Quiet Guidance

(View from the top of Mount Watson looking east. The biggest lake is Wall Lake, where we set up camp. Looking toward the West, we could see the back of Timpanogos)

Tomorrow I start my new job! Exciting, huh? I should be going to bed but since I know I'll just lie there wide awake, I'm going to blog.

Friday morning I had planned to run 17 miles in Hobble Creek canyon. However, I never fell asleep Thursday night. My mind... well, mostly my heart... was teeming with feelings and thoughts. I couldn't quiet myself. I gave up trying to sleep at five and rolled out of bed to put on my running gear and stretch. By the time I made it to the canyon, it was raining and the wind was a torrent. Couple that with my severe fatigue- compliments of a sleepless night- and the up-hilledness of the route and you have the perfect poison to kill my will to run. I quit just four miles in. Not ready to return home, I got in my car and just drove. Where I was going, I didn't know but the scenery was magnificent as the sun began to light up the canyon. I looked up at the mountains in complete rapture of their beauty. I noticed a peace settle in me. It was very distinct and perceptible. I continued driving and eventually found myself on a dirt road above Diamond Fork and figured I'd eventually be exiting through Spanish Fork canyon. Somewhere along the way I found a dog. There in the middle of nowhere and in the middle of the road was a tall, red dog with a bright blue collar on. He looked very skinny. I rolled my window down to survey the scene and he gave me a big, sad-eyed stare. My tender heart overcame me and I opened my door and let the dog in, figuring he had to be lost and someone, somewhere was missing him. As soon as I had reception, I called the number on his blue collar and found a very appreciative and relieved owner. Apparently, the owner had taken his dog out with him on a horse ride and the dog had wandered off. Not being able to find him, the man was forced to quit looking and return home. Was it a coincidence that I was driving through the back country at the exact moment the dog was crossing the road? I know it was no coincidence. I know that God was being merciful to the man who had lost his dog and led me to him knowing I would stop and take the dog in. I was being guided without knowing I was being guided. That's a comforting realization.

Another thought provoking event occurred as I was heading home from a weekend of backpacking in the Uintas. Shortly after heading down Highway 150 toward Kamas, traffic came to a dead stop. We looked down the road and noticed that as far as the eye could see, cars were stopped. I don't know what came over me, but I quickly decided I was going to run down the road and see how far the traffic was stopped and why. I set my stopwatch and took off figuring I'd base the distance on an 8 minute per mile pace. About a mile and a half down the road, I found the cause of delay. I could see a motorcycle down, a white trailblazer diagonally peeled out into the wrong direction of traffic, and a couple other beat up cars. There was only one police car at the scene and as I reset my watch to head back up the road, an ambulance was arriving. Because this accident involved a motorcycle, I instinctively knew there was at least one fatality. I felt guilty to be jogging away knowing that for at least one family out there, the world had turned upside down and I was so unscathed. As I jogged past restless drivers, I was showered with questions, "Hey, what's going on? How long will we have to wait? How far down is traffic stopped?" I was shocked that after educating people that the ambulance had arrived and a motorcyclist was involved the response was not one of sympathy or grief but rather, "I have a plane to catch!" Ouch. I'm sorry someone died and now you're all behind on your schedule. When I made it back to the car, we were all kind of somber. Mike, the driver, remembered how just before we left camp we stopped and helped two mothers who were looking for their lost children, and what if we hadn't stopped? Would we have been involved? Who knows? But as I'm always reassured, God is always directing us and the events that happen in our lives. Again, I had the feeling of being guided though unaware at the time that I was.

Given the events of the weekend- they were simple enough- it has made me ponder how the Holy Ghost works. Like the episodes of calm that come over me and feel as real as wiping a storm out of the sky. I know it could only be the Holy Ghost that brings this feeling to me. But I have to ask why? Why then? Why anytime and not other times? I guess I'm trying to trace my control in the matter. Was it something I did that qualified me for a moment of sanctuary? Or was it just God's mysterious timing?

I also realize that the Holy Ghost guides us more often than we ever realize. But when we are able to recognize it, it is a blessing to us. I don't remember the reference, but somewhere around the time Nephi builds the boat, God blesses him that (number one) he will be led and (number two) he will know that it is by God that he is led. They are two separate blessings. We may have the first and not the second. Without the second, it's hard to imagine that we could be adequately grateful or that we could benefit in testimony as much.

So, my weekend can be summed up in a lost dog, a mountain, and tragic accident. Sounds kind of odd when I put it all together like that. I wonder what the coming week will bring. On the agenda tomorrow: Start new job and try for 17... again.