Jump directly to the Content

Blood Mountain

Hiking four miles in three hours, my legs screamed for rest, my throat was parched, and a 50-pound backpack was rubbing a fast-rising blister on my shoulder. My hiking buddy and I were making a steady ascent up Springer Mountain, where we hoped to spend the night. We were also discovering that a week's hiking was going to be tougher than we thought.

The top of Springer was still a mile away, and the finish line of our journey an incomprehensible 32 miles beyond that.

Watching the sweat fall from my brow, it occurred to me that I was going to a great deal of trouble to get away from my ministry obligations for a few days.

The idea to hike a portion of the Appalachian Trail had come to me on one of those weeks when the phone rang incessantly, when a long list of administrative duties and counseling needs filled my Daytimer, and when Sunday's unfinished sermon was bearing down like a line of thunderstorms toward my Central Georgia home.

Dream big, plan well, choose companions carefully

You can ...

January/February
Support Our Work

Subscribe to CT for less than $4.25/month

Homepage Subscription Panel

Read These Next

Related
Lord, Deliver Us from Passive-Aggressive Conflicts
Lord, Deliver Us from Passive-Aggressive Conflicts
Every church has elephants in the narthex. Here are four ways to root them out.
From the Magazine
Christian Fiction (Finally) Has Issues
Christian Fiction (Finally) Has Issues
Evangelical novelists have embraced human grit and struggle. Getting readers to notice is its own struggle.
Editor's Pick
The Last Gift My Father Gave Me
The Last Gift My Father Gave Me
A surprising encounter with my dad, Jesus, and Jerry Seinfeld opened a door to long-awaited healing.
close