Faith That Descends Mountains

Often as I write, I am tempted to hold back sharing the hard times and revealing what a jerk and failure I can be. Usually as soon as I start feeling this way, a friend will tell me how much something I've written meant to her, and it's a kick in the pants to keep on being transparent ole me, divulging far more than makes you or me comfortable. I have not always viewed hard times as a blessing and a time for growth. For half my life, I thought the good stuff was only on the mountaintops.

At a very early age of seven, I came to understand the gospel, or the good news, that although I was a broken person who was separated from God, He loved me enough to send his son Jesus to earth to live a pure life, to die a sacrificial death, and to defeat the powers of death so that not only would I have an eternity in the presence of God, but I would have peace with him and relationship with him now on this side of life. I understood that this was the most amazing thing ever, and it was not meant just for me. At an early age I was totally mesmerized by followers of Jesus that traveled to the ends of the earth to share this with people who had not heard. I knew then that I wanted to walk in their footsteps, although I was terrified of the possibility of having to eat bugs or live in a tent. I also had a very vivid imagination and deep awareness of the spiritual world around me, the things unseen, the things I feared when I went to bed at night, and the peace of God's presence in my times of fear. It was at the age of seven that I also learned the gesture of flipping someone "the bird". I knew this was a highly offensive gesture that I was never to do to another person, but I figured if anyone deserved it, it was the devil, so one night I pulled up the bed sheets to my chin and gave Satan the bird under the protection of my covers.

I clearly remember the first time feeling the overwhelming presence of God while praying with a group of girlfriends during a trip to Reynosa, Mexico where we built houses for families living on landfills. Summer trips and camp were times of amazing mountaintop experiences where I received teaching, encouragement, and got intense spiritual highs. All through high school I found myself living for times when I felt I was doing something worthy of praise, like leading Bible studies, going on missions trips, working as a camp counselor. I was so prideful and probably unapproachable and lacking empathy for other people.

By my first year in college, the deep emotional connection I felt to God, and the extreme highs from summers began to grow weaker. I felt like I was losing my faith and being shunned by God. I didn't understand why my passion seemed to fade, why I was often depressed, and what was wrong with me that I couldn't force myself to feel God. In my mind, fervency, passion, excitement, conviction of calling, all equaled strong faith. Depression, doubt, struggle, longing, equaled weak faith. I have continued to struggle in my faith as I've seen the passing of two grandparents during times of extreme doubt in eternal life, sought to honor my husband who was convicted to stay in Raleigh rather than do missions somewhere else, experienced the disappointment of not getting the job I wanted, lost two pregnancies, struggled with my perceptions of the church etc. It would seem that all the mountaintop experiences have gone, especially now that life is so normal. On a trip to Romania after my sophomore year, I confided in the missionaries I was staying with that I was struggling to feel the presence of God in my life. As they listened to me, they smiled as said, "But we can see Him working in you!"

As followers of Jesus, it should be our one and only goal to make much of Jesus - to have people see him in our lives and be drawn to him. A faith that only gratifies our longing for emotionally exhilarating spiritual experiences does not testify to the greatness of the cross, the Jesus that heals, the Jesus that weeps with us, or the Jesus that suffered, or the Jesus that restores. That faith generates artificial joy that vanishes the second the experience that elicited the initial feeling is over. My understanding of faith has changed, and in my struggles, doubts and failures, I am finding strength not in my ability to fabricate faith and joy but in the saving grace of Jesus Christ. The joy that has entered in during these last several years has been more real than any momentary bliss I found during those mountaintop experiences.

I love this passage from 1 Peter 1:

3Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, 5who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 6In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 9for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

The beauty in a faith that descends mountains is that people can look in and find a Jesus that is accessible despite their own doubts, fears and struggles. As I share heartache, your own heartache resonates and hopefully my hope in Jesus begins to resonate in you as well.