Month: February 2024

I hiked up a mountain last week.

It’s called Cobble Hill – but I think it’s a mountain. It’s a great place near where I live, with lots of different levels of trails, all named after animals native to this part of the world. There are black diamond ones with names like Cougar and Wolf and Snake. The Blue levels are Deer and Salamander and Beaver. I huff and puff my way up the green Squirrel – sometimes venturing to the Frog or Bunny paths. It’s been a while since I hiked up, and I forgot how much I enjoy it.

I go with my favourite hiking buddy.

Benji doesn’t mind if we stop -a lot- for me to catch my breath. He also doesn’t want me to try and talk (I can either talk or breathe, not both at the same time while going up a mountain).

It’s a well used set of trails – so many hikers, mountain bikers and even a few folks on horseback. At the top, on the east lookout point, I knew there was a bench with water bowls for the dogs. And I actually remembered that there was a hitching post for horses. But what is new since the last time I was up there are the signs.

Take a break. Take a break and enjoy the view. It’s an invitation to pause. To linger. To be intentional about being at the top and taking in the view. Lots of people go up and down these paths almost daily – it’s great exercise. Singles, groups, people with their dogs, on their bikes. But I have never seen these signs inviting us all to take a break – until this time.

Because my mind is always going and it’s usually going writing a sermon, I started thinking about this invitation to pause, to rest. It’s biblical, sure. In first Kings, after defeating all the prophets of Baal, Elijah flees for his life and falls asleep under a bush, and God sends an angel with water and food- fresh baked bread, no less. There are lots of memes quoting this and reminding us that when it feels like the world is falling apart and so am I, sometimes I just need “a nap and a snack”. We all remember Jonah for his whale-time, but after surviving that and taking his message to Nineveh, he has a nap in the wilderness where God teaches him a lesson with a plant. There are all the dreams- Jacob’s ladder, Joseph’s interpretations – they needed to sleep to hear God’s message. And Jesus was always heading off to the wilderness or up a mountain, or in a boat for some down time. Invitations to pause. To reflect. To rest.

So all this was going through my brain, but what really stood out was that someone put these things here. Someone brought the picnic table up. Someone brought all 3 of the dog water dishes. Someone built the bars for the horses and bikes to rest securely on. Someone made the signs – those deliberately welcoming signs, inviting weary pilgrims to enjoy the view. Take a break.

It’s a reminder that we aren’t alone. We are not alone in this. There are all the other people – the hikers, bikers, horses and dogs – that we see on the trails. But also the ones who thought to bring up the table, the hitching post, the signs, the water dishes.

Sometimes life is like hiking up a mountain. Sometimes we are the ones with the energy and the fitness levels. Sometimes we are dragging our sorry asses up out of sheer determination. Or putting one foot in front of the other because there is no other option. Sometimes we are the ones who care enough to create places of rest, of pause. We invite the weary, lost, hot, frustrated, breathless souls to rest. To take a break. Put down the things that are wearing us out, wearing us down, making us cry, breaking our hearts – put them down, just for a moment, and take a break.

Sometimes we are the ones who so desperately need the space, the invitation, the help to do that.

It’s almost the season of Lent. I love Lent – it’s the invitation to create space, change up routines, challenge habits, take on something new. I’m on sabbatical and I was complaining that I was going to miss Lent because of the timing of the break from congregational leadership. And then I realized Lent is going to happen whether I’m leading a congregation or not – and my challenge this year is how to move through this Wilderness, reflective time without the framework of creating studies or sermon series. It’s a bigger invitation to take a break – and to move through this liturgical season in a different way (look for more blog posts!!). 

This hike helped me to start thinking about moving through Lent, and coping with the enforced career decisions through losing 1/4 of my job, like this hike: looking for the times, the signs, the invitations to rest, take a break, enjoy the view. Looking for the moments of help, of support of invitation from the folks who are having an easier time right now, and the opportunities to be that rest, that pause, offer to carry the burden of someone else for a wee while so they can take a break.

One last sign.

Just like the dog-poop bags at the entrance to the trails. A reminder that it’s important to do our own work, don’t leave the “manure” of life around for others to have to deal with. A more subtle invitation to “get your s*%t together”. 

Because sometimes we need to hear that, too.