Mountains. They’re beautiful, unless they’re in my way. And then they become a nuisance. I know that a 5 mile drive on the prairie will be a quick trip, but a five-mile drive through mountains is not.
I’m use to moving at a fast pace, but when I run into an unexpected spiritual or life mountain I stomp my feet and command it to move. Then when it doesn’t, I throw an adult size temper tantrum. When the temper tantrum doesn’t work, I try whining because I think that might be more effective. Then when the whining doesn’t work, I give God the silent treatment. Mature? Moi? Nah.
I treat mountains, those things that crop up in my life unexpectedly, as destructive forces out to destroy my life. This is me when I’m self-absorbed and self-led instead of God-absorbed and Holy Spirit led.
But God reminds me of the things I know and the things I need to remember:
“For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken.” Psalm 62:5-6
God is my hope. But life sometimes distracts me.
He is my rock, my salvation, and my fortress.
Why, then, does life shake me?
Because it’s far too easy to place our expectations in what we can control then to place our expectations in the One who controls everything, but seems so unpredictable.
But this mentality is faulty from the onset. We cannot control anything. We think we can because we have calendars we dictate. We have jobs we perform. We’re mothers and fathers who are raising little human beings. We decide whether we’re going to take the direct route to our destination or the scenic route.
It’s this control that we cling to that deceives us into thinking we’ve got it all covered. Then when something, whether it’s a sickness, an internal battle, or job issue becomes a mountain in your way and nothing you can do causes it to move, that’s when freaking out happens.
We worry and fret. We question God and ask: “why in heaven’s name isn’t he moving this mountain?” We try to invoke the name of Jesus and still the mountain doesn’t move. So then we come full circle and pull a grown-up size temper tantrum, whine, or give God the silent treatment. Sometimes we even try and hold our breath in protest.
God is our hope and our rock. Mountains are made of rock. And maybe God is in the mountain and he wants to meet you there.
Maybe God is in the mountain and he wants to meet you there. Click To Tweet
Our hope, our expectations can be placed in the most trustworthy one: God.
So the next time you run into a mountain, don’t assume it needs to moved, maybe, just maybe it’s a place to meet with God and be transformed. Maybe your mountain, that you want moved more than anything else, is actually a holy place.