Valleys? Or Mountains?

It's been a bit since I posted an update. Apologies for that! Between the roller coaster of this disease and the delightful visits of family and friends, I couldn't find the energy for this post until now.

If you skip over all the rest of my ramblings and musings, hold tight to this nugget of the update: God is still faithful. My Jesus' grace is still sufficient, and His strength is still perfect even in my weakness (see 2 Cor. 12:9). 

The medical details of this update aren't anything dramatic. There's nausea and other unpleasantness in the nitty gritty details of this valley. There's fatigue and the ever-present cough. Some days are better than others. I had my fourth chemo treatment to go to today. But in the weariness, the sickness, the pain, the worry - Jesus is there. The other night my back was hurting, the ice pack wasn't helping, and the ibuprofen hadn't kicked in yet. I was trying to fall asleep and not succeeding. So I told Jesus about it, and asked for His grace to endure it, but would He please make the pain subside enough so I could fall asleep. Next thing I knew, it was the wee hours of the morning, nature was calling, and I had gotten better sleep than I had for awhile. When I got back in bed, I started talking to Jesus again, this time thanking Him for answering my prayer for relief from the pain so I could sleep. The little thought floated through my mind as I drifted off, "I answer the small things to build your faith that I am also answering the bigger prayers. Ask more!" The psalmist wrote, "O Thou that hearest prayer, unto Thee shall all flesh come" (Ps. 65:2). Our God is the God known for hearing prayers. Hallelujah!

I've been thinking about valleys and mountains. In the figurative sense, everyone seems to want the mountaintop experience, the excitement and exhilaration of big things accomplished or wider horizons viewed. No one likes the valleys, with their trials and struggles, their closed-in sides, or their loneliness. But think of the literal mountains and valleys. The literal mountaintops are a struggle to get to; they rarely have an abundance of plant or animal life because the height of the mountain exposes it more severely to the weather. Literal valleys can indeed be barren wastelands, just look at America's Death Valley. But most valleys have an abundance of flora and fauna; they are protected by the surrounding mountains from the harshest weather. 

I've lived a good portion of my life in the valleys, both literal and figurative. Growing up in Tennessee, my family attended church (and music lessons, and countless other things!) in Dunlap, located in the Sequatchie Valley. I love that valley and the people I got to know there! I've lived most of my life in figurative valleys, too, most of which were hidden valleys that very few, if any, knew about. The obvious ones were growing up in a broken and blended family, going through a major medical emergency when I was 8 (complications with a surgery), and losing our house to a fire two days before Christmas the year I was 16. 

Here's what I'm beginning to realize about myself: I prefer the valleys. When it comes to the literal geological forms, I actually like both. But the figurative ones? Give me the valleys. And no, I'm not joking. It's quite simple, really. On the mountaintop, I can catch a glimpse of the Almighty, a taste of the power of the God I love and serve. But in the valley, He walks alongside me. To me, the mountaintop is necessary and inspiring, but lonely. I like the valley because my Best Friend is there. No, I don't like the trials and struggles. But I treasure the small reminders of His love for me that He scatters across my path with every step. I take courage during the hellish darkness of a painful thing because that's often when I hear His voice and feel His presence most clearly. Let me go back to the verse I referenced in the second paragraph. 

And He said unto me, "My grace is sufficient for thee: for My strength is made perfect in weakness." Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me" (2 Cor. 12:9).

I don't like all aspects of this latest figurative valley, but I won't deny that my soul is being refreshed in a way it hasn't been in years. Why? Because Jesus is walking closer to me through this valley than He's ever been before, and how can I not be thankful for that?! I will continue to choose joy in this valley, because the power of Christ is being seen through this.

One of my sweet sisters-in-law recently sent me the link to this song (listen here). It was a beautiful reminder for me, and I hope it blesses you as well. Until next time, keep trusting our Savior!