Path

In Pilgrim’s Progress, there’s a scene from the story that has always stood out to me. Christian (the main character in the epic) sees a vast chasm separating him from a door that he has to walk to. However, on either side of the chasm are two ferocious lions that are hungry for his flesh.

Christian knows there is only one way he can go. However, he sees the ferocious lions on either side of the path and isn’t sure how it will be able to make it across the chasm safely.

Then, something wonderful happens. A man opens the door by a crack, and it casts a beam of light in the center of the path. He then instructs Christian to stay on the light and walk toward the door.

Christian begins walking toward the door. The lions take notice and begin charging toward him. Halfway to the door, he sees the lions have nearly reached him. In a terrifying move – they lunge toward him, only to be stopped by a collar and chain around their neck, inches away from the beam of light being cast on the path.

Christian walks to the door, unscathed.

There’s a lot to unpack from that part of the story. If you view it as nothing more than a fiction story, you’re shortchanging yourself; viewing it as a metaphor to live your life will yield greater fruit.

In my life, I’ve had a lot of circumstances where I’ve felt like I was in a similar place as Christian; seeing the path ahead, but also seeing the lions (or lioness) on either side of the path, eager to tear my flesh apart. Looking back on each of those circumstances, I’m reminded of the countless instances where God has placed the path under my feet, even when I wasn’t sure stable footing would be there for me to walk on.

Sometimes our path in life isn’t as graceful as walking on a beautiful beam of light and dancing past the lions. Sometimes God wakes us up from a drunken slumber and reminds us that He loves us, as we are. Other times, He’s there to snatch us out of harms way at the very last second before something catastrophic happens.

A few weeks ago, I took Atlas to the Lewisville animal shelter. In the lobby are two glassed-in rooms where they keep animals for people to visit. As we walked in, Atlas saw a big dog in one of the rooms and immediately wanted to play with it.

I was hesitant, given that it was a fairly large dog. As a result, I walked in first and approached the dog to make sure it was friendly. It was. Atlas carefully approached the dog and pet it for several minutes. It seemed to make the dog’s day, as it wagged its tail and gently received Atlas’ petting.

“Goodbye, big dog!” Atlas said as we walked out.

The next week, we went back to visit ‘big dog’, to the delight of Atlas. Still parked in the same spot on his pillow, the big dog looked at Atlas and seemed to be happy to receive his pets. Still, I stayed close to Atlas and kept a close eye on the dog.

As Atlas was petting the dog, I heard the dog begin to growl. In a split second, I picked Atlas up and snatched him away from the dog; turning my back to the dog and shielding Atlas in case anything were to happen, then quickly exiting the room.

“Dad, you saved me.” Atlas said, as he gave me a huge hug.

“That’s what Dad’s are for, Atlas.” I said.

In that circumstance, there were a lot of things that could have gone wrong. For example, if I were too busy trying to take pictures of Atlas for my Instagram followers (I don’t use instagram) there’s a good chance I wouldn’t have heard the early growl of the dog, and it could have escalated into a bark and a bite. Thankfully, it didn’t.

A lot of parents miss out on the important moments when they’re glued to their IG feed instead of their child(ren), but that’s another topic for another time…

I’m a lot like Atlas, in that I like to get close to the proverbial ‘big dog’, often with the best of intentions. However, sometimes in my eagerness to get close to the ‘big dog’ I forget that it has big teeth and might not have great intentions for me. In those instances, I’m thankful that God has plucked me out of the path of harm in the blink of an eye.