A Sacrifice of Pause

It became clear to me that I needed to truly prioritize my heart over the mountain. My soul over my status. As soon as I stopped trying to expand, enlarge, prove, or sustain my career and what I thought was my God-given assignment, I was able to evaluate myself truthfully.

In Matthew 16:24, Jesus told his disciples that if they wanted to follow him, they would have to “take up their cross,” which meant being down for anything—even death—for the cause of Christ.

I could have—and you can—prayed and done my best to be still and psych myself into five minutes of not thinking about work, but truly walking back down to the valley, stripping off the mountain mindset, is going to take a while. It requires a sacrificial approach to sabbatical, a sacrificial reprioritization of values, and a willingness to follow Jesus fully.

It’s not uncommon to hear believers bring a monetary sacrifice to God. We look at our account balance, sigh, and ponder our next faith move. It’s not uncommon to hear a worship leader encourage us to bring a sacrifice of praise. It’s a lot less common to hear about a sacrifice of pause. That means asking ourselves if stopping to look inward and hear God is tenable, even if it may cost us progress up the mountain.

Descending can feel awkward, clumsy, and uncertain. But coming down is well worth it. Whatever invincibility, power, and safety we feel on the way up are washed away when we’re looking down, doing something less natural and less rehearsed. Rather than might, it takes a lot of faith, patience, and focus. Rather than a constant fight against gravity, we’re giving gravity more sway.

So I had to be intentional the entire way down, even though I wasn’t sure what would happen if I made myself “of no reputation” (Philippians 2:7) and came down from my knockoff brand of glory. More than anything, the pause takes faith—that God is real, that he thinks of me as his child, wants me home, and will draw near to me as I draw near to him.

Thank you, God, that you lead me to the valley, to a place where you will hold me close, heal my hurts, and restore my soul for the next chapter of my journey with You. Amen.