Part 2 of The Dadventures Series
Click here to read Part 1: The Dadventures
As a dad, I view myself as a protector. When there’s a strange noise in the middle of the night, I’m the one who jumps out of bed to investigate. I installed security cameras around our house. I make sure everyone is wearing a helmet when riding their bikes and their seat belts when riding in the car. I even check food labels, because I want to make sure they are getting good nutrition! It’s my job to protect my family.
Several summers ago, we were at Arches National Park in Utah. While there, I had one goal in mind: to hike to Delicate Arch. If you’re not familiar with it, Delicate Arch is the most iconic arch in the park that contains more than 2000 natural arches. It’s the arch that is on the Utah license plate. It’s a beautiful and majestic natural landmark, and I had to see it for myself.
The trail to visit Delicate arch is 3 miles roundtrip and climbs nearly 500 feet in elevation up slickrock. There is almost no vegetation along the route, or anywhere around, and the temperature that morning was supposed to hit 95 degrees. It’s not a difficult hike for a healthy adult, but there is one long, narrow part with a steep drop-off on one side. And with three young kids (ages 8, 4, and 2), I started to get a little nervous.
The night before our planned hike, I went into protective dad mode. I started worrying that it might be a little too much for our kids, even though they were pretty experienced hikers. I read blogs about hiking the trail with kids, I checked out several trail descriptions, I looked up the current trail conditions, and I even watched a YouTube video of a family hiking it with young kids. Eventually, I decided we could handle it.
We got up early the next morning to try to get started before it got too hot. I had my daypack with snacks and a first aid kit. We wore the proper clothing and shoes with good traction for the slickrock. We put on sunscreen, and we brought plenty of water for all of us. Our phones were charged, I downloaded the trail map, and I also had a paper map. We were beyond prepared…except for one thing.
In all my preparation, I missed that there were strong winds that day. By “strong” winds, I mean gale force winds—sustained wind speeds of 40-50 mph with gusts even higher. But we were at the trailhead, and we were prepared (I thought), so we set out on our hike.
Most of the hike went pretty smoothly. It was hot, and it was steep, but the wind wasn’t too bad. We soon made it to the tricky part with the narrow ledge and steep drop-off. We slowly walked the 200 yards along the narrow ledge hugging the wall to our right. After we came around a final corner, things opened up, and we could see Delicate Arch!
It is a breathtaking sight. The arch lies on the other side of a giant, steep bowl of slickrock. The terrain opens up behind the arch, so it dominates the landscape. Now, all we had to do was climb over a short rock ridge about four feet high, then carefully traverse around the rim of that giant bowl of slickrock to the base of Delicate Arch.
I’m not sure how deep and steep the bowl is, but it appears to be at least 60-75 feet down. One wrong step, and it would be very easy to slide or tumble all the way to the bottom. It’s intimidating enough that many people choose to not make their way over to the base of the arch. But if you stick to the top of the rim, it’s narrow but level. It was quite doable with our kids, but we definitely took it slow.
We made it to the arch, waited our turn, and had another hiker take photos of our family under the arch. The wind really picked up inside that bowl as it swirled around the smooth, stone walls. I took a few more photos of the arch, and then we made our way back to the other side of the bowl.
As we approached the short ridge we had climbed over earlier, the wind exploded in our faces. Now, I grew up “where the wind comes sweeping down the plain,” but I had never experienced anything like this. I’m 6-feet tall, and at the time, I was probably 220-230 pounds, yet this wind was pushing me backward. I was trying to help my kids over the stone wall in front of us, but I could barely stand up. Our four-year-old son was on top of the ridge but couldn’t move forward. My wife (who had our two-year-old son strapped on her back) was trying to push him forward, as I used every ounce of my strength to push her and our other two kids forward and over the wall.
But it wasn’t working. I couldn’t do it. I’m supposed to protect my family, but there’s nothing I can do now to save them. I can’t even save myself. I can feel my feet sliding backward toward the bowl. I’m afraid that if I try to turn around, we will all be blown down to the bottom, but I also know that nothing I am doing is getting them over this wall. I don’t know how long I can keep pushing before my strength gives out, and we all fall backwards into the ravine below.
Suddenly, a hand reached over the ridge from the other side and grabbed my four-year-old. Then, it grabbed my eight-year old daughter. Next, the hand grabbed my wife’s arm and pulled her and our youngest son over the ridge. And finally, he grabbed my arm and pulled me up to safety.
I don’t know who that man was, but he was our hero that day. In that moment, I couldn’t save my family, but he did. My family and I needed someone to rescue us from danger. Yes, I was able to get my family to a place where they could be rescued, but I couldn’t actually save them. That man did.
At just the right time…
Thinking about that day always brings tears to my eyes because I don’t know what would have happened to my family if that man hadn’t stepped in to rescue us. But God has used that moment to teach me an important lesson.
It reminds me of what Paul wrote in Romans 5.
6You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. 7Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. 8But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
(Romans 5:6-8, NIV)
“At just the right time,” when I was powerless to rescue my family that day, a kind stranger stepped in and pulled us to safety. But even more importantly, “at just the right time, when we were powerless,” Christ died for all of us. He died for me. He died for my family. And he died for you and your family.
My family needs a savior, and it’s not me. My family needs a hero, and while I can be a hero for them, I cannot be their ultimate hero. The most heroic thing I can do for my family is to lead them to Jesus.
I can’t save my family from their sins, but Jesus can. I cannot defeat death, but Jesus did. I sacrifice a lot for them, but he has sacrificed even more. I love my family like crazy, but he loves them even more. I can provide many things for them, and I can protect them from a lot, but it is Jesus who is the ultimate provider and protector.
Be a hero. Point to Jesus.
If you want to be the greatest hero you can be for your family, point them to Jesus. Make it your priority. Make Jesus your Lord and Savior. Point your life to Jesus, and model for your family what it looks like to follow him. Do everything in your power to get your family to Jesus, and trust him to rescue, protect, and lead them.
Click here to read Part 3 of The Dadventures Series: The Quest
The Dadventures 