There is a photograph that is permanently etched into the fabric of my mind and has become a core memory. Some years ago a local law enforcement officer was on vacation in Colorado. While he was enjoying his time there he happened upon a lady who had slipped down a mountainside and he had to rescue her. The photograph depicts the exact moment where he heave-hoed this lady to safety. How amazing is God’s timing that he placed help in her pathway to save her from destruction? It was a beautiful heroic moment that was written about numerous times.
But in my mind this photograph caused my plus-sized self quite a bit of undue anxiety. Every time the image crossed my social media feed all I could think about was the fact I may have had to enlist two innocent by-standers to help me up a mountainside should I have ever found myself in danger. This very photograph was the first thought on many of my diet days.
Soon the fear subsided and it rarely crossed my mind.
That was until this past fall on an excursion through Wyoming with my oldest daughter. We were taking a slow ride through the Hoback River area and there were so many places to pull over and take photos and walk trails along the river. Against my daughter’s wishes I made her pullover so I could enjoy the narrow, clear as glass river that flowed over small boulders. It was absolutely breathtaking. The green trees were giving way to the multicolored leaves of fall. It was a picture-taker’s haven.
Once we pulled over we really didn’t see a trail that lead down the steep embankment. We stood in silence as we visually scoured the area for an entry point. Once we spotted a tiny trail we made our way over to start our descent down to the river. With my daughter leading the way I noticed she did not look concerned so I tried not to look concerned either. My very first step down, my feet started to instantly slide directly down on rocks that were not permanently attached to the ground. I was able to stabilize my steps and just stand still for a moment.
It was a little comical so we both laughed at the same time. Every time I laughed I slid down a little further. I made the executive decision not to move. Or laugh. Or breathe. I merely just stood. No one ever accused me of being “outdoor savvy” or “hiking savvy”…so I started to walk backwards. Backing my way up the embankment one step at a time. After a few steps my body decided it did not agree with the gravitational pull and the loose rocks so I fell down…behind first and slid about ten feet further down the embankment.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion and I honestly thought I was going to slide right into the beautiful Hoback River that was rapidly flowing. As my life was flashing before my eyes, my daughter had collapsed into a puddle of sidesplitting laughter. Actually the puddle was caused by her laughter. (That was the most polite way I could describe what made a puddle.) Lucky for me a large rock stopped my landslide but every time I would try to get up I would slide further down. Aside from worrying about how I would save myself I knew that I had damaged my good leggings, my backside hurt, and my hands hand large imprints from sliding on the rocks.
This is the very moment that the core memory photograph crossed my mind. If you are not familiar with the Hoback area you should know that there is zero cell signal. There would be no way to call for help, my daughter was having to change clothes and was still laughing up a storm… I briefly thought…. this is it…. I am about to meet my maker…I am laid out flat on my back staring at the clear blue sky…just waiting for a family of coyotes to drag my plump body into the woods for an evening meal. During the mini meltdown I looked over to my right and noticed some very tall grass, I rolled over onto my stomach and double wrapped my arms around the grass and began to pull myself up. Jesus wasn’t ready for me just yet. I kept thinking my daughter would come back to assist me but she was too busy cleaning up the mess she made. I was able to inch my way up the hillside by wrapping my arms around tall grass until I reached the top.
On my way back up the hill I kept thanking God for his provisions. Although he did not send me a handsome rescuer, a heliconter or even a daughter who could keep her composure, he did provide a way of escape. The works of his hands may not always look like we think they should, but his ways are always higher than ours. I was very grateful that he didn’t call me home that day because I certainly had a bone to pick with my daughter.
This day will definitely be added to our core memories. The day mom fell down a mountain and my daughter collapsed in her puddle of laughter.
“The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer, my God, my rock where I seek refuge, my shield and my horn of salvation, my stronghold. I called to the Lord, who is worthy of praise, and I was saved from my enemies.”
Psalm 18:2-3
