And then the day began and I went through my own personal hills and valleys of encouragement and frustration. I experienced being energized and exhausted - confident and questions. Life was more than the place in my head and by the end of the day it can feel more like I am trying to climb Mt Everest, than simply connect with the Lord.
And then a deeper frustration comes. I find myself wrestling in the same areas I have wrestled for years and the weariness is beyond the daily grind, but a question of whether or not I will ever truly overcome my own flaws and failings. Will I ever really push through this invisible brick wall that has held me back time and time again? The mountain I'm climbing seems to be growing, making my progress actually feel like I am moving backwards. I question if I should be climbing at all. Maybe it would be better to just sit down where I am. Sure, I'm not at the top but I wouldn't have to climb anymore. The weariness could be over. Accept the mountain for what it is and be thankful that when Christ returns, all these mountains will be made low. The crooked will be straight. The rough places plain. (Isaiah 40:4) Can't I just wait for the glory of the Lord?
But these are not the thoughts of one centered on the Lord. Isaiah 26 says "The steadfast mind will You keep in perfect peace, because he trusts in You. Trust in the Lord forever, for in God the Lord, we have an everlasting Rock." Paul experienced frustrations. In 2 Corinthians 12 we have an amazing view into Paul's heart and mind as he implores the Lord to remove this "thorn in the flesh", this "messenger of Satan to torment him". God reveals to Paul that the strength found in weakness is stronger than Satan himself. Paul learns that God's great grace had so much more fulfillment than earthly strength.
In Psalm 62, David says "My soul waits in silence for God only; from Him is my salvation. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be greatly shaken."
My strength is not from myself or anyone else, but God alone. Resting in Him, I can never be shaken, which leads me to ask:
Am I wrestling my weakness or am I really wrestling my pride which doesn't like the idea of being weak?
Is the mountain really growing or is the distance I feel between myself and the Lord the result of my unwillingness to ask Him to come to me?
Could my valleys rise and my hills be brought low, a straight path to the Lord, if I ask Him? Will the One who descended from heaven, into the depths of hell and conquered sin and death for my sake really abandon me in my time of weakness? (Rom 8:37-39) Will the One who "allowed Himself to be tempted in that which He suffered to come to the aid of those who are tempted" reject me in my frailty? (Heb 2:18)
Is the thorn in my flesh not actually something pressing in on the surface, but the very heart inside of me refusing to die to it's selfish pride and ambition?
I rest on the side of the mountain, but not to stop. Rather, I cry out to the Lord, "Carry me, Father. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I."
