September 10 - Lord, What Is My Mountain?

By Connie Hale Duncan

Connie is LSA's Visitation Pastor, and on Sunday mornings you will meet her in the Chapel after the service - willing to pray with you. God has given her the gift of understanding and helping people. The next two days devotions are written by her, and they will help you face difficult situations. You may want to pass them along to family/friends who are experiencing tough times.

Matthew 21:21–22

“If ye have faith, and doubt not… if ye shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea; it shall be done. And all things, whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive.”

Lord, what does this mean?

What is the mountain?

Surely You are speaking about more than a mountain made of rock.

Could the mountain be an addiction that seems impossible to overcome?

Could it be a memory that continues to haunt me no matter how hard I try to forget?

Could it be an illness I have prayed again and again for You to heal?

Could it be a broken heart, a shattered relationship, grief, fear, rejection, disappointment, or a situation that seems absolutely impossible?

Perhaps the mountain is anything that stands before me and causes me to say,

“Lord, I cannot move this.”

And maybe that is exactly the point.

I cannot—but You can.

You tell me to speak to the mountain in faith. You tell me to pray and believe.

But, Lord, I am learning that faith does not mean that I can simply name whatever I want and You must give it to me.

Faith means that I bring my mountain to You.

I ask.

I seek.

I knock.

I believe.

But ultimately I surrender my request to Your heart, Your wisdom, Your will and Your plans.

Because sometimes I ask You to move a mountain, and You move it.

Sometimes I ask You to move a mountain, and instead You lead me around it.

Sometimes You take me over it.

And sometimes, Lord, You allow the mountain to remain because there is something You are teaching me while I stand before it.

Perhaps the mountain I am asking You to remove is the very place where I will learn to trust You most deeply.

And what does it mean to “cast it into the sea”?

Perhaps You are telling me that what looks immovable to me is not immovable to You.

The mountain that towers over me can disappear beneath the vastness of Your power.

Maybe I need to cast my mountain into the sea of surrender.

To let go of my need to control the outcome.

To cast my fears into the sea.

My doubts into the sea.

My questions into the sea.

My “What ifs?” into the sea.

And then stand before You and say,

“Lord, I believe You.”

Not merely, “I believe You will give me exactly what I ask.”

But something much deeper:

I believe You are good even when the mountain remains.

I believe You are faithful when I don't understand.

I believe Your plans are greater than mine.

I believe nothing is impossible for You.

And I believe that whatever You choose to do with my mountain, You will not leave me standing before it alone.

Lord, perhaps mountain-moving faith isn't about convincing myself strongly enough that something will happen.

Perhaps mountain-moving faith is knowing Who stands beside me when the impossible stands in front of me.

So today I will bring You my mountain.

I will ask You to move it.

I will believe that You can.

But then I will place it into Your hands and pray the prayer Jesus Himself prayed:

“Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.”
 — Luke 22:42

If You move my mountain, I will praise You.

If You lead me through my mountain, I will trust You.

And if the mountain remains for a season, I will still worship You.

Because my faith is not in whether the mountain moves.

My faith is in You.

Amen.

Our song for today is Trust in You by Lauren Daigle.