What I knew is that I had a story. And, really, the chase of a story—along with some solitude for contemplation—was why I had traveled as far and as hard as I had. I smirked in acceptance. It was an altered mission accomplished.
I’m flying, floating, then riding a bus to what’s rated as one of the most grueling hikes in North America—a rugged wilderness described by trail alumni on YouTube as a place where nobody escapes a battered body. In fact, the Canadian Coast Guard and Parks Canada medevacs or otherwise rescues up to nine people a week from this stretch of ground—when only 52 people per day are allowed to enter the trail.
When I tell people where I’m going, I get two general responses. The first: “That sounds awesome!” and more often: “Not me. Why would you do that?” For the crowd who fall in that second camp, let me walk you through the reasoning.
The Adjustment Bureau reminded me of a truth that I’ve found throughout my spiritual walk: the omniscient Chairman (of my worldview) had better plans for me than I had for myself.
Jesus left heaven to come to where we are. He didn’t rain post-dated business cards on us. He didn’t ask us to weed through insider jargon to understand he wants us more than he wants justice for our sin. The choice he offers is essentially an ultimatum, but he wants *so much* for us to reciprocate his movement toward us.