I recently read a devotional that referenced the mountain versus valley analogy that is so common in Christian dialog. We trudge through the valley and rejoice on the mountain. That’s just the way it goes, right?
In the mountain/valley analogy, we always focus on walking through the warm, low, difficult valley as opposed to standing on the peak and breathing in the fresh, crisp mountain air. We talk about feeling low and distant from God as opposed to feeling high and close to Him. But what about the in-between? What about the climb? We don’t really talk that much about the climb.
We don’t talk about the effort it takes to get out of the valley where, even if the going is tough because of heat or undergrowth blocking our way, it’s mostly flat. We don’t talk about how we have to shift to a climb to go from the valley to the mountain. We don’t dwell on the effort it takes to be constantly moving upward.
We just talk about being either in the valley or on top of that mountain.
But, there’s a lot in between. And I daresay that, even though it’s all hard work, the in-between might be the best place to be. It does seem to be where we spend most of our time in life, doesn’t it?
There are some beautiful places to hike here in Arkansas. One of my favorites is on Petit Jean Mountain. Now, as far as mountains go, Petit Jean isn’t much. It’s probably more of a ridge, to be honest, and those who live around “real” mountains kind of laugh at us over even calling Petit Jean a mountain. But, the lack of height doesn’t diminish the reality that it’s an absolutely beautiful spot. My favorite trail on Petit Jean actually starts at a spot on top of the mountain and descends into a little valley. A beautiful waterfall awaits hikers at the end of the trail. We hike down, see the waterfall, enjoy the beauty, and then hike back up. The “peak” of the trip is actually in the little valley, not at the top of the mountain. Hiking to the waterfall is fairly easy. But then you have to get back out. You have to go back up. You have to climb. And what waits at the end of the climb? The end of the trek, with the beautiful goal of the hike left behind, down in the valley.
On other trails at Petit Jean, there honestly isn’t anything spectacular at the end of the trail or at the top of the climb. Instead, the beauty extends all along the path. There are breathtaking moments, both in expansive views and in minute details of nature. Sometimes those moments are in a little valley, other times in the middle of a climb. Sometimes we see them by looking down and other times by looking up. Still other times, the joy is found in simply looking around us at where we are right then.
Another “mountain” in Arkansas, Pinnacle, offers a trail in which the reward is decidedly at the top. Perched just outside of Little Rock, this little mountain can be fairly quickly hiked but renders an amazing view of the Arkansas River Valley.
I wonder how many times I miss the beautiful moments in life, those moments when I might discover incredibly closeness with Christ, because the trail isn’t exactly what I expect. I look for the treasure to always be on the mountain top, and often it is there. But sometimes it’s in the valley. Other times it’s along the path itself.
Those moments can be found anywhere along our journey.
As my mind travels through Scripture, I think of the number of times when God showed His presence in the middle of…life. Sometimes it was in pain and hardship. Other times He revealed Himself as His children were simply going through the normal flow of life. And still other times, His presence was most powerful after the effort of a climb. In fact, the mountaintop experiences of Scripture are much less common than the stories of God’s presence showing up right in the middle of the hike.
The truth is that our Savior is there through it all. Sometimes we sense His presence more strongly than others. And, it’s often easier to focus on Him when we’re standing on top of the world, in awe of His creation, than when we’re huffing and puffing along the path, whether in the valley where we’re constantly dodging obstacles or on the climb as we’re trying to catch our breath.
But that doesn’t mean He’s more present in one place than the other. It may simply mean that we train our hearts and minds to see Him more clearly in one place than the other.
As I hike Arkansas, I’ve learned to train my eyes to see beauty all along the path, not just at the end. What if I were to train my spiritual eyes the same way? How differently would I approach life if I expected that glorious intimacy to exist all along the way?
Not Quite Ordinary 