Mercy

"We should not fear death. Rather, we should fear not living."

Nature is both a phenomena consistently happening around us, as well as condition occurring from within. It is just as much a delicately wilting petal as it is a behemoth. Humans like to think they are at the top of the food chain, but nature, the all encompassing earthly phenomena, is in its own different league of superiority. Whatever concrete walls man can erect, vines can constrict and enshroud, and earthquakes can crumble and destroy.

Often, nature gives us a few warning signs of what is to come. But the pride and ego of man has just as often made us callused to these clues.

Today, I will share a story of time I ignored the warning signs, and as a result, came within a football field's distance away from death.

In Salt Lake City, there is a popular hiking trail nicknamed, The Living Room. At the end of the hike, there is an outlook of the entire Salt Lake Valley, furnished with "couches" and "sofas" created by the red rock slabs of the mountains. In the summer of 2015, I attempted this hike with a good pal of mine, Mikey.

The air was humid. The sky was sunny to the east and cloudy to the west. You could almost draw a line between the two skies, like the gutter of a book dividing two pages. Because we were westerners, we superficially assumed this book would read left to right, that the progress of the world followed east to west. We were mistaken.

At the trailhead, the clouds had completely enveloped the sky above us, and we felt uneasy. But today was our only day off from work, so we persisted to make this hike a success. At about the two-thirds mark up the trail, we paused to view the calming silence. Between us and the trailhead an open bowl was carved into the mountain-side. We could see for miles and miles.

And suddenly, lightning stroke. The sound was like a gun shot. Our ears rang. There was no time to count seconds between the lightning and thunder because it had happened in the bowl, less than 500 yards away from us. We yelled the first obscenity that came to surface, and quickly retreated towards shelter. And almost as quickly as the thunder came, the rain began to pour.

In my frantic state, I thought to myself, "This is it. This is how I'm going to die. I'm in an open field, drenched. I'm the perfect target for the next lightning strike."

We found some boulders that would cover our heads for the time being. Our main goal was to shield ourselves from being nodes in an electrical current. We trembled side-by-side like two pathetic animals. And as we embraced each other, thinking if the rain would subside anytime soon, we watched the head of a tiny stream make its way down the hiking trail.

That was the final sign to get out. Nature had made its statement. It said that we were not welcome with the rain, and it showed us the way out with the serpent-like river running between our feet. Mikey and I sprinted to get back to the car, taking cover at every tree branch possible on the way down.

By the grace of God and the mercy of nature, we were able to make it back home safe. I look back at this memory and realize that at this day, my life, quite literally, flashed before my eyes. I was at the brink of death and I have never been more grateful to be alive.