His hands were calloused from years of labor; working on the farm, and now this, building the Retreat. Scars covered is arms like roadmaps of a tumultuous life. One stone after another he carefully picked from the pile of rocks, rotating it in his hands before finding the match for which it had been chosen. Around him, the forest sang along to the music to which he worked. The man had a special affinity to listening to music while he toiled; it made him slip away from the pain of the job at hand and allowed his mind to float from one life’s precious memory after another.
Music had always held a special place in his heart.
There were times when he was at work, thinking to himself that after the next song, he would stop for a much-needed break. Inadvertently, the next song would speak to him, keeping him enraptured. Unable to break the bond, he pushed his body onward; sometimes to the point of near exhaustion.
Today it was like that once more, as one rock after another was placed onto the chimney. The strains of gospel songs were compelling him to recall scriptures that matched the lyrics of what was being sung. The hum of the cement mixer blended into the background while his mind continued to buoy from the Word of God and back again. It wasn’t until the song, “You Raise Me Up,” came on that he had to pause.
“You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains,
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas,
I am strong when I am on your shoulders,
You raise me up to more than I can be.”
As the captivating voices of the Celtic Woman drifted into his consciousness, he suddenly realized he was being transported to one of the most special places in his heart; those distant Alpine Peaks of the Waldensian Valleys. He paused, looking up through the canopy of the forest to the azure blue sky. In his mind, he was back on that day, when he and a young pastor he still only knew as Stanley, had stood on that peak facing the valley below. The view was of a breathtaking vista in which God’s craftsmanship was on full display. The clear blue sky hung like a shroud above the temple of those fateful valleys below. There, where so many had lost their lives because of their faith, the depth of time and wails of mournful cries combined into a bittersweet scene that stretched as far as the eye could see.
They, both he and Stanley, had felt the hand of God upon them that day; so much so, each took measure to make mention to the other of how this day may never come again in their lives; at least not in this one; not in this manner. Each man knew in his heart that this possibly might be the only time on this side of Heaven in which they would feel the presence of God so strongly.
The feeling that remained in the man’s heart from that day had not abated; but rather, had only caused his faith to grow stronger. The lyrics in the song made perfect sense as the ladies continued to repeat the chorus, “You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas.” Knowing that this time in his life was as if he was in a boat being tossed upon a stormy sea. Yet, in his faith, he knew that God was in control. The door to the future would open when God had finished the preparations. The man’s faith in Jesus Christ allowed him to walk upon that stormy sea, fearing not that he may sink. Unlike the Apostle Peter, he was sustained by all that he had learned of his walk in faith from that epic mountaintop experience.
It was then he realized, the work that he did was just as his forefathers had done back in those valleys so many centuries before; laying stone. At one point, they were known around the world for their skill in stone masonry, among many of the other spiritual gifts they possessed. The song interrupted his momentary epiphany with the words, “I am strong when I am on your shoulders.”
It was all becoming clearer. Like the low hanging clouds that had obscured the nearby peak on that fateful day, when they parted, it was as if a new revelation began to take hold. Like their ancient faith, like one carved out of stone, they never gave in to the demands that they relinquish their belief in God. In their hearts, they knew that God had given them a special gift when the disciples made their way to these valleys and spoke the words that gave them hope, the words that gave them salvation. From that day on, they vowed to never let those precious scriptures leave their hearts. Memorizing them so that they could never lose them, they would pass them down from generation to the next until they had become an oddity in the annals of mankind. Fro this they would be sought for persecution and atrocities few have known since. When they had been persecuted, it only made them grow closer in their walk. When their feet were literally held to the flames, they worshipped and sang songs in their dying breaths.
The gravity of the moment made him find a seat and pause even more.
Martin Luther spoke of the power of music in our faith when he wrote, ““We can mention only one point (which experience confirms), namely, that next to the Word of God, music deserves the highest praise. No greater commendation than this can be found — at least not by us. After all, the gift of language combined with the gift of song was only given to man to let him know that he should praise God with both word and music, namely, by proclaiming [the Word of God] through music.”
When I find myself seeking answers, listening for God to speak, many times it comes in the form of music; either a song or an instrumental piece. Many has been the time when there seemed to be no direction to my journey, or there was no clear sign from which to act, and without intentionally thinking about the impasse, a song would play through the speakers; there would come an answer.
A chill passed over the man’s body- the feeling of the Holy Spirit passing through him- as the next verse nearly took his breath, “You raise me up to more than I can be.”
That morning, the scripture from Hebrews 6:9 stood out, like a beacon. “But, beloved, we are persuaded better things of you, and things that accompany salvation, though we thus speak.”
Even though the future was uncertain, he knew that with faith, better things awaited. He again thought of that journey to the distant mountain, one in which he could not afford, yet God provided. A journey in which he never dreamed of making, but there he was. Again, and again, there was the miraculous being played out before him in such dramatic, demanding fashion that there would not be enough time to write them all down.
As he sat thinking of all that had gone on since that day with Stanley, he realized the future was just as unknown today as it was then. But as the Word of God had told us, with the faith of your salvation, we can trust that in the end, God’s will shall be done.
Through all of his life’s trials, God had been continually molding him, shaping him into the faithful believer he was today. There were scars, both inside and out, that were reminders of that journey. Through Jesus Christ, he had been made more than he could ever thought possible. Once he left behind the chains of sin, his world changed. It was as if he had been reborn. All things became new, and with new eyes, he could see like never before.
The man stood as the song ended, and before the next one could begin, picked up the next stone and walked toward the growing wall before him. Where it was to go, the Master’s hand would tell.
With time, we shall know the answers to the journey; with faith, we will persevere to the end.
Thanks be to God.
