My stomach churned. My head began its slow throbbing. I tried to take deep breaths and remind myself that my circumstances didn’t determine my praise of God. I was on a Nepali bus, squished, listening to the loud cry of the Indian music, and being tossed back and forth by the bumpy roads that were leading straight up the mountain. I only had a 30 minute bus ride to prepare a sermon that I would be giving to a church a 2 hour hike into the wilderness. It was clear I was in a sour mood. My body had not approved of the adjustment from the of bush Africa to the cold Himalaya mountains of Nepal. I sniffled, closed my eyes, and prayed a silent prayer that God would just get me through one more day… get me through one more step. Little did I know that prayer would be what I repeated to myself all day. And little did I know that prayer would become a way of worshipping my God. Once we got off the bus we began our walk through the Nepal wilderness. My breathe was taken away and it wasn’t because I was sick and practically climbing mount Everest. This world was much wider than i ever imagined. I took a deep breath, the first breathe of no pollution I had for a week and easily placed one step in front of the other. After climbing for an hour we stopped at house where a woman lived. Half of her body had become paralyzed from unknown causes. We all placed our hands on her and prayed and afterward she began yelling out in joy (not in words because she was unable to talk) but then began to pull each of us into her lap and give our faces a million kisses. It might have been a simple prayer of peace and healing but in the eyes of this woman we were the hands and feet of joy. We were the hands and feet that had come from the other side of the world just to tell her that God loved her, that we wouldn’t forget her, that she should continue to have faith and hope. It was a powerful momemt. We then continued our March down the mountain. We made it to the church and had fellowship, I read my sermon and prayed fervently that it was Gods words and not my own and then before I knew it we were leaving and beginning our trek back home. I was relieved thinking the next 2 hours would be mindless walking but…. But I was wrong. After stopping for a 30 minute tea and cookie break we were informed that we would be climbing straight up the mountain for an hour instead of taking the long way around that would normally take 2 hours.
So my teammates rallied their strength and filled with cookies and the holy spirit we began the most difficult hike of my life. My body cried out in pain with each step I took but so did my soul… Lord just get me through one more step, Lord remind me of your goodness, Lord just get me through one. More. Step. And the Lord is faithful and I indeed made it to the top of the mountain believing that I would never ever again have to endure that horrendous hill. Well That is until our ministry host mentioned to us that we were going to walk back down the other side of the mountain again because the pastor of the church had prepared a late lunch for us at his house. Not only did we walk back down the mountain and eat lunch with the pastors family but soon realized we had to make it up the mountain in less than 40 minutes in order to catch the very last bus that would take us home. This time with true discouragement and a mixture of sweat and tears we climbed back up the mountain and the whole time I prayed…. Lord! Get me up the mountain! Lord. Help me to take just one more step. And that hike…. that should have taken us at least an hour took us 12 minutes. It was a true miracle from the Lord. We made it back to catch the last bus home…. and through it all the Lord was faithful. He gave me exactly what I needed when I needed it. He gave me the ability to take deep gulps of mountain Nepal air into my healthy lungs. He gave me the ability to sweat, to be drenched to cool off my body and exactly enough water to replenish it. He gave me a voice to cry out and use to speak life into other believers. He gave me legs strong enough to climb and face anything. He gave me the ability to take one more step. And when I looked back on the day I remembered the woman, who for years had been paralyzed unable to talk or walk, and how still all she could do was cry out in joy to the Lord. The thought humbles me and I thank the Lord for my ability to take steps.
I continue to take steps everyday…. it’s what I do with those steps that matter. Where I am going and how I am bringing the kingdom. The steps of faith in the Lord. Steps of choosing to be thankful and praise the Lord no matter my circumstances. And with every step I take I want to be grounded in the Lord.
