Several years ago, when my husband and I still owned a Jeep, we would go on off-roading trips organized by a tour company and were at different locales throughout the US.  These trips were designed to test our mettle with varying levels of difficulty and beautiful regional scenery.  One such trip taken many years ago I still remember vividly today.  It was perhaps one of my favorites, not only due to the degree of difficulty and the scenery, but more for the life lessons I have taken with me when challenged over the years.

As usual on these adventures, I occupied the co-pilot seat.  This particular trip was set in a remote part of southeast Utah.  It was a two-day trip, and it was the second day which I recall most.  The second day was the hardest day.  We were going to tackle The HILL.  I had the first day to stress myself out on an easier trip and contemplated bailing on the second day, but somehow, I was talked into going along.  We set off as part of a long caravan of jeeps from the meeting point.  We were almost immediately greeted with incredibly rocky terrain.  Rock crawling commenced.  

At one of the early obstacles, one of the trip guides jumped out and got into position to spot (i.e., guide) us over this early challenge.  I felt my stomach drop when he was soon joined by a couple of other guides who surrounded our jeep perplexed.  Didn’t help that we were at an odd angle either.  A very odd angle, that was quite distressing.  The original guide headed to the driver side window just in time to hear me express the sentiment that I was “outta here” in a panic.  Luckily my husband grabbed me, and the guide said that would be a bad, and possibly fatal, mistake.  After a little more analysis the guide was able to figure out how to get us off and over the rocks we were hung up on.  He once again returned to my husband’s window with a huge grin on his face.  He exclaimed that we had been seriously “off-camber” (translation – tires in the AIR – TWO tries to be precise).  “Cool…,” I mumbled to myself.  If I was worried before, NOW I was really worried, as we had yet to tackle The HILL.

As we made our approach, and I first caught a glance of The HILL I started to feel sick.  My stomach was wrapped up into an unimaginable number of knots and I was questioning not just my sanity but the sanity of the group as a whole.  I was flummoxed by the fact that countless jeeps before us had actually overcome this obstacle and lived on to tell the tale.  My general attitude toward off-roading is if you’re worried about a scratch, dent or tire then you should probably stick to run-of-the-mill dirt roads.  However, screwing up on this hill… yeah, that would do a whole lot more damage.  GULP.  As we pulled up to the starting “line” and the head guide walked up to our driver side window I made a quick decision made from an ever-growing sense of terror.  I was abandoning ship.  No way was I going to watch my Jeep, my husband, and myself suffer a horrible fate at the hands of The HILL.  Seemed like as good a time as any to take a hike.

I announced my intention to depart.  The head guide then said something that resonated.  He said I would completely miss out on an amazing opportunity if I bailed now.  He offered a suggestion.  He said just keep quiet and keep my eyes straight ahead.  For some reason, I abandoned my plan to flee, and got very still so as not to distract my husband into making a gruesome mistake.  They had chosen an older gentleman who had guided many a jeep over this hill to be the guide for this caravan of hopeful jeeps.  As he stepped out and raised his arms to begin directing us over The Hill, I stared straight ahead at him.  And we put our faith in him, and our trust and we carefully made our way over boulder after boulder, tires at times in the air, grill pointed to the sky.  He was choosing the best course for the jeeps in his care.  We just had to heed what he said, watch his hands carefully and make the turns of the steering wheel that were suggested.  I felt a sense of peace set in and before we were to the top, I started to relax.  We finished the trail and the trip, making it home without so much as a scratch in the paint.

So, why am I telling you this little story?  What am I driving at?  When things get difficult, sometimes our gut instinct is to flee.  Sometimes we just need to trust the process.  Sometimes it’s trusting a more experienced person, a mentor or science.  And then for me, there’s always trust or faith in God if I open myself to hear the message.  We get to do some truly amazing things in our time on this planet, if we let ourselves relax into the experience and not run.  When fear sets in (or complete and total panic, as was my case) sometimes you just need a little help to get over the HILL and a willingness to accept that help when offered.