ice climbing Exit Glacier | Seward, Alaska

I never envisioned that one day I would wake up and say, “Today I am going to go ice climb into a glacier crevasse.” Yet, here I was gathering my winter hat, gloves, jacket and rain pants for an afternoon of ice climbing Exit Glacier.

Ice climbing on exit glacier

ICE CLIMBING EXIT GLACIER? Yes, PLEASE!

Our summer in Alaska has been a special series of unique events. We’ve experienced frequent wildlife sightings, the Summer Solstice Midnight Sun Run (click here to see a short TV interview that we were featured in for the run), time in Denali National Park, and bountiful salmon fishing.

midnight sun run
Midnight Sun Run (photo taken at 12:45 AM)

The idea of ice climbing on Exit Glacier is not something I even consider as an option until a friend mentions it. As I search online for Exit Glacier Guides and watch “ice climbing on Exit Glacier” YouTube videos displaying the deep cobalt crevasses, my interest quickly grows from mild interest to strong desire. Trent turns out to be an easy sell and soon we are counting down the days until our ice climbing adventure begins.

I CAN DO THIS

The morning of our ice climb begins with a fitting of gear—helmets, boots, crampons and a backpack. I quickly realize that when I’d assessed the 4.5-mile strenuous hike as doable, I’d failed to factor in a backpack filled with water, boots, winter clothing and my lunch. I give myself the first of several, “I can do this” pep talks that day. We head out to the van and take our places like excited school children on the first day of school.

ice climbing exit glacier

MOOSE, MORAINES, AND BRAIDED RIVERS

After stopping to admire a moose on the side of the road, our afternoon playground comes into view in the distance. Exit Glacier stands, silently entreating us to enter her chambers. We pass signposts along the roadside indicating where she once stood in years past. Like a strange reverse timeline, moraines* mark her history as she slowly fades from the foreground. Pouring out from her depths, a braided river weaves its way through the glacial valley floor. I learn that these unique rivers build up rather than erode the land, because of the large amount of glacial sediment that they carry.

BUSHES, BERRIES, AND BLUE SKIES

Stopping at the Kenai Fjords National Park Visitor Center, we set out on foot. For two hours we hike through forest and bush. Our guides teach us about the local landscape, pointing out edible salmon and watermelon berries as well as poisonous monkshood flowers. For the first time in over a month, I’m sweaty on this balmy 66 degree day which has revealed a rare view of a blue sky.

FLUID FORCE OF BEAUTY

As we close in on Exit Glacier, the temperature shifts drastically downward. Wind is cascading down the glacier’s face bringing with it a winter weather front.

-Hiking shoes off
-Climbing boots on
-Backpack off
-Rain pants on
-Winter gear on
-Helmet and harness on

My first step off the solid ground and onto the glacier is thrilling. I’m making my own “moon landing” moment. My feet traverse a landscape unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

Something like crushed diamonds sparkle in the sunlight beneath my boots. Bits of gravel debris pepper the surface, proof that this mountain of ice is not stationary but maintaining an unrelenting path of forward motion. We step through shallow rivers and over pools of placid blue water. From this vantage point, the glacier is a fluid force of beauty.

LEAN IN, TRUST FULLY

As our guides begin the process of anchoring the climbing ropes, we enjoy our lunch. The view around me creates a scene unparallel to any previous picnic.

Ropes securely in place, our guides proceed to instruct us on how to properly descend into the crevasse—backward, one step at a time, leaning fully into our harness, trusting the ropes, trusting them. Emphasis is placed on those last three points and I begin to focus all my attention on that singular aim—lean in, trust fully.

ICY BLUE CHAMBERS

Once my harness is clipped into the rope, my moment of truth arrives. I’ve never done this before. I have nothing to offer except my obedient, yielded trust. I step back to the edge of the precipice and lean into my harness. This action goes against every ounce of my self-preserving logic but instinctively I know it’s best.

ice climbing exit glacier

My guide begins her careful coaching, offering short, understandable tips seasoned with solid encouragement. My descent into the crevasse is slow and deliberate. As I pause in the depths of her icy blue chambers, I marvel. What I could not have done on my own has just unfolded before my eyes.

ice climbing exit glacier

Waterfalls from melting ice surround me. Bright blue envelops every angle of my view. Sounds from above are muffled and distant. For this moment, I am aware of nothing else.

GROWING CONFIDENCE

My climb out requires a focused sequence of carefully choreographed movements. Right pick, stand, left pick, stand—each movement forced into the ice with decisive action. My first accent is wobbly and full of mistakes but again, my guide is there coaxing, correcting and encouraging.

This process is repeated three additional times down different crevasses. Although my body grows more fatigued from this unique physical exertion, my confidence grows with each successful turn. As I reach the top and pull myself out onto the windy glacier for the last time, my heart is warm.

Ice Climbing Exit Glacier

ice climbing exit glacier

LINGERING LESSONS

As we hike back, my mind lingers over the recent moments that have slipped into my memory. This microcosm of life experience has not escaped my notice. While we will not all ice climb into a glacier, every one of us can think of a time when we have been brought, inexperienced, to the edge of ourselves, facing unfamiliar territory.

Marriage

Parenting

Death

Moving

New Job

New friends

Disease

Injury

Debt

The rules are very much the same: one step at a time, leaning fully into our harness, trusting the ropes, and trusting our Guide. He is there all the time, longing to show us the way, to give His guidance through the dark. Why do we resist, stubbornly sure we can do it our own way? Which of us came into this world with more knowledge than the Creator of it? Which of us secured the lines and hold the safety rope to our very life? What makes us think that anything other than complete yielding will do?

Lord, forgive our self-assured hearts. In our desire to gain confident independence, we crowd You out. We often look away until our situation seems peril, yet You have never left our side. Give us the wisdom to lean fully into You. Help us to listen to Your still, small voice. Remind us who we are in You and be the saving God we so desperately need.

“Those who know your name trust in You, for You, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek You.”Psalm 9:10


*moraine |məˈrān|
noun Geology

A mass of rocks and sediment carried down and deposited by a glacier, typically as ridges at its edges or extremity.


TRAVEL NOTES:

-We used Exit Glacier Guides based in Seward, Alaska. They were knowledgeable, informative and professional and I’d gladly go with them again.

-This glacier ice climb is for anyone 15 and up who is in good physical condition. No experience is necessary.

-Exit Glacier Guides provide all your necessary equipment as well as a yummy lunch and a snack. We brought our own winter clothing however, a few people didn’t have the gloves needed and Exit Glacier Guides was able to supply these as well.

-Rain pants are suggested. I’ll confess I had never even heard of rain pants until I came to Alaska! Thankfully, I was able to find a pair at a local thrift store but Trent did not have any. It was nice to have them but he felt it worked fine without so don’t let that be a deal breaker for you.

So I’m curious, would an ice climb on a glacier be something that you would ever want to do?

sailboat racing | Lake Ontario

It’s warm with a tempting breeze—the kind that beckons you toward refreshing water. Once again, it’s race time for the local sailors on Lake Ontario and they are in need of crew. Now in our 24th day of ongoing engine repair, Trent and I just happen to be available.

SILENT SENTINELS

The sun is dipping low on the horizon as we make our way on to the dock. The water laps softly beneath our feet as we tread past row after row of occupied boatslips. The surrounding schooners stand like silent sentinels, masts reaching skyward. It’s easy to feel insecure in this unfamiliar space. Yet I know that all that stands between the known and the unknown is the experience that lies before me.

sailboats lake ontario

BLUE LIQUID

A crew of six welcomes us aboard the Wind Thief. I’m given a brief tour before we shove off and make our way into the harbor. Once we near the starting point of our race, the motor is retired and the sails are hoisted heavenward. Like bees in a flower garden, the sailboats on the lake permeate the horizon, filling it with vertical sheets of white against a backdrop of blue liquid. Continue reading “sailboat racing | Lake Ontario”

faith escarpment | Hamilton, Ontario

Our truck’s old engine is out and the replacement is ready to go in. Mr. Mechanic is hard on the job. We are left playing the waiting game.

A sunny forecast beckons us to pass the time outside. I pack a lunch, the kids change into swimming suits, and we all climb in the van. Continue reading “faith escarpment | Hamilton, Ontario”

i choose to trust | lessons in faith

It’s morning. The day after the roadside storm that ended with our truck in the shop and us in an unexpected place of surrender.

Before my eyes adjust to the light streaming through my bedside window, I hear the birds. They are happy, flamboyant, carefree. Their jovial song serves as a strong reminder:

“Look at the birds of the air: They do not sow or reap or gather into barns—and yet your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his lifespan?…Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6:26-27, 2”

The truth is stronger than morning coffee. Thus my day begins with this simple prayer, “Lord, instead of worry, today I choose to trust in You. Remind me of that choice should I waver.

Continue reading “i choose to trust | lessons in faith”

Desperate for dependency

One thing that full-time travel is teaching me is that living in a state of dependency affords the best view for provision. Time and again we’ve been shown that God is willing and able to provide for us. However, we have to first be willing to humble ourselves to be dependent on Him. I believe this struggle is not uniquely my own but the challenge of our American culture.

How can we possibly be dependent on God when we pride ourselves so strongly on our own independence? Quite often I think the answer lies in our willingness to step out in faith. Because the more distance we place between our own self sufficiency and our our need for God to show up, the greater the likelihood that we will request His presence.

To illustrate this point I will share a frustratingly low point that I walked through just before we left our hometown in Idaho to begin our time on the road.

Deeply disappointing delays

desperate dependencyOn the eve of our launch day six months ago, this was the view from our RV. We had a van with a cantankerous disposition and a truck 90 minutes away in the shop awaiting a part that was “100% going to arrive that day” but never did.

Our countdown to launch had dwindled to the very lowest number. Now our departure date was at the mercy of two different mechanics in two separate towns working on two different vehicles.

The delay was deeply disappointing considering the obvious build-up of excitement to this moment. However, the daunting discouragement was most firmly rooted in the very possible reality that we would miss out on a doctor appointment scheduled the following day for our youngest son, Tanner, in the town of our first stop three hours away: Coeur d’Alene. Tanner had been experiencing frequent and persistent stomach aches and I felt sure that it was tied to something he was eating. The doctor in Coeur d’Alene was known for assessing and treating allergies with magnets and I was anxious to have Tanner seen by him before we started traveling.

The fact that we were even able to set up an appointment with this doctor on such short notice as a new patient felt like a miracle (new patient appointments were being scheduled four months out). We’d rearranged four dentist appointments and bumped our launch date up by a day in order to make Tanner’s appointment work.

Desperately dependent

I felt utterly defeated by this unforeseen delay. When I asked a few good friends to pray that God would allow us to leave on time in order to make this appointment, a thought occurred to me: why not just ask God to heal Tanner?

It was a valid question, but it also seemed redundant. I’d prayed for him already, several times. Yet, this particular situation pressed my heart toward the reality that my options had just narrowed to allow my dependence to rest solely on the shoulders of my Savior. In this place of surrender I could see my wavering faith with clarity. Why did I find it easier to believe that God would fix our schedule than to heal our son?

In Mark chapter six, a multitude of people had gathered to listen to Jesus speak. As it grew late the disciples and Jesus both recognized the crowd’s need for food. The disciples had their plan in place: outsource the problem–send the people away to get their food. Jesus had another idea: just meet the need. Jesus simply told them, “You give them something to eat.” When the disciples responded confused and frustrated, Jesus asked how many loaves they had.  They gathered their resources (five loaves and two fish) and Jesus blessed the small collection and began dividing it, again, and again and again until all were fed and 12 baskets of food were left over.

Like the disciples, I was ready to outsource Tanner’s treatment, confident that this Doctor would help. When it appeared that option was fading fast, I felt the Lord prompting me to consider the resources I already had on hand.

Providential provision: our only option

That evening friends stopped by to give their final good-bye hugs. I asked them to pray with us for Tanner’s healing and I recognized within myself a unique dependance that had not been there before. God was not the back-up option–He was very likely our only option.

Our launch day proceeded the following day as planned with the exception of a delay just significant enough to prevent us from making it to the doctors office before closing for the extended Labor Day weekend. This meant we absolutely were not going to make our appointment.

Desperate for dependency

It has now been six months and I’m humbled to say that the stomachaches that plagued Tanner for weeks prior to our launch disappeared after the prayer that was offered in a posture of desperation.

desperate dependency

God could have healed Tanner the first time I prayed but instead he chose to wait. God could have used the doctor but He chose not to. I believe God allowed me to reach a point of desperation and dependance in order to allow my faith grow.

I am reminded that the Israelites were only given the food they needed for that day and that if they tried to hoard and save, it spoiled. How do I return each day to God’s table and ask Him humbly to refill my plate? How do I foster a regular dependency on my Saviors’ provision?

I don’t believe it means I turn my back on medical care. I’m not convinced that we need to cease proactive behavior. However, I do believe that my heart needs to be more tuned to respond by instinct toward the heart of my Heavenly Father.

Stepping into the unknown

The longer I know Jesus, the more I am convinced that He is a true gentleman. Scripture says that He stands at the door and knocks (Revelation 6:20). He requests a relationship but does not enter uninvited. Perhaps one of the best ways I can foster dependency is to simply open the door and begin taking steps of faith with Him into the unknown.

desperate dependency

Once I am outside of my area of expertise, I require assistance. The tricky thing is figuring out how far I need to go before I am dependent. One day it might mean examining my giving. Another day it may relate to who I am willing to engage in conversation with. I am finding new opportunities to discover dependency as we travel. However, I believe dependency is more about the position of our heart rather than the location of our home: the challenge lies in desiring it.

We must cease striving and trust God to provide what He thinks is best and in whatever time He chooses to make it available. But this kind of trusting doesn’t come naturally. It’s a spiritual crisis of the will in which we must choose to exercise faith. ~Charles R. Swindoll

What about you? Do you find it challenging to foster a state of dependency? Has God shown up for you when you have been there?