Dec 7

The Saturday Journal: Go Up to the Mountain

The book of Haggai–it’s one fold in the Old Testament–two pages–two chapters. Haggai was a prophet bringing word to Judah as the people were living in “cieled” houses–houses with interior walls lined with cedar and other expensive woods. While the temple of the Lord was “neglected”, “laying in waste”.

Thus saith the Lord of hosts; Consider your ways. Go up to the mountain, and bring wood, and build the house; and I will take pleasure in it, and I will be glorified, saith the Lord.” (Haggai 1:7-8)

Go up to the mountain.

Bring wood.

Build the house.

It’s been in excess of 50 days now since Hurricane Helene hit western North Carolina and there are still families displaced–living in campers, tents, and homes–that are not their own. And Samaritan’s Purse just announced they will be constructing 500 homes in the areas where homes are needed--and there is more of this Holy work happening...from individuals, churches, organizations...

Go up to the mountain.

Bring wood.

Build the house.

I heard a pastor say just this week–the church building is the most neglected piece of real estate there is–with their doors only open maybe two days a week–some more. It’s true–I agree with him. But as of late–every single day in some of these small mountain towns–the church doors are open wide. Long hours. Daily.

I visited one this week.

I went up to the mountain.

My Mama has been sewing these stuffed animals and she asked me to take her gifts to Ashe County–one of her friends lives there.

And on this bitter cold morning–the wind was whipping–showing no mercy. And I saw debris still lingering in tree branches on riverbanks–the water flowing in rhythm with the wind. It’s hard to wrap a mind around something so gentle–something that flows so quietly–how in a moment’s notice can become death and destruction.

I drive up to this church and volunteers are already working–many still wearing their coats–scurrying about filling shelves with laundry detergent, batteries, propane heaters, blankets, towels, clothes, shoes, baby formula, and more. Another young boy unloads fresh fruit and supplies are being moved into the sanctuary–to help with the overflow. It’s chaotic–it’s rushed. I see hope. I see love.

A lady walks in and she smiles and I ask her if she’s a member of this particular church and she says no–I just came to help. Another lady–small in size carrying an empty brown paper grocery bag enters through the door before the “official opening time” and no one tells her to come back–no one tells her the church doesn’t open until 11. And I watch as she timidly shops for her needs.

I’ve heard reports and read of people coming through church doors who have never stepped foot in a sanctuary. And now they are coming for supplies, meals, comfort, and hope. How one man didn’t want to come in and receive a much-needed hot meal if his dog couldn’t come with him. And the pastor of this particular church said, ‘Sir, you are welcome and your dog is too.’

And I think about these words of God–given to Haggai. How the words apply to us today–how the Bible is the Living Word–speaking to us. We may not be constructing an actual temple like in Haggai’s days–but we are building God’s house in different ways–here and now–to those in need.

Go up to the mountain–we don’t all have to physically go up to the mountain–but we can go in prayer–for them.

Bring wood–a provision–wood is needed for rebuilding–heat is a must have–so is food–fresh water–clothing–supplies–we can all help in some way.

Build the house–build God’s kingdom through serving in hope and love.

Like Ruth, who built hope when she went to the fields and reaped bits of grain for food for her widowed mother-in-law and she, too, was struggling as a young widow herself on unfamiliar soil.

Like Nehemiah, he built hope when he placed his faith in God–strengthening his hands for the good work of the Lord–rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem.

Like Esther, she built hope–sacrificing her very life for those of her people.

Hope is not a wish–Hope is a certainty in Jesus.

And we each can build hope for others–Go up to the mountain. Bring wood. Build the house.

Here in these mountains on this day–the roads look weary–the trees–tired–like many of the workers and volunteers in these communities are feeling deep within their bones. And still, they carry on–serving for hope’s sake–for love’s sake.

This week, this man shared this story with me about his friend–how the waters raged outside his friend’s home–and how his companion of many years–his cat became scared and jumped out the window. Now this was no ordinary pet–his owner is a truck driver and this cat was his sidekick–his wingman–going everywhere he traveled.

After the storm the man went searching for his beloved pet and found tracks–those he believed was his cat along with a set of coyote tracks. The man went home, distraught.

But the story doesn't end there. After some 51 days later, hope showed up and his cat returned home. Safe--a little worn for wear–missing his tail, but safe.

And before leaving the mountain on this day, I look over the hill and in the distance stands three crosses. And we are never without Hope.

Blessed is the man that trusteth in the LORD, and whose hope the LORD is–Jeremiah 17:7

The Lord is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in Him–Lamentations 3:24

Prayerfully, next week–mid week, I will be sharing a story on the needs in Ashe County from the perspective of two pastors who are working diligently alongside their congregations and volunteers for the communities of Warrensville and Lansing. They will be sharing what we can do to bring hope to those in need in their areas.

Go up to the mountain.

Bring wood.

Build the house.