Hope on the Journey: September 2011

"All who wander are not lost..." though sometimes it feels that way! Recently I heard this quote, credited to J.R.R. Tolkien, several times within the span of a day or two. It reminded me of an experience that I had several years ago where some friends and I were wandering around in the dark.

We had decided to tackle one of Colorado's 14ers--Blanca Peak. Our plan was to leave right after work, but we got an even later start than expected. By the time we got to the trail-head darkness had descended and the moon had already risen high into the night sky. There was a mountain lake a few thousand feet below the summit, which we thought was only a few miles up, and it was our goal to reach it that night and camp there. We were packing it in, so we carried tents, sleeping bags, food, and clothes on our backs.

After several hours of climbing on a steep, rough trail, we still hadn't reached our destination. We wondered if we had gotten off track. Though the moon helped light the way a little we knew that we could step off a ledge at any moment. Were we just wandering around in the dark, way off course? It was past midnight by that time and we were exhausted. We had no way of knowing how close we were to the lake, so we decided to pitch our tent on the next level piece of ground we could find and wait for the morning light to give us more direction.

When morning dawned, we packed up camp and were on our way. It turns out if we had kept going, we still would have had over an hour of hiking, so we made the right decision. Our directions had told us that we should drive up the trail as far as we could go and then it would be a certain distance to the lake. It warned that if we tried to keep going we might break an axle or get stuck. Well, we played it too safe with the vehicle and thus had a much longer hike than we should have.

My life as an adult has included what appears to be lots of wandering. I've lived in at least 13 different houses and had over 20 different housemates since graduating from college a decade ago. In each and every case what might have appeared to an outsider like aimless wandering and an unwillingness to settle down really had genuine purpose. Though sometimes it did feel like I was wandering around in the dark, not quite sure if I was heading in the right direction, I can clearly see looking back, how God guided me each step of the way. It's definitely not the life that this homebody would have chosen, but it is definitely the life-path that God in His sovereignty led me on...and I'd do it all over again too!

I've lived in Colorado longer than anywhere else. I sometimes wonder if God is going to settle me down here or somewhere else or keep me on this path of wandering. It is reassuring that wandering does not mean that I am lost. It means that I am a sojourner on this planet that is not my true home. I know that I don't want to get so comfortable anywhere that I am not prepared to move if God calls me somewhere else. At the same time, I don't want to move just for the sake of moving.

What does it really mean that all who wander are not lost? I think it has something to do with the fact that life doesn't necessarily go in the straight line that we expect. We seem to zigzag and back-track and loop around, and there's often lots of change. Sometimes we think we're on the right path, but we don't seem to be getting there. What we expect to happen when we thought it should happen doesn't. It feels a bit like we're wandering in the dark.

But this type of wandering is not aimless. It has a purpose. It is growing us. We're not lost. God knows exactly where we're going. If we keep trusting and walking ahead, eventually the darkness covering our sight will lift and we'll be able to see the trail that we've taken. Sometimes we'll see that there really was a more direct way, but maybe the trail we took was really the right trail after all because we had to work hard and learned so much, growing and gaining strength along the way. As we wander we are found by Him. He's right there beside us, seeing through the darkness, waiting with us for those things that are still hidden. And sometimes, when we just can't seem to get where we're going and all is still dark, I think it's ok, to take a break, pitch our tent and wait for morning. Rest and light always seem to have a way of renewing vision and giving direction to our feet.