Lions and Lessons

So I saw in my dream that he [Christian] made haste and went forward, that if possible he might get lodging there. Now, before he had gone far, he entered into a very narrow passage, which was about a furlong off the porter's lodge; and looking very narrowly before him as he went, he espied two lions in the way. Now, thought he, I see the dangers that Mistrust and Timorous were driven back by. (The lions were chained, but he saw not the chains.) Then he was afraid, and thought also himself to go back after them, for he thought nothing but death was before him. But the porter at the lodge, whose name is Watchful, perceiving that Christian made a halt as if he would go back, cried unto him, saying, "Is thy strength so small? Fear not the lions, for they are chained, and are placed there for trial of faith where it is, and for discovery of those that had none. Keep in the midst of the path, no hurt shall come unto thee."

Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear of the lions, but taking good heed to the directions of the porter; he heard them roar, but they did him no harm.

- From The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan

 I seem to live my life in two modes: lackadaisically or in panic.

When times are good, I enjoy, kick back, and spiritually float along. These are the times when it is easiest to make it look like I have it all together. I am calm and confident, and I have answers!

Then real life hits, the rug gets tugged, everything hits the fan. I find myself grasping for something - anything - that will firmly withstand the buffeting. Usually this involves tears and groaning prayers on my part, begging for a happy resolution and a time of respite once again.

Yet, those moments are the catalyst for growth.

My only catalyst for growth.

Think about it: I ask God to help me grow, then He sends something tough to give me the opportunity to do just that. What do I do? I ask Him to take it away.

In one sense, that's good. At least I'm turning to Him and not away from Him. But I can't rationalize it that easily. Here's why: my prayers tend to run something like this, "Dear God, please help! I don't know if even You can fix this, but please please please try!" (Of course, they sound better out loud, but that's what they boil down to.)

And what happens?

He carries me through, and I see that the lions were chained the whole time. I never was in any real danger. That circumstance, that situation, that relationship that looked out of control was always wholly under His control.

And I see Him turn to me, take my hand, and say, ever so gently, "O you of little faith, why did you doubt?"

Someday, I hope to trust Him first and skip the panic.