April 23, 2011

Sunlight shines through the trees and blankets the trail, winding itself through the woods. The mountain streams jump over the boulders stuck in the bottom, causing a hiker to wade through water and jump onto the rock face to get to the other side.

The poles used as guidance try to form a rhythm with the hiker's feet, simultaneously touching the ground with the opposite foot, but constantly going in tune with the wrong foot, causing the hiker to slow up more times than needed.

The hiker has been through a lot in a period of time. Mile 25 of the almost 30-mile trek and he is still standing. Somehow. What started out as a strong few miles ahead of the pack turned slowly but surely into an almost wheezing middle of the road before ending off at a somewhat level mark. Not to mention the longer journey that took seemingly an entire year to traverse.

--

Walking down the trail blanketed by sunlight, a voice breaks the silence. It's a calm, curious voice, asking a question that sounded a bit too familiar to the hiker.

"Are you a Christian?"

The hiker knew where this was going....oh well...

"I don't know."

"Well, why don't you know?" He always had to ask that next question after the initial one.

"I don't know."

The mixture of frustration, fatigue and near anger was building within. One of those Strawberry smoothie-like   Power Bar things was needed. Anything not to go off on a bitter rampage. The voice had heard this all before, though. Maybe a bit too much.

"Well, do you believe Christ is the Savior? That He died for your sins on the cross? That the wrath you deserved was placed upon Him?"

By this point, the hiker was so exhausted that he couldn't recall what the voice had asked him.

"Yes."

Yes? Why did he say yes? Was it the frustration? Was it the fatigue? Was it just to appease the voice and make it silent and not ask those same questions that had been asked time in and time out? No one may ever know.

--

A Power Bar and many plates of buffet lunch later and the hiker almost passes out on a bed. The house is quiet. Very quiet. A guitar plays in the background, playing the music that would soon be heard by hundreds and hundreds the next morning. The music is peaceful, soothing and calm, all needed after what the prior three days had brought to the weary hiker.

Minutes go by. Then hours. Then more hours. The day goes on and soon becomes night, but as the hours went on, the seconds tick down, one by one. Many seconds had been ticking down for quite a long time, as if someone had placed a permanently-ticking stopwatch on one's life.

What does it all mean? The time on the trail is still in the hiker's mind. Yes. Yes. Yes. What is he thinking about? Why did he say yes? Did he believe what he was saying? Impossible. This hiker had said no. I don't know. Possibly. Sort of. Yes was a far-fetched answer.

Why did he say yes?

--

The movie screen projects an image in the cold garage. Sprawled out on couches that covered the ground, an image dominates the screened. Red is everywhere, taking over the screen like water covering an expansive area. The parts that weren't red display a man. Looking up, mouth open, but words are unable to come out. Long, deep breaths are the most that escape from his mouth, the one area that does not look badly damaged. The sky is dark, gloomy, ominous, as if wrath and fury are about to strike down, the same way right before a major storm is about to touch down on a land.

The image is powerful. Captivating. It strikes emotion to those in the room and it speaks to those in the room. Everyone in the room. The image is a visual. One of those visuals that stays with a person for a long time. It is late when the movie ends. After a long weekend, it is finally time to go to sleep.

--

The hiker's eyes open differently than ever before. Sitting up in bed for the first time that morning, he is different. He feels different. He feels funny. Not like sick funny, just funny. Different funny. What is this feeling in him? Happiness follows this feeling. What happened yesterday?

More than he at first realized.

More than he could understand.

More than he will ever know.

Because that day was April 23, 2011. One year ago.

"It's the repetition of affirmations that leads to belief. And once that belief becomes a deep conviction, things begin to happen." --Muhammad Ali