Let Me Not Wander (Yes to the Mountain)

I know I just updated my blog. And maybe you’re wondering if I just like the sound of my own voice…perhaps I do. But, this is actually the post I should have written in the first place. Get ready for some truth, some ugly vulnerability and a whole lot of undeserved grace.

This is saying “yes”.

This is saying I hope you’re like me.

I hope you’re something of a mess.

I hope, that I’m not alone, in being flawed. Because how lonely would that be?

And while we know that we are not the only sinners, or stumblers or wanderers, some days, it feels that way, doesn’t it?

This isn’t a post about moving to Ukraine. I’m not going to tell you to pack your things, hop on a plane to a far away place and live a minimal life. This is much harder than that. We all have a mountain, to others, my mountain may look flatter than the plains of Missouri that I left behind. But to each of us, we have our own mountain, with its own name and slippery slope.

A lot of people tell me how faithful I am to say “yes” to God even all the way to Ukraine. Moving across the world was not my mountain. Saying yes when I’m tired, crabby, hurt and/or annoyed, that is my mountain.

Let me tell you personally…I am not the one you need to set as an example to follow. Or someone you should look to as a faithful servant of God. Jonah boarding the ship to hide from God and David slaying his mistress’ husband are infinitely better examples.

My prayer to God this morning is like this, “Father God, I will stumble the entire way there, but if you keep asking me to go, I will go.”

I WILL stumble, not if, not when, not possibly. I prayed this morning for my stumbling because I already feel called to “go” again. And I am already stumbling through. I am already second guessing, doubting, filling with fear. I’m already planning escape routes. I’m saying yes with my lips and yet I feel my heart teetering on the decision daily. I’m packing my gear, standing at the base of the mountain and looking for a pathway away from it. I’m watching my faith flounder and flail over an area that I have told God many times can be His.

Saying yes to our mountain is hard. That’s why it’s a mountain.

Saying yes is what we’re told to do.

Saying yes one time feels like enough.

But saying yes is opening one door into a short hallway that leads to another door and another and another. Saying yes doesn’t stop.

I am selfish. I am so, sinfully selfish. I am so painfully, selfish. I know, you think I’m just saying that. Or maybe when people say they are selfish you think that their version of selfishness is nothing in comparison to your own. That their “mountain” of selfishness is a flat plain while yours is Everest.

I’m selfish. I want. I desire. I pray for things I don’t need. I question God for why and how things have to be done. I’m selfish.

I promised God I would start saying yes to pain. Yes to brokenness when I see it. Yes to needs that I can meet or pray with. Yes to those who ask and those who don’t ask. Yes to the very simplest of needs in my community.

But what have I done, but hesitate. Hesitate until the moment passes sometimes. Hesitate and look the other way. Hesitate and hope that God will ask someone else. I have been so utterly human.

So I keep praying, Psalm 119:10 (ESV

“With my whole heart I seek you, let me not wander from your commandments!”

God is not calling me to another country or a weird new life. He’s calling me to “go” into my community and say yes to people. People who maybe I don’t trust or don’t deserve it in our eyes. People who have hurt me or hurt others. People who I have to pray through meeting with.

And I remember how much praying Jesus did just to be with me. How much saying yes cost Him. I remember how he described how unexcited he was to say yes. How Mark records that Jesus said,

“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.” (Mark 14:34)

To the point of death. And still he said yes. In the ultimate sacrifice and the daily one.

How much of His precious time was sacrificed to say yes and serve others?

How much do I really deserve his blood spilled out for me? I don’t.

And still, how do I still find myself selfishly hoping not to encounter these moments of God asking me to lean in. To say yes to the beggar, yes to the widow, the orphan, the drunk from down the street.

My God knows me. He knows how often I fight against His prompting, he knows the paths I wander down. He knows how often I crumple His blessings and toss them aside, just to come back, tail between my legs, flatten them out and trust in them. My God knows what a failure I am, and he keeps calling me child. Child. He calls me child and says the kingdom of heaven belongs to children. Child.

My God keeps pulling me nearer as I struggle and attempt to wander away. He keeps saying “hold on, I’m not letting you go” he keeps saying he’s about to move. And with His movement the devil gets scared and stirred and he’s trying to create a storm as well. In my weakness i let the spirit of fear overcome me, forget the Holy Spirit that resides in me and try to walk away. Because I know saying yes to one will bring another and yet another. But my God keeps prodding me to say yes. Just yes to being held. Just yes to leaning into him. Yes to his people, yes to the hurt.Not packing my things and moving or dying on the cross, no. Just say yes Haley, lean on Him. Climb your mountain.