REACHING OUT

At church today, one of the speakers in Sacrement Meeting told a story . . .

When he was in college, he went hiking with a group of friends. He lived in Arizona, somewhere near Phoenix, and they often hiked together, when it wasn't too hot. He was the only guy in this group of friends . . . and because of this, he had a tendency to try to show off and impress his female friends . . .

On one particular hike, they started into a canyon where they hadn't been before, and hiked for a couple of hours before reaching a dead end . . . The canyon ended at a sheer rock face, to the best of his estimates, probably 75 feet high. A little in front of the cliffs was a shallow pool, where the canyon floor dipped a little. They were hot and tired, and now faced the prospect of returning back the way they had come and never making it to their planned 'point B'.

As they sat on the rocks around the pool discussing their predicament, another group of hikers showed up. These hikers obviously were well acquainted with the area, and were dressed, ready to climb the sheer rock face. They had on climbing shoes, those fingerless gloves, and after stopping for a quick drink, they began scaling the cliff.

The man who spoke today said he watched them for a minute and noted that though they had special shoes and gloves, they did not have rope or pitons . . . none of the extra, specialized climbing gear with them . . . which made him think maybe it was a fairly easy climb and wanting to impress the girls he was with, (and without much thought) he started up after them.

He was not a climber, and not experienced, but he tried to keep an eye on the men ahead . . . so that he could reach for the crevices they had reached for . . . and so he would know where to put his hands and feet.

He did this for awhile, until he reached for a crevice, and found nothing but smooth, vertical rock under his fingers, no matter how far he stretched or which direction he reached. He suddenly realized how stupid what he had done was . . . He was on a sheer rock face, about fifty feet from the ground, and still a good twenty five feet from the top . . . following a group he was not a part of, and which in all likelihood who had no idea he was even behind them.

As he was frozen there against the rock, his toes gripping a tiny crevice, and only having a handhold for one hand, he realized that he was truly stuck. His grip was fading fast, and his muscles, unaccustomed and untrained for this kind of a workout were trembling with exhaustion.

His friends on the canyon floor saw him pause and began shouting encouragement, but they were too far below to see how panicky he felt, and too far away to offer any help. He prayed, but no big hand from the sky scooped him up and deposited him either up or down, and so he decided that his only option was to push off from the rock face and jump, trying to clear the rocks and make it to the shallow pond. Hopefully there was enough water to cushion his fall, which would (if he did manage to clear the rocks, which was unlikely) perhaps keep the damage to a few broken bones, and save his life.

He was more frightened than he had ever been in his life . . . but he knew that simply trying to stay on the rockface while he grew more and more fatigued was a very bad idea . . . and there were simply no other options.

Just as he was ready to let go of his precarious grip and jump, suddenly a hand grabbed his arm and an unfamiliar voice said, "here, buddy, let me give you a hand".

One of the climbers HAD inexplicably noticed him following, seen he was in trouble, and climbed back down to where he could reach him and offer help. The man -- a total stranger that he had never seen before, nor since -- took his arm and pulled him up to the next ledge, then stayed with him, guiding him, encouraging him and helping him to the top.

This story just REALLY touched my heart today . . . As I look back on my life, I can see SO many times and places, where I got myself into a predicament or perhaps just FOUND myself in a predicament of some kind and someone -- often someone unexpected -- reached out a hand to help.

I am more grateful than I can express for my family and extended family and friends and even various strangers who have been 'life savers' for me over the years . . . so for all of those who will never read this . . . and all of you who do or might . . .

Thank you . . .

You may never know just how much your smiles, your kindness, your encouraging words, your friendship have meant to me . . .

But I will never forget . . .