Wednesday Wonderisms #13
The Terrible Beauty of the Unknown
Once, there was a man who was on a hard journey to claim a long forgotten treasure. Gloom and thunderstorm made it desperate for him in the valleys, with no shelter, no warmth. Nothing except every inch of him dripping with weariness.
Mud crusted around his worn boots, and rain had pelted through his tattered clothes, chilling his bones.
Now, trekking through the desert, those same holes leathered and cracked his skin in the glare of the sun as he struggled to find water and shade.
How much more? he wondered.
One morning, he came to the foot of the mountain range. Savagely, yet resolute, his eyes carved ahead to where the path wrapped and ribboned along the base of the hills before curving around the first mountain and out of his vision. It was so far.
Something within his soul snapped, like the cords of a rope under an enormous weight. He folded to his knees in despair. Fists pounded the rocky terrain as hope drained out of him.
"I just can't make it," he muttered through tears of disbelief. "I wish there was another way." Raising a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun, his gaze scaled the first peak. The man knew the road went well out of the way to get to his goal — which lay just on the other side of these mountains. Maybe even this mountain. It was tall, with steep boulders along the left, but he could make out a few areas where he thought he might just be able to climb it. Was that a lower pass on the side, left of the summit?
The clink of ancient coins left by his forefathers seemed to call to him over the sun-tanned wild oat grass of the hills.
"Maybe," he mused, scratching his chin. "I can climb here, and things will be easier on the other side. Maybe,” he dared, “it’s a shortcut."
So then, he began his ascent. A couple of close calls, but overall, the man was amazed at how efficiently he began to scale the mountain. After a short rest, one leg of the climb was left. Suddenly, past two rocky pillars looking like an archway growing out of the ground, he found himself finally staring down at it — the little town he had been searching for all along. Rust-colored light dancing through the windows glittered the village under the blanket of a dusky sky. His eyes glistened with joy as he started making the descent. "I knew it. I knew there was an easier way," the man chuckled with pride as he went along.
Suddenly, there was a crash as the earth beneath him trembled violently — what was that?! Nostrils filled with the scent of sulfur, and as he turned to look around, the ground shook again, so powerfully that he was thrown to the ground.
The man slowly came to, and though he didn't know how long he'd been out, he recognized one thing: the sky above him was smothered in black smoke, broken only by the flicker of fiery stones launching out in every direction.
Chaos filled his ears as the mountain came apart all around him. It was as if the earth itself was turning inside out, vomiting up liquid fire. With utter horror he realized too late that this was no mere mountain — it was a volcano, erupting all its fury. Rock and flame rained down from the cloud as a wave of molten lava began to erode the summit in every direction.
There was nowhere to run. This was it.
Weeping in his final moments, he cried out "Why? Why didn't I just take the path that was right in front of me?"
Friends, the journey of life is so hard.
It runs us ragged and takes us for a ride we didn’t pay for. Often, we're looking for the quick way to get to our destination.
For the short-cut.
“All I have seen teaches me to trust the creator for all I have not seen.”1
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
The journey to beautiful things can be both wonderful and terrible.
Trusting God can feel impossible when you've been treading water in the same dead-end job; when you've been struggling financially for month after month, year after year; when you feel pulled to great things and don't see them happening; when the diagnosis paints a murky picture of the future; when you've sacrificed for others and feel like it hasn't gone anywhere; when you've been praying for a destructive family member who’s spinning out; when you just don't know where He's leading and you long for clarity.
For us, the danger can be just that: longing for clarity.
Being totally transparent, I hate when things aren't crystal clear. Whether it was ambiguous instructions from an old boss at work or driving around in a city I've never been before, I like having a plain vision of what's ahead of me. It's the flawed part of me that yearns for control. I feel a deep-seated need to know where I'm going.
But that's where faith comes in.
So many amazing stories fill the Scriptures about people who had no clue what God was doing, but they knew Him; His nature and goodness, which was enough. Abraham's life is a great example.
"By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed by going out to a place which he was to receive for an inheritance; and he went out, not knowing where he was going."
— Hebrews 11:8
Though Abraham was a successful man of influence, he left his comfortable, predictable life and followed the path God set before him. His story of faith is a manual on living life at the edge of the unknown. We have such a hard time with that, though. Humans hate not knowing. When we don't know something, we guess or we scheme a different, "quicker" way to get ahead. But a manufactured life isn't what we were made for, and it has dangerous results:
"There is a way which seems right to a man,
But its end is the way of death."— Proverbs 14:12
Whether you're waiting, walking or climbing, you must lean into the goodness of God. It’s the only way. At times I'm thinking, "God, I have no clue what You're up to." But it's okay. His way always leads to life. Blaise Pascal said “Perfect clarity would profit the intellect but damage the will.”2
God is much more interested in developing our trust in Him than giving us all the information we want to possess.
There is a terrible beauty in the unknown. The Spirit of God can orchestrate anything He desires in your life. And that can be a bit scary, but it can also be exhilarating.
Walk the path set before you. Trust the Father. Step into the unknown.
I leave you with two things to help you meditate and reflect on the beauty of the unknown today:
A psalm to meditate on;
A song to encourage & challenge you.
SCRIPTURE
7 Though I walk in the midst of trouble, You will revive me;
You will stretch forth Your hand against the wrath of my enemies,
And Your right hand will save me.
8 The Lord will accomplish what concerns me;
Your lovingkindness, O Lord, is everlasting;
Do not forsake the works of Your hands.— Psalm 138:7-8
SONG
[Wednesday Wonderisms is a short devotional reflection I’ll be sharing on midweek mornings. Whether it’s sparked by a Scripture, a conversation with a friend, personal musings while raising my three kids or thoughts on the state of the Church, the goal is to encourage you to become an even more ardent worshiper of King Jesus. Hit the link below to share it with a friend.]
Emerson, Ralph Waldo. (2011). Natural Abundance: Ralph Waldo Emerson's Guide to Prosperity, p.107, Simon and Schuster.
Pascal, Blaise. Pensées (1670), Section 12, No. 3. As translated in W.H. Auden and L. Kronenberger (eds.) The Viking Book of Aphorisms (1966), 347. From the original French, “La clarté parfaite ne servirait qu’à l’esprit, et nuirait à la volonté,” in Pensées de Blaise Pascal (1847).
Your posts are so well done! I love how you convinced quotes and scripture and artwork. Great job!
I do recollect the "terrible beauty" of the unknown...
My 20th and last year in the Air Force was spent without my family in Iceland after my previous assignment was curtailed. It wasn’t a good place to be ending a career, nor prep for the next. My wife and I had just completed some much-needed marriage counseling; this year would put it to the test! Professionally and personally, I was in exile...
Where would God’s deliverance be--how would I walk the path before me? Could I see his purpose??
He put me to work...
During this year I was busy! I supervised Air Force fighter and tanker operations, the wind and wet weather kept us on our toes year ‘round, I was up at 3 am daily to see if the road to the flightline needed to be plowed.
I was offered an apartment on base, but I opted to stay in the dorm with the junior officers. I had prayed for Christian “fellowship”, so I joined the choir at the base chapel and a men’s Bible study group on Saturdays and volunteered to teach an adult Sunday School class on Sundays. Significantly, 2 months into my assignment, a “young” 25-year-old guy moved in across the hall, and we spent time daily after work, in Bible study and discussion. He was seminary bound after his next assignment, and our joint passion for the scriptures ignited both of us!
A number of airmen in our squadron were in Iceland because they were “running from something” so I reached out to 2 guys who were really struggling with the military and their families and offered support. I also baby sat for a couple of families that I met at the chapel. I bought a cheap car, but when it broke down, I offered to “take care of” vehicles that families left on the Island during their one trip back to the states for a month each year. That meant I always had 1-3 cars in my possession, kept them serviced—and then cleaned them before they returned.
The point here, is that the "terrible beauty of the unknown" brought the opportunity to mentor and serve others.
Frankly, that’s often the point of our circumstances; that God has graciously prepared our lives up until that point to be engaged in specific acts of life and service.
It didn’t make the year go any faster (and my wife and kids had their own challenges with my year long absence), but it broke me, humbled me and drove home the words of the Psalm you shared: that his kindness is everlasting!!