Persevering in a Blizzard

By |Published On: June 21, 2020|Categories: Joni's Posts|

When I was still a little girl, my family and I piled into my mother’s white Buick and drove from our home in Maryland to Colorado to visit my uncle on his ranch. Just before we got there, though, we took a detour to Pike’s Peak.

Pike’s Peak was a mountain that lived large in our collective family history. In the early 1930s, Daddy made a trip out West with some wrestling buddies and a few people from the Sunday school class he taught. They set out to climb Pike’s Peak, but it began to rain, and then to snow. The snow was more than the other climbers wanted to deal with, and everyone turned back… except for John King Eareckson, my dad. He felt certain that they were near the top. He was going to make it to the top and then catch up with the rest of his group.

But the snow kept coming. It turned into a blizzard and he couldn’t find the top… and even worse, he couldn’t find the path back the way he’d come.

My father was cold and tired, but he knew the only possible way out was to keep walking. As he focused on putting one foot in front of the other, he kept repeating to himself, “I must keep walking… keep walking.” Night fell and then dawn came, and still, he was no closer to finding the path. He began singing a line from one of his favorite hymns, “Let the Lower Lights Be Burning.”

Usually, when Daddy sung that hymn, he placed himself as one of the “lower lights” along a shoreline that helped a struggling seaman find his way safely to harbor, but during those 48 hours of constant walking, he became ‘the seaman who needed rescuing.’ Over and over, in a whisper of song, as he warily placed one foot in front of the other, he kept repeating, “Some poor fainting, struggling seaman, you may rescue, you may save.”

It was a prayer, really. And I’ve found myself following in my daddy’s footsteps on many a bleak night when it seems I am lost in a blizzard of pain. As I wonder whether the morning will ever come, I whisper-sing hymns that become prayers, asking God to rescue me. And though I lie paralyzed in bed, unable to move even my arms, I keep putting one foot in front of the other in my walk with God. Like Daddy, who knew it would be suicide to stop and sink wearily into the snow, I cannot allow myself to sink into despair. It would be the end of me.

Daddy spent a third bone-tired night lost on that mountain, but he eventually stumbled upon train tracks. Knowing they must lead somewhere, he followed them to a miner’s cabin.

There, he was able to get warm, eat a little, and rest. More than 20 years later when our family visited Pike’s Peak, I was amazed we were able to drive our big Buick all the way to the top. How odd that we were able to find the top so easily, when Dad nearly lost his life vainly searching for it.

But Daddy’s white-knuckled determination to make it off the mountain alive has always been a powerful example to me.

If Daddy had died up there on Pike’s Peak, he never would have married Mother, never would have had my sisters… or me. His perseverance through fear and exhaustion has led to the saving of many lives.

There’s no doubt that this year has been rough. COVID-19 feels like a blizzard in which we have lost our way and don’t know when or if we will come through. Please, keep persevering, will you friend? Remember the example of my dear dad, John King Eareckson… you may be weary of it all, but keep taking next steps; keep putting one foot in front of the other; keep whisper-singing hymns to strengthen yourself in Christ. You have no idea what your perseverance may mean to others… perhaps many others.

That’s a little encouragement from my daddy today, on this Father’s Day.

–Joni Eareckson Tada

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