Tully Jesse Tuttle- our firstborn.

Tully– peaceful; Jesse– gift from God, back to God. Jehovah is real.

This is the name of our firstborn. Hunter and I met him far earlier than we anticipated. In fact, we hadn’t actually yet made our big announcement to the world. We were well underway with brainstorming how we wanted to share the news with everyone that we were expecting a baby- due July 23rd! But as I mentioned above, we met him far sooner than July 23rd. February 6th I met my baby, face to face…as I held him with a tenderness and deep fondness in my heart. I had the privilege of carrying his little baby body for 16 weeks and 1 day. Lord knows- this was far shorter than I had ever hoped, and yet far longer than I could’ve asked for- really. Tully has made me a Mom; Hunter a Dad… nothing will ever take that away.

(And this is where I am falling short of words, yet the Lord knows how deeply my mind and heart are swirling right now with so much to say/share!)

To say I have been caught off guard by the intense impact my son has had on me is an understatement. From the doctor’s responses once they told me he no longer had a heartbeat that I would ‘pass some fleshly matter’  to people’s emotionally disconnected and distant reactions to hearing I had a miscarriage, I wasn’t quite sure what I’d be getting myself into with the labor and delivery process of this baby. In one major regard, I was simplifying this process of my body getting rid of the fetus I had been carrying. “No big deal….”, “this happens all of the time…”, “there will probably not be any viable tissue…” were all confrontational messages to my heart. There was an established love for this being growing in my womb that I didn’t know was there until I saw him. True confrontation happened then, in my bathtub, as I laid eyes and hands on my baby. He was real. He was a tiny human made in the image of God with a soul who once had a heartbeat… and had his hands and feet, his tongue, a jaw that moved… I cried and held him in utter wonder and amazement.

The word “miscarriage” has a lot of baggage and common misunderstanding…really there seems to be a level of emotional disconnection to the weight of this type of experience for those walking down this path. Because Tully didnt grow to 20 weeks, I had a miscarriage. Once 20 weeks or further along, the delivery of a baby no long living is called a ‘stillborn’. Yet- for me…although technically ‘just’ a miscarriage, I felt compelled from the very beginning to embrace the importance of my birthing story. I delivered my little baby boy…

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The words shared above were written on February 23rd of this year. It is now July 19th as I sit to ‘complete’ this blog so I can share it on July 23rd. The silence within this blog entry for the past five months is not indicative of any sort of silence in my heart… in my mind… in my conversations with people with whom I have had the opportunity to share life with during these trying days. In fact, it’s been quite the opposite of silent. Rereading what I have previously typed up, my heart is once again filleted open. I believe it is necessary to open this wound that has attempted to scab over out of some sort of attempt to heal, yet desperately needs to be aired out. My prayer is that this blog entry serves more like the sutures my bleeding heart has been waiting for in order to create a longer-lasting, healthy healing process by sharing our story with you. The wound goes deep, but the heart my Creator has softened is resilient and healing is happening.

July 23rd has been a looming date for me these last five month. It once held such a sweetness to the sound of it. Unexpectedly, it turned into a date filled with a growing concern of how it’d pain me. And here I am. As mentioned above, that was the expected date of delivery for our baby. We were ‘supposed’ to be meeting our baby on July 23rd. This was when we were ‘supposed’ to hear those words, “Congratulations! It’s a …… _____!” as we had decided to wait to find out the gender of our baby until the delivery. We were ‘supposed’ to have our home already baby-ready and a nursery so quaintly decorated, gender neutral and probably with some sort of adorable outdoorsy theme. These are simply a few of the ‘supposed to’ expectations and anticipations that I have had to wrestle with these over the last several months.

Instead, the reality of it all is for this situation: February 6th we met our baby… BOY. No beating heart or movement from his tiny body, but WHEW. He moved my heart and caused it to flutter in a way I have never before experienced. He was beautiful…a true gift. His name holding a richness of meaning that says it all. Our guest room is still in its blah state. No cute baby decorations- not yet, at least. Nothing much has actually happened with it. I haven’t had the energy (really, the motivation) to do anything with it. At times I have struggled to openly grieve. Grief is confrontational! This experience has caused my heart to ache in a new way. It has also dug up heartache concerning my Mom’s death. In addition and as a confession, I have emotionally struggled in knowing how to graciously respond to friends who have held little or no space for Tully and my grieving heart- those who have shown little interest or empathy during this life-rocking experience. Now that I have had my own induction into this ‘club’ I have been given an eye-opening gut check that before February 6th I, too, had difficulty responding  with empathy to other folks walking through this type of loss and grief. And this in and of itself has grieved my heart in its own manner. So much to learn.

In the same breath, I have been blown away by some folks who have shown up- physically, emotionally, spiritually- to walk with me and help carry this weight. I feel forever indebted to those kind, caring, selfless souls whom have made meals, prayed, called or visited, given me thoughtful gifts of remembrance, asked questions, shared their hearts, handed me a tissue as they opened safe spaces for me to cry. It has been a legitimate roller coaster.

Looking through my journal, desiring to find something I can share with you as reassurance I have not lost hope and that there has, in fact, been a lavishing of God’s grace during this season, I figured I could share this:

February 13, 2018

I have my Bible on my lap- not sure where to go. I flipped to a ‘random’ place in Psalms and landed on Psalm 34. Very fitting. I am going to chew on this for a moment… Lord, please speak to me as I read and reflect… Spirit, fill me with Yourself!

When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears and delivers them out of their troubles. The LORD is near the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the LORD delivers him out of them all. 

–Psalm 34: 17-19

My story… Tully’s story… doesn’t end here. The Lord does continue to work and deliver in the midst of affliction. May I fear the Lord alone…may I be led by love and affection for the Lord, and also for others… a sower of peace, not evil or deceit…

Amen!

And then this journal entry:

April 12, 2018

Sitting in the sunshine reading “Here and Now” by Henri Nouwen.

[Jesus reveals to us God’s love so that His joy may become ours and that our joy may become complete.] – references Scripture out of John 15:10-11.

Nouwen goes on to explain how joy is the experience of knowing that you are unconditionally loved and that nothing can take that love away. He also talks about joy and sorrow existing together. I agree…

The situation surrounding my Mom’s death and the ways thing unfolded for me AND the situation concerning my miscarriage of Tully… I do agree. Sorrow- deep sorrow- and deepest joy and ability to see God’s deep love for me in the many graces I have experienced.

There are always sorrowful and joyful sides to the reality we live… [there’s] a choice to live in the moment as a cause for resentment or as a cause for joy. – Nouwen

Choice- resentment or joy… I like how it’s set up as one or the other. I have grown annoyed at “choose joy” as a response to tough situations, but only because it felt like a quick answer/cheesy Christian platitude. But seeing how I do have a choice to see it as either a cause of joy OR of resentment helps me to actually choose.

I long to see Tully again. He remains close to my heart- forever will. I believe the purposeful and meaningful mingling of our lives continues to minister to me. I am learning to embrace it all as a treasure- revealing to me a richness to life I hadn’t acknowledged beforehand.

And so it was terribly important for me to introduce you to our firstborn- to honor his life and to honor our experience in some capacity. After praying about it, it seemed clear to me the best time was to do so on July 23rd. Fitting. So thank you for your time in reading this.

This is his 12 week ultrasound photo. Although difficult to make sense of it just by looking at, his back is turned and his spinal cord is visible toward the bottom of the image. I remember when the doctor showed that to me my heart swelled in total awe. I’ll forever cherish this image of our son. Additionally, I sincerely appreciate the beautiful artwork and kindness of Katie Martin.

This piece is quite special to me!

If you’re given the opportunity to love on a family who finds themselves receiving such news, please don’t hesitate to show up to feed them, listen, serve them in some capacity. Acknowledge their experience as folks who grieve the loss of a family member, even if you don’t quite ‘get it’. Express condolences. Invite conversation and sit in the awkwardness…in the discomfort. Help carry the burden in those ways because isolation, sadness, confusion are a couple of emotions I have experienced. I didn’t want to experience these on an island all by myself, but needed the tribe of people who decided to love on us- new and old friends (mostly new, surprisingly!). They proved to stand in as conduits of God’s grace through this difficult time, and continue to do so. What a display of God’s love to me. You can be that for someone. I can be that for others. Let’s be love to one another.

Lastly-

Tully, dear one… you are loved.

I thank God for you. You have impacted me in ways that have drawn me closer to the Lord, to your dad, to others. I cannot ever repay you for that… but then again, that is why you have been such a gift to me. Thank you! I can confidently say you have prepared the way for any other children we may have… paving a way in my heart to love with a wider, more open heart. Your life and the ripple effect that has come from it… Grace upon grace- I believe for generations to come. 

Contrary to most everyone else’s opposition to me ever naming a child of mine ‘Tully’, especially after I married your dad and became a Tuttle, I couldn’t be more honored to have you bear that name. The Lord confirmed that was to undoubtedly be your name. It thrills me. Tully Jesse Tuttle- what a beautiful name with deep meaning. 

I feel blessed, even as I weep. Sorrow and joy co-mingled. I don’t quite understand it, but who said I ever will or that I need to?  

Until we meet again…

Your Momma 

Ups and Downs

It is 11:32pm on February 22, 2018. The journal entry below was written in July of 2014 while I was hiking the Continental Divide Trail. It has sat ‘unpublished’ in my folder for some time now, unbeknownst to me. I have signed on to start another blog entry and ran into this one… I want to give these words that I felt compelled to write 4 years ago the opportunity to ‘be out there’. So here you have it… Read on. 

The terrain today was up and down. Climbing and then descending: repeat! I’m working hard to get through Colorado. Most of my days out here I would’ve resented this type of elevation change- up and down. Today was different. For that I am grateful. Focused, joyful, strong… that’s how I felt all day. I pray it’s the beginning of my turning point out here. (Written mid-June).

The ups and downs continue- physically with the terrain and metaphorically concerning my state of being. I was literally down a couple of times today, and yesterday, as I have managed to bust by tail several times. My arms and hands and knees are all skinned up. Blood stains have been left on my gaiters and in the snow.

Today’s second spill was due to a navigation mishap for Smiles and I. Backtracking to the actual trail on the side of a steep hill…. Scree galore for WAY too long… I slip and start sliding down the mountain. I manage to say repeatedly, ‘Stop! Stop!’ Thankfully I did but I was scraped up. Something about that whole morning bothered me internally- only 4 trail miles by 2… We’d been hiking for 6 hours! I kept falling. We couldn’t find South Fork Trail on either side of the river. Backcountry hiking on steep slopes and snow and blowdowns isn’t my favorite when miles matter. All of this came to a head for me as I was just about to the pass we were busting tail to get to. I could see the goal. I was ok. But I burst into tears deeply desiring to call my Mom. She was the one I called when I was frightened on the PCT. She was the one who’d say, ‘Baby girl, you’re ok now!’ And I’d feel so much more relieved. I was severely missing her all day. I could feel my ‘protective’ layers (ie defensive mechanisms) being ripped off today with each fall or slow mile or post hole or steep climb. It is good. It is hard. It is purposeful. And I’d give anything to share the day’s events with my Mom. I can’t, but I can with you. So thanks for reading.

One highlight… We saw a moose today!! (Make that two moose as of July 3rd!) (Add FOUR more moose on July 4th!!) And we also saw a herd of 13 elk with huge racks the day before. So incredible. A ptarmigan is screeching outside of my tent. Ahhhh… Wildlife!

I walk into Grand Lakes tomorrow, the 4th of July. I was reminiscing about how Last Minute and I were together on the PCT in 2012 this time of year… Right around South Lake Tahoe. And I was with 12 young fellas in the woods with work last year- hot dogs, watermelon, and rain! What will this year bring?! I am praying some random place to stay since the hostel is full! Oh, trail food and fireworks are a top desire as well.

Let me share that the past two days have been great. I have hiked hard and left part of me on trail, but it has been heart warming! Yesterday Smiles and I hit several mountain tops and did this CRAZY scramble down and then up between these two massive mountains measuring higher than 13k’! Mt Flora, Mt Eva, Mt Parry (‘Party’on our maps), James Peak, Stanley Mountain, and at least two others saw us yesterday. ‘Twas a hearty 16 mile day. Then today I finally hit a 25+mile day again! We dropped down a significant amount in elevation today and so the landscape changed- TREES!! The sight of trees makes me smile. AHHHH. Last night I slept at 13,000′ and tonight I’m at 8,500′. Talk about up and down!?!

Spurgeon reminded me that suffering with Christ brings God glory and is hopeful for me. I also was starkly challenged to not grumble or complain, but rather may my words build up and be gracious.

Seeing fireworks in town was so much fun! A mishap occurred with the fireworks on the barge so the show was shorter than normal. I did meet some fun dudes, though. Smiles and I had a grand time in Grand Lake. The ladies at Circle 3 grocery were super nice and gave us a place to camp. I was awake ’till 1am thanks to Dr Pepper! Zero today and out in the morning.

This last section of trail may be my favorite. We shall see what lies ahead… And as Quicksilver reminded me- I shall see what beautiful thing I can find out of each day! Today- talking with Jenn and then Patti on the phone. Love you ladies!

This is long enough… Off to bed.Night !!

Time to return…

So apparently after I married Hunter and my name changed to Anne Tully Tuttle I tried to change my url to reflect the name alteration- ’twas an unsuccessful attempt. I thought if I changed the email address attached I could gain access to a new url but keep the same blog thread. NOPE! ‘Technologically savvy’ is not anywhere in my list of character strengths- and as a result I ended up totally confused on how to gain access back to this particular blog. I then forgot the password and had no recollection of changing the email address affiliated with this blog. Somehow, someway I created a new blog thinking I was actually accessing my old blog, but I didn’t want to start over. I wanted to return. It has been time to return for some time now. Long story short, I eventually figured out how to access this particular blog once again. And I am relieved!

Sitting at my desk and eating lunch, I find myself at a loss of direction to take in this blog entry. I won’t force it- at least not this time. Rather, I wanted to check in. Considering I have a recollection of how to access this space, I hope to be back with some other thoughts shortly.

 

 

 

 

Making room…

The habit of holding onto ‘stuff’ out of guilt must be challenged, and it must come to an end in my life! Memories and objects are not the same! I no longer give power to the belief that as I rid my surrounding of tangible belongings that I’m also throwing away memories of experiences and people! That’s untrue!! Instead, I’m making more room to reflect on, remember and enjoy those memories because I won’t be mentally, emotionally, and physically preoccupied with stuff!!

With that said, I say goodbye to this lanyard I’ve had since 2007! It came from my time at the Wyoming State Hospital (mental health hospital) during my internship there! And toodles to that car key that belonged to my beloved Stangela! I drove Stangela to and from WY with my Momma… ‘Twas a fantastic car that took me MANY places!! And goodbye random keys and discount cards… You won’t be missed!!

This post was my most recent contribution to the Instagram and Facebook feeds for other folks to read this morning, later today… weeks from now, if they so choose to click on my post. And now it’s here…

There are walls (of physical stuff, of superficial and deep hurt, of selfish expectation) that need to be broken down to allow the light (of love, of truth, of purpose) to shine through…so with a warm welcome others are able to join me as I walk through this life. We are not created to simple ‘exist’ in this world for X-amount of days/months/years! On the contrary, we are created to live in relationship with our Creator and with others who have been created. Stories need to be shared. Tears. Laughter. Questions and answers; friendship exchanged. Life lived with people.

God- the Creator of this world and of my life, of everything- things both big and small, is actively stirring in me the importance of releasing my grip on things that matter not. Instead, He is inviting me to take a hold of what is far more valuable.

The journey already started. It’s not time for me to start the journey, but rather it is time for me to step back onto the path that leads to life lived to the fullest. Telling stories, my stories, is how the Lord is prompting me to jump onto this path. He has gifted me opportunities to partake in many incredible experiences throughout my 31 years of life. For too long I have denied embracing these experiences for myself. I have had tunnel vision toward pathways that aren’t leading to opening my heart to the beauty of what surrounds me. I am choosing to let go of that…and to embrace this new challenge to start telling my stories.

Ridding my physical space of STUFF that clutters my living space, and my mind, is a necessary step forward. My memory is jogged as I look at stuff- priming me for storytelling!! My heart is freed when I decide to say ‘NO’ to guilt-driven reasons to hold onto this stuff. I’m ready to FLY!

Stay tuned! A new chapter is being written…and I want to share it with you!

Nine (or ten) weeks to go!

This blog has been on my mind for the last couple of days. I am not sure why I have allowed it to go to the wayside since I completed my last thru-hike. Thinking about it now, I feel like it’s because I question my ability to keep a ‘riveting, cool, meaningful…blah, blah, blah’ type of blog to keep people’s attention. But in all reality, participating in this type of expression has many benefits- regardless if anyone reads it. I want to continue to share pieces of my story while I am here on this earth with other individuals who are living their lives… and we wrestle with the desire to ‘figure it all out’. We are in this together- as human beings with beating hearts and deep desires- to know and to be known.

So here I am to jump in with both feet. The title of this particular blog gives plenty to write on. My hope is to share just enough to get this ball rolling but still allow for several other entries to be written in the near future where you, the reader, aren’t overwhelmed with written words on a screen.

Summary of what’s happening in nine weeks: An iron-distance triathlon in Wilmington, North Carolina known as the “Beach 2 Battleship” race. Yep… 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run. That is what I am going to take a bite at on October 17, 2015. A while back I made comment about desiring to do an iron-distance triathlon when I was in my 30th year of life. Here it is so let the race begin!! The mental determination and fortitude that has been undoubtedly groomed by my grueling miles and months (cumulative over a year’s worth of time) on the long distance trails will be an asset (and necessity) to seeing that goal accomplished.

I was just talking with a friend of mine on the phone. She is a former co-worker from working wilderness therapy, a veteran long distance hiker, and someone who will be also out there racing on October 17th. Basically, she gets me in a way that most people in my life currently can’t. As we were talking about the race being a measly 9 weeks away and how ‘training hard’ has really been ‘hardly training’ for me with the craziness of life, I told her my heart’s desire is to simply experience another moment in life in which I see what I am made of- that similar to what was quite amazing about thru hiking. To be physically taxed in that sort of manner cannot help but tap into the deeper parts of the human being. I want to finish that race. More so, though, I find myself desiring to experiencing that wild ride of still choosing to move forward when everything seems exhausted…everything but my heart. I miss that.

I felt plenty of those moments, days, miles out on the trails. I felt weak, but the Lord was strong through me. I felt tired, but the determination to not give in and give up was real. There- out in the woods, in the middle of nowhere, all by myself or walking with a few other hikers- I was confronted with the raw and guarded sides of myself; the ugliest of moments and the most beautiful. I had never felt so utterly broken and then at the same time quite as victorious…accomplished…amazed. There was more of a recognition of what I was (and am) made of out on those trails than I had ever known with any of my pre-trail experiences. The trail wasn’t (and isn’t) the end all. But I know the time out there has been part of the intentional shaping of my heart and mind by the Lord. And I look forward to seeing how this surfaces out of me while I am in the water, riding on the bike, and while I am slamming my feet on the pavement when running…for many hours. It may be brutal in many ways, but it has the potential to be quite beautiful. May the ‘me’ be worn down to a place to see, once again, my need for the Lord as the weaknesses of my mortal body are exposed.

I imagine I need to use this space to blog a little more in the future about my preparations and training for this race. Looking forward to that.

Well, for the news about what’s happening in ten weeks…that will have to wait until tomorrow!

Hello, again.

Every week at church during worship through song I am taken back to those lonely walks on the ridges or when I’d reach the summit of mountains… Singing songs that I’d often sing as I walked. Rich treasure to my soul.

Writer Anne Lamott compares grief to breaking a leg and never having it heal quite right. “It still hurts when the weather gets cold,” she writes, “but you learn to dance with the limp.” As I limp towards 30, I am sure of a few things. I’m sure that no one will ever love me as much as my mom did. But I’m also sure that grief opens up the space to accept and give love in a way like no other. And for that, I am grateful.

Those thoughts written above have been sitting stagnant for many months. Today I find myself laying in bed- attempting to rest. Life for me, as of late, has felt overwhelming and, frankly, not the kind of ‘life’ I believe is me receiving the gift of ‘living’. Existing and surviving- that’s what I feel I’ve been doing. And truly, that’s one of my fears in life. I’ve seen too many folks I love ‘survive’ and ‘exist’ through the years The Lord given them. Not my cup of tea….yet I’ve been downing many cups of tea as of late. Something has to change!

He- Jesus- is the way, the truth, the life. I’ve neglected and fought against resting in the Lord. Why? Good question… And I find myself stumped. With that though, I do believe it’s been revealed to some extent. I think I can fix myself, protect myself, save myself, set myself up for success. I think I’m the war horse in the battle. As I read Psalm 33 last night I was struck by verse 17- each time I read over that chapter. Then great hope unfolded in the following verses. The Lord will keep me alive in famine. He has, He is, and forever more He will…

Parched, hungry, and plain worn out, I find myself being drawn back in close to my Creator and my Sustainer and my Salvation. He is gracious to me. There is where I find LIFE- and in abundance.

I miss the CDT. One revelation I’ve recently been given was that I gave myself permission to feel out there. Because of that permission to feel- something I’m learning I’ve become quite guarded in doing and need to live out more often- I think I had a hate relationship with the trail that has now come full circle to a love relationship. There were clearly some hurt and ugly feelings under the surface that came out. As they surfaced on the trail, I felt frustrated at the trail thinking it, the trail, was a beast. In all reality, the beast that is fighting to come out is my wounded heart. May The Lord continue to draw me out and close to Him.

So I find myself on a new adventure. It’s romantic, alright. It’s heart wrenching. It’s right… It’s exactly what I need for my good, and prayerfully for His glory. As I find myself at my wits end and my defenses taxed, I’m grateful and humbled to see my God there.

I wait. My soul waits on Jesus. My prayer is for a new song to come forth from my lips today. May we each think on things that are lovely, true, pure, honorable, just, excellent, worthy of praise, and commendable.

Inside to an email exchange

A friend of mine recently shared these thoughts in an email to me as he is working through processing his own experience of the CDT hike as life out of the woods is unfolding. This is in regards to a new job pursuit that is exciting, but how he finds himself not totally bought into that type of excitement…or perhaps why he can acknowledge the possibility of such job as being great, but that it isn’t what he’s living for any longer. Some of that is my own transference of my hike and thoughts; some of those thoughts above are inferred from actual conversations we have had about this very thing.

I guess only thru-hikers understand. It’s a sense of indifference. Maybe because we experienced so much deep meaning, some of the mundane matters don’t seem to touch me anymore as much as they used to or even should. It’s ambivalent. On the one hand I’m grateful for the experience, on the other hand it doesn’t make all shades of “real” life easier.

I shared his thoughts above to give a little context to part of my reply to him that I have included below. As I was emailing him tonight and allowed myself the time to think back on my CDT hike- the experience I think I have sadly just tucked away in my heart these past weeks and didn’t quite realize that until I was emailing my hiking buddy- I thought this would be a great time to touch base via my blog.

To my hiking buddy, in an email:

I am appreciative you shared a few of your thoughts about indifference and such. Great insight. I totally agree with what you have shared. We did experience deep meaning in many fashions out in the woods. Daily life in my typical life is certainly seen through a different lens. I feel this past experience, collectively with the others (trails), has me in a great place today. People at home- independent of each other- continue to tell me that I am glowing- whatever that means. My pastor and former boss who has known me since I was 15 told me that it seems as though I am in the best place he’s ever seen me. Something settled within me from this past hike. It worked me- hard. I grieved, rejoiced, walked and felt deeply… There was a genuine struggle within me most days out there. The Lord faithfully met me in that struggle. And now- you’re right- things don’t rile me up in the same way….not the mundane, at least. I feel less pressure to connect with a quantity of people, but rather feel much more deeply about quality connection/investment. I feel choosier in who I spend time with….or maybe just less personal pressure to appease everyone else. I like myself and am not afraid to just be by myself, but through the wild ride of losing my Mom and having shared such uniquely beautiful moments with people out in the woods, I am reminded of the richness in sharing experiences with people. The combination of those two things allows me to take in the moments alone and to cherish those moments with people I love. I don’t desire to be alone always nor do I need to be with people at all times. My soul craves the balance of those. That’s happening in my life and for that I am grateful.

That’s where I’ll leave you, for now. There’s a deep well from where that has come.

Hope and faith and the trail

“Tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us” (Romans 5:3–5).

My last few miles of hiking on the official CDT that gloriously beautiful morning on September 21 were sweet. The Lord brought this verse to mind as I reflected on the difficult times I encountered while on the CDT. It was actually quite strange to walk toward the border with the warm temperatures and the blue skies and the sun shining so brightly considering I had walked through 8″ of snow the week before while in The Bob. It almost convinced me that my hike had been easy-peasy and enjoyable the whole time, which is far from the truth. Everything seemed right in that moment but I couldn’t help but remember those wet, cold, windy, treacherous hours and days. Then I considered how The Lord puts to work for my good each of those trying times… to build me up in perseverance (why seeing the end of this trail was sweet), character and hope in Him. Easy-peasy, good times aren’t described as being the means to the type of sanctification this gal needs in order to be made more like Jesus. Instead, trials and tough moments are needed. And boy did it feel like there was an abundance of those trying times. On the other side of this hike I can acknowledge purpose and an appreciation of the work of The Lord. Then to think, it is just a glimpse into the bigger, grander picture of glorification and eternity!

My heart was bursting with gratitude but my mind was confused as I approached the long awaited Canadian border. The gratitude was for wonderful weather in the moment, for the people I shared trail life with, for kind words spoken and hearts shown in several special moments, for The Lord’s faithfulness (this runs deep for me), for the trials on the trail that were used to strip my layers off and create more awareness of my need for Jesus. Confusion was sparked as I pondered on transition and chapters of my life ending and starting…as I soaked in the great weather while remembering the many crummy, scary days of weather.

We need clouds & darkness to help kill self-dependence, wean us from fragile feelings & to fuel faith in Christ – Spurgeon

I read this a few weeks/months ago and it struck me. Literally and figuratively I experienced darkness and clouds from New Mexico through Montana. I wasn’t a stranger to darkness and clouds. But I also wasn’t victim to them as often as I sometimes felt. Instead, as I’m reflecting on the trip, I can see that I was a student learning from my Master… a daughter growing in her understanding and acceptance of my Father’s love for me… a sheep being tended to and led by my Great Shepherd.

Fragile feelings
Self-dependence

Break these and grow in me;
FUEL MY FAITH IN CHRIST

I ‘d love to have some deep reflective thoughts for you right now about my hike. You know, the kind that could inspire you to go do your own hike or to live more intentionally. But I am experiencing an emotional separation from all that happened these past five months. If it’s anything like the A.T. then I ought to embrace this past season as my own in a couple of weeks. In the meantime I suspect I’ll talk to a good number of people about my summer. I’ll sincerely share my experience but it may be from a third party’s perspective as though I just watched someone else hike her tail off.

Until next time…

There’s a season for everything…

Learn this lesson well, my friend. There’s a time to rejoice and lament. And every season will find an end. -Josh Garrels, Rejoice and Lament

Nodding in and out of ‘sleep’ on this Greyhound has come to an end for me. Instead I figure I’ll write this blog entry. Deep, rich colors are beginning to fill the horizon in the distance. The barely present crescent moon hanging halfway down over these colors is a perfect touch to this early morning sky welcoming me into Calgary, Alberta. More gifts given to me by my gracious God!

Summit day thoughts and happenings… Facts: I arrived at the Canadian border at 9:37 am on September 21st. I met RB, Myla and Jefe there. Shutter arrived a handful of minutes after me. We had about 7 miles to hike that morning to get there and then 4 miles more to get to Waterton Village. Grit (PCT ’12) met us there and drove us to Pincher Creek. This is where RB and I picked up the Greyhound bus (@3am) to now head into Calgary. After spending 3 days here I’ll fly home to the Southeast! I hope to utilize these next couple of days to quietly process what the last 5 months meant because it was not just a hike from Mexico to Canada:

It hasn’t even been 24 hours since I completed to trail as I’m typing this up. Right now it feels like another zero day and town stop. I’m in a little state of shock I believe. More of a thoughtful reflection on the trip will come a little later.

I just wanted to report that I made it- nothing short of by the Lord’s grace and strength. What a journey, to say the least. I am grateful for the continued support and encouragement many of you extended to me. It wasn’t in vain. The Lord used it to meet me where I was to show me how much I am loved. Thank you! And glory to God.

Now to find my hotel to nap and rest this weary body…. and to embrace my full heart.

Leading up to ‘Summit Day’

Daily thoughts for the last four nights/five days of this experience on the grand Continental Divide Trail! I’ll journal them at night before bed.

September 17; day 146! 10.5 miles; Two Medicine campground:
Earlier today RB asked me if I was ready for this; ‘this’ being the last portion…of leaving East Glacier and entering Glacier National Park. I told him I wasn’t sure. I’m ready in some ways; I’m not ready in others! I’ve grown weary of life out here at times but I also love it. You know, that love/hate thing. Sleeping on my NeoAir in my Hubba tent with my LaFuma down bag is so cozy! But it isn’t just about sleep. Or vistas/views. Or being able to eat whatever I’d choose with no qualms about nutrition. Or the many other perceived romantic aspects of my life out here. It’s about life lived with people with an eternal perspective and a present urgency. I know more and more that life shared with people is a gift! I am ready to be back in my community in NC.

I also want to celebrate completion of the CDT in and of itself- not in the limelight of celebrating my Triple Crown. Two separate, meaningful (to me) accomplishments that I desire to reflect upon. I’ll see how that pans out.

Glacier is already beautiful. I am so excited about what is coming up.

An owl is hooting in the distance. It’s WILD out here.

September 18; day 147; 28 miles and camped at Red Eagle Lake Foot:
Wildfire smoke from Oregon/Washington filled the skies most of today which dulled the scenery. The wind has been crazy today- even now as I am laying in tent. My body and mind felt terribly weary today but I had to push it over two significant passes anyway! Laying horizontal right now feels like a gift. I’d also like to say that it’s a gift I could make it up and over those mountains today- even in a weary state!

I read Matthew 5-6 tonight before journaling. There’s quite a bit in those two chapters to chew on as far a living a life in a manner worthy of the calling. And the end of chapter 6 says it… Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness!

Tonight is the third to last day out here. Only two more full days of hiking. Doesn’t seem real. People often romanticize woods life, at least those folks who’d do anything to be out here but instead feel stuck in their suburban lifestyles. It’s not romantic. Well, maybe it does feel like it occasionally. It’s tough. It’s dirty. It’s challenging on a daily basis. It’s a wonderful platform to have layers stripped off and a new perspective given. That’s often painful in the moment.

September 19; day 148; 29.6 miles; Many Glacier campground:
Waking up several times last night to intense wind gusts and rain hitting my tent wasn’t actually conducive to feeling rested this morning. Still stormy and unpredictable, RB and I packed up and immediately started hiking and had breakfast down trail when the weather cleared. The day did not start off well. Rain, wind, no breakfast, an argument (that thankfully was ironed out as RB and I walked and as the Spirit of God brought awareness and conviction to me)… But I will vouch for how the beauty of the day did unfold. I’m spent physically as I lay in this tent. We climbed up and over Pigean Pass- a 3,000′ ascent and then basically the same elevation loss. Talk about breath-takingly beautiful!! It was worth every step I took and every ‘HEY, BEAR!!’ I had to yell today. What a place to near the end of my hike.

Only 35 measly miles left! Taking a break today I began to be sentimental with RB and Shutterbug about how I’ll miss breaking with them after tough miles… Me licking my dirty Cheeto-fingers ‘clean’ and them giving each other hard times about being old… I’ll be separated from the opportunity to guiltlessly eat a bag of Cheetos, but more importantly I’ll be separated from these people I’ve grown to love and who I share about every single hour of the day with… I’ve met some special folks! I’ve shared some incredible moments with these people. There’s a place in my heart and in my life for these particular people- the hiker trash!

I took a sleep aid since it’s super windy again, I’m at a busy campground, and I must sleep tonight. I think it’s kicking in!!

September 20; Day 149; 28 miles and cowboy camping at Koontenai Lake:
This was the last full day of hiking and is the last night of camping on the CDT. We are cowboy camping! This means the weather is perfect. A million stars are shining brightly above me now. It’s beautiful.

We reunited with a bunch of hikers at the campsite tonight. It was strange knowing how to take it all in- to be transparent with you. Each of us hikers have had our own variations on this trail. Some are adamant about continuous steps; some skip around and are open about it; some skip around and are tight-lipped. We all have opinions about these different ‘styles’ but like to maintain political correctness by stating, ‘HYOH (hike your own hike)’. But at the end of this trail I find myself at a loss of how to genuinely respond to folks who have hiking styles that resulted in gaps of missed trail, yet refer to themselves as thru hikers. At the end of the day, though…And in all of eternity, this little label matters not. So then why do I struggle with this? More areas of needed growth being made obvious to me.

Today’s hike was by far one of the most beautiful days on trail. Stellar views, perfect weather, and smooth tread allowed for space to reflect some and to ‘mindlessly’ hike, as well. This is a gift because many of our days on trail required mental engagement so we wouldn’t twist an ankle walking over rocks or through the mud or walk off a steep slope or get whacked in the head by a fallen tree that’s just low enough to catch the top of your head or get lost down a random road or walk circles in a bog. Therefore, having time to walk and not be fully engaged in those basic functions while hiking opened up time to ‘just be’. Truly a gift.

Tomorrow I hit the border with RB and Shutterbug. I’m proud to do so. Now to gaze up at the stars one last night on this trail.