Look for the Arrows

A rage-filled roar echoed across the desert mountain, stopping us in our tracks. A search behind us confirmed our fears as we located the hikers we had passed on the trail.

Hadn’t they seen the arrows?

Earlier that afternoon, Kevin and I had reached the summit of Picketpost Mountain, a 4.2 out-and-back trail with a 2000-foot elevation change in about two miles.

On the way down the mountain, we met a group of college students huddled together in a narrow section. We soon realized their dilemma.

They had stopped to help a petrified friend navigate the steep descent, step by agonizing step. The five friends patiently talked him down each boulder, encouraging and celebrating his victories, inch by inch.

“Are you good?” we asked.

“Yeah, we got this.”

Thirty minutes later we heard the yell. An angry roar. Once. Twice. Three times. The same voice over and over again.

Whipping around, we surveyed the mountain behind us. No other voice cried for help. Nobody yelled for assistance. We heard no rocks or bodies falling. Eventually, we located six small silhouettes in the distance, in a narrow canyon. Stopped. Not moving.

“They went left when they should have gone to the right! Can they get down that canyon?” I wondered.

“Be tough going,” Kevin replied, shaking his head.

“Do you think they know about the arrows?” I asked.

“I hope so.”

Years ago—before people knew not to do such things—or they knew and were just idiots—someone spray-painted red arrows on the stones marking the trail. Weather and time had washed the paint away until the arrows were barely noticeable. The faint marks pointed the way so hikers could avoid wrong turns that led to drop-offs at cliff edges.

“I’d yell too if I were afraid of heights and had to repeat the steep sections I had just conquered. What should we do?”

“Let’s give it a bit.”

For ten minutes we watched their progress, keeping an eye on the six tiny figures. Eventually the group backtracked, making the difficult turn out of the canyon.

We cheered from a distance as they inched along the edge of the mountain until they reached what we knew was a flat section.

While facing their fears, they had found the arrows. And safety.

On life’s mountains, I would like to have an entire downloaded map of each step of my journey. Especially so I can avoid dead-ends with sheer drop-offs. Instead, God provides arrows to mark the way.

In the book, The Next Right Thing, author Emily P. Freeman writes, that when making decisions, “pay attention not only to what’s happening on the outside but to what is moving on the inside. Look for arrows, not answers. If God has something to tell you, and you continue to place yourself before him, he won’t let you miss it.”

I like this thought about listening to what is happening inside and outside of our lives while putting our trust in God. And the thing I like best of all?

God allows U-Turns!