By Ashlie Miller
If you listen closely, you will likely hear something beckoning you outdoors after a long, cold winter (for us anyway). It may be birds chirping a song, anticipating their fellow fowl friends returning from migration. Perhaps the whispers of daffodils are summoning you to the dirt, spade and seeds in hand. Or, in the case of some of my children, it may be a call to an adventure in the woods to “Big Rock.”
It may not be an original name, but many of us had our own trips to “Big Rock” as children. It had been some time since my last trip, but when my youngest lost something special to him, I knew it was time to venture back. One morning before church, I promised him I would look for his lost treasure – an owl-shaped pendant souvenir from a trip to the zoo perfectly camouflaged for leaf-hiding. I allowed him and his big sister to lead the way. They took me through their path to reach the mountainous boulder – over banks of rocks, through the outer rims of neighbor’s yards (sorry, neighbors!), and up an imposing bank of more rocks covered in ivy. Don’t worry; we did not trek up the ivy-covered stones. Instead, we walked across a rotting beam nestled by a storage building. OOF!
After overcoming my initial embarrassment of minor trespassing and gingerly walking over dangerous terrain, I reassessed our path. After scouring the leafy forest debris for the little owl – which I did find – I suggested a new route to and from the boulder. It was easier to navigate, had less danger potential, and was more beautiful to hike through.
I later thought about how that was a good metaphor for the Christian life: the grief to be spared if we had counsel from others who had trekked similar paths. Who could benefit from the wisdom of our own experience, both successes and failures? What encouragement could we give or need through shared experiences? It is very against the grain: appearing vulnerable as if needing input or offering helpful advice. Many want to ride out their Christian journey on their own merit and discoveries. While the idea of discipleship is not new, many push back on the idea as though it were condescending. I’m not the first nor the last Christian told they did not need to be discipled by anyone.
Why am I so resistant to letting others share the journey with me? Do I want to hide the struggles that others could help me overcome or at least pray through? Could they have known something similar to what I am facing? Are those things in my past that I have overcome not worth sharing with others to speak life into the darkness of their lives?
The journey brings much joy and plenty of rough hills we must climb. However, there are many obstacles we do not have to run into and can avoid if we know they are ahead of us and encouragement to receive in the unavoidable.
How are you helping someone new to the journey of faith in Jesus or simply immature after years of following Christ? If you are new to Jesus, how are you allowing yourself to be discipled by an experienced believer?
Ashlie Miller writes from many adventures in her backyard of Concord. You may connect at mrs.ashliemiller@gmail.com.
