I joined a few of my friends who were camping in Ohio this Labor Day weekend. One evening we hiked through thick woods and even thicker brush to get to the lake and watch the sunset. It was a gorgeous, late summer evening and we stayed until we could see the Milky Way against a deep black sky. Two of my buddies shot digital photos, capturing beautiful red hues that traced the tree lined lake silouette.
When we started back toward the trail, we quickly realized no one had brought a flashlight.
We're experienced hikers, having climbed Half Dome in Yosemite (just to drop a name...), so we weren't necessarily worried about getting lost. But dark is dark.
We went single file, slowly feeling our way along the now invisible path. Then a few branches smacked our lead hiker's face and he called back to us to watch out. There were also tree roots, rocks and dips to negotiate--just the kind that will twist an ankle or cause a fall. At one point I put my hand out and rested it on the shoulder of my 2nd-in-line buddy, just for a frame of reference.
We knew that if we could just ease along the path, despite the obstacles, it would eventually lead to a clearing, then to the road, and then to camp. I had that sequence in my mind, trying to recall how long each section was, and the lay of the land we had passed through on our way in. Ultimately, we knew the end game was there - get through dense overgrowth, hit the clearing, find the road and walk into camp. Safety and comfort were waiting, like a promise.
What do people do today when they don't have confidence in, or believe that an end game exists for their life? How scary it must be to repeatedly set out in the dark, not sure of how long the overgrowth will last, or if a clearing will turn up that leads to the road...and the comfort of an eternal outcome, back in camp, with a Creator.
Even if someone is calling out to them, telling them when to dodge branches, how can they be sure
if either of them is on the right path? What of the person directly in front of them, hand resting on their shoulder -- they're in the exact same situation of unknown...just a few feet further along in the dark.
Of course, you could ask the same of me at the lake that night. Wasn't I blindly following people who could lead me right off a cliff?
But it was different, and I'll tell you why.
I had confidence in my friends who were taking the lead - because
they had seen the path in the Light. We knew One, direct path was there - that much was established and True. We weren't so much anxious about the trail's outcome, but about staying True to its course, not accidently straying from the outline that was now crowded with confusing shapes and pitfalls.
We never considered inventing an alternate path of our own - that would be a sure recipe for diaster...and no experienced hiker would take that risk.
Next: Part II - Through the Glass Darkly
What do you believe?
