It was a beautiful morning. The trees, refreshed by the cool night, were joyfully scenting the air. The air was fresh and invigorating. It was a great morning for a power trip.
I pushed up the hill, underneath the high voltage power lines, to a favourite lookout. I needed power, but not the power that BC Hydro could offer. What I needed was strength to face another day the right way. I wanted answers to life’s perplexing questions. I needed wisdom and discernment for life in a world that’s being shaken upside down. I wanted to see the path ahead of me.
I pulled out my Bible and started to read, but I kept on getting distracted. On a previous power trip to this location, my mind had been clear, and I had learned a lot about end-time applications of Psalm 18 and 2 Samuel 22. I had learned that the strength and deliverance that God gave to King David are figurative of what God will do for His people when their enemies rise up against them. But today I wasn’t learning anything.
I looked across the valley to Mount Askom. The low-angle morning light livened its rugged features, bringing back memories of the fun and adventures the mountain had given me. As my eyes wandered down the valley, they took note of other mountains, separated by little valleys where clear creeks tumbled their way into the Fraser. Looking North, I traced the line where a favourite bike trail runs. So many adventures. So many memories. So much potential for more. This valley, in the rain shadow of the majestic Coastal Mountains, had become my favourite place on the planet.
Then my eyes settled down to the school where I had worked for the past six years. I remembered making the choice to work for a lot less money than I had earned before, even though I knew the work would be no less stressful. I remembered putting my best efforts into my work, going above the requirements in attempts to make things better – only to see my work become worthless as plans changed.
I also remembered that I had learned so much in my time at the school. Machinery operation, construction skills, infrastructure maintenance, agricultural methods – and more importantly, how to work with people. I remembered learning skills from dozens of fun experiences, such as canoe campouts with the students. I remembered that I had also learned about God as I gained these experiences.
I recalled the life-shaking day in March, when the school had been forced to send all the students home because of Covid’s leverage. Wet cheeks had given evidence of just how much their time here had meant to both students and staff. Many students had grown remarkably during their time here – both in ability and character. That day, when the world seemed so uncertain, I had seen with certainty that investing in people is the best possible investment to make.
Maybe my distracted thoughts weren’t a distraction after all. The path I saw behind me was better than any route I could have planned for my life. The path behind me had given me purpose and fulfilment beyond what I had asked for. The challenges behind me had played key roles in making me who I am. I still couldn’t see the path ahead of me, but that was okay; because looking back, I could see what God has been trying to tell me all along: “I love you; you can trust Me.”
“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” -Jeremiah 29:11
And that’s how God’s thoughts are for you.