I’m finding out that God works in the shadows between certainty and doubt. I have been able to perform throughout these trips surprisingly well. A few blisters, sore feet, and tired muscles here and there, but on the whole I feel good. Although I would like to attribute this resilience to a body that borders on physical perfection, I’m afraid this is simply not the case. :) I can’t help but think of how much all the prayers you have said on my behalf have reached their destination of the Father. And I can’t help but wonder how much He has had mercy on me because of them. Yesterday was a prime example. Having 13 guys carrying a litter (a first aid basket for carrying a patient) down a steep mountain trail only by head lamp, not only begs for additional injuries, but it almost demands it. Yet the only lasting affects were worn feet/arms and tired eyes. I’m not saying this for sympathy, awe factor, or to instill fear. I’m saying this as a testament to God… as a reminder to myself that He indeed holds me and every one of His children in His hand. I realize that this may sound cliché, but just like faith, it is statements like these that become real only when you place your life on them. Peter in the storm, walking on the water, comes to mind.
I have begun to see a different side of Beyond trips. Dare I say it; I have begun to be disenchanted by them. The last two weeks I have spent in the mountains were amazing weather wise. I learned a new route (Mt Albert) which is Beyond's tallest peak. On summit day we had a 360 degree view of every mountain as far as the eye could see. Literally a picture perfect summit. But as I sat there, the views did very little for me. The honeymoon was over, I had developed a higher tolerance, that well had been tapped dry. I wondered what the deal was. Why was God silent? Why wasn’t he meeting me in the same way he had before? I still don’t know why. For whatever reason I didn’t “feel” the holy awe. I suppose it is just like the Bible story where God was not in the earth quake or the fire on the mountain, but rather He was in the quiet wind. And so I have begun to look for him elsewhere. I have a sneaky suspicion that I will find him not so much in the views of his earthly creation but rather in his humanly creation. Now I don’t mean this in a weird pantheistic way. But I’m learning to see the peak of creation as being in the participants of the trips rather than in slabs of granite. This is far from a simple task, especially when they decide that the best pace to adopt is that of an elderly turtle, but life goes on, trips go into and come out of the mountains, and I am still searching after God.
Sorry for not writing sooner. I’m in the radio room right now and it feels like the first extended down time I’ve had in about a month. It feels great to have a flushing toilet!
I love the letters I’ve gotten! Keep them coming!
2 comments:
Hey Ben. Perhaps I'm being presumptuous in saying this, but who has ever known me to keep my opinion to myself? It's interesting what you say about not finding God in the mountains this year. It's the kind of thing I hear people say frequently and I have certainly felt it, but I wonder if it stems from a fundamental misunderstanding of the situation. I think that people frequently confuse a certain spiritual extacy with communion with God. The fact is that what we feel has nothing to do with how willing God is to communicate with us. He is always around us and He is always with us. That never changes despite our feelings. I think that "dry" spells are frequently just us being disappointed that we aren't feeling the way we want and not some sort of mystical distance between us and God. I hope this isn't crass, but it seems to me that calling those extatic mountain-top experiences true interaction with God is like calling what one experiences in sexual intercourse with one's wife true interaction with one's wife. It certainly is a wonderful part of the relationship between a husband and a wife, but if one expects those sensations and feelings to be the totality of marriage they are greatly mistaken and will be quite disappointed. I think it's the same with God. Sometimes we have those extatic moments, but not always and that's how it is supposed to be. I think it perhaps means more to God when we follow Him faithfully despite the "dry" feeling because it actually takes work on our part. Well, I hope I wasn't too preachy, but those are my thoughts. Take 'em or leave 'em.
now mind you, ben, i'm just a silly old woman, but i can actually relate to your disenchanted summit moments this summer, only on a vastly lower scale. last weekend the Lord and i sat at the top of sauk mountain for the first time in way too many years, and having "summitted" something at all in my condition should have been monumental for me. oddly enough, it wasn't. mt. baker was right where it had always been, as was shuksan and even glacier peak ... beautiful, breathaking, but my reaction was decidedly ho hum. in retrospect i did come away with something, though, and i offer it to you way up there in the high country, for what it's worth. :-) this time up sauk mountain i climbed with an 8 year old girl who had never been remotely as high as we were on that mountain. all the way up those jillion dozen switchbacks she exclaimed at the view and the meadows filled with flowers and she asked me a hundred questions between begging for a shady place to rest, where we talked about staying on the trail and not taking shortcuts even though they looked inviting and trusting the one leading her up the hill ... allegories all and well-rehearsed in my memory. but to her they were brand new and the stretch and her glee at the top were treasures i know she'll remember her whole life long. the Lord is using you to introduce kids who may normally keep God in their hip pocket to a wider, wilder, truer glimpse of who He is, and simply being faithful in that is a high calling. i was humbled by the step-by-step of my little big climb last weekend and i know today that the bigger thrill and treasured memory for me will be watching God show up for my 8 year old friend and realizing that in the same moment, He'd shown up for me after all. hang in there! db
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