Mountain Ranges

                Back when I was a child my father started a business with Art, an old friend from his school days. Art lived in Arizona and together they opened Apache Stone Company. Dad was more of a silent partner and every year we would fly out to visit while he and Art got some business done. Those were really fond memories for me but one in particular stands out as down-right miserable. The lesson I learned from my experience only occurred to me decades later.

                I was about 13 years old when Dad took an older sister and I out with him to work at one of the quarries. The idea was that we would drive up into the mountains and spend a couple of days splitting rock with sledge hammers or pick-axes. (He had mostly girls and expected us to be strong). I believe this was supposed to be a bonding experience as well as learning some good work ethics.  So, we hopped into Art’s pick-up truck with the camper top and headed out. All I can really remember from that point on was that scorching dry heat and dust. We’d break up the rock into smaller stones that could be used for decorative purposes and toss it into another truck. I remember sitting amongst the rocks, too tired to lift the dang hammer and just kind of hoping they would split themselves. To be fair, Dad wasn’t a slave driver, I was just pretty darn lazy.) The only other thing I remember from the trip is when we had finally exhausted ourselves and my sister and I were snug in the camper bed, we sensed something fluttering above our heads. As we screamed for Dad to come save us from the killer moth, our relief in seeing him was short lived. He swatted both of us, not the moth. All was not a loss though. I earned 6 bucks for my hard work that weekend and in all, I believe that was a fair wage.

                This memory reminds me of Jesus, when he was with His disciples and told them that if they had the faith of a mustard seed, they could move mountains. Now, I tend to be one of those literal types so I’ve always struggled to understand what He was saying here. (It must be something genetic. I’m sure I’ve passed that trait on to one of my sons. One day, as he was opening his first ever bottle of pop, I caught him shaking it up. NOOOOOO, says I! “But Mom, you said it was the last thing I should do!” says he. But I digress.) Just how much faith is in a little bitty mustard seed any way? I can’t seem to move any mountains so just what can I equate my faith to?

 Sometimes, our daily struggles loom large in front of us, like a mountain we can’t see around. Meditating on Christ teaching on faith, He began to shed light on the issue. (Cue the light bulb over my head. I may be 56 but dang, I can still learn)! Remembering back 30some years ago, I never would have dreamed that God would bring me to where He has. The problems in life seemed so big, like a mountain with no pass. Well, if you can’t walk over it, move it! But how? God doesn’t ask us to move the whole kitten-caboodle in a day or even a year. He gives us a lifetime. Each day, if we have just a little faith, with His help we can move a little pebble or stone or rock out of the way and toss it aside. In time, the mountain begins to look quite a bit different, not so ominous. We don’t need to worry about the whole mountain and honestly, I don’t want to even see it. Just grace for this day and bright hope for tomorrow.

                Now as I look behind me, there is a large bit of the mountain moved. He has been gentle at times, while at others, He used a sledge or pick-ax, or maybe even dynamite, to move the rock. With His strength the terrain has changed and it’s taken on a prettier, more lush look and for that I’m eternally grateful. As the landscape gradually changes, and as Christ plants all of those little seeds, I can look forward to the days and years to come. All I need is the faith for this moment, this day, one pebble, one stone, or one rock at a time.