This is the first in a series of reflections from Hind’s Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard.
Our story begins in the Valley of Humiliation, in which great flocks were pastured and nurtured for the Chief Shepherd by devoted workers; one of which is our protagonist, Much-Afraid.
When we first meet Much-Afraid, we discover early on why she bears the name she does. I think this is something most of us can identify with: Much-Afraid was very well aware of her personal defects and deficiencies. Two very personal hinderances contended for her demise. Both were seen outwardly by others, adding to the shame and distress she felt from them. One malady, her deformed feet, stifled her ability to work easily; the other was a contorted mouth, which impeded her speech.
I think if every one of us were to think about it, there’s at least one of each of these kinds of impediments in our experience. If it’s not a physical stumbling block like her crooked feet, it might be depleted energy levels, distorted emotional or mental wellbeing, or even elements of the personal life such as a demanding job or financial stresses that can be crippling.
Additionally, it’s probably more common than one would think for just about anyone to be able to pinpoint an example of the second type of ailment. Hers was with her mouth, which affected her speech. This could also be indicative of insecurities that stem from shyness or abuse; it could symbolize the worry that comes from caring too much about what other people think of you. It could describe the tendency to verbally hurt others out of our own hurt. Anything that works to keep us from speaking up, speaking into, or speaking well is pictured here in Much-Afraid’s distorted mouth.
She does have a third hindrance: her family is of the Fearings, which means her fear runs deep. Her relatives were prominent throughout the valley, so she couldn’t escape them. This makes me think of, yes, we might have some family that is holding us back, but in most cases, this is likely a picture of something broader: our past. Family represents everything about our upbringing, early relationships, and past experiences. These are things one cannot seem to escape.
Unless.
The key thing I know I can certainly relate to is her sincere desire to be delivered from these weaknesses, to be made…
“…beautiful, gracious, and strong as were many of the Shepherd’s other workers, and above all to be made like the Chief Shepherd himself.”
So much of the human nature is seen in this desire. To be lovely, like the angels, gracious and kind, and strong enough to weather powerful storms with a straight back and an upturned face – who doesn’t want to be that somewhere deep inside? But don’t miss the undercut of the desire: “as were many of the Shepherd’s other workers…” is a straight up comparison.
Why do we do this? Especially women; we are the worst about this. It starts in grade school, amplifies to a thunderous octave in our teen years, and takes entirely too long to dissipate – if ever – in adult life. It seems like every time we start a new chapter in life (parenting, working, aging, etc.) we’ve got to see what everyone else is doing around us, and measure up. It’s exhausting.
Sidebar: If you struggle with this, I’ve found that when I lift other ladies up verbally (and mean it) somehow it tends to break this tendency for me. I’m still guilty of it from time to time, not gonna lie, but this is a pattern I try to implement when I find myself comparing myself to others. Compliment her, and make her day. I think the reason it works so well is it’s simply taking the focus off of me and whatever it is I’m feeling insecure about. But if I build her up, paradoxically, I feel better about myself.
At any rate, physical stumbling blocks that inhibit action, and personal ailments that impede communication and ultimately relationships, are literally a part of the human existence.
So very much like Much-Afraid, we have an invitation to either accept and change course or deny and stay where we are.
After being tormented by her family (they hated that she was in service to the Chief Shepherd), she went out of her cottage to meet Him in the place where she was in the practice of meeting Him every morning and evening to go over her day.
She almost whimsically expresses a desire to escape her family forever by going up to the high places, where they could never reach her. To her astonishment, the Chief Shepherd tells her He’s waited a long time to hear her say that. He can take her and is very willing to do so. Her enemies, as He calls them, could never find her there, for the high places only safeguard those who are unblemished and have hind’s feet to get there. Her objection is likely familiar to us all: how could she, a cripple with a distorted mouth, manage to go all the way to the high places? And what would the inhabitants there say if nothing imperfect may live there?
She feels less-than. Unworthy. Incapable.
And the fact of the matter is sometimes we are. We are all fallen. Imperfect. Broken, even.
But there is Hope.
The Chief Shepherd’s response is so healing: “It is true that you would have to be changed before you could live on the High Places, but if you are willing to go with me, I promise to help you develop hind’s feet.”
He goes on to forewarn Much-Afraid: “…you would have to receive another name…are you willing to be changed completely?”
I feel like this is where many of us get stuck. We are so afraid of changing that we cling to the old self out of familiarity – not realizing what we are actually rejecting.
One more thing, He says. “No one is allowed to dwell in the Kingdom of Love, unless they have the flower of Love already blooming in their hearts. Has Love been planted in your heart, Much-Afraid?”
As she searches within herself to find the appropriate answer, she can see in His eyes that He peers straight into her heart uninhibited. Yet He waits for an answer. She confesses that she feels a desire to be loved and admired in the human way in her heart, but she cannot see in herself the kind of love she sees in Him.
So at her consent, He plants a seed of love into her heart – one shaped exactly like the scar on the palm of His hand.
To her, it was a feeling of pain mixed with exuberance…just exactly what I remember feeling when He came into my life: a deep sense of remorse mixed with a renewed vitality I had never before known.
“He looked very kindly at the little shepherdess who had just received the seed of love in her heart and was preparing to go with Him into the High Places, but also with full understanding. He knew her through and through, in all the intricate labyrinth of her lonely heart, better far than she knew herself. No one understood better than He, that growing into the likeness of a new name is a long process…”
This past November, I surpassed 30 years of walking with Him. I’m hoping I still have more time, as I am ready to be in the High Places, but Hurnard hit the nail on the head on this one: growing into the likeness of a new name is a very long process, indeed.
I’m willing if He is. Even if it does hurt a little.
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