Sliding Down the Mountain

One evening, I set off on a walk. The soil in the area is covered in small chunks of pumice, which is an extremely light-weight rock that crushes down into a sandy, silt-like dirt. So, it’s a bit like walking on very stale popcorn. I remember that it was nearly dusk when I came around a final bend in the trail, overlooking a beautiful gorge below with the mountain rising vividly on the opposite side. My eyes were drawn to the amazing grandeur of the scene and my feet were left to fend for themselves.

Not my proudest moment.

For some reason, I missed the sudden bend in the trail and my hiking boot stepped off the edge and into oblivion with the rest of me quickly following suit.

Realizing my mistake, I threw myself against the hillside and spread all four limbs wide, trying desperately to grab hold of something, or at least spread my weight evenly to slow my rapid descent. The steep slope was covered in this loose pumice, which unfortunately slid along with me.

After descending rapidly for about ten feet, I somehow came to a stop. I still remember the feeling of the rough pumice against my cheek and the sound of the stones rattling on down the hill without me.

Once my breathing slowed, I began slowly crawling back up the slope. It was slow going as the rocks kept shifting beneath my weight and tumbling free down into the gorge. I finally hoisted myself back onto the trail as the sun began to go down. I turned and sat in the dust, my legs still dangling over the edge.

That’s when I looked down.

The slope steeply dropped off into the White River valley. I knew from the map at the visitor center that it was a 2,000 foot elevation drop.

I sat there shaking for about ten minutes. Finally I dusted myself off and walked back home, carefully watching my feet every step of the way.

This story came back to me this week as I listened to someone read a Psalm that spoke of God being our rock and how we need to cling to Him. When I hung on the side of that hill, I was desperately wishing for a rock instead of loose gravel. I would not have slid so fast and so far if the hillside had been sturdy. I would have easily gotten back up to the trail if it had been a strong rock surface. But, when you cling to gravel, it slides out from under you.

So, what are you clinging to? So many people expect their friends and family to hold them up — emotionally support them– during desperate times. But people often fail us. And when they fail, they sometimes take us down the hill with them. Some people cling to their jobs as their identity. It’s very obvious right now what happens when we do that. Some cling to their looks, to their money, their possessions, their security, etc. All of these things can fail us and send us hurtling down into the unknown.

But if we cling to the rock… that’s when we are strong.

We can certainly appreciate the support of the people and things in our lives. They are the blessings given to us by our Father. If you want to carry the analogy farther (maybe too far) you could think of them as trees or shrubs that you can grab on to. But it is the rock provides the true strength.

May you cling to the rock today.