Leaving Rivendell

New fathers... New brothers... New journey... These stories may seem like they're coming in rapid succession, but the truth is I've had them to tell for some time. I'm simply only doing so now. The path to Mordor began with the first step out of Rivendell. Our first trial took the form of the Snowy Ridge Mountain Range of Wyoming. A trek that spanned across 32 miles, with varying vertical elevations (give or take a thousand feet), over 6 days. Oh, did I mention that 95% of the hike was atop snow that was at least 4 feet deep? That adds a great deal of difficulty when you continue to sink several feet in each step, and then have to climb out each time, otherwise known as "postholing." In my life, this has been the hardest thing I've ever done, physically.

To give the details of each day would take pages, and I'm not sure I'm that patient :)
The highlights of the trek would definately be the first night, the summit, the day after, and our last evening on the mountain.

The first night we camped, truthfully, I was suffering from a pretty good case of altitude sickness, or so it was deemed. I was incredibly tired and exerted, I had a tremendous headache (I don't get headaches), and for the first time in my life, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to hold any food down. For those who know me...well, yeah. I'll put it this way. I usually eat a 12" Subway sub in the time it takes most to eat a 6"er. The reason it was a highlight was because of the shared stories, the fact that it made me worry about whether I could actually make it the rest of the way, and the affirmation I received from the men in the group about what they saw when they looked at me. According to them, my wounds were barely noticeable under my "strong, rugged, aware" exterior (an exterior unbeknownst to me). What made that difficult to hear though, was the fact that what they saw didn't match the condition of my heart. My response was that my exterior was the product of me trying to fight my way through the intense fears and doubts seeded deep in my heart. I wanted the inside to match, or better yet, be the reason for the outside. It seems my battle rages across the senses of the physical, emotional, and spiritual. The first real engagement of my heart there, that evening, made it worth the night's anguish.

Two days later. 2-3 o'clock in the morning. We got up and got ready to climb. The next few hours were probably some of the most grueling of the entire trip. The snow had not hardened a great deal yet, so we were falling through. Adam and I were having trouble, particularly, being the heavier guys. That meant a lot of posthole trudging. Xan and Cory, during that time, became instruments of the Spirit (I'm convinced) to help us confront the different lies and false messages that we each had been told our entire lives. I will say this again. The climb was brutal, but worth it. Dawn broke, and we were still an hour or more from the summit. Amid snow, islands of massive rocks that we climbed, steep vertical ascents, and not knowing just how much further we had to go, it was a huge trial of faith in our guides, faith in ourselves, and faith in the lessons our Father had for us the entire way.

200 yards from the summit, Cory and Xan stopped us, then called us one by one, before sending us the rest of the way on our own. When they called me, they were holding a rock that weighed a good amount. They told me that the rock represented the weight of the lies that I had carried for the last 4 years. Lies stemming from the loneliness that came with the feelings of abandonment during my younger life. Lies persuading me that I'm not worth anyone's time, that I have nothing to offer anyone, and that hiding the depths of who I am, including my deep brokenness, behind layers of humor and unnoticed distance (I keep the deepest parts of me distant from almost everyone) is the only way that anyone will like me. I pushed with everything in my muscles and heart to reach that top, the rock in my arms, and when I finally did, I slammed it down next to Campbell's, proclaiming the statement of my heart that I will not be ruled by this. The lies and sins of the generations of men in my family that have caused so much pain end with me. The effects and massive repurcussions of fathers destroying the spirits of their sons...it ends with me.

Another reason that day was a highlight was because, on the way down, I took down both Xan and Cory when they each tried to tackle me from behind. So, despite what Cory says, he went down big time.

I wish I had known at that moment, on the summit, what I have come to realize now. To end a tidal wave of generationally intensifying pain, you need to stand, turn, and take the full force of it across the chest. Across the heart. The next day, my heart broke under feeling the full pain of that wave. For the first time in quite a long time, my barriers came crashing down...and I wept. Heaving breaths. Convulsing tears. I can count on one hand the number of times that I have really cried in my entire life. This was a true landmark in my soul. For the first time, with the help of Xan, Cory, and my brothers, I believe I was able to finally mourn the intense pain and loss in my heart. I was able to sit and endure the sins of men past, the pain of loneliness, the pain of abandonment. It was the first step in my journey to end it.

The last evening on the mountain was one of great sensation and celebration. As far as sensation goes, our site ran alongside a decent sized river that flowed with enough force to create some smaller scale white water. That afternoon, I sat alongside it and watched the river...felt the wind...listened to the trees as it blew...and something happened. I felt in the core of my spirit a feeling of....belovedness. I felt as if I were in the presence of a man that I would call father. For those who know me, this is significant. It is one of the deepest of holes in my heart, that of a father's delight. I know my father loves me, as I do him, but the deep rootedness of the sins of family men past, which are ending with me, have left my soul empty and undeveloped. Hence the dramatic weeping. So to feel the delight of my Father gave my heart great joy, and I simply sat there and basked in it for as long as I could, by that river. He came to me.

That night, Xan and Cory had been praying over each of us, asking God for the words and images to give us that defined our identities in God's eyes. As they gave us each our words, we knew that they each rang true. These men truly hear from God, for their words touch the deepest areas of our hearts, and bring life. I feel honored whenever I am in their presence. It is truly a gift. They can't wrestle to save their life, though. That night, we sat around a campfire (one of several masterfully crafted by Dan, the Fire Hazard as he has been nicknamed) and shared stories of success, brotherhood, Heavenly Fathering, and the strengths that we saw in each other the brought us all through this intense trial of body and spirit...body in that we were truly exhausted, and spirit in that we each raged battle against the lies seeded in our hearts. 'Rewarding' does not even come close to doing justice in describing this experience. I climbed, I hiked, I bled, I teared, I bled some more, and I fought through with all the fury within me...as did my brothers, Campbell, Adam, and Dan...and we made it. But we also know our journey has just started. Leaving Rivendell was only the beginning.

As far as it all ending with me, I've had a great deal of time to think about what that will take. For it to end, I will have to continue to confront the full weight of it all...the pain, the tears, the work, the battle....and overcome it. The truth is, that calls for a great deal of pain to endure, as I have felt. Even more than I have felt, and I have fear as a result. I don't care though. If that is what it takes for my own father and brothers to heal, my mother to have a source of strength, my wife (someday) to be loved the way she is meant to be, and my sons and daughters (also, someday) to be raised in the authentic strength, wisdom and kindness I am seeking...

So be it...

The Journey

The truth is, for four years, my soul has longed for the fierceness that lays in the heart of a man created by God. Somewhere along the line, whether it be due to loss of my fathered years at an early age or to the way the majority of the Church expects men to act nowadays, I lost it. Or even worse, I have realized, I never received it. God has drawn me here to find it. Alongside my 3 newfound brothers, and I use the word 'brothers' emphatically, under the tutelage of 2 true men, Xan and Cory, my heart has already changed for the dramatically better.

In the short span of less than a week, God's Spirit has moved here to break down barriers that most would find considerable, if not impossible. He is here, and He is moving with force. Through the deepest of trials, one of which we have seen ourselves through, and of which I will write about soon, our hearts are becoming the unapologetically rugged and loving hearts they were meant to be. This is a place where men...true men...will be found, and made. I strive to be one in the company of those men.

Be well.
Josh