"The most common word for mountain (har) appears no less than 520 times in the Hebrew Scriptures." - Beldon C. Lane, in his book The Solace of Fierce Landscapes: Exploring Desert and Mountain Spirituality
I heard God. I wasn't the only one either.
I was at a retreat in the mountains. I was there with hundreds of other men, but most importantly, I was there with God. I was there to hear from Him. To listen.
I'm tired of flirting with and being somewhat afraid of the belief that God wants to "direct my life directly". I've decided to err on the side of faith...the side of belief...the side of eccentricity, if you must...but I've decided to err on the side of believing that I can hear Jesus' voice. I did on the mountain.
Now, to be clear, I've believed that I can hear God's voice for a long, long time. But I've borrowed on old, momentous stories of my hearing from God in a loud and overt way for far too long. I am now expecting to hear from him daily. Jesus said, "My sheep hear my voice." I am his sheep. I can hear his voice. One thing that has helped me take this leap is the giving up of the idea that hearing his voice is strange or unusual or uncommon. I am starting to tune in to Christ's still, small voice.
The whole hearing from God thing is cool, but I was really wanting to write about mountains.
One of the questions that I was inspired to ask Christ at my retreat was "What have I let die?" Sort of under the idea that a man's deepest desires, passions, and loves are clues to God's abundant life that He has for him, this question is a powerful one. And as I was walking around the mountain we were on asking it sincerely, listening deeply, I heard two things: "basketball" and "mountain climbing".
"What? Basketball? Mountain Climbing?" My face was outwardly contorting as I said those words in my head to God. "Honestly, Jesus, I was expecting something a little more profound than that. A tad more spiritual, y'know? Is that the best you can do?" This quickly took me straight to skeptic-mode...making up in my head that I was making this stuff up in my head and attributing it to God.
But I beat down the skeptic and I went with it. "What do you mean, Jesus? What's behind this?" It wasn't a voice or a single thought this time, but more like scales dropping off of my eyes to where I could see something previously invisible to me about the way I was existing.
Pause. I need to tell you that for whatever reason, (possibly a combination of my personality, my desire to make a difference, my position as a minister, and my love and hope for needy people (read: all people)), I have a fairly non-stop stream of opportunity to invest in people's lives in a potentially transforming way. It's an overwhelming blessing, mind you, and has been God's instrument of simultaneously killing my ego-based identity and affirming my value to Him in advancing His Kingdom. Killing and affirming...that is God's way.
Okay...so it's important for you to know that to comprehend the power of this insight Christ gave me on the mountain. I live in fear that I could potentially be tired at any given moment based on the potential demands that could come at any given moment.
Shew!
Read that again and imagine living under that! The fruit of that kind of agreement would be a life a subtle nervousness, fear, and defensive-caution. The ever-present "I'm-not-right-now-but-I-might-be-overwhelmingly-busy-at-any-moment" thought can really cripple a guy's joy and peace, not to mention make him skip out on or just "let die" certain life-giving opportunities and activities because of the demands that MIGHT be right around the corner. In other words, living under that assumption brings death to the spirit and the heart.
I just can't tell you what it meant to me to get to see this. And dog-gone it if I'm smart enough to come up with an insight into myself like THAT! Dude, I can't even imagine a shrink helping me figuring that out after hours of sharing and counseling. How deeply it was ringing true, and and the sheer spontaneousness of it all, just confirmed to me that I was hearing from God, that I was right to err on the side of belief, and that I need to walk intimately with Him in the daily-ness of my life.
Letting him speak. Letting him reveal. Letting him lead. Letting him heal.
Having acknowledged this subtle lie, I felt a bounce in my step and the aches in my body (that I often used as excuses not to play basketball, by the way, just in case I need my health 'tomorrow') just went away! I was in the mountains, in much thinner air than I'm used to, but decided to go with some of the guys there at the retreat on our next break and play basketball. It felt great, I played great (by some very low standards, mind you), and I could've kept going when I was done.
A little bit later, I was out walking around the mountains again, and over some hills towards the West, I could see a few mountain peaks that were above the treeline. I stopped and stared and starting longing to go. I remembered the half dozen mountain-climbing trips I have been on in my life, and then I heard some beautiful words.
"Go back. Take Shade."
"Back where?" I asked.
Pause again. The day before I left for this retreat, I was cleaning my basement when my son Shade came downstairs with his buddy Zach and asked if he could show Zach the swords in my prayer room. As they were checking it out, they bring a cloth out that had an old antique chisel wrapped up in it, asking me what it was. Well, I said, that is a very old chisel that I found (twice...but that's another story) in the back of a very old mine dug a long time ago in the side of the mountains surrounding the Chicago Basin in the Weminuche Forest in Southwest Colorado.
This is the memory that came into my mind after I asked "Back where?"
I smiled. I smiled big. It would be just like anyone who would call themselves my Father to send me back to that very special place, and to do so with instructions to take my son, whom I love.
Just one more problem. It's pretty aggressive wilderness. It will involve a 500 mile drive, a 3-hour narrow gauge train ride into the mountains to the drop off point, and a 7-mile hike along fairly steep terrain. I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be going alone with my 8-year-old. So what father-son duo would want and be able to go with us, Lord?
I didn't know, but I have time to find out. I'm going. At the retreat was a good buddy of mine from Houston, who, after I told him what I felt like God told me, said he has been feeling the need to take his son (an old buddy of Shade's) on an adventure of some sort. I raised my eyebrows at him full of invitation. He politely said he didn't want to impose on our father-son-Father trip, but I told him I had no intention of going without someone capable of carrying me out if need be, and had JUST asked God who I should invite to go. Boom...we're going in July.
Was it Jesus? I don't know. Am I going to act as if it is? Absolutely. Why? Because I am going to err on the side of belief. On the side of life. On the side of faith. On the side of fun. On the side of joy. On the side of trust.
Trust. I think I heard a sermon by George MacDonald where he said that not trusting in God is atheism. I'm going to err on the side of trust, come what may.
In the Bible, lots and lots of stuff seemed to happen on the mountain. This certainly wouldn't be the first time God called his people to meet him out in the wild, away from the mainstream, up in high, marginal places in order for them to have a special encounter with Himself. And it's not all romance, beauty and idealism, either. It's dangerous, risky, sweaty, bloody, real life-and-death stuff that has at it's center the hard teaching, challenging, and re-orienting that comes from seeing the living God. It's a journey that does not cozy up with the idea that your comfort is God's primary goal. But his glory and your joy is...take it the bank.
Or to the mountain...whichever place he calls you to.
He's called me and my son to the mountain. Pray for our journey this July.
