I was uncomfortable.
I was starting to feel sick.
My arms were weak from keeping my body from sliding into the tailgate, while the truck was driving at what seemed to be a 90 degree angle.
Every bump created a new pain in my butt.
However, during the 30 minutes of continuous discomfort… I prided myself that I was "suffering"
for a good cause, that I was "suffering" for God.
Well, the funny the about pride is… God doesn't really like it. And like many of my prideful moments, I am quickly put in my place. The reason we were trekking up this mountain was to visit Marta and her family.
Marta is an amazing woman, with the kind of faith most people would love to have but never achieve. She has gone through so much, but nothing can shake her faith.
Her brother is in jail, and her sister-in-law is dead so she is taking care of her 4 nephews along with her own 4 children.
Her mom was hit by a motorcycle and has been recovering in her house.
Her husband is an alcoholic and is abusive.
Her 15 year old daughter tried to commit suicide last year, but by the grace of God was saved.
But here is he amazing part:
After having to ask permission from her husband, Marta walks down that same mountain that I was "suffering" up, to go to church every Sunday. She gets there early so she can help set up chairs. Then, after church, she walks the three long hours back.
She walks for 6 hours up and down a steep, muddy mountain. She approaches her abusive husband for permission that he doesn't always freely give. She comes earlier than she has to, to serve. All this for 2 hours of church.
That's the kind of faith we should have.
That is real suffering.
So, when I was saying my goodbyes and bracing myself for the venture back down the mountain, I thanked God for the continuous lessons He is teaching me.
