I dare you to not have Mother Superior singing in your head from The Sound of Music right now. It’s what I’m going for actually. it will make a nice background while you’re reading this.
“And he told them a parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart.” – Luke 18
For those of you who know us personally, you know that Rob has been job searching for about two-ish years now. In the current economy it’s not that crazy to be looking for that long, especially in what would be considered, essentially, middle management/ mid-careerish jobs. And ask anyone who has been here how it feels and I think the words “roller coaster” might be included, and not in a good way.
We just got off another roller coaster. And it’s a little like that moment went you step off the platform and your head is still spinning. You’re not even sure you liked the ride or not and people are asking if you want to ride it again and you think, is that a bench I see right there? I’m going to not ride on that for a minute.
While that analogy doesn’t quite fit in some ways, it does feel that way at times. Your mind gets spinning and you don’t always have time or the brain power to process it all. But we know a few things already. We know we visited a beautiful part of the country and that our girls travel well. We know that God isn’t calling us to rural Washington state right now. We know that it all means starting from square one again. And we know that we have no idea what God is going to do next. But this much is certain. We didn’t die. And for us, that means God is still working and wants us here. There is hope in that.
And like the widow who persisted in Luke chapter 18, we go back to the drawing board and ask again. We ask the good and faithful Judge for all good things. We commit again to climbing mountains, or waiting for Him to move them for us. We look up, always up, even when we look down first. And we wait.
The mountains always remind me of the scene in Lord of the rings when Bilbo says, “I want to see mountains again, Gandalf, mountains, and then find somewhere where I can rest.” I want mountains when we’re in this valley, Lord. We want rest and green pastures. We want to feed your sheep. We want to be useful. We don’t know what You’re doing or why or why it’s taking what feels like long to us. We don’t understand why You choose to open and close doors the way You’ve been lately. We can’t help in our weakest moments to feel drained, tempted to despair – or hold the tempted – sometimes questioning why You would make it seem like You’re just teasing us, giving us a wiff of possibilities. And even when we know it will be difficult, when those possibilities are chock-full of their own obstacles and complexities, we are willing and submit it all to You. Then when You see fit to close doors, we can’t help but wonder what all that was for. Was it just a test? Can we equate it to something along the lines of take your son and a knife and enough wood for an altar? Did we pass?
We wait. We know You aren’t safe. We knew following You means anywhere and everywhere and nowhere. We told You we would and I guess we are proving we meant it. And like hiking a mountain, a lot of the time it’s just to prove to ourselves that we can and to see what we couldn’t from the bottom.
Help us in this valley, Lord. We want to climb mountains.
And a prize goes to anyone who guessed that this photo is Mt. Hood, Oregon.