When people ask me how I’m doing, and I respond with the ubiquitous “I’m good,” it means more now than it ever has. It’s not that up until recently I made the decision to lie when I said I was good. Not always, at least. I just didn’t know how much better my good could be. The past few months and years I’ve been fighting to find the joy of the Lord, and the strength that comes with it. More than anything, I’ve been seeking His peace. There were beliefs about myself and doubts about Him that I had to contend with and settle in order to receive that which I craved more than anything else. This change was gradual and sudden, easy and difficult. I made the decision to seek, and yet I was surprised at what I found. The two metaphors I’ve adopted are that of the mountains and the tree. I see them as two sides of the same coin.
There are moments we can experience in our lives when we come to the awareness of something great, awesome and profound. When we’ve finally arrived at a destination we’ve had our sights set on for some time. We can have such an encounter with a beautiful wilderness, or a beautiful work made by human hands, an experience of such deep joy, peace, love. Such things are a shot to the heart, one that pierces past our own darkness and blindness, breaks past our hearts of stone, and touches our souls. There are moments in our lives that dramatically change us. After ascending a mountain, there comes the time we arrive at a summit.
There are times in which the lessons we have been learning all along the way finally sink in. Sometimes it is a dramatic revelation. Others it is a quiet sigh of relief: thank God I don’t have to believe that anymore. In any case, these realizations shift our paradigm, how we see ourselves, the world, and our place within it. There are the lessons of youth: don’t touch a hot stove, and look both ways before you cross the street. These are the fruit of a magnificent fruit tree that a child collects with ease. There are fruits above it: my parents can be trusted and respected, and cars on the road can hurt you, or kill you. Still above it are these fruits: sometimes my parents and my elders know better than I do, even when I don’t think so, and it is not someone else’s responsibility to keep me safe, I must keep my wits about me. There are the simple lessons, the sweet berries of youth that color your fingers and lips with red, purple and blue. There are the lessons of a lifetime that tower above them, beckoning us towards them. The examples I shared reflect the lessons I learned, but it may not reflect yours. Perhaps your caregivers proved themselves to be absent, unreliable, or even volatile and dangerous. Other lessons had to be learned to ensure survival. This doesn’t change the fact that there is a tree still to be scaled, and good and healthy lessons to be learned.
These are the mountains, and this is the tree. I could go into detail to describe fruit I’ve harvested, and the summits I’ve climbed, and the views I’ve seen endeavoring for both. I don’t think this would accomplish what I hope it would. This isn’t really about me. All these words are an attempt to convey a few things I’ve learned and am learning still. This is actually about you, about all of us.
It is our duty and task to remember the summit and the lowlands, the fruit and the branches and boughs we traversed to reach them. These are the monuments of our lives that we can return to if only we remember them. These moments are a focal point. They are reminders of the fact that life, that existence is bigger than our subjective experience of the world. It is more than “I”. Our remembrance can bring to our awareness the fact that God was there all along, and is here still.
All along the way to these grand summits and realizations are the moments of the everyday - the “mundane”. Every moment can be a time and place in which we remember that there is more to life than us as the subject of it. Within every moment we can find the footholds that will help us scale the mountain to a new encounter, or the branches to a new realization.
There are the jagged wastelands, and soured fruits hanging from broken tree limbs. These moments, they can be painful, present reminders of past loss, wrongdoings, and trauma. Although they can never be forgotten, with the help of the right professional, they can be transformed. They can loosen the hold they have on our lives. As you endeavor towards healing, you are moving closer to God, the restorer of our souls.
There is so much we have to offer, so much experience that we have been given, and to whom much is given, much is required (Luke 12:48). All that is really required is to share what we’ve learned, letting our lives speak for themselves. Our witness and our lives are the gift we give to the world as we remember. These moments are not for us alone. They are to bolster our spirits, enliven our inner courage and help us to be the people we’re meant to be in the world. This is all in order to shape our unique witness in the world. Our remembrance is what unearths the richness, the goodness that undergirds all that we’ve experienced. We only have to tolerate a bit of muck.
There are the mountains and there is the tree. The higher reaches of these that feel impossible now can be ascended in time, through effort, and with patience. There will be times where it feels as though the journey has reached its apex, and the lesson learned is the greatest you will find. It may feel like you’ve peaked, and that it's all downhill from here. Trust and know that there is more to taste and see. You may arrive, but never get there. The journey is lifelong, and as intimidating as that sounds, that’s actually the saving grace of it. It’s never too late to trek the heights of the mountain, or the tree, nor it is too late to remember how far you’ve come, and recall the sweetest lessons of your life. Keep ascending the mountains, journey through the lowlands. Scale the tree and gather the fruits that you can. Learn to love the views. Enjoy the journey for its own sake. You are not alone in it. See the good in all of it, the opportunity. I pray that you see and know that God is with you in it all.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.