Why is it so easy to go from feeling the presence of God beside you to living as if only what is visible exists?

Have you ever tried to see the world the way one of the Bible heroes did? I try to imagine the fear and wonder that overcame Moses when he saw God on Mt. Sinai. If I could experience that, I think, surely heaven wouldn’t seem so far away. Before I started studying the book of Exodus (and imagining myself hear a bush talk, confront Pharaoh, etc.), I considered Israel’s flip-flopping between worship and treachery from a bit of a pedestal. How could people who literally saw the presence of God turn and grumble against him the minute things got hard – over and over again? One of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned from Israel’s history is that, while their vacillation was quite dramatic, my own heart follows the same pattern – even with the Holy Spirit within me.

I was praying the other day – on my knees and beyond words. I was overcome with emotion and my mind was wholly consumed by a picture of my future home waiting for me in heaven. I finished praying and, before I’d even stood up, I reached for my phone and Diet Coke, ready to move on with the day. It took about ten seconds to notice how dramatically my focus had changed. I glanced around the living room, at the blue couch pillows and the Fall decorations on the mantel. It was all so real, so concrete. I tried to cajole my brain into seeing – as I just had – the eternality of heaven, with the earth being the truly ephemeral. It didn’t work.

Long ago, I heard Bebo Norman’s song, “Walk Down This Mountain” while on a spiritual high. I say “spiritual” because, at that time, I really had no clue what it meant to live as a Christian and, when life returned to normal, I had no interest in finding out. When I descended from that high back into the visible, tangible world, the pleasures and pains of life drew my gaze away from God. Here we are 20 years later, and the song popped up on my Apple Music feed. The melody brought a wave of nostalgia, but it was the lyrics that snagged my attention. I don’t know if what I hear in the lyrics is what Bebo Norman meant in writing it, but for me, hearing it with more mature ears was revelatory.

I haven’t written even a paragraph in months, not due to time constraints or lack of subject matter. Most of my life lately has just felt… uninspired. After a year and a half of treasuring every moment I was studying the Bible, of learning, writing, and singing truth, I felt flat. I haven’t been depressed or unhappy – in fact, I’ve had countless joyful days – but studying the Word has become work. The creature comforts of my home and the dreary sky outside have become the only reality I can consistently perceive.

Why is it so hard to keep our minds turned to the things that matter? When did money, power, and even just comfort and health become what consume our time and energy? As for the latter question, I think Adam and Eve could offer some insight. Their downfall, of course, also answers the first question. Though Jesus defeated the power of sin when he died on the cross, it has not yet left our world. We, as fallen humans, will constantly feel the pull of sin enticing us away from the presence of God. After all, if we didn’t, a sinless life would be possible and Jesus’ death and resurrection would be superfluous. Sin still darkens the world and even the most faithful Christians are sometimes blinded. It is grace alone, through faith, that keeps the darkness at bay.

In this life, in this world, we will not be able to spend all our time in bliss at God’s feet on Mt. Zion. Sin will always drag us back down that holy mountain, but know that the fallenness of our world should also be what draws us back. The ruler of the earth is still reigning, which means the world needs all the salt and light it can get. It is so easy to live a compartmentalized life – to seek God and feel your heart fill with the unadulterated light of heaven, only to turn and devote all your energy to the pursuit of the visible.

All Christians will tread both mountains and valleys and all of us will sometimes be blind to the light of heaven. Thanks be to God that he has given us each other. Every believer throughout the world bears a flame, the presence of God within us. It’s not when we’re on the mountaintop that we need its light. That’s why we are all still here; heaven is greater by far, but there is still work to be done. We must hold our hearts high and cling to the light within us or follow the lights surrounding us.

God’s promise to us in Psalm 23 is that even the valley of the shadow of death cannot snatch us from his hand. So, be kind, love each other, and never give up, because it could be your light that’s guiding someone else through their valley.