Collin is my first grandchild.
Occasionally, his mother was out of sight, and I had time with Collin. One of the activities I enjoyed with Collin was taking him outside. When I had sole babysitting rights, I allowed him to wander around our property wherever he wanted. My job was to stay five or six feet behind him. Only when he was about to hurt himself would I step in. When I say “hurt himself,” I mean not allowing him to bleed much.
He liked to go out into the woods. Tracing the uneven ground, compost foliage, and fallen limbs was difficult. His direction was governed mainly by gravity; down was his preference. Since Jan and I live on the top of a hill, returning was always on my mind.
I don’t know how familiar you are with walking in the woods, but if you go downhill long enough, you will eventually come to a stream of water. On this exploration adventure, we ended up at the small stream across the road to the front. (Yes, I did insist on Collin looking both ways and my holding his hand to cross the road.)
It is necessary to tell you that it was mid-to-late fall. During the day, it was warm enough to wear a long-sleeved shirt. There was a breeze from the southwest.
I told Collin it was okay to throw sticks into the water but not get wet. I explained that if he got wet, he would get cold. I intended to avoid explaining why he was wet to his mother or grandmother. My words were, of course, not heeded. It wasn’t long before he was knee-deep in the water. Collin went with the flow downstream. Shortly, as you have no doubt anticipated, he stumbled and plopped down on his behind. I cringed. Collin was delighted.
He continued wandering in the creek, thoroughly enjoying his adventure.
“Let’s go back to the house before you get cold,” I would suggest. “I not cold!” he would say as he continued down the flow. So, I followed his lead and tried convincing him to head back to the house. At the same time, my mind was churning to come up with a decent explanation of why I let him cross the road and why I let him get wet. He had neither concern.
Suddenly, he turned to me and said, “I cold!” As he got out of the water, he wanted to go home. So, I took him by his wet, blue-tented hand, and we began to head back up the hill to the house. Gravity was now my problem. A few steps into our return, he began to tremble with cold and exhaustion. I took off my flannel shirt, wrapped him in it, and carried him as tightly to my body as I could.
Is this a picture of us?
Most of us, maybe all, will haplessly wander through our days, letting the gravity of our desires take us down what Jesus called the “broad and easy way.” The way that begins with the “wide gate” (Matthew 7). He assures us that such a road leads to “destruction.” Jesus’ picture is way more than a road ending in hell for eternity. It is about the destruction and distortion of the Image of God humans were created in. It’s about life requiring more effort to get a diminished allotment of pleasure. Thus, the title of this blog is “When your chosen route takes you where you didn’t want to go.”
The question becomes, “What do I do to escape this self-induced misery?”
We can blame our environment, petition our government, curse God, or a plethora of other actions, all of which burp from our refusal to do an honest self-analysis. It is not a “natural” reaction to ask God why we hurt and wait long enough to get His answer. He allows us to continue our disastrous lifestyle until we die or die to ourselves.
Here is a thought for you to consider: “All pain in life is God calling us to move closer to Him.” That’s what makes heaven so appealing. Not that there will be no pain, but there will be no distance between God and me, you. Heaven is not about the absence of suffering; it is about the presence of love, joy, and peace, i.e., Jesus.
Paul Billheimer wrote a book called “Don’t Waste Your Sorrows” in the mid-fifties, which was very helpful for my development. I got the book on the sale shelf at a bookstore in the early eighties. In a sentence, the book alerted me to consider all my pain as messages from God to lean into Him.
God is not interested in diminishing our suffering but in advancing His glory. Sometimes, pleasure accomplishes that. Sometimes, suffering. My calling is to clarify my life priorities and expectations to accommodate His purposes. It is not a very “fun” way to live, but it is out of sight, joyous, and peaceful.
So, when you are cold, wet, exhausted, and downhill from home, stop, ask, and listen. God is near and ready to deliver you back to the joy and peace-filled life you were created for.
Photo -That’s Collin more than a few years ago. My earlier pictures of him are digitized. I love this photo.
Baldwin Heirlooms 