Phoenix kids 1977. Long One Eye—plus we climbed Sun Peak. Spent one whole 24 hours in tents on Smithman Ridge in a torrential downpour. Decision was to go back or finish the route. Decided it was as far to go back as to finish, so we went on. First time One Eye was ever done “missing” a day in the week plus climbing Sun Peak.

Check the kids in Levis. Clown White. Cotton Flannel shirts. Goldline rope.

Jim and Marty Caldwell, Sally Stahl, Monica Smith (McGuckin)

The growth and history go deep at Young Life Beyond Malibu.  Join Beyond Malibu for your epic experience and grow deeper in your relationship with Jesus Christ.

Mountains and Valleys

NOVEMBER 17, 2015 ~ JONNY

“We do not want merely to see beauty though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words–to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it…At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door.”
–C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Eleven high school boys and their Young Life leader, all from Houston, TX, blindly follow my guide partner and I as we trudge across Microwave Bowl, a mile or two of flat glacier at the base of Mt. Albert before the summit push goes slightly more vertical. Divided into three rope teams, we navigate through a whiteout. We have enough visibility to see about the distance of a rope length. When we stop for a drink of water, the boys’ leader looks around, and proclaims (with a charming Texan lilt), “Ok. This is the most surreal thing I have ever done.”

These guys come from a wealthy neighborhood in Texas. None of them have ever done anything like this before, and it is likely they never will again. Life is rarely like this–tied into rope teams, navigating around gaping crevasses, practicing how to stop yourself with an ice axe as you slide backwards headfirst down a snow slope, walking faithfully behind a couple of dudes you just met who promise you they know what they’re doing as you march your way through the white fog.

Rarely is the sense of life’s risk so palpable, the trust so blind, and the goal (and it’s reward) so voluminous and obvious as summiting a mountain. Just a few days and about 8,300 ft prior, these guys were stepping off a boat at sea level.

All week, we have been sharing life stories and looking at what life and community might look like with Jesus at the helm. These guys are pretty aware of the pressures being put on them back home, but the time up here makes it vivid and obvious. There’s a phrase that gets used among students at their school: “The Stratford Cookie Cutter,” named after the cultural mold of school and community that divides their future into specific shapes to be baked into place like doughy cookies in an oven.

On this trip, for the first time in many of their lives, perhaps, they are experiencing real connection and community. They wonder aloud to each other why they treat each other so poorly, speak so unencouragingly to one another. They are weary of partying, of only being known on the surface, of flimsy relationships with girls, of being pushed from behind to become the next purveyors of successful lives defined by “good” jobs and material success. And they are so ensnared–their personal brokenness, the brokenness of their friends, the brokenness of their greater community back in Texas.

With all distractions stripped away and the real-time adventure of the mountains, it’s easier to see life, God, and ourselves in better light. We see this in Matthew 17, when Jesus leads Peter, James, and John “up a high mountain” and before them is transfigured–his face shining like the sun and his clothes a dazzling white. Up on the mountain, the disciples are getting a glimpse of who Jesus really is, without distraction, in fuller glory. Peter declares, “Lord, it is good for us to be here.” He suggests setting up some dwellings to stay even longer.

But we cannot live on the mountain top. As mountain guides at Beyond, we try to help our groups think about the tough transition back to the valley. We process what it means to take the clarity of the “mountain top experience,” the shining face of Jesus, back into the chaos of normal life. As Jesus and the disciples descend the mountain, he orders them to “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” The mountain top experience is not the permanent manifestation of new life, but simply a glimpse of the beginning of its glory.  Now, with the summer over, it’s time for us guides and basecamp to practice what we preach.

Separated from the palpable, physical adventure, it’s difficult to know what this looks like. At the dock, I’m greeted by my car which has a flat tire and no discernible trace of oil on the dipstick. Later, when I get wifi on the ferry, my phone blows up with texts and I make the horrible mistake of looking at my email inbox. In Spokane, I’m greeted by ideas, habits, obligations, and relationships, which I’ve left piled up like my things in my friend’s garage for the summer, collecting sawdust, and it’s time to dust them off and get things back into their right place again.

It’s hard to know if the experiences that my groups and I had are “real” and if we can trust that they will have any real bearing on our lives. Surely they will. But things are not so clear down here. I’m imagining my Texas boys back home, almost halfway through their senior year already, hoping that their experience this summer was true but unsure how to keep it going. I picture this, because this is what I’m questioning in my own life.

And  I was the GUIDE!

In my own brokenness, I confess my doubt that anything in their lives will really change, or that anything in my life will really change.

In this tension lies the Christian life. We are promised glory, to be welcomed into the heart of things. And indeed, through Jesus, it is already given to us. And yet, we wait for its completion. We see in Romans 8:

22We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now; 23and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. 24For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? 25But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.”

So here we are, back in the valley, visions of glory burned into the memory of the heart. I’m unsure of what comes next, but I trust God’s imagination for the future much more than my own. I do not hope for what I see in front of me, but for what I do not see. And I wait for it with patience

Beyond Comes Home

Growing up, my dad always told me, “You have to say goodbye in order to say hello again.” We do not want to say goodbye to spirit filled moments and glorious creation. For many of our campers there won’t be another dock dance party “hello” to Base Camp and the summits of Beyond. Just as challenging as kicking steps up Mt. Albert, the alders of Mt. Pearkes or the physicality of a day five descent is figuring out how to say “hello” to our Beyond experiences when we are at home.

                                       

The first day of climbing Mt. Albert campers were filling time on the trail with mouthwatering descriptions of Thai food from their hometown. Two months later I was ordering off the menu of the infamous Thai restaurant at a table with my campers. Their faces were shiny, hair clean and one even clad in his Beyond t-shirt.

States away from the summits of Beyond these campers were glowing- reliving their hardships and celebrations on the mountain over a plate of pad thai noodles. Looking at the faces around the table I saw the Lord’s extravagant provision. The Lord met each of us in uniquely beautiful ways. It can be recognized by the different moments each individual chooses to share aloud- recalling the thunderous boom of the ice falls, the sunset after days of smoky forest fire skies, or the pride of completing the route. We spent our week on Mt. Albert tangibly trusting the Lord and observed provision and answered prayer. Now we each begin the adventures of fall trusting the Lord will provide extravagantly as we summit mountains in our hometowns.

When we finished our noodles we stood up as a group, and instead of giving pack love and heading back onto the trail, these campers walked out of the restaurant into their daily lives: leading in their hometown club and beginning senior year of high school, fitting all their belongings into their car and moving away to college, and navigating full time work. They were alive and full, taking the sweet moments of Beyond where they went. 

The Lord reminded me that Beyond comes home with each of us. There is no need to dread or fear “goodbye”. Beyond isn’t confined to the mountains, or Princess Louisa Inlet. The moments at Beyond become a part of us and we have the honor of carrying them to our destination of choice. We get to keep saying “hello”.

-Erin Donoghue

A sneak peak into a Beyond backpacking trip

I came to Beyond Malibu with an open mind but a few preconceived notions. My dear wife was a mountain guide up here, a bit over 30 years ago. I had the pleasure of traversing the Long Pearkes route with a group of young men, which included three of my sons — two of them being campers, and one as our guide. Coming into this backpacking trip, I knew we were to be tested physically, mentally, and spiritually in close Christian community.

Day 1 we climbed through dense alder trees on an overgrown logging road. The alders snagged on packs, and I found myself tripping over my feet often. Yet, their roots held the soil on the steep road in a way man-made products could not have done. I made it a game to avoid the pitfalls of the alders climb, and instead, marveled at the fortitude of the men who carved the road and prayed for strength.

Day 2 was a steeper climb into the alpine! On the fringes of the forest we found ripe juicy blueberries, which we stopped to enjoy….this break was a God-given excuse to rest my weary legs. We arrived at the saddle, and behold, the mountain beyond our ridge standing tall and proud in the sunshine. After lunch and an application of sunscreen, we had an extended quiet time in which I contemplated what it means to live in love (1 John 4)….the love that is greater than the faith that could move the mountains (1 Corinthians 13). We continued our hike, playing games and talking to distract ourselves until we reached camp. At camp we watched a threatening storm pass, and were left to enjoy our dinner comfortably as one of our guides shared his life story.

On the morning of day 3, we packed up camp and ate a quick breakfast.  We had snow school while our guides checked out our glacier crossing: setting ropes, allowing us to traverse the snowfield, and descend onto the rocks below. The snowfield was dirty with ash from recent wildfires, and very melted; it made kicking steps a bit tricky with our ice axes. After a butt slide (on belay) we reached the rock flats below and discussed our faith in the rope and compared it to our confidence in Christ (Hebrew 11). We ended our day hiking across a broad bowl into the sunshine at “Kingdom Come” campsite.  It had been a long and difficult day, and some of us had discovered, with the encouragement of the group, our greater strength (Isaiah 46).

It was good that we soaked up the expansive views the night before because the morning of Day 4 was a foggy one. We worked our way down through a tricky, technical climb and across another snowfield, trusting our guides entirely to navigate as it was obscured by fog. We were encouraged with a hot lunch and a Tim-Tam slam. After making the choice to continue hiking to “Beyond Heaven,” we were greeted with breathtaking views as the clouds parted. We formed a line, held hands, and praised God for such a gift.

Day 5, we gradually worked our way along the ridge and began a descent down a giant granite staircase. In the afternoon we reached “Maury’s Mound,” high above the Princess Louisa Inlet, where we set up camp and wrote letters to ourselves (encasing thoughts and feelings from the trip).

We were up early on Day 6 to prepare for the final descent. The rising sun illuminated each peak in the Inlet as the morning progressed. With the few technical sections, and the toughness of downhill on our bodies, it felt just as challenging as the first day. With high spirits we made it down and hopped on the boat waiting to take us back to base camp. Through the week we studied, meditated, and discussed faith, hope, and love. I can solidly take away that the greatest of these is LOVE, which nicely encapsulates the community that is Beyond.

Thanks all for an excellent adventure,

Bill Burgess

Wild and Free

Here I am, back at Beyond, the place I call home. After 3 years of guiding trips up and down these steep mountains, I am overcome with joy each time I see campers get off the boat and step onto the dock for the first time- clean hair, dry cotton clothes, with anxiousness and anticipation in their eyes. It’s a wonderful thing to contrast with Friday afternoons, when campers get back from their trips with dirty hair, sun on their cheeks, and an inexpressible and glorious joy in their hearts. If you’ve seen this before, you know what I’m talking about. “Beautiful,” I tell myself, “They are SO beautiful.” 

I have a vivid memory during my first summer of guiding in 2013 that I will never forget. It was 5:30 on a Saturday morning, when I looked at the friends in my guide class and said, “For the first time in my life, I feel beautiful.” It was a huge milestone for me as a woman and mountain guide. I had spent years comparing myself to others and believing that I would never be good enough, strong enough, or pretty enough- a theme I see in many participants’ lives. 

What is it about Beyond that makes us feel beautiful and free? Why is it that a camper can tell me after her trip that she has never felt more beautiful?! Surely it can’t be the “mountain funk” we obtain throughout a week in the mountains. Rather, it’s when we are stripped emotionally, physically, and spiritually (doesn’t that sound easy!). My mind continues to be blown away as I hear life story after life story from participants from all across the country- stories of broken families, addictions, pain, and sorrow. Like fragile jars of clay, we are all covered in cracks and imperfections, but when we allow Christ to fill us up, He shines through the cracks- and THAT is beautiful.

Guiding at Beyond has continued to remind me that God did not send his Son to die so that we would be hard on ourselves, feeling ugly in our brokenness. No! Christ died so that we could be free! So, whether it’s bathing in the ocean with my loofa and biodegradable soap, letting my big curly hair reach its maximum frizz, or allowing myself to become vulnerable, leading out of weakness and letting God work through my brokenness, I am forever grateful for the simple truth that God has reminded me for 3 summers: We are beautiful and free because of Christ. 

Blaire Tocher

The Mountain Top and the Valley

The mountains of Beyond truly call out to me and the need to answer is strong within me. Logging roads and thick brush, mossy forrest carpets and the exposed rock amphitheaters of peaks and cirques; the wonderlands we venture into each week hold secrets I’ve never found elsewhere. It is more than the physical beauty they hold though, for the mountains have become a safe place for me. It is a place where I know my worth- a place where I have a role and a purpose. It is a secret place where God meets me in quiet stillness with whispers and strong arms, a place where the confusion of my human emotion is set aside and my natural reliance on Him grows to be the only focus. The noise of city life, of authority and responsibility, of expectation and affirmation fades until the only voices I hear are those of companions in worship, voices ringing out in the night over the clouds. 

Yet I cannot remain in the mountains. We are not called to sit atop peaks in simplicity, selfishly soaking in the presence of God we find there. No, there is a city waiting below for stories, for sustenance, for hope. Though there is confusion and sometimes chaos in life at base camp, it is more like home. It is a community, authentic and real in its complications and struggles. It is, to me, a reflection of the messy, messy goodness of life with Christ. Time spent in prayer, hours spent working hard, and nights ending with worship, laughter, and tears. Though I often dream of leaving the valley behind and hiding away forever in God’s wilderness, in my heart I know that God is as present here as He is in the sky, as present in our darkness as He is in our joy. It takes courage to remain in the valley, to remain in our mess rather than run from it. In our mess God is working.  He is moving. He is healing. It requires faith to stay and meet Him here. For now I look out into the mountains, a place I know kids are encountering their Creator, and I hold onto the hope they offer, that I will not always be in the valley but for now it is where I need to stay. 

Aiden Church

Waiting Expectantly

Waiting expectantly does not mean sitting back and watching God answer prayers exactly how I imagine them. To wait expectantly I have learned, is to die to the idea that I know what is best for me and have faith and anticipation for all that God has for me, regardless of what I ask. Waiting expectantly has taught me to loosen my plans for the week, and embrace the unknown with a new found confidence in God’s promises. 

We spend days before the trip reading about our participants, planning spiritual content to best address their group goals, figuring out how far to hike, when the rappel will happen, and which night we will have our “mexi meal.”  When I wait expectantly and turn my palms open to all of the uncertainty of guiding at Beyond, I am comforted by the thought of the thousands of other believers who have been standing exactly in my boots. Standing at the crossroads of self preservation and self abandonment into life to the full. 

“For the Lord himself goes before you and he will be with you, he will never leave you, nor forsake you. Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged.” Please pray that we may all find time in our mornings to wait expectantly and to enter boldly into the fear and adventure of trusting Jesus with every detail and request of our lives, believing that He is always with us and is using all the elements of His creation to have us draw nearer to Him. Even if it makes us wildly uncomfortable. 

To Him be the Glory. Go Beyond.

- Adam Iverson