When Mountains Don’t Move

I don’t believe it’s possible to go through life without challenges that test faith.  Life brings both beauty and tragedy, while we ride the periods in between.  We have those emotional highs of the simple, beautiful days, but the defining moments of character come during the tragedies and hard times.

These periods help us see what’s really inside our hearts–how deeply that ebb and flow really pump.  During difficult times, we decide:   Take the easy way and just survive? Become bitter? Grow and use the tragedy as fuel?  Regardless of the circumstances that may be out of our control, the response is, indeed, a choice.  I choose to grow.

The Bible tells me that faith can move mountains, and I believe it.  I strive to be a woman of deep spirituality and strong faith.  I try to find the silver lining and the Bible verse for every situation.  I see everything as an opportunity to learn and grow, even during the painful moments.

Though I do have deep reserves of faith, there are days or brief periods of time when feelings and events challenge my viewpoint.  These are the times when the mountain just won’t move.  This shakes my faith a bit, and the frustration gets to me.

Being a single, working mother makes life especially hard.  Single moms can relate to my viewpoint.  Everything falls on my shoulders, and I’m extremely hard on myself to get things accomplished.  In my mind, I believe I’m some kind of invincible Superwoman who can juggle the responsibilities of motherhood and work, all while enjoying hobbies, adventures, and time with friends.  When the stress is a bit too much, no problem, I run it off.  Or I did until injury prevented me from that release.

It’s amazing how simple, minutely stressful things can quickly add up to a mountain of stress when there’s no proper outlet.  I’m not even sure I realized how much running kept me calm until I couldn’t run.  It seemed like everything else in my life, then, began to happen backwards and sideways.  Isn’t it just the nature of the universe to throw not just one, but a dozen more things at once?

All these burdens of “if it could go wrong, it did” just piled on until the weight became a bit too heavy, even for a Superwoman.  Finally, even I, woman of deep spirituality, began to wonder if God was listening to my prayers.  My faith found itself on strangely shaky ground.  When I would give friends or family a motivational message or verse of faith, this foreign feeling of doubt began to shadow around the edges of my heart.  Did I believe what I was telling them about holding on and trusting in God’s word and promise when He didn’t seem to be holding on to me?

“God?  It’s me again.  Jaime.  A little help, please.  Please.”

I had gone from the woman who had completed a triathlon relay, the Warrior Dash, and the 12 hour grueling course of Fear the Reaper in one year to picking up marbles with my toes for physical therapy the next year.  The helplessness and humility of that sharply stung.  Superwomen move mountains and slay dragons.  They.  Do.  Not.  Pick.  Up.  Marbles.  With.  Their.  Toes.

I slipped into a strange depression made worse by this continued lack of exercise, as doctors still couldn’t figure out what was wrong with my foot.  I endured test after test after experiment after too many steroid injections to count.  What could I do?  The foot wouldn’t heal, and I couldn’t run.  Without running or other exercise, I felt like a caged beast.  And I lost a bit of my identity.  I was a runner.  If I could never run again, who was I now?

My pent up energy found no release.  And the other burdens just kept pouring on.  I found myself wondering, “Why won’t this mountain move?  When will these hard times turn into easier times?”  I prayed harder.  The mountain remained immovable.  I could not, for the life of me, understand why God would not hear my cry and remove or ease the burdens from my life.

“God?  Have you been listening?  I’ve needed Your help.  Why won’t You help me move this mountain?”  Silence.  Smothering silence.

“Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?”

And the weight of all the burdens suddenly became too great.  Faith shaken, I grew weary.  I felt defeat from everything gone wrong, both from stress that flowed out of control and from a foot that prevented my running release.  I finally cried.  I felt no shame for crying.  I’m a woman, and crying is my prerogative.

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“You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact,

it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are,

what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.”

~Maya Angelou~

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In the silence I hear it:  that steady ta-tump, ta-tump.  This steady beating fuels the blood of my Gaelic and Nordic ancestry through me.  This wavering faith makes me feel weak; yet, there is purpose in weakness.  Strangely enough, there is strength here.   In this new moment of grace, determination floods my spirit.  The ta-tump transforms into the staccato of a war drum, as overcoming the obstacles has become my battle; has always been my battle; will always be my battle.  This drum stirs that little inner warrior who hides in the dark shadows of my psyche.  She rises up with the weapons of grit and strength.  She looks to the heavens and releases a primal war cry.  This is the Superwoman I know.

I step outside and hear the cry of a hawk slice through the air.  Oddly, this is my prayer answered.  My mind drifts to that silvery green river flowing with my memories and experiences.  I ease into the waters and wade out until I find just the right memory.  Yes, there.

I find myself on Tablerock Mountain again.  I have climbed to the top:  Attocoa, sacred place.   The echoes from the cry of …what is it…maybe a peregrine falcon and the winding river below seem to tap into my spirit as it floats heavenward.  The moment is deeper than majestic with just a note of ethereal.  Nirvana.  Prana.  I have a connection.  I am connected.

As the memory converges with the moment, I understand.  My answers always come in riddles, moments, and scenes.  Defeat is merely temporary.  Some mountains aren’t supposed to move.  No.  Those are the mountains we are supposed to climb.  The journey to the summit forces us to grow stronger.  If we choose the right path up the mountain, we also find the secret wisdom hidden along the way.  These bits of insight and wisdom help guide us when the path grows narrow or unseen in the darker places.

God was listening to my prayers all along.  I feel a bit of shame here for doubting, for allowing my faith to waver.  Sometimes God doesn’t fix things because we need to choose a path:  defeat, bitterness, or strength and growth.  And the truth is I don’t want the easy path.  Not really.  There is no joy and self-satisfaction in things that come easy.  Overcoming the struggles and defeating the obstacles build strength and character.

Sometimes the mountain doesn’t move.  That’s okay.  I’m a woman who likes to throw on her Salomons and a backpack.  I prefer to enjoy the adventure of the climb.

Jaime McMillan © Copyright 2015 All Rights Reserved

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“You have power over your mind, not outside events. 

Realize this, and you will find strength.”

~Marcus Aurelius~

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Matthew 17:20  He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

Philippians 4:13   I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

James 1:2-4 ² Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, ³ because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. ⁴ Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.