Resting in God's Amazing Grace: Summary of My Summer from the Side of a Volcano

For my last full day in Central America, I decided to hike Volcán Atitlán, the highest of three enormous volcanoes rising high above Lake Atitlán in Guatemala. Peaking at 11,600 feet in elevation, Atitlán towers 6,500’ up from the water with a steep grade for hiking

Being a difficult hike isn’t the reason why so few people hike Atitlán; stories tell it is too dangerous because of people. They say that trekkers are extremely likely to get held up at gunpoint or knifepoint, that the gangs or thieves steal your stuff  and take your shoes so you can’t chase them. Well, I was up for it. I’m adventurous, daring, in shape from a month hiking in Costa Rica. I just planned to get robbed and was practicing in my head how to explain in Spanish that I only have water, food and Bible verses (while trying to hide the iPod touch).

I set out after breakfast, excited for the day. I treaded quietly once I hit the trial, slightly paranoid about the stories (well, possibly more than slightly). I pushed up the mountain with a vigorous stride. I had a lot of ground to cover, a lot of work to do, to get to the top. Guatemalans working on the volcano also don’t seem to need switchbacks, so the trail was quite steep, feeding my ability to be an achiever in this hike.

After an hour and a half of strenuous climbing I had a spectacular view of distant Volcán De Fuego and Acatenango beyond the wide plains and other mountain ridges, and the conical peak of Volcán Atitlán loomed above. The beauty stopped my quick pace to stare out at the scene and let the valley’s breeze cool my perspiration. I’ve seen a lot of beauty this summer, and on the eve of leaving Guatemala I’m glad to reflect back on it and enjoy some more.

The volcanic rock trail was well used through the landscape, but not like recreational trails in National Parks. Coffee farmers, corn growers, woodcutters and lumber jacks use these trails, and there is a whole network of paths working their way up the mountain.

Blazing my way past coffee, corn and avocados, I rose above the clouds. I wondered why the hiking trail was going through corn fields as I pushed the large, green leaves to the side. Chance would have it that I’d gone the wrong way. I got to the top of the highest field. I was only about 1,000 or 1,500 feet from the peak of this volcano, but I could not continue any further with no path through the thick brush and cloud forest.

Oops.

Then in the tall corn stalks I saw Francisco, working at 10,000+ feet—a two-hour uphill commute from his home. The hard-working Guatemalan explained to me in Spanish that I’d taken the wrong way up, and the trail for the peak was a quarter of the way around the volcano. I understood enough to know that it was a very long way back and I’d made a grave error in coming up this way.

Running back down the trail I’d worked so hard to come up, I couldn’t help but be frustrated at myself for taking the wrong route. If only I’d gone the right way the first time. “Regresa” echoed in my head from Francisco’s instructions. You have to regress—to go back. If only I’d gone the right way the first time.

It’s a lot easier to go the right way the first time instead of having to repent and go back.

I was also frustrated that I probably wouldn’t be able to summit this volcano anymore. The setback from error was too critical to be able to make up enough ground before I’d need to head down before sunset and dinner. I kept hiking though, getting a fair bit further up the right path, and taking a few more wrong paths. I had to ask more Guatemalans for help. Some gave good guidance; some pointed me the wrong direction, making me appreciate the value of good advice. I had to call it a day before my legs got any weaker as I heard the thunderclouds drifting towards me. No mountaintop triumph today.

I hiked enough to have gotten to the top if I’d taken the right path. I would have made it in time. But after taking wrong trails, there was no way I could get to the top. I hiked all day for one of the biggest hikes of my life, but I didn’t make it. Sitting with the truth of my limitation is not easy. I want to achieve. I want to get there by myself.

Once I turned around to run back down, a fresh wave of joy hit me as I felt peace in not needing to get to the top. The journey has been beautiful, and that is enough. What a reminder to rest in God’s grace! Here on the last day of my summer sabbatical God reminded me that He is enough for me—His grace is enough—and learning to rest in that truth brings joyous freedom.

I ran down the mountainside in amazement as my eyes and feet thought quickly to hit the right rocks and avoid the dangerous roots. Being reminded that I’m good enough without achieving anything, I began to sing out the beautiful, old hymn, “Amazing Grace.”

Here are the words of the song with reflections on the themes of my summer:

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me!

I once was lost, but now am found,

Was blind but now I see!

Looking back on the past two months, I’ve been able to spend much time reflecting on the grace that is in my life. I meditated on God’s Word in the Jungle House. I memorized Ephesians 2:8-10 in three languages: English, Greek and Spanish. I experienced God’s blessing on my trip. Living in the city, it is easier for me to forget the grace I’ve been given, but away from the human-created urban world it's harder to forget the God who made me. The more I think about grace, the more real it becomes… and the more I want to share it with others.

T’was grace that taught my heart to fear,

And grace my fears relieved.

How precious did that grace appear

The hour I first believed.

Even though I strive to fear God, I often fear man and strive to please them. Being in Central America provided me with time to remember God and to pray. I got away from big names, from big money, and from big things to do. I didn’t have to worry about my appearance, my clothing, my accomplishments. Grace is enough. Did I get to memorize scripture, study the Greek New Testament, and practice Spanish, according to my goals? Yes, but in freedom. I got experience freedom from the fear of man and relief from my normal busyness.

Through many dangers, toils and snares

I have already come;

‘Tis grace that brought me safe thus far

And grace will lead me home.

The hike was dangerous—I could’ve been robbed, broken an ankle, run out of water or been attacked by animals, but I wasn’t. God brought me through many dangerous circumstances this summer. Before leaving the US, I asked for prayers for health, for safety, and for protection from various temptations. God faithfully protected me from all kinds of sickness, disease, injury, crimes, and lusts. This is no small miracle for two months of traveling alone in Central America. Now I’ve been led home with habits of grace that I hope to continue until I reach my eternal home.

When we’ve been there ten thousand years

Bright shining as the sun

We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise

Than when we’ve first begun.

I spent the summer in some of the most beautiful places this world offers, in some of the most pleasant climates, with a most peaceful pace of life—but it wasn’t paradise. Life on this earth is still painful, lonely, uncomfortable, no matter where we go or how much money we have or spend. I look forward to a day when God reveals a new heaven and a new earth, and when the family of God comes together in glory.

Thank you for all your prayers for me this summer. I have many people to thank for your support, advice, and encouragement. Above all, praise God for his grace in my life.