When We End Up in the Ditch (or other unfortunate places)

We were in Winnipeg last night at a gathering of friends – some friends from our current life and some from a previous life. There was lots of catching up, lots of laughs, lots of good food. It was a good time.

During the course of the conversation, a story was told of farm hand who had tipped his loaded harvest-hauling truck into a deep ditch. The worker had managed to crawl out of the truck unharmed and walked back to the farm, but didn't tell anyone about his mishap until the end of the day.

Another person commented that that probably wasn't a mistake that worker was liable to make twice. And then he went on to tell another similar story, but in this one, the worker who had dumped the truck had asked his boss if he was going to fire him.

“Fire you? Are you kidding? I just spent $30 000 on your education! Do you think I'm going to fire you now and let someone else benefit from that education? Not a chance!”

That sounds to me like the grace of God.

We (the royal “we”, meaning I) mess up royally and God chalks it up to education, not an opportunity to cut us off from his love. That is wild, humbling grace. Not only that, we don't even have to show up in front of the boss by our dirty, messy selves. We have an advocate who will speak on our behalf.

We might even become better drivers of our lives with grace-filled second chances like this.  And hopefully more gracious to our fellow truck-drivers when they end up in awkward circumstances.

And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations,

knowing that tribulation produces perseverance;

and perseverance, character; and character, hope.

Now hope does not disappoint,

because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts

by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.

Romans 5:3 – 5 (NKJV)

But if anyone does sin,

we have an advocate with the Father – Jesus Christ, the Righteous One.

1 John 2:2 (NIV)

other unfortunate places

Feeding the Soul

I went for a little hike on Sunday. By myself. No one else wanted to come along.

The pleasant days of autumn are numbered and I haven't been taking advantage of them as I would like, but Sunday was the day to get outside. I wanted to go hiking in the hills. Where we live is completely flat and no matter which way I walk down the road, I am always in sight of the neighbours. While we have fine neighbours, when I go walking I like to feel like I'm the only person in the world.

So, I set out to find a small road in the hills that I could walk along and feel like I was alone. There's a little lake not far from where we live, maybe 3 miles away, that I figured would be a suitable destination. The only problem is I can only find that lake when I'm not looking for it. I cannot for the life of me choose the right road to take to get there. I always go too far down one road because the turn-off to get to the lake happens sooner (I think) than I think it ought to which leads me to another fork in the road where I inevitably choose the left, doubt myself, turn around and go back and choose the right, which still turns out to be the wrong choice because I'm on the wrong road anyway.

Needless to say, I didn't make it to the lake. However, as I was driving down the wrong road, I came across what appeared to be an interesting field road. I parked my vehicle, grabbed my camera and started walking.

It was perfect. It was a windy, twisty road that went up hills and down valleys, around corners and through muskegs. There was not a house in sight. The air was filled with the fragrances of autumn: distant smoke from stubble fires, fallen brown oak leaves, cool moist air of a pond, the pungent scent of rotting berries and the last vestiges of prairie grasses. I could only hear my footsteps and the occasional gurgling of water.

It was a walk that fed my soul.

Recently, it has seemed that I have as hard a time “finding time” to feed my soul as I do finding Jackson's Lake. Of course, they say that you always find time for the things that are important to you.

Perhaps I need to set aside my expectations that I'll make it to the lake, or to that silent retreat weekend, or whatever, and instead keep my eyes open for the interesting side roads that pop up along the way, for smaller, less glamorous but more frequent, ways to feel my soul. Because really, there are not many more important things than that.

What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world

yet forfeit their soul?

Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?

Matthew 16:26