Refined by Fire

Coming back from my mission trip to Jamaica with the Wesley Foundation, I was on a strange kind of spiritual high. It wasn't the "spiritual" spiritual high, where you feel like you're on fire for God and nothing can stop you. It was a different kind, where I was grateful for all the new friendships God gave me over the course of the week and thankful that they would be here for me to help me stay strong in my faith. Of course, I'm still very thankful for them, but the other night at house church, I suddenly dropped off of my spiritual high. I can't explain why; it just happened. (What was interesting is that the speaker at house church mentioned, just a few moments later, that we were not meant to stay on our spiritual mountaintops, but to come down into the valley to support those down below and encourage them to move up the mountain.) And then I started doubting. It was weird. I had never experienced that kind of doubt before, thinking that maybe there was something I was missing and that I was on the wrong path. I hated that feeling, and I wanted to get back on the mountain again, but God wouldn't let me. I needed to stay in the valley and learn to trust Him there.

While I was in Jamaica, I was struggling with not knowing what God was trying to teach me and where He was taking me. I knew God was teaching me, but I didn't know if I was learning, and if so, what I was learning. So I talked with my friend Shelby, and she helped put things into perspective for me. I think God planned to bring up the mountaintop analogy at house church, because he brought it up in my conversation with Shelby too. He knew I would need that analogy to figure out where I'm headed. Anyway, I told Shelby how I felt like I just wasn't learning anything, not moving anywhere, and she told me about a vision someone had had about her: a sailboat sitting on the still water, waiting for the wind to come move it. And she explained that we are meant to come down off the mountain in order to teach the people in the valley and encourage them, to show them that it's possible to trust God even in the tough times and the times when nothing is happening. Then when I was reading James later that night, a thought hit me when I got to verse 4 of Chapter 1 ("Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything"): Perseverance is not simply being able to stand up under temptation; it's being able to trust God no matter what, even when you fall off the mountain. That was my exact thought, as if God was telling me what I was about to experience in a little over a week. And we will know when perseverance has finished its work because we will be able to see every valley as a mountaintop, creating a picture of a never ending staircase. When you fall off of the mountain and into the valley, your perception will adjust to see the valley as a new mountain; then when you fall off of that one, your perception will change again; and the process continues, only to be interrupted by climbing onto a new mountain through God's wisdom, which God offers freely to us when we ask for it (James 1:5).

So while I had climbed onto a new mountain of close community with my Jamaica team, I was still in the valley of not knowing what I was learning; and from that valley, Satan attacked at house church, trying to make me doubt God. He had taken me down another step on my neverending staircase, but I'm still learning to see it as just another step. That kind of perseverance is something that God is going to have to continue to teach me for the rest of my life.

Now, this is probably going to sound really prideful, which I don't mean for it to be, so just bear with me. From that valley, I continued to trust God, asking Him to increase my faith so that I would have no cause to doubt Him. I was like Job, being tested to see if I would reject God. I was given the opportunity to deny Him, but I refused. My valley became a new mountain.

Of course, it was only made possible because God gave me the strength to stand strong. He answered my prayer and increased my faith, even though it didn't feel like my faith was any stronger in the moment of my weakness.

Now I'm about to get really off track because this is where my mind is wandering. The Wesley Foundation is asking for leadership applicants for next year, and I really want to stay a part of Freshley, so I'm planning on doing Freshley leadership. I've been considering either being a Freshley small group leader or being on the Freshley prayer team, but I was more strongly considering small groups. But over the course of the last week, I've had probably ten people tell me that they think I would be good on prayer leadership, that I strike them as a "prayer warrior." Last Tuesday God had me lead prayer at the Port Maria prayer and worship night. In fact, He had me plan it and put it into action. Then Thursday came, and after having some kind of Christian fellowship every night this week (except for last Sunday, ironically), I dropped off of my spiritual high. (This is where it gets really prideful, so think of this as encouragement. Tell yourself that this is true of you.) Up until that point, Satan didn't think I was much of a threat. Then after the prayer and worship night, he realized that God had been training me to be a prayer warrior, a strong soldier in His army. For nineteen years, I've been a civilian in training, but now God has seen fit to put me on the battlefield. And now that Satan has seen me armed and ready for war, he has decided to attack full force, aiming for my faith, trying to take me down before I can hinder his schemes. But thanks to God's training, I was able to counter the devil's attacks. Like Job, I relied on God, even in the face of trials. So I'm glad to be considered worthy of being tested, and to be given the strength to withstand my trials.

In a way, the picture of being a prayer warrior is an answer to an unconscious prayer. For a while I've been struggling a little bit with self-image in that I'm not a typical bold, tough, adventurous guy. It's a pretty minor thing in my thought life though, and I'm content with who I am. I didn't even know it was an answer to prayer until just now. But still, being called a prayer warrior is a great encouragement for me, knowing that I have been made strong in Christ.

So yeah, I'm pretty much convinced now that Freshley prayer leadership is where I belong, and that God is teaching me to put all my trust in Him until I can truthfully sing, "All my fountains are in You."