In 1979, I decided to spend my Summer break from college working at a rustic mountain lodge in Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming. I worked 6 days a week making beds and cleaning bathrooms, but on my one day off I had a short drive to some of the best outdoor activities in the country. The Grand Teton mountain range attracted the world’s elite climbers.
I had already gone white water rafting down the Snake River and survived the notorious Lunch Counter rapids which featured an intimidating 10-foot drop-off. And I convinced a group of fellow female employees to take a Mountain Climbing class with me at the Exum School of Mountaineering, conveniently located at the base of the Teton Range.
In one day, we learned crucial safety practices and climbing techniques, and then tested our new skills by climbing up one mountain pitch using the “on belay” technique with ropes. The real test was for each climber to individually execute a free-hanging rappel descent down the same route, suspended by one rope.
I felt prepared when 3 work friends suggested we drive from Wyoming to the other side of the Teton Range in Idaho and make a simple day-hike to Table Mountain. Aptly named, this was a flat-topped mountain with a lower altitude summit, for which climbing ropes were not necessary. I was advised I only needed a broken-in pair of hiking boots, which I had.
We left our Lodge in Wyoming around 7am and reached the trail head in Idaho by mid-morning. Golden sunlight made the surrounding knee-high shrubs glimmer in the melting frost. The long, narrow trail stretched straight ahead and rose steadily to the top of a tall foothill.
It was during this initial, long uphill climb that I discovered I was at a serious disadvantage. My hiking companions were all used to living at high altitudes. But I lived all of my young life in valleys, at or below sea level. I had grossly overestimated my readiness for this hike. I didn’t have the level of stamina I needed, and I couldn’t keep up with my friends.
After climbing a series of increasingly steep hills, we came upon a small grove of pine trees on the highest mountain ridge before the summit. I asked to stop for a short break to catch my breath. The summit of Table Mountain was now in site, and appeared deceptively nearby. I encouraged my friends to continue on to the summit without me, and I would wait for them to return to this same spot. I silently hoped they would return soon.
Past the pine trees, the terrain abruptly transformed into an open expanse of small boulders and scattered shale fragments. The summit was on the other side of this eerily barren boulder field. No plants grew in this grayish-blue, lunar-like landscape.
I watched my friends wobble around as their feet slid in the unstable shale ground cover, and then scramble over the irregular-sized boulders. I resolved to make every effort to keep them in my sight.
It was then I noticed dark clouds on the western horizon, which all too quickly grew darker and closer to my location. I felt raindrops land on my skin through my pine tree sanctuary. The first flashes of lightning caused my chest to tighten with anxiety, resulting in shallower, short breaths.
There I was, part way up a mountain without safe shelter. I did not think to borrow my friend’s car keys, so I could walk back and wait in the car for them. This was many years before cell phones. I was completely cut off from any emergency help if I needed it.
As time passed, the dark clouds and lightning were clearly moving eastward towards me. They seemed to be headed on a direct path to my tree-covered refuge on the hill. Then I remembered health and safety films from high-school teaching us to shelter away from trees or other tall objects during electrical storms.
I started to walk towards the boulders, but then realized my upright body might act as a lightning rod in the now drenched open field of stone. What should I do? I cried out to God, “Jesus help me!”
What began as a fun day-hike suddenly turned into an existential crisis, which I now faced alone. Just past the boulder field, a curtain of rain and mist hung around the base of the final ascent to the Table Mountain summit. I could no longer see my friends. I felt virtually paralyzed by the grave nature of my situation.
I prayed “Jesus, save my life!” I heard a voice within, asking “Will you trust me?” That invitation took my breath away with the weight of the truth I now faced. But I immediately responded and said “Yes, Lord, I choose to trust you!” And I added, “Now please teach me how to do that!”
At twenty years of age, I was still very young in my faith. This was my first experience with putting my life in God’s hands while being in such extreme danger, and letting go of my expectations.
I focused on the times Christ had faithfully protected me and lovingly provided all I needed. I was thankful to keep my mind busy which helped me avoid doing something stupid out of panic. I recited what I could remember of the 23rd Psalm. I stayed near enough to the pine trees to shield me from the steady rain. I took deep slow breaths as I prayed.
Suddenly the lightning storm reached my location. I shouted my prayers against the deafening thunder. It felt like the lightning flashed in the skies directly above my head, but praise God the lightning did not strike near me. I stood my ground against the driving rain and strong wind, and mercifully the storm passed me by, and continued to move eastward.
I took deep cleansing breaths and felt the fear and anxiety start to drain away from my chest. I became aware of sensation in my fingers and toes again which told me how completely gripped by fear I had been during the peak of the storm. Daylight reappeared on the western horizon and the mist receded from Table Mountain. I began to hear normal outdoor sounds again, bird song, and human voices. My friends returned!
God had spared my life, but I knew I was different now. I had a new understanding with Christ and I knew without a doubt, the rest of my life was His gift to me. I had time to consider what I was going to do with this gift, to say thank you to my God who heard my cry and rescued me.
Psalm 107: 23-31 NLT
“Some went off to sea in ships, plying the trade routes of the world.
They, too, observed the Lord’s power in action, His impressive works on the deepest seas.
He spoke, and the winds rose, stirring up the waves.
Their ships were tossed to the heavens and plunged again to the depths;
the sailors cringed in terror.
They reeled and staggered like drunkards and were at their wits’ end.
‘Lord, help!’ they cried in their trouble, and He saved them from their distress.
He calmed the storm to a whisper and stilled the waves.
What a blessing was that stillness as He brought them safely into harbor!
Let them praise the Lord for His great love and for the wonderful things He has done for them.”
About the Author
Sara has attended CitySalt Church since 2004, the year it was founded. She studied Journalism, wrote for her college newspaper, and is a member of Oregon Christian Writers. Sara also enjoys singing hymns with friends: “there is a sermon in every hymn waiting to be discovered and enjoyed.”
