What a Grueling 100 Mile Hike Taught Me

A couple of months ago, my husband, our daughter Maggie, and I set out on a 100-mile hike.

My husband was probably the most concerned about finishing. He’s dealt with knee problems for years, including surgery. I figured I could do it. I’d just be slow.

And I was. I have the blisters to prove it 🙂

What I didn’t anticipate was how much we’d learn about each other along the way. Or how much we’d get on each other’s nerves.

I’m not kidding. By day two, I was hiking alone, mentally working through where I might live and how I’d manage life on my own.

That’s how well our beautiful family adventure was going.

But as the miles went by, I noticed something. We were all walking the same trail, but we were having three completely different experiences.

On days when I felt strong, someone else might be struggling. When my blisters were especially painful, Maggie could practically skip past me. My husband was unstoppable going uphill, but going downhill with those knees was another story.

The same trail. The same destination. Very different struggles.

And I started thinking about how much that resembles life.

We can love the people walking beside us and still have no idea how difficult their particular stretch of the journey feels. Sometimes we’re so focused on our own aching feet that we forget somebody else is carrying something we can’t feel.

And then there was this little moment.

Maggie stopped to blow on a dandelion.

In the middle of a hundred miles, sore muscles, blisters, exhaustion, and a few family disagreements, she noticed something beautiful enough to stop for.

I’ve thought about that moment a lot.

Jesus told Peter, when he began comparing his journey with another disciple’s, “What is that to you? You follow Me.” (John 21:22)

Maybe there’s something there for all of us.

We’re not all going to move at the same pace. We’re not going to struggle with the same things. And even the people we love most won’t always understand what a particular mile is costing us.

Maybe the most important thing about the journey isn’t how quickly we finish, but who we’re becoming—and how we love each other—along the way.