A Word of Encouragement from Elizabeth Rice Handford
It was a long, exhausting 3-day trip of 2,200 miles—that drive Walt and I made every year from Chicago to Seattle to visit his parents. In the 1950’s there were no interstates, and the roads were cluttered with cities and villages, and often consisted of only two lanes. We sometimes took side excursions—Grand Coulee Dam, Hell’s Half-Acre, Mount Rushmore, the Snake River, or Jackson Hole in the Grand Tetons—to break the long journey. The children often quavered, “Are we there yet?” when we still had two long day’s journey ahead.
One early morning, on our second day of traveling back home from Seattle, Walt was driving and I was navigating with the map. “Walt!” I cried, “Look! We could drop down into Yellowstone Park by the north entrance, and come back up to our highway by the north-east entrance. It wouldn’t be too far—it’s only two inches or so on the map!”
Well, we “dropped down” into Yellowstone, but it was no casual drop. The road actually followed the continental divide. Old Faithful, the Morning Glory Pool, the strange weathered stone sculptures were certainly worth the detour. But what I hadn’t noticed, when I suggested we “drop down” into Yellowstone, was that the road back up to our highway toward home crossed Beartooth Pass. The pass itself lies 11,000 feet high, and the road climbs 3,000 feet out of Yellowstone, with innumerable switch backs up the mountainside. I was driving, and it was late afternoon. I thought we would never, ever reach the illusive pass. So much for “dropping down” into Yellowstone!
How can I describe the wonder we felt when we finally reached the pass? A vast view of mountain ranges and lakes, rivers and roads, lay before us. God’s indescribably beautiful creation in all its pristine loveliness stretched out hundreds of miles before us. We stood there, enchanted, gazing until darkness fell, then headed for Red Lodge, Montana, and a night’s sleep. This was 75 years ago, and I am still awed by the memory of that incredible view from Beartooth Pass.
The Bible Book of Hebrews chapter eleven likens our lives as a journey of pilgrims from a distant land going home. Our lives on this earth are filled with uncertainty, conflict, pain, and sorrow—but often with glimpses of glory as well. On this pilgrimage of life, we long for the eternal Home our faithful God promised us. Glory lies ahead of us—but we are not there yet.
Psalm 23 promises us:
Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
For Thou art with me.
There are endless switch-backs on this arduous pilgrimage, tedious toil and heartache, but with wonderful glimpses of God’s glory and care as we journey day after day, year after year. So we take great comfort with His unbreakable promise:
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life.
And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever!
Are we there yet? No, not yet. But take heart. We will someday reach the summit of that high mountain pass. And Home—and the Father—lie just beyond.