by Timothy W. Tron
Each time he returned from the mountain, his life was changed. Another nuance of who he had become was revealed. He was forever changing into the new person to which he had sought his entire life to become. There was no tablet in his arms as he descended from the heights above; no law; no antiquated precept for which to behold; rather, there were pathways to distant memories that had once been buried, now unearthed to become the inspiration for going forward. They had returned as ghosts from his past to help others around him see the light; that which is the true light. He was not that light but was there only to help those, through him, believe. Those scars of life’s experiences became a therapeutic source, something he never anticipated. Through the catharsis of healing, he could now better understand his purpose for which God had intended. Through the new journey, there was more than just the apparent nature of healing spiritually, but physically as well.
Where the spirit is weak, so is the body. One cannot exist without the other.
Each day as the sun arose, the scriptures spoke of new hope, new promises to be found.
Each day, the healing within and without continued.
Jacob, a good friend of mine, had only recently found himself able to once more confidently be himself. His world had seemed to fall apart, one seemingly unbelievable event after another. It was as if anything that could go wrong would. From one loss to the next, it seemed as if bad news were the only guarantee in his life. The stress of so many unanswered prayers continually compounded themselves; dark waves crashing against the bedrock of his soul, one upon the next, until it seemed his heart would break. Pushing it all aside, using every ounce of faith he could contain, he forged onward. “Press on toward the mark,” he could hear the Apostle Paul saying. Every morning he arose, making himself pretend there was a consistency in chaos. The work of the building kept his mind occupied while he communed with the Lord. The blistering heat swayed not his determination. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. When it appeared as if all detrimental events had subsided, a new, more deadly attack came.
Looking back, Jacob could see where the sultry summer solstice had merely turned out to be the calm before the storm.
Out of nowhere, an insect-borne illness struck. Jacob was bedridden for days. The excruciating pain, fever, and chills were like nothing he had known to this point in his life. The doctors were initially dumbfounded by the test results. Eventually, the prognosis became clearer, and medication was finally prescribed; but not after Jacob had seemed to hit rock bottom. At one point, the pain was so intense, the darkness so great, he had prayed God to take him home. There was nothing more he wanted than to be free of his earthly body. Broken and shattered, he lay in the pool of sweat as his body felt frozen. He felt as if he had now found the deepest darkest valley as he lay in the shadow of death.
The painful hours passed, and Jacob contemplated if he would ever be able to reach the top of the mountain again. “The deeper the valley, the higher the peak,” he kept telling himself, through one exacerbating breath after another.
In the course of searching for answers to Jacob’s malady, there was another discover; one that had not been anticipated initially. Jacob’s heart was not functioning as expected. Upon further investigation, there was a concern of the erratic nature of the heart’s beat, to the point he was sent to a Cardiologist. Later, the insect-borne disease he had contracted was found to attack the heart in a way that it would affect the beating. However, God always has a purpose, even when we think we know why we are on a particular path, God’s plan may often be something unexpected, something never imagined.
Eventually, the Cardiologist would find it necessary to perform a heart catheterization on Jacob. In disbelief, he sat listening. “What next,” he thought to himself as the doctor shared with him what to expect. It seemed as if the summer, which he at one time had hoped to be spent on a whirlwind, inspirational mission trip, had turned into the summer of incomprehensible horror. A darkness of the most profound evil had besieged him and his family. In the darkest moments of the storm, he had continued to cling to the only thing that gave him comfort, the Word of God. He placed his mind in the shadow of Christ as he continued to listen and felt his savior envelop him in his arms.
“We might have to put in a stint, should we find enough blockage, which is what I suspect,” espoused the doctor smiling with the best intentions.
Jacob’s mind wandered back again, back to another place and time to another one of those scars in his life.
He and his wife had visited his hometown. It was nothing more than an opportunity to share with her the place he grew up. Having left it behind so many years ago, it was as if they were both discovering it anew once again. During that trip, they met with family members for supper at a small country diner. In the group was Jacob’s most honored family member, Uncle Markus. Markus was one that Jacob had looked up too and admired for all that he had accomplished in his life. His Uncle had also become the beloved spiritual leader of their family; the outpost of faith since Grandpa and Grandma had passed. His Uncle Markus had been one of the first men of the family to obtain a college degree and then went on to become a high school teacher, and eventually, a college professor. Markus was there along with his wife, Rose, and two sons. It would be the last time Jacob would see his Uncle Markus and Aunt Rose alive.
Looking back, that evening in the St. Joseph’s Diner so many years ago, those in attendance were just a tiny portion of Jacob’s father’s family. There had been seven siblings total in the paternal family; five boys and two girls. Likewise, they were a tiny fragment of the fun-filled, rollicking antics so often characterized by his paternal family. He recalled how he had bought some cast rubber replicas of morels from Wilson’s Furniture Store earlier in the day. They were unusual in that they had suction cups at the bottom. He had guessed at the time they might be fun to stick on the dash of the truck the next time they went morel hunting. Without thinking, he stuck them in his pocket that morning for safekeeping. Hunting morels was a favorite outdoor event that the entire family looked forward to every year. Morels are a type of mushroom that only come up in certain soils at a specific time of the year. Because of their precarious growing season and climate, they are difficult to find. But because of their delicious flavor, when they are discovered, you feel like you are receiving manna from heaven. So, as the course of the evening’s meal ensued; somehow, the topic of morel hunting came up. When someone was describing their prowess at finding the elusive mushroom, Jacob remembered the rubber replicas in his pocket. Quietly, and without garnering attention, he bent his head down and fastened the suction cups to the lens of his glasses. Then when the moment was right, he looked up and said, as the rubber morels goggled before his spectacles, “I would say, that I would be the best Morel hunter around simply because of my superior morel vision.” The entire table, and the rest of the restaurant who couldn’t help to overhear broke out into laughter. The establishment had in a way, become their surrogate kitchen that evening, and everyone shared in the raucous laughter. That memory, along with the fateful journey of his Uncle Markus reverberated in his soul once more; afresh and new, like the recovery of an ancient treasure that blesses the very spirit within.
Not long afterward, his Uncle Markus was told by doctors that they had found blockages in his heart, but there was no dire concern because they had a new way of relieving the life-threatening condition through a new procedure using stints. The family was very much relieved, yet apprehensive when it came time for the surgery. The operation went well, and Markus was to stay overnight for observation, just as the doctor had told Jacob. However, Markus’s surgery was forty years prior, the new miracle cure had only just begun being used. Markus had been warned not to move around, but as was the case, he got up simply to use the restroom during the night, harmless as that may sound. The doctors would later surmise that plaque had broken loose in the artery where the stint was inserted, which found its way to Markus’s brain. Uncle Markus died long before his time. Yet, it was God’s time, not our own.
Jacob’s mind panged once more for his Uncle and knew that God had used the stint to call him home. It didn’t make the memory any less painful, nor did it comfort him knowing that medical advances in the past forty years had made the procedure much less treacherous. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t eliminate the thought of possibly facing the same fate.
Feelings of the recent trials and struggles haunted him in the hours leading up to the operation. “Had he done all that he needed to prepare for leaving this life,” he thought to himself? “Had he done all that he could do to help his family financially once he was gone?” Then the formidable realization of their salvation bore upon him, “Had he done all that he could do to prepare them for life eternal?” He felt in his soul that his work was not over, but if God was calling him home, he was ready either way.
“The Lord would provide,” he told himself, again and again.
Yet, he was never alone.
Friends and family had encouraged Jacob on his journey, and many had prayed for him. As the Bible tells us, “Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.” All his life, there were those praying for him even when they had lost contact with him physically; those faithful prayer warriors that lift us up even when we are the least worthy.
Jacob never forgot this, that many had lifted him up in prayer, as the day for the surgery came. As the lights, needles, and monitors flickered and beeped through the operating room, his mind rested peacefully as he felt the hand of God warm him in that cold, foreign place; prayers were being answered. Before he knew it, the medical staff and the lead doctor were wrapping up.
“You’re all done,” the Cardiologist proclaimed proudly.
“Your heart had a major blockage,” he relayed without remorse, as he held his personal device over Jacob’s head.
“But, as you can see,” he said through his operating mask, “Your heart has healed itself by making its own bypass. Better than I could have done,” he said, pointing his purple glove finger toward the miniature screen.
“It’s just beautiful,” the doctor continued, admiring the tiny image before Jacob, as he turned to look at it himself one more time. “You won’t need any stints either, your heart is perfectly clear other than that one blockage which has miraculously healed itself.”
Jacob couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Through the fog of medication necessary for the operation, he struggled to understand all that the doctor had just said.
“Miracle,” was all that he could think, “God had performed a miracle. I should be dead,” he whispered to himself.
Prayers had once more been answered; like a thunderbolt, their presence was felt. Warm tears filled Jacob’s eyes as the gurney was wheeled out of the operating room and back to recovery.
As the cloud of the sedative began to wear off, Jacob continued to feel buoyed by the very nature of the miracle that had transpired; unaware, unexpectedly, God had cured him of the life-threatening blockage. Not only that, he had cleared every other debilitating possible blockage so that his heart was like new. “With time, your heart will grow stronger,” the nurse conveyed, as she heard Jacob speak of the revelation in the recovery room.
A gleam of joy shone into his now healing heart.
The next couple of days were spent resting and allowing the medication from the surgery to wear off. But once Jacob was able to get outside, he took a short walk along the ridge where he lived. In the distant, the blue peaks stood majestically; proud and stoic. Never so bright were the flowers. Never so blue was the heavenly blue azure sky above. The trees sounded as if they were singing the praises of the noonday sun. The joyous memory of that evening in the St. Joe Diner sparkled once more in his mind. The flicker of life revived, of happiness and laughter. The old spirit of rejoicing with gladness the moments in life afforded us, no matter the setting, no matter the circumstance had been rekindled. The old spirit had reunited with the new Spirit; together, their energy was more than enough to uplift the weary soul; they gave new life to the body within.
Jacob’s life had been a culmination of learning and finding the way through failure and loss. The sins of his life had kept him shackled to the world of the flesh, and because of it, had prevented him from being to that which he was called. Subtlety, and without any instantaneous change, Jacob found himself seeking direction from something beyond the temporal world around him. Once he did, God began to work through him in inexplicable ways. Some say that God works in mysterious ways, but when one walks through the valley of the shadow of death and someday finds themselves on the mountain top of that remorseful valley below, it is then that they can finally appreciate what it is to receive Christ into their lives.
Yes, my brothers and sisters, God is waiting for you to answer your call. He is ready for you to take him into your life. Not only will your spirit be renewed, but your body will be blessed beyond measure.
Look to the horizon and climb the nearest mountain, leaving that valley below. When you reach the summit, allow all that you experience to fill your cup to overflowing. Allow yourself to be changed. Sup from the spring of God’s mercy while you can for the peaks of our lives never last forever. May He annointest thy head with oil. Share the testimonies and miracles in your life, for you may be the inspiration that someone needed to hear.
Someday, you will descend into another valley, and when you do, take with you the precious gift of God’s grace. By our scars, we can be healed, and by Christ’s scars we can be reborn. Be the light for all, no matter where you are; whether if you are on the highest mountain top, or in the deepest, darkest abyss, let your light shine for all to see.
As Paul said, “For to me to live is Christ.”
So, my friend, live as if living is Christ, and goodness and mercy will follow you all the days of your life.
Thanks be to God.