The Mountaintop is Calling

Mountains: awe-inspiring, immovable, newly conquered peaks that spring into

minds at the very thought of them. When I think of mountains, I immediately

imagine blue skies, puffy white clouds and snow-covered peaks glinting in the

sunlight.

I was recently asked what I think of mountains when it comes to my faith, and I

surprisingly didn’t hesitate. I immediately pictured a peak, a destination to conquer,

but I realized that my perspective was from a valley. A friend and I always say

“we’ve camped in valleys together, and stood on mountain peaks.” Lately, my entire

life has felt like a long valley, and that mountain peak, unreachable. A string of

significant losses has left me lost. Unsure of where to turn, unsure if I even wanted

to take another step, the valley became my home.

But that mountain, it’s always there, somewhere above me, calling and beckoning

me to keep moving. The top is there, just waiting for me to climb. That’s how is it

with faith. We think that it is God that has moved far away from us, yet the Bible

says in Matthew 28:20 “and behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” We

are the ones that are constantly in motion and most often than not, we move away

from God. Just as the mountain is always in my view, God is always there, always

waiting, but I must make the first step.  I found myself in a place that I’m sure many

of you have found yourself before: mistrust, doubt, confusion. When it seems that

we fully give God the reigns to our life, He takes us down a road that we would never

have chosen. A road that looks twisted and scary right from the first step. That first

step that we never would have chosen but we somehow found ourselves taking.  

That first step for me came in June of 2018 with one phone call that changed

everything; the first time that the word “cancer” started its silent spread over my

life. My mom called with the news that she had cancer. That was the first step I

never would have chosen for her, for me, for my family, for anyone in my life. If I had

my way the next words out of her mouth would be, “don’t worry, we found it early

enough and it’s completely beatable.” That is not what happened. The next few

months were steps farther and farther down that twisted and dark road that I would

have rather pulled a U-turn on. I claimed that I was completely trusting in God and

His plan during this time. I said the right things, I quoted the right versus, but on the

inside, I was screaming, lost, scared, and beyond confused. You see, my dad had died

suddenly on January 1 st , 2017. I thought that I had taken my share of grief, that I was

in the clear and that my only remaining parent would live for years. I never

envisioned that I would be parentless by the age of 32. After a short but well fought

battle with cancer, my beautiful and courageous mom passed away on October 29 th ,

2018.  My world collapsed. I trusted God with my life, yet I was standing watching

the wreckage of what I knew. I had given Him control over my life and His choices

for me were not at all what I wanted, or what I thought I deserved. The valley I was

in since my dad’s passing was supposed to end, not get deeper. How can I trust a

God who did this to me? How can I allow Him to take control of my life again? If God

wanted me in a valley, well, He did a good job making sure I would stay there a long

time.

It took me a while to see it but God did give me a mountain to stand on in the days

before my mom’s passing. I was the only believer in my immediate family and I was

praying hard for my mom’s salvation. That she would accept Jesus Christ as her Lord

and Savior and be welcomed into His arms when she breathed her last breath on

earth. That is exactly what happened. Four days before she died, she came to know

the Lord. What a miracle! I was so happy, so grateful, so at peace. And then she died.

I think I was still hoping for a miracle. The doctors and nurses were not giving any

hope; the conversations were about palliative care, about making her comfortable. I

heard them, I listened and agreed, but in my heart, I thought that God would use this

illness as a way to call people to Him. To show His absolute power and allow my

mom to walk out of the hospital, whole and healed. What better testimony than

complete healing from stage four lung cancer with multiple metastases? You can’t

get more miraculous than that. When I walked into that hospital room after she

passed, already knowing what to expect based on my Aunt’s voice, the anger and

disbelief that overtook me was intense. I instantly questioned His plan, His

goodness. Surely this was not what He meant? But He did.

How quickly we forget the awe-inspiring mountaintop. How quickly we forget the

sunshine on our skin and the goodness of that moment. It’s sad how long it took me

to realize that the mountain He gave to my Mom of salvation, He also gave to me,

knowing that I would need it. He knew that on the hardest and darkest nights, I

would cling to the knowledge that she was in Heaven, singing His praises, smiling

and pain-free. He knew that because He knows my heart. He knows that I will

question Him, that I will wrestle with His path for me and He asks me to bring it to

Him. He grieves for me, the same way that I grieve for the loss of my parents. 

I’m still in the valley. I still question God’s plan, but I also know that I have learned

more in the last ten months than any other time in my life. I know that God will use

this valley to help me grow, to change me and to make me more like Him. I have to

trust; I have to give Him back the reigns. He will lead me to a mountaintop again. I

will stand on the peak, fully in the sun and marvel at His goodness and the path that

brought me there. That moment is coming and that moment will fill my soul. But,

that moment is not more important in my walk with Jesus than this place in the

valley. In fact, without the valleys, we can’t appreciate the height of the mountain.

The mountaintop is calling. I just have to take the first step.

By: Katie Oppenlaender, Guest Writer