Some People Have Skeletons in Their Closet; Mine’s Packed With Gear

Adventure-wise, I’ve done a lot of weird stuff in my life. I have logbooks, journals, and other things that helped chronicle adventures now long gone. I’ve invested thousands of dollars into equipment most people don’t normally get a chance to use. Here’s a partial list of gear I’ve either owned in the past or still own today:

Cross-country skis, poles, and boots

Skydiving container, parachute, reserve parachute, jumpsuit, wrist altimeter, goggles

Semi-dry suit, wetsuit, buoyancy control device, dive computer, regulators, extra weights, booties, fins, gloves, mask, snorkel, various accessories

Multiple climbing harnesses, four different climbing ropes, 15+ carabiners, rigging plate, pulleys, 100+ feet of webbing, figure 8s, ATCs, ascenders, block & tackle, assorted cordage

Paintball gun, paintball mask, CO2 cylinders, thousands of paintball rounds

Cold-weather gear, rain gear, boots

GPS receiver, two-way radios, headlamps, lanterns, flashlights, spotlight, flares, glow sticks, binoculars, glacier glasses, gear bags, backpacks, various knives, fire-starting metal match, 550 cord, tarps

(I don’t think I’ve ever put together a list like this, and looking at it now, I have to express how fortunate I am to not be maimed, seriously injured, or dead as a result of eccentric hobbies. I have no idea how many waivers I’ve signed in my life. Lord, thank you and please pass along my thanks to my guardian angel(s) for me! But that’s not the point I set out to make.)

It’s fun to still have a lot of these relics from long ago. Many of these items are intended for very specific uses, while others can be used in a variety of situations. When I look at some of this gear now, it’s beat up or well worn due to heavy use. Other pieces are almost brand new, even years later, because they either haven’t been used or I only used them lightly. Some of my most well-worn gear includes my cross-country skis and the climbing harnesses and ropes (considering the condition of the climbing gear, those guardian angels deserve another shout-out!). Other stuff that was pretty much a waste of money includes the semi-dry suit (I used it one weekend and still have it, almost 20 years later) and the wetsuit (I’ve had it the same amount of time, but never even got it wet).

At one time or another I owned all of that gear, so it was up to me how often and in what fashion I used it. Users know every piece of gear must one day be pulled from service because it doesn’t last forever. I sometimes had to make the conscious decision to say “you’re starting to wear out, I’m going to sideline you on this smaller adventure so I can save your remaining utility for something bigger,” or “no, I’m not going to bring you along with me this time because based on what I intend to do, I won’t need you this time.”

If, at any point, any of that gear had said to me “I don’t think I’m up for this,” or started repeatedly protesting the manner in which I intended to use it, I likely would have altered my plans for using it. I probably would have started viewing it as unreliable or not worth the hassle. If you look back at the list of gear I wrote down, most of it is used for activities where you can’t accept the use of questionable equipment. If I have unreliable gear but still have my mind set on taking part in the activity, what am I to do? I can either replace it with a piece of more reliable gear, or figure out another way to do what I’m trying to do using the rest of the stuff I have on hand.

Some of the more worn pieces of equipment I have are the ones that have been most reliable, and I have specific memories of how they’ve come through for me when I asked a lot from them. When you consider that we, as Christians, are tools wielded by the Lord to be used for His purposes (purposes we don’t understand or get a say in), it should be our goal to be up for the challenge whenever the Master opens the doors to his gear racks and looks through what He’s got to work with. If that’s the attitude we maintain, by the end of our lives, we’re going to have a very well-worn quality due to heavy use. That’s a good thing.

Make it your goal to, by the end of your life, lose the shine that accompanies lack of use. We shouldn’t be hung up in the closet, still bright and colorful; we should have frayed seams, some chips and dings, and be a little faded. For those of you who have lived your life serving the Lord, or who have temporarily parted ways with loved ones after their years of faithful service to Him, take comfort in the fact that He has fond and specific memories of the ways you and yours have come through for Him.

One day that shine and color will be renewed, even brighter than the original.

No Holding Back

The November after I graduated college, I took an adventure trip to Australia. One of the parts of the trip I was most excited about was the trip out to the Great Barrier Reef. I had never been scuba diving before, and the Great Barrier Reef was like, legendary from everything I’d heard. During this portion of the trip we all got on a boat that took us miles from shore, and we stayed out there for two overnights.

The crew operating the dive tour took us to several different locations known to be good diving spots. Once they securely anchored the boat at a given dive site, we waited for a designated time window before we could go in the water. Safety observers needed to be in position, and we needed to receive a dive brief where we learned about the features of the area, where to avoid, can’t-miss sites, and what depth limits we should not break. During this leg of my Australian trip, I had the opportunity to do about a dozen trips into the water, either snorkeling or scuba diving.

For those of us that were not scuba certified on this trip, we could pay a bit extra on some of the outings and a staff member would teach us enough to get by, and would be our dive buddy and personal guide during that particular dive. I wasn’t going to come all the way to Australia and NOT go scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef. Since it wasn’t cheap though, I got a good mix of scuba dives and regular snorkeling.

The reef was an amazing thing to see, especially the amount and variety of life that lived there. The reef itself sounded like it was fizzing and popping. When snorkeling, I would hold my breath and dive down to get a closer look at some of the gorgeous sites. While snorkeling, there was so much to see, even if you only dove down a few feet. I started diving down more than a few feet, though. Equipped with flippers, I was able to swim deep a little easier than normal. The more you do it, the more your body gets used to it. A few times I dove down deep enough to be on the same level as some of the divers.

On our last day at sea, our last dive was coming up, and I was going to spend this dive snorkeling. We all got into the water and started going our separate ways. I was kind of swimming around aimlessly when I noticed a very large concrete block down on the sea floor. It was one of the weights our boat anchored to. It was pretty far down there. I decided I was going to try to get all the way down to it.

The first time I tried, I started swimming straight down just to see how far I could comfortably go. I wore a wetsuit that provided some buoyancy, and lungs full of air also helped keep me afloat. The deeper I went though, the more the water pressure compressed everything, so the buoyancy of my lungs and suit had less effect. I gave it a half-hearted shot, but got nowhere near my goal before I turned around and swam back to the surface.

I recovered on the surface for awhile, but wanted to try again. I took a few quick, deep breaths, and then surged straight down again. I kicked hard, driving deeper. I got much closer to the block on the floor, but started getting concerned about not having enough air to make it back, so again I turned around early and headed up. Coming up from the depths has the opposite effect of going deep; your buoyancy increases as you get closer to the surface. As I got shallower, I could feel myself rising through the water more quickly, even if I slowed my kicking.

I spent some more time resting and letting my breathing return to normal before making another shot without holding anything back. I did the quick breathing thing again and dove hard with the most air I could possibly fit into my lungs. Again, I swam hard straight down, pushing back more firmly against the nerves and survival instinct the deeper I went. The block on the ocean floor became larger and larger, and as I drew nearer I became more determined to reach it. It was almost within my reach!

Finally, after a swim straight down and what seemed like forever, I reached the block on the ocean floor. With a major sense of accomplishment, I flipped over and placed my feet on the block. I took a moment to look down at my feet on the concrete, then to look around at this place I had fought so hard to get to.

Then I looked up. If we could go back and see what I looked like, we’d probably see the color drain from my face. On a free dive, being the deepest you’ve ever been also means that you are physically the furthest away from oxygen that you’ve ever been. Never, either before or since, have I seen such a large aquatic distance that I had to cover so quickly. I became so focused on reaching my goal that I lost sight of the fact that the trip to the block was only half of the swim.

I shot off the block and began kicking furiously. I wasn’t far off the block before my lungs started burning. I kicked as hard as I could, and tried a few strokes with my arms, but that almost felt like it slowed me down. Have you ever held your breath so long that your diaphragm starts going into convulsions? It’s your body’s natural reflex, as though it’s trying to force you to take a breath. More than halfway up, my diaphragm started convulsing. It’s one thing if you’re sitting on the couch seeing how long you can hold your breath, but it’s different when the muscle controlling your lungs starts having spasms underwater, and I got worried that I wasn’t going to make the surface without inhaling a lungful of seawater.

As I tried to keep my body from betraying me, I noticed that I was rushing through the water. The air in my lungs and wetsuit had expanded enough that it was again making me buoyant, and my buoyancy was increasing as I moved toward the surface. The water at this point was rushing past my face, and I could feel its flow anywhere my skin was exposed to the water. Compared to being at depth, my lungs were now so full they felt like they were about to explode, yet the air within them was all but used up.

I needed air so badly that I didn’t even want to waste time exhaling after breaking the surface. With nothing left to spare, I blew out halfway just before breaking the surface and took the most grateful gasp of fresh air I’ve ever taken in my life. Looking back at my notes from the trip, I estimated at the time that the concrete block on the ocean floor was about 10-12 meters, or about 35 feet, below the surface.

My muscles were spent from the furious swim and the lack of oxygen, and I floated there panting as my wetsuit kept me from sinking. After resting awhile, I was able to swim back to the boat and make it safely aboard.

Have you ever thought about how, when you feel you’re doing everything you possibly can, and it’s still not enough, the Holy Spirit can cover the gap? The way the wetsuit worked is sort of the same way the Holy Spirit does; it’s there, wrapped around you and pushing you toward where you need to go. I’ve met amazing people that have endured unbelievable hardships that have drained them of any strength they held in reserve. When you ask them how they got through it, their answer usually has something to do God’s grace. It might be “peace that passes understanding.” Hearing their story and knowing that they withstood things that would make the average person buckle or tap out reminds me that the Holy Spirit empowers Christ-followers with the things they need for the task at hand, even if that task is nothing more ordinary than to make it through the day.

This isn’t just for people with extraordinary stories, like Samson or King David; it’s for you and I, too. When we’re in the midst of excruciating trials or facing an insurmountable obstacle, God gives us what we need to “make it back to the surface.” Then, when it’s all over and we’re completely spent, He’s there keeping us afloat while we catch our breath, sustaining us long enough for us to make it back to safety.

“Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. Now He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God.” Romans 8:26-27

“And when they had prayed, the place where they were assembled together was shaken; and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit, and they spoke the word of God with boldness.”Acts 4:31

Do You Honestly Think That’s a Good Idea?

Even the dogs in Australia are mellow.

When Americans think of Australia, one of the things they think about is the wildlife. Some of the things that might come to mind are kangaroos, crocodiles, koala bears, etc. The tour company I traveled with recognized that, so one of the things they built into the itinerary of our Australian trip was a stop at a zoo that had a lot of these animals.

I’ve been to some zoos here in the states. Things are usually set up so that you can’t get too close, but you usually have an unobstructed view of whatever animal is present. Not this place. It was kind of a cross between a petting zoo and a crocodile kennel. You could hand-feed the kangaroos (maybe they were wallabies), handle snakes, and get close to the emu.

I think the main attraction was probably the crocodiles. The owner was a colorful character. Think of him as an older version of Crocodile Dundee that put on a bit of weight and wasn’t quite so light on his feet anymore. He was fun to be around and took us on a tour of the sights.

I’d guess that this guy had anywhere from six to 12 crocodiles in various chain-link pens throughout the zoo. He brought us around to the various pens, sometimes teaching us about crocs from outside the pen, other times going inside and feeding the crocs a chicken or two.

I was a little surprised by this guy’s willingness to go right into the various pens, and even more surprised at how close he was willing to get to the various animals. He would be within a few feet of the gaping jaws of these enormous monsters, and he’d toss meat into their mouths. He was actually missing a few fingers because he had gotten too close in the past and eager crocs had snapped down quicker than expected.

He seemed so laid back about being in such close proximity to reptiles that could kill him. The only thing he kept nearby was a rake. He used it to scratch the back of some of the crocs to help them relax, but he kept it with him for another purpose. When a croc is getting a little too aggressive and you need to move him back, you can flip the rake around and push on a sensitive spot on their head, and it will back up. We got to see this first-hand when one of the crocs started coming out of its pen. Farmer Dundee here flipped the rake around and pushed the croc back far enough to close the door.

One of the things that struck me the most about this guy was how confident he was in knowing when it was safe and when it was not safe to approach one of the beasts. Again, he was so casual about being in extreme close proximity to crocs that I didn’t know what to think. He actually sat on one of them when he was tired and wanted to take a break.

This guy’s behavior is an example of how we can become so comfortable around danger that we let our guard down and get careless. By the time I met him, this guy had been around crocs for years, but for all I know, he could have been attacked and killed by one of them the next week. You can go for years flirting with danger or something you shouldn’t be around and everything turns out fine; until it doesn’t. You won’t always see it coming, either. That’s why it’s best to simply avoid such situations if at all possible. A few examples might help. If you’re a recovering alcoholic, don’t go meet friends at a bar. Avoid situations where you’re alone with that attractive co-worker. Each of us is more susceptible to certain mistakes than others, but we’re better than we might think when it comes to predicting where things can go south. Let’s assume you’ve got a good head on your shoulders; just because you’re not looking at a guy sitting on a crocodile doesn’t mean you can’t recognize a situation that’s a bad idea.

I don’t blame my crocodile farmer friend for doing what he does, but he has to constantly be on high alert for trouble. Even though he’s had a lot of successful crocodile feedings, he’s still missing some fingers. The lesson here: if you’re perfectly aware of the danger but you intentionally stay near it anyway, don’t expect to come out of it unscathed.

Are there any unnecessary risks in your life you need to stop accepting?

The Land Down Under

Upon graduation from college and unsure of a career path to pursue, I moved back in with Mom and Dad. I worked construction during that time, and since I had low overhead, I was able to make tons of progress paying off my college loans. Free of any major responsibilities and feeling adventurous at this point, I decided to start making headway on my lofty goal of visiting every continent.

My folks had taken me to Europe previously, so I could cross that one off the list. I knew that at some point in the future I was more likely to have additional responsibilities (and might have to pay for additional tickets if I were to go traveling), so I determined it would be good to look at the continents that were the most difficult to get to. I really wanted to visit Antarctica, but I figured it would probably be best to get some general travel experience before venturing anywhere near the South Pole. Deciding that it would be nice to go to an English-speaking country, I settled on Australia.

I found an adventure company that did tours all over the world, and they had a few Australian trips coming up. On the agenda for this particular trip was whitewater rafting, hiking and mountain biking in a rainforest, a few days on the Great Barrier Reef, and ocean kayaking out to, then spending a few nights camping on, an island off the Australian coast. I got signed up for a November trip.

While trees are losing leaves and the weather’s getting chilly in North America in November, it’s springtime in the southern hemisphere. Add to that the fact that the area where most of this trip took place was closer to the equator than Jamaica is, and it looked like I was going to have a tan at Thanksgiving.

That figure is for a direct flight; it doesn’t count connecting flights!

The trip ended up being a lot of fun, and I had some neat experiences. I’ll cover a few of them in the next couple of posts, but for now it’s important to remember that even if you ride in a plane to the other side of the world almost 10,000 miles away, God’s still the same God He was before you left.

Whether you’re having a “Jonah” moment and are trying to run away, or are homesick, afraid, and want to see something familiar, God’s still God no matter where you go.

7Where can I go from Your Spirit?
         Or where can I flee from Your presence?

8If I ascend to heaven, You are there;
         If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there.

9If I take the wings of the dawn,
         If I dwell in the remotest part of the sea,

10Even there Your hand will lead me,
         And Your right hand will lay hold of me.

11If I say, “Surely the darkness will overwhelm me,
         And the light around me will be night,”

12Even the darkness is not dark to You,
         And the night is as bright as the day.
         Darkness and light are alike to You.

Psalm 139:7-12