Papa Raymond, my 88-year-old father-in-law, will have his second hip replacement surgery of 2021 tomorrow afternoon, on Veterans Day. Later this year, he’ll have eye surgery. You see what he’s up to, right? His plan looks obvious to me. Over the course of the next few years, he’s going to methodically replace all his body parts. He’s going to begin his ninth decade of life with the body of a 20-year-old. His 90th birthday cake will read, “Happy Birthday, Benjamin Button Climer!”
Preparation for tomorrow’s surgery begins at midnight tonight when Papa begins to fast. Wanting his next-to-last meal prior to surgery to be a good one, I made him my specialty: grilled hot dog with cheese and onions, along with a side of mac & cheese. As my cooking skills go, this is high-end. Whenever Big Steve lights the grill or pulls out a saucepan, something special is going down.
Toward the end of lunch, Papa did something he never does… ask for seconds. This is a man who eats like a dieting canary and weighs 138 pounds soaking wet. He never asks for seconds. For that matter, he rarely finishes firsts. So, when he asked to finish off the mac & cheese, we were all stunned.
“Tomorrow’s a big day, a lot going on,” he smiled and said. “Better get my nourishment today.”
Papa is a wise man. This isn’t his first rodeo, nor his first hip replacement. He knows what’s involved. It will be a challenging day, featuring drugs, needles, IVs, hospital food and, if he’s lucky, cute nurses. It all begins with about 15 hours of fasting. For a guy who likes his morning strawberry strudel with coffee, that’s tough. It’s a challenge. It’s a big day, especially for an 88-year-old.
How does he prepare? He loads up on nourishment today. He knows an extra scoop of mac & cheese today will strengthen him for whatever challenges tomorrow brings. This proactive consumption of calories might also make tomorrow’s inevitable 11 a.m. hunger pains a little more manageable.
On this beautiful fall day in Maryville, Papa’s words are now looping in my brain: “A lot going on tomorrow… better get my nourishment today.”
And then I look out on the back porch and see Papa. Like almost every other day of his life, there’s an open Bible in his lap.
Have you heard the expression, “I like the idea of…”?
I like the idea of writing a book. Translation: I would love to be an author, but I don’t intend to literally go through the difficult process of turning an idea into a book.
I like the idea of hiking the entire Appalachian Trail. Translation: I like the idea of being an Appalachian Trail thru-hiker, but I don’t intend to literally climb up and down mountains for 12-15 miles each day for the next six months.
I like the idea of being healthy and fit. Translation: I know a healthy and fit lifestyle would be good for me, but I don’t intend to consistently eat right and exercise. That’s too much trouble.
What about the Bible? Do you like the idea that God took the time to communicate to us in writing? How about liking the idea of certain Bible passages? Let’s take Hebrews 13:2: “Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.”
That sounds like a neat idea. I like the idea of it.
Just don’t expect me to do it.
I mean, I’m hospitable to my family. We open our doors to loved ones and celebrate family gatherings with feasts and frivolity.
I’m also hospitable to my friends. We have hosted many friends travelling through East Tennessee and have shared many meals with our church friends. Are we hospitable? Absolutely!
But that’s not what Hebrews 13:2 is about, is it? Hospitality to strangers is a whole different ball game. When was the last time you invited a perfect stranger into your home? The very notion sounds risky, even unsafe. That may have worked in Bible times, but today, not so much.
At a restaurant, when was the last time you invited a stranger, sitting alone, to join you and your family? Seems a little awkward. I mean, you don’t know the person. What if they’re weird? What if they have a virus? What if they have nothing in common with you? What will you talk about?
Don’t get me wrong—I like the idea of being hospitable to strangers. But in practice, I’m going to take Hebrews 13:2 and line through “to strangers.” Isn’t it enough for me to just be hospitable? Shouldn’t I live prudently, manage risk, and limit my social contact and generosity to known quantities?
But wait, Hebrews 13:2 isn’t finished. The stranger before me might be an angel. Isn’t that special? I like the idea of it.
Of course, it’s not realistic. It’s probably an exaggeration—a divine figure of speech. That stranger sitting across from me at the restaurant, or three pews in front of me, or on the street corner asking for his next meal, couldn’t possibly be a messenger from God. That’s silly. What are the odds?
So, while I like the idea of Hebrews 13:2, I’m going to reword it as follows: “Show hospitality to your friends and family.” Now that’s more like it! Thanks for accommodating that quick edit, God! I’m going to show hospitality to my family and friends like never before! I appreciate you working with me on that. I think we’ll find this approach is more reasonable and less risky.
While I got you here, God, can we discuss Matthew 5:44? I mean, I like the idea of loving my enemies…
It’s taken me a couple of days to process and try to make sense of the situation unfolding in Afghanistan. I hope you’ll give me the space to “think out loud” for a few moments.
I could write about politics and unload on this Administration. Not so much that we’re getting out of Afghanistan, but how we went about it. It’s a travesty on multiple levels, but I try to avoid divisive politics on social media. Few minds are ever changed. Vote your conscience.
I could write about national strategy as it relates to Afghanistan. I’ve studied national strategy and warfighting at one of our nation’s most prestigious schools. Tens of thousands of debates have occurred, and papers have been written, on our interests in Afghanistan. Do we stay and keep fighting for a third decade? Do we get out completely? Do we leave a smaller contingency force behind to gather intelligence and put out fires? How do we balance humanitarian interests and nation-building with the loss of American lives? Queue the endless debates.
I could write about one of the fundamental principles of leadership: owning a mistake, learning from it, and committing to do better. Blaming others doesn’t instill confidence. I wish there was more personal accountability and less political posturing in government. I can’t fix that. I can only own my own mistakes.
Instead, I want to share with you how this hit me personally. My youngest son, sensing all may not be well between my ears, checked on me late last night. I told him it had been a surprisingly difficult day emotionally. I’m dealing with anger, frustration, and sadness. I can only imagine what those who lost friends and loved ones in Afghanistan, or served multiple tours there, are dealing with. I can only imagine the suffering on the ground there—our Allies being rounded up, young girls being plucked from their homes, etc.
Through all those emotions, one question is stuck in my head: Was it worth it?
I volunteered to spend 6 months at Bagram Air Base in 2007—6 months away from my wife and two young sons—because I wanted to do my part. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to help support the Airmen who were directly killing terrorists. I wanted to make a difference in the lives of the Afghanistan people.
Watching the videos of The Taliban in the presidential palace and walking around Bagram Air Base was shocking. Seeing terrified Afghans scrambling and dropping from an airplane broke my heart. It felt like we were back to square one. It felt like the loss of life and billions of dollars spent over the past two decades were a complete waste. It felt like I would have been better off spending those six months being a present, supportive husband and a dad to my sons.
Those feelings make me highly cynical and jaded. I start thinking… “Because it didn’t last, it shouldn’t have been started. Because it didn’t turn out as we had hoped, it was a wasted effort. The poor, long-term returns prove it was a misguided investment.”
But do they?
This isn’t the first thing in my life that hasn’t, over the long haul, turned out as planned.
As a teacher, youth minister, and mentor, I’ve invested countless hours in some young people who “didn’t turn out as planned,” although God’s not through with them yet. Wasted effort?
As a missionary several years ago, I worked tirelessly alongside others to help plant a church in a third-world country, only to see it fold a few years later. Wasted effort?
As a disaster relief worker, I’ve “mucked” and hung dry wall in many flooded homes, only to see those same homes and communities flooded again in subsequent years. Wasted effort?
As an Airman, I deployed to Afghanistan to help good people and stop bad ones. Yesterday, the bad people won (at least until God settles all accounts). Wasted effort?
As a Christian, I’ve prayed for sick people, including my mom, to get well. God had other plans. Wasted effort?
That kind of thinking will leave one jaded and cynical. You stop trying—stop trying to do good in the world—because your efforts may not work or may not last. Given the lack of a guaranteed, long-term return, we don’t invest.
So, rather than debate politics and national strategy this afternoon, I just want to encourage you to keep doing good.
Invest in teaching and mentoring young people—some lives will be changed.
Share your faith, go on mission trips, plant churches—some will take root and last.
Help disaster victims. If the need arises, help them again.
Deploy to trouble spots or support those who do. Show kindness in the moments God has granted you, be that in a war zone, a school cafeteria, or your home.
Keep praying, even when some prayers seem to go unanswered. The Father knows best. And before bashing our leaders with perhaps well-deserved criticism, take a moment to bow and pray for them.
Like many Americans, I’m profoundly disappointed in what is transpiring in Afghanistan, but I’m not going to become jaded and cynical.
The truth is, sometimes I let my family and friends down. Sometimes, many times, God has every right to look down on me as a flawed human—a poor long-term investment.
“To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though not being myself under the law) that I might win those under the law… To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some.” – 1 Corinthians 9:20, 22
While volunteering at Palmetto Bible Camp in South Carolina, my burly friend Joel and I put our spouses in charge of planning our day off. Big mistake. Instead of the obvious options of fishing, going for barbecue, or relaxing in our RVs, Janet and Karen suggested we attend an equestrian competition at the nearby Tryon International Equestrian Center.
“They want to go watch dressage,” Joel lamented, running his thumb and index finger over his white, bushy mustache.
“What’s dressage?” I asked.
“It’s the French word for dull and boring.”
“Oh, quit,” Karen interjected, as she herded us toward the car. “It’s horse reigning. You’ll have fun.”
Aside from our preference to eat pigs rather than watch horses and riders execute a series of predetermined moves, why were Joel and I so reluctant?
We didn’t know anybody. We had no children, grandchildren, spouses, or friends among the competitors. We hadn’t placed any bets. We had no dog, or rather horse, in the fight.
We didn’t understand the jargon, competition elements, time limits, deductions, brackets, arenas, and prizes. None of it made any sense. Just outside the arena, vendors were selling jewelry and windows. That didn’t make any sense either. Joel and I followed the lead of our fellow spectators and applauded but didn’t know what the horse or rider had done to earn it. We didn’t get it.
Since we didn’t get it, we didn’t fit in. This wasn’t our culture. These weren’t our people. We were surrounded by horse people doing horsey things. We were RV guys who would have felt more at home at an RV show (or eating barbecue). We didn’t belong here.
With few exceptions, the spectators weren’t all that into it. A few hooped and hollered but most sat passively and offered only cursory applause at the end of each performance. This was no Saturday afternoon college football game. Since the other spectators weren’t all that into it, why should we be?
I’ve had bad experiences with horses. My wife loves horseback riding and I’ve reluctantly joined her on many rides around the country. After sizing me up and inquiring as to my comfort level, the cowboys always pair me with the oldest and slowest horse in the barn. Then they chastise me throughout the ride for not keeping up.
One painful beach gallop—an anniversary gift to my wife—resulted in tears in my eyes and a week-long limp. On another ride, I watched a church friend crack her head open after being thrown from her horse. I rushed over and applied pressure to her wound with my t-shirt. It was traumatic not only for her and her children but for our other church friends who saw me shirtless. Yes, I’ve got horse baggage.
Still, Joel and I were there, getting our dressage on, surrounded by a few hundred people in an arena designed for a few thousand. Our experience and attitude regarding equestrian competitions reminds me of the way a lot of people view going to church.
“I don’t know anybody. It’s an auditorium full of strangers.”
“I don’t know what’s going on. There’s a lot of unfamiliar jargon and peculiar practices. What’s with the bread and juice ritual? What are elders and deacons? Where does the money go? How does this class or sermon relate to my real-life problems? I’m so confused.”
“I don’t belong. They have established friend groups and I’m an outsider. These are church people doing churchy things.”
“I’ve had bad experiences. I remember the way the church treated my parents during their divorce. Also, no one visited me when I was in the hospital, or the year I was shut-in due to the virus. I’ve got a closet full of church baggage.”
“The church members weren’t all that into it. No one made comments or asked questions in Bible class. The singing was ho-hum—not much energy. Everyone sat far apart from each other, even pre-Covid. Not much Spirit in this place.”
The result? Fewer people attend worship services these days. Like the Equestrian Center, many faith groups struggle to fill their building. What can be done? How can we reverse the trend?
Invite people. Bring them to a decision point. When is the last time you invited someone to church?
When visitors show up, introduce them to others. Connect them with potential friend groups. Take them to the appropriate Bible classes. I left the Equestrian Center with no new friends—no connections. I didn’t get the backstage tour—didn’t meet any riders. It was not enough to just watch them do what they do. We can’t afford for that to happen in our worship services.
Explain terms. Answer questions. Don’t assume people know what’s going on. At the Equestrian Center, one volunteer answered our questions and made sure we had a program. The program explained the scoring, categories, and other relevant material. I read about “change of foot”—a scoring element—and started looking for it. My experience improved once I understood what was going on.
Make people feel like they belong. Get them involved in a ministry. At the Equestrian Center, imagine how our experience would have been different if they had asked Janet to help transport the horses, Karen to hand out programs, or Joel and me to help repair a barn door. We would have felt needed—a part of the action. There would have been instant buy-in to what was going on.
Worship in Spirit. Along with your Bible, bring your passion to worship. Sing out. Participate. Make comments in class. Sit together like family. Say “Amen.” I’m not suggesting a rock concert scene, but worship doesn’t need to be a boring funeral service either.
Finally, consider things that may turn people away, such as archaic terminology or cliques. If you want Joel and me to frequent your equestrian events, or visitors to frequent your worship services, you don’t need throw out the rules—the doctrine. But you must see those events from our perspective. The note from the margin reads: Like Paul, we must consider the perspectives and the culture of the people we’re trying to reach.
Whether Joel and I attend another equestrian event doesn’t matter. Church attendance, however, is paramount. Hebrews 10:25 tells us to, “not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing.” Let’s do all we can to make visitors feel welcome and more likely to return. I may not understand dressage, but I know church services are where we worship God, learn His will, and draw closer to one another.
Rank-ordering trails is like rank-ordering your children, unless one of them is Charles Manson. The highly subjective task involves dozens of variables. Was the trek challenging, leaving you with a sense of accomplishment? Did you meet someone interesting along the way and “talk story”? Are you into wildlife, rock climbing, magnificent vistas, or something historically significant? Do you prefer mountains, watering holes, or jungles? Want an out and back or a loop? How did the weather shape your opinion? Do you want “sustained excellence” throughout the hike or simply a big payoff at the end?
After considering many factors, I ultimately based my list on which hikes I would want to return to if I could only do a limited number, like one or five. With that in mind, let’s countdown my Top 10 Maui Hikes:
10. Waikamoi Ridge Trail – 1 out of 5 stars. After 9.5 miles on the winding Road to Hana, you may be ready to stretch your legs, sip coconut water, and release tension. This is a good place to do that. But I would stick to the picnic area at the beginning of the trail which has the only view. Beyond that, you’re looking at a .9-mile, densely wooded jungle trail with lots of roots and some mud. There are too many better sights and trails along the Road to Hana to spend much time, if any, on this one. For a more detailed description… https://roadtohana.com/waikamoi-nature-trail.php
9. Kuloa Point Trail – 2 out of 5 stars. Beyond Hana, at the very popular Oheo Gulch, you’ll find two popular hiking trails, and this is the lesser of the two. This short, ½-mile hike is well-suited for families, even Grandma. The payoff is arriving at the pools of Oheo Gulch and watching them spill into the ocean. These 22 majestic pools of water were closed to swimming when we were there. Had they been open, this trail would have rated higher. For more on the hike… https://www.hikingproject.com/trail/7017715/kuloa-point-trail
8. Twin Falls Trail – 3 out of 5 stars. This is the first significant stopping point on the Road to Hana, just beyond mile marker 2. After getting a snack, perhaps some coconut candy, at the food truck at the entrance, you’ll take a leisurely, less than 1-mile stroll through the Wailele Farm. Colorful flowers and trees line the path, and a stream runs alongside you. Suggest taking the branches off the main trail to explore the stream and stop for a photo at the first set of falls—the Twin Falls. Be careful—in 2019, a 37-year-old man died here after jumping from the falls into the lower pool and hitting his head.
You’ll eventually ford a small stream and cross a bridge. Soon the beautiful Caveman Falls will come into view. At this point, I had 3 decisions to make:
1) Do I get in the water? Answer: Yes! I’m in Maui! No regrets!
2) Do I swim over to the falls and let them crash down upon me? Yes! Totally exhilarating! (But only do this if you’re a good swimmer.)
3) Do I go over to a vine and swing from it? Answer: No! Do not do this! My short swing from a harmless-looking vine that others had been swinging from caused rocks to dislodge from above me. These rocks crashed down upon my head, arm, and back. I had 11 staples put in my head and will have scars there and probably on my back. Shout out to the Paia Fire Department for being in the vicinity and stopping the bleeding! And also, for only moderately flirting with my wife in the back of the 4-wheeler while I was being transported for triage.
7. Hosmer Grove Loop Trail – 3 out of 5 stars. Just inside Haleakala National Park, at about mile marker 10.5 on Highway 378, you’ll turn left to find the Hosmer Grove Campground and the start of the Hosmer Grove Trail. This half-mile trail is especially suited for tree and bird lovers. In 1909, Ralph Hosmer (1874-1963), the first Superintendent of Forestry of the Territory of Hawaii, created Hosmer Grove as an experimental forestry plot at the 8,500-9,000-foot level on the slopes of Haleakala. Shout out to Hosmer!
Those cedar, spruce, pine, eucalyptus, and other seedlings are now all grown up! In addition to the wonderful trees, you’ll find a variety of beautiful birds, including the colorful honeycreeper which is found nowhere else on earth. For more on this loop trail… https://www.hawaii-guide.com/maui/hiking-trails/hosmer_grove_loop_trail
6. Iao Valley State Park – 3.5 out of 5 stars. Most of the high-end resorts, sandy beaches, and touristy things to do in Maui are in West Maui (Lahaina and vicinity) and South Maui (from Kihei to Makena). Central Maui, on the other hand, is known more for its airport, more affordable shopping (e.g., WalMart, Costco), business, and politics. However, a must-do stop in Central Maui is the Iao Valley State Park.
On your way there, stop at Kepaniwai Park, a waterside park with a Japanese temple and short walks in themed gardens celebrating Hawaii’s culture. This is a great spot for a picnic along the creek, with the West Maui mountains and giant banyan trees surrounding you. A little farther up the road you reach Iao Valley State Park, which comes with a $10 parking fee, payable at an entrance kiosk. This is not a “hike” in the traditional sense, more of a walk through and around incredibly lush scenery in a stream-cut valley. In fact, this valley is unofficially the “wettest place on earth” with more than 400” of rainfall each year!
There are opportunities to read about the rich, but violent, history of the valley and gaze at the massive, natural rock formation known as Iao Needle. If you want to explore, go down to the water and head along a path going upstream. Or hop in the waters under the bridge for a quick dip. For more information… http://mauiguidebook.com/central-maui/iao-valley-state-park/
5. Keoneheehee – Sliding Sands Trail – 4.5 out of 5 stars. As we begin our Top 5 hikes, we are qualitatively going up a full star. These next 5 are something special—”must do” hikes. Each one offers something unique and exciting and could easily garner a #1 designation depending on what you’re looking for in a hike.
Upon arriving at the Visitors Center atop Haleakala Volcano, you’ll be treated to a jaw-dropping view of the inside of this dormant volcano. Seeing it for the first time was my second favorite moment in Maui (the first was seeing and then hanging out underwater with a sea turtle). If you get up super early and get to the summit in time for sunrise, you’ll get to experience what Mark Twain described as “the most sublime spectacle I have ever witnessed.” (Twain’s second most sublime spectacle, BTW, was watching Aunt Polly force Tom to whitewash that fence.)
Once you recover from the initial shock of peering down into the erosion crater, you can hike it! This is as close as I’ll ever get to walking on Mars. Many people consider it the #1 hike in Maui and I get that. A few things to keep in mind:
1) It can get downright cold at 10K+ feet, especially in the morning, so dress in layers and drink plenty of water.
2) The out and back trail is 12 miles long and what goes down must come up! If you go all the way down (we did not), you’ll then have to ascend along the sliding sands, with no shade, at 10,000 feet elevation. It’s not technically difficult, and the elevation gain/loss is consistent, but recliner lifestyle folks will find the climb out challenging. If you don’t have a full day or are not in good shape, just go a reasonable distance down the trail and then return.
3) Be sure to stay on the trail, so you don’t damage the rare and native Silverswords that grow near the trail.
4) If you’re interested in spending the night, there are cabins on the floor of the crater, available using a lottery system. Had we done that, this trail probably would’ve made the Top 2.
4. Waihee Ridge Trail – 4.5 out of 5 stars. First, let’s get the negative out of the way. This popular, northwest Maui trail has a small parking lot—we had to wait 10 minutes in a queue for a spot to open. Second, the first hundred yards or so of the trail are on a paved, very steep incline. Don’t let that discourage you. And don’t release any wheelchair-bound loved ones at the top of it—they’ll end up in downtown Wailuku. It gets (mostly) better. Third, the trail is very muddy in spots and chances are good you will slip and fall at some point.
Still, this is one of my favorite trails on Maui. The 4.5-mile, out and back hike is challenging! Janet will tell you she struggled at times, thought about quitting several times, and fell in the mud once. A little over a mile in, we hit a point where I didn’t know if she was going to cry, get mad, or find another gear and finish. Thankfully, she found that other gear, and I’m so proud of her!
In addition to being a challenging hike, the journey up the spine of the Waihee Valley offers lush scenery, a view of a waterfall, exciting ridgeline hiking, and (weather permitting) a gorgeous view of the coastal valley below. You’ll encounter rare birds, magnificent ferns, and tourists with muddy shorts and knees! It was our most difficult Maui hike, but also one of the best! For more information… http://mauiguidebook.com/adventures/waihee-ridge-trail/
3. Hoapili Trail – 5 out of 5 stars. When I get excited thinking about and describing a hiking trail, I know it has earned five stars. Such is the case with the Hoapili Trail. Back in 1790, or perhaps a little earlier, Haleakala erupted for the last time (maybe) and spewed lava along Maui’s southeast shore at La Perouse Bay, literally growing the island. Today, you’ll find a jagged, lava rock coastline, sea estuaries teeming with life, pristine snorkeling waters, secluded beaches, wildflowers, crashing waves, possible dolphin sightings, gnarled trees, lava fields as far as the eye can see, and wild goats. For the inner kid in me who wants not just to hike, but to explore nature, this hike has it all. It’s the kind of coastal hike an imaginative computer programming might come up with for a video game.
The full hike is a 6-mile round trip, but you may opt to turn around earlier once you’ve gotten the full lava experience. Wear sturdy hiking boots as you travel this surreal, rocky landscape, straight out of a Star Wars set. You also may want to bring an extra sandwich and bottle of water for the homeless person you’ll likely find at the trailhead parking lot here, and sometimes at other trailheads. For a more detailed description of the trail… https://www.maui-hikes.com/hoapili-trail
2. Kapalua Coastal Trail – 5 out of 5 stars. This 2.5-mile trail is more of a walk than a hike, but what a picturesque walk it is! It’s the perfect trail for families who want to see Maui’s beauty, without the difficulty of some of the other hikes on this list. It would also be a great running or dog-walking trail.
Like the Hoapili Trail, this one has a little something for everyone, including beaches, tidal pools, lava rocks, a wonderful view of Molokai, a bird sanctuary, great snorkeling (Kapalua Bay Beach), thundering surfs, sea cliffs, resort views, surfers, and more. My favorite part was exploring the lava formations, something you just don’t get to do at too many places in the world. For more information… https://www.alltrails.com/trail/hawaii/maui/kapalua-coastal-trail?u=i
1. Pipiwai Trail – 5 out of 5 stars. Coming in at #1 is the 4-mile (round trip) Pipiwai Trail, located at the Oheo Gulch (7 Sacred Pools) in northeast Maui, in the Haleakala National Park. What a hike! Getting to it could be considered a plus or a minus, depending on whether you love or hate the thought of driving the winding Road to Hana and then another 12 miles. Once there, you’re in for a treat! What makes it so special?
1) It’s challenging. Not terribly strenuous, but the 600 feet of elevation gain, in a jungle, on a warm day, will cause you to break a sweat. Plan on 2 hours if you’re in good shape.
2) It’s very well maintained—the national park system is obviously proud of it, as they should be. And a shout out to them for giving a free annual pass to all national parks for active and retired military members!
3) There is an AMAZING bamboo forest! I’ve walked through scenic bamboo patches before and admired the beauty. Multiply that by 1000! This is not a patch but a forest—tens of thousands of 40’ high bamboo trees, tightly packed together and swaying in the wind. Walking through them, sometimes along a boardwalk, was mystical, magical, and marvelous!
4) Massive banyan trees! The Lahaina Banyan is the largest and most impressive in Maui, and its children somehow ended up on the Pipiwai Trail. I kept waiting for Tim Burton to descend from the massive, intertwined branches with butterflies emerging from his nostrils.
5) Makahiku Falls! Stop at a scenic overlook to catch your breath and take in these incredible falls. It looks like a place where God might have considered placing Adam and Eve back in the day. There are off-limits, fenced off spur trails leading from here to “infiniti pool” atop Makahiku Falls and another to its base. In 2003, a 39-year-old high school chemistry teacher from Kentucky and his 11-year-old daughter died while taking one of these spurs and crossing a shallow stream to get to the waterfall. A flashflood hit the canyon and a 6-foot wall of water swept them downstream. Two other family members watched in horror and were later awarded a $5M settlement. Now the area is off-limits.
6) Various bridges over Pipiwai stream, with views of more step waterfalls and pools…and then a stream crossing—not difficult, but your feet are getting wet.
7) And finally, the big payoff…the 400’ Waimoiku Falls! Your hour or so of hiking is rewarded with a stunning view of this magnificent waterfall towering above you. We complied with the sign warning not to go closer or be subject to a $100 fine. Other visitors went right on by the sign to the base of the falls.
There you have it, my Top 10 Hikes in Maui. For pictures from each of these hikes, check out the Maui albums on my Facebook page or the above links.
I should also mention a hike I had hoped to do but did not get to: the Wai’anapanapa State Park & Coastal Trail – This was one of my must-do stops at Mile Marker 32 on the Road to Hana. Sadly, when we arrived at the parking lot, they told us entry required a pass, available only online, and they were sold out for the day. Thus, we never got to see the famed black sand beach, twisted foliage, lava caves and tubes, and even a blowhole. I suspect it would have been a more jungle-like version of the previously described Hoapili Trail and Kapalua Coastal Trail. I also suspect it would have fallen in my Top 6 or 7 hikes. For more info on the Waianapanapa Coastal Trail… https://www.alltrails.com/trail/hawaii/maui/waianapanapa-coast-trail-south?u=i
There are many other hiking trails on Maui. Some were longer than we wanted to tackle for a day hike…
If you’ve never been to Maui, I hope you can go one day. There’s a reason the Conde Nast Traveler readers have voted it the “top island in the world” for 20 consecutive years. While you’re there, I hope you get to experience some of these amazing hikes in God’s beautiful creation!
Trying to explain God is futile. Trying to interpret his providence is like repeatedly pushing the button at a crosswalk in order to make the light change faster. His thoughts are higher than our thoughts and his ways are higher than our ways. (Isaiah 55:8-9) He is God and we are not. Try as we might, we’re not going to adequately define him or put him in a box.
Still, I’m part of a group of Christians who believe that God is at work in the world. He loves us and providentially cares for us. He ensures that, ultimately, all things work together for good. (Romans 8:28) That doesn’t mean today will seem “good” or easy—mine wasn’t. You may be fighting cancer, trying to make ends meet, or fighting to save your marriage. I get that. What it does mean is that, for those who put their faith in God—who trust and obey—your story ends well…regardless of how or when it ends.
Today, our 10th day on Maui, started out with great promise. We were finally going to begin our journey on the Road to Hana—Maui’s #1 attraction. The 53-mile long, picturesque, curvy road is like a highway of undiscovered treasures waiting to be opened. Those who know me well will not be surprised that I have done extensive research and had a plan. Over a period of three non-consecutive days, Janet and I would travel the road in three sections and make 29 different stops, to include notable nature hikes, funky food huts, historic church buildings, and scenic overlooks. Getting behind the wheel this morning, I felt like a wide-eyed 8-year-old on Christmas morning.
As boxer and renowned philosopher Mike Tyson once put it, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” Today I got punched in the mouth.
At mile marker 2, the first recommended stop on the Road to Hana, we pulled into a rocky parking lot at the Twin Falls trailhead. The one-mile, roundtrip hike through a rainforest is easy, accessible, and breathtaking. We stopped for photos along the way and even had the opportunity to ford a shallow stream.
Upon arriving at the Falls, Janet asked if I was going in for a dip. Of course, she already knew the answer. I have a bit of an adventurous streak in me that compels me to go on long hikes, explore the unknown, stretch my comfort zone, and extract every ounce of fun from whatever setting I’m in. When I’m in Maui for what may be my only trip here, at a waterfall I may never see again, I’m going to get wet! It’s how I’m wired.
Twin Falls, Road to Hana
About 11 a.m., I swam over to the waterfall and let the cold, refreshing water crash down upon me. So exhilarating! Along with the other tourists frolicking in the water around me, I felt so alive! This was a special place—I had opened the first of 29 Road to Hana gifts!
Photo by Paul Stamatiou
As I turned to swim back to shore, I noticed a mother and her three children off to my left. One of the boys, about 10 years old, was up on a boulder, just a couple feet above the waterline, holding on to a long vine that extended from the roof of the cavern. Clutching the vine, he jumped from the rock, swung out into the water, and dropped with a scream and a splash. How fun! The little voice in my head spoke up, “You’ve got to do that!”
I swam over toward the vine and watched as the other children took their turns on the swinging vine. I realized they are children and I am not. I understood they are little, lightweight bluegills and I am a pudgy, 55-year-old manatee. But the voice in my head persisted, “You’ve got to do this!” As Seals and Crofts once put it, “We may never pass this way again.” Carpe diem!
I stepped up on the rock, steadied myself, and reached for the vine. I looked out to ensure the landing zone was plenty deep and free of obstructions. As vine/rope swings go, this one was pretty lame. I would travel 8 or 9 feet, at most, and then plop into the water with a splash.
I gripped the vine as high as I could, jumped off the rock, and swung just a few feet before releasing my grip and splashing into the water. But right as I hit the water, something came crashing down on my head! That something turned out to be a dozen or so rocks that had dislodged in the cavern ceiling above me, although the vine remained in place.
As I staggered to my feet, the mom swimming nearby, with a look of horror on her face, said, “Oh my! You’re bleeding bad! You need to get to shore!” I looked down and my entire chest was covered in blood, along with my hands. My first thought was to put direct pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, so I reached for the source of pain—the back of my head—and applied pressure. As Janet scrambled to make her way over from the other side of the shore, a man steadied me and helped me to the shallow rocks. I never lost consciousness but I’m pretty sure I was in shock for several minutes.
What happened next may be considered by some to be “good luck” or “random good coincidence.” But as a believer, I’m not ruling God out of the equation. Granted, I can’t calculate the spiritual equation—can’t fully explain it. But somehow, someway, I believe God was involved, providing providential care. I don’t know how else to explain it.
First, at the moment the rocks came crashing down on my head, a couple of firemen were nearby doing a safety inspection of the trail, due to the heavy rains that had recently fallen. They hurried over to me and took over, treating the gash in my head and examining the abrasions on my back and right arm. They were calm, collected, and reassuring—true professionals. God bless them! Joining them was an older woman of German descent who we assume is an employee of the farm this trail is on. She just happened to have a 4-wheeler!
So, I rode shotgun as Janet and one of the firemen got in the backseat. With blood still trickling down my head, I overheard Janet strike up a conversation with the fireman. It turns out he’s a fireman originally from Chicago, and she binge watches Chicago Fire, a show about hunky firefighters from Chicago. So the two of them had a lot in common and a lot to talk about. Don’t mind me! I’ll be up here with a gushing head wound if you need me! Just messing—but I’ll probably get her a Firemen’s calendar for Christmas!
After our half-mile journey on a way too bumpy trail, we were met at the trailhead by several other firemen. They examined my body, reapplied bandages, and asked a bunch of questions, in search of concussion symptoms. To her credit, Janet did not mention any suspected injuries of herself to them.
We declined their offer to call an ambulance. Janet felt comfortable driving the 30 or so minutes back into town and to the nearest hospital. She drove the curvy road like a champ!
Janet dropped me off at the ER check-in, a tent just outside the main building, while she went to park. I was surrounded by patients with an array of ailments. And here’s where God’s providence seemed to be working overtime again. I struck up a conversation with a patient sitting directly across from me, also in the queue to be treated. I’ll call him Andy.
I immediately hit it off with this 31-year-old of Indian descent, who spent most of his life in Georgia. We somehow connected. I explained what brought me to the ER and he reciprocated. Andy came to the island a little over a year ago on business, intending to stay a short while, and then Covid hit. He has an ongoing struggle with alcoholism and was there at the ER to get treatment—“to detox.” Our conversation turned to why we were in Maui which led to a rich conversation on our faith journeys. He has roots in Hinduism but is searching for answers and is “looking for Jesus.” What an opportunity!
By this time, Janet had parked the car and returned to join in on the conversation. We invited Andy to come worship with us and do lunch or just hang out. He intends to do so, hopefully by next Sunday, when his detox is over. I asked if I could pray for him and he said that would be great. About halfway through the prayer, I became overwhelmed with emotion and started to tear up…something that also happened two months ago while praying with my dad. More than anything, I think it dawned on me that the incident near the waterfall, bad as it was, could have been far worse. I, along with that nearby family with children, could have been killed. God spared us. I also felt the emotion of the opportunity God had given me to minister to a young man in the fight of his life. Maybe that, and not snorkeling with sea turtles, is why The Johnsons are really on Maui.
I eventually got taken to a room inside where I got 5 shots of anesthetic, 8 staples in the head, a cleansing of the head, arm and back wounds, a tetanus shot, and a prescription for antibiotic. After waiting 35 minutes for the shot, a nurse came in to check the wounds and said I needed 3 more staples. Those 3 staples felt far worse than the first 8—maybe the anesthetic had worn off some. I can only describe the pain as, well, someone shooting staples in your head.
Chicago Fire, Baby!
So now we’re back home and I’m reflecting on the day that was.
I’m so impressed with Janet, the love of my life, for her calmness, her driving an injured man along the curvy Road to Hana, and her washing around my head wounds this evening.
I’m just overflowing with thankfulness to God, perhaps more than I’ve ever been before.
He spared my life and has given me a new lease on life.
He saw fit, somehow, to have firemen nearby as blood gushed from my head…and provided a sweet, little German woman on a 4-wheeler.
And, most importantly, he gave me the opportunity to pray with a young man and talk to him about Jesus. We talked (texted) again tonight, just before he was admitted. I hope you’ll pray for Andy too—God knows his real name.
Day 10 in Maui had some pain, for sure. But it also, I believe, had some providence.
And oh, by the way, had those rocks killed me, that would have been okay, too.
I recently contacted a long-time friend and fellow author, Lynne, to ask a favor. I wanted her to take a call from another long-time friend and up-and-coming writer. This young man was looking for advice on writing Christian fiction and Lynne was uniquely qualified to give it. She said, “I would be happy to talk to him. So many people have poured into my life and writing. I love opportunities to pour into others.”
Our conversation and that phrase—poured out—have been looping in my head ever since. The way I get relief from ideas clanging around in my head at all hours of the day and night is to write about them. So here goes…
“So many people have poured into my life.”
I think Lynne speaks for all of us. I got to thinking this morning about those who have poured into my life. An incomplete list includes…
Parents who sacrificed time, money, and energy to raise me.
Teachers who taught me everything from reading and writing to algebra and business law.
Coaches who taught me how to dribble a basketball, field a grounder, and pull as lead blocker on a sweep.
Air Force leaders who taught me about leading people, managing budgets, and accomplishing the mission.
Relatives—particularly sons, siblings, and in-laws—who encourage me regularly with a reassuring phone call, text, or piping hot S’more.
Friends who know me well enough to know it’s time to take Steve for a coffee or a hike.
Preachers and Bible class teachers who have taught me to love God, obey his word, and try my best to live like his Son.
A wife who, every day, has a knack for knowing which of my “battery cells” need water and then topping them off.
A God who pours out his Spirit on me whenever I humble myself and allow him to.
I’m profoundly thankful for the people who have poured into my life and continue to do so. I haven’t thanked you enough.
But don’t miss Lynne’s second statement…
“I love opportunities to pour into others.”
My friend is on to something. At some point in our lives we have to make a conscious effort to go beyond just getting poured into. We have to do some pouring ourselves. We become the parent, coach, teacher, spouse, and friend who pours our lives into others. That’s where real joy comes in. That’s the essence of being a Christ follower. That’s why Lynne was willing to take the call.
The Apostle Paul knows something about being poured out. In Philippians 2:17, he writes, “But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you.” Paul is referring to the Old Testament practice of pouring a drink offering in worship. A priest would sacrifice a lamb, ram, or bull, and then he would pour wine beside the altar. The wine was “poured out”—all of it.
Upon becoming a Christian, Paul picked up his spiritual pitcher, so to speak, and began pouring blessings on others. He was about as all-in on Jesus and faith as you’ll find in Scripture. When we read the powerful words that he wrote and consider his example, he continues pouring into our lives…two thousand years later. Eventually Paul would die for his faith—the ultimate act of being poured out. Of course, a sinless Christ, the Lamb of God, did the same for us.
I’ll leave you with two thoughts:
1. To be in a position to pour into someone’s life—to serve, to give, and to love—you have to have something in the pitcher. All the better if your pitcher is over-flowing to the point it can’t help but spill out on those in your vicinity. One of the best ways to keep your spiritual pitcher topped off is to be in God’s Word every day. Read it. Study it. Feast on it. Meditate on its implications for your life. When you consistently allow God’s Word to fill your heart and life, his Holy Spirit goes into over-drive. Your soul is replenished. And there’s going to be spiritual spillage. Whether they like it or not, those in your orbit are going to get wet.
2. To a young person who might stumble upon this blog… don’t wait until you’re “all grown up” to start pouring into the lives of others. Case in point: As some of you know, I’ve recently gone through a bit of a valley in my life related to some difficult family matters. In the midst of it all, I celebrated my 55th birthday. Among many thoughtful cards and gifts and comments, I received a hand-made birthday card in the mail from Megan, a 2nd grader who I occasionally have the privilege to teach. It absolutely made my day! I mean, how many 2nd graders do you know who send birthday cards to their 55-year-old substitute teacher? (I used to make faces and shoot rubber bands behind the back of my subs!) What kind of a young person goes to the trouble of making a card and locating an address? A child with a heart of gold. A child who Jesus may have had in mind when he said, “unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” A child whose spiritual pitcher is over-flowing…and I just happened to be in her vicinity.
“So many people have poured into my life.”
How about yours?
“I love opportunities to pour into others.”
What will you do with the opportunity God gives you today?
One of the greatest aspects of hiking the Appalachian Trail is also one of the most frustrating. Over the course of about six months and five million steps, you cross paths with hundreds of people. The broke, recently graduated high student considering a career in the military. The short, middle-aged Australian lady with an owl cap who is working on her doctoral dissertation. The young man who, in an effort to lower pack weight, is on a diet of packets of pure Crisco oil. Random people trying to walk off a failed marriage or memories from a nightmarish war. A young man who, unbeknownst to anyone, would take his life after finishing the trail. Young and old people. Happy and troubled people. Skinny, smelly, and hairy people, all bound by a common goal. The AT has it all.
You may share only a passing “hello.” You may spend only a few moments together at a watering hole. If you’re lucky, you may form a “bubble” of hiking comrades and spend a few days or weeks together, bonding along the way. You listen to their life stories and learn of their goals, fears, and battles with golf ball-sized blisters and plantar fasciitis. You get to know people as you traverse mountains together, enjoy magnificent vistas, weather thunderstorms, and huddle together in the bitter cold.
And then it’s over. The vast majority of people you meet along the way—fellow hikers, trail angels, hostel owners—will never be heard from or seen again. That’s the frustrating part. So many people you wish you could live near, hang out with, and get to know better. That rarely happens.
However, there are exceptions. Every once in a while, you get an update from someone who was, at the time, just a random encounter on the AT.
That brings us to Boomerang. On June 25th, 2016, my 106th night on the Appalachian Trail, after hiking 1,220 miles, I made a steep climb out of Port Clinton, PA, and found a suitable tenting spot near a spring. I was joined by a fellow thru-hiker, a millennial blessed with an 11th toe. Naturally, his trail name was “ET” for Extra Toe. I told him I expected him to complete the trail 10% faster than everyone else.
We were joined by a friendly section hiking couple from California—Boomerang and Redwood. During supper, I shared the origins of my trail name, Fob, and the others reciprocated. Boomerang once led a church hiking group called Trailblazers. The group consisted of hikers with varying levels of experience, so a “sweep” was positioned in the back to motivate any lagging hikers who risked falling behind. Still, Boomerang felt responsible for everyone and thus would regularly hike back and forth, from the front to the end and back, to make sure everyone was okay. Her back and forth movement earned her the trail name Boomerang. I love that concept, and it became Fob Fundamental #34 from my second AT book: “Young people need parents, teachers, youth ministers, coaches, and others to serve as ‘sweeps’ and ‘boomerangs,’ helping to keep our youth on the right path and pace.”
The next morning, we said our goodbyes and got back on the trail. I did not expect to see or hear from this California couple again. I was from a different part of the country, on a different hiking pace, with a different goal in mind. Realistically, our encounter, though much appreciated, would be a one-time-only event like so many others.
Thankfully, I was wrong. Like a good boomerang, Michelle Telles, aka Boomerang, swung back into my life recently. She commented on one of my blogs, and then we exchanged emails. I was excited to hear what this woman has been up to and I thought I’d share it with you.
Boomerang volunteers with the California Southern Baptist Disaster Relief Ministries (CSBDRM). This is the third largest disaster relief organization in the country, behind the Red Cross and Salvation Army, with whom they often partner. They also work alongside federal agencies like FEMA, although they do not accept federal funding or reimbursement. In 2019 alone, SBDR clocked 670,000 volunteer hours and made 368,000 meals!
In April of 2019, Boomerang and a friend attended an SBDR training class in clean-up and recovery and earned their yellow DR shirt, along with “an official ugly yellow hat to match.” This past June, after retiring from a long teaching career, she packed her “go bag” and prepared for her first Disaster Relief deployment.
Boomerang and her friend, Jan
As you’ve probably heard, California has been ravaged by wildfires this year. More than 8,200 fires have consumed over 4 million acres, doubling the previous record. With thousands of evacuees moving into temporary shelters in late August, Boomerang saw her first action. She “marveled at God’s wicked sense of humor” when her first assignment was to work for five days in a church kitchen, a three-hour car ride away from home, preparing meals for local evacuees. She was concerned that God had forgotten that she doesn’t know how to cook and “knew very little about kitchen things.” Besides, she was badged in clean-up and recovery, not kitchen work!
Thankfully, she packed her willing spirit and learned fast. Her experience from that deployment qualified her for the next…also in the kitchen. Sometimes, rather than calling the qualified, God qualifies the called.
Boomerang shared with me that many of her lady friends find satisfaction in craft parties, missionary letter writing, and exchanging recipes. While there’s nothing wrong with that, she finds more enjoyment in sleeping in odd places and getting dirty. Imagine her delight when God used her quirky skills to His glory during her third and fourth deployments. She was tasked with doing recovery among the ashes of homes caught in rampant wildfires. With her air mattress and sleeping bag on the floor of a Sunday School room at a church building, she prepared herself to serve.
Boomerang shares her experience:
“I find it difficult to fully express the feeling of giving a family something as simple as a charred metal rooster and watching the expression of the homeowner’s face light up with joy. My team recovered coins, a plethora of various ceramic turtles and pigs, crystals, swords, pot pipes, fingernail scissors, tools, jewelry, and a host of other items, but my personal favorite was a porcelain plaque that asserted, ‘Home is where the mom is.’ Of all the valuables this woman had, all she wanted was this plaque, and I made it my special mission to find it. Like an archeologist looking for rare artifacts, I dug through rubble and gently swept away ash. Piece by piece, the plaque began to reveal itself. Each time I found a piece, I placed it on a flat surface of a charred barbeque. I made this journey to the barbeque seven times until the plaque was complete. Like the charred rooster, this one simple item brought a small beacon of hope to an otherwise hopeless situation.”
After each “ash out,” the team and the property owners gather together. The owners are presented a Bible, signed by everyone on the team, and a prayer is offered. Words of encouragement are expressed by everyone, and grateful owners typically dispense hugs.
Boomerang adds, “The satisfaction of supporting these fire victims is addicting and I get a real joy (blessing) when I’m included in their process forward. The verse that continually runs through my head (my true motivation) is: ‘And he said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’’” (Matthew 22:37-39)
As we prepare to turn the calendar on a new year, I have a hope and a suggestion for you.
My hope is that you experience a “boomerang” encounter in 2021. I hope a long lost friend, family member, hiking buddy, or someone else re-enters your life and inspires you, the way Boomerang has inspired me. If a boomerang doesn’t find you, maybe you can be the boomerang for someone else.
Out of the ashes, treasures emerge.
Let me suggest that, as a lone New Year’s Resolution, or perhaps grouped with others, you find a neighbor to love as yourself. Could be in a disaster zone. Could be at a homeless shelter or nursing home. Could be the coworker in the next cubicle or the classmate who sits behind you. Could be your next door neighbor.
Everyone outside of myself is my neighbor and I need to try to love them the way Jesus loves them. In 2021, I’m going to be a boomerang, a sweep, or a lifeline to someone.
