for me and He’ll do it again.

Maybe it’ll be years before I see the results of the action or the lack of action I’m taking now. If I’m planted, unwavering and hold tight to the promise and the hope that’s waiting for me and if I learn those traits that will make me successful in the future, then I’ll be ready to receive it when the time comes. I believe in the future, I’ll fully understand my present uncertainty and hear those amazing, affirming words:

“Because, this.”

Katahdin

There’s a mountain named Katahdin at the end of a long path. She’ll keep you looking forward, never looking back.

Through snow and rain and mud and trials. She’ll lead you onward, counting off the miles.

Not knowing what to expect when I see her face. Years of wonder, leading to this chase.

She calls out to you sharply, urging you forward. Meeting her eyes is what pulls you toward her.

Seeing her beauty is the task at hand. Up on her summit, few will stand.

Getting so close, you’ll hesitate and wait. The fear of the end, impossible to shake.

Step by step and mile by mile. You’ll wait a little longer, stay a little while.

Until the inevitable, there you’ll be. Gazing up at her, standing at her feet.

You’ll climb and stumble and climb some more. Until you reach her peak of grandeur that soars.

Katahdin, your might and beauty stops at nothing. I came to meet you and whisper you something.

You’ve been my dream for years on end. Reaching your summit, my life I’d spend.

Finally I found you, in all your glory. Finishing out this Katahdin story.

Climbing higher and higher, the tears started to form, making it harder to place each step. I could finally see that sign off in the distance: The one I’ve imagined for years. The one I pictured during every tough late-night workout, thought about when I almost made an unnecessary purchase or paid off some debt. The one I talked about, prayed for, fixated on and repeatedly told myself I would conquer ‘someday’. The one that seemed so far away standing on Springer Mountain. Now, it was literally right in front of me.

Katahdin: Just a sign on a really high hill. With each of those tear-filled steps, the flashbacks of this journey came flooding in.

In my search for Katahdin, I found so many things. When I think about this journey, I won’t remember the 2,190.9 miles or the amount of days or months it took to do it. I’ll remember the indescribable views and mainly, the people and the times that we shared.

When I think of Katahdin, I’ll remember:

Hot Sauce’s drawings, eating lunch in the cold/snow/rain under a rock overhang, what can and cannot go through the Green Glass Door, his addiction to Mt. Dew, mad beats and ‘root, rock, root, root, curb’. CPU’s story time, watching him cook, failing at Dutch, learning about windmills, stump drums, rock/stick baseball, tulips and 88 locks of the Netherlands. I’ll remember pig calls with Squirrel, Snicker bars as currency and more talk about poop than I’ve ever had. I’ll think of eating way too much candy with Sweet Treats and a three mile run to McDonalds with Wild Hog. I’ll think of Hot Legs singing Johnny Cash and playing Bob Marley’s ‘Everything’s gonna be alright’ on a freezing morning when everyone needed a spirit boost. I’ll hear Dine ‘n’ Dash’s ukulele playin’, sarcasm, sass and deep, honest conversations. I’ll remember undeniably great dance moves, journal writing, the affects of fart bars and cowboy camping with Mumbles.

Yes, I’ll remember the views and all the beauty of the trail, but I’ll remember the experience of waking up to snow on Max Patch and booking it 20 something miles to town to get dried out. I’ll remember the stars from Mt. Cammerer Fire Tower and the equally bright lights from the town below. I’ll remember Overmountain Shelter when we were all separated along the trail, but somehow ended up at the same place. We scattered our belongings all over the grass and enjoyed the first warm reprieve from the snow in the sun together as a Tramily. I’ll think of Washington, D.C. Man, I’ve never laughed so hard. And the sadness I felt knowing the trail wouldn’t be the same after that. I’ll remember scrubbing dishes with Hungry Cat, Skutch and Apollo at Lake of the Clouds and heading out into the fog the next morning to summit Mt. Washington. I’ll remember daily challenges, the devil’s whisper from deflated sleeping pads, shopping in thrift shops and confessions at the Priest. I’ll remember ‘dance hitch hiking’, eating chips in the rain through Gettysburg and endless references to Lord of the Rings that I didn’t get. I’ll think of the best-worst movie series ever and somehow looking forward to that next Sharknado disaster because it was Just. So. Terrible. I’ll remember Macadamia nuts for days, barely surviving the Smokies and 3am wake up alarms to get to town. I’ll remember the Cloak and Dagger, learning about diddles and RTSTK. I’ll remember ‘Four Walls’, ‘Holy No’s’, and meeting a sleepy stranger in a bus station on the first day of my journey. I’ll remember Pizza Plus, pine cone soccer in the streets and Diarrhea Queens. I’ll miss snake hunting, long naps on the hillside, refreshing dips in numerous lakes, surprise waterfalls and pepper spray gone wrong. I’ll remember crammed hotel rooms, dirty-Gain laundry and getting help from Trail Angels, Trail Jesus and Carrie Underwood takin’ the wheel. I’ll remember the moonrise over the mountain at Nuclear Lake, the sunrise at McAfee Knob and seeing the Washington Monument lit up at night in D.C. I’ll remember chocolate spaghetti, Zen fines and damn dam crossings. I’ll remember Dirtbag Diaries, pounds of Skittles and Starbursts and handstand contests. I’ll remember building snowmen, sleeping in bathrooms and scoring condiment packets. I’ll think of porcupines gnawing on shelters, walking a mile out of the way for a sandwich at a deli and being sat in a different room at a restaurant just because I was a stanky hiker. I’ll remember asking ‘NoBo, SoBo, Flip-Flop, Section, Day, AT, LT?’. I’ll remember coffee, lots of it and waiting hours for hot dog stands to open. I’ll remember the excitement for state lines, hitting fart walls, talking to squirrels, super hero poses and aiming for 21 second urinations. I’ll remember the Zoom Zoom cinema, Disney music singin’ and making plans for The Dutch Oven Hostel. I can’t forget my first impressions from dining and dashing and headlight strobe parties in the shelter. I’ll hear the sound of Rivers and Hot Legs playing the guitar, the taste of Mexican food from a gas station, back-up dancing with Dine ‘n’ Dash, non-serious 100 mile marker photos and eating blueberries on mountain tops. I’ll remember raspberry pickin’, waterfall searchin’ and moose huntin’ at my HoME away from home. I’ll quote Thomas Jefferson from the privy walls, cringe at the thought of poop hands and hate myself for learning on the second to last day that I actually like SPAM. I’ll remember being told that “26 miles… that’s noooothin'”and the promise of a cookie tote.

I’m so sad and emotional that this adventure is over. These people and this whole journey mean so much to me that it brings tears to my eyes when I think about these strangers that I now call family. I seriously love you all and am so honored you allowed me to share in your journey. Each of you has added a memory and a smirk for those days when I’m missing the trail.

The miles, yes, I came so far, but the memories stretch even further in my mind. I wish I’d known while living them just how special they would be to me now. This journey has truly been the best time of my life, which is why it’s so hard to let it go. This trail is something mighty unique and extraordinary. It brings out the best, the worst and the defining. How can I let go of that so quickly?

I bet you’d expect me to say that in Finding Katahdin, I found myself. And I did learn so much about myself, but I found that the search for Katahdin is never-ending. All of my problems weren’t solved or my future plans revealed by walking this far. This journey to find Katahdin started with an endpoint in mind. But, really, this journey begins at the finish. I want to keep that same passion, fire and spirit I’ve had to keep me going. I want to carry it with me in every step, adventure and obstacle in my future. I never want to forget this pull towards a dream; this chase that’s been so fulfilling. I never want to stop searching for my next Katahdin. The metaphorical Katahdin should never be found. We should always be searching for that next big thing that seems unattainable, but molds us into these crazy unique individuals we are. We were made for so much more than mediocrity. Purpose? It’s never ending, ever changing, forming us and making us uncomfortable until we are His great Masterpiece we were made to be.

So, go.

Be strong.

Be confident.

Be stubborn.

Be fearless.

Be the exception.

Above all, have faith.

You were made for great, many things.

Start doing them.

Stop reading this blog. Stop talking about it. Get out there and write your own story.

You fail? Make an adjustment and try again. Keep. Heading. North.

Last November I thought if I took that first step, moved out of my apartment and moved towards my dream, I could be calling myself a thru hiker this November. It happened. What will you do today to change your next November?

Time is going to pass whether you want it to or not. Why not take a step in a new, unfamiliar, uncomfortable direction and see where it gets you?

Will you just chase after that stinkin’ dream already?!?

Feel that excitement from the ‘what if’ and push through that fear telling you that you can’t or shouldn’t or something is in your way. Use that fear to fuel you.

I’ve learned that wherever you find yourself the happiest, be there. Don’t hesitate for a second. Go there now. You don’t know where that place is? Start searching for it.

So whatever your dream is, do something right now that gets you closer to it. Learn about it. Pray about it. Pay more towards your debt. Practice it. Imagine it. Work towards it right now. Before you know it, a year, two years, 5 years, 10 years have passed and you’re ready. Before you know it, you’re standing on top of that dream victorious and you’ll think of all of those tiny steps and hard work you put in to get to that moment. It’s unlike anything you’ll ever experience.

Find. Your. Katahdin.

As I stared at that rickety wooden sign atop Katahdin, I did my best to remember every detail and every feeling so I’d never forget how this journey felt. Then, for the first time, turning my back on Katahdin, I walked away from her- leaving that dream now as a memory that I will treasure so deeply in my heart for the rest of my life.

What’s next? I have no idea. But, I know just as I started this uncertain journey in the fog back on a rock in Georgia, if I have faith in God’s plan and timing, great things can and will happen.

What’s it like to live a day in the life as a thru hiker? There are so many layers.

First, a layer of poison ivy speckled here and there. Followed by a layer of dirt. Then a layer of bug bites, then sunscreen, then bug spray, then another layer of dirt, the salty residue from the day before, the dried blood from scratching those bug bites, then sweat on top of all that. This combination forms a mixture that can only be described as ‘The Yuck’. In the morning, if you’re the first on the trail, you play the part of webmaster and get a face full of spider webs that may or may not have the resident still attached.

There’s always something crawling, biting, buzzing or trying to fly into my nose, eyes, mouth and ears. I’ve had a bug set up shop so deep in my ear that my equilibrium was thrown off, causing me to stumble down the trail.

I’ve woken up with red, swollen eyes, bruises I don’t remember getting and toenails that are hanging on for dear life.

Trench foot is a real thing. Getting your feet to not look like Freddy Krueger’s face, is a daily struggle.

I’ve learned that the only cure for aching muscles and sore feet is to get up and start hiking.

I’ve experienced all of this while maneuvering up and down wet, steep rock walls with only a crack big enough to place a toe or hiking pole for traction. Black flies attack my eyes as I try to Go-Go-Gadget-Leg down to that rock just out of reach.

I’ve thrown my poles up the mountain, crawled up, hand over hand, only to knock my poles down what I just struggled to climb. Deep breath… climb back down and do it again.

It’s tough. It’s exhausting. It’s so rewarding.

Then, there’s going to town. Town day! A day when everything you’ve been dreaming about on trail has the potential to come true. Resupplying in town means finding the right balance between fulfilling your food cravings, having enough calories and not packing too much weight.

You use what you have at your disposal to make things work. For instance, I wanted to take communion, but all I had was a Pop Tart and black cherry Mio water flavoring. I’m sure Jesus has a sense of humor.

You’ll do a lot of things that are noticeably strange at first, then just become completely normal. Like washing your socks in the bathroom at a restaurant. Or sitting in a Walmart, eating a package of red velvet Oreos and washing them down with a jug o’ milk. (Who would do that?)

I noticed the look some people were giving me and was sure I’d end up on the next ‘people of Walmart’ reel. But, in the same moment, I witnessed a woman place a Walmart bag over her head. (protecting her hair from the rain, I can only assume) I appreciated her ingenuity and realized that she is, in fact, ‘my people’. On that note, I’ve often wondered how anyone could make it to Walmart bra-less and in oversized or undersized clothing. Now I understand. Maybe the group laundry wasn’t finished and the loaner clothes were slim pick-in’s?

At any rate, town is a time when you realize just how long you’ve been away from society. The radar that thru hikers obtain to find a trashcan, vending machine, charging outlet or hiker box is uncanny. Free mustard and mayonnaise packets? Prepare to be cleaned out. That’s liquid gold!

Then, there’s the mileage. Everyday the mileage has a potential to hang over my head and drag the day out. “I’ve gotta get there; gotta pull those miles”. If I looked at every day as a mileage number, I’d never unzip that pungent smelling sleeping bag in the morning. I’ve found a few ways to trick myself by splitting up mileage for the day.

To start, I’ll pick either a viewpoint or road crossing about 4-6 miles out and start there. If there aren’t any notable views or roads, then I’ll pick a water source. It just needs to be something to hike towards. I do this over and over throughout the day until I either get tired or reach mileage for the day.

On days that are exceptionally hard, I’ll break it down to hours. Somehow, two hours doesn’t sound nearly as bad as four miles. I can do anything for 2 hours, but four miles? Ehhh, that seems far…

And when all else fails, I reward myself like a child:

“Okay, every mile you complete, you can have four Starbursts”.

“Two more miles to end the day and you can demolish that Almond Snickers”.

For the most part, this system works for me because let’s face it, I’m food motivated.

I joke about all these odd things I’ve done and complain about how difficult this journey has been for me and the challenges that I’ve faced throughout. But, I choose this ‘hardness’ everyday. As strenuous as it may seem in the moment, I put myself here on purpose. A day in my life is nothing compared to a day in your life. This isn’t hard.

The real ‘hard’ is in everyday life- the things that we can’t control. Hard is recovering from a surgery, an accident, addiction, abuse or from a long drawn out illness. Hard is providing endless care for a loved one or saying goodbye at the end of their days. Hard is sending a family member off to war and sacrificing their life for that of a strangers’. Hard is raising children and taking care of their endless needs.

The true layers are of heartache, pain, struggle, difficulty, disappointment, failure, tragedy, uncertainty and sorrow.

When I’m covered in The Yuck; when it’s extremely hot or cold; when I’m tired and inundated with bugs and still have miles to go, I try to see your perspective. This pain I’ve chosen will pass. But, the heartache that so many deal with each day is nothing compared to this temporary position I’m in. So to you- the ones doing the real, gritty hard life Yuck, know that you are persevering through this hard time. These days in your life might be unbearable right now, but there’s an amazing view coming for you at the end of that tough climb. And smooth, flat terrain after that painful steep decent. When you drop those poles and have to backtrack and go through that struggle… again. Crawl. Back. Up.

Hold on to that promise with one foot in front of the other. And when you need a little boost: Package full of Oreos and big ol’ jug o’ milk might just do the trick.

“All things work together for good for those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”

Romans 8:28

For the majority of the trail I’ve hiked alone during the day then met back up with the gang in the evenings. We’d catch up on the days events and I’d get my human interaction fill for the day. Now that we’re all split up and running into larger groups of flip-floppers, I was feeling the need to get away from the hoards of people at night, but felt lonely while hiking alone during the day. I know how it sounds: pay attention to me during the day, but leave me alone at night.

One day in particular I was feeling extra lonely. I’d somehow got turned around and was heading south instead of north. I’d never felt so insane in my life. I had no idea how I’d done it and the shock of running into people behind me, made me feel drained and like a big fat failure.

You know the saying: “When the going gets tough, the tough get going?” Ya…It should be: “When the going gets tough, the tough cry in the woods for 20 minutes, then get going.”

I grumbled through tears: “I suck at hiking the AT. Why am I doing this? I’m slow. Everyone is faster than me. I hate that my name is Zoom Zoom and everyone thinks I should be fast, but I’m not. I’m not! I can’t even go in the right direction. And why haven’t I seen a bear? Everyone else has seen a bear. I just want to see one freakin’ bear! Arrrrghhh!” (Ok, so the bear thing was an irrational addition to my frustration.)

The picture perfect outcome to this story would be that I immediately turned my attitude around. Haha! No. That one incident set me on a course of unreasonable attitudes. The next day, I hiked out in the rain-the pouring rain, determined that I wouldn’t let yesterday change how I felt today. Well, that didn’t last long. I was cold, wet, angry at myself, lonely and hated the trail. I needed a break. I needed to spread out in a hotel room with no tv blaring, no commotion or conversation and just have peace and space to myself. And food. Lots of face-shoveling food. So that’s what I did.

After that evening of rest and solitude I decided I needed to be on the trail alone for a while, even if that meant separating from my friends. I’d come to the trail alone and had lost sight of why I was here. It was easy to get caught up in the community of familiar faces, which I loved, but this journey is about spreading my wings and experiencing the trail.

Now that I was hiking the trail more independently, I was having a whole different experience.

I talked to strangers. Me, the shy girl that gets anxious to meet new people, was seeking conversation with strangers. People approached me and asked about my journey. I talked to day hikers so long that they would start to back away from me.

This experience has allowed me to meet so many different people that I’d normally walk past. Not just the basics of their name or where they’re from, but deep- I’ve known you for years- here are all my life secrets kind of conversations.

When you’re alone, you make time for those people. You actually hear them. These strangers turned into friends in a matter of minutes and helped turn this trip around for me. They’d ask me about my journey and as I spoke about it, I heard the excitement in my own voice.

Yes, I’m the slowest person named Zoom Zoom you’ll ever meet. No, I haven’t met a bear face to face. But, I’ve learned the faster you slow down, whether on trail or in life, the more enjoyable the experience as a whole will be.

I stank, you’ins!! (You’ins… that’s how they talk up here) After 3 months of wearing the same clothes with few washings, there are some things that soap just can’t help. My socks, for instance… Holy disgustingness!! I can’t stand my own wretched stench. Often times I’ll get a whiff: “What’s that sm….. oh, right. That would be me that smells.” (*Crosses arms and legs and folds into a ball in an attempt to minimize the odor)

While clothes can be cleaned-ish, there’s another type of dirt that’s much deeper, painful and harder to get clean.

Now prepare yourself. Here she goes… she’s gonna talk about Jesus, again.

Everyday I fall short. Whether in my words, my actions, my intentions or my attitude. I can’t seem to get it right. I fall so short of the perfection of Jesus, that I sometimes feel like I’m not worthy of His love or His forgiveness.

But, that’s where I have it wrong. His ultimate sacrifice defeats the purpose, if I fail to use His gift of grace. He takes those wrongs, displays them upon Himself and makes me right in the eyes of God. What a perfect gift!

I think of it like doing stanky laundry: I gather up all the soiled thoughts, burdens, actions, and crumminess that make me feel undeserving. I wide-arm carry all of that filthiness to the feet of Jesus-where He’s the washer of sins, dryer of mercy, permanent presser of love, ironer of grace, and folder of forgiveness. What’s left is neat and clean perfection…Until I mess it all up again.

Listen, I’m not even close to being a perfect Christian and I fail over and over again, but there is so much room to do it right or better the next time! There’s room for you, for me, for our friends and our enemies.

It’s hard to get past the guilt and reach full forgiveness in our own eyes. So what do we do to feel truly forgiven? For me, I’ve learned to start by forgiving others first.

The hardest prayer I’ve ever prayed was that my ex husband would be a loving husband for his new wife; that he’d be a caring and attentive father to his new child. Through gritted teeth, it sounded hateful the first hundred times it came from my lips. But over time, that prayer became legitimate and brought me to where I am today. I want him to feel forgiven just as I want that gift when I fail. That grace is offered to me from Jesus giving his life and is no different for my ex.

If I can get to that place where I can forgive others that have wronged me, then my own shortcomings might just be forgivable too.

So wash your hands of the lie that you’re too far gone or not good enough or you messed up…again and it’s over.

Forgiveness is waiting for you in all its’ Gain-scented glory!

My winter clothes are gone. My puffy coat has a new home in the bottom of my pack. My food bag and confidence is growing and my body is deteriorating.

Reaching 1000 miles, the psychological halfway point in Harper’s Ferry and the actual midway point have all come so fast.

When I started the trail, I wanted to see how far I could go. I had faith I could make it this far, but if I’m being honest, I had a lot of doubt that these size 6 feet would carry me this far.

It’s been a long and short road. It seems like ages ago I was leaving the bus station in Indy, wondering what I’d gotten myself into. But, it doesn’t seem so long ago I was held up in a hotel for three days waiting out the weather and eating one of everything from Taco Bell.

1000 miles. Whoa.

When I say it out loud it’s just a number, but when I think about all the hard days, bad weather, aching body and attitude adjustments, it feels like 1000 miles. When I’m standing at the bottom of a steep mountain, wondering how I’m going to pull myself up or glare down a rocky descent and wonder how I’m going to throw myself down-it feels like 1000 miles. When I think about the pain that circulates around my body- it feels like, well, 4000 miles.

But, when I think about 1000 miles finished, it also makes me a little sad. The end is drawing closer with each mile that passes. Some days I’m ready to be done with hiking for the day, but the reality of leaving the trail for good, makes me want to slow down and enjoy the time I have left out here.

I’ve noticed people are now asking when I expect to be done with the trail. My fellow hikers have an answer. I don’t. I haven’t sat down and calculated it. Mostly, I don’t want to know how close I am to being finished. I literally take one day at a time, one mini-goal at a time, and one hour at a time. I want this journey to last.

1000: It’s just a number, but those steps- those strides towards change, each of them become so significant. Each day, those miles have snowballed into something unimaginable that’s hard to comprehend and hard to explain.

I’m finding so much while walking this long path: my confidence, my strength, my deep belly-hurting laugh, my careless off-key singing voice and my undisputed original dance moves. Most importantly, my true self. I never want that feeling to end.

I suppose I’ll keep heading North.

I’m convinced that the nicest people in this great country hail from Virginia. Everyone is friendly. I’d best compare it to going to grandma’s house:

• They want to sit down, have a chat and get to know you- while sharing a snack or a cold beverage.
• They want to know where you’ve been, where you’re going and how you’re planning on getting there.
• They want to give you all their food and get you more.
• They clean, maintain and tidy up the trail to give you the best experience possible.
• They tell you about town- all the highlights and history.
• They encourage you to go out of your way and ‘Get you some Cracker Barrel’. Which is never a bad idea.
• They wish you good luck and to be careful. And genuinely mean it.
• They ask if they need to call any family to let them know you’re ok.
• They want to be updated on your whereabouts and what you’re doing in the future.
• They tell you to come back as soon as you can.
• They offer you cough drops and make you believe it’s candy (Ok, so maybe that was just my grandma).

Virginia is in fact for lovers. They love to love on people and I love it. Looove it!

I heard so much about the Virginia Blues, that I was expecting all of Virginia to be boring. I can only assume that the blues they speak of, are the blue ridges of those gorgeous mountains they’re growing out here.

If I’m being completely honest, the first part of Virginia was a little boring. Especially with having to deal with so much of the s-word. But, as I travel north, the views get better, the trail gets flatter, the weather gets warmer, the bear-talk gets more realistic and the people- man, the people, they want to see you succeed so much they’re practically carrying you up the trail.

It could be the fact that the weather is (dare I say it) turning warmer, but Virginia just gets better and better.

Next is the Shenandoah’s. I don’t know what to expect, but I’ve been promised bears and plenty of side trails to food. If I don’t get either of those, I can say for certain that the people have already made it a great experience.

So join me in a slow clap to honor the great Virginians and their contribution to making this trail what it is!

Starting the trail mid February might not seem like the brightest idea. You’ve all had to endure my complaining about the snow. Actually, let’s call it what it really is… the whining about the snow.

The main reason I started so early was to keep ahead of the bubble of people that normally start in March. The idea of sharing the trail, towns and campsites with so many people didn’t seem like a pleasant experience. Because of this decision I knew the trade off would be the possibility of snow and the probability of cold.

If you couldn’t tell, I’m not a fan of the cold or the snow. I’ve had a few people ask if I had to do over, would I have started later. Had you asked me this question when I was knee deep in snow on Unaka Mountain, it would have been a resounding “Yes”.

But with enduring the snow, comes experiencing the change into Spring. I’ve been able to witness the awakening of the woods.

The birds now wake me in the morning and fill the woods with music during the day. I didn’t realize how quiet it had been before. The squirrels dart, the snakes startle and the rustling of leaves tells me there’s more stirring that I don’t see.

Tiny flowers of every color are peeking their heads wondering, just as I am, if Spring is truly here. The snakes sunbathe on the rocks where I place my feet and the centipedes and ladybugs piddle along without a care in the world.

The vibrant pastures spotted with cows, colors of amber and emerald are a welcomed change to the wooded, mostly view-less scenery.

As I sat in a shelter during our first thunderstorm, I had hope it would encourage the lush sprouts on the trees and the blooming of the rhododendrons. But, instead, I awoke to cold temperatures and sleet.

I know eventually Spring will come and the cold will be gone. Until then, I’ll enjoy the sunshine when we get it and the re-awakening of the woods- however many times that may be.