- Story by Aaron Rittenour

Well, today’s story isn’t exactly a mission story, but it is one that I have shared with many people all over the world—in churches and schools—and I decided it was time to write it down.

I have always had a deep love for the outdoors. From the very young age of seven, my brother and I would wander all over the mountain behind our home. We would even take lunches and make it a full-day exploration. In 2015, this love of the outdoors manifested itself into a strong desire to walk across the United States on a 2,660-mile footpath from Mexico to Canada called the Pacific Crest Trail.

To undertake a goal of walking the total distance in just one season, you must be able to regularly walk 120+ miles every week. With food, water, and all my provisions in my backpack, I was carrying about 27 pounds. Most of the food I consumed was freeze-dried or dehydrated, which helped me keep the weight of my pack to a minimum. Every three to five days, the trail would intersect a road, and I would hitchhike into a town to buy more food to keep me going until the next stop.

About 600 miles into my hike, it became a tradition for me to buy one item from each store that wasn’t freeze-dried or dehydrated—and that item was an orange. I would carry that orange for two or three days down the trail, and when I was craving something fresh, it would be a treat I could enjoy somewhere along the California desert.

One day, I was two days out from town when I started really craving that orange. The desert was hot, and in that section of the trail, the biggest source of shade was a four-foot-tall bush. I stopped along the trail and reached back to grab the orange I had placed in my mesh pocket—but I couldn’t find it.

I took off my backpack to see what had happened and found a hole in the mesh pocket—just about the perfect size for an orange.

At that moment, I was furious.

I have to admit that, with the heat of the California desert, the lack of communication with other humans, and no substantial shade in sight, I lost it. All I wanted was that orange. I had been thinking about it all morning, and now it was gone. I quite literally resorted to blaming God for allowing this “terrible atrocity” to take place.

With nothing I could do, I pulled my backpack onto my shoulders and continued down the trail, letting that loss ruin my entire day.

Two days later, I found myself in another small town buying food for the next stretch of the journey. Standing outside a small local grocery store, a couple of other hikers and I happened to look down the road. We saw another hiker walking toward us—but he looked far more disheveled than a typical long-distance hiker, which was saying something.

When he reached the store, it was clear he was having a rough time. His pants were torn, with remnants of dried blood on them, and his arms were badly scraped up.

I asked him, “What in the world happened to you?”

He replied, “Well, three nights ago there was a pretty terrible windstorm in the desert.” I remembered the storm.

He continued, “While I was trying to set up my tent, the wind caught it and sent it flying into a canyon. Without a tent, I spent the night in my sleeping bag in the sand. The next morning, I was exhausted—I hadn’t slept well at all with the sand blowing everywhere. While hiking, I got distracted, slipped, and fell down an embankment… hence the blood and torn pants.”

Then he said, “I was done. Done with the desert. Done with the Pacific Crest Trail. I had made up my mind that when I got to town, I was going to hitchhike to the nearest airport and go home.”

But then his story took a turn.

“As I was walking down the trail,” he said, “I came around a bend—and right there, in the middle of the desert, was a perfectly good orange, just lying in the trail.”

He couldn’t believe his eyes. He thought he was hallucinating. But when he picked it up—sure enough—it was real.

“That orange completely made my day,” he said. “It convinced me to keep going.”

There’s a saying on long-distance trails that people often use: “The trail always provides.” Many believe that this sense of provision comes from nature, or the universe, or something like that.

The man looked up, chuckled, and said, “Maybe God put the orange there.”

I never told him that it was my orange.

But I will say this—I was ashamed.

I was ashamed of the way I had acted. Ashamed that I had blamed God over something so small.

Because in that moment, standing outside that little grocery store, I realized something: God knew that man needed my orange far more than I did. It not only encouraged him, but it also made him stop and consider God’s existence and His love in his own life.

That season of my life was a time of wandering and searching. This experience was just one of many where God was teaching me, guiding me—and in some cases, even saving my life. Even in that wandering, I could see that God was reaching out to me.

Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.”

This verse doesn’t say that all things will be good—but that all things work together for good.

Throughout our lives, many difficult and confusing things will happen. Those who are older can often look back and see why certain trials came. Sometimes you will understand why challenges entered your life—and other times, you may not know until we meet our Savior.

But one thing is certain: God is in control, and He is working on your behalf through every circumstance.

So the next time trials come into your life, remember the orange story—and trust that He’s got you.