Valleys

The other day, a friend and I went to Oak Mountain. It was amazing. The mountains were crying out to God—in a way that I could not at that point. As I listened to the wind in the leaves, I heard the earth applauding God for his splendor and glory. I have communed with nature before—but I have never felt as though I was having a worshipful experience—lead by God’s creation.

The climb up the mountain was beautiful—I was looking up, towards the peak. Granted, we were in the car, and not hiking, but all around me, I could see and hear the beauty that is God’s earth. But, again, I was constantly looking up—reaching for the apex of the mountain, knowing I would find solace there; knowing I would find communion.

As we left, I found myself absorbed with the scene around me as we drove down, down, down, down into the deep valley. As we got deeper, I found myself enamored with what I was seeing. I was seeing trees, flowers, animals, sky, clouds, leaves—just another manifestation of God’s beauty and majesty around me. It was gorgeous. It was dark, with light filtering through the branches, yet very clearly inhabited and life sustaining.

As we descended into the valley, I came to a realization—the valley is a beautiful place! In my life, I spend so much of my life looking up—looking for the peak, for the apex of this life season, that I don’t think about what I am seeing and what I can learn about God and his glory while I am in the valley.

I mentioned how beautiful I found the valley—that I never really thought of it as a beautiful place. My friend was, being an avid outdoorsman, floored, to say the least. ☺ He couldn’t believe that I hadn’t taken the time to see and live in the Valley.

As I look at my spiritual life, I realize that I live with that same philosophy. I am so anxious to get to the peak—to the top of the mountain so that I can be as close to God as I physically can. I forget that the valleys are just as important as the mountain peaks.

The valleys are where your character is molded and forged. The valleys are where your faith is tested and where you find out what you’re made of. You can’t reach the mountaintops if you don’t ever go through a valley.

Then, my mind is taken to the mountaintop, again. When we were up at the top of Oak Mountain, I looked down, and saw how beautifully God created the landscape around me. I saw how the character of the landscape was cut by God’s words—He spoke, and it was. But, without the valleys, the landscape is just… blah. There is no character, no beauty, and no breathtaking scenery.

As I am going through this next season of my life, I am realizing that I am coming out of the valley. But this time, as I come out of the valley, I am learning that while I need to be reaching for the top of the mountain, I also need to enjoy the valley as I am journeying through it. I need to find God’s majesty and light sprinkling down into the undergrowth of my sadness. I need to discover God’s sustenance in the darkest places. But most importantly, I need to remember that when I get to the top of the mountain, the view is so beautiful because of the valleys I went through to get there—not despite them.