A quarter til one Meg’s screaming pierced the quietness and killed my hope of a good nights sleep. The first thought through my mind was she fell out of bed. She wasn’t on the floor though when I went in her room. She was sitting up holding her head in her hands. Her eyes huge and tear filled turned toward me and the screaming turned to words, “It hurts.”
I held her until she fell back to sleep and tried to sleep myself. Hearing her whimpers across the hall made the night drag on. I couldn’t wait til morning.
Until it came.
For hours Meg carried on crying, not knowing what she wanted, and not wanting anyone or thing.
As she did, I wondered what it was I had been looking forward to. Much like Meg, I didn’t know, but I knew it wasn’t this.
At dinner Meg started smiling and laughing. I just sat and watched her for a while, it was so good to see her happy. It hurt knowing it wasn’t going to last, but it gave us something to hold onto and hope for again.
Oswald Chambers wrote, “When you are on the mountaintop, it’s easy to say, ‘Oh yes, I believe God can do it,’ but you have to come down from the mountain to the demon-possessed valley and face the realities that scoff at your Mount-of-Transfiguration belief. Every time my theology becomes clear to my own mind, I encounter something that contradicts it. As soon as I say, ‘I believe God shall supply all my need,’ the testing of my faith begins.”
I used to think the mountaintop and valleys were seasons in life…but days like today show me it can be moment to moment.
Circumstances try to prove they are harder than they feel when I’m talking to Jesus. They contradict and make me question if I really know what I’m believing. If I know what God’s doing. And the truth is I have no idea what He's doing. It may not have so much to do with the valleys and mountaintops we’re on…maybe it’s the moment to moment, the walking with God in the here and now, wherever it may be, which truly matters.