In the summer of 1995, at 18 years old, I went with a small team of eight from my church on a mission trip. After five flights, two days of travel, and a total of 21 hours in the air, we stepped off the plane and into the hot, humid, and tropical climate of Goroka, Papua New Guinea.
Our two main purposes in going were to build a dormitory at a Bible college and share the gospel with unreached natives. Our team leader emphasized how we’d be stretched and taken out of our comfort zone, but I wasn’t prepared for what lay ahead.
One afternoon, our team plus other missionaries and locals piled into three crew cab trucks and began the trek to a remote village quite a distance away. The dirt roads were full of potholes, and by potholes, I mean large craters in the ground. This meant, in addition to being crammed in like sardines, we were jerked and jostled around the entire way.
After driving for two hours, we came to a pathetic-looking “bridge” made of flimsy slabs of wood with a rushing river flowing beneath. As we started crossing, I closed my eyes, silently praying while clenching my teeth, holding my breath, and gripping the side door.
Miraculously, all three trucks made it to the other side, only to be staring up at a long, steep, and muddy incline with an embankment leading straight down to the river.
With the other two trucks ahead of us, I watched in disbelief as they each endured a struggle to make it to the top. After what felt like an eternity, it came our turn. At times, our tires spun helplessly with no traction to gain momentum. In other instances, our truck would progress up the impassable slope, and right when we thought we were going to make it to the top, we’d start sliding right back down the hillside. This continued happening, sometimes veering uncomfortably close to the drop-off with the turbulent waters below.
Tackling the hill only became possible after several men, including a native dressed in a skimpy loincloth, positioned themselves behind the vehicle and began pushing. Steadily, we moved forward and gained ground. In unison, we all breathed a heavy sigh of relief once we reached the top.
By the time we arrived at the village, it was pitch black outside, so dark you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. The generator was set up, and all the locals, from young children to the elderly, gathered to watch the Jesus Film, which had been translated into their official language, Pidgin. To witness every one of the tribe’s facial expressions and emotional reactions to hearing the gospel for the first time was truly one of the most memorable and unbelievable highlights of my life.
Although we endured a hair-raising uphill battle, one that appeared to have no end in sight, with added manpower, we persevered, pressed on, and pushed through the difficult expedition to a well-worth-it outcome.
That muddy hillside wasn’t just an obstacle—it became a living illustration of what so many of us experience in life. We all encounter uphill battles that leave us feeling powerless and unsure of what to do. Scripture records one such moment in the life of King Jehoshaphat.
In 2 Chronicles 20, King Jehoshaphat of Judah found himself facing an unprovoked war by three neighboring countries. Terrified by this news, he publicly cries out, begging the Lord for His needed guidance, “O our God, will you not execute judgment on them? For we are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” (2 Chronicles 20:12 ESV)
Then one of the men, Jahaziel, spoke these words, “Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed at this great horde, for the battle is not yours but God’s. Tomorrow go down against them … you will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position, and see the salvation of the LORD on your behalf.” (2 Chronicles 20:15b, 16a, 17a ESV)
God allowed His people to come face-to-face with a battle, which by all outward appearances looked beyond them. This revealed a foundational truth: The battle belonged to Him. They couldn’t escape or ignore their frightening reality; nonetheless, God provided His children with a strategy that would cause confusion amongst their enemies.
In 2 Chronicles 20:22 (ESV), it makes known, “And when they began to sing and praise, the Lord set an ambush against the men of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir, who had come against Judah, so that they were routed.” The Israelites won the battle that day, not with human intelligence, physical strength, or man-made swords, but with their stillness and praises to God! They were to fully trust and depend on God as their warrior, protector, and defender.
So, to be still in the presence of God means you aren’t to fret, worry, strive, take matters into your own hands, or seek to control results. Being still is an invitation to surrender everything to a trustworthy God because He’s never lost a single battle!
We all come up against one uphill battle or another. Two steps forward, then three steps back. Defeat and discouragement can be our closest companions. We can feel powerless to fix, change, overcome, stop, or move beyond troubling circumstances. God can appear absent, but the truth is He’s fully aware, attentive, and actively working behind the scenes.
Battles are unavoidable, but triumph occurs by positioning ourselves in a place of worship before God, with our eyes fixed on Him. Standing still isn’t inactivity; it’s a posture of hope, and it involves keeping your hope anchored on the person of Jesus, having a sure and confident expectation in Him. As you center your thoughts, beliefs, and emotions on the Lord, He’ll lead you concerning what you need to do, as He did with Jehoshaphat, who triumphed victoriously over his enemies.
“Who is this King of glory? The Lord, strong and mighty, the Lord, mighty in battle!” (Psalm 24:8 ESV)
{If you enjoyed this blog post, you might also like this episode of The Love Offering Podcast, where Rachael chats with Rachel Wojo about her devotional, Praying Through Life’s Battles. Rachel is an author, speaker, podcaster, and Bible teacher whose ministry encourages women to draw near to God through prayer, especially during life’s hardest seasons. Her message is not based on simple answers or shallow encouragement. It was forged through years of loving and caring for her daughter, Taylor, who lived with a rare metabolic disorder called mucopolysaccharidosis. Taylor passed away in 2019 at twenty-two years old. You can listen to the episode here.}
About the Author:
Andrea E. Woodward is an author, speaker, and Pastoral Counselor who specializes in supporting women navigating the impacts of domestic abuse, spiritual abuse, betrayal trauma, sexual brokenness, and relational wounds, helping them pursue healing, freedom, and wholeness through a Christ-centered approach. Born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, Andrea has a love for God’s Word, Thai food, spin classes, paddle boarding, weighted blankets, worship, laughter, authentic friendship, and deep, meaningful conversations. Her greatest blessing is her three daughters, whom she homeschooled from 2009–2026.
