Finding God On The Apache Trail

"Honor the Lord for the glory of His name. Worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness. The voice of the Lord twists mighty oaks and strips the forests bare. In his temple, everyone shouts, 'Glory!' the Lord rules over the floodwaters. The Lord reigns as king forever. The Lord gives his people strength. The Lord blesses them with peace." ~ Psalm 29:1-11

Sometimes – many times – God sneaks up on us. I think it's because:

1. We aren't God. God exists without a watch or a calendar; God has a different view from ours. He can see our tomorrow, our today and our yesterday; and God can be everywhere at the same time, and He is the King – the Lord – over everything. We are just a wisp of air.
2. We are so distracted and so busy that we often aren’t looking for God or expecting to see Him. We are over-worried about what’s for dinner, or the next thing on the calendar, or how much money is in the bank account. We are so focused on the temporary that we can't see the eternal. We have a limited brain capacity and often reserve none of that for God.

This past week I was in Phoenix, serving churches there. I was speaking all day Thursday for a group of city-wide church leaders. Back in the late 1980s, my brother Tim was stationed at Davis-Monthan AFB in Tucson, and I made a handful of trips out there to visit him. I fell in love with the Arizona desert, borrowing Tim’s Trans Am and driving out into the desert. I drove off the main roads and into places where they have signs warning you to have plenty of food and water.

So, going to Phoenix this week, I scheduled the trip so I could be there as early as possible on Wednesday, providing all afternoon to drive in the desert, windows down, and classic rock and roll blaring. And, I specifically wanted to drive the 33-mile Apache Trail, which is actually State Highway 88 from the small town of Apache Junction to Roosevelt Dam.

But, let me back up just a minute. My flight on Wednesday morning began in Charlotte. I am on a quest this year to read 25 books and to read 200 over the next eight years. On this flight, I was finishing up former Yankee Bobby Richardson’s book, Impact Player, and so – at the Charlotte airport – I stepped into a bookstore to find something to start reading. I have been trying, rarely successful, to rotate my reading among biographies, fiction and books to improve my faith journey. In the Charlotte airport book store, I was looking through the fiction books when I noticed a section of inspirational books. It was there that I picked up Paul Stutzman’s true story – Hiking Through. Stutzman, a restaurant manager, lost his wife, Mary, to breast cancer, and overcome with grief, quit his job to hike through the 2,000-mile Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine. Having hiked most of the trial in Georgia, during my younger days, I bought the book.

On the flight to Phoenix, I finished Richardson’s great baseball biography, and began Stutzman’s book, which I quickly realized was a fantastic story of being out in the wilderness, grieving over life’s greatest setback, and asking questions of Almighty God. I won’t give the book away, but Stutzman’s book is as good a book about an everyday man's faith journey as I have ever read. It is a great adventure story of  man v. wilderness, but it's also fascinating to be with Stutzman as the trail journey mirrors his faith journey. In the middle of nature, he becomes broken before Almighty God and responds to God's calling. Why did I enjoy Stutzman's story so much? Because he could be me and most everyone I know.

And, so it was while reading Stutzman's book that I drove from Phoenix to Apache Junction to drive the Apache Trail. The Apache Trail is a 33-mile road – State Highway 88. It was first a trail used by the Apache tribe to cross the Superstition Mountains, and then it was a stagecoach road for the same purpose. The first 11 miles of the trail are paved though not very well maintained. These miles pass by some pull-outs for tourist views of the desert, the mountains and a few reservoirs. The paved section of the trail ends at a roadhouse / restaurant / gift shop called Tortilla Flat. You can see Tortilla Flat as you approach it because there’s a mannequin hung by a noose from a gallows built on the top of the building. (It's pretty cool).

Many travelers get to Tortilla Flat, buy a souvenir, have a drink, and then go back to Apache Junction. But, you can go further on a 22-mile drive to Roosevelt Dam, which at the time of its construction was the largest block dam in the country (so sayeth a sign there). That 22-mile leg of the Apache Trail is all dirt road. The roads are narrow with one-lane bridges, no cell service, and extreme mountain driving with no or limited guard rails. Along the trail you cross many areas with warning signs of flash flooding as in "don't drive through here if you see water." As a note, many RV rental companies do not permit their vehicles to use the Apache Trail. There’s also the customary warning to have plenty of water.

And, so, off I went in my small rental SUV.

Words can’t describe that drive. I drove until there were no power lines and my iPhone lost all of its service. My sophisticated telephone even stopped searching for service. Deeper and deeper I drove into the desert, thinking about Paul Stutzman on the Appalachian Trail and searching for God there. At one point on his walk through the wildnerness, Stutzman had one of his many God moments. He asked himself, "Why am I hurrying to finish this long walk? Shouldn't I stop occasionally and marvel at awesome God?"

Shouldn't we ask that of ourselves? Why are we rushing through this life of ours? Why aren't we spending more time with the ones we love? Why aren't we spending more time doing for others? Why aren't we stopping to be still and reflect on the glory of Almighty God all around us?

And, as I drove the Apache Trail, I thought the same thing: Why I am hurrying to finish this scenic drive? Why don't I stop along the way and just experience God?

My GPS wasn’t working, but I estimated by the odometer that I was about 20 miles into the Apache Trail. As I came up and around a cliff, I pulled up to the top of a mountain and there was a pullout. So, I eased the SUV into the pullout, turned off the ignition (praying it would restart) and then got out and climbed on the hood of the vehicle to sit.

It was the great expanse of the desert that first got to me – it just caused me to exhale. As David wrote of God's glory in Psalm 29, all I could think to say was, "Glory, Glory."

But, it was the quiet that really got to me. There was no sound except what little the wind made. With no trees to stir, the wind was more felt than heard and I felt as though it were the hands of God reaching out to me. No birds. No cars. No noise or racket. Just the deafening quiet. And, I got the feeling that the only two living things at the moment were me and God. I came to the realization that God was using Stutzman's book to prepare me for this time of worship. And, I pulled out a pen and paper to make a few notes, seeing it as opportunity for a tune-up of my life.

1. I will take time to get away, by myself, and be still before the Lord – away from people, away from the noise and the clatter, even if for just a few hours – I will get away by myself, leave the cell phone at home, tell no one where I am going, and simply rest in the arms of the Lord. He wants it and I need it. And, I need it more often.
2. I will invest more time with my Vicki – just with her – even if it’s just watching television with her. I won’t let the boys and all their business get between me and the one whom God chose for me - the one God chose for a relationship set apart from all others. I will put off all other relationships and ministry to them in order to have more time to spend with my Vicki. There will be a day when one of us will go on without the other. I want to cherish these days more often.
3. I will make sure the boys know that I love them – not by spending time with them, not by spending money on them, not by ensuring they are happy – but by listening to them, hearing them and encouraging them even if what they say makes no sense to me. I will be their champion; not the uninvited “fixer” of their problems.
4. I will be a better friend. I will work harder to stay close to my friends who are hurting; I know I’m not qualified to provide all the answers they need, but I can ensure they know that I will be on life's journey with them.
5. I will be unashamed of the Gospel – willing to talk about Jesus at any time to any person regardless of the circumstance. I was reminded that I can’t save anyone, I can’t make anyone accept Jesus as their Savior, but I have a responsibility to make the introduction – to say to people, “Here is my friend, Jesus, and I would like for you to meet Him, and I would like to tell you why He is my friend.”

There’s a feeling of accomplishment when you drive out of the desert and see Roosvelt Dam. It’s not the same as completing the Appalachian Trail, but you are glad you made it without need of a search and rescue.

God snuck up on me last week, introducing me to a book that slowed me down to hear from God in the Arizona desert.