The sun was shining but the air was crisp. I could feel the crunching of the stones beneath my feet as I inclined up the mountain. The others were anxiously chatting, but I trailed behind the pack too busy attempting to drown out my fears. With each step I tried to take in the beautiful Colorado scenery and tell myself, “You got this. Thousands of others have done this before you. Don’t chicken out. This is something you can overcome.”
Then I came to the top and looked over the edge. Rock repelling. This wasn’t the rock climbing with the notches you see in Gander Mountain and then you can just rock repel down the relatively flat surface. Oh no, this was a REAL mountain side. You know the kind that has sharp edges worn down by years of weather. The ones that snakes and other bugs can creep from crevices. As I watched each of my fellow Young Life campers repel down I was losing it. Even though they were safely making it to the bottom, I knew I would not. I knew I would be the one to slam into the rock or forget how to work the “rope brake.” I began to silently pray.
I knew God was nudging me to trust Him. Something so simple. Except when you are standing on the top of what has to be the tallest mountain in Colorado.
The next thing I knew I was strapped in. Just kidding, my best friend and I decided to walk down the mountain the way we came up. She was my support; secretly, I think she was afraid for her life like I was.
How great of a story would it have been to say I overcame my fear and trusted God?
Instead I gave up the risk for comfort.
I wish I could say I learned my lesson and from the age of seventeen I have been trusting God with every backward hop down the mountainside.
If you are honest, I am betting this is resonating with you too. How many times have you been at the top of the mountain with God saying, “Just trust me”?
There are always two ways down: His way through trust repelling or my own way back down the way I came.
About halfway down the mountain on that sunny day and after the fiftieth time we slipped, we realized this way down may have actually been more physically dangerous then just repelling down.
This is true for me now in my faith. When I trust Him it is not always easy, but it is always easier then when I try to do it myself.
For the past several weeks I have been blessed to speak in Lumberton, Greensboro, and for a MOPS group here in Charlotte. It has been trusting a whole lot. My biggest trust hop came in the form of an answer on Thursday.
I feel like the woman at the well in John 4.
5 So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. 6 Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon.
7 When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” 8 (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.)
9 The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.[a])
10 Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”
11 “Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? 12 Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?”
13 Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, 14 but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”
15 The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”
16 He told her, “Go, call your husband and come back.”
17 “I have no husband,” she replied.
Jesus said to her, “You are right when you say you have no husband. 18 The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true.”
The conversation continues and Jesus tells this woman, whom he isn’t even “allowed” to speak with who He truly is. I love what she does next.
28 Then, leaving her water jar, the woman went back to the town and said to the people, 29 “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?”
I love this. I love this for several reasons. First of all, I believe Jesus knew this woman, whom he wasn’t “supposed” to speak to would be meeting him there.
I think about all the times He was already waiting for me to just show up.
Sometimes I come straight there, but sometimes it takes me a little longer because I have detoured down what is more comfortable first.
I love this because this woman seems to be an outcast. She is drawing water in the heat of the day and all alone. Historians have said the women would not only draw water in the morning, but also in groups. One can make assumptions why she may be all alone at noon, but she resonates in me. How often do I feel like an outcast? How often am I willing to take a different route or change my routine to avoid others?
I also love this because Jesus calls her out. In verses 17-18 when Jesus says, “you are right. You have had five husbands.” I want to say, “Oh snap!” I have been on the receiving end of this where I felt called out. Either by a circumstance or a needed conversation. Recently, it was in a “no” from a phone call.
Finally, I love this because Jesus was not afraid to be seen speaking to this woman in order to live out the truth. He was not playing it safe. He was willing to take the risk. I wish I could say the same, but I like comfort.
Comfort foods, comfy blankets, comfy socks, and a comfortable life. Certainly we take risks and allow strangers in our home. Whether that has been hosting coaches (Stranger Things), inviting the Starbucks barista and her husband for Easter Dinner, the events we host, the neighbor kids over the years, the women’s eGroup each Thursday, or all the high school girls each week in my youth eGroup. These are no longer risky. These are all comfort for me.
The past five months I have been waiting to hear back from my agent on the publisher taking on my book. She told me I would know by the end of October. During this time God has been meeting me at the well. He has been reminding me of who He is. He has been reminding me to trust. But because I like comfort, I would rather not take the risk. Having a publisher make all the hard choices for me is comfort.
God keeps calling me out on that thought. He kept reminding me of my “why.” I wrote the book out of pure obedience. Not only do I want to honor God and Alex’s memory, but I do not ever want another mom to feel the depth of loneliness I felt. As the story evolved so did the idea to give away my book at Duke Medical Center to parents when they lose a child, to provide a hope in the healing heart. This is my ultimate why. Sure I believe this story of hope, despite all the stories we tell ourselves, will resonate with many but it is the weeping childless mother I want to reach. If I use a traditional publisher I can not accomplish my “why” in the same way.
On the very last day of the month I heard from my agent what I have known in my heart for some time, “No, the publisher is not interested in your book at this time.”
Just like being at the top of the Colorado mountain or for the woman at the well, He was anticipating my arrival. He was telling me to trust. I have two options: rock repel in trust or head down the mountain the way I came up.
If I head down the way I came up I can forget the ministry and leave it all behind or I can continue to seek out other publishers.
Or I can rock repel in trust and do this myself. I can invest my own time and money to truly make this our ministry.
This time I am actually going to strap in. This time I am not going to look down but instead up and trust in the One the woman at the well left her jar behind to tell the world.
What in your life have you walked back down the mountain for? Where is God calling you out to trust repel?
