from Chloe Northart
2019 S.O.W.E.R.S. Graduate

Have you ever had a moment when someone was so kind to you and so giving, and you just had no idea how to respond to them? That was the entirety of my experience in May on our Abound trip. Over the course of the two weeks we were gone, I saw people giving selflessly to help me, so that I could have a profitable trip, and they all gave in ways that I’ll never be able to give back. The most obvious demonstration of this happened while we were hitchhiking. For the most part, the people who picked us up didn’t change their routes. I still appreciate anyone who was willing to put three strangers in the back of their car, trusting us to not murder them. But they just drove along their planned routes and dropped us off when our paths diverged.

But there were a few people who completely blew me away. Alan drove us two hours out of his way after he’d worked a twelve-hour night shift at the coal mine. Joe and Yolanda drove us an hour and a half out of their way, taking us all the way through the final stretch to Roswell. Roy and Vicki drove us two hours out of their way, bought us a steak dinner and a motel room, and gave us $100 for the road. Justin drove us four hours out of his way, all the way back to the farm. We didn’t know any of these people. We’ll probably never see them again. They had nothing to gain from helping the three kids on the side of the highway, yet they chose to help us anyway. It’s been almost four months since this stuff happened, and I’m still trying to comprehend how somebody could be that kind and giving to complete strangers.

And it wasn’t just the hitchhiking where I saw people giving to help me. Up on the mountain, I was the only girl with five boys, so I often lagged behind everyone else. I got frustrated with myself every day. But no matter how far behind I got, all five of my mountaineering companions were incredibly patient. Every time I was ready to give up on something, Michael or Victor (or both) were right there with me to encourage me. Their confidence in my ability helped me believe that I could do all of these hard things. Their constant encouragement helped me to push myself, and I realized that I am capable of way more than I ever thought I could do. No amount of “thank-yous” from me can express how much I appreciate their help. I can’t repay them for their patience. All I can really do to thank them is try my best in every situation – to be the person that they think I can be.

It’s a weird feeling to sit and think about how much I owe to people who helped me. This trip was one of the best times of my life, and it wouldn’t have been the same without each and every single act of kindness. All of these people sacrificed their own time, money, and energy to help me out, and I didn’t do a thing to deserve it. Throughout the entire trip, I couldn’t stop thinking about the first few verses of I Corinthians chapter 13:

“Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.
And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.”

Without love for each other, we are nothing. Without real, true, selfless, giving love for each other, we are nothing. I can memorize every chapter of the Bible and study every piece of Biblical research that’s ever been published and teach every Sunday, but none of that means a dang thing unless I can really love the body of Christ. Everything that I’ve learned this past year means nothing if I can’t give to my fellow believers the way they gave to me. That’s all I can really do to repay the people who were kind to me: follow their examples and give to the next person who needs help.

from Austin Graef
2019 S.O.W.E.R.S. Graduate

1 Peter 5:8
Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour:

Fear paralyzes. It’s the greatest tranquilizer in existence. Before jumping upon its prey, a lion will roar, paralyzing its prey with fear. Fear causes us to freeze and to panic, and short-circuits our ability to think straight. Now, the more time we spend searching the Word and talking with God, the more we learn things like “…God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” from 2 Timothy 1:7, or familiarize ourselves with the 365 times the Bible says “fear not” or “don’t be afraid.” Now, learning about fear and how it paralyzes is one thing, but being 60 feet off the ground with only a rope and a few fingertips between you and a rocky demise is another thing entirely.

When you’re on the rocks, it’s hard to get comfortable. Really, the entire situation was horribly uncomfortable, and I can’t help but remember how often the thought “I don’t want to be here” ran through my mind. In the midst of fatigue, pain, fear, and general discomfort, all of the book-work that I’d done on fear was suddenly unimportant. All that I really cared about was getting my happy ass off the rocks. And when you’re in the middle of a climb, you can’t exactly call it quits halfway through. The only way out of that situation is to see it through and make it to the top.

I have only been in that level of discomfort maybe twice, and both times were when quitting a job. I hate quitting jobs. It brings me a great deal of discomfort, and I would build up fear about all the things that could go wrong. Similarly, when stuck on a climb and trying to find the next handhold, I would build up fear. I’d start imagining the possibilities of slipping and falling, and the pain that was sure to accompany smacking my body against the rock face accompanied the cuts on my fingers from each time I’d slipped before. Now, while quitting a job and rock climbing may not have many similarities, the fear was all too familiar. The only other similarity I can think of is how stupid it was to sit in fear in either situation. The time I spent tormenting myself on the rocks thinking about the next step was insurmountably more horrible than just taking the next step. The thoughts that ran through my head when procrastinating putting in my two weeks’ notice were horrendous in comparison to talking to my supervisor.

That’s the thing about fear: fear is a liar. If you allow fear to paralyze you, you will be devoured. However, fear is as easy to conquer as taking one step forward, and letting one foot fall in front of the other. Unfortunately, that’s hard to learn from a book. It requires stepping outside and facing the things that you fear to overcome them. And while being stuck on the rocks in pain and in fear was a harrowing experience, there’s nothing quite like pulling yourself over the ledge of the top of the world.

Fear is a liar, and it requires confrontation to be corrected. That was the greatest thing I could have taken away from my time at Abound.

Love in Christ,

Austin