This past weekend I retreated to my spiritual watering hole deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains. When I left it behind two years before, I had just experienced one of the most amazing encounters with the Lord I could ever imagine (see “Part I: 12 Stones”).If you’ve taken the time to review that blog version of War & Peace, you might be wondering “So, are the stones still there?” Well … no.
And I can’t say I wasn’t a little disappointed. In my excitement over the possibility that those same rocks might still be teetering untouched in the middle of the water, I nearly ended up in the falls climbing up to them — narrowly avoiding yet another Darwin Award nomination.
I just stood there staring at the stream, trying to picture in my head what I last left behind (I should’ve taken the camera). The physical absence of that powerful reminder of the love, presence and trustworthy provision of the Lord wasn’t so hard to deal with as were the thoughts that shortly followed: “Is God still with me like He was then?” “Has His favor left me?”
I felt like Samson after a haircut. Like Elijah, despairing of life and looking for the Lord’s presence in the wind, the earthquake, the fire … only to find it in the still, small voice.
"Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My Word shall never pass away."
He was saying to me "You don’t need a memorial to remind you of My continuing presence and faithfulness. My whole church was built upon a rock that couldn’t be seen or touched — that flesh hath not revealed.”
Yet again, He was wrenching my feelings from my faith, the seen from the evidence of things unseen. The lesson being, His Word endures forever, certainly longer than any jury-rigged heap of stones, regardless of the sentiment behind it. I took one of the rocks from the middle of the stream back home with me as a reminder that His Truth — His promise — was even more real than what I held in my hand ... a truth I'm still trying to wrap my mind around. It’s now a conversation piece in my office at work, where, Lord knows, I need it most.
Walking out of the falls, I came to the little bridge that, for me, marks the transition from that sheltered realm of restoration and peace to the world that I have to live in. In that respect, you can't 'live on the mountain,' no matter who your real estate agent is. But, not surprisingly, His message to me was the same as when I last crossed it: "The Word is real no matter what you feel — walk, go forward in the Truth."
On the way back to my parents’ place I took the scenic route, jumping on the Blue Ridge Parkway so I could look down on where I'd just been. And, as He always does (seemingly just to make me laugh out loud), He gave me just one more reminder to send me on my way, parting the hovering clouds and smiling down for one brief, fortuitous moment on the place I had just left. (And this time I did have the camera with me!)
"The Mountain"
I want to build a house up on this mountain
Way up high where the peaceful waters flow
To quench my thirsty soul
Up on the mountain
My faith is strengthened by all that I see
You make it easy for me to believe up on the mountain
Oh, up on the mountain
I would love to live up on this mountain
And keep the pain of living life so far away
But I know I can't stay
Up on the mountain
I said I'd go, Lord, wherever You lead
For where You are is where I most want to be
And I can tell we're headed for the valley
My faith is strengthened by all that I've seen
So Lord help me remember what You've shown me
Up on the mountain
You bring me up here on this mountain
For me to rest and learn and grow
I see the truth up on the mountain And I carry it to the world far below
So as I go down to the valley
Knowing that You will go with me
This is my prayer, Lord
Help me to remember what You've shown me
Up on the mountain
Up on the mountain
I cherish these times up on the mountain
But I can leave this place because I know
Someday You'll take me home to live forever
Up on the mountain
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