The Invitation to the Valley

I have been on an interesting journey recently. Lately I have felt the draw, the urge, to deal with some deep issues in my life. I believe it is the Lord beckoning me to return to the depths of my soul. These are the deep places, the oft dark places, the places from which my motivations and desires spring. These are the places that go unexamined most of the time, and that is not a bad thing in and of itself. To visit these wild regions of the heart is a perilous and consuming thing. You could not live in this place forever, but to reject the invitation to this part of the journey would be to reject the invitation to growth, to healing. It would be to reject the invitation of God.

Accepting this invitation is like entering a deep gorge. At first there is some excitement as you marvel at the view, the vista is grand, the scenery interesting. The sense of adventure is almost palpable. The canyon gapes before you and you see the path winding downward, and you can hardly wait for the adventure to begin. As you follow the path downward the walls grow ever higher on either side of you. Their immensity is awe inspiring. The shadows start to grow deeper and fall more and more across your path. As you move deeper into the defile you start to grow somewhat apprehensive. What will be around the next bend? Where is this road leading you? You start to slow down. The path feels familiar under your feet. It is as if you have been here before, but it is not a comfortable kind of familiarity. It is simultaneously familiar and frightening. You start to feel anxious. The hair stands up on the back of your neck. The canyon walls are no longer beautiful or interesting to your eyes. They now seem more ominous as they tower over you. They seem to close in on you as you move ever onward, ever downward.

You start to feel like turning back. Now the canyon is so dark that you are really afraid. You can’t see the way forward clearly, but you are beckoned onward. The walls are so close now that you are bumped and bruised. You remember this feeling. You remember this fear. This is what you ran from years ago. This is what you spent so many years avoiding. These are the feelings you have been denying and protecting yourself from for so long. Now the canyon has narrowed so far that you have to turn sideways and push yourself through the crevice before you. The only way forward will be painful, but to turn back is unthinkable. You have come this far. He beckons you on. He assures you it will be alright. But can you trust Him? He has allowed you to be hurt before. Can you trust Him?! Where else can you go? Who else has the words of eternal life? And so, you plunge yourself in the crevice, getting scraped and scratched, battered and bloodied, trusting that He will not mislead you, that He has not lead you here to abandon you. You cannot see where He is leading, but you choose to trust.

As you struggle on fear grips your heart. You have been down here a long time. You are not sure how much more of this you can take. You start to doubt. What if you were wrong? What if you have deceived yourself and He didn’t really ask you to take on this journey? After all, you it doesn’t seem like anyone else is taking a journey like this. How come you have to do this while others seem to do just fine without having to endure the darkness, this dark night of the soul? And then you see a glimmer of light ahead. At first you’re not sure you didn’t imagine it. No, there it is! There is a light ahead. Just a bit further on and you’ll be through. You push yourself around the last bend, through the narrow passage and suddenly a new vista breaks forth before you and you are free!

As I have answered His call and followed this path, I have been brought to deep places of hurt and of healing. I have had old wounds exposed and received new healing. I have found that He is trustworthy after all. So, here I raise my “ebenezer” and say, “thus far He has carried me”. I have yet another experience of His faithfulness to look back on. I hope I will not be much longer in the valley, as it is the valley of death, of self-mortification; and yet, I would not avoid this painful part of the journey. I know myself and Him better for having accepted His invitation. I have a new level of freedom. I will have to stand firm to remember and to live in this freedom. I will have to struggle to remember the lessons learned in the valley as I return to the highlands. I will have to resist the temptation to return to life as it once was, as I lived before. But I trust as He was with me in the valley, He will be with me on the highlands as well.