I recently returned from a family vacation to the state of Washington. We started in Seattle, wound our way up through the Olympic Peninsula—Olympic National Park's mountain and Pacific vistas—across the Straight of Juan de Fuca to Victoria, Canada, before returning to Port Angeles, and then Seattle to see the extended family off.
My sister and I have quite a different approach to vacation. She has the daily itinerary planned, complete with confirmation numbers, a list of "must sees," and the like. Thank God for her. If it were up to me, we'd never see half the things she's researched and mapped out for the trip. That said, I don't feel I've officially had a vacation if it doesn't include at least one unplanned day that involves sleeping until I wake up without an alarm clock and seeing what kind of adventures are there to be discovered. So over time, I've learned to plan two days at the end of every family trip just to wing it without the rest of the group.
The Dream
This year's extra time was going to be spent at Mt. Rainier National Park. I was thrilled to discover just weeks before our trip that there was a room available at the National Park Inn inside the park itself, and I grabbed it. The inn's website features a YouTube video that shows the meadow across from the inn's expansive wooden porch, and just behind the meadow, Rainier's massive white peak glistening in the sunshine. I had no idea what we would do when we got there, but I was thrilled to have some time on the mountain again, and I pictured myself rocking on that porch with a cup of coffee as the sun rose over the peak.
The Promise
My first vacation to the Seattle area was in 2000, during which we made a day trip to Mt. Rainier. The skies were absolutely clear, a rarity for the park, and the sight of that majestic peak has stayed with me ever since. When Washington was chosen for this year's vacation spot, I knew Mt. Rainier would be on my agenda. As we flew into Seattle, we were again welcomed by a cloudless sky and the profile of the mountain towering behind the Seattle skyline. I was thrilled.
That evening, we traveled up the Space Needle—all 46 terrifying stories of it when you're afraid of heights—and were greeted by another spectacular vista with the mountain as backdrop.
As the week passed, the locals told us time and again what a rotten, cold, wetter-than-normal, spring it had been. The weather had cleared just in time for our arrival, and we enjoyed every minute of it. Time and again, I anticipated the time we would be spending within Mt. Rainier National Park. I just knew God had cleared the weather just for our trip.
So back to the end of the vacation... The extended family flew home, my son and I slept in, and now we had all day to make our way to the National Park Inn and explore this amazing mountain at our own pace.
From Bad to Worse
As we packed to leave the Seattle hotel, the day was a bit overcast, but it was forecasted to be only partly cloudy for the day. With the iPhone serving as GPS, Austin and I set out for Mt. Rainier with high hopes. The day became bluer and clearer as we moved into the early afternoon, but still no glimpse of the peak. Hmm—not what I expected but I was still not deterred.
We checked into the National Park Inn, headed out for our first nature trail, and then made our way up the mountain to the Paradise Visitor's Center, the highest paved point on the mountain. The hotel clerk told us that the high roads had just been cleared of snow within the past week, and that it might be tricky going, but we made it without incident. Snow still covered the mountain for most of the trip up, and several of the trails we'd planned to hike remained impassible due to the snow cover.
Along the way, we stopped frequently trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive peak, which had remained stubbornly hidden in the cloud cover. No luck. We could see some of the glaciers spreading down from Rainier's summit and the towering crests of the surrounding Cascades, but the peak remained hidden. This hide and seek game continued throughout the afternoon, and as the day progressed, the clouds descended further into the valleys.
Back at the National Park Inn, Austin and I enjoyed a wonderful dinner, then went out to the porch to watch the black-tailed deer that had crossed over from the meadow to graze. By this point not only was Mt. Rainier blanketed, but the peaks of the other Cascades had disappeared as well, down to the surrounding tree line.
The Parable
It was then that God showed me one of his object lessons. As I took in the cloud-shrouded meadow something occurred to me. If someone had been taken up to the park blindfolded, led to a rocker on the porch where I sat, and then asked where they were, only those familiar with the inn itself would have guessed they were sitting across from Mt. Rainier's peak. There was nothing visible to indicate we were in the mountains, much less on the most massive mountain in the Cascades. Given that scenario—taken blindfolded to the site—one would have to accept by faith that he or she was even there at all. One might even conclude that a joke was being played—after all, this could be the foothills of any mountain chain in the U.S., or even just a hilly region for that matter. The fact of the matter is, that one could be sitting where we were—actually on Mt. Rainier itself overlooking the shrouded peak—and never know there was even a peak around, much less a whole chain of them. In fact, one could resolutely refuse to believe the assurances of others in the group that the peak really was there, afraid of being played the fool or assuming it was just a ruse.
The Lesson
So how does all of this apply to where you are during the wait? Sometimes we have a dream to receive or experience something special in our lives, and over time we feel God's promise that this will come to pass. We may catch a glimpse of what is to be, receive a prophecy, or start down a path that seems clear and straightforward. Then somewhere along the way, when we should be getting closer to the fulfillment of the promise, attainment of the thing hoped for, things suddenly get very cloudy. Just when we seem to be arriving to the destination, life's storms blow in and shrowd the very promise that once appeared to be a stone's throw away. We hope, wait, and hold on, but rather than conditions improving, the clouds build and shrowd not only the promised land, but all of the surrounding countryside. Before long, we're left sitting in front of an impenetrable, mirky shroud of doubt that causes us to wonder whether we will ever actually reach the place of promise or whether we've come this far—made our escape from Egypt—only to "die in the wilderness."
Alternatively, maybe we've dared to dream, received the promise by faith, and then been taken blindfolded into an unknown land where we're assured by God that what we're looking for, hoping for, longing for is right in front of us. We simply have to believe enough to wait on the Lord to clear out the storms—the obstacles—standing between us and that summit. Will we wait, or will we fear being played the fool again (as we were before by others) or being part of some cosmic joke, and leave for a seemingly better destination, when we'd only needed to wait for the clouds to part so we could enter our land of destiny?
In Isaiah 43:18–19 (NIV, emphasis mine), our Father tells us: “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland."
We often get bound up in the experiences of our past and do not perceive the new thing that God is doing. We complain and fret about living with circumstances that are shrowded in uncertainty and we're often tempted to give up. But the Lord encourages us to allow him to give us strength and power so that we can withstand the wait:
"Why do you complain, Jacob? Why do you say, Israel, 'My way is hidden from the LORD; my cause is disregarded by my God'? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint" Isaiah 40:27–31 (NIV).
God's Timing
I never did get to see Rainier's peak while we were actually on the mountain, and I won't tell you that I was not disappointed. I prayed for God to blow away the clouds and the storm. I acknowledged his power to do so and fully believed he could if he wanted to. I waited, and continued to pursue a glimpse, but to no avail. The time came for us to drive back to Seattle to catch our flight home, and I had to accept that we weren't going to accomplish the primary purpose of our trip. I'd come all that way, seemingly for nothing.
Hope Renewed
As we got up the next morning and made our way to the airport, the weather was much worse than the previous day. The clouds had turned to showers, and the skies were dark. As our flight climbed heavenward, I was disappointed to hear passengers remark on the other side of the plane that they could see Mt. Rainier. This was seemingly my last chance of the trip, and I was missing it again while others were getting to enjoy the view. Even worse, the passengers across the aisle in my row had decided to watch a video and already had their window screens closed. Because of their disdain for the scenery, I was missing it too. Just my luck, I thought glumly.
Imagine my surpise when within minutes my son said he saw the mountain. I was sure he had to be mistaken, but while I had been sulking, we'd altered course and the peak was now visible from our side of the plane.
I watched in amazement as we passed by the mountain, able to grasp the majesty not only of the peak, but the surrounding rivers of snow and ice cascading from its summit. There was not one cloud in the sky.
In that moment I realized yet again that God's ways are higher than our ways and his thoughts higher than our thoughts. My dreams were realized of experiencing the beauty of the mountain on a much grander scale than I would have seen at ground level. It was only from his perspective—looking down from the heavenlies—that I was able to grasp all that was there, the extent of its wonder.
How like God. Though he had not worked things out according to my timing or plans, he worked them out none the less and gave me all I was hoping for and more. And he did it on what had started as the stormiest of days, when all hope had seemed lost for that trip. How like him to deliver on a promise and teach a lesson all at the same time.
While you wait on the Lord, don't give up on his promises to you, no matter how stormy your circumstances may get. The clouds don't change the reality of the promised land that you are standing on. Continue to wait on the Lord. Know that his plans are to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you hope and a future. Expect him to come through with exceedingly, abundantly above all you could ask or think. He's a good God and all good things come from him no matter how things may appear in the moment. When you least expect it, he'll part the clouds and reveal his majesty in a way that's sure to inspire awe. In the meantime, know that he loves you with an unfailing love and that his mercies endure forever.
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