The journey, the questions and discovery

A journey inevitably brings with it discovery. Discovery walks hand in hand with questions. And questions in return deepen the discovery.

I have found there to be, at times, a negative connotation towards questions and the mindset that journeys — especially those shaped as trials and affliction — should be walked in silence and obedience. Never questioning why, never seeking to understand and never complaining.

It does seem that we ask the most questions when we have the greatest need. Perhaps this is the very reason for trials in the first place. Do we ever stop to ask God why we are so blessed? ‘Why God does everything seem to be going so well for me? What are you trying to teach me through this?’

Picture a flat field. Soft grass under foot, a gentle stream to the left, a flock of sheep to the right… How do we walk along these paths? Our attention is on the place. The surroundings have our attention. We enjoy the breeze, we sip from the stream, we bleat at the sheep. When we reach the other end of the field our journey is over. We have enjoyed the experience but can we remember any of our steps? We have gotten from A to B with ease but likely learnt nothing.

Contrast this to a mountain pass. A steep incline, a chilling wind, nothing but dust and rock to see… Our focus is not on the surroundings but rather we are lost in our next step. A slip could be injury — or death. When we reach the summit we cannot remember what the mountain looked like. But we can describe each step — and we know each speck of dust on our shoes. We have discovered ourselves, we have found balance, endurance… our hands bleed, our knees ache, our breath is heavy…

But the view!

Who looks up at a mountain and thinks ‘I want to stay down here.’ Something in us says ‘let’s see the top’. You may not be a hiker. (I’m not!) You may not be keen on the journey up. But you want to be on the top of the mountain. The best views are from above.

God looks down from above. He has the best view.

When we are stuck in the darkness of the mountain pass. When our mouths are filled with dust. When our lungs burn with cold, low oxygen air. When our heads are set down, looking out for the next rock attempting to snag our foot. When we are neither at the top nor below in the sheep field… This is when we can only look to God because quite simply, He is the only one who can describe what the view from the top looks like.

I don’t encourage climbing a mountain. It sucks. It hurts. What I can encourage however is to view things from the summit. But if you desire to see things from above, this means a journey is required.

Let me finish the thought back in the field, the gentle breeze, the bleating sheep… That field looks different from the top of the mountain. I don’t think the field can ever be fully understood and enjoyed without the questions asked on the pass. Arrive in the field from the mountain and you will ask questions, you study the ground below you. But the longer you remain in the field the fewer questions you ask.

The field is place of peace, rest, restoration. The mountain is a place of questions and discovery. A place of growth.

Get lost in the field. Enjoy every moment. But look up at the mountain on occasion and ask; ‘What does it look like from up there?’