Climbing Down The Mountain

September 12, 2009


How do I get down from here?

The hike up to the summit was much more difficult than I had imagined. It took me fully two hours to reach my objective, and at 12,000+ ft in altitude I was gasping for breath for at least 20 minutes. The view from the top, however, was absolutely magnificent.


The previous afternoon I’d dropped Daphne, Nicole and Jacqueline off at the Denver airport for their flight back to France. Knowing that I needed some time to the Lord and reflect on our incredible summer, I decided to accept a dear friend’s offer to stay in her family’s cabin in Montezuma, Colorado. That morning I was looking up at the peak that dominates the skyline, and decided to hike up near the top to explore what appeared to be an abandoned mine. Without realizing it I had actually driven BEHIND the first mountain to another peak, so when I reached the top I found no signs of any mine. As I sat there breathing the sweet mountain air and admiring the incredible canvass the Lord had painted before me, I asked Him to speak to my heart by His Spirit and help me to find answers to my many questions: Where are we going? What does the future hold? Should we leave staff? Where should we live... I didn’t sense anything from Him at that time, but little did I know what was about to happen. I knew I should start down the mountain, and I felt sure I could find a short cut that would be faster than the way I’d come up. I walked over the ridge and started down, but it didn’t take me very long to realize that I was in trouble: I was heading down a rock face, and I’d already gone past the point of no return – there was no choice but to climb down. The next 30 minutes were possibly the most terrifying of my life. I was all alone, and no one knew where I was. I could easily fall and break my legs or worse, and it could be days before I would be found. All these thoughts were racing through my mind as I tried to pick the least dangerous route, and my legs were trembling like two sewing machines. So I prayed; ‘Lord, I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to leave Daphne and the girls. I can’t see how to get down – please show me the way.’ I glanced to my right and I could see a fairly stable place a few feet down (the rocks were shale, and easily broke off under my hands). I reached the ledge, and was again faced with the same predicament, and prayed the same prayer. I must have cried out to the Lord 10 or 15 times as I climbed down, and each time the Lord would show me one more ledge or spot I could reach. At no point in my descent could I see further than the next spot I could jump to – which was probably a good thing because once I got to the bottom and looked up, I could not believe what I’d just climbed down. I took this picture on my way up, but it shows the summit of the peak and the route I took down. By the time I finally reached level ground my legs and hands were completely scraped and bloodied, but I was alive and deeply grateful to the Lord.





There is a point to this story. I was disappointed that the Lord didn’t speak to me on the mountain that day, but only a short time ago it dawned on me that He did – and in a dramatic way. My descent down the rock face was a graphic, physical illustration of the spiritual journey our family has been on for the past 12 months. Over and over Daphne and I have found ourselves overwhelmed, frightened or uncertain of the next step to take, and each and every time the Lord would show us the next “ledge” to reach for. Just like my climb down the mountain, the Lord has never shown us more than one step in the journey at a time. Some of those steps have seemed illogical or nonsensical to us… only to discover two steps further down why the illogical thing proved to be perfectly logical. So many times in my life I’ve said to the Lord, “what you’re asking me to do doesn’t make “sense”, so I’m not going to do it…” thereby effectively forcing the Lord to take me down a longer, more painful route.



As we’ve walked through the past nine weeks, He has led me step by step a long way down the mountain:

1. (Early July) Return to the States after reaching a point of burn-out, and get the rest and care that you so desperately need.

2. Face up to your own, internal “issues” and dysfunctions, and allow Me to bring healing and wholeness in those areas.

3. Acknowledge the reality that you cannot return to the NAMESTAN roles you’ve filled for the past ten years, and take the risky faith-step to resign.

4. Allow yourself the freedom to dream, and let Me fill your hearts with a new vision for your family and your future.

5. And finally and most recently: understand that the time has come for you to move your family back to the United States, and to a chapter that is only now being written.



While the decision to resign from my multiple roles in the NAMESTAN team was difficult, it pales in comparison to the decision to sell our home in France, say goodbye to some of the dearest and deepest friendships we have, and move back to America. We have felt the freedom from the Lord to follow the desire of our hearts, and we have therefore decided to settle in Conifer, Colorado – an easy drive from my (Jim’s) sister Cathi and her family. The timing of our move is uncertain, as much will depend on how quickly we are able to sell our home in France. I will fly back on the 16th of this month for a much-anticipated and longed-for reunion with Daphne and our girls. This is the longest I have ever been separated from them, and my heart is really aching.


I realize that our transition period will be tough on our family and our team, and I am trying to be emotionally prepared for the many tears and potentially difficult conversations ahead of us. No matter how many times we move, or how many good-byes we say, it NEVER gets any easier. We cherish your prayers as we walk through the coming weeks and months, and as we wait upon the Lord to show us the next step down the mountain.