“Finally, brethren, whatever things are TRUE . . . .” (Phil 4:8)

Hollywood loves quicksand . . . that insidious, silent, lethal, undetectable (anyone want more adjectives?) substance that catches the hiker unaware and swallows him up, never to be seen or heard from again.

In reality, quicksand is not that dangerous. A person cannot be swallowed up whole since he can’t sink more than what his weight displaces; therefore, most likely he will not sink below waist level.  However, the amount of pressure needed to free himself is about the same as raising a small car, and the more a person panics and struggles to extricate himself, the more area is liquified, and the more the person sinks. Now the quicksand is both debilitating and paralyzing. Even having someone try to pull him out is not possible as the force needed might tear the individual in two! The way for a person to get out of quicksand is to 1) not panic, 2) slowly move his feet to increase the viscosity, and 3) begin to move onto his back and into a floating position. Eventually, his body will be floating on top and now someone can “drag” him to safety.

Most of us have never encountered quicksand, at least not the material kind. But I would wager we all have emotional or mental areas of quicksand: these seemingly benign blind spots in our lives that we fall into on occasion, and our own flailing about only makes matters worse. For some of us this is jealousy, for others it is focusing on the past, and for others worry, just to name a few. Though I do venture into each of these patches on occasion, my pit of choice is “speculation” . . . that tendency to take a “known” and then create a myriad of potential unproven cancerous tendrils of thought. Sometimes it will be a potential response to an email I wrote or a conversation I had or a decision I made. Other times it will be an interpretation over a statement or a look or a decision. Often I will latch onto one of these unfounded scenarios and allow myself to run the scene over and over in my head until, like the physical quicksand, I dig myself deeper and deeper until finally, I am completely immobilized by my own thoughts.

The problem is none of these created scenarios are TRUE. They are all fabricated speculations on my part and 99.9% of the time I get it wrong, and consequently wasted precious time and emotional energy on something NOT true. Perhaps this is why Paul, in Philippians 4:8 begins his list of things to meditate on with “Whatever things are true . . .” (emphasis mine), because he knew how much damage can be caused in our lives by meditating on things that are mere speculation. “Noble . . . just . . . pure . . . lovely . . . good report  . . . virtue . . . praiseworthy” . . . these attributes all follow truth and they have to, for if we flounder in the quicksand of speculating on things not proven, we can never free ourselves to accurately perceive what is pure, lovely, good, virtuous, or praiseworthy.

So if you, like me, find yourself falling into your own personal quicksand, don’t panic, but instead stop the wild thrashing about, and slowly turn yourself heavenward until you have put yourself in a position of vulnerable surrender where God can pull you safely to shore.

“For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without excuse . . .”  (Romans 1:20)

     I have had the wonderful privilege of growing up very close to nature. I grew up in an agricultural community in California’s rich Central Valley. My hometown was also a stone’s throw from two of our most beautiful national parks—Yosemite and Kings Canyon/Sequoia—and a two hour drive from the spectacular Central Coast. I currently live in Northern California close to both Mt. Shasta and Mt. Lassen. I have also had the opportunity to see beautiful countries around the globe, most recently the Bailiwick of Guernsey, one of the Channel Islands, and a possession of the British Crown. (photo above)

     Once again, I was awed by the beauty of creation. Not only in the sheer grandeur of the cliffs but by the variety of plants that we hiked past, the scent of the flowers, the playful songs of the birds, and even the serene calmness of the cows. Add to that the beauty of sunrises and sunsets, the power of the wind, and the warmth of the sun. There is no way I can recount all the intricacies of nature, but let it suffice to say that creation screams of a Creator.

     This is why Paul writes in Romans that God is manifest in nature, so even if someone has never heard of the saving grace of Jesus Christ, he or she has no excuse not to know there is a God. What people fail to realize is that if they admit there is a God, then they must do something with this knowledge. We can’t admit that there is a Creator and then live like He doesn’t exist. There is an immediate unspoken relationship between the Creator (God) and the created (us).

     Paul speaks to this when he continues to write: “. . . because, although they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God, nor were they thankful. . .” (Romans 1:21a)

     God created nature in all its splendor and glory to reveal His splendor and glory and His love for us. Nature is God’s calling card in panoramic grandeur and magnificent surround sound for us to enjoy and for Him to receive praise. May He be praised.

 

 

 

 

 

I have had the opportunity to visit England multiple times. I love the country but must admit that driving in Britain is always a challenge for me. Besides the obvious—they drive on the wrong side of the road—there are other inconveniences and downright hazards. First, almost every car is a manual transmission. That in itself is not a problem except for the fact that the stick shift has to be manipulated with the left hand, and I can’t do a thing with my left hand. Second, their roads are littered with roundabouts, which for those of you unfamiliar with the term, means in essence, you shouldn’t have to stop. You pull up to an intersection, which is circular, look right (that’s important!) and if you have ten feet of room between you and the car bearing down on you, you go for it! (A slight exaggeration but not much.) Third, many of the roads are the size of our alleyways with no shoulder, and not only must two cars pass on these roads, they must pass with cars parked along them. This leads to two approaching cars basically playing a game of chicken as they weave around the parked cars and each other. Even though the Brits’ life expectancy is higher than ours here in the US, I would think they lose a few years just because of near death experiences on the road. I know I have.

I say all this to show you that for foreigners, navigating through Britain is not only difficult but can be downright dangerous.

Fortunately, while I am trying to remember all the technical parts, I do have the benefit of having two GPSs in the car. The first is the one that came programmed into the car. It is the more persistent of the two. It repeats the directions to follow (sometimes to the point where it becomes annoying), and if I miss a turn, it relentlessly reminds me that I have made a mistake and must turn around and remedy it immediately. This GPS is very handy to have.

However, I also have a second GPS in the car. This is my British friend who is sitting in the seat next to me. This one is even handier to have as she knows the roads and the ways of British drivers. Therefore, when the first GPS says to leave at the fourth exit at the next roundabout, my live GPS tells me which lane to get into, when to slow down, which car to follow, and actually points to the exit. She also warns me about possible problems ahead, and overall provides both personal context for the car’s GPS and a sense of peace because I am not having to navigate these unfamiliar roads all on my own. However, I have to admit that once I feel confident behind the wheel, I sometimes get annoyed with the live GPS thinking I can’t do it on my own. Unfortunately, such thinking usually does not end well as I either get us lost, land us in some difficult situation, or create tension between us.

As Christians, we are also on a journey through foreign territory, for we have been reminded that this earth is not our home; we are just passing through. Therefore, we too are driving in a foreign country. Now I in no way want to equate the infallible Word of God with the fallible human created GPS, nor do I want to infer that a human being is on equal footing with the Holy Spirit; however, in some ways there is some similarity to how the car and human GPS work together and how the Bible and the Holy Spirit work in tandem. The Bible provides the directions to live life successfully, repeats these directions frequently (sometimes to the point where we don’t really want to hear them again), and reminds us when we have taken a wrong turn and that we must correct our error and turn around. In addition, it reminds us of God’s love for us and all of His promises (something definitely missing in a car GPS).

However, it is the Holy Spirit, that live GPS sitting in the seat next to us, who makes sense of those directions, gently prods us, whispers reminders, warns of upcoming dangers, shows us how to correct our errors, and reminds us of how God is currently loving us and keeping His promises. Unfortunately, I often take the same attitude with this guide as I do with my human one. I get overconfident or think I can do it on my own, only to end up with similar results: lost, in a difficult situation, and with a strained or broken relationship with God.

As we travel through this earthly journey on route to our eternal home, may we cherish the instruction, correction, and reproof of the Bible and all of God’s promises that it holds, and may we value the personal interest and intervention of the Holy Spirit as It helps navigate us through the roads of this life.

Recently, I had the “opportunity” to participate in what was called “The Three Peaks Challenge.” This was to be a 23 mile circular walk (which means once you start you have to keep on going to get back to your car) that included three of the highest peaks in Surrey, England.  All of the other participants were donating their time and legs for charity. Since I was a guest, I was only aiming for bragging rights and survival. Being a native Californian, the word “peak” created an image that made me tired just thinking about it. The thought of three peaks made my knees weak (one of which was already what the Brits call “dodgy"). I was going to use that knee to my advantage if I began to tire. I wore an Ace knee brace to draw attention and sympathy and lend some credibility to my “dodgy” knee story.

As you can see, I did survive and did so based on two fortuitous occurrences.  First, the Brits are extremely generous with their terms and the word “peak” was loosely used. These were actually three of the highest “hills” in Surrey. The first, Leith Hill measured 965 feet, which is 255 feet smaller than the Empire State Building. The second, Holmbury Hill is the fourth highest hill and comes in at a fighting height of 856 feet, and the third, Pitch Hill, is hard to calculate because no internet site wants to give away its diminutive stature.

The second bit of good fortune was . . . we got lost. Now for most that would mean miles of endless wandering, adding to an already long day. However, for us it meant we missed a turn and thereby inadvertently shaved seven miles off of the intended walk and finished the day with only 16 miles under our hiking boots—not 23. No one was disappointed as it turned out to be an eight hour walking day anyway, and the challenge was to do the three peaks, not the mileage.

Regardless, the company was wonderful and the views gorgeous (or to use another British term—“lovely.”)

If I were to pull a spiritual application from this it would simply be that sometimes our fearful anticipation of a challenge never comes to fruition. The difficulty or pain we dread never materializes. In its place is a wonderful journey.