“If you love me, obey my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, who will never leave you.” (John 14:15-16, NLT)
As dean of discipleship at our school, I had the privilege of taking our seniors on a mission trip to Puerto Rico. The trip was amazing—but not easy. On the very first day, the mountain pump broke, and our base camp was left without running water. No showers. No flushing toilets. We had to carry buckets of water from a broken-down pool just to make the toilets work. It was uncomfortable and unexpected. And yet—our students remained joyful. They didn’t grumble. They adapted, laughed, and leaned in.
We made do by going to the nearby river for washing and refreshment—a river literally translated “The Holy Spirit River.” That river became more than a solution; it became a symbol. It brought life, rejuvenation, and a deeper sense of unity. One of our chaperones eventually rigged a backup system from the cistern, restoring water two days later. But by then, something more important had already been restored: a deeper dependence on God and each other.
Discomfort revealed something we don’t talk about enough: that suffering is often the missing nutrient in our discipleship.
“Suffering is often the missing nutrient in our discipleship.”
We’ve built lives of comfort and convenience. Church strategies often try to remove friction. But Jesus didn’t lead his disciples around the mountain—he led them up it. In Matthew 17 (cf. Mark 9, Luke 9), Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a high mountain. The thing about climbing mountains is that they are not easy. I imagine as the disciples climbed the steep mountainside their muscles began to ache, their lungs burned, and the question dominated their minds: Where is Jesus taking us? Maybe they hoped for a waterfall, some shade, a break. Instead, they found…nothing?
Until suddenly—Jesus shines in all His glory. The Transfiguration. They see Him for who He truly is. Power. Majesty. Holiness. What if they had quit halfway up the mountain? What would they have missed?
This is the heart of discipleship. Not a program. Not a classroom. A climb. A cross.
When we’re stretched and uncomfortable, we are given opportunities to know the Holy Spirit not just as a doctrine, but as our Comforter. He is most known in discomfort. That’s why, in seasons of suffering, God often feels so close. Because the Advocate comes near. That’s why the joy on our students’ faces in Puerto Rico was so real—it was supernatural.
“When we’re stretched and uncomfortable, we are given opportunities to know the Holy Spirit not just as a doctrine, but as our Comforter.”
We are created to live supernaturally, not comfortably. But when we sanitize discipleship and pad it with comfort, we rob people of the chance to truly see Jesus. If the Spirit produces fruit in our lives, could it be that we’ve removed the nutrient-rich soil of suffering? Have we bubble-wrapped our faith so tightly that the power of the resurrection is more of a concept than a reality?
And then Jesus could have stayed on the mountain. The disciples wanted to. But He led them back down—into the ordinary. Into the valley. To a demon-possessed boy and a waiting crowd. But they weren’t the same disciples who started up the mountain; the climb and what they saw had changed them.
When it comes to navigating life after these transformative experiences, I find it helpful to tell my students:
- God loved us just as much before the mountain as after. The difference is that usually, on the mountain, we’re finally listening.
- The God of the mountaintop is the same in the valley. He might feel more distant, but He hasn’t moved.
- What was true in the light remains true in the darkness. When we’re back in the ordinary, we can still live in the power of what we saw in the extraordinary.
“What was true in the light remains true in the darkness.”
I want to encourage you to “climb mountains” with the people you are discipling. We must stop trying to disciple people through padded hallways and air-conditioned comforts alone. If Jesus led his disciples to the cross, who are we to lead them only to couches?
Ministry done with the Holy Spirit will always be better than anything we can program. What He can do in a few uncomfortable days cannot be replicated by months of safe teaching. Discomfort has always been a sacred classroom. And if we want resurrection power, then there’s one path there—the cross.
Let’s stop skipping the climb. Let’s lead others up the mountain. And let’s not be afraid of a little discomfort. It may be the very place where we finally see Jesus for who He truly is.
