When I saw the sign, I was ready to turn back.

Grizzly bear? There’s a grizzly bear in the area? Maybe I could just look at photos of Avalanche Lake and skip this four-mile hike in Glacier National Park.

Armed with pepper gel spray, we decided to go forward.

“Noise! Noise! Noise!” we shouted as we walked, to warn wild animals to head the other way. We soon discovered we were not as intimidating as we thought.

The smooth wooden walkway transitioned to gravel, giving way to gnarled roots and dirt. The easy part was behind us. Rounding the first corner, we were surprised by the breathtaking white water cascading down through a narrow crevice. After we paused for photos and awes, we continued down the pathway that ushered us into another world.

A rushing stream on our left sparkled in the sunlight, jumping over a million colored stones and big boulders. Trees and vegetation on the steep hill to the right leaned like an umbrella over our heads. Tall pine trees stretched their fingers toward the sun and rustled in the breeze. Silvery dollar-sized leaves came alive with the wind, waving us toward the finish line.

We continued walking hand in hand, shouting “Noise, noise, noise,” when we weren’t talking. When the path narrowed, we walked single file with Peter mostly in the lead.

Suddenly at a bend in the path, a large animal with impressive moss-covered antlers appeared, ambling straight toward us.

“Noise noise noise! ARRRHH!” we shouted.

But there was no fear or hesitation as he continued down our path toward what would be a head-on collision if one of us didn’t move.

We moved.

Fast.

There was nowhere to go except backward since the steep mountain was on the right and the fast-flowing stream was on the left. We picked up heavy sticks and shouted more, but he wasn’t fazed by either. After what seemed like forever, he suddenly pranced up the steep slope, as if bored with this game and satisfied he won.

As one hour turned into two hours, I wondered why we weren’t there yet. We sang songs, made jokes, prayed for friends and family…always making noise to keep away the formidable grizzly.

We inched deeper into the woods, with only each other and an occasional passerby.

“How much farther?” I asked one returning hiker.

“Forty more minutes!” he replied.

My heart sank. Forty minutes! That was not what I wanted to hear. We were supposed to be there by now.

Most of the hike, my impatience to get to our destination and my fear of wild animals kept me from appreciating the beauty around us. The hurry of life had followed me into the wilderness.

Groups of young people whizzed past us. Couples carrying children on their backs also managed to surpass us. But we all reached the same destination. Finally.

Arriving at Avalanche Lake was wonderful. Crystal-clear aqua waters gently lapped over multicolored stones. Three or four waterfalls trickled down ragged snow-covered mountains behind it. It reminded me of Rivendell in Lord of the Rings.

 But I must admit I thought to myself, We trudged two and a half hours for this? After enduring the wind for 15 minutes to rest and snap a few pictures, it was time to start the two and a half hours back again.

Great.

But the return went much faster and was more enjoyable. Without my attention being riveted on “getting there” and what time it was, it was more of a step-by-step experience enjoying the wonder of God’s creation. As we spotted the parking lot ahead, we shared a sense of accomplishment in something we would not have attempted alone.

What is the highlight, as I look back at memories of that day? It is not our time at the lake, pretty as it was. It is the journey we took to get there: the excitement of stepping out of my comfort zone, the stillness, the good and bad surprises that awaited us as we moved forward. The wide spectrum of experiences shared with someone I love offered far more meaning than our brief interlude at the lake.

Afterwards, I thought about the grizzly truths about life revealed in that day’s activities.   

Focusing on where we want to be robs us of delighting in where we are. And most things seem to take longer than we expect. But there’s joy in the journey! Counting the years— or the minutes— until we “arrive” will not only make it seem even longer, but we will also miss the blessings God has planted along our path. Every. Minute. Has. A. Purpose.

God invites to slow down, as evidenced in His creation. There’s a reason there are no clocks in the forest. He offers wonderful surprises, like waterfalls and sparkling streams. Stop and enjoy them! Expect to find things to marvel over, sent to you from our loving Heavenly Father.

Don’t let fear of the what-ifs keep you from moving forward or seeing His sweet surprises. Most dangers we worry about never happen. Like meeting grizzly bears. We should be realistic about risks and prepare if we can. But the “grizzly bears of life” we usually lose sleep over seldom show up.

However, some dangers do happen that never even occurred to us to worry about. Like our unfriendly elk. They happen without warning, and we are not prepared. They may send us back a few steps in our journey, but the Lord will walk alongside us and guide us despite our being ill-equipped.

We need to approach life at our own pace. Don’t try to keep up with everyone else, or you will end up exhausted. And don’t expect others to keep up with you, or you will win the race but have no one alongside you to share your success with. Walking hand in hand makes the time more meaningful because you have shared an experience with someone you love.

Many of the highlights of life are found just outside our comfort zones. Where does the Lord want to stretch you today?

“Every path of the LORD is [one of] mercy and truth for those who cling to his promise and written instructions.”

Psalm 25:10