Excuse me in advance if this entry seems even cheesier than my usual writing already is, but I recently came upon a real-life analogy for God’s will that is too good to not document. It’s a story about a mountain climb—bottom to top. Here we go.
A few weeks ago my friends and I were looking for a little adventure and nature-time, which led us to trek out to Turin’s closest mountain, located at the foothills of the Valle d’Aosta. We arrived eager and ready to take on our “moderate 2 hour” climb to the top of the mountain. While our climb was nothing like the leisurely, care-free trek we had envisioned, it served as a striking metaphor for understanding how God reveals His will to us.
If you’re anything like me, you can spend much time and energy trying to discern God’s path for your life. You want to know what the journey will look like, where it will lead you, and how you will move along. The more you know, the more you can prepare yourself, right? Well if you’re anything like me, you also know that the harder you try to come to the point of such preparation, the more clearly you see that the “trail notes” are not always so easy to figure out. This can lead to great frustration with God—after all you only want to please him and make sure that you are walking along the right path. How could He leave you so blind? I hope this literal example of my mountain climb helps bring you some perspective on this very real, very human struggle.
Making the journey up the mountain, my friends and I had very little choice in methodology---the path was so steep that we literally had to focus ONLY on making the next best step, otherwise we would fall. So that’s what we did—step by slippery step we continued to climb. It was a question of mere survival. Although our focus was zeroed in on determining each step, we naturally made periodical glances up to the summit (ironically a cross) to ensure we were headed toward the goal. We did not know the path, but taking each immediate best step with the goal in mind, we were able to move forward with a certain peace, having trust that you are headed on the right path.
One more striking element of our literal climb was that we could not see the details of the path even if we tried. Again I see parallels to the story of my life… Nevertheless, every now and then we would realize that we had come to a breath-taking view—a glimpse of glory, so to speak. In those moments we became flooded with the joy of the journey and gained reassurance of the goodness of the path we were on, even though we couldn’t see where exactly it would lead.
After hours of our long, challenging, unpredictable ascent, we reached the summit. There, at the cross, we realized immediately why it was for our own good that we did not know the path details in advance—if we had known how long, windy, and steep the path was, we wouldn’t have even thought it possible to complete.
How much does this parallel the road-map of our lives?! The only way to really stay on the path it to focus purely on the immediate step ahead while keeping the goal in mind. Why is it that we think we can handle more? Maybe just like the path, discerning steps should be a matter of mere survival. When we try to look too far ahead we tend to fall and ultimately back-track. Maybe the journey could be defined by steady peace if we walked that way, with trust in our ultimate direction. Maybe the knowledge of the path’s details is more than that which we can handle and would paralyze us in self defeat. Maybe God is so good, and wants so badly for us to reach the goal (perfect harmony with Christ—eternal life here and now) that he’ll put up with our fits and complaints as he lovingly limits our line of vision to the immediate future.