Trust Walk

We stepped out into the cool dark night, silently awaiting our next instruction. Our small group leader gathered us up a circle and explained what would happen next. "You are going to walk to the cabin with your eyes shut and without speaking. Place your hand on the back of the person in front of you. I will lead the way."

We had traveled this same path from the cabin to the chapel dozens of times throughout the weekend and therefore I knew this would be challenging. In our way were potholes, inclines, declines, and turns in the road that were all to be traveled in complete trusting blindness. I never anticipated how difficult this task would be.

I had my hands on the shoulders of the girl in front of me and shimmied my way into the darkness behind her. I kept thinking, "Just peek a little, just to get your bearings." A separate force in mind would scream out," No! Trust in God, trust in your group, there is no need for sight in this moment." To give up humanity's most entrusted sense and walk purely on faith is a struggle I had never known. About halfway into the walk I was touched with the urge to encourage the group for their job well done so far. Being mindful of our call to silence, I did so the only way I knew how. I squeezed gently the shoulders that guided my movements, hopefully signaling my thankfulness for her guidance. Then I took away one of my hands, a move I contemplated for a while as both of my hands were my only link to the world around me and that lifting one would leave me only one to keep guiding me into the darkness. Quickly I brought my hand to the opposite shoulder and softly patted the hand on my shoulder, hopefully sending a message of encouragement.

We made it! My eyes popped open! I whisked around the shoulders of the girl in front of me and gave her a strong hug whispering, "great job!" I turned and high-fived everyone else in the group for their great effort. We huddled together for warmth and our next instruction. But I had to ask, "Who peeked?"