I was excited about my plan to have a mini-retreat in the Airstream while Jeff went on a twenty-mile backpacking expedition in the Sawtooth Wilderness, Idaho. Although I felt sad to miss some rigorous hiking through a stunningly beautiful part of the country, I wasn’t SO sad that I wanted to sleep on the ground in the cold or eat Frito pie for dinner🙄. A girl needs to know her limits.
Although I knew nothing could entice me to trade my comfy bed for a foam pad and a sleeping bag under the stars, after we parked our trailer, the mountain views from our window beckoned. I knew that some kind of outdoor adventure was on the horizon. I decided to tag along with Jeff’s hiking group for the first three miles, hoping it would satisfy my desire to be in the mountains.
Only it didn’t…
The first part of the trail was flat, and I barely broke a sweat.
I felt gypped.
By the time I climbed into bed that night, I was already toying with the idea of hiking by myself the next day. There was just one problem…
As much as I wanted to see the mountain lakes that Jeff was heading to, I wasn’t sure that hiking alone was sensible. Hiking fourteen miles with over two thousand feet of elevation gain in the wilderness alone filled me with great trepidation. I didn’t even know how to download the trail map onto my phone, for goodness’ sake. (Jeff always took care of that.) On top of that, I didn’t have my hiking poles with me, which meant the chances that I could fall and twist an ankle were significantly increased…especially given this hike had five river crossings and I have a history of ankle injuries.
What if I hurt myself again?
Given the nature of the hike, all of these concerns were reasonable. What I didn’t expect, however, was for a bunch of unreasonable fears and anxieties to bubble up as well. There is nothing like getting outside your comfort zone to test how much fear is still inside you. 😬
Here is a sampling of the seemingly random thoughts that reflected hidden anxieties I encountered on my hike:
Being late: This one is beyond weird. I was not on a schedule. While I thought that I should hit the trail around 9:30 a.m. since it would take me about six hours to complete the hike, nothing was holding me to that time. Still, when I took off at 9:40, I felt compelled to sprint down the trail to make up time. I didn’t even realize I was doing this until about a mile in. 🤷🏻♀️
Forgetting to pack toilet paper: Mind you, I never pack toilet paper on a day hike and haven’t regretted it—well, apart from the one time when I had a true digestive track emergency more than twenty years ago. The horror of what happened should have been enough to scare me into always having TP, but somehow it didn’t. It wasn’t until I started down the trail that anxious thoughts about unpreparedness started filling my brain. It was almost enough to send me into another digestive track emergency. 💩
Dealing with other people on the trail: Although I have found significant healing since writing about my issue with other hikers, I was filled with dread when I saw a couple hitting the trail just a few minutes before me. I knew I would easily pass them since I was practically sprinting (see my “being late” point), but I worried that if I stopped to get a snack or (God forbid) had a digestive track emergency on the trail, they would catch up to me. This made me anxious. 🤷🏻♀️
Feeling compelled to rush back: Once I reached my destination—a truly stunning mountain lake—I found it challenging to sit and take in the moment. In what should have been the most peaceful setting in the world (see below), knowing I had to hike seven miles to get back left me feeling anxious. A part of me was chomping to get back on the trail, yet I was annoyed at myself for feeling this way. Why couldn’t I linger in peace?
Although I was able to complete my epic hike and celebrate my accomplishment, I was determined not to write off the anxieties I encountered as simply “little quirks.” Those little quirks often point to a need for healing. Despite being able to work through my fears as they popped up on the trail, as I reflected on my thoughts and behaviors after the fact, I recognized hidden triggers that needed healing.
So, what can we learn about anxiety? Anxieties are fears about the future and can be broken down into three types:
Reasonable fears: These are the ones that help keep us safe, like the fear that drives us to carry bear spray in the wilderness or extra layers on a mountain hike.
Fears that come from false beliefs about ourselves: For example, if you believe that only lazy people sleep in, you may experience anxiety if you don’t jump out of bed to start your day, even on vacation.
As I processed my anxiety about passing people on the trail (which led me to feel like I needed to stay in front), I discovered that it was connected to a belief that I’m a selfish person if I put myself first. (This is a persistent lie in my life.) Staying ahead of someone I’ve already passed meant I only had to feel bad about myself once. That was my (deep down) motivation to not let people pass me. False beliefs are often at the bottom of irrational fears.
Fears that come from false beliefs about God: We may say that “nothing is impossible for God,” but when we are tested, our true beliefs are revealed. (Saying something and believing it can be two different things!) I recognized this to be an issue on my hike when I began to worry that I might have a digestive track emergency on the trail. I obsessed about not having toilet paper for about a mile before I decided to confront my false belief: God was not able to do anything about a potential bathroom emergency. I said, “God, I trust you to keep me from needing to poop on this hike. I refuse to worry about toilet paper anymore.” I’m happy to report I never thought about it again.
This is a good point to invite you to consider how fear and anxiety manifest in your life. If your response is, “I never feel anxious,” part of me wants to give you a high-five! The other part of me wants to challenge you to get outside your comfort zone and see what comes up. You don’t have to hike fourteen miles in the wilderness, but when you leave your comfort zone, you might find some hidden fears that surface.
If you are well aware of your anxieties, I suggest you reflect on which category your fear belongs in. Is your fear or anxiety reasonable, and does it serve to protect you? Or do you believe something that isn’t true about yourself or God? If you aren’t sure, why not ask God? When dealing with our fears and anxieties, we need His truth so that we may be set free.
“If you abide in My word, you are My disciples indeed. And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” (John 8:31-32)
We will continue with this topic next week! In the meantime, I’d love to hear about any anxieties that bubble up in your life. Is your anxiety connected to a false belief about yourself or God? Please comment below!