Ps 18:2 The LORD is my high ridge, my stronghold, my deliverer. My God is my rocky summit where I take shelter, my shield, the horn that saves me, and my refuge.
In rocky terrain Lord God has always watched over us and cared for us. Last week I listened to an Irani leader (who has chosen to stay there among a mass exodus of Irani citizens) and he talked about the “there” that God calls each of us to. In your THERE, he said, a space is created for God’s provision, his protection, his power.
Why have many not experienced these things? Because they’ve been unwilling to go (or for some, to stay) THERE.
When we completely surrender our preferences to God it opens up the door for him to be huge in our THERE! These thoughts were along the lines of what God had been putting on my heart.
Yes. Take me there, God. I want to see you be God. I want to be small and see You be big.
Take me to the mountains.
We are scrunched into row 8 B & C, on our last domestic flight, headed home for five days of packing and goodbyes. Little guy is magically asleep in my lap (a rarer treasure on travel days as he gets older) and I type with my index finger of my left hand… Ha… Slow going, but when will I have another calm moment until we get overseas, and then we probably won’t have internet! So there ya go, my first one-fingered blog… Ta-da!
In a week we’ll make the trek up to our new mountain town in India, and begin our house-hunt. My hope is for a 2 bedroom apartment on the sunny side of the mountain. That’s it! And I gain more confidence in Gods provision every day. I know he’s up to something. He has big plans for our hearts and minds, plans that will stretch our span of patience and fill our hearts with love for people.
I now write from my parents’ quiet living room on Sunday afternoon. 2 more days to pack. Others are napping and I sit amid packing madness. I soak in the changing season. The transition to a season in the mountains. A mountain season of hiddenness.
Our first year is one of learning and preparation. I sense in my spirit that it will also be a hidden season.
Hidden largely from the vast audience of Facebook or Twitter. With much less access to Internet or friends or family. I imagine we’ll mourn the seclusion more than those who “follow” us will. I’m pretty dependent on others’ approval of my daily goings-on. Embarrassing, but true.
And it is also strange to go from such a celebrated season of advocacy to one of learning and immersion in hiddenness. Immersion into lots and lots of new people. Yet suddenly distant from the community feel of social media. Interesting how one can be surrounded by people, but lonely.
For those who love us and want to stay up-to-date, email us anytime!
And don’t assume that our real days are a reflection of our boring Facebook existence. Assume that with fewer tweets and FB posts, a lot must be happening up in those mountains.
Until then… Take me to the mountains!