It doesn’t take too many pages of Bible reading to grasp the picture that we humans are caught up in something way larger and more complex than we can fully imagine. Like tourists navigating an outdoor bazaar without knowing the language or customs, we stumble through, distracted here and there with that look that welcomes another to take advantage of you. Having been that neophyte, I know the difference that a trusted guide and interpreter can make in the overall experience.
In Stara Zagora, my friend Tunde, was such a person. He knew what I did not know and shepherded me appropriately. He let me stretch on my own, make some missteps, yet kept a watchful eye to guide me from the normal pitfalls an adventurer like me easily makes in a foreign place. I have always needed those people who knew more than me and freely gave me the benefit of their lives without trying to conform me to something that my Father never meant for me to be.
To be honest, I don’t see enough of that kind of shepherding in the church organizations I’ve known. Yet, I can identify a truck load of people Father sent my way to guide me. I also have the benefit of the Word of God and other writings penned by lesser authors. Historians, as well, to remind me of the continuum of valor and treachery that is the human experience. I can learn from and be guided by all these sources together. I do not have to be a cosmic traveler, bumbling through the Turkish bazaar of life unless I am too proud to trust my trusted God who speaks in voices that sound like a child, my friends, my wife, Tunde, a host of other sources, or even me.
One translation of Psalm 95:7-8a reads: “For we are the lovers he cares for, and he is the God we worship, so drop everything else and listen to his voice”. In the sad but hauntingly beautiful chapter 30 of Isaiah, we find these words to countermand the obstinate steering of our own way through life: “Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them. Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”
Too much of modern Christianity is based on sanitized and institutionalized discipleship that produces anemic believers. It reminds me of the car dealership my grandfather managed. There was a beautiful Corvette just sitting there to capture my young 14-year-old fancy. One day he tossed me the keys and said, “Would you go warm the Vette up? Someone is coming for a test drive. Don’t take it out of gear, but just sit in it and listen to it purr.” Oh, the imaginary roads I traveled behind the wheel of that beast although I never drove one inch.
Unlike that experience, I know I am made for more than idling Christianity. I have a trusted guide in the Holy Spirit, a wonderful Savior, and loving Father. I have beacon lights all around; the guardrails of scripture, the experience that others have in God, and an overcomer’s heart. So, get me out of the parked, beautiful muscle car and take me to the bazaar where I was meant to walk with abandon and spiritual authority. Not imagination only. Remind me to live a life of adventurous abandon within the broad guidelines and wisdom of my King. A life not in someone else’s discipleship box but lived following my master, the one who called me to be with Him as His disciple in the first place. Anyone want to come along?
—George Davis
