:: In.a.Mirror.Dimly ::

During our honeymoon I was terrified of being attacked by bears. Well, just for part of it at least. And really, the bears weren’t really after me, just the food in my backpack. The biggest problem with the bears was my silence.

I never told Julie, “I’m afraid of bears mauling me.”

We had a week at a lake house in the Adirondacks for our honeymoon, but for one night Julie wanted to go backpacking around Mount Marcy, the highest peak in New York state—yes, there is more to New York than that city. I packed my bag, but remained uneasy. I was new to this concept of hauling forty pounds around in the woods.

Julie knew I was a rookie, and she worked really hard to make it an enjoyable experience. However, she didn’t realize my nervous silence was the result of visions of bears running me down and pouncing on me. She planned out all kinds of fun food to bring along and tried to encourage me with the promise of a nice hot breakfast.

She even told me “funny” stories about the time that a bear found their food bag up in a tree and tore into the tin cans, leaving them a tangled mess on the ground. That made me feel even better…

The more she talked about the great food we were bringing, the more I thought of bears leaping onto me from behind trees.

Thankfully, my wife wasn’t naïve about the wiles of bears. She brought rope along so that we could hang our bag over a stream along with the other campers who thought it was hilarious to play this game of hide and seek with large, powerful creatures that could tear a person apart with their claws and vicious teeth.

Our food bag remained safe over the stream. We were unharmed in our tent. Our day hike the next day passed with many mentions of bears by amused hikers but no sightings. My wife was prepared, and we were safe.

After that trip, I finally voiced my fears of the bears, and Julie finally understood why I’d been acting so strange. She’d taken all the proper precautions for the bears. Generally speaking, we’d have only been in trouble if we separated a mother from her cub or if we used our food bags as pillows.

My fear did nothing to help us. My wife’s preparation had everything to do with the safety of our camping trip.

Christian Survival

A friend once asked, “Who is the spiritual leader for Christians today?” I didn’t really know for sure, but he suggested Eugene Peterson, the long-time pastor and translator of THE MESSAGE.  Peterson had spent a lot of time meditating on scripture and putting it into practice throughout his lifetime of ministry.

The spiritual statue of a Christian such as Peterson is not an accident. Peterson has invested untold hours in spiritual preparation.

I had a revelation a little while ago when I felt frustrated and spiritually stuck. I wanted to know why I wasn’t progressing in my Christian walk, just hardly getting by. The answer? I wasn’t preparing myself to thrive, let alone survive.

Survival is not an accident. We don’t rise to spiritual maturity by mistake. We don’t stay on the path of discipleship by just hanging on. Survival as a Christian requires preparation.

Tomorrow’s Post: Christian Survival: Do we know what’s at stake?