Faith vs. The Mountain
I haven’t written anything in over a year, other than short sentiments on Facebook or to someone in a letter, and it feels strange. I’ve always found a certain cleansing through writing. I’ve always felt like writing was my avenue. But this year, I needed time. I needed time to just simply be. I needed time to let myself be enough for myself. I needed to be Emily. Not Emily the writer, or Emily the singer, or even Emily, my old friend from college. That doesn’t mean I stopped being any of those things. It just means I stopped worrying about how people perceived me and simply lived my life. Well, let me put it this way- I tried to stop worrying about what people think of me. It’s a journey that I’m still on; an ongoing process of building strength and confidence in the person I know that God has called me to be. It has been more than refreshing. It has been vital.
I was getting overwhelmed with other people’s voices, even my own voice, and I felt like God’s voice was getting quieter. It was getting harder to distinguish between wrong and right, because I was allowing influence from so many sources instead of just one--- the only one that I knew mattered. I didn’t make any perilous decisions or run away from God. I just felt like things were blurry. Maybe that doesn’t make sense to some of you, but if you’ve been there, you know what I mean. Life just keeps zipping by and the days feel as if they lack any intentionality or purpose. You don’t know how it happened, you didn’t do it on purpose, but there it is before you, this life filled with routine and exhaustion and you’re stuck in the middle. You want out. You start fighting your way out.
And then you get exhausted from the fight. You know how the old saying goes, “climbing an uphill battle.” You’re kind to people, you try to make good choices, but you still feel like the motivation just isn’t there. You're not making any impact. You’re just floating, floating, floating and you don’t even have a direction in mind. Wherever the wind takes you. But that’s just not good enough for me. I’m not digging an empty grave without knowing what my tombstone will say. I’m going to have meaning. I’m going to fight the good fight until I can’t fight any longer. I’m hopeful of a specific destination-- an eternity marked by immeasurable joy.
I think most people believe that faith is most important during the battle; that faith is most important when you have something at stake. But I think faith is convenient for people going through the hardest time of their life. I don’t mean that harshly; it’s just that, to me, it’s easiest to ask God for help when you have no other options. Trust me. I’ve been there. That doesn't make faith any less important during those times.
But I think faith is most important after you’ve lost the battle. That’s when faith is the bravest option. When everyone else has watched you lose, when the outcome was utter
defeat, when it doesn’t make sense to believe in goodness any longer. That’s where faith shines. You can’t show your strength unless you’ve been threatened by weakness. You can’t give comfort unless there’s been hurt involved. You can’t shine if there is no darkness. You see what I’m getting at? It doesn’t feel good. It never will. It doesn’t get any easier either. But without faith, where is the meaning? Where is the purpose? Can you really believe this life is so void of substance?
What I’ve seen so far throughout my years in ministry is this: often times we speak of faith that can move mountains, but we practice faith in the mountain itself. What I mean is that we never question the size or grandeur of a mountain. We trust its height and firmness. We believe it will continue to stand despite many storms. Yet we worship a God who can literally MOVE it. Anytime he wants to. So why is it so hard to trust that He has our life in His hands too?
So, when you’re standing in the valley, breaking your neck looking up at the mountain in front of you, wondering how on earth you’re going to get to the other side--- or maybe you’re even to the point of giving up and turning around, settling for a life you know is less than you were made for --- remember this:
The same God that built the mountain built you. He designed you specifically. He hardwired you to be strong. Capable. A warrior.
He doesn’t build losers. He builds warriors.
No matter how high the mountain is, He can take you higher.
Stand up, brush off your knees, and start climbing. The other side is more beautiful than you could ever imagine and the view is absolutely worth it.
I was getting overwhelmed with other people’s voices, even my own voice, and I felt like God’s voice was getting quieter. It was getting harder to distinguish between wrong and right, because I was allowing influence from so many sources instead of just one--- the only one that I knew mattered. I didn’t make any perilous decisions or run away from God. I just felt like things were blurry. Maybe that doesn’t make sense to some of you, but if you’ve been there, you know what I mean. Life just keeps zipping by and the days feel as if they lack any intentionality or purpose. You don’t know how it happened, you didn’t do it on purpose, but there it is before you, this life filled with routine and exhaustion and you’re stuck in the middle. You want out. You start fighting your way out.
And then you get exhausted from the fight. You know how the old saying goes, “climbing an uphill battle.” You’re kind to people, you try to make good choices, but you still feel like the motivation just isn’t there. You're not making any impact. You’re just floating, floating, floating and you don’t even have a direction in mind. Wherever the wind takes you. But that’s just not good enough for me. I’m not digging an empty grave without knowing what my tombstone will say. I’m going to have meaning. I’m going to fight the good fight until I can’t fight any longer. I’m hopeful of a specific destination-- an eternity marked by immeasurable joy.
I think most people believe that faith is most important during the battle; that faith is most important when you have something at stake. But I think faith is convenient for people going through the hardest time of their life. I don’t mean that harshly; it’s just that, to me, it’s easiest to ask God for help when you have no other options. Trust me. I’ve been there. That doesn't make faith any less important during those times.
But I think faith is most important after you’ve lost the battle. That’s when faith is the bravest option. When everyone else has watched you lose, when the outcome was utter
defeat, when it doesn’t make sense to believe in goodness any longer. That’s where faith shines. You can’t show your strength unless you’ve been threatened by weakness. You can’t give comfort unless there’s been hurt involved. You can’t shine if there is no darkness. You see what I’m getting at? It doesn’t feel good. It never will. It doesn’t get any easier either. But without faith, where is the meaning? Where is the purpose? Can you really believe this life is so void of substance?
What I’ve seen so far throughout my years in ministry is this: often times we speak of faith that can move mountains, but we practice faith in the mountain itself. What I mean is that we never question the size or grandeur of a mountain. We trust its height and firmness. We believe it will continue to stand despite many storms. Yet we worship a God who can literally MOVE it. Anytime he wants to. So why is it so hard to trust that He has our life in His hands too?
So, when you’re standing in the valley, breaking your neck looking up at the mountain in front of you, wondering how on earth you’re going to get to the other side--- or maybe you’re even to the point of giving up and turning around, settling for a life you know is less than you were made for --- remember this:
The same God that built the mountain built you. He designed you specifically. He hardwired you to be strong. Capable. A warrior.
He doesn’t build losers. He builds warriors.
No matter how high the mountain is, He can take you higher.
Stand up, brush off your knees, and start climbing. The other side is more beautiful than you could ever imagine and the view is absolutely worth it.
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