The funny thing about a stumbling block is this: it's
always going to make you stumble. If it was just another ordinary block, you could jump over it. Or go around it. Possibly even crack it open by throwing another rock at it. But that's not the point. The point is, it's placed in your way for a reason.
To make you
stumble.
As I've yearned to leave the city and explore new opportunities, I'm convinced God has placed a stumbling block in my life. A block that always makes my life difficult. That convicts me of my selfishness and points out how stubborn I am. I think I mostly just want to stand there and kick it. I've named it, recently. "Colorado"
. Yet I'm learning that stumbling blocks (at least mine) aren't always bad. Refining block may even be a more suitable name.
Let me explain:
I've been trying to live in the mountains since I was old enough to comprehend pictures of mountains. My mom thought a trip to the Rockies in high school would cure this, but needless to say, it didn't. I graduated college in a career that practically requires mountains, yet the job that God laid before me was in the heart of a major city. Stumbling block sighting numero uno.
The truth is, living in the city and working in the mountains has taught me. A lot. I've learned to navigate around always being with people, figure out how to drive the winding streets of Pittsburgh, understand how to be in the middle of nowhere one day and in downtown the next. I see why the kingdom of heaven will be like a city, full of God's people all living together in community. I see the brokenness of the woods in a different way than the brokenness of the city. I see the hope in both places differently now too. "Colorado" and my hope for the mountains faded as I tried to learn to love the place I was in. I committed to three years in this place.
So this year marks my third year. I started re-evaluating. I spent a chunk of my summer in the high places of Wyoming, which got me thinking of the mountains all over again. Suddenly, the possibility seemed like it could be a reality.
Maybe this time around, Lord? Is now the right time? These were my questions as summer faded and fall began. And I felt a kind of urgency to say "yes" to the mountains. There were lots of reasons, but a major factor was the location and my lack of full-support over the years. I talked with my supervisor about the possibility of me leaving. A few days later, an email showed up with a woman asking if there were any positions available in my department. The crazy part? She was looking for a position identical to mine. That seemed like affirmation from God to me!
Yet there it was. Right in the middle of the path. My stumbling block. My "Colorado"
. As I started filling out applications, having discussions and kept on living life - things started shifting. For one, I was actually in the same place at the same time with my boyfriend. Which was a change from our status of being in different countries for four months. And it was good. Then there was my support-raising, which, without any prompting or due diligence on my part, suddenly increased in monthly donations. I went from 32% to 95%. In less than three months. That was most definitely good!
And that's when I began questioning my leaving. Or at least, questioning the conflicting signals I felt I was receiving. A green light to go. A green light to stay.
How can opposing traffic lights have the same signal? I wondered aloud.
I prayed. I talked to people in my community. I wanted to know that leaving was okay. That I wasn't crazy. Yet after all the talking was done and the time to give a decision came about, I realized that all the answers pointed toward...my stumbling block. They all entertained the idea and notions that I could go around it, over it, or just plain move it; but that perhaps the best thing was to simply - stay. Stay right there, in front of it.
 |
| Seemingly arbitrary placement of rock - you'd be puzzled too! |
What the heck, rock! is what I wanted to shout.
There's a thousand other places you could place yourself, but you always place yourself between me and the mountains! I just stood there. Staring.
And I realized some things standing there. Staring at my "Colorado"
. My stumbling block had nothing to do with the actual, physical location of Colorado. Or any mountain state, for that matter. It represented my desire for that place. It was as if God placed all my selfishness into a single rock, one that He set right before me every time there was a decision to make. (Thus, one could conclude that apparently a lot of my decisions revolve around moving to the mountains.) And boy, it is hard to stare at your own selfishness!
So I am staying.
Not because I am settling, but because I see hope. Hope that the good things God has started here will continue. Hope that God is chiseling away on my stumbling block so that there will be a time when I can walk right over it. It still frustrates me in a way that that time is not now. But if I have waited this long, I can wait a little longer.
Things at work aren't going to stay the same. I'm moving out of the city a little ways, to a quieter place. I'm changing positions, as the woman I mentioned above has accepted my current position. As of this summer, I'll be moving from a part-time resource for XD to a full-time resource. Which means, among other things, more trips to the mountains...
