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By Richard Gazowsky

This past week, I slipped into a theater with my kids, and watched the Hannah Montana movie. This was a genuinely juvenile experience for me. I almost couldn’t bear watching Hannah and her brother chasing a bunch of aristocrats around the table with a ferret, which the grown-ups thought was a rat. The scene was so absurd that I couldn’t even laugh, but the nine & ten year-olds in the crowd were in hysterics. I sat there, completely uncomfortable, and wondered, “Why am I here”? Then to my amazement, the whole scene in the theater turned around, as Hannah Montana sang the song “The Climb”. The lyrics are: There’s always going to be another mountain I’m always going to want to make it move… Ain’t about how fast I get there, ain’t about what’s waiting on the other side It’s the climb Her words cut through all of the nonsense going on in my brain over the contracts to get funding for our projects.

There is no doubt about it; we will achieve the goal that God has set before us, but that’s not what’s really going on. This kind of thinking is based on objective purposes, rather than relational purposes. At first, what I’m saying may sound a little crazy, but hang on, somewhere in this whirlwind, something’s going to make sense, and you might understand why God is treating you the way that He is.

Those that have been educated at western colleges are trained to have relationships that are based on objectives: “I’m in business with you, so you’re my friend.” But in most third world countries, relationships are contextual, and there is no need for a contract, only friendship and trust. When I went to Germany to present the need for two hundred million dollars to do a movie, I handed them about 50 pages of contract information, financials, and support items. They said “Thank you, but we will need much more.” When I met with investors in Asia, I handed them a 2 page contract, and they said, “What is this for? We don’t need this. Your friendship and trust is enough.” And Asia was in for much more than two hundred million.

Lately, this has led to another startling revelation. As I have progressively met more wealthy and influential people, I have discovered that very few of their relationships are based on an objective and contractual basis–but instead, it is good old fashioned friendship and trust. In Germany, I never met anyone outside the base of their bank office. In Asia, we visited their homes, played with their kids, and shopped in their malls. What fun!

I began to realize that actually, it was this same transition from the “objective” view to the “relationship” view that God was trying to make in my own life. For years, I had said to the Lord, “Tell me what to do, I’ll do it, and enjoy the rewards of success.” But recently, the Lord has given me tasks to do, places to go, that have not had any immediate objective or reward that I could relish in.

In March, a teenager in my church, Matthew Lanza, prophesied to me; “The Lord wants you to go snowboarding.” Now, you’ve got to understand something. I am a San Franciscan city slicker. I am not an athlete. I have never gone skiing or snowboarding, and any thought of doing so was as far from me as the Earth is from Pleiades. But just a month ago, our youth planned a snowboarding trip and I was invited to go. I just laughed when they invited me. But the next morning I a dreamed of a snowboard passing by me. The next day was my 35th wedding anniversary and I knew that I was going to have to face the snowboarding issue. So, as my wife Sandy and I sat in romantic solitude at the Cheesecake Factory, I asked the Lord (by the casting of a lot) if I should go snowboarding. As you can imagine, the lot came up “yes”.

The following Saturday, I found myself at the Boreal Ski Resort near Truckee, CA, holding a snowboard in my hands and the most incredible boots I have ever worn. The instructor ran through the balancing instructions and then told me to snap on one boot. Reaching over to snap the boot it stretched me to the limit of my big tummy, but I was just able to reach the foot clamps. I was already sweating because I knew nothing enjoyable lay before me. When I stood up on the board, I fell flat on my face, and my wife was nearby to snap a picture. Thanks, babe! I made three tries to scoot along on flat snow. To my amazement, after the fifth fall I stood up and glided for 10 feet. The teacher, who was already anxious, said, “Fine! You know what you’re doing. Let’s go to the mountain.” I, like a sheep led to the slaughter, followed the teacher to the ski lift while dragging this huge board that was clamped to one of my feet. I was lifted to the heights of the mountain and then deposited on the top where I slipped, fell, and slid across the ice.

They were forced to shut down the entire ski lift as I helplessly crawled to seek a safe place. I then looked for my teacher. He was about 30 feet away with the other students, helping each to strap his or her second foot to the board. I struggled to get to the place where the other students were and finally collapsed, digging my feet in so that I would not slide down the mountain. It was at this point I realized I was going to have to strap my right foot to the board and then, completely nailed, be expected to stand up and slide down the mountain on this slippery thing welded to my feet. When I looked for my teacher, I caught a glimpse of him snowboarding down the mountain. I was alone.

I lay back in the snow and said, “God, I can’t even stand up on this board, let alone go anywhere. I need some help!” Suddenly, an angel appeared. His long hair was flowing in the wind as he reached down and grabbed my hand. The angel’s name was Sunny Gazowsky, my son, and his hair is long and flowing. He said, “Dad, I’m here to help you.” And boy, did I need help! For the next hour, I fell, skidded, careened and flipped down the mountain. For the entire distance, my son was there holding my hand- helping me, laughing with me, crying at times and then just waiting for me to catch my breath. I think it was the most amazing time I have ever spent with my son. In that hour, we bonded like two buddies just home from Iraq. For the last 30 feet he let me snowboard on my own, with no help, and I felt like a kid riding his bike for the first time without training wheels, this time a son clapping for his dad. Wow. I never expected that! The roles between me and my son were reversed; he was the dad and I was the boy. In this magical moment, I suddenly realized the purpose of God, and it was not what I expected. God was not teaching me how to snowboard, he was teaching me how to be loved by my son. Once again, the Hannah Montana song rings in my mind: It’s about the climb! Every one of us is trying to get somewhere, and many times you and I have been guilty of damaging relationships in the process. I’m now discovering that these relationships are the reason for the journey. It’s the climb.

Richard Gazowsky pastors a church in San Francisco called The Voice of Pentecost, and is also president of Christian WYSIWYG Filmworks. He has directed the films, “Guardians” and “The Roman Trilogy.”