On Moving Mountains

"The Abdication of Belief
Makes the Behaviour small"
Emily Dickinson

After a day of sea breezes, sunshine and gaping around in shopping malls, we are back on Cold Mountain. Over stimulated and foot-sore, we rolled down the windows as we finally turned off the R63 towards the place I now call home. Settlements in the Tyume valley at the foot of the mountain, are dappled with an eclectic array of huts, shacks, half-built houses. We see so many of their inhabitants day by day on the mountain, yet know so little of their lives. Each settlement has an identity, with names as diverse as the people that breathe there. Aukland, Binfield, Umbombo, Lushington... There is poverty there, but also a sense of dignity and a degree of contentment. Scatterings of goats and other livestock glare at us as we speed past. A woman carrying a bucket of water's skirt flutters in the icy wind and I pray silently that there is wood for her fire and some "nyama" for the pot.

With our peace threatened by the monotony of grey rainy days, plummeting temperatures, a skinny purse and frustrated little ones, I remember. Days when the skies were mostly clear, the sun baked the tar into blisters and my bank account was soaring. I witnessed this all from the double-glazed window of an air-conditioned office, looking down on an endless stream of traffic and more office buildings under smoggy clouds. I also remember that beyond this mist, lies a vista that takes your breath away. Most of all I remember that "Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1). These "little foxes" are insignificant compared to what we have already faced since we've come to this beautiful place. In the face of a storm that seems so huge and angry that you have no defence against it, we tend to bend our backs into it and pray. And then seem surprised when God answers! Doesn't He say "All things are possible to him who believes"? (Mark 9:23) I'd like to add, all things are possible to God, even if we do not believe. But with true faith and daily prayer, our lives can and will be transformed by miracles that won't only leave you breathless but humbled with awe.

We could be tempted to ascribe miracles to chance or good fortune, destiny. When our hearts falter after weeks, months of desperate prayer, met only with silence, do we also call that destiny? Or do we dig deeper, test ourselves against His living Word and then return to the cross to surrender once more. I thought long and hard to find an example in my own life that would do justice to the witness I would like to bear. Something not too personal, too painful or embarrassing to share. We just seem to live a miracle, where would I begin... Do I tell you in mind-boggling detail how, edging towards ominous "midlife", I conceived, carried and gave natural birth to two perfect boy babies? Or do I relate the trial by fire it took to move here and build our home in the "wilderness". How we were given an extended family when I asked for a friend. Faithful friends that have prayed with, provided for, battled and loved us back onto the road to wholeness. Maybe some time, as I am led, I may share these stories and many more. But for now I can "only" share the heart of the most important miracle of all. The pivot point that I was led up to and from which nothing could ever be the same again.

For many years I believed that true contentment was the result of spiritual, physical and mental well-being. All backed up by a substantial, secure income that would help ensure that most of these aspects are kept in balance. Why was my scale then still tipping back and forth, never finding this elusive balance? At first it was a niggle, an itch that no amount of scratching and distraction would ease. Finally, the longing for truth and true goodness would no longer go away, regardless of how I tried to fill this void. It was a sadly delayed process, having so much to distract, numb and fill my stunted senses with. I do not for a moment judge anyone who chooses to live the life we escaped from, it works for some, it just did not work for us.

So there we were, en route to "paradise", the long awaited dream about to enfold. One by one the "disasters" struck, and each time we had to dig a little deeper to keep on trusting that we were indeed "doing the right thing". We learnt anew to pray, surrender, hope and hardest of all, to wait. The waiting was hard, but rewarded without fail, the shadow of His wings always there. I thought we had finally found our balance. Then all at once, I found myself alone, facing a deep personal crisis; and there was an eerie silence from heaven. Or so I thought. In these desert days, I was taken back to a place that rocked my world. The foot of the cross. I looked up and saw another suffering face, hauntingly familiar, but filled with not only my pain, but the pain of every living soul in the universe. Something broke inside me and I sobbed and shook with the realisation of what my Saviour Jesus' death and resurrection really meant. So yes, thank God, I was spiritually, mentally, physically broken, but I new that God meant what He said with "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh" Ezekiel 36:26.

Now, one day at a time, He is truly "making all things new".  We're still here, in our piece of paradise, trying to live the forgiveness we were given and continue to receive each day. The mountains are visible again, even though with faith as small as a mustard seed, we could tell them to move and they would! (Heaven forbid). Another small miracle is unfolding as I write. At the bottom of our property, a hefty man is digging a hole for a pole (with another watching in the shade...). In due course a few more will follow, and finally a wire that will give us the long awaited land line will be connected. This should not take long, since Luke is there, his feet shod in bright red gumboots, digging with his little spade, making their work "light". So when the skies grow dark, another storm threatens and the foxes nudge at our gate; I water that mustard seed, hope for what is yet unseen and BELIEVE.

Matthew 17:20 ... "I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain: Move from here to there, and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you".