I recently began working outside our home. For the previous four years, I poured my days (what was left after washing dishes and buying groceries, which are both part of a vicious but necessary cycle, now that I think about it.) into writing and all the obligations surrounding it (e.g. social media). But what I loved—what I always wanted to be doing—was opening the Word of God and writing about it. That part never felt like work. It still doesn’t.
There are big chunks of my new
job that don’t feel like work.
But now, I go to an office most days, and I’m trying to adjust my life to this new normal while I try not to lose the writing. This struggle for adjustment is why, for the first time since September 2015, my blog posts are sometimes late. There are big chunks of my new job that don’t feel like work, just like when I wrote from home. And some parts of my new job that are work feel like the work of helping someone move: hard but rewarding. (Maybe for you, it’s gardening or baking.) God has equipped and trained me for this new job, and I know He has placed me there for this time. Continue reading →
Since before I wrote Walls and Weapons in October, we’ve been singing “Do It Again” from Elevation Worship at church. (The first line is about walls. It’s an obvious connection.) The bridge goes like this:
I’ve seen you move, you move the mountains, and I believe I’ll see you do it again.
Well, the walls I described back in that October post are still standing. The mountain that needs to move isn’t gone. As we sang this song again on Sunday, I mentally reminded the Lord that, while I absolutely believe He’ll “do it again,” we’re still waiting. Immediately, this phrase came to my mind:
There’s more than one way to move a mountain.
I stopped singing. My mouth may have hung open. The wheels in my brain started turning, and images began to cycle…images of the many ways mountains can be moved.
The Grand Canyon is the product of erosion. So are most cave systems and the smooth tops of the Appalachian Mountains. Slowly and steadily, wind and/or water wear away at soil, rock, and everything else, turning jagged edges smooth, wearing towers down to nubs. You can’t watch it happen, but you can clearly see evidence of it.
Sometimes our problems very gradually dissipate as “springs of living water” (Revelation 7:17, also John 4:14) flow in and around us. The key is to keep the water flowing, that is, to stay close to Jesus. We’ve seen the smoothing of some rough edges on our mountain, making it a little easier to manage every day.
I love heavy equipment! (How could I not have any photos?!?) A bunch of bulldozers and dump trucks can roll in and remove a mountain in a matter of weeks. It’s not pretty and may not be good for the environment (e.g. strip mining), but it’s possible.
We can move our spiritual mountains through the application of human resources, too.
Doctors and medicines
friends lending their services
all help us tackle the mountains in our lives. After praying for God to move our particular mountain, He has guided us to some heavy equipment to tackle part of the job.
The mountain’s environment: Beavers chop down trees to make dams that back up streams. Birds carry away twigs for nests and deposit seeds that become trees. Moles tunnel through the ground, loosening soil that the wind blows away. Men clear space for roads and fields. Many factors alter or remove small parts of the mountain.
As our environment changes, our mountain changes. It wears down. It loosens up, making erosion easier. Some small things have changed, some small steps have been taken so that the mountain is looser. It’s a little easier to live here now, and it may come down more quickly in the future.
The believer’s environment: It’s also possible to simply move away. Maybe the mountain doesn’t need to move as much as we need to move out of its vicinity. A change in our environment produces the same results as moving the mountain. Mount Kilimanjaro doesn’t look quite as impressive from one hundred miles away.
We’ve changed a few things around here (and stood firm on a few other things) to get a better perspective on our mountain. While we can’t move, we’ve learned to simply look in a different direction occasionally by getting away for a vacation or holiday.
Very rarely, the earth shakes and the mountain crumbles—gone in a matter of minutes. That’s entirely the hand of God. Earthquakes are dangerous for miles, the land often racked with instability and aftershocks. (Kinda thankful I don’t have any first-hand photos of earthquakes.)
When Jesus talked of moving
mountains, He was thinking
about motives, not methods.
It seems I was looking for the earthquake or some miraculous disappearing act—a heavenly sleight of hand—that would solve our situation without much work or patience on my part. Clearly, that’s not God’s only way to work.
When Jesus talked of moving mountains, He wasn’t worried about methods, just motives.
Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you. –Matthew 17:20
So I’m willing to wait and watch, knowing God has a purpose in the methods He’s using for us. Because God does move mountains, one way or another.
I’m on my second walk through Psalms this year, something to which God called me before 2017 began. (Read more about that here.) If there’s one constant through the Psalms, it is worship. Every single Psalm, in one way or another, expresses worship to God.