Month: June 2023

TADB 112: Discovering God in the Mountain Meadow

Years ago, my wife and I went on an ATV trip in mid-July, negotiating part of the Alpine Loop in southwestern Colorado.  The trail was challenging but not dangerous.  Working our way over the rocks and ruts, we steadily climbed above the tree line at about 12,000 feet.  There the trail leveled off and we arrived at our planned destination. 

Looking off to our left, nestled between the mountain peaks, was a lovely alpine meadow called the American Basin.  We were told about its beauty, and we were not disappointed.  The meadow bloomed with wildflowers and a stream, fed by the runoff from the snow still on the peaks ahead, gently flowed through it.   Crossing the creek to get further into the meadow, we looked up on the distant peaks and saw a prospector with his pack mule slowly making his way up a twisting trail far in the distance.

It was a place of tranquil beauty unspoiled by noisy people, picnic tables or manufactured objects.  Once we shut off our ATVs, the only sound was that of the creek as it made its way over the rocks.  It was a moment of peace.  Resting from the effort of our climb, we soaked in the solitude and natural beauty displayed around us.  We even took a few moments to dream of living in the meadow.  We could picture a small log cabin in the middle of the flowers, smoke lazily drifting from the fireplace as we sat in rocking chairs on the front porch, sipping our mugs of coffee and gazing at the distant mountains.  However, afternoon storms are typical at this season and elevation, so we knew we could not stay long.  We needed to head back down below the tree line before it arrived.

Dreaming is enjoyable, but the reality is even Alpine meadows do not continuously bloom with flowers.  After a few short months of spring and summer, winter sets in and no one would be sitting on the front porch of their cabin.  It is the same with life’s meadows.  They are a welcome part of our life journey but are usually brief.  They give us a moment of awe and wonder, a glimpse of something not yet, a taste of what we lost back in the first chapters of Genesis, and a hope of what will be restored at the coming of our King.  Then the meadows are gone and a new landscape of life arrives. 

Mt. Meadow Landscape

My picture of life’s meadows is like the Alpine American Basin filled with wildflowers, soft sunshine, peace, and quiet with no freeways, skyscrapers, or congestion.   The air is clear, the temperature warm, and the humidity low.  But that is just me.  You may have a different picture and that is OK.  Paint your own equivalent landscape as we take a moment to travel through the “mountain meadow landscape”.

Life’s mountain meadows are places for spiritual, emotional, and physical refreshment.  They are places where we have a sense of “it doesn’t get any better than this” – at least not this side of heaven.  There is not only the presence of beauty but the absence of what is unpleasant.  We are at peace; joy is felt but hard to express (1 Peter 1:6-8).  But as wonderful as it is, we usually will not spend much time in the meadow before moving on.  Of all the landscapes, our stay in this one seems disappointingly brief.

The cosmos

Several mountain meadows come to mind as I think through the biblical storyline.  The Psalmist shares a mountain meadow moment in Psalms 8.

When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, The moon and the stars, which You have set in place; What is man that You think of him, And a son of man that You are concerned about him?  Yet You have made him a little lower than God, And You crown him with glory and majesty!  You have him rule over the works of Your hands; You have put everything under his feet, All sheep and oxen, And also the animals of the field, The birds of the sky, and the fish of the sea, Whatever passes through the paths of the seas.  LORD, our Lord, How majestic is Your name in all the earth!  (Psalm 8:3-9)

For the Psalmist, creation stirred awe in his heart with humble gratitude … as it should for us.

The Transfiguration

Jesus took three original disciples to a “high mountain” where he was transfigured before them (Matt. 17:1+).  We are told that his garments became “radiant and exceedingly white,” Elijah and Moses appeared, dialoguing with Jesus, and a voice is heard from heaven saying, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well-pleased; listen to him.”  It had to be a “wow” moment for those three Hebrew men.

Peter’s response was (my paraphrase), “It does not get any better than this!  Let’s set up camp and stay for a while.”  But the meadow was only a short respite.  Descending the mountain meadow, they were quickly back on the battlefield, encountering a man with a lunatic son and nine frustrated disciples.

The Emmaus Road

Christ’s post-resurrection appearance to Cleopas and his friend as they walked on the road to Emmaus was another mountain meadow.  For a short time, these men were in the presence of the risen Christ as he explained the historical narrative of the gospel message.  As evening approached, they wanted to linger in the meadow, urging this stranger to stay longer.  But after dinner, he left.  Having finally recognized the stranger as Christ, they returned to their ordinary lives with the reflection, “Were not our hearts burning within us?” (The good kind of heartburn).

Mary experienced a mountain meadow when Christ came to visit her and Martha.  Time flew by as she sat at his feet, listening to his words.  On the other hand, Martha missed it with her preoccupation with responsibility and duty.  Jesus’ gentile rebuke to Martha was over her choice not to spend a moment in the meadow (Luke 10:38-42).

Over 5,000 people had a meadow experience one day as they sat on the hillside listening to Jesus teach about the kingdom.  Their hearts were touched, and their sick were healed; time flew by.  In the meadow, they forgot about their hunger until the disciples finally brought it up.  The day ended with a surprise dinner and enough food for a “to-go” box.  Like all mountain meadows, it did not last long, but I can imagine they talked about it for a long time. 

God shows up

In the mountain meadow, God often appears as our Good Shepherd, leading us into green pastures.  “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters.  He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness For His name’s sake” (Psalm 23:1-3).  In the meadow, the Good Shepherd restores our souls and refreshes our spirits.

He may also show up as the grand Creator, God Almighty, El Elohim, the One who does above and beyond what we could ask or think (Ephesians 3:20).   In the meadow, we are overwhelmed by his grace and love and our unworthiness of it.

Response

In the landscape of the meadow, we feel a unique sense of joy and contentment.  It may not be in the total absence of conflict, but it is like an oasis in the desert, a moment when nothing else matters.  We feel a sense of joy and tranquility, the temporary absence of conflict, anxiety, and adversity, a moment we would like to stay in forever.  In the mountain meadow, we experience a moment of rest, joy, and happiness that dominates all other landscapes.

We need to be careful not to miss the meadow moments in which we learn to rest, relax, and take a deep breath.  In those times, praise and thanksgiving flow naturally and spontaneously as we experience God’s greatness and recognize our own personal inadequacy.  It is a time in which we can exchange our hurried agendas for a look around at the meadow, enjoying it to the fullest. 

Jesus had the mountain meadow in mind when he said, “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.  Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart; and you shall find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29).

Here is a quick summary of the landscapes we have considered so far:

LandscapeAffect I feel……God’s touch God is my….Our response I need to……Scripture
Stormshelpless, fear, overwhelmedDeliverer, Anchor, Shelter, Sustainerhold on, wait, hopeIsa. 25:4; Matt.  7:24+ Ps. 107:28-32; Ecc. 11:5 Isa. 64:4
Battlefieldsthreatened, fear, vulnerableFortress, Defender, Protector, Shieldfight, armor up, flee,Eph. 2:2-3, 6:13; Jam. 4:7 1 Peter 5:8; Matt. 4:1-11
Thorn Countrytrapped, fear, guilt, weak, hopelessProvider, El Shaddai, All-Sufficient Onewait, remember, hope, be content2 Cor. 12:7+; Jn. 13:7 Jn. 19:5
Mountain Meadowshumbled, contentment joy, awe, wonderCreator, Shepherd,  praise, express gratitude, restPsa. 8; 145, Matt.  11:28-29

For Reflection:

1.  Describe a time when you felt you were in a mountain meadow of life.

2.  In what other ways does God show up in the meadow?

TADB 111: Discovering God in Thorn Country

When my wife and I moved our family to Kansas City, we bought six acres of neglected land and built a house.  With decades of negligence, the acreage was a forest of six-foot Canadian thistles, hedge trees, and thorny locusts.  For the first two years we lived there, I spent every free moment cutting, hauling, piling, and burning thorns.  Even after the trees were all burned, the thorns remained in the soil for years puncturing mower tires and tennis shoes.  

A thorn does not have to be big to be painful.  My dislike of locust trees increased when I discovered their thorns have a tiny tip that comes off when it punctures your skin and stays embedded even after removing the thorn.  So, although I could not see it, I could still feel it.  Thorns are downright painful!

One of life’s landscapes we will likely travel through is what I will call thorn country.  I define thorn country as the landscape where we encounter painful conditions that are long-term, even permanent (the word chronic comes to mind).  It’s the landscape where we believe God can and will deliver, but he does not.

The Apostle Paul introduces us to thorn country in 2 Corinthians 12.  His thorn was a physical condition from which he wanted relief.  It was probably painful, debilitating, annoying, and frustratingly detrimental to his gospel mission.  Yet each time Paul prayed for deliverance, God denied his request and told him (my paraphrase), “Learn to live with it.” He saw God heal others but not himself.  Paul’s thorn became his new normal.

We experience thorn country when our pain becomes, as far as we can tell, permanent.  So it is when the doctor explains you will never be able to bear children; the cancer is inoperable; your new baby is born with Downs Syndrome; your wife dies in a car crash. 

Growing up, my dad was a machinist by trade.  One night as he was setting up a 2-ton metal stamping press, his shoulder hit the release button, sending the 2-ton press smashing down on both hands.  In the operating room, the surgeons worked.  In the waiting room, family and friends prayed.  Finally, after long, anxious hours, the doctor announced that he could save Dad’s left hand but not his right; it had to be amputated.  Welcome to thorn country.

A diving accident leaves a teenage girl unable to move.  Hopefully, it is only temporary.  Surely, skilled care, physical therapy, and constant prayers of faith will make a difference.  But it does not.  Joni Ericksen has just entered the thorn country known as quadriplegia.

A young couple sits together in the maternity room, basking in the glow of their recently born son, their first.  Then, unexpectantly, the pediatrician enters the room and soberly announces their son is having difficulty breathing.  He says they have checked the baby’s heart and lungs, and both are fine; he suspects there is a problem with the brain.  But, although stabilized for now, he explains, their son will need transporting to an intensive neonatal care unit at a different hospital. 

Friends and family are told and form a prayer covering.  After a few weeks of observation and care, the couple can finally take their son home.  Everything looks fine.  But it is not.  Over the following months, it becomes evident that their son is developmentally delayed, but maybe he will catch up.  Pediatricians say he is just a slow starter.  The parents hope—more prayer.   

Looking for answers, they contact a family friend who is a doctor.  After examining the medical birth records, he concludes: “Your son suffered significantly low levels of oxygen and blood sugar during the birth process, which can only result in significant brain damage.  Your son is not just delayed; he will be seriously mentally and physically disabled.”  Welcome to thorn country.

As King Nebuchadnezzar throws three Hebrew men into his fiery furnace for not worshipping his idol, they make a bold proclamation.  They believe their God can deliver them from the furnace, but they will still worship only him even if he chooses not to.  Thorn country is all about the “but if nots” in life.   Interestingly, among the Hebrews 11 Hall of Faith heroes is an extensive list of “but if nots.”

How do we respond when living in thorn country?  It often begins with a feeling of abandonment.  “Why does God not show up?”  After all, have we not been asking, seeking, and knocking (Matthew 7:7-8)?  The reality is that in thorn country, we can easily…

  • wonder if we have enough faith.
  • feel a sense of guilt that we are being punished.
  • rehearse a series of “what ifs.”
  • fear the future.

In 2 Corinthians 12, Paul shares what he learned in thorn country.  “Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away.  Each time he said, ‘My grace is all you need.  My power works best in weakness’.  So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me…. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:8-10).  Paul’s understanding of God’s grace is greatly expanded in thorn country. 

As in all of life’s landscapes, God will “show up” in our thorn country, but perhaps not in the way we want.  He may decide to deliver us through rather than out of our circumstances for us to discover that his grace is all we need.  It is in thorn country where we gain an understanding of El Shaddai:  the “All-Sufficient One,” the “God Who is more than enough.”  

In thorn country, grace is a daily need and a promised provision.  God’s grace in thorn country is not for the “what ifs” of the past or desires for the future.  God’s grace is promised and experienced only in the moment.  And when tomorrow comes, grace will be waiting to meet us.

For reflection

1.  If you have ever been in thorn country, how did you feel?

2.  How do you respond to the statement, “God’s grace is sufficient for the present, but not for the past or future.”