SubscribeGoing through mountain tunnels with faith
Highway tunnels like the four through mountains on the Pennsylvania Turnpike are marvels of engineering and hard work. I remain fascinated by the skill and care it took to dig and dynamite through tons of solid rock to construct a path through the mountains so that travelers do not have spend hours climbing up or going around them. Conceived during the Great Depression, the tunnels have provided decades of safe travel for millions of people.
I experienced the tunnels first-hand last week when I took the turnpike to Ohio to pick up my daughter and her stuff from college. With my friend, Sherry (who offers her own take on one particular tunnel in her Auction Finds blog), who had come along for the road trip, we navigated gingerly through the rain on the first leg of the trip and breezed along the turnpike enjoying the clear skies on the return. We passed through the Blue, Kittatinny, Tuscarora and Allegheny Mountain tunnels, each way.
For me, tunnels are spooky places. They are dark, despite the lighting overhead, closed in and sometimes filled with fumes. Going through some tunnels, like the first and last one on my trip—the Fort McHenry Tunnel on I-95 North in Baltimore, always gives me pause. What if it collapses while I’m in? Will water from Baltimore Harbor gush in and trap me? Will rubble crush me? I usually go as fast as the speed limit allows and focus on the light at the end of the tunnel that signals the way out.
On the Turnpike, I noticed several rules of tunnel travel that have some resonance for those of us on our faith journeys. As they entered each tunnel, drivers are told to remove their sunglasses, stay in their lane and obey the speed limit.
In my own tunnel times, those seasons when fear, disappointment, anger or depression have trapped me in what seems a dark, cramped place, I have learned to summon up my faith in God to help me through to the other side of my mountain. To get to the hope that resides in me, despite the darkness that sometimes seeks to consume me, I am learning to:
Remove the sunglasses. I have come to know myself well enough to know when I am heading into a personal tunnel where I feel the walls of life closing in on me. At those times, I stop and take note of the blinders that hinder me from seeing the light of God yet shining. Just like the lights illuminating the tunnels on the Turnpike, God is always a light in dark places. We dim that light when we allow our vision to become obscured by the circumstances confronting us.
Stay in your lane. For safety sake, drivers are a told to remain in the same lane during their time in the tunnel. On our faith journeys, it’s also important not to stray from our place of safety in Christ. It’s easy in crisis to wander from place to place or person to person seeking comfort, validation or happiness but if we stay on course, God is faithful to bring us through our rough patches.
Obey the speed limit. There have been times when I have rushed ahead of God to get through my tunnel time without realizing that He called me to that particular season so that I could draw closer to Him. When I am trusting Him with the outcome of my situation, I am not prone to be impulsive. When I obey God’s Word and live my life accordingly, I can maintain my equilibrium and have a measure of peace when such times come. While going through my mountain-like situations, I can do as the Scripture says “Be still and know that I am God.”
Over the years, I’ve been developing a kind of spiritual tunnel vision. It is akin to the tunnel vision that noted author and psychiatrist, M. Scott Peck, described in his bestselling book, “The Road Less Travelled.” He said this about some patients:
“These patients are able to see only a narrow area directly in front of them. They cannot see anything to the left or to the right, above or below their narrow focus. They cannot see two objects adjacent to each other at the same time; they can only see one thing at a time and must turn their heads if they are to see another. They liken this symptom to looking down a tunnel, being able to see only a small circle of light and clarity at the end.”
In my tunnel times, I am learning to fix my focus on God. He is my Light at the end of the tunnel.
The next time you are going through your own tunnel experience think on these words from the wonderful old gospel song, “God Specializes.”
“Have you any mountains that you cannot tunnel through….God specializes in
Things that are impossible. And He will do what no other power, no other power can do.”
Related posts:
