Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Peaks, Valleys, and Rails


Many of us long for mountaintop moments. Those times of shared success, satisfaction, and celebration. Times when the nail-biting drive of daily life is behind us for a while and forgotten, and all we can think about is the happiness of the moment.

A honeymoon can be that kind of experience: the rush of shared sex, the joy of loving someone and being loved in return, the bright hopes for years of happiness together.

The birth of a child can be a mountaintop: the wonder of little eyes opening for the first time, the sacred squall of a newborn's first cry, the way an infant can bring parents and in-laws together.

A dream vacation with your spouse can be a mountaintop: time to relax and enjoy each other and a beautiful place, without worries, without work.

It's tempting to think of life as a continual climb, looking for the next mountaintop. We may tell ourselves that most of life is lived in the valleys, but we hope we're on the road to another mountaintop experience, and that we'll get there before too long or after too many years on the switchbacks, we can lose hope that we'll ever see another mountaintop. Some people sink into dreary stagnation: "My life is what it is. Not bad enough to end, but I’m not finding any mountaintops."

But is life best seen as a series of mountaintop and valley experiences? Mountaintops that never last long enough, and valleys that seem endless?

"Why does life have to be a series of ups and downs?" "Why can't we just go from one mountaintop to another, from one up to an upper up?"

But what if peaks and valleys aren't the best way to describe life? What if God didn't intend us just to endure down times so we could enjoy an occasional up?

Rick Warren, pastor and author of The Purpose-Driven Life, made an observation a couple of years ago that seems to describe the terrain of life. In a single year, his book reached the top of the best-seller lists and his wife was diagnosed with cancer. A mountaintop? A deep valley? Or something else?

"This past year has been the greatest year of my life," wrote Rick, "but also the toughest, with my wife, Kay, getting cancer. I used to think that life was hills and valleys—you go through a dark time, then you go to the mountaintop, back and forth.

"I don't believe that anymore. Rather than life being hills and valleys, I believe that it's kind of like two rails on a railroad track, and at all times you have something good and something bad in your life."

For a train to make progress, it's always in contact with both rails. Life rides parallel rails of blessing and adversity.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death," writes David in Psalm 23, "I will fear no evil, for you are with me." This songwriter of the Bible is describing a comfort and relationship that emerges only in the difficult times. In fact, the closeness of that relationship develops in the difficult times.

Likewise, as we mature, we begin to notice that joy and difficulty aren't either/or. They coexist constantly.

"No matter how good things are in your life," writes Warren, "there is always something bad that needs to be worked on. And no matter how bad things are in your life, there is always something good you can thank God for."

So maybe the purpose of life isn't about always looking for the next mountaintop.

Joy and difficulty are an odd combination, but much of life is lived seeking one and avoiding the other. I used to think they came one at a time, like alternating currents. Now I realize they're both present, all the time and developing eyes to see both simultaneously is a proof of our maturity.

I'm glad that life isn't just mountaintops and valleys, but that both joy and adversity are with us always for by this we learn one of the most important lessons about life – DEPENDENCE.