How to Manage That Immovable Mountain…Again
While hanging out with my granddaughter Hazel at a park a few weeks ago, we watched an ant moving a grain of sand, and I thought about an old blog post. And mostly about how much has changed since I wrote it.
Sometimes I like to revisit my old thoughts.
Most of the time, when I do, they are way off, and I cringe at the naivete or confusion or immaturity.
But every once in a while, I find my former self shockingly wise.
I took a look at a post I wrote in January of 2020. This date clearly falls on the “before” side of that perforated pandemic line that says: Tear Here. Everyone’s story ripped in two just a couple months later. None of us are the same as we were back then.
My post was called “To Manage a Mountain.”
MOUNTAINS THAT REMAIN
When I wrote this piece, I had no idea the mountains I was about to face, as part of a stunned society, but also as a person in a world that still aches to be made right. Looking back over those four and a half years, I can now see the many mountains I have managed. Mountains that didn’t move—that my faith didn’t cause to fall into the sea. Mountains that stood solid before me and threatened to break me.
Some amazing, some terrifying. But still, somehow mountains that I’ve been able to make it through:
My children all continue to live in different states.
I buried first my dad, then three months later, my mom—without public funerals.
My husband survived a tough, scary case of pre-vaccine COVID; Several we know did not.
My first grandchild was born healthy, but a plane-ride away.
I signed a book contract and released a book.
My heart failure worsened.
MOUNTAINS THAT RETURN
And just last week, like in “To Manage a Mountain” and in the essay “Size of Loss” in the book, over three dozen giant trees fell in a tornado that swirled through our wooded yard and struck our house.
We are again dealing with epic-sized damage. But this time, I know we will make it through. As you consider the mountains you’ve managed in the last few years, few weeks, or few days, I’d love to hear how you made it to the other side. Because, as I somehow knew in that pre-pandemic post, even when the mountain itself still stands, if we find a way through it, the hardest part of the mountain really has moved.
And the One who has the power to empty out a grave will help you bore a tunnel right through. Even when you have to manage the same mountain more than once.
The One who has the power to empty out a grave
lori ann wood
will help you bore a tunnel right through. Even when you have to manage the same mountain more than once.
If you missed it, the original post can be found here.
If you prefer, listen to both parts here.
AND…Speaking of mountains, they often cause us to complain. There’s actually a healthy way to voice our disappointments to God. I will be teaching a free Zoom workshop as part of the Women Walking with God Virtual Summer Workshop Series. It all begins THIS Saturday morning with my “Getting Real with God” workshop, exploring the power and purpose of biblical lament.
Join us by simply adding yourself to their email list. Go to the Women Walking with God website and scroll down to “Be in the Know” to be included in the workshop.