Last Saturday, the sun gleamed brightly off the snow, beckoning me to step outside for a brief hike. At the same time, the wind chimes hanging on the back patio played furiously in the blustering wind. To go, or not to go. That was the question. I needed the exercise, and if I didn’t brave the bluster, I knew I wouldn’t get any. Yet the warmth inside wrapped me in indecision.
Finally, bravery won out.
“Maybe,” I reasoned, “if I walk the Sinnissippi Park Trail, the trees and hills will block the wind.”
So, donning the appropriate clothing, I headed to the Hoover Park trailhead.
The trail is a paved path that winds through the woods, crosses a stream that empties into the Rock River, climbs its way into Sinnissippi Park itself before descending again to follow the river. I typically walk 1.75 miles to a water treatment facility before turning around. This is by far the most scenic trail in our local area, and it’s only five minutes from my home. I’ve come to appreciate it more each year!
Arriving at the trailhead, I started my trail-tracker app, locked the car, and headed out. As I reached the end of the parking lot, a couple was just finishing their walk. A brief mutual hello was followed by the lady commenting, “It’s awful icy in places!” Thanking her for the heads up, I confidently ventured on.
“Icy”
Yes, I anticipated that. I’ve been on this trail before under similar conditions, and even though the path gets plowed (sort of), it can be quite treacherous—especially on the hill climbing into and descending out of Sinnissippi Park. The ascending path cuts through a favorite sledding hill, so naturally the plow isn’t going to clear off the path at that point. The repeated packing down of the sleds, the daytime sun slightly melting the surface, and the nighttime refreezing said surface leaves thirty yards of very slick walking!
I brought along my trusty Yaktrax
But as I said, I anticipated slippery conditions. I brought along my trusty Yaktrax—those mysterious, miraculous attachments for the bottom of my hiking boots that give traction on icy surfaces. They’re mysterious (to me, at least), because I haven’t quite figured out how they work. Look at the picture. How does a metal coil wrapped around strands of rubber keep a body from landing prostrate on the ice?
And they’re miraculous (again, to me, at least), because they actually work! My first experience using Yaktrax was hiking the Lake Geneva Trail a few weeks ago. And I’ve used them a few times since, and indeed, I walked right across icy patches without slipping at all.
Which is why, when the lady offered the helpful comment about icy conditions, I wrote “I confidently ventured on.”
Fifteen feet later, the plowed path was nonetheless icy and snow-packed. I know without the Yaktrax I would have to walk gingerly across the surface. I crossed the patch with ease, walking normally. But that section of the trail is flat through the woods, and the few icy patches are no problem.
Coming out of the woods, the trail reaches a bridge spanning the creek. The bridge surface is always treacherous in the winter. Then the path quickly begins the ascent, cutting through the sledding hill, climbing to the pavilion and playground in the park. The slippery, icy ascent.
How would the magical contraptions on my boots work going uphill on ice?
My instinct was to tread gingerly, expecting to slip with the next footfall. But feeling no slippage at all, I quickly resumed a normal pace, as if on firm ground.
With every slick spot thereafter, I found myself more easily trusting the contraptions. In the entire 3 ½- mile hike, they didn’t fail me at all.
I must admit, though, that as I began the easy climb from the bridge, I questioned whether I could trust these things. After all, they’re coils of metal. Seems like metal should slip on ice, I thought. Should I trust them, or tread gingerly as if I weren’t wearing them?
Then a broader, more profound truth struck me.
“One’s trust is only as good as the object of that trust!”
When it comes to footwear, for example, a few years ago I was backpacking a portion of the Ice Age Trail in southern Wisconsin. The trail wends its way through a low-lying area that used to be a lake ages ago. Now it just tends to get soggy after a good rain. And soggy it was when I trudged through it. But I wasn’t concerned as I confidently stepped through sog—my boots were waterproof!
Well, they were supposed to be! They say they are. I trusted that they were.
Except they weren’t!
My socks got soaked. Which led to blisters on my feet. Which led to misery.
My trust was only as good as the object of that trust.
Yes, you’re likely already a couple of steps ahead of me here.
What about the bigger trust issues of life?
Can I really trust the stock market for my future financial security? Can I really trust the government to take care of me? Should I? Can I really trust my employer to be loyal to me as I age? Can I really “trust the science”?
Doubtless, you could come up with similar questions, no?
Let’s probe a bit deeper.
In what am I trusting for my soul’s welfare and ultimate destiny? Upon what truth can I confidently stake my eternity? Or allows me to face this life with meaning and purpose?
I recall my 6th-grade teacher, Mrs. Hughes, teaching the theory of evolution, as did every public school science teacher I had thereafter. Mrs. Hughes personally told me, in essence, “This is just a theory; you don’t have to believe it.” Every other teacher taught the theory as if I should put my trust in it as fact.
Suppose I do? What does such trust yield?
A stable confidence of what comes after life? Not at all.
A deep sense of hope and meaning as a human being in this life? Hardly.
In contrast, God’s Word encourages us to trust that word. Consider, for example, Psalm 119:41-43:
Let your steadfast love come to me, O Lord, your salvation according to your promise; then shall I have an answer for him who taunts me, for I trust in your word. And take not the word of truth utterly out of my mouth, for my hope is in your rules.
In these two sentences, God’s Word offers both the promise of salvation and the basis of hope in this life.
Furthermore, God also calls upon us to trust Him! Consider just a few examples:
You who fear the Lord, trust in the Lord! He is their help and their shield.
Psalm 115:11
And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O Lord, have not forsaken those who seek you.
Psalm 9:10 (ESV)
Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.
Psalm 20:7 (ESV)
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.
Proverbs 3:5–6 (ESV)
You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock.
Isaiah 26:3–4 (ESV)
Remember, trust is only as good as the object of that trust. And these few sample texts demonstrate the worthiness of trusting in the God of the Bible because of His character (summarized in “the name”). A couple also express the benefit of doing so. He serves as help and protection (Psalm 115:11). He doesn’t forsake those who trust in Him (Psalm 9:10). He provides “straight paths” for the journey of life (Proverbs 3:5-6). He keeps the otherwise anxious mind in a state of inexplicable peace (Isaiah 26:3).
Indeed, the Lord God is better than Yaktrax! The psalmists testified:
When I thought, “My foot slips,” your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up.
Psalm 94:18 (ESV)
Bless our God, O peoples; let the sound of his praise be heard, 9 who has kept our soul among the living and has not let our feet slip.
Psalm 66:8–9 (ESV)
So, so much more could be said. Let this brief musing provoke consideration…
Just how good is my trust?
