A few years back, my husband and I went camping. We drove to a beautiful valley in southern Colorado and found the perfect spot to spend a long weekend. Surrounded by jagged peaks, we cooked over a fire, slept next to a peaceful creek and enjoyed the solitude of being away in God’s creation. Part of our purpose in choosing this location was so that David could summit a nearby peak. David is an experienced mountaineer and has climbed almost all of Colorado’s fifty-two 14,000 ft. peaks. This particular peak had been on his list for a while so our trip put him in the perfect position to summit it.
I never intended to hike the mountain with David, truly. I told him I’d just keep him company on the trail until the route got hard and then I’d turn around and head back to camp.
On our way up the trail, we talked and hiked. We admired the beauty and views. We stopped to take photos and generally enjoyed ourselves as we ambled up the trail together. I was having so much fun that I did not notice just how far I had gone. Before long, the trail made a sharp turn left and ascended up a steep corridor of loose rock called the Lavender Couloir. “Are you sure you want to keep going?” David cautiously asked me. I nodded. The summit was just 1/4 miles away after all. I’d come this far, why stop now?
As we ascended in elevation and neared the summit, I noticed that although it was July, a few pockets of snow and ice remained on the path. Before long, those small pockets of snow and ice turned into slabs. The steep trail got steeper. The rock got looser. The snow got deeper. I found myself in a 50-degree gulley that was covered in snow and ice. The trail was gone. My feet slipped a few times. My heart began to race. I knew it was time for me to stop and turn around.
“I don’t think I should go any further babe, you go on ahead to the summit. I’m going to turn around and start back down. I’ll meet you at the trail junction at the bottom of the couloir.” David agreed it was wise for me to stop and said he’d meet me down below.
We parted ways.
I watched him slowly scale the snow and ice until he disappeared behind an angled rock and made his way toward the summit.
I turned around to start my descent and was smacked with a gust of cold wind as a thick fog rolled up the valley. The view back down the couloir was dizzying. One misstep would leave me somersaulting down a rocky chute to my certain death. Another gust of wind caught off balance, I quickly pressed my back into the wall of the couloir for stability.
Mental alarms fired off in all directions: I am not safe – the weather is turning – I need to get down – I’m exposed – I’m afraid – get down – God, help me – don’t fall – stay alive – stay alert – think clearly – don’t move.
I panicked.
Frozen against the cold rock wall, I dared not move. I could not find a safe way to begin my descent. Every option looked steep and slippery and perilous. For 30 minutes, I clung to that rock wall as if my life depended on it – which, to be honest, it did – while I waited for David to return.
Fear and Suffering Coexist
So often it feels like our backs are against a wall and no safe options exist.
How do we safely navigate through mental health struggles when it feels like the darkness will not lift? How do we feel secure in the midst of job loss or crippling grief? What do we do when we don’t feel protected in a relationship? How do we proceed when every direction has dire pitfalls? One step in the wrong direction and it seems the bottom might fall out.
Fear accompanies suffering to one degree or another – it’s hard to have one without the other, but it is possible to acknowledge your fear without it overtaking you. In the midst of our distress, God promises to be with us every step of the way.
fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Isaiah 41:10
In Christ, we can walk through our trials aware of all fearful the things pressing in on us without being buried by them. I’ve been through a lot of scary things in my life and I can say with certainty, God will see us through it all. That doesn’t necessarily mean that He will remove our scary circumstances, but He will see us through them.
When God Doesn’t Feel Safe
Before we can turn to God for safety and security, we must first affirm that God is actually safe.
But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the
Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all your works.
Psalm 73:28
If you are even the least bit suspicious of God’s intentions in your life, it’s going to be hard to turn to Him in times of need. If you hold God responsible for any of your hardships, turning to Him for help might feel strenuous, even if only at a subconscious level. You may find yourself wanting to draw close to Him and also backing away from Him at the same time.
I have talked to many faithful Christians who proclaim God’s goodness but secretly harbor fears that maybe He has forgotten about them, or is mad at them, or is trying to punish them. I walked this road for a long time, believing that I must have done something to upset God – why else would He allow suffering to linger so long in my life?
If this resonates with you, I would encourage you to spend some time pondering when you first began to doubt God’s goodness in your life and invite Him to help you repair the areas where you don’t feel like you can trust Him. Scripture illuminates the truth of God’s character and reframes our distrust.
If you are walking a hard road right now, fearful about what is ahead and maybe a little fearful of God’s plans- I want you to know, you are safe with Christ. Jesus walked through death and back to show you that he is a safe place for you to turn when you are afraid. Sacrificial love is trustworthy.
Turning to God for Safety
God’s presence is your protection and you have it in full (Psalm 30:20). God invites us to turn to Him anytime we feel unsafe. As we seek Him in uncertainty, He guards us with His peace.
One way I turn to God when I feel afraid is simply by being honest with Him about my fears. I confess my helplessness and I tell God about what’s on my heart. There’s no need to hide emotions from God, He knows them already. Being honest is an entry point for experiencing God’s security.
Another way to feel safe in God is to allow Scripture to form an image in your mind of a “safe place” that you can picture when things get hard. Maybe this is a picture of sitting under God’s wing (Psalm 91:4). Let your imagination run wild with what God’s fortress might look like (Psalm 18:2). Can you picture it? What color is it? Does it have doors? Are there rooms inside? Maybe a cozy fireplace to sit by? Can you see Jesus inside?
I personally use the imagery of John 10 and the Good Shepherd when I am afraid. Jesus describes himself as both the door and the Good Shepherd in this passage. In my mind, I can see an expansive pasture with green grass, a creek, paths and lush trees surrounded by a thick rock wall. Jesus stands at the gate, letting only those with permission through. I see Jesus walking through the pasture, watching over me. It’s a scene of peace and serenity for me when life gets overwhelming. Pausing to take a minute or two to hold this image of a calm pasture in my mind does wonders for my nervous system in the midst.
Whether you are uncertain about a next step you need to take or are facing health trials or are in the grips of relational upheaval, God invites you to seek Him for safety and security right now. There is no safer place you can be.
In Christ, you are safe.
David eventually reached me on his descent from the summit. He helped me off the ledge and navigated us safely down the couloir. Sometimes God’s safety comes in tangible ways like having someone to point out secure handholds in a treacherous couloir.
