Kaycia Walker

Some of you may know that I host a program on an online radio platform every Sunday at 7:30 p.m. EST, where I share principles and insights derived from Scripture. This past Sunday, my topic was “The Pilgrim’s Progress: The Way Up Is First Down,” and today I want to share some of what I discussed on the show that I believe may be of value to you.
My preparation for this topic actually started months ago, when a very close friend of mine invited me to watch the animated movie The Pilgrim’s Progress after she watched it and was blessed by it.

I agreed to watch it and fully intended to, but if I am going to be honest, I kept delaying it.

Why?

I am not a “TV person.” I love, love, LOVE music and am almost always listening to something, so I find it much easier to listen to something than to sit down and watch a movie. I am the kind of woman who has an active Audible subscription, and if you ever find me with a Kindle subscription, I can almost guarantee you that the book isn’t on Audible, or I needed it for something important.

You get the picture, right? I love to read; it just needs to be the audio version. I find it much more convenient to listen to a book while driving, doing chores around the house, or moving through my day than to sit still and read a physical book.

Anyway, back to my story.

After months of putting it off, I finally watched the film about a week ago; and boy, did it bless me.

What struck me most was that Christian’s (the main character in the film) journey was not simply about getting him from one place to another, the journey itself was changing him.

And I began to think about how often we approach our own walk with God the same way. We become so focused on where we are going, what we are waiting for, that we sometimes fail to recognize what He is doing in us while we are on our way there. We fail to recognize that the journey is not only about where we are going, but who we are becoming on our way there.

The Story

The narrative is set in a town called Noit Curtsed, which translates to City of Destruction. As you can imagine, with a name like that, destruction characterized the lives of the people who lived there.
They endured unceasing hard labor. Lack was prevalent. Dissatisfaction was high. Many felt hopeless. They were ruled by a dictator and, as a result, felt so incapacitated by their circumstances that they made no effort to leave.

Not only that, but the fear of the unknown gripped them, so they willingly remained in a state of despair simply because it was familiar.

Until…

One day, news spread that one of the men in the community had escaped.

An alarm was raised, and the overseer, his second-in-command, and several of their subservients, including the main character, Christian; went to investigate.

What they found made the man appear to be a lunatic.

There were drawings all over his walls depicting streets of gold, an enormous golden gate with perpetual light radiating through it, clear blue bodies of refreshing water, beautiful plants and flowers, and fruit trees overflowing with abundance.

Needless to say, it looked like heaven. It was heaven.

Christian, fascinated by what he saw, began, upon command, to remove the escapee’s belongings. But there was one thing he kept: a book he found in the man’s dwelling.

Days later, he could not stop reading it.

The book told the story of an amazing King, filled with abundant love, who wanted to share all that He had with those who were willing to leave the place of uncertainty and comfort and pursue Him.

Christian, feeling the weight of what he was reading, became compelled to leave the City of Destruction.

He nobly and honorably tried to convince his wife to go with him, but she forced him to choose between her and the call he had been feeling to go see the King.

Heartbroken, Christian left.

Along the way, he was rescued many times by agents sent on assignment by the King to provide guidance and support until he reached the new country where the King dwells: the Celestial City.

He faced heartbreak and disappointment, made numerous mistakes on his journey; but he also experienced unconditional love, patience, joy, brotherhood, and forgiveness.

And as I thought about his journey, I found several principles that stood out to me:

The Call Is Rarely, If Ever, Convenient

The sense of urgency we feel to leave a place of comfort and familiarity to serve a greater purpose, and more importantly, to come into alignment with the will and requirements of the King; never usually comes at a time when we are “available.”
Something is almost always going on.

And often, that “something” is deemed important by our own standards.

Weren’t Peter, Andrew, James, and John going about their ordinary work of fishing when Jesus instructed them to leave their nets and follow Him? (Matthew 4:18-22)

Weren’t Mary and Joseph preparing for their marriage when Mary was asked to lend her womb to carry the Savior of the world? (Luke 1:26-38)

Wasn’t Elisha busy plowing the field when Elijah placed his mantle upon him and called him to leave what he knew? (1 Kings 19:19-21)

Wasn’t Jesus Christ in the splendor of heaven when the need arose for someone to die for the sins of men and redeem Adam’s fallen race?

Get the point?

If we wait until everything is settled, until we have enough time, enough money, enough support, enough certainty, or until life is perfectly arranged, we may never move.

Sometimes the thing God is calling us toward requires us to leave the very thing we have convinced ourselves we cannot live without.

The Call Comes With Weight

The moment Christian began to read, the pull to leave the familiar became greater each day.
The heartbreak of leaving the people he loved behind added to the weight.

The many mistakes he made, and the condemnation he faced from the adversary, who continually taunted him about those mistakes; added even more weight.

And if that was not enough, he had an adversary, Apollyon, and his subservient, the Master, who worked tirelessly to veer him off course and ultimately destroy him.

There were many times along the journey when Christian became exhausted; mentally, emotionally, and physically.

He could have chosen to remain in the place of familiarity: the City of Destruction.

But here is the thing:

Just because something is familiar does not mean it is safe.

We often confuse familiarity with safety.

Christian knew how to live in the City of Destruction. He knew what to expect, and how things worked. It was all he had ever known.

But surviving somewhere does not mean you are where you are supposed to be.

Sometimes we remain in places, mindsets, habits, and patterns simply because we know how to function there. The unknown can be intimidating, even when the familiar is slowly destroying us.

Following the King required Christian to step away from what he knew and trust what he could not yet see.

And isn’t that often where faith begins?

You Will Die Many Deaths

Christian had to die to his personal desires and ambitions.
He had to die to fear.

Doubt.

Pride.

Legalism.

However, each time one of those deterrents to his growth died, something inside of him grew.

Every time he said no to something that contradicted what the King wanted him to do or become, he was making an investment in the development of his character.

And by extension, he was forging a deeper bond with the King; even before he ever arrived at the city.

We will experience many deaths on our journey.

But the parts that die are often the very things that were preventing our growth.

Farmers understand this principle. A seed must first be buried before it can produce something beyond itself. What appears to be an ending is often the beginning of another kind of life.

Athletes understand it too. They have to surrender comfort in order to develop discipline. The early mornings, the late nights, the food they choose not to eat, the social activities they sacrifice, and the training they continue when they don’t feel like it all contribute to who they eventually become.

It is a principle we see throughout life: sometimes we have to endure what is difficult in the present to become capable of carrying what God has prepared for the future.

And this is where I think we sometimes misunderstand the process.

We want God to change our circumstances, while He may be using those circumstances to change us. We want the destination, but God is also concerned about the person who arrives there.

The process matters because who you become on the journey determines what you are able to carry when you arrive.

The Journey Is Changing Us

All of this may seem like a lot to endure just to get to the city.
But perhaps the journey was never simply about getting to the city.

Perhaps it was also about who Christian had to become before he could enter it.

The person he became after successfully enduring the process was fortified. He was sure of himself. He had an unshakable character and a deep love for the King and for others.

The journey changed him.

And that may be one of the things we miss when we are frustrated with our own journeys.

We are so focused on getting somewhere that we fail to recognize what is happening in us along the way.

The waiting may be developing something in you that could be developed otherwise.

Maybe disappointment may be revealing something you need to surrender.

Perhaps uncertainty may be teaching you to trust God beyond what you can see.

The sacrifice may be strengthening a part of your character that comfort never could.

The difficult season may not be evidence that you have been forgotten. On the contrary, it may be part of the process that is preparing you for what you have been praying for.

That does not mean every painful thing that happens to us was sent by God, nor does it mean we should romanticize suffering. But it does mean that God can use even the difficult portions of our journey to form us.

Final Thoughts

So, wherever you are on your journey, do not despise the process.

You may not understand everything that is happening right now. You may not even like where you are.

But perhaps the better question is not simply, “When will I get out of this?”

Perhaps there is another question worth asking:

“Who is God making me while I am here?”

That question changes the way we look at the journey.

Before you can wear the crown of jewels, you must first endure the crown of thorns.

So keep your eyes on the King.

Keep moving toward Him.

And trust that the journey is doing something in you that the destination alone never could.

Because when you finally arrive, you may discover that the greatest evidence of the King’s work was not simply that He brought you to the city.

It was that somewhere along the way, He made you ready to live there.