Ten Octobers ago, on the porch of our cabin at a Navigators' retreat, Katie Massey and I bonded over C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity. I was drawn to her depth - obvious even then as a college freshman - and we became instant friends. We have remained dear to one another through a decade of relocations, heartbreak, jobs, illness, and faith realizations. There are a million adjectives to attribute to Katie, but to me she has remained faithful, full of wisdom, courageous and unafraid to ask and explore the hard questions.
Last August I had the privilege to mourn with Katie as an entire community of people honored the extraordinary life and death of her father, Ronny Massey.
In the past year, Katie has grieved the loss of her father while exploring and serving in Utah's wilderness. I'm going to shut up now and let Katie share her past year's adventure with you. Whether you are currently dealing with loss, feeling stuck in a rut, or just wanting to be inspired, I hope you find refuge in Katie's story:
“Courage is fear that has said its prayers”
-Anne Lamott
After my father’s death on August 17, 2010, for the first time in my life, I did not want to live abroad. Instead, I moved to the Utah wilderness.
I was planning and preparing to work overseas, when my family learned that my precious dad had a very aggressive cancer. Rather than an exotic land, I moved from North Carolina back to Alabama to help care for him and spend with him the little time that he had on this earth. Things went far faster than anyone expected and he died six weeks later. These were the most precious and traumatic weeks of my life.
I had already been restless and discontent with my job in NC. After my father’s death, editing reports in an office was unbearable. With international options out of the question, wilderness therapy made a good bit of sense.
Wilderness therapy is a unique approach to treating adolescents and young adults who are struggling with difficulties such as substance abuse, depression, family conflict, etc. Clients spend an average of 2 to 4 months undergoing therapy 80 miles deep in the Utah desert.
My thinking was: 1.) I could play a major role in the lives of people facing big issues and be a part of real, positive change; 2.) I could live in the West (something I have dreamed of for awhile), and 3.) I could have a lot of time to climb, travel and visit family.
I love rock climbing and I love natural beauty, Utah has plenty of both.
It seemed pretty perfect; however, I was utterly terrified. This decision was stock full of unknowns and cold weather (I started in the thick of winter, now it’s an oven out here!). Two things I really hate. The choice of wilderness therapy was also a very non-linear step professionally for me, my two masters degrees and experience in public health research was not important of essential for this job. Despite these fears, there was excitement, inner peace, and a general “good feeling” about this move.
Within the two months of climbing on towering walls, viewing the sunsets of these wide open skies, and feeling the adventure of the wilderness, I felt life return to my soul. In addition, it turned out that my seemingly non-linear choice led me to an advantageous professional step. The company I work with was scaling up a research project and ended up asking me to coordinate it. It has been almost surreal how things worked out to incorporate another passion into life here.
I am not sure how much longer I will be in the wilderness, and I do not know what is behind this canyon wall. Such unknowns continue terrify me. I do know that I am inexpressibly thankful for the solace and adventure that the wilderness has brought to my life. I am eternally grateful that God unsettled my heart enough to make such a drastic and wild move.
"May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds. May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys tinkling with bells, past temples and castles and poets' towers into a dark primeval forest where tigers belch and monkeys howl, through miasmal and mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone, and down again into a deep vast ancient unknown chasm where bars of sunlight blaze on profiled cliffs, where deer walk across the white sand beaches, where storms come and go as lightning clangs upon the high crags, where something strange and more beautiful and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams waits for you --- beyond that next turning of the canyon walls”
~Edward Abbey
