i think it's funny how plans go. you decide on something intently and then later, laugh at yourself, sometimes through tears, that life has brought you different mountains to climb.
there's a phrase out there, choose the mountains you want to climb carefully. and while i agree that there are lots of mountains we can choose, some mountains are put right in front of us with no way around them.
mountains chosen for you. mountains with no discernible path. mountains meant to be climbed, not walked around.
this is where we find ourselves. i told you guys a while ago, i felt like this was coming. we had a wonderful season of rest. it was characterized by a lot of gratefulness and a lot of rest. time together. redemption of time lost. binding up of wounds, wincing at the pain of the bandage but marveling at the gashes healing, one by one.
and now he is doing something new.
i knew where we were going.
is this what issac felt like going up on the mountain with his dad? something is going to happen and it will be difficult, but what will it be? i wasn't sure, only that i was with my father and that he is trustworthy and good.
and then it hit us. all at once. all the everything. the let's-get-that-husband-a-promotion-he-never-asked-for-with-the-crazy-hours-he-never-wanted-sell-our-house-in-a-day-move-to-the-suburbs-help-plant-a-church-write-a-book-have-a-baby-at-the-same-time-while-moving-and-managing-three-children kind of crazy.
it makes complete sense. (sarcasm oozing).
i find 2 things compelling:
1)in God's kindness he let us know it was about to get nuts. why does he even care about us in this way?
2)in that same kindness, he has let the storm completely overwhelm us.
there is no way to get to where we need to be but to climb a giant mountain, in a storm, and only see the few inches in front of us. his mercy is full here, on this arduous climb.
each step, has been planned. and He has always made a way for weary travelers, hasn't he? i know i won't even climb this whole mountain or even a small part of it, there will be a lot of him carrying me. and not in the cheesy footprints in the sand kind of way, but in the blood falling from his brow for me kind of way.
in light of his goodness on the cross for me thousands of years ago, i know i can trust in his goodness now. he laid down his life for me in the greatest act of generosity, trustworthy-ness, and kindness in all of history, so he'll do this too. he carried the cross up the hill and now he'll carry me up this mountain. and when i look into his face, i remember who i am. because without the storms, i had forgotten.
when i am focused on his face, fears in the background that taunted me blur. i don't see the future, i see right now. his eyes. i feel, right now, his hands-the bloodstained ones, under my back. i hear him hushing me with his words,
not you, me.
if ever it was said that there are situations which make us feel small, it is now. there's no question of who is doing the work on this mountain.