Karl is the leader of a men's group at Alpine Chapel
I first realized that God can ask some pretty dangerous actions from me when I was hunting last year. After the first day’s hunt I left a pack with all the necessary items to pack an animal out where we were to hunt the next day, lightening my load so I could get in quickly and quietly in the morning. That evening the weather changed and snow started to fall. Our plans for the next day’s hunt had to adapt for the weather and I needed to retrieve the pack. It was about an hours hike away and the light was going fast. I moved quickly to the pack and was there as the light disappeared altogether. I retrieved the pack and put on a headlamp so I could make my way back to camp. As I made my way back the snow was coming down so hard that with the headlamp the light was reflected back in my eyes and did little to light my path. I was counseled to turn off the light.
A week before I was given a new name, Uriah. Uriah? I remembered the story of the loyal soldier of David’s, who was killed, after David impregnated his wife. Not the name I had hoped. I actually would have loved the name Joseph. Since I did not want to relate to a loyal soldier who was murdered by the man who took his wife, I had to find out what Uriah meant. The Lord is my light. Now, that I can relate to, or at least I thought so.
Turning off the light at first seemed like foolishness. The path was narrow, uneven, and muddy, included a river crossing and eventually divided a couple of times. There was little chance I could make it all the way back without light. Uriah. My counsel was more than my own wisdom. My counselor reminded me of my new name. OK, so I will give it a shot. Off goes the lamp and the path is clearer. I made it past the stream crossing without getting wet and was making my way back to camp with little difficulty. What’s more I was hardly affected by the snow and darkness. I felt no fear about my situation, which was again because of my counselor, my Lord, my light.
The entire walk back was actually spent in conversation. God was telling me about teaching me trust. I was reminded of lessons in the past. I was also made aware of the relationship of trust to patience and how each lesson increased both. The entire walk was an intimate conversation with God. That was until fear encroached upon our conversation.
The fear first was from shadows that made me believe there were limbs that I had to step over. I looked down and then when I looked back up I was disoriented, it seemed considerably darker. I could not discern the path from the surrounding area. I had to stop. That was when the complete recklessness of the errand hit me, going out in the dark, while it was snowing, just to retrieve a pack. I was frozen in fear. I turned the headlamp back on.
The path was not much clearer, since the snow had not slowed and now coated everything around me with about two inches. There was no contrast that gave me any hint of the trail. I was certain I was below the trail. I started to go diagonal away from the river I was following to locate the trail. Then I was certain I was too high. So, I went diagonal back towards the river. By this time I doubted that I could see the lights of the camp from any closer than 100 yards. I could have passed the camp without seeing it.
I missed the trust I had before I turned the headlamp back on. There was none of this confusion and worry and disorientation. I turned the headlamp off again and stood still and waited. The light levels did not change. I waited for my eyes to adjust, but there was not any ambient light to highlight my path. I stood in the darkness as long as I could tolerate it and turned the headlight back on. I knew that I failed. It was a lesson, and the wisdom I would gain from it was good, but disoriented and essentially blind I could only grasp the failure.
I took a risk and dropped close to the river then walked parallel to the river as far away from the river as I could while knowing I was still parallel to it. I guessed I had not passed the camp and if I had I would soon run into a steep area around the river that if I went uphill would lead to a road which I could follow back to camp. So, I was a little better oriented with this plan, but still shy of the clear path I was on.
After a while, longer than I expected, I saw the lights of the camp, one hundred yards diagonally uphill from me. I went straight uphill and found the trail and in moments I was in a warm, well lit place.
The next day there was about eight inches of new snow and it was still falling. While ascending a ridge God met up with me. I had left behind the failure of the evening before and moved on to the lessons from it. God apparently wanted me to move on as well and was telling me about patience. Patience, as I found out, is sometimes learned by doing something distasteful until it is palatable. In this case God asked me to stand still in the snow and listen. I stood, and stood, and waited. Nothing and more nothing rewarded my waiting. I eventually realized I was standing still in the snow, with no noticeable discomfort, and no urgency to move on. Eventually I was released to move on. The sound of movement was uncomfortable. I decided to wait and eat something, but just opening some peanut butter crackers was painfully loud.
Now, six months later, I am presented with a situation where I am wondering does God ask me to do anything reckless, dangerous, without it seeming to directly advance His agenda. I am about to fail again. My failure will yet again stem from fear. And I will again come away with a new perspective and trust for God. I just parked an ATV at the top of a steep, snowy, power line trail, carried our two month old son down to my wife, anticipating problems with the descent. On the walk back I asked God if I were really to descend this trail. The snow was loose and traction for the descent seemed uncertain and I believe God’s answer was yes. I asked again and received the same answer. I asked once more and got the same answer and a caution not to ask again. I did not ask again, but determined God does not ask me to do anything reckless. Matter of fact I couldn’t come up with one instance of God asking anyone to do something as reckless and illogical. Never mind the time when He asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. And the time when He asked Moses to go back where he was wanted for murder and ask for the Israelites to be set free, slipped my mind. The time when Ananias was told to go and lay hands upon Saul and pray for him, in spite of the fact that Saul was on a mission to eliminate the Christians, also did not come to mind. Not to mention the event with the snow and the darkness when God told me to turn off my headlamp and rely upon Him as my light. Not one instance came to mind and I prayed for God to get me out of this untenable situation.
God did get me and the ATV out safely. I am once again left wondering what I could accomplish with the faith that would permit me to follow God’s direction, even when it seems to be reckless.