I went for a hike with a good friend today. She’s the type of friend that does triathlons for fun and thinks most physical things are easy. When she first told me about the hike, she said it was “very doable”. I cautiously agreed. 

Within the first 5 minutes of the hike, my legs were burning. It was a steep incline and I was immediately worried. 10 minutes in, we were practically rock climbing and when she pointed at the top of the mountain saying we’d end up there, my jaw almost dropped to the ground. 

But I persisted, and my eyes were fixed on her feet, making sure my feet went where hers went. As I watched, I noticed how slow and sure-footed she was. It was as if she were placing each foot down with meditative intention, walking at a slow but sure pace. I mentioned this to her and she chuckled, saying that she had learned this from the Nepalese people she too would follow up mountains. She talked about a 70 year old woman who would walk in this manner, and travel up and down the mountains with ease. 

I continued to mimic my friend’s gait, which made a big difference, but I was still stressed about the difficult terrain we hiked. When I admitted this to my friend/sherpa, she shared that she often focuses on the immediate 3 foot radius around her as she hikes to help her find her footing. 

I immediately adopted that and quickly noticed how the hike transformed for me. Before, when my eyes kept roaming ahead and above me, I would be overwhelmed by all of the rocks, how difficult the path looked, and how much further we had to travel. As I zoomed in on the 3 feet around me, and intentionally slowed myself down to place more intentional steps, my anxiety vanished. With my focus on slowly and intentionally taking my next step, that next step was peaceful. The presence of rocks were no longer threats, just a reality that I accepted. I accepted the road that was before me without resistance or resentment. As I type this, I can imagine how woo-woo this might sound. And it only emphasizes how outside of my normal reality this was. I didn’t know this kind of experience and attitude were possible. To accept the road and not to resent the road, with all the rocks, divots, branches, and steep hills. The road was just the road, and it did not affect the fact that I took a next step. And every now and then, I would pause, lift my eyes, and see how much progress we had made. The view kept getting more and more beautiful, and the feeling of accomplishment only grew. 

The hike today was healing and revelatory for me. The 3-foot radius method gave me greater faith in a recent conviction God gave me. During a time of prayer, He reminded me to let tomorrow worry about itself – and to be faithful to today. I’m normally a future-oriented person, constantly strategizing and preparing for the days ahead. While that orientation sometimes pays out, it also sometimes brings a great deal of unnecessary anxiety. When I think about significant decisions that worried me so much in recent years, none of those situations panned out as I had expected. I would think that I would have to make a decision between choice A or choice B in 4 years. And I would worry so much about A or B, B or A. And then something completely unpredictable would happen and A or B would be cancelled out and C would happen. 

Here’s an example: by 2026 my husband and I had to make a final decision about whether our family would commit to active duty in the military. For all of 2022 and 2023 I worried so much about whether we could/should go active duty or not. and now, it’s 2024 and my husband and I are separated, he’s stepped down from the military, and the issue is a NON issue now. I had wasted so many days/weeks worrying about choices that never needed to be decided. Did I know that? No. Did God? Yes. Did God ever make me responsible for worrying about those future decisions? No. But the thought of worrying about just today seems so….inefficient. What if I need to prepare? What if I take too long on something that could have been made faster with some forethought? What if I’m caught off guard? 

And yet, placing my foot in front of the other one, being unphased by the terrain, and intentionally going slowly brought me peace, joy, and a sense of accomplishment. As I did that, I still had time to stop, look around me, and check for the next trail marker to direct me. I am not on my own. God is not asking me to figure things out by myself. He does know what tomorrow brings. And He has made today enough for tomorrow. The funny thing about hiking is that the walk (with its terrain) is the fun part. That’s the point of the hike. To walk, to overcome, and stop to enjoy the sights. I keep forgetting that about life. I keep thinking that the point of life is to achieve something, to get somewhere. But God is trying to tell me that my mission field is today. To be sure-footed in what I do today. In how I love my kids, in how I reach out to the people around me, in how I rejoice in God today. In my 3-foot radius, God has given me what I need to get to my next step. When I am faithful today, God will give me enough to be faithful tomorrow. 

When I look ahead, the road seems impossible. There are so many questions and worries. Instead of trying to forecast what will be of my life (and my kids’ lives) and crumbling under the weight of anxiety, I want to accept what is true today. This realization that the road is just the road, and the rocks are just rocks is important for me. Because the road of my life, is just the road. And instead of resenting the difficulties, what would it be like for me to accept that they are there, and take my steps through them? Instead of thinking about what the path says about me, what would it be like to decide who I actually am, and let my steps represent that truth? And the best way I can do that, is one step at a time, one day at a time. Not trying to race through the difficult terrain, but slowly and sure-footedly walking the path.