I was way off in saying hopefully I would be able to post every other day. Becky and I have been on the road seeing Banff, Lake Louise, Columbia Ice fields and more, camping as we go. No chance of reception in any of those areas. From here until we are home erratic will be the schedule.
From previous post, Max Lucado wrote: He has the right vision: he has seen the homeland. He has the right directions. But most of all, he is the right person, for he is God. Who knows the jungle better than the one who made it? And who knows the pitfalls of the path better than the one who has walked it?
The story is told of a man on an African safari deep in the jungle. The guide before him had a machete and was whacking away the tall weeds and thick underbrush. The traveler, wearied and hot, asked in frustration, “Where are we? Do you know where you are taking me? Where is the path?!” The seasoned guide stopped, looked back at the man and replied, “I am the path.”
We ask the same questions, don’t we? We ask God, “Where are you taking me? Where is the path? And he, like the guide, doesn’t tell us. Oh, he may give us a hint or two, but that’s all. If he did, would we understand? Would we comprehend our location? No, like the traveler, we are unacquainted with the jungle. So rather than give us an answer, Jesus gives us a far greater gift. He gives us himself.
Does he remove the jungle? No, the vegetation is still thick.
Does he purge the predators? No the danger still lurks.
Jesus doesn’t give hope by changing the jungle; he restores our hope by giving us himself. And he has promised to stay until the very end. “I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:20 NIV).
We need that reminder. We all need that reminder. For all of us need hope.
Some of you don’t need it right now. Your jungle has become a meadow and your journey a delight. If such is the case, then congratulations. But remember—we do not know what tomorrow holds. we do not know where this road will lead. You may be one turn from a cemetery, from a hospital bed, from an empty house. You may be a bend in the road from a jungle. And though you don’t need your hope restored today, you may tomorrow. And you need to know to whom to turn.
Or perhaps you do need hope today. You know you were not made for this place. You know you were not equipped. You want someone to lead you out. If so, call out for your Shepherd. He knows your voice. And he’s just waiting for your request. ~Max Lucado, Traveling Light (Nashville, Tennessee: Thomas Nelson 1987, 9188, 1991). 58-59 (For the first post of this series, see He Restores My Soul.)
