I looked at my compass for the 20th time in as many minutes. “It still says south,” I said to my friend David.
David had much more wilderness experience than I did, and he was convinced we should be heading north to reconnect with our trail. This was my first backpacking trip, but I knew you were supposed to trust your compass. Mine said we were heading the direct opposite.
We’d lost the trail hours earlier. We didn’t even realize it at first. It was early spring in the Appalachian Mountains, so early that Forest Service crews hadn’t yet cleared the winter’s deadfall. We figured that out when we encountered a huge fallen tree blocking the trail.
After climbing around the tangled limbs, we thought we’d found our path again. It wasn’t as well-worn as the trail we’d been following, but that could be due to little winter usage, we thought.
The trail grew fainter the farther we went until we were bushwhacking blindly. It was about this time we decided to consult our map—finally. David thought he had a general idea of where we were. Rather than backtrack and get ourselves more lost, we reasoned, we should head north to eventually reconnect with our trail—if we were right.
If we were wrong? David pointed out that we had plenty of food if we had to spend an extra night in the wild. That seemed OK now in the sunny weather, but what if it was like last night? Hiking in, we hadn’t planned to encounter snow to our knees and ice covering every tree branch. We’d planned to refill our water bottles in a spring shown on the map, but the snow made it impossible to find. We could go without resupplying our water for one night, but hydration would be necessary for survival.
“Look, we can follow this animal path,” David said. The uprooted mess of freshly churned dirt, leaves and debris plunged steeply down the mountainside. It most likely had been created (destroyed was more like it) by wild boars—ulp!
My uneasiness turned to flat-out fear. I did not like our circumstances. I loved sleeping under the stars, but I had never been this far away from roads, restaurants and rescue. We were miles from the car, and we hadn’t seen another soul anywhere near the trail. Now we didn’t even know where that trail was. No doubt about it: We were lost.
The Journey
It’s a wonder I fell in love with backpacking. Eventually, David and I found our trail. Several hours of bushwhacking straight down the mountainside actually cut off a whole day’s worth of our originally planned journey. Boy, was I happy to reach the car again.
The blunders of that first expedition taught me some valuable lessons, though. Now I prepare before heading into the wilderness. I look at maps and make my plan, check the weather and conditions, gather my gear and know how to use it and find at least one trusted partner. (As for that compass of mine? I finally figured out that it was broken; no matter what direction I faced, the compass said south.)
Although these steps can seem like a hassle when I’m anxious to hit the trail, they pay off in the wild when I have what I need, when I need it to enjoy the experience and the majesty around me. Plus, the more I do it, the more preparation becomes second-nature.
I’ve also realized that similar steps are necessary in our spiritual lives. Our time on earth is a journey, both physically and spiritually. There’s a start and an end and plenty of challenges along the way. But God has given us the tools we need to make it. With a little preparation and planning, we can sharpen our spiritual survival skills, build confidence in Christ and be better equipped to walk His path for our lives.
Ready to hit the trail?
Your Preparation
Know your final destination. Jesus told us to expect trouble in this world (John 16:33). The Bible tells us the devil is prowling, looking for a way to destroy us (1 Peter 5:8). Ultimately, we’re all going to die unless Christ returns first, but God has prepared a final destination for those who know Him (John 14:2). Where you are going determines what’s important along the way and guides your vision past obstacles.
Go for goals. You’ve got your ultimate destination, but how will you get there? What are the steps along the way? As I found out, it’s not smart to set foot on a trail without being well prepared. Prayerfully setting goals for spiritual growth (Bible study, prayer, Scripture memorization), service (youth group projects, missions trips) and personal development (hobbies, interests) will allow God to guide you in the right direction when the path seems unclear.
Pause to prepare. Wandering without a plan in the wild will leave you frustrated, at best, suffering or in danger, at worst. Wandering spiritually will do the same. Planning ahead can help you be ready to face challenges when they arise. For example, making a predetermined commitment to sexual purity will steer you clear of trouble before you find yourself in a tempting situation with nothing but the desire of the moment to fall back on.
Take the right tools. Have the right gear—and know how to use it. Throwing a cheap compass in your pack isn’t any help if you don’t know how to use it or if it’s unreliable. Owning the latest, greatest down parka won’t do any good in 90-degree weather. And having the biggest, coolest teen study Bible won’t help sitting on a shelf.
Don’t walk alone. It’s a good thing I wasn’t on the trail alone. Who—and what—you take on the trail with you are important preparations. A good backpacking partner has solid wilderness skills and can help you bear your burden. He is someone you can count on in a jam who will encourage you to keep going and sharpen your own skills. A solid Christian brother can share your struggles and give you a hand when you’re down.
