Making Muscles Out Of Mud

“A lot of people have gone further than they thought they could

because someone else thought they could.”

-Zig Ziglar

It was getting dark as the sun was setting in a beautiful valley that had just been lit up with colors only God Himself could paint. There were wild horses running and fighting in the desert lands of Adobe Valley, California. I had just been photographing reflections of the sky on the water and the birds flying in for the night when I realized that I had let myself get distracted by the beauty. I found myself alone in the middle of a vast marsh with the evening coyote calls reminding me that I had better get back to dry land and camp very soon.

I was with an awesome photography workshop called “The Art of Seeing”. A whole group of us went out into the valley to learn photography skills on sight with the beautiful wild mustangs that have survived there for hundreds of years. I cannot say enough about how I enjoyed this experience, but being my own independent self got me in a little situation that I had to figure out how to get out of.

At some point, the group split into the ones who wanted to move out further where the horses were moving, and the other group who was ready to go back to camp. I was indecisive about which group to follow, then saw the ducks splashing in the golden sunlight and my emotions just took over. My breath was taken away by the beauty of it all and my finger was clicking my camera nonstop.

Then the sun went behind the mountain. I tried not to panic too much until I heard the coyotes and saw that I was surrounded by the spring fed marsh. I knew there was dry land to my North and I started jumping that direction from one grass island to the next, working my way through with my headlamp on. Then I started to wear out and fell in the mud. With my muck boots filled with water, I got to the next island and realized that I am neither tall enough or strong enough to keep jumping from one little island to the other since they were getting further and further apart.

Then, I started to panic…and pray. I could still see the last group out there and I was relieved that I had not been left behind.

Thankfully, our wonderful leader, Ken Lee, saw me out there and called to help direct me out of my dilemma. He was very encouraging and told me that the water was not as deep as I had thought, and that if I could just keep walking toward his flashlight, the dry land was not that far. So I kept going. A few minutes later, he called again to make sure I was ok.

By the time I got to where he was, I was out of breath, very exhausted, and… very apologetic. I had gotten myself into my own mess by not paying attention to how fast the sun was setting and by allowing myself to get so distracted by the beauty of the colors on the mountains.

That was a life changing moment.

As I walked though all that dark water with my boots filled with muck, I thought of how proud my husband would be of me for trudging through that heavy mud only a few miles from where he went to Marine Corps Boot Camp Training. I thought about how thankful I was to be there and that I would get out of there BEFORE the coyotes detected my vulnerability. I thought about how God did not bring me here just to be eaten by coyotes or mountain lions, or be bitten by a snake, and I thought how I might be approaching an age that might not appropriate for this kind of challenge.

But I did better than I thought I would. I did something I never thought I could do. And if I had not been there in that moment, I would never have known how brave or strong I can be when I need to be.

Now that I can look back and ponder it all, I know that I am a stronger person than I was before that night in the marsh. God used the mud in that marsh to build up my faith and determination muscles. I would not trade that for a month of luxury on a pristine beach in Hawaii.

Thank you for visiting my website to read my stories. Please stay a while and check out my paintings while you are here.

“Art is the language that everyone can understand.”

Karen Chatham

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