There but for the grace of God...

Sometimes you have to be a bit careful when you share some of your experiences on a medium like this one because they can take on a life of their own and you never know who may ultimately see them.  So let me begin this particular article by saying that I mean no ill will nor slander nor judgment towards those who may be alluded to in this post and I will do my best to protect their identities. If one of those alluded to in this article happen to read this, please forgive any apparent judgmental tones.  I really do not mean it. However, it is often through everyday life situations that we get some of our greatest lessons and this is a lesson that just should not go unnoticed.

Recently, I was required as part of my secular job to host some out of town business guests.  In general, that means all day meetings and at the very least a fairly nice business dinner at a local establishment of exquisite fine dining.  Now to be sure, I am not the most cultured person in the world.  Give me a Milo’s hamburger or a Jim N Nick’s slab of ribs and I am good to go (note: if you are unfamiliar with either of these establishments, a trip to the southeast – Alabama in particular – is definitely in order).  On the other hand, who wouldn’t enjoy a nice night of cultured cuisine?  In these circumstances, therefore, I almost always rely on the advice of a self-proclaimed “food snob” co-worker of mine to make the appropriate suggestions and to steer us away from the more undesirable night-life activities (Did you know that certain restaurants around town and their associated bars were known on certain nights to be prowling grounds for “cougar” activity?).  As usual, my associate’s selection was a good one and we all made our plans to meet up at the establishment at the appointed time.

A funny thing happened on my way to dinner… well, perhaps “funny” is not the right word.  I would think the better word would be providential or perhaps serendipitous. And honestly, it wasn’t just one thing… it was two…

First of all, I had a quick errand to run at The Lovelady Center (www.loveladycenter.org).  It was no big deal; I had to turn in some paperwork associated with a class I had recently taught there.  As I was waiting on one of the workers there to take care of my errand, two small boys approached, each carrying a small book in their hand.  One of them fearlessly came up and said, “Are you today’s reading buddy?”  Now I am not exactly sure what a reading buddy is, but I think I can figure out (a) what a reading buddy does, and (b) that clearly I am NOT this young man’s reading buddy.  So I answered appropriately.  He then shamelessly looked into my eyes and said “would you read me this book anyway?”   Oh Snap.  I took a quick look at my watch and said, “Sure, why not”.  So the three of us took a seat and read the story of how Popeye saved Wimpy and Swea’pea from a raging storm by, of course, eating his spinach.   I sighed.  That felt cathartic. Then the other young man handed me his book and said “read mine now.”  His book was not nearly as short as the Popeye adventure.  Another quick look at my watch suggested that reading this book would probably put my schedule at risk.  Almost I said no, then I thought about it.  Honestly, which has more eternal value – taking 10 minutes to read a book to this young boy or going to a high-priced dinner where I will be the only one not partaking in copious amounts of adult beverages?  The decision was clear. I could be a few minutes late to dinner, so I took the book from his hands and began reading.  Fortunately for my schedule, no sooner had I starting reading this second book than an entire entourage of kids came clambering down the hall accompanied by someone I could only presume to be the real reading buddy for the evening.  The young lad snatched the book from my hand in mid-sentence and eagerly took off to join his pals.  OK.  On to dinner.

I left The Lovelady Center and headed back downtown for dinner.  I had done a good thing and my schedule had not been compromised.  Indeed, I was still reasonably early for dinner, but there was no time for dilly-dallying around.  As I was drawing close to the area of the restaurant, however, I noticed a homeless man sitting on the side of the road.  He appeared to be in his early-mid 40s – my age or slightly younger - was dirty, looked cold, was crying, and was holding tightly to, of all things, a skateboard.  I thought this was a strange site for many obvious reasons, none the least of which was why a homeless man of that age would have a skateboard.   We were at an intersection and being still the tail end of rush hour there was a long line of cars waiting for the light to change.  At that moment, however, the little voice within me that I have long since learned to be the prompting of the Holy Spirit said to me “I want you to go talk to him – and perhaps give him some money.”  Oh Snap. Again.  Don’t take this the wrong way, but sometimes I really dread hearing that voice.  Really, my schedule does not have time for this.  I pulled over into a parking lot at the corner grocery store, got out of my car, and checked my wallet.  I had a $5 bill and a $20 bill.  Normally in these situations I would give a dollar or maybe two to a homeless person, so I took a step toward the grocery store to go inside and get change.  Then the voice said… “no, give him five dollars.”  Oh snap… a third time.  Really, do you have any idea what he is going to do with the money?  Oh yeah, of course you do, I forget who I am talking to.  So I went to talk to the homeless, crying, skateboarder.  As I talked to him, the long line of commuters continued to stream past, many of them wondering, I am sure, why I was taking the time to talk to him.

As it turned out, the man had a really cool name – Freedom.  I am sure that was not his real name, but I have learned that in street culture, protecting your identity is critical.  I didn’t expect to get his real name, but honestly, Freedom is such a cool name that who cares, right?  So I talked with Freedom a few minutes about Jesus, found out he really was homeless, found out he was crying because some street kids were trying to steal his skateboard (odd that a man of his age would cry about that), and also found out he wasn’t hungry.  In fact, he had a fairly substantial meal in a bag sitting on the ground beside him - although I have no idea what was in the bag to eat... I could only imagine.  We continued to talk a few more minutes about Jesus and then I handed him the $5 bill.  He was overwhelmed and began to cry again.  At that moment, my phone rang and I noticed the call was from someone at The Lovelady Center.  I encouraged Freedom to go find a shelter because it was going to get cold and then departed with Freedom spouting endless gratitude as I walked away, answering my cell.

I talked on the phone for a few minutes outside the front of the grocery store, thinking my schedule was really starting to get tight. As I hung up the phone, I looked up to find a smiling woman standing in front of me holding a small wad of money. She looked at me and said, “I saw what you did.”   She then proceeded to hand me the money, tell me she was too afraid to go speak to the man, and asked if I would take him the money.  Oh snap… again.  You just never know who is watching you or what impact your actions will have on others.

Time was pressing but back I went around the corner to speak to Freedom.  Again, he was overwhelmed by the generosity.  We talked a few more minutes about Jesus and then Freedom proceeded to explain to me the importance of his skateboard.  He was an out of work painter, had literally lost everything he had, and the skateboard was quite frankly the only thing in the world he had left from his former life.  Do I need to say it… Oh snap.  It was then I had that feeling of divine blessing and recounted that famous saying by the 16^th evangelist and theologian, John Bradford – there but for the grace of God, go I.

By that time it was definitely time to meet my work acquaintances for dinner.  Expectations were not too low as we sat at dinner enjoying a very exquisite meal.  I couldn’t help thinking, however, about the two young boys at the Lovelady Center whose lives were tangled up in the difficulties of their mothers’ predicaments. Those boys would not even be able to comprehend the likes of the dinner I was eating. Likewise, I couldn’t help thinking about Freedom.  While I was enjoying the warmth and tastes of dinner, he was out in the cold eating I knew not what – nor could imagine.

At that time, the conversation at dinner turned surreal.  While enjoying a borderline hedonistic meal – and frankly with the alcohol some of my acquaintances were consuming it might be over the hedonism border – the conversation turned to the types of restaurants they would, or would not, patronize.  Keeping in mind I am not the most cultured person, I would find an evening at The Olive Garden or Red Lobster or Chili’s to be a fairly decent night out.  These more finely cultured people, however, made it perfectly clear that they would never grace the doors of an Olive Garden or Red Lobster or Chili’s or any such “chain” restaurants.   At that point, I realized that “food snob” was more than just a fun way of describing their knowledge of fine dining.  They really were discriminating in their tastes.  Thus came the final and most humbling “Oh Snap” of the evening.  While just a block away Freedom was enjoying – whatever it was he was eating – and was happy that he actually had food to eat – and whose greatest concern was not loosing his one and only possession in the world – my eating companions were professing their disgust for establishments that Freedom – and probably the two boys at the Lovelady Center – would have considered a meal fit for a king.  I thought to myself “Lord, please never allow me to take your blessings in my life for granted.”

It was also at that time that God brought to mind a sermon I had just finished listening to by Mark Driscol of Mars Hill Church from the book of Esther.  In his sermon, he pointed out the arrogance of Haman and how Esther and Xerxes threw him a banquet fit for a king just moments before his demise.  Haman’s hubris was his downfall.  The similarities did not go unnoticed as I realized that even I was vain and arrogant like Haman at many times.  God had appointed those two experiences in my life to remind me of my blessings… and to remind me that “there but the grace of God, go I.”  However, I also realized that the lesson God gave me was in itself a gift of grace.  I looked at my dinner companions enjoying their fine meal, adult beverages, speaking proudly of their discriminating tastes and I thought to myself how John Bradford’s saying works on both sides of the equation.  They have no idea how fragile their blessings really are… and so again I quietly said to myself “there but for the grace of God, go I.”  Lord, let me never forget your blessings in my life.

Tribute to Patty

No. It is not our anniversary.  It is not her birthday (although my son’s birthday is coming up in a few weeks). It is not a special occasion of any kind that I am aware of.  I am not in the doghouse (at least to my knowledge).  And there is nothing that I want in return.

For no other reason other than the fact that God has blessed me with having her in my life, I just want to take the time to honor my wife, Patty.  I could bring her flowers, but flowers will fade.  I could bring her candy, but once the joy of chocolate has passed through the lips, it is gone forever – well, unless you count the fact that the calories stick around a lot longer than you want.  I could send her a card, but that is just a private praise between me and her.  Beside why let someone else pen the words that I need to say myself.  Instead, I want to do something a bit more public and permanent because she deserves it.  And so I want to shout from the symbolic mountaintop of this blog that “I LOVE MY WIFE!”

Some of you other husbands out there may argue otherwise, but I happen to believe that I have the best wife in the world.  Honestly, I do not deserve her.  There is no other person in the whole world that would love me the way she does – or should I rather say that there is no other person in the whole world that would PUT UP with me the way she does.

Just the other night, when I was so tired that I could no longer stay awake, my beautiful bride stayed up to wait for my clothes to finish drying so that she could hang them up – just so I would have clothes to wear to work today.  Now I am no chauvinist.  I realize that it is NOT my wife’s responsibility to do my laundry and hopefully she knows that I can and would do my own laundry.  However, she loves me enough that she is willing to humble herself and serve me by hanging up my clothes while I sleep.  I never want to take that for granted.  Regrettably I do sometimes, but she still gives even if I don't acknowledge it.

And when it comes to ministry, there is no greater partner to have in ministry than to have her.  I have never presumed that God’s calling on my life applied to her and I have never presumed that she needed to be involved in any particular ministry in which I was involved.   If she determined today that she could not be involved in “our” ministry any longer because God wanted her to do something different (such as start a new ministry not directly associated with mine), I would not complain because she knows that she must follow God’s leading in her own life above all else - including me... I get that and respect it.  But, at least thus far, God has blessed me with a partner that has a similar vision and calling to myself and has as much of a servants heart as is humanly possible.  It never seems to fail that whenever God places a particular vision on my heart for ministry, that she is right there cheering me on, helping me in whatever way she can, and even taking a leadership role in making things happen. What’s more, she does it all without seeking glory for herself.  I thank God every day that he has given her to me.

That is not to say she is not a “yes-man” – or as the case may be a “yes-woman”.  We disagree about things from time to time and that is how it should be.  It is because of her that I have confidence in the decisions that are made because we can talk through them from two different perspectives.  We still make mistakes, but without her as a sounding board and a voice of reason, I know that I would be making many more mistakes than I do.

As if all of that were not enough, my wife is literally my best friend.  Oh sure, I have other friends – and I love spending time with them.  However, there is no one in the world I would rather spend my time with than Patty.  We may not always have the same interests – particularly when it comes to TV shows – and we each have time that we spend away doing things with others; but we always genuinely desire to be together and to “do” together.

Admittedly, this has not always been the case.   It has taken a lot of work and spiritual maturing on both of our parts to get to this point.   When we first got married, I was a selfish, emotionally immature, shallow, man-child that had no idea what it meant to truly love someone with a godly love.  When we first got married, Patty was an idealistic, spiritually immature, new believer with extremely high expectations.  Sound familiar?  The results were devastating.  We both had to learn the hard way what God really expects from us in our marriages.

For me, I had to learn to love my wife the way Christ loves the church.  I had to learn to be selfless and give unconditionally to my wife regardless of whether or not she reciprocated.   I could not truly love her because I did not trust her to love me back.  If I gave to her unconditionally, that would make me a door-mat.  She would walk all over me and take advantage of me like so many others that I thought were my friends had done in the past.  It wasn’t until I realized that Jesus Christ loved me with a truly unconditional love and that I was in turn supposed to act towards her in the same manner that I began to understand what my love for her was supposed to look like in everyday life.  Jesus loved me when I was a sinner.  Jesus loved me when I was his enemy.  But even after I gave my life to Jesus, he continues to love me unconditionally despite the fact that I often do not reciprocate that love.  No matter how many times I fail him, he still loves me.  No matter how unfaithful I may be to him, he remains faithful.  He is always doing that which is in my best interest – even if I do not understand it or agree with it.  Jesus gave his live for me and he continues to look after me every day.  He would never consider himself a door-mat because he knows that as he remains faithful to me, I grow closer to him and appreciate and love him all the more for it.  This is how I have learned to love my wife. Even if she did take advantage of me, I would still love her unconditionally.  It was a major leap of faith on my part, and the results have been overwhelming.  Instead of taking advantage of me, she has blossomed – spiritually and otherwise.  And so I have no trouble bragging about how wonderful a wife she truly is.

Bottom line is that I just wanted to take a moment and give tribute to a pretty wonderful lady.  I love you, sweetie.  Happy...not anniversary... not birthday...  Happy Just Today.

HASHTAG-DEBATE

Last night’s presidential debate (Oct 16, 2012) between Mitt Romney and Barak Obama was by far one of the most entertaining political debates I have ever seen.  The only thing that would have made it more entertaining would have been if the two had actually started throwing down on each other.  But as entertaining as it was, the real entertainment didn’t come from the television, but from the “twitter-sphere”.   Following the debate on Twitter had to have been the best television experience of the evening.  When Gov. Romney talked about “binders full of women” my computer went into absolute meltdown.  Likewise, when the president dissed the “gang-bangers” my twitter timeline absolutely exploded.  And if the tweets about Candy are any indication, the late night comedians are going to have just as much of a blast in their parodies of her as they will with R and O.  As one tweeter put it –“This debate wouldn’t be as fun without Twitter.”

In watching the debate and following the twitter feeds, though, I became acutely aware of a number of facts that we as Christians – and perhaps even non-Christians as well - can learn from this presidential debate.  I thought I might share a few of them.

  

1. We have lost our focus.

I wish I could have been able to filter the tweet of those who would call themselves Christian from those who claim no faith.  However, even if I could have, I don’t think the results would have been that different.  We place so much faith in our economy, our pensions, and our government and so little faith in our God. Colossians 3:1-3 says “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” (ESV)   That is not to say that the economy and jobs and such are not important.  Indeed they are.  However, when we tweet that we are “standing on my couch yelling at the TV” as so many people tweeted during the debate, then we have clearly lost our focus.  Let’s make sure we have placed our faith in the right things.

2. Idolatry is alive and well in the 21st Century.

Between the energy independence discussion and Mitt Romney’s apparent lack of concern for the dead birds, the twitter-sphere erupted with earth-worshippers going nuts.  It never ceases to amaze me how the same people who rant and rave about animal rights and saving the planet regardless to the cost of society are the same people who give no thought whatsoever to killing an unborn human baby.  This is nothing more than unadulterated idolatry.  It reminds me of a recent episode of the TV show “BONES”.  Every week Bones emotionlessly investigates heinous murders using science and reason.  Rarely if ever is she moved by the tragic loss of life so long as her Spock-like brain can solve the mystery.  However, on a recent episode she absolutely loses it because a perp kills a tiger.  Her indignation is so great that Booth has to physically restrain her from doing harm to the bad guy.  Really, Bones?  It was a beautiful animal but how about some emotion for the people who died.  Sure, it is just a TV show, but TV reflects culture and our culture has clearly become idolatrous towards nature – at the detriment to those who have been created in the image of the one who created all nature.  Romans 1:25 says they “worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator” (ESV) – so true indeed.  This is God’s planet and he has given it to us to steward – not worship.  Our command from the garden was to worship God and subdue the planet, but we instead attempt to subdue God and worship the planet.  Stewardship vs. Worship.  There is a difference.

3. The truth is as elusive as ever.

The biggest buzzword on Twitter during the debate was “fact-check”.  Everybody thinks their candidate was telling the truth and the other candidate was lying.  Everybody has some proof that they are right and the other side is wrong.  Who knows where the real truth lies?  All politics is spin and lies.  Again, that same episode of Bones comes to mind.  In the episode, Bones decides she would make a good presidential candidate.  All throughout the show, she made various claims about what she was going to do when she was elected president.  It was so bad, that her partner Booth had to remind her that the president is not a dictator that can do anything he/she wants.  At one point, some of her “promises” were challenged, to which she responded that in order to get elected, one must appeal to a broad range of voters, thereby necessitating the successful candidate to engage in lying to win their votes.  Ouch, so true in American politics.  It is no wonder that both sides were tweeting about the liar on the other side of the stage. Truth does not come from politics.  Truth comes from abiding (reading, living, and obeying) the Word of God.  In John 8:31-32, Jesus said “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”  Here is the truth we really need to be concerned about… we really can’t trust anyone but God.

4. The debates really don't matter in the grand scheme of things.

If you believed some of the tweets last night, the outcome of the election is set in stone as a result of the debate.  In fact, there’s no reason to even have the election, because the debate settled everything.  The problem is tweeters from BOTH camps were saying this.   This may be a bit hard for us to swallow, but last nights’ debates will not change the outcome of the presidential election.  Was it entertaining?  Sure.  Was it informative?  Ehhh… that’s debatable (pun intended).  Will it be a determining factor for some voters?  Possibly.  In the end, however, the winner of the presidential election will not be determined by the debates.  In fact [WARNING: SHOCK FACTOR IMMINENT], the outcome of the presidential election will not be decided by you, me, or any other voter.  In Romans 13:1, Paul says that “there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God.” (ESV)  In other words, the outcome of the election is in the hands of God, not in the hands of the voters.  WAIT – don’t shoot me.  I am not saying we shouldn’t vote.  I am not saying we shouldn’t strive to influence our society and culture through all legal mean – including the political system.  We absolutely vote our conscious.  And you should be as involved in the political process as your conscious demands.  However, we cannot forget that God is Sovereign and that he has EVERYTHING in control – even the outcome of the election.  So study the issues and the candidates, pray about it, and then vote the way you feel God wants you to vote.  Then, whatever the outcome, trust Him that He’s got it.

The bottom line I got out of all the tweets from last night is that we clearly need a greater faith in God.  Trust God, not Romney or Obama (or Clinton, or Bush, or Regan or whoever you think is the best president of the last generation or so).  Only through our faith in God can we find true peace and contentment - regardless of the state of the economy or otherwise.  Oh, and if you don’t have Twitter, then you probably have no idea what I have been talking about and you missed a really good show last night…on Twitter, that is, not on TV.

Midnight Adventures in a Mid-October Storm

I awake to the sound of not-so-distant thunder… then roll over to go back to sleep.

Another clap, much closer, and much louder…

The Beautiful One never even flinches.

Surely, the power cannot - will not - last…ah, there it goes. 

The light from my bedside clock now sleeps but I am awake.

My CPAP is silent. No CPAP means no sleep.

I roll over. The Beautiful One still slumbers.

THE DOG!  Sasha is outside and will want to come in.

Sasha fears lightning as bad as any 5 year old child.

I stumble out of bed in the darkness and wonder about the time. 

No power. No clock. 

I make my way through the obstacle course that is the bedroom.

As I open the bedroom door another close strike rattles the walls. 

The Beautiful One sleeps on.

Sasha will be having a conniption for sure.

As I pass the bookshelf I reach to see if my emergency flashlight is still on the shelf.

It is.

Turning it on, I make my way to the back door.

Sasha is there, eager to come in. 

She is wet – one shake later so am I.

As Sasha and I head down the stairs to her crate in the basement, I notice the streetlight outside illuminating the front yard.  Odd.

As Sasha and I enter to garage, the light from the garage door illumitates the basement.  Even odder.  Maybe the power is back on.

Sasha obediently enters her crate and I head back to bed.

Yep.  The streetlight is definitely shining bright outside.

In the bedroom, though, my bedside clock and my CPAP machine are both still asleep.

So is The Beautiful One.

I lay down but I am uneasy.

How can this be?  Lights outside. Lights in the basement.  No lights here?

The lightning must have thrown a breaker.  A much closer hit than I originally thought.

I get up again.  The Beautiful One sleeps on.

This time as I pass through the living room, I turn on the lights. 

They work.  Must be just my bedroom.  Gotta be a breaker.

Downstairs again.  I find the breaker box.  Yes, there it is. 

The red indicator. A quick flip. Off. On. Indicator gone.

Back to the bedroom.

The soft blue glow from my bedside clock tells me is is 1:09AM.

The low purr of my CPAP tells me all is back to normal… or is it?

I see the Thin Mint under the bed. I don’t like the cat in the bedroom at night, so I run her out.

I climb back into bed, but unlike The Beautiful One, sleep evades me.

Something is not right.  I know not what it is. Why can I not sleep?

The garage door light!  Why was it on?

Why would a light be on that only works when the garage door has been activated?

Could it be?  Is someone in the house?

Surely not.  There’s no way.  The car is in the garage, so how would it have been activated?

My truck is outside and probably not locked.

The storm outside is bad.  They could be looking for shelter.

What would I do?  Shoot them?  No my gun is locked away.

Beat them?  With what, my charm and good looks?

Still, I must do something...  call 911?

Not yet, not until I am sure.  Maybe I am over-reacting.

In the storm, with my ears full of rain, thunder, and the ever present drum of CPAP, is it possible for the garage door to have opened and I did not hear it?

I am certain of it now.  Someone is in the house.  They must be.

Once again I arise.  The Beautiful One does not.  Better for her not to know.

The living room light comes on. 

I head to the stairs. Thin Mint weaves in and out of my legs. How annoying.

The stairwell light comes on. I head down the stairs. Thin Mint follows.

The basement light comes on.  I open the basement door.

Hi Sasha.  Anyone here?  Her look says “No, why are you bothering me?”

Quickly I survey the garage.

No one here that I can see.  No one in the car.  Had to be sure.

The storage room (which used to be The Man Cave but not anymore - sad).

Nope.  No one there either.  A sigh of relief.

Thin Mint is waiting at the door back into the main part of the house.

I head back upstairs. Thin Mint stays. She has found a bug.

Back to bed. The Beautiful One is still oblivious to all.

Why can I not sleep?  Could I have missed something?

Maybe when I came upstairs the first time, The Elusive Intruder slipped into the house from the basement.

As soon as I go to sleep, he will come slit our throats.

Lord, keep us safe.

Should I get up and look again?

Lord, keep us safe.

I should get up and look again.

Lord, keep us safe.  

Get up and look again, stupid.

I get up. The Beautiful One never stirs.

Living room light on.

Thin Mint is there waiting.

Dining room light on.  Nothing in the kitchen or dining room.

College Boy #1 bedroom light on.  Nothing. Off again.

College Boy #2 bedroom light on. Nothing. Off again.

Bathroom light on and then off again. 

Did I really think The Elusive Intruder would be taking a potty break?  I guess I had to be sure.

Dining room light off.  Thin Mint stares, wondering what I am doing.

Stairwell light on.

Downstairs den light on.  Nothing.  Off again.

Deep sigh.  There’s nowhere left to hide.  

I was so sure, but I am glad to be wrong.

Maybe I can sleep now.

Who am I kidding? I am more awake now than ever.

No more rain.  Let’s check the weather anyway.

With a point and click of the remote, the TV comes alive to the sound of a paparazzi show.

Hmmm. Tom Cruise is leaving the Church of Scientology?  That’s interesting.

Russell Crowe is breaking up with his wife of 9 years. How sad.

Who cares!  Find the Weather Channel.

Oh wait. I don’t need the Weather Channel. I have an app for that.

Looks like more rain is coming, but the second wave does not look as bad.

On TV, there is an infomercial about pay as you go cell phone service.  PLEASE.

Maybe this adventure has reached its end.  TV off.

The Beautiful One is still sound asleep and yet I cannot.

One last time to get up.

Sigh.  The rain has returned. 2:38AM.

It has been an hour and a half.  

I am comfortable now that The Elusive Intruder was a figment of my imagination.

So glad The Beautiful One can sleep.  One of us should.

Climbing (Down) The Mountain

Let’s be honest.  Things are going good for you, aren’t they?  Right now you are on top of your game, sitting on the mountain peak.  Everything is going your way.  Life couldn’t get any better, right?  I really hope that is where you are right now, but honestly not all of us can say that.  For me, I think I am emerging from the valley headed for that place, but I still have a long road in front of me.

I am trying to remember when I was last on the mountain top – I mean a REAL mountain top.  Sure there have been ups and downs here and there.  There have been reasonably good times (mini-mountain tops you might say), but some of the valleys have been pretty dark.  The last time I can really, really say I was way up there… well, it’s been a while now.  For a short while, it was dark enough that I couldn’t even see what was right in front of me.  It was truly a Valley of the Shadow of Death.  I thought I would never emerge from that place, but God was faithful as he always is and brought me through to the other side. The words of the Psalmist are so true: "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death (or the valley of deep darkness) I will fear no evil for you are with me" (ESV).  Since emerging from that dark place there have been foothills, mini-peaks, and small valleys in my life; but nothing like the Valley of the Shadow of Death…but also nothing like the absolute pinnacle of the mountain either.  I remember...

It’s so nice on the mountain top.  The view is spectacular.  The air is clean.  You just want to sit back and bask in the majesty of it all.  Too bad you can’t stay there.  Sure, all of us want to build our house on Mount Olympus and glory in our accomplishments, but is that truly realistic?  Imagine what it would be like to stay on the mountain top forever.   The top of the mountain is a very lonely place.  The truth is, most people are in the valley most of the time.  Plus, after a while, that awesome, majestic view just becomes a bunch of rocks and snow peaking through the tops of the clouds. Where is the green?  Where is the warmth? There are no flowers and no trees and probably no other life of any kind.  And to put it all in perspective, it gets pretty cold on top of the mountain.  The mountain top is a GREAT place to visit, but a pretty lousy place to live.

Let’s face it.  You can’t stay here.  After all, why did you climb the mountain in the first place?  Were you looking for a sense of accomplishment?  Mission Accomplished: time to move on.  Were you trying to find out what was on the other side?  Well, you may have reached the pinnacle, but you still don’t know what is on the other side if you stay here.  If you take a good look around, you will probably notice as well that this mountain top is not the end of the world.  There are other peaks out there waiting for you to find and discover them. The only way for you to do that is to leave this place and begin a new journey. 

So here is what I say.  Enjoy the moment.  Spend a little time in repose.  And while you are there, be sure to give out a really good shout (there is nothing like shouting from the mountain top, right?). However, don’t stay there long.  YOU MUST MOVE ON.  Here’s the rub, though.  To leave, there’s only one way you can go.  You have to go back down into the valley, and there’s only two ways you can get there.  You can climb down or you can fall down.  Personally, climbing down seems much less painful than falling down, but either way you are going to end up back at the bottom.  Hopefully, it will not be a Valley of the Shadow of Death.  Fortunately, not every valley is that dark and dangerous.  Instead, let’s hope it will be a green, lush valley teeming with life and beauty.  Unfortunately, you won’t know until you get there.  Don’t let the fear of the unknown stop you.

Right now I really believe I am climbing out of the valley towards another peak.  I’ve been in the valley a very long time.  Some of the time it has been very dark and dangerous, but honestly there have been parts of this valley that were beautiful and lush and green.  I can honestly say I am thankful for both. 

As for the lush and green part of my valley, I could have stayed there for quite a while with only minimal complaints. However, just like you can’t stay on the mountain top, you can’t stay in the valley either – even if it is a green valley.  You have to keep moving and that means starting the slow, difficult climb up the next mountain.  I am facing a pretty big mountain in my life right now, but I know it is time to move on and thus it is a mountain that needs to be climbed.  I know there will be an awesome peak at the top. It will be hard work getting there, but the memories of the last mountain peak will keep me going.  I cannot even fathom the joy that is waiting at the pinnacle. Plus, I am really curious what’s on the other side… onward and upward! (and then back down again)