Learning is slow. It’s so simple, but it’s true. Some set out to learn something new, but it’s only after failed attempt after failed attempt, that we finally master a skill. If we’re honest, many of us never make it that far. The defeat of failure is enough to keep us from wanting to learn in the first place. Before coming into adulthood, some people embark on the adventure of lifelong learning, and others stand still.
So many of our YFC students come from families that have long abandoned the skill of lifelong learning, to no fault of their own. A person working hard just to keep the food on the table spends little time on personal hobbies and creative endeavors. As a result, this tendency is often passed down through generations and plays a role in the many facets of generational poverty.
Last week, I found myself with a group of YFC students and leaders 9 miles down a trail with a large backpack full of camping gear. It started downpouring. The rain was not forecasted, and the backpacks weighed heavy on these young students’ shoulders. “Can we go back?” The students exclaimed. You know what they say: when it rains, it pours.
The plan was to stop part way and spend the night, but camping on the beach in a rainstorm was not on the agenda either. So we made the hike, one that none of these seven students would ever have chosen to do, and we did it with a surprising amount of joy. Each of these students was capable of far more than they ever imagined, an important lesson that’s hard for anyone to learn without the pressing rumble of thunder behind you.
Not only was this a difficult trail and weather experience, but none of these 7 students had ever been backpacking before. From packing sleeping bags and bear bins, to throwing on a massive backpack the right way, this was all new. The students were faced with the option to hate it all, or embrace the discomfort. In the midst of a 3 mile hike on the 2nd day, I heard a student share “it’s so crazy because I’m in a lot of pain right now but I’m also having so much fun.” This line seemed to sum up the whole experience. Our legs would burn and stomachs grumble, but throwing off that backpack to run along the seashell-crested beach seemed to make it all fall away.
Exciting endeavors are not easy, but nothing in life is. Not everyone can see beauty in the presence of pain, but it’s something that backpacking teaches. Can you look up at the blue sky between the mossy green trees and admire it, even while knowing you’ve just begun the hike? Can you listen intently to the crashing waves even while your breath is heavy in your lungs? Can you fix your eyes on the creator of the universe while your own world seems to be crumbling?
I know the lessons learned on this trip are not ones that I will forget shortly. I think the same is true for the 7 students who got to participate. It sometimes takes getting out of our normal, everyday environment to be able to experience the abundant life that we have in Jesus. The Washington coast is the perfect place for these students to taste and see the goodness of God, while also learning important lessons about perseverance, fun, and delighting in the world around us. The ability to delight in life is a skill, and one that is not learned without being taught. When my own eyes are lifted to delight in my creator, the whole world seems to brighten with the idea that there are new mercies every morning. I hope and pray that our students are beginning to see this too.