I had very little exposure to death as a child. There was the rare funeral for a grandparent or great-grandparent. I heard the occasional announcement from the pulpit that some elderly church member or shut-in had passed. I said goodbye to a couple of family dogs and the occasional, underfed goldfish. But I didn’t lose friends, read obituaries, or keep up with celebrity deaths. Death was rare in my childhood world, and that was alright by me.
All that has changed. An unpleasant aspect of growing older, I’m finding, is an awareness of death. I’ve now said goodbye to my mom, four grandparents, and a great-grandparent. I’ve learned of the deaths of a dozen classmates, about 5% of my high school graduating class, some who tragically took their own lives. The deaths of some of my favorite musicians and actors continue to pile up. I’ve eulogized a few friends from pulpits and sat through a few dozen funeral services. My wife and I even cowrote a book, The Eulogy, partly based on our experience caring for my dying mom.
More recently, we learned of the passing of Michelle Ashby, a long-time family friend, after her courageous, decades-long battle with cancer. She was a marigold lover, and I’ll be planting one of those in our garden today in her honor.
Last Monday, Michael Polutta, another family friend, died from a heart attack at age 58, while out mowing the grass. Just like that, this man of God was gone, at least in the physical sense. He wasn’t “some really old guy,” although my younger readers might argue that 58 is “getting up there.” He wasn’t out of shape—Michael was a fitness nut known for his CrossFit interval training. He wasn’t doing anything reckless. Just a 58-year-old guy out mowing the lawn.
Deaths aren’t increasing, of course, only my awareness of them. Like wrinkles, heartburn, and a few extra pounds, exposure to death is a part of growing up and growing old. As humans, we all have a terminal illness. None of us are getting out of this world alive.
I was blessed to be able to live-stream Michael’s memorial service this past weekend. Heartbroken family and friends gathered. Beautiful hymns were sung. We listened as various friends and family members stood behind the podium to tell Michael’s story. He had an impact on the world—an impact on people, in ways big and small. He loved God and the church. He loved and cared for his wife and children. He was a devoted friend to many. He was a talented musician who built more than a dozen custom guitars. He loved Palmetto Bible Camp and served there for many decades. Michael took the many talents God gave him, along with a capacity to love, and did something incredible with that. He turned the 58 years God granted him into a masterpiece!
The following day, Janet and I sat at the breakfast table, relaying some of the highlights of Michael’s service to her parents. I said something along the lines of, “You know, I don’t really like the whole eulogy system. Who came up with that? People line up at a memorial service to beautifully honor and pay tribute to the deceased, but he or she is already gone. He can’t hear them. I would love for Michael (or Michelle, or anyone who has passed away) to be able to hear the words spoken at their memorials. I want them to appreciate the impact they had on so many people. Why do we wait until they are dead to lay all that out? That’s a messed-up system. I mean, it’s good for their loved ones to hear all those things, but it would be even cooler for the person who died to feel that love and know that impact before they leave this world. There’s got to be a better system.”
Papa Raymond, my 87-year-old father-in-law, sat across from me, listening to my rant while nibbling on his morning strawberry strudel. He was adorned in solid blue, long-sleeved cotton pajamas, with his cane resting against his chair. With the addition of stripes, he would have passed for an elderly prisoner, perhaps incarcerated for the crime of distributing weekly S’mores without a license.
Like Jesus giving a parable, Papa Raymond cleared his throat and dropped this John 12:43 truth bomb on me:
“It’s not about the praise of men. Our goal is to please God.”
Mic drop.
As Papa digested his last bite of strudel, I digested his words.
“The praise of men.”
Isn’t that what we often focus on? Isn’t that what my eulogy system rant was about?
In 1 John 2:16-17, the apostle John writes, “For all that is in the world-the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and the pride of life-is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever.”
The praise of men. The pride of life. To some extent, it affects all of us.
Look at my new big house (or car, or boat, or…)
Have I mentioned my book sales figures lately?
I wonder how many “likes” this social media post or blog will get?
With just the right bikini, in just the right pose, I bet I can go over a million Instagram followers!
Have I not posted a picture of my bulging muscles at the gym recently? Let me fix that.
Pretty sure my casserole was the crowd favorite at the potluck
We’re in Maui! If 200 photos of our adventure aren’t enough, we’ll post more!
Look at our baby/child/teenager/adult and what they accomplished! They’re an honor student! They just got a full ride to college. To help you remember that, I’m getting a bumper sticker!
I’m not knocking all of that. I like to see your vacation photos. I’m happy that your teenager was named Homecoming Queen and glad you shared that. Your green bean casserole was amazing, and you should be proud of it. Sometimes your accomplishments, especially your acts of service, inspire me to be a better person.
What I’m knocking is a tendency by some, or at least by me, to focus more on the praise of men than pleasing God.
I focus more on accomplishing things than living faithfully. As I sip my first cup of coffee in the morning, I rarely ask myself, “What is something amazing I could do for God today?” More often, the focus is on pleasing myself, impressing the boss, satisfying the spouse, or getting the day’s chores accomplished and errands run. God being pleased is too often an afterthought, if thought of at all.
I have no doubt what was most important to Michael and Michelle was not the praise of men, but pleasing God. That’s the kind of people they were. The only words they wanted to hear, and undoubtedly did hear, were, “Well done, good and faithful servant.. Enter into the joy of your lord.”
Rank-ordering trails is like rank-ordering your children, unless one of them is Charles Manson. The highly subjective task involves dozens of variables. Was the trek challenging, leaving you with a sense of accomplishment? Did you meet someone interesting along the way and “talk story”? Are you into wildlife, rock climbing, magnificent vistas, or something historically significant? Do you prefer mountains, watering holes, or jungles? Want an out and back or a loop? How did the weather shape your opinion? Do you want “sustained excellence” throughout the hike or simply a big payoff at the end?
After considering many factors, I ultimately based my list on which hikes I would want to return to if I could only do a limited number, like one or five. With that in mind, let’s countdown my Top 10 Maui Hikes:
10. Waikamoi Ridge Trail – 1 out of 5 stars. After 9.5 miles on the winding Road to Hana, you may be ready to stretch your legs, sip coconut water, and release tension. This is a good place to do that. But I would stick to the picnic area at the beginning of the trail which has the only view. Beyond that, you’re looking at a .9-mile, densely wooded jungle trail with lots of roots and some mud. There are too many better sights and trails along the Road to Hana to spend much time, if any, on this one. For a more detailed description… https://roadtohana.com/waikamoi-nature-trail.php
9. Kuloa Point Trail – 2 out of 5 stars. Beyond Hana, at the very popular Oheo Gulch, you’ll find two popular hiking trails, and this is the lesser of the two. This short, ½-mile hike is well-suited for families, even Grandma. The payoff is arriving at the pools of Oheo Gulch and watching them spill into the ocean. These 22 majestic pools of water were closed to swimming when we were there. Had they been open, this trail would have rated higher. For more on the hike… https://www.hikingproject.com/trail/7017715/kuloa-point-trail
8. Twin Falls Trail – 3 out of 5 stars. This is the first significant stopping point on the Road to Hana, just beyond mile marker 2. After getting a snack, perhaps some coconut candy, at the food truck at the entrance, you’ll take a leisurely, less than 1-mile stroll through the Wailele Farm. Colorful flowers and trees line the path, and a stream runs alongside you. Suggest taking the branches off the main trail to explore the stream and stop for a photo at the first set of falls—the Twin Falls. Be careful—in 2019, a 37-year-old man died here after jumping from the falls into the lower pool and hitting his head.
You’ll eventually ford a small stream and cross a bridge. Soon the beautiful Caveman Falls will come into view. At this point, I had 3 decisions to make:
1) Do I get in the water? Answer: Yes! I’m in Maui! No regrets!
2) Do I swim over to the falls and let them crash down upon me? Yes! Totally exhilarating! (But only do this if you’re a good swimmer.)
3) Do I go over to a vine and swing from it? Answer: No! Do not do this! My short swing from a harmless-looking vine that others had been swinging from caused rocks to dislodge from above me. These rocks crashed down upon my head, arm, and back. I had 11 staples put in my head and will have scars there and probably on my back. Shout out to the Paia Fire Department for being in the vicinity and stopping the bleeding! And also, for only moderately flirting with my wife in the back of the 4-wheeler while I was being transported for triage.
7. Hosmer Grove Loop Trail – 3 out of 5 stars. Just inside Haleakala National Park, at about mile marker 10.5 on Highway 378, you’ll turn left to find the Hosmer Grove Campground and the start of the Hosmer Grove Trail. This half-mile trail is especially suited for tree and bird lovers. In 1909, Ralph Hosmer (1874-1963), the first Superintendent of Forestry of the Territory of Hawaii, created Hosmer Grove as an experimental forestry plot at the 8,500-9,000-foot level on the slopes of Haleakala. Shout out to Hosmer!
Those cedar, spruce, pine, eucalyptus, and other seedlings are now all grown up! In addition to the wonderful trees, you’ll find a variety of beautiful birds, including the colorful honeycreeper which is found nowhere else on earth. For more on this loop trail… https://www.hawaii-guide.com/maui/hiking-trails/hosmer_grove_loop_trail
6. Iao Valley State Park – 3.5 out of 5 stars. Most of the high-end resorts, sandy beaches, and touristy things to do in Maui are in West Maui (Lahaina and vicinity) and South Maui (from Kihei to Makena). Central Maui, on the other hand, is known more for its airport, more affordable shopping (e.g., WalMart, Costco), business, and politics. However, a must-do stop in Central Maui is the Iao Valley State Park.
On your way there, stop at Kepaniwai Park, a waterside park with a Japanese temple and short walks in themed gardens celebrating Hawaii’s culture. This is a great spot for a picnic along the creek, with the West Maui mountains and giant banyan trees surrounding you. A little farther up the road you reach Iao Valley State Park, which comes with a $10 parking fee, payable at an entrance kiosk. This is not a “hike” in the traditional sense, more of a walk through and around incredibly lush scenery in a stream-cut valley. In fact, this valley is unofficially the “wettest place on earth” with more than 400” of rainfall each year!
There are opportunities to read about the rich, but violent, history of the valley and gaze at the massive, natural rock formation known as Iao Needle. If you want to explore, go down to the water and head along a path going upstream. Or hop in the waters under the bridge for a quick dip. For more information… http://mauiguidebook.com/central-maui/iao-valley-state-park/
5. Keoneheehee – Sliding Sands Trail – 4.5 out of 5 stars. As we begin our Top 5 hikes, we are qualitatively going up a full star. These next 5 are something special—”must do” hikes. Each one offers something unique and exciting and could easily garner a #1 designation depending on what you’re looking for in a hike.
Upon arriving at the Visitors Center atop Haleakala Volcano, you’ll be treated to a jaw-dropping view of the inside of this dormant volcano. Seeing it for the first time was my second favorite moment in Maui (the first was seeing and then hanging out underwater with a sea turtle). If you get up super early and get to the summit in time for sunrise, you’ll get to experience what Mark Twain described as “the most sublime spectacle I have ever witnessed.” (Twain’s second most sublime spectacle, BTW, was watching Aunt Polly force Tom to whitewash that fence.)
Once you recover from the initial shock of peering down into the erosion crater, you can hike it! This is as close as I’ll ever get to walking on Mars. Many people consider it the #1 hike in Maui and I get that. A few things to keep in mind:
1) It can get downright cold at 10K+ feet, especially in the morning, so dress in layers and drink plenty of water.
2) The out and back trail is 12 miles long and what goes down must come up! If you go all the way down (we did not), you’ll then have to ascend along the sliding sands, with no shade, at 10,000 feet elevation. It’s not technically difficult, and the elevation gain/loss is consistent, but recliner lifestyle folks will find the climb out challenging. If you don’t have a full day or are not in good shape, just go a reasonable distance down the trail and then return.
3) Be sure to stay on the trail, so you don’t damage the rare and native Silverswords that grow near the trail.
4) If you’re interested in spending the night, there are cabins on the floor of the crater, available using a lottery system. Had we done that, this trail probably would’ve made the Top 2.
4. Waihee Ridge Trail – 4.5 out of 5 stars. First, let’s get the negative out of the way. This popular, northwest Maui trail has a small parking lot—we had to wait 10 minutes in a queue for a spot to open. Second, the first hundred yards or so of the trail are on a paved, very steep incline. Don’t let that discourage you. And don’t release any wheelchair-bound loved ones at the top of it—they’ll end up in downtown Wailuku. It gets (mostly) better. Third, the trail is very muddy in spots and chances are good you will slip and fall at some point.
Still, this is one of my favorite trails on Maui. The 4.5-mile, out and back hike is challenging! Janet will tell you she struggled at times, thought about quitting several times, and fell in the mud once. A little over a mile in, we hit a point where I didn’t know if she was going to cry, get mad, or find another gear and finish. Thankfully, she found that other gear, and I’m so proud of her!
In addition to being a challenging hike, the journey up the spine of the Waihee Valley offers lush scenery, a view of a waterfall, exciting ridgeline hiking, and (weather permitting) a gorgeous view of the coastal valley below. You’ll encounter rare birds, magnificent ferns, and tourists with muddy shorts and knees! It was our most difficult Maui hike, but also one of the best! For more information… http://mauiguidebook.com/adventures/waihee-ridge-trail/
3. Hoapili Trail – 5 out of 5 stars. When I get excited thinking about and describing a hiking trail, I know it has earned five stars. Such is the case with the Hoapili Trail. Back in 1790, or perhaps a little earlier, Haleakala erupted for the last time (maybe) and spewed lava along Maui’s southeast shore at La Perouse Bay, literally growing the island. Today, you’ll find a jagged, lava rock coastline, sea estuaries teeming with life, pristine snorkeling waters, secluded beaches, wildflowers, crashing waves, possible dolphin sightings, gnarled trees, lava fields as far as the eye can see, and wild goats. For the inner kid in me who wants not just to hike, but to explore nature, this hike has it all. It’s the kind of coastal hike an imaginative computer programming might come up with for a video game.
The full hike is a 6-mile round trip, but you may opt to turn around earlier once you’ve gotten the full lava experience. Wear sturdy hiking boots as you travel this surreal, rocky landscape, straight out of a Star Wars set. You also may want to bring an extra sandwich and bottle of water for the homeless person you’ll likely find at the trailhead parking lot here, and sometimes at other trailheads. For a more detailed description of the trail… https://www.maui-hikes.com/hoapili-trail
2. Kapalua Coastal Trail – 5 out of 5 stars. This 2.5-mile trail is more of a walk than a hike, but what a picturesque walk it is! It’s the perfect trail for families who want to see Maui’s beauty, without the difficulty of some of the other hikes on this list. It would also be a great running or dog-walking trail.
Like the Hoapili Trail, this one has a little something for everyone, including beaches, tidal pools, lava rocks, a wonderful view of Molokai, a bird sanctuary, great snorkeling (Kapalua Bay Beach), thundering surfs, sea cliffs, resort views, surfers, and more. My favorite part was exploring the lava formations, something you just don’t get to do at too many places in the world. For more information… https://www.alltrails.com/trail/hawaii/maui/kapalua-coastal-trail?u=i
1. Pipiwai Trail – 5 out of 5 stars. Coming in at #1 is the 4-mile (round trip) Pipiwai Trail, located at the Oheo Gulch (7 Sacred Pools) in northeast Maui, in the Haleakala National Park. What a hike! Getting to it could be considered a plus or a minus, depending on whether you love or hate the thought of driving the winding Road to Hana and then another 12 miles. Once there, you’re in for a treat! What makes it so special?
1) It’s challenging. Not terribly strenuous, but the 600 feet of elevation gain, in a jungle, on a warm day, will cause you to break a sweat. Plan on 2 hours if you’re in good shape.
2) It’s very well maintained—the national park system is obviously proud of it, as they should be. And a shout out to them for giving a free annual pass to all national parks for active and retired military members!
3) There is an AMAZING bamboo forest! I’ve walked through scenic bamboo patches before and admired the beauty. Multiply that by 1000! This is not a patch but a forest—tens of thousands of 40’ high bamboo trees, tightly packed together and swaying in the wind. Walking through them, sometimes along a boardwalk, was mystical, magical, and marvelous!
4) Massive banyan trees! The Lahaina Banyan is the largest and most impressive in Maui, and its children somehow ended up on the Pipiwai Trail. I kept waiting for Tim Burton to descend from the massive, intertwined branches with butterflies emerging from his nostrils.
5) Makahiku Falls! Stop at a scenic overlook to catch your breath and take in these incredible falls. It looks like a place where God might have considered placing Adam and Eve back in the day. There are off-limits, fenced off spur trails leading from here to “infiniti pool” atop Makahiku Falls and another to its base. In 2003, a 39-year-old high school chemistry teacher from Kentucky and his 11-year-old daughter died while taking one of these spurs and crossing a shallow stream to get to the waterfall. A flashflood hit the canyon and a 6-foot wall of water swept them downstream. Two other family members watched in horror and were later awarded a $5M settlement. Now the area is off-limits.
6) Various bridges over Pipiwai stream, with views of more step waterfalls and pools…and then a stream crossing—not difficult, but your feet are getting wet.
7) And finally, the big payoff…the 400’ Waimoiku Falls! Your hour or so of hiking is rewarded with a stunning view of this magnificent waterfall towering above you. We complied with the sign warning not to go closer or be subject to a $100 fine. Other visitors went right on by the sign to the base of the falls.
There you have it, my Top 10 Hikes in Maui. For pictures from each of these hikes, check out the Maui albums on my Facebook page or the above links.
I should also mention a hike I had hoped to do but did not get to: the Wai’anapanapa State Park & Coastal Trail – This was one of my must-do stops at Mile Marker 32 on the Road to Hana. Sadly, when we arrived at the parking lot, they told us entry required a pass, available only online, and they were sold out for the day. Thus, we never got to see the famed black sand beach, twisted foliage, lava caves and tubes, and even a blowhole. I suspect it would have been a more jungle-like version of the previously described Hoapili Trail and Kapalua Coastal Trail. I also suspect it would have fallen in my Top 6 or 7 hikes. For more info on the Waianapanapa Coastal Trail… https://www.alltrails.com/trail/hawaii/maui/waianapanapa-coast-trail-south?u=i
There are many other hiking trails on Maui. Some were longer than we wanted to tackle for a day hike…
If you’ve never been to Maui, I hope you can go one day. There’s a reason the Conde Nast Traveler readers have voted it the “top island in the world” for 20 consecutive years. While you’re there, I hope you get to experience some of these amazing hikes in God’s beautiful creation!
Trying to explain God is futile. Trying to interpret his providence is like repeatedly pushing the button at a crosswalk in order to make the light change faster. His thoughts are higher than our thoughts and his ways are higher than our ways. (Isaiah 55:8-9) He is God and we are not. Try as we might, we’re not going to adequately define him or put him in a box.
Still, I’m part of a group of Christians who believe that God is at work in the world. He loves us and providentially cares for us. He ensures that, ultimately, all things work together for good. (Romans 8:28) That doesn’t mean today will seem “good” or easy—mine wasn’t. You may be fighting cancer, trying to make ends meet, or fighting to save your marriage. I get that. What it does mean is that, for those who put their faith in God—who trust and obey—your story ends well…regardless of how or when it ends.
Today, our 10th day on Maui, started out with great promise. We were finally going to begin our journey on the Road to Hana—Maui’s #1 attraction. The 53-mile long, picturesque, curvy road is like a highway of undiscovered treasures waiting to be opened. Those who know me well will not be surprised that I have done extensive research and had a plan. Over a period of three non-consecutive days, Janet and I would travel the road in three sections and make 29 different stops, to include notable nature hikes, funky food huts, historic church buildings, and scenic overlooks. Getting behind the wheel this morning, I felt like a wide-eyed 8-year-old on Christmas morning.
As boxer and renowned philosopher Mike Tyson once put it, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” Today I got punched in the mouth.
At mile marker 2, the first recommended stop on the Road to Hana, we pulled into a rocky parking lot at the Twin Falls trailhead. The one-mile, roundtrip hike through a rainforest is easy, accessible, and breathtaking. We stopped for photos along the way and even had the opportunity to ford a shallow stream.
Upon arriving at the Falls, Janet asked if I was going in for a dip. Of course, she already knew the answer. I have a bit of an adventurous streak in me that compels me to go on long hikes, explore the unknown, stretch my comfort zone, and extract every ounce of fun from whatever setting I’m in. When I’m in Maui for what may be my only trip here, at a waterfall I may never see again, I’m going to get wet! It’s how I’m wired.
About 11 a.m., I swam over to the waterfall and let the cold, refreshing water crash down upon me. So exhilarating! Along with the other tourists frolicking in the water around me, I felt so alive! This was a special place—I had opened the first of 29 Road to Hana gifts!
As I turned to swim back to shore, I noticed a mother and her three children off to my left. One of the boys, about 10 years old, was up on a boulder, just a couple feet above the waterline, holding on to a long vine that extended from the roof of the cavern. Clutching the vine, he jumped from the rock, swung out into the water, and dropped with a scream and a splash. How fun! The little voice in my head spoke up, “You’ve got to do that!”
I swam over toward the vine and watched as the other children took their turns on the swinging vine. I realized they are children and I am not. I understood they are little, lightweight bluegills and I am a pudgy, 55-year-old manatee. But the voice in my head persisted, “You’ve got to do this!” As Seals and Crofts once put it, “We may never pass this way again.” Carpe diem!
I stepped up on the rock, steadied myself, and reached for the vine. I looked out to ensure the landing zone was plenty deep and free of obstructions. As vine/rope swings go, this one was pretty lame. I would travel 8 or 9 feet, at most, and then plop into the water with a splash.
I gripped the vine as high as I could, jumped off the rock, and swung just a few feet before releasing my grip and splashing into the water. But right as I hit the water, something came crashing down on my head! That something turned out to be a dozen or so rocks that had dislodged in the cavern ceiling above me, although the vine remained in place.
As I staggered to my feet, the mom swimming nearby, with a look of horror on her face, said, “Oh my! You’re bleeding bad! You need to get to shore!” I looked down and my entire chest was covered in blood, along with my hands. My first thought was to put direct pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, so I reached for the source of pain—the back of my head—and applied pressure. As Janet scrambled to make her way over from the other side of the shore, a man steadied me and helped me to the shallow rocks. I never lost consciousness but I’m pretty sure I was in shock for several minutes.
What happened next may be considered by some to be “good luck” or “random good coincidence.” But as a believer, I’m not ruling God out of the equation. Granted, I can’t calculate the spiritual equation—can’t fully explain it. But somehow, someway, I believe God was involved, providing providential care. I don’t know how else to explain it.
First, at the moment the rocks came crashing down on my head, a couple of firemen were nearby doing a safety inspection of the trail, due to the heavy rains that had recently fallen. They hurried over to me and took over, treating the gash in my head and examining the abrasions on my back and right arm. They were calm, collected, and reassuring—true professionals. God bless them! Joining them was an older woman of German descent who we assume is an employee of the farm this trail is on. She just happened to have a 4-wheeler!
So, I rode shotgun as Janet and one of the firemen got in the backseat. With blood still trickling down my head, I overheard Janet strike up a conversation with the fireman. It turns out he’s a fireman originally from Chicago, and she binge watches Chicago Fire, a show about hunky firefighters from Chicago. So the two of them had a lot in common and a lot to talk about. Don’t mind me! I’ll be up here with a gushing head wound if you need me! Just messing—but I’ll probably get her a Firemen’s calendar for Christmas!
After our half-mile journey on a way too bumpy trail, we were met at the trailhead by several other firemen. They examined my body, reapplied bandages, and asked a bunch of questions, in search of concussion symptoms. To her credit, Janet did not mention any suspected injuries of herself to them.
We declined their offer to call an ambulance. Janet felt comfortable driving the 30 or so minutes back into town and to the nearest hospital. She drove the curvy road like a champ!
Janet dropped me off at the ER check-in, a tent just outside the main building, while she went to park. I was surrounded by patients with an array of ailments. And here’s where God’s providence seemed to be working overtime again. I struck up a conversation with a patient sitting directly across from me, also in the queue to be treated. I’ll call him Andy.
I immediately hit it off with this 31-year-old of Indian descent, who spent most of his life in Georgia. We somehow connected. I explained what brought me to the ER and he reciprocated. Andy came to the island a little over a year ago on business, intending to stay a short while, and then Covid hit. He has an ongoing struggle with alcoholism and was there at the ER to get treatment—“to detox.” Our conversation turned to why we were in Maui which led to a rich conversation on our faith journeys. He has roots in Hinduism but is searching for answers and is “looking for Jesus.” What an opportunity!
By this time, Janet had parked the car and returned to join in on the conversation. We invited Andy to come worship with us and do lunch or just hang out. He intends to do so, hopefully by next Sunday, when his detox is over. I asked if I could pray for him and he said that would be great. About halfway through the prayer, I became overwhelmed with emotion and started to tear up…something that also happened two months ago while praying with my dad. More than anything, I think it dawned on me that the incident near the waterfall, bad as it was, could have been far worse. I, along with that nearby family with children, could have been killed. God spared us. I also felt the emotion of the opportunity God had given me to minister to a young man in the fight of his life. Maybe that, and not snorkeling with sea turtles, is why The Johnsons are really on Maui.
I eventually got taken to a room inside where I got 5 shots of anesthetic, 8 staples in the head, a cleansing of the head, arm and back wounds, a tetanus shot, and a prescription for antibiotic. After waiting 35 minutes for the shot, a nurse came in to check the wounds and said I needed 3 more staples. Those 3 staples felt far worse than the first 8—maybe the anesthetic had worn off some. I can only describe the pain as, well, someone shooting staples in your head.
So now we’re back home and I’m reflecting on the day that was.
I’m so impressed with Janet, the love of my life, for her calmness, her driving an injured man along the curvy Road to Hana, and her washing around my head wounds this evening.
I’m just overflowing with thankfulness to God, perhaps more than I’ve ever been before.
He spared my life and has given me a new lease on life.
He saw fit, somehow, to have firemen nearby as blood gushed from my head…and provided a sweet, little German woman on a 4-wheeler.
And, most importantly, he gave me the opportunity to pray with a young man and talk to him about Jesus. We talked (texted) again tonight, just before he was admitted. I hope you’ll pray for Andy too—God knows his real name.
Day 10 in Maui had some pain, for sure. But it also, I believe, had some providence.
And oh, by the way, had those rocks killed me, that would have been okay, too.
I recently contacted a long-time friend and fellow author, Lynne, to ask a favor. I wanted her to take a call from another long-time friend and up-and-coming writer. This young man was looking for advice on writing Christian fiction and Lynne was uniquely qualified to give it. She said, “I would be happy to talk to him. So many people have poured into my life and writing. I love opportunities to pour into others.”
Our conversation and that phrase—poured out—have been looping in my head ever since. The way I get relief from ideas clanging around in my head at all hours of the day and night is to write about them. So here goes…
“So many people have poured into my life.”
I think Lynne speaks for all of us. I got to thinking this morning about those who have poured into my life. An incomplete list includes…
Parents who sacrificed time, money, and energy to raise me.
Teachers who taught me everything from reading and writing to algebra and business law.
Coaches who taught me how to dribble a basketball, field a grounder, and pull as lead blocker on a sweep.
Air Force leaders who taught me about leading people, managing budgets, and accomplishing the mission.
Relatives—particularly sons, siblings, and in-laws—who encourage me regularly with a reassuring phone call, text, or piping hot S’more.
Friends who know me well enough to know it’s time to take Steve for a coffee or a hike.
Preachers and Bible class teachers who have taught me to love God, obey his word, and try my best to live like his Son.
A wife who, every day, has a knack for knowing which of my “battery cells” need water and then topping them off.
A God who pours out his Spirit on me whenever I humble myself and allow him to.
I’m profoundly thankful for the people who have poured into my life and continue to do so. I haven’t thanked you enough.
But don’t miss Lynne’s second statement…
“I love opportunities to pour into others.”
My friend is on to something. At some point in our lives we have to make a conscious effort to go beyond just getting poured into. We have to do some pouring ourselves. We become the parent, coach, teacher, spouse, and friend who pours our lives into others. That’s where real joy comes in. That’s the essence of being a Christ follower. That’s why Lynne was willing to take the call.
The Apostle Paul knows something about being poured out. In Philippians 2:17, he writes, “But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you.” Paul is referring to the Old Testament practice of pouring a drink offering in worship. A priest would sacrifice a lamb, ram, or bull, and then he would pour wine beside the altar. The wine was “poured out”—all of it.
Upon becoming a Christian, Paul picked up his spiritual pitcher, so to speak, and began pouring blessings on others. He was about as all-in on Jesus and faith as you’ll find in Scripture. When we read the powerful words that he wrote and consider his example, he continues pouring into our lives…two thousand years later. Eventually Paul would die for his faith—the ultimate act of being poured out. Of course, a sinless Christ, the Lamb of God, did the same for us.
I’ll leave you with two thoughts:
1. To be in a position to pour into someone’s life—to serve, to give, and to love—you have to have something in the pitcher. All the better if your pitcher is over-flowing to the point it can’t help but spill out on those in your vicinity. One of the best ways to keep your spiritual pitcher topped off is to be in God’s Word every day. Read it. Study it. Feast on it. Meditate on its implications for your life. When you consistently allow God’s Word to fill your heart and life, his Holy Spirit goes into over-drive. Your soul is replenished. And there’s going to be spiritual spillage. Whether they like it or not, those in your orbit are going to get wet.
2. To a young person who might stumble upon this blog… don’t wait until you’re “all grown up” to start pouring into the lives of others. Case in point: As some of you know, I’ve recently gone through a bit of a valley in my life related to some difficult family matters. In the midst of it all, I celebrated my 55th birthday. Among many thoughtful cards and gifts and comments, I received a hand-made birthday card in the mail from Megan, a 2nd grader who I occasionally have the privilege to teach. It absolutely made my day! I mean, how many 2nd graders do you know who send birthday cards to their 55-year-old substitute teacher? (I used to make faces and shoot rubber bands behind the back of my subs!) What kind of a young person goes to the trouble of making a card and locating an address? A child with a heart of gold. A child who Jesus may have had in mind when he said, “unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” A child whose spiritual pitcher is over-flowing…and I just happened to be in her vicinity.
“So many people have poured into my life.”
How about yours?
“I love opportunities to pour into others.”
What will you do with the opportunity God gives you today?
One of the greatest aspects of hiking the Appalachian Trail is also one of the most frustrating. Over the course of about six months and five million steps, you cross paths with hundreds of people. The broke, recently graduated high student considering a career in the military. The short, middle-aged Australian lady with an owl cap who is working on her doctoral dissertation. The young man who, in an effort to lower pack weight, is on a diet of packets of pure Crisco oil. Random people trying to walk off a failed marriage or memories from a nightmarish war. A young man who, unbeknownst to anyone, would take his life after finishing the trail. Young and old people. Happy and troubled people. Skinny, smelly, and hairy people, all bound by a common goal. The AT has it all.
You may share only a passing “hello.” You may spend only a few moments together at a watering hole. If you’re lucky, you may form a “bubble” of hiking comrades and spend a few days or weeks together, bonding along the way. You listen to their life stories and learn of their goals, fears, and battles with golf ball-sized blisters and plantar fasciitis. You get to know people as you traverse mountains together, enjoy magnificent vistas, weather thunderstorms, and huddle together in the bitter cold.
And then it’s over. The vast majority of people you meet along the way—fellow hikers, trail angels, hostel owners—will never be heard from or seen again. That’s the frustrating part. So many people you wish you could live near, hang out with, and get to know better. That rarely happens.
However, there are exceptions. Every once in a while, you get an update from someone who was, at the time, just a random encounter on the AT.
That brings us to Boomerang. On June 25th, 2016, my 106th night on the Appalachian Trail, after hiking 1,220 miles, I made a steep climb out of Port Clinton, PA, and found a suitable tenting spot near a spring. I was joined by a fellow thru-hiker, a millennial blessed with an 11th toe. Naturally, his trail name was “ET” for Extra Toe. I told him I expected him to complete the trail 10% faster than everyone else.
We were joined by a friendly section hiking couple from California—Boomerang and Redwood. During supper, I shared the origins of my trail name, Fob, and the others reciprocated. Boomerang once led a church hiking group called Trailblazers. The group consisted of hikers with varying levels of experience, so a “sweep” was positioned in the back to motivate any lagging hikers who risked falling behind. Still, Boomerang felt responsible for everyone and thus would regularly hike back and forth, from the front to the end and back, to make sure everyone was okay. Her back and forth movement earned her the trail name Boomerang. I love that concept, and it became Fob Fundamental #34 from my second AT book: “Young people need parents, teachers, youth ministers, coaches, and others to serve as ‘sweeps’ and ‘boomerangs,’ helping to keep our youth on the right path and pace.”
The next morning, we said our goodbyes and got back on the trail. I did not expect to see or hear from this California couple again. I was from a different part of the country, on a different hiking pace, with a different goal in mind. Realistically, our encounter, though much appreciated, would be a one-time-only event like so many others.
Thankfully, I was wrong. Like a good boomerang, Michelle Telles, aka Boomerang, swung back into my life recently. She commented on one of my blogs, and then we exchanged emails. I was excited to hear what this woman has been up to and I thought I’d share it with you.
Boomerang volunteers with the California Southern Baptist Disaster Relief Ministries (CSBDRM). This is the third largest disaster relief organization in the country, behind the Red Cross and Salvation Army, with whom they often partner. They also work alongside federal agencies like FEMA, although they do not accept federal funding or reimbursement. In 2019 alone, SBDR clocked 670,000 volunteer hours and made 368,000 meals!
In April of 2019, Boomerang and a friend attended an SBDR training class in clean-up and recovery and earned their yellow DR shirt, along with “an official ugly yellow hat to match.” This past June, after retiring from a long teaching career, she packed her “go bag” and prepared for her first Disaster Relief deployment.
As you’ve probably heard, California has been ravaged by wildfires this year. More than 8,200 fires have consumed over 4 million acres, doubling the previous record. With thousands of evacuees moving into temporary shelters in late August, Boomerang saw her first action. She “marveled at God’s wicked sense of humor” when her first assignment was to work for five days in a church kitchen, a three-hour car ride away from home, preparing meals for local evacuees. She was concerned that God had forgotten that she doesn’t know how to cook and “knew very little about kitchen things.” Besides, she was badged in clean-up and recovery, not kitchen work!
Thankfully, she packed her willing spirit and learned fast. Her experience from that deployment qualified her for the next…also in the kitchen. Sometimes, rather than calling the qualified, God qualifies the called.
Boomerang shared with me that many of her lady friends find satisfaction in craft parties, missionary letter writing, and exchanging recipes. While there’s nothing wrong with that, she finds more enjoyment in sleeping in odd places and getting dirty. Imagine her delight when God used her quirky skills to His glory during her third and fourth deployments. She was tasked with doing recovery among the ashes of homes caught in rampant wildfires. With her air mattress and sleeping bag on the floor of a Sunday School room at a church building, she prepared herself to serve.
Boomerang shares her experience:
“I find it difficult to fully express the feeling of giving a family something as simple as a charred metal rooster and watching the expression of the homeowner’s face light up with joy. My team recovered coins, a plethora of various ceramic turtles and pigs, crystals, swords, pot pipes, fingernail scissors, tools, jewelry, and a host of other items, but my personal favorite was a porcelain plaque that asserted, ‘Home is where the mom is.’ Of all the valuables this woman had, all she wanted was this plaque, and I made it my special mission to find it. Like an archeologist looking for rare artifacts, I dug through rubble and gently swept away ash. Piece by piece, the plaque began to reveal itself. Each time I found a piece, I placed it on a flat surface of a charred barbeque. I made this journey to the barbeque seven times until the plaque was complete. Like the charred rooster, this one simple item brought a small beacon of hope to an otherwise hopeless situation.”
After each “ash out,” the team and the property owners gather together. The owners are presented a Bible, signed by everyone on the team, and a prayer is offered. Words of encouragement are expressed by everyone, and grateful owners typically dispense hugs.
Boomerang adds, “The satisfaction of supporting these fire victims is addicting and I get a real joy (blessing) when I’m included in their process forward. The verse that continually runs through my head (my true motivation) is: ‘And he said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’’” (Matthew 22:37-39)
As we prepare to turn the calendar on a new year, I have a hope and a suggestion for you.
My hope is that you experience a “boomerang” encounter in 2021. I hope a long lost friend, family member, hiking buddy, or someone else re-enters your life and inspires you, the way Boomerang has inspired me. If a boomerang doesn’t find you, maybe you can be the boomerang for someone else.
Let me suggest that, as a lone New Year’s Resolution, or perhaps grouped with others, you find a neighbor to love as yourself. Could be in a disaster zone. Could be at a homeless shelter or nursing home. Could be the coworker in the next cubicle or the classmate who sits behind you. Could be your next door neighbor.
Everyone outside of myself is my neighbor and I need to try to love them the way Jesus loves them. In 2021, I’m going to be a boomerang, a sweep, or a lifeline to someone.
Welcome to the 33rd consecutive edition of the Johnson family newsletter!
We could focus on the dumpster fire that was 2020—the devastating virus, divisive election, riots and looting, wildfires and hurricanes, and to top it all off, murder hornets. Through that lens, it was an awful year. But you already know that.
Instead, we’ll focus on what was good about 2020 in our little corner of the world…
After a half-century of moves (23 in all), 4+ years of RV-living, and a year of apartment-living, we bought a home in Maryville, Tennessee. God provided the ideal home for us, with a mountain view, a layout suitable for Janet’s parents, convenience to everything, and a basement suite for you to stay in when you come to visit. We don’t really know what planting roots in a “forever house” looks like, but for now, this home and location here in East TN suit us fine.
With our usual work as Sojourners curtailed due to the virus, we shifted our focus toward doing more disaster relief this year. Following devastating tornadoes and hurricanes, Steve worked in disaster zones in Cookeville TN, Ooltewah TN, Pineville LA, and Lake Charles LA. We then joined forces for an additional week in Lake Charles, LA, where we were reunited with long-time friends, Chuck and Jana Leasure. (For more info on, or to donate to, the organization we work with, click on this link: https://www.churchesofchristdrt.org )
Janet continued crocheting and created, among other things, scarves, ear-warmers, toys, and hats for newborns at East TN Children’s Hospital. Steve calls her his “crochety” Lil Jan. She and her mom also fired up the old Singer and produced protective masks for healthcare workers.
Janet continued writing and riding. She wrote articles for our church’s quarterly ladies newsletter. And, in November, she checked off a bucket list item by going horseback riding in the picturesque Cades Cove with several of her lady friends, along with her sister, Cathy. She also spent many days at doctor’s appointments or playing chauffeur with her parents.
Steve occasionally preached as a fill-in in the area and completed a 6-month, in-depth study on Christian Evidences with the Teens/College Age from our congregation. To connect with the community, he also subbed 3-4 times each month at Knoxville Christian School. Over the past year, he taught every grade from pre-school through 12th. During a recent stint covering 2nd grade English, he wrote a writing prompt on the white board. One little girl raised her hand and said, “Mr. Johnson, your handwriting is horrible.” Little brat.
When not doing relief work, subbing, or running, you’ll find Steve on our back porch or at a coffee shop writing. In June, he published Spiritual Pursuit, a devotional book based on 15 board games. He’s also on a bucket list mission to hike the Top 20 Hikes in the Smoky Mountains. This year, he checked off Abrams Falls, Mount Le Conte via Alum Cave, and the Rocky Top => Russell Field loop, bringing his total to 4.
In other family news…
• Janet does a weekly yoga class. She feels healthier and thinks the class will change her life. Steve thinks… that’s a stretch. • We helped Steve’s dad and his wife, Gail, move from Tullahoma to Greenbrier, TN in January. His dad remains cancer-free and ornery as ever, and we’re thankful for that. • In February, Steve gave his Appalachian Trail presentation to the Highland Rim Chapter of the Tennessee Ornithological Society, notwithstanding the fact that during his 2016 hike, he didn’t see a single bird.
• We helped our eldest, Jason, & Rachel move into their new home in the woods in Winston-Salem, NC in March. Jason continues dispensing braces, limbs, and love for people in need, and Rach is lead home renovator and a nanny for a baby boy. • Kyle & Laci survived ol ‘Rona and moved into a new home in west St Louis. Kyle completed his Master of Divinity from Abilene Christian University and continues his work as an outreach minister, while Laci continues doing her OT thing. Their dog, Pita, keeps them on their toes. • Our dog, Mandy, is dead.
• Always up for an AT road trip, Steve spoke to and did AT Trail Magic in NC in March with the Kats for Christ, a college ministry from Sam Houston State University in Texas. • In August, Steve helped some church friends move by driving their Ryder moving truck 2,600 miles to San Francisco. Main take-away: There is only one radio station in the 1200 miles between Little Rock, AR and Flagstaff, AZ, and it plays only country music. • The amazing Gracianos rewarded Steve with a personalized tour of San Fran and Berkeley in the middle of wildfires and a pandemic. He also enjoyed a combined 5 hours over 3 nights in a hot tub with his buddy, “Night Fever” Flavio, discussing Mexican culture, listening to disco music, and learning how to properly fold a burrito. • In August, Shirley, Janet’s mom, walked in on Steve in the bathroom while he was, shall we say, seated. They haven’t made eye contact since. • Not to be outdone, in October, Jan dropped a crab Rangoon at the local Chinese Buffet and tried unsuccessfully to hand it to a nearby Asian woman who didn’t work there. (This is why we’ve moved 23 times.)
We appreciate the many friends and family who have visited and/or stayed with us since our arrival in Maryville. We always look forward to visitors, whether you come to hang out with us or just need a free staging area from which to explore all that East Tennessee has to offer.
Speaking of visitors, we look forward to ending 2020 on a high note when our four kiddos come to visit for several days at Christmas!
At all times, but certainly during these difficult times, it’s helpful to remember Paul’s words from Philippians 4:6: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”
Let’s pray for an end to this virus and a happy and blessed 2021!
I don’t know how long you’ve been teaching your students about God’s Word. Maybe weeks. Maybe months. Maybe decades.
I don’t know how many people—young, old, or somewhere in between—have sat at your feet and listened to you explain stories from the Bible, as best you can. Maybe a few. Maybe a few hundred. Maybe more.
I don’t know how long it takes you to prep each week. Maybe 15 minutes. Maybe several hours. Maybe additional time assembling crafts, making copies, or studying commentaries. Time you could have spent on other pursuits.
I don’t know how many adult Bible classes you’ve missed because you counted it worthy to be a teacher—a giver—rather than solely a receiver. Maybe a few. Maybe a lifetime’s worth.
I don’t know how the Coronavirus has affected your teaching ministry. Maybe you’re still teaching in person. Maybe you’re Zooming lessons remotely. Maybe the class you teach has been postponed for a season.
I don’t know how often you’ve gotten positive feedback from your students, their parents, or your church leadership. Maybe weekly. Maybe occasionally. Maybe never.
Here’s what I do know…
What you do matters. What you do makes a difference. What you do affects eternity.
Two quick stories…
Among the many fine, dedicated Bible class teachers who have taught and encouraged me through the years, Miss Edith Focht stands out. From 1974-1979, ages 8-13, I sat at the feet of Miss Edith and learned God’s Word. I’m pretty sure we hit every story in the Bible.
Our classroom was in a dark, dank, cinder block room in the basement of the Dover Church of Christ in Delaware—the first room on the right once you descend the steps. Our congregation was small, and I was often the only student in class on Sunday mornings. Regardless, Miss Edith made me feel special, like I belonged. Armed with a felt board and a big heart, she brought Bible stories to life in a powerful, compelling way. I climbed those basement steps after class each week with a little better understanding of how much God loves me.
During heavy rains, the church basement flooded, but that didn’t stop Miss Edith. We would sit around the little table with our Bibles open and our shoes resting in water. Miss Edith would present the lesson from God’s Word with the sound of sump pumps and deacons with mops in the background. If the lesson was on Noah or the parting of the Red Sea, our wet predicament would serve as a prop. Regardless of the conditions, Miss Edith was going to teach, and teach she did—with passion, energy, and most of all love. Week after week, month after month, for six years, Miss Edith changed my life.
As I sit here, in 2020, writing a book about the Bible, my mind keeps going back to Miss Edith. With the help of the internet, I learned this week that Edith M. Focht died peacefully at her Delaware home, at the age of 80, on February 10, 2010. Her obituary reads, “She was a long time member of the Dover Church of Christ and enjoyed volunteering her time with the related church activities.” Based on my experience with her and the impact she had on my life, that one sentence recap of her ministry seems so inadequate. Thus, this blog.
Edith mattered. Edith made a difference. Edith affected eternity.
I’m not sure, as an 8-13 year-old boy, it ever occurred to me to thank Miss Edith. Maybe I did. I’m not even sure, at the time, I fully understood how she was building a spiritual foundation for me. But she was. I get it now. I plan to give her a high five and a hug when my journey is over and we meet again. In the meantime, I’m thanking you, the soldiers of Christ who follow in her footsteps. You matter too! Your impact can be just as great on the Bible class student, young or old, sitting at your feet!
Second story…
A few years ago, while visiting the Lafayette Church of Christ in Ballwin, MO (where my youngest son, Kyle, ministers at), I sat in Bob Clark’s Bible class. Bob, the preaching minister for this congregation, told the class about a large bone which sits on his desk. He used the bone as an illustration for how to study Scripture. In short, (1) Dogs are passionate about bones; (2) Dogs chew on bones; (3) Dogs sometimes bury a bone but dig it up later to chew some more; and (4) A bone kept in a package and stored in a cabinet doesn’t do the dog any good.
His illustration was simple, but highly effective. He spent a few moments on it and then went on to something else, like a good Bible class teacher will do.
And now, as Paul Harvey would say, the rest of the story…
I took notes in Bob’s class that day. If a teacher or preacher uses an effective illustration, there’s a good chance I’m going to record it in my Bible.
A couple of years later, I extracted his metaphor from the margin of my Bible and included it in Faith in the Margins, my 365-day devotional book. You’ll find it on January 8th.
A year later, in 2019, Ms. Donna Kesler of Cleveland, NC, purchased Faith in the Margins and began reading the devotionals. Later, she purchased the book for her niece, Lee Jan and also for Lee Jan’s friend, Mary Kossel, of Lexington, NC. Lee Jan and Mary share a phone devotional and prayer time together every Saturday morning.
Mary worships and works with the Lexington, NC congregation. While reading Faith in the Margins, she came across Bob’s bone metaphor and was inspired by it. So inspired, in fact, that she created a bulletin board for her church that reads, “Study My Bible Like a Dog with a Bone.” A bulletin board that children and others walk by, read, and are likely inspired by.
All because a guy named Bob was led by the Spirit to teach a Bible class. Yes, his simple illustration about a dog and a bone traveled 768 miles, from Bob => Steve => Donna => Lee Jan => Mary, and ended up on a bulletin board in NC for myriad students to learn from, because that’s how God works. When Christians sow bountifully, we can expect to reap bountifully (see 2 Corinthians 9:6). When you teach passionately, expect God to bring about great results, even though you may never know about them this side of eternity.
So, to the Bible Class teachers out there, thank you. THANK YOU! You matter. You make a difference. You affect eternity. How far God will extend the seeds that you sow, and what messengers he’ll use along the way, is up to God. Let’s also trust him with the results–to bring forth the increase (see 1 Corinthians 3:7). Your job—our job—is simply to teach. To scatter seed. Even in dark, dank, flooded basement classrooms. Even with only one student.