A Dark Forest

I spent last week at Goshen Scout Reservation – not because I love to sleep on a cot with a tent full of insects all week – but to assist the Boy Scouts in tracking their advancement. This job comes with all the amenities of camp – sleeping in tents, trips to the latrine in the middle of the night, and the need for flashlights and lanterns when the sun sets.  I am not an experienced camper and faced many challenges during the week.

Late in the afternoon of the second day of camp, we experienced a torrential rainstorm.  A river began to run through the adult campsite.  Our Boy Scouts gained great joy and satisfaction in coming to the rescue of the adults by building a dam of rocks and logs that diverted the water into the woods.  After dinner and the retiring of flags, adults had a “crackerbarrel”. (In Scout language, it is a get together with snacks.)  The events of the day had taken a toll on my mind and my body and I decided to go back to camp before my fellow leaders.

I carefully walked alone from the pavilion, past the commissary and halted as I was about to walk into the forest.  My journey so far had been in the dark, but there were lights on the buildings, so I had assistance of some light other than my flashlight.  I took one step on the path into the forest and hesitated.

“I can’t,” was my thought as my heart began to race and I felt a shiver of fear race up my back.  It was pitch black – as dark as I had ever experienced. Holding my flashlight horizontally, I couldn’t see our campsite. I couldn’t see the bridge that I had to cross.  I couldn’t even see down the hill.  When I shined the light at my feet, I could only see two, maybe three steps ahead.

This novice camper was about to run back to the safety of the crackerbarrel when a sudden surge of courage descended on me. I cautiously took one step at a time, into the forest, down the rocky path that lead to the bridge.  As I carefully navigated my way, I was suddenly struck by the thought that this experience was a reflection of one of my biggest challenges in walking with Christ.

By focusing systematically, allowing the flashlight to show me just the next step in my journey, I had all that I needed to safely reach my campsite.  Similarly, in life, the Lord gives me all that I need to take the next step.  But, I want to see the big picture and want to know where I am going.  Our Lord is with me every day, showing me the next step, but much of my day is spent thinking or worrying about next week, next month, next year and on and on.  As I crossed the bridge and began walking up the path to the campsite, I felt more confident and was not frightened during the final phase of the adventure.

Entering the campsite, I was still reflecting on the similarity of being guided by a flashlight and being guided by God. I must have needed to have the message reinforced. As I entered the camp, I shone the flashlight upward, creating a shadow that frightened me enough that I threw my arms up in the air and let my flashlight fly into the dark.  It fell under a tent platform. I had to get on my hands and knees, in the mud, and reach as far as I could to retrieve the flashlight.  As my fingers strained to grasp the flashlight, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation.  If I had kept the flashlight on the ground, I wouldn’t be retrieving my only light source from the mud. I pictured the Lord shaking his head, wondering how many times I was going to need to learn this lesson.

Then, I stood up and realized that I had left my backpack at the crackerbarrel.  “I won’t forget this evening,” I thought as I turned around and headed down the path in the dark.  This time, I knew that my flashlight was all that I needed and I enjoyed the walk though the dark forest.