It’ll Flatten Out Eventually

By Cynthia Ruchti –

So I’m hiking through the woods in Alaska and…

I’ve never written a line like that before. But there I was, following a guide over narrow trails that led up—and I mean UP—the cliffs around a glacial lake near Skagway.

When my husband and I signed on for this combination hike-and-float excursion, no one told us it would test our hearts’ ability to keep from exploding. Or our lungs’ desire to slip through our ribcage and run for cover.

No one told us, “It would probably be best if you were in good shape, underweight, and athletically inclined,” none of which matched our description.

I longed for the guide to list a few more points of interest while we stood clumped on a relatively flat part of the trail. My heart rate had only returned from nuclear meltdown to danger zone when he said, “Let’s keep moving. This next section of the trail is pretty steep. Watch your step.”

Too many minutes later, the guide motioned us to another clearing so he could show us what the bear had eaten recently.

“It’s pretty steep here yet for a while…”

Okay. Jesus, I’ll be seeing You soon. Looking forward to it.

“But the trail will eventually flatten out. The last third is fairly level land as we work our way along the shore to our put-in point for the raft.”

Level. I definitely heard the word level. The trail will eventually flatten out. Those words became my theme song as I hauled my sorry carcass over the rocks and roots and up the torturous path. I would have quit. Any number of times. But I didn’t want to look like a sissy, for one. And two, how would the others have gotten my body back to civilization? Just give me a shove and roll me down the cliff face? No thanks.

I took another step and another and another because of the promise that the trail would eventually flatten out.

And that’s how we keep going after grief crushes us or disappointment slices us open or the path turns so steep we can’t breathe.

God promised that the trail would eventually flatten out. We can make it that far. Then He will—as my husband did—put His arm around us and say, “What a trooper!”

Looking forward to it.

PRAYER: Lord, I’m clinging to Your promise that the trail will eventually flatten out. Could I ride on Your shoulders until it does?

“The Lord upholdeth all that fall, and raiseth up all those that be bowed down” (Psalm 145:14 KJV).

Today’s devotional is by Cynthia Ruchti, writer/producer of THE HEARTBEAT OF THE HOME radio ministry and president of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW). Cynthia’s debut novel—They Almost Always Come Home—released with Abingdon Press May 1, 2010–http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtZb0by984g. Cynthia writes stories of Hope-that-glows-in-the-dark (www.cynthiaruchti.com).