on the mountain tall.

One morning last week, I climbed a mountain by myself. Empty mind, empty heart, emotionally exhausted and experiencing a rawness of heart I didn’t know was possible. I climbed looking for answers, seeking to understand. My addiction to sense had me striving for clarity.

“Okay, go,” I told Him, once I got to the top. Surrendered, silent, ready. Ready for some super dramatic moment when He was just going to show up and explain Himself to me. Explain myself to me. Explain all of it.

So, I sat on this rock and waited. I didn’t have anything to say that I hadn’t already said. I knew that He knew, and there was nothing left to say.

I looked over the mountains, eager for Him to start explaining. “I did what you asked me to do, God,” I whispered. And I waited.

I started running through the files of memory, trying to get Him to jump in and interrupt and interpret. But He didn’t, and I ran out of words. Words that have never been enough in the first place.

Wind pulled me from myself, sweeping through the trees below me. A thousand shades of green, vibrant in the glow of the sun. The smells of springtime and waking life, dandelions waving from the dirt.

Wonder leads to clarity, Steffany Gretzinger once said.

Distracted by the beauty of creation, I started to worship. Filled with wonder in the intricacy of the forests surrounding me, in the attention paid to every detail, I proclaimed His goodness.

I let go. I gave over to the silence my heart was actually craving, and I worshiped beyond emotion. I worshiped, declaring His goodness in the face of all that I could not understand.

He knew that I needed silence, and so He waited to speak. My mind had been spinning, and He was teaching me to breathe in the space that He was giving me. Because sense doesn’t satisfy, but the Savior does.

And then, heart quieted, no longer striving for answers, I heard His voice.

You don’t know. How do you respond to the unknown? You trust someone who does know. Let me carry your heart. Let me lead all of you because I do know. I AM. Your heart just needs to rest and be and not know. Allow yourself to be, beyond words. 



So often, if I don’t know, I think there’s something wrong with me. I don’t have enough faith, I’m not hoping enough, I’m not strong enough.

Except: Jesus never said that I had to know anything beyond His love for me. And He promised that His love would always be enough.

He gives us permission not to know– isn’t that incredible? We don’t have to know. He gives us permission to just be the child. I can just be the little girl that I am. I can trust Him to be the Father that He is and fall into the strength of His arms. Because He’ll never let me down.

When you ask Jesus to teach you trust, He’ll place you in situations that are absolutely beyond your ability to fix. When you ask Jesus to teach you surrender, He’ll show you how addicted to control you are and ask you to lay down everything that you think you know. When you ask Jesus to teach you stillness, He’ll lead you into the middle of the storm, and allow the waves to increase, but will show you how to choose calm in the midst of it all. Because He’s in control. 

We think we know what we need. Going up that mountain, I thought I knew what I needed. But God has no interest in just spelling it all out for us so that we can know a bunch of facts. He wants us to know His heart…and that means knowing a wild love that doesn’t. let. us. down.

He’s never not working, He’s never not communicating His love.

So, if you’re not hearing Him: worship.

If you’re not seeing Him: worship.

When you don’t understand: worship.

When you don’t know what comes next: worship.

Worship introduces wonder back into hearts, and wonder leads to the shores of clarity. Climb the mountain, friends. Lay down what you think you need for what He knows you need and what He is going to give you. Lay down control and give yourself permission to surrender to not knowing. It’s time to just be the child, and let Him be the Father.

He knows.



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