Mountain Highs and Valley Lows
It was another Saturday morning, just like any other. I was up earlier than my kids, my body adjusted to the routine of getting up every day at 6am for work. But because it was Saturday, my kids got to sleep in, while I processed the silence.
I took my dog down the stairs, and let him out. I removed the coffee filter from yesterday’s coffee and began a new pot. When it was finished brewing, I sat outside in the misty Spring air, with my dog by my side and a mug of coffee in my hands. My heart heavy as I tried to make sense of my week.
The week after Spring Break is the hardest for us teachers. Kids don’t want to be there after a week of playing in the sun and having all the time in the world to do as they please. Spring Break is a tease of what is to come - 3 months of Summer! So when Monday hits, no one is really happy about it, and us teachers are just holding on until the middle of June. With checked out students and exhausted teachers, we press on to the end of the school year. Day after day preparing lessons we hope to get through with content we hope they learn. Some days are successful, and others simply aren’t, so you have to learn to roll with.
But in addition to that, I got a phone call I wasn’t expecting. Halfway through my third period class, my phone rings, and it is one of my older children. “Mom, I’m in trouble. I need you to come with me to the police station.” My heart stopped. Police station? What was going on? How could this be? Just a few weeks ago I was bragging about how successful this child was and how proud I was of the direction they were going - and now I was needed at the police station? It's not exactly words any mother wants to hear, and yet I heard it again: “I’m in trouble, and the police want me to come in for questioning.” I hung up the phone with an intense, “Don’t do anything until I call you back during prep. I’m in class,” and then continued on with my lesson on prepositions and nouns.
What in the world just happened?
The last 15 months of my life had been a crazy ride of getting me and my children out of a 22 year domestic violence marriage and resettling. Then, just as I was thinking I was on the mountain top and able to breath, I got hurt at work and was out for three weeks. My symptoms became ongoing - a permanent litany of doctors appointments and my head constantly feeling locked in a vice. Ringing in my ears piercing any silence that I may long for. I still cry as I learn to accept that this might just be my new normal. Debilitated from things I used to be able to do. Forced to think differently about the activities I can and cannot do least I make things worse for myself.
And now THIS?
I remember a few years back after a different family tragedy - another phone call that changed my life - a dear friend said, “Man, your life is like a country music song!” And a few days ago I was just texting my best friend about how my life seems like one endless Greek tragedy - always trying to stay ahead of fate, but never able to. You just want a break from the hardship. From the tragedy. From the frustration of getting knocked down again, and again, and again.
So, there I was. Saturday. Quiet. Trying to figure out what is the next step. Trying not to let the tears fall in an unwanted pity party that I desperately wanted to throw for myself. The truth is my heart was angry. WHY? Why can’t I just get a break? Why can’t my kid just go off to college, make good grades, graduate and lead a successful normal life? Why can’t I just work ONE job instead of two and hustling for a third in the summer to provide for my family? Why can’t these students just sit in a chair and pay attention without throwing markers and stealing each others’ crocs? Why am I going nowhere?
Well, for me. When things are difficult, I have a tendency to go back to my Bible. When I have nowhere else to go, I go back to Jesus. It’s sad that He isn’t usually my first stop on the “I don’t know what to do” road, but it’s true. I prefer to try and figure things out myself, and then IF I can’t, I figure maybe the Bible can help me out! I wish it were the other way around, but I think if we are honest, most of us are like that. Something comes up and we just try to deal with it. We try to make sense of it and then make a plan.
But who really plans for the “I’m getting arrested” phone call? Or a basketball to the face? Or to be escorted away from your home with your kids because your husband went crazy and you weren’t physically safe anymore?
No one does. And when it does, you just try to figure it out, but sometimes it’s just TOO MUCH.
The Lord has recently been putting in on my heart to study Deuteronomy. After this incredible exodus flight out of my marriage, and seeing how God showed up, fought for me and my children, and then brought us to safety where we currently are, I figured I was out of Egypt and life was going to be great! And indeed they are - but they certainly aren’t perfect.
After the Exodus, after the Israelites walked through the Red Sea on dry land and saw the Egyptian Army washed away - they rejoiced and sang “You will bring them and plant them in the mountain of Your inheritance, the place, O Lord, which You have made for Your dwelling…the Lord shall reign forever and ever” (Exodus 15:17-18, NASB). Yes - we will LIVE on the mountain top! Protected. Safe. Forever with all the goodness of God where nothing horrible can come against us! From my perspective, I was finally living on the mountain top!
Flash forward ten verses, and we read: “all the congregation of the sons of Israel came to the wilderness of Sin…the whole congregation of the sons of Israel grumbled against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness” (Exodus 16: 1-2 NASB). How quickly did the Israelites realize - um, this isn’t exactly what we thought our life would look like? What happened to the “mountain of Your inheritance”? Instead, here we find ourselves in a desert - without water, far from the comforts of what we knew, and we’re frustrated and confused.
That’s me! And I bet it’s been you, too. Life didn’t quite go the way you thought it would. The victory wasn’t as sweet. The road, not as smooth. The pace, not fast enough. Yes - you’re not where you were - but now you’re not where you thought you’d be. Your kids aren’t making the best choices. Your job isn’t as satisfying. Your bills are mounting, as is your frustration - and so, we grumble. We grumble in our hearts. We grumble to our friends. We grumble on social media as we try to figure it out. You wonder - what happened to the “mountain of Your inheritance”, my mountain top experience? Where did it go?
We will probably never see something like what Israel did - a sea physically parting, and then walking through on dry land. We usually talk about that “story” in more of a figurative sense today even though it was an actual physical event, but I know God has moved on my behalf in great and mighty ways. And I bet, if you look back on your life, you can see those “Red Sea moments” and the incredible recognition of God’s deliverance and protection over you. The thing is, we can’t “live” in those moments, but we CAN live in God’s continued presence. Exodus 16:9, Moses writes, “Come near before the Lord, for He has heard your grumblings”. But he doesn’t stop there, he continues: “they looked towards the wilderness, and BEHOLD, the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud” (v. 10).
I sit here this morning, the house is starting to stir. We have Lacrosse games, tennis lessons, horseback riding, swim team practice, karate, and a birthday party today. I have three loads of laundry sitting on my couch and a sink full of dishes I was too tired to wash last night. And in the midst of it all, in my frustration and my grumbling, God simply says “Look out into the wilderness - you will see ME”. The God of the mountain experiences is the same God of the valley ones, too. His Word tells me and you, that He will never leave us nor forsake us (Deut. 31:8). Then he provided quail and manna FROM THE SKY!
We cannot live in the mountain of His inheritance on this side of heaven because life is full of valley experiences, but if we look out past the wilderness, He will reveal Himself to us, and “You shall know that I am the Lord your God” (Exodus 16:12). Through the tears, we will know. I will know.
He.
Is.
God.
