A Drive Through The Mountains

N

orth Carolina is a wonderful place. I don’t say that simply because it is my home state and I don’t mean to detract from any other state.  But you have to go with what you know and I know North Carolina.  Our home is in the western part of the state, not too far from the Blue Ridge Mountains.  During the fall of the year, a drive through the mountains is breathtaking.  At every turn it looks as if an artist stood on top of the mountains and threw paint all around.  Shades of yellow, orange, and red dot the landscape, turning it into a veritable smorgasbord for the eye and spirit.

I remember one summer trip to the mountains with my brother, my parents, and my grandmother.  We decided to get away from the routine of every-day-life and visit the mountains for a picnic and a chance to recharge our batteries.  The day was wonderful.  The sky was a deep blue, the air was warm with a gentle breeze, and the temperature was just right.  Everything about the day was memorable, especially the ride into the mountains.

My brother, my grandmother, and I were in the backseat of the car.  The ride to the mountains was very uneventful.  Traffic flowed very well and there were no construction crews or delays to stop the steady flow of cars heading for the highlands.  However, when we entered the mountains, our venture became an adventure.  If you’ve ever driven in the mountains, you know you simply cannot drive straight up the side.  You have to drive around the mountain, up and down steep grades, and into and out of valleys on your way to the top.  This can provide for some very interesting backseat acrobatics.

My brother, grandmother, and I were the acrobats.  As daddy drove around curves, the three of us were thrown together in all types of configurations.  Sometimes I was on my grandmother’s lap, sometimes she was on mine, and sometimes my poor brother ended up on the bottom of the pile.  We were slammed against one side of the car only to be catapulted to the other as my dad followed the next curve which happened to be in the opposite direction.  As we continued our “peaceful” assault on the mountain’s side, something spilled in the backseat and its effects were readily detectable in the car.  What spilled were our collective “tickle boxes.”  The ride up the mountain became so comical with all its twists and turns.  Every time we were thrown against each other or against the side of the car, we exploded into a roar of laughter.  We were physically exhausted when we reached the top, not so much from the curves but from laughing so hard.  It was a wonderful trip!

This story has been told and retold in my family for years and every time we tell it, we all remember the laughter we had as we climbed the mountain.  I want to concentrate on this very incident for our devotion this morning.  If you think about it, my family that day was in a valley.  It is impossible to climb up a mountain unless one begins lower in the valley.  In fact, mountains cannot exist without valleys.  When the mountains push toward the heavens they necessarily create low places, valleys, between them. Therefore, in order to experience any mountain’s summit and gaze from its top, you must pass through a valley.

The most famous valley in the whole of the Scriptures just might be the one David wrote about in Psalm 23:4, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” The valley of death is something we must all walk through but this valley is not something we must wait for; we are in it right now.  Everyday, our bodies die just a little bit more than the day before.  When a baby is born, its body begins to die at the very moment of birth and the process continues throughout its life.  However, everyone knows the baby to be alive and looks forward to a long life and future for this child.  It will be a life filled with happiness, joy, laughter, and some tears but what a wonderful road lies ahead for this newborn.

The most encouraging word in this passage is the word through.  God does not intend for us to set up camp in the valley.  We are not meant to live in the lowlands of the mountains but we must pass through them.  Passing through means we are making progress and always climbing upward even when we are in the valley.  Stopping to camp, however, means we have no intention and no desire to experience the mountaintop.  This is tragic! Unless we determine to pass through the valley and climb the mountain on the other side, we will never know the full joy of God’s provision, protection, and salvation for our lives.  We never go through the valley alone; the shepherd always goes with us.

A

re you in the valley today?  Hitch up your backpack, tighten your grip on your walking stick, dig your heels in a little deeper, and keep on going.  The mountain is waiting on you to take it and take it you can.  As one man quoted about his experience in the lowlands, “I’m not in the valley, I’m just between mountains!”  Can you say this today?