(God’s Providential Supervision)
Some people are blessed with a great sense of direction. I, however, did not get such a blessing. My family jokes about it. I can never give directions, because you might end up in Mexico if you were heading to Canada. And don’t even bother to give me directions; they just become a muddled mess in my mind. I really require step-by-step navigation. We probably all have experienced a time when we got off at the wrong exit (or got on at the wrong entrance) and all the problems that incurred before we got back on the correct route. Much of life plays out that way. Our GPS tells us (sometimes many times) that at the next available place make a U-turn and head back on XYZ.
Robert Frost’s poetry has an ability to, as in many good poems, write about a fairly mundane happening, but implying something of greater meaning. One of my favorite poems is “The Road Not Taken”. For the person who is not familiar with this poem, it appears on the surface a mere statement that someone who is taking an autumn walk comes to a juncture that necessitates choosing which path to take. The closing line represents the effect of that choice; “And that has made all the difference.”
While I do not intend to write this as an explication of the poem, it does contain a mental image to help think of the paths which we choose and how we make choices that may seemingly be of little consequence, but in reality, have profound implications. Many verses in the Bible speak to being on a path and being lead. One of the most well-known is the beautiful Psalm 23 in which the shepherd is leading his sheep along a path, some of it pleasant, e.g. “beside still waters”, while some is less than pleasant, “through the valley of death”. In both sections, the Shepherd/Guide remains the one determining the route. Regardless, we are told that “I will fear no evil, for you are with me”.
As in Frost’s poem, there comes a point of choice, of decision, of choosing which path to take. Either you accept Christ as your Savior/Guide or you reject him. There is a definitive time when each individual must choose whether to go through “the gate”. You cannot straddle the fence. Matthew 7:13 and 14 warns us that while the wide gate may appear more inviting, the narrow gate is the one that leads to the destination of life. Not only is the narrow path more restrictive, it is also the less traveled one. Consider how a hiking path does not need to be broad since only a single person is walking along it at any one time.
Each person has a unique experience on the trail. Psalm 119:105 uses the metaphor of Scripture being a light to your feet. I’m sure you’ve experienced a time when it was dark, and you used a flashlight to light the path directly in front of your feet. The light does little good if it shines straight ahead; the light will dissipate into the darkness. However, using the light to see where your feet are going is to help prevent tripping over exposed tree roots, being caught by sharp stones sticking up, and slipping in boggy sections that would best be avoided.
The Appalachian Trail is a 2,200-mile trek from Georgia to Maine (or Maine to Georgia depending on which direction you attempt it). Breathtakingly beautiful in places (so I’ve been told), it can be a treacherous hike through wilderness at times. Unfortunately, it can deadly. One of the sad aspects is that several people have died because they became lost and disoriented on the Appalachian Trail. The reason? They stepped off the trail lost their direction and could not find their way back onto the trail. In our Christian walk we might experience something similar. We go off the main pathway (just a little) to get a closer look at something that we are interested in. The rationale may be “I’ll take a little look, -it can’t hurt-and I’ll get right back on the trail”. But, just like those people lost on the Appalachian Trail, some never make it back. One account tells of a lady who left the trail, became disoriented, and could not find her way back. She did survive for twenty-seven days, according to her journal, but died. Two years later when they found her body (don’t ask me how) she was less than two miles from the trail. The moral? Stay on the path. A “brief” departure from the path can create “long-standing” problems. Some of these departures may seem relatively harmless from our viewpoint. You may see someone going down a different section of the path and you feel God is blessing them so it must not be wrong, especially if you find that pathway looks to be desirable. But at the same time, you sense God is leading you somewhere different. Do we get off the trail or stay? God doesn’t forbid that route, so you decide to go that way, but you seem to flounder and slip while the other person seems to be going along well. When you confront God about this, his response may be something like this, “That’s not the path I selected for you, you chose it by yourself.”
Just remember that you don’t know what lies ahead on your path, since the light is shining on your feet. God doesn’t lead by flood-lights. Sometimes the going can be difficult and you tell God that you just don’t have the strength to go on, but he tells you that he will take your hand and help you through this. Your Guide reminds you that you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you (Phillipians 4:13). Then when you come to the top of the climb, the view is worth the effort. You look back and see the spot where you nearly slid off the path but he held you and kept you from falling. You also note that where there were sheer drop-offs there were also trees (some little more than saplings) and boulders that were placed to grab hold of if you needed steadying. Now you’ve come to a place to rest and the sun feels warm on tired legs and you want to stay. But he tells you it’s time to get up and start walking again, that there’s more path to travel.
When you first started your journey, you noticed that the other path was so much more accessible, while this one that your Guide was directing you to was narrower and even a little concealed especially as the other path seemed to grab your attention. Upon closer inspection, there seemed to be some sort of gate that appears to be locked, that had to be opened in order to continue. You turn to your Guide and ask “How do we get through that?” To this the Guide replies, “I have the only key.” (See John 10:7.)
As you start off on your journey you look back at the other, much broader road. You look at your path–dusty, stoney, and dark-colored underfoot. You look at the other path and it appears to be smooth and shiny and even glittery. You puzzle out loud what must that path be paved with. To this your Guide only responds, “Good intentions.”
You continue on this long journey and develop almost a rhythm when suddenly you encounter a steep rocky hill you need to climb. You sit down and complain, “I don’t even know where this path is going to go.” “You do know where this journey ends”, your Guide tells you,
“You just don’t what you will have to encounter before you reach the final step”. Remember, your Guide tells you, “I am the way, the truth, and the life”. (John 14:6)
And so you continue. Rough patches and exciting places, but mostly just walking on. But the rough patches don’t upset you as much as they did, you just trust your Guide to keep on leading you and helping you. Now the top is sight, even though the terrain may seem a bit drab. But finally you make it to the summit and you Guide turns to you and says, “Well done thou good and faithful servant”. (Matthew 25:21)
(God’s Providential Supervision)
Some people are blessed with a great sense of direction. I, however, did not get such a blessing. My family jokes about it. I can never give directions, because you might end up in Mexico if you were heading to Canada. And don’t even bother to give me directions; they just become a muddled mess in my mind. I really require step-by-step navigation. We probably all have experienced a time when we got off at the wrong exit (or got on at the wrong entrance) and all the problems that incurred before we got back on the correct route. Much of life plays out that way. Our GPS tells us (sometimes many times) that at the next available place make a U-turn and head back on XYZ.
Robert Frost’s poetry has an ability to, as in many good poems, write about a fairly mundane happening, but implying something of greater meaning. One of my favorite poems is “The Road Not Taken”. For the person who is not familiar with this poem, it appears on the surface a mere statement that someone who is taking an autumn walk comes to a juncture that necessitates choosing which path to take. The closing line represents the effect of that choice; “And that has made all the difference.”
While I do not intend to write this as an explication of the poem, it does contain a mental image to help think of the paths which we choose and how we make choices that may seemingly be of little consequence, but in reality, have profound implications. Many verses in the Bible speak to being on a path and being lead. One of the most well-known is the beautiful Psalm 23 in which the shepherd is leading his sheep along a path, some of it pleasant, e.g. “beside still waters”, while some is less than pleasant, “through the valley of death”. In both sections, the Shepherd/Guide remains the one determining the route. Regardless, we are told that “I will fear no evil, for you are with me”.
As in Frost’s poem, there comes a point of choice, of decision, of choosing which path to take. Either you accept Christ as your Savior/Guide or you reject him. There is a definitive time when each individual must choose whether to go through “the gate”. You cannot straddle the fence. Matthew 7:13 and 14 warns us that while the wide gate may appear more inviting, the narrow gate is the one that leads to the destination of life. Not only is the narrow path more restrictive, it is also the less traveled one. Consider how a hiking path does not need to be broad since only a single person is walking along it at any one time.
Each person has a unique experience on the trail. Psalm 119:105 uses the metaphor of Scripture being a light to your feet. I’m sure you’ve experienced a time when it was dark, and you used a flashlight to light the path directly in front of your feet. The light does little good if it shines straight ahead; the light will dissipate into the darkness. However, using the light to see where your feet are going is to help prevent tripping over exposed tree roots, being caught by sharp stones sticking up, and slipping in boggy sections that would best be avoided.
The Appalachian Trail is a 2,200-mile trek from Georgia to Maine (or Maine to Georgia depending on which direction you attempt it). Breathtakingly beautiful in places (so I’ve been told), it can be a treacherous hike through wilderness at times. Unfortunately, it can deadly. One of the sad aspects is that several people have died because they became lost and disoriented on the Appalachian Trail. The reason? They stepped off the trail lost their direction and could not find their way back onto the trail. In our Christian walk we might experience something similar. We go off the main pathway (just a little) to get a closer look at something that we are interested in. The rationale may be “I’ll take a little look, -it can’t hurt-and I’ll get right back on the trail”. But, just like those people lost on the Appalachian Trail, some never make it back. One account tells of a lady who left the trail, became disoriented, and could not find her way back. She did survive for twenty-seven days, according to her journal, but died. Two years later when they found her body (don’t ask me how) she was less than two miles from the trail. The moral? Stay on the path. A “brief” departure from the path can create “long-standing” problems. Some of these departures may seem relatively harmless from our viewpoint. You may see someone going down a different section of the path and you feel God is blessing them so it must not be wrong, especially if you find that pathway looks to be desirable. But at the same time, you sense God is leading you somewhere different. Do we get off the trail or stay? God doesn’t forbid that route, so you decide to go that way, but you seem to flounder and slip while the other person seems to be going along well. When you confront God about this, his response may be something like this, “That’s not the path I selected for you, you chose it by yourself.”
Just remember that you don’t know what lies ahead on your path, since the light is shining on your feet. God doesn’t lead by flood-lights. Sometimes the going can be difficult and you tell God that you just don’t have the strength to go on, but he tells you that he will take your hand and help you through this. Your Guide reminds you that you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you (Phillipians 4:13). Then when you come to the top of the climb, the view is worth the effort. You look back and see the spot where you nearly slid off the path but he held you and kept you from falling. You also note that where there were sheer drop-offs there were also trees (some little more than saplings) and boulders that were placed to grab hold of if you needed steadying. Now you’ve come to a place to rest and the sun feels warm on tired legs and you want to stay. But he tells you it’s time to get up and start walking again, that there’s more path to travel.
When you first started your journey, you noticed that the other path was so much more accessible, while this one that your Guide was directing you to was narrower and even a little concealed especially as the other path seemed to grab your attention. Upon closer inspection, there seemed to be some sort of gate that appears to be locked, that had to be opened in order to continue. You turn to your Guide and ask “How do we get through that?” To this the Guide replies, “I have the only key.” (See John 10:7.)
As you start off on your journey you look back at the other, much broader road. You look at your path–dusty, stoney, and dark-colored underfoot. You look at the other path and it appears to be smooth and shiny and even glittery. You puzzle out loud what must that path be paved with. To this your Guide only responds, “Good intentions.”
You continue on this long journey and develop almost a rhythm when suddenly you encounter a steep rocky hill you need to climb. You sit down and complain, “I don’t even know where this path is going to go.” “You do know where this journey ends”, your Guide tells you,
“You just don’t what you will have to encounter before you reach the final step”. Remember, your Guide tells you, “I am the way, the truth, and the life”. (John 14:6)
And so you continue. Rough patches and exciting places, but mostly just walking on. But the rough patches don’t upset you as much as they did, you just trust your Guide to keep on leading you and helping you. Now the top is sight, even though the terrain may seem a bit drab. But finally you make it to the summit and you Guide turns to you and says, “Well done thou good and faithful servant”. (Matthew 25:21)
Lamp for my feet 