The Journey to Norberg Lake

Kimberly and I just returned from an amazing week in the north woods of Minnesota, near Ely.

One of our favorite places to stay is Bear Head Lake State Park.  BHLSP lies just outside the border of the Boundary Waters and was voted the "best park in the United States" in a recent Coca Cola poll (BHLSP received something like 1.7 million votes, outdoing other parks like Yosemite, Glacier, and the like!)  Winning the poll, however, hasn't spoiled it's appeal and beauty with rowdy, partying types.

It's often said that one should take a good pair of boots, water, and a companion when out on a hike.  I've been blessed with all three, and I knew it before our hike to Norberg Lake.

Norberg is one of those places where you sigh at the beauty of it when you finally arrive.  The first time I saw the lake, the Psalmist's verse, "He leads me by still waters.  He restores my soul," came to mind immediately.  To get there, however, requires negotiating ankle-busting rocks and roots on the trail.  The journey is well worth the view waiting for trekkers.

One of my flaws is that I'm one of those people who is determined to get to where I'm going in as short a time as possible.  While I was looking down at the rough trail, Kimberly reminded me to stop and take a look at a bird, some trees, or some strange looking fungus.  After just a minute or two, I wanted to be on my way.

At one point, I lost Kimberly around a corner behind me.  Elvis wasn't by my side either, so I walked back on the trail and found K picking wild raspberries.  "Want some?" she asked as she put a handful of berries in her mouth.  "Sure" I replied, feeling a bit distracted from enjoying the view of Norberg.  After a few amazingly tasty handfuls, we continued on our way.

Once again, I found myself head-down, carefully choosing my steps at a pace that would get us to our destination as soon as possible.  A short time later, we made it to Norberg Lake and its unbelievable peace and tranquility.

As I sat on a rock taking in the view, it became apparent that the hike in was a lot like life:  When I view the rocks and roots, where I'm putting my feet, and passing by the wild raspberries along the way, I missed the majority of the experience.  Sure, the lake was worth the trek in.  But there was a lot I missed along the way.

Had I made the journey solo, my beautiful wife wouldn't have been there to remind me of the sights and finds along the way.  (Note to self:  Stop and taste the berries.)

The Power of the Inconvenient, Part 2

I spent most of the other night focused on my job situation when I should have been sleeping.  In fact, I'm not sure that I slept at all.  But I do know that I spent most of the night praying silently about my job situation, concern about bills and if I'd have enough money to pay them, and what direction to go next.

After a long, unrestful night of sleep, our dog Elvis got me up at about 6:00 a.m. wanting to get outside, so I got up, rubbed my eyes, and took him for a walk through a nearby park.  

To be blunt, I wasn't in the greatest of moods, being very tired and focused on events of the previous few days.  Elvis also had a mind of his own on that walk and tried to chase after a few rabbits and squirrels.  He had to stop and smell each and every little smell when all I wanted to do was get home and make some coffee.  To add to my frustration, Elvis hadn't done what we came to the park to do, if you know what I mean.

As we walked in the grass, I noticed a woman approaching us as she walked on the nearby path.  "Act like you don't see her.  I'm in no mood to visit," I told myself.  (I had sunglasses on, so it wouldn't be hard to make it look like I didn't see her since she couldn't see my eyeballs)

Elvis had another idea:  Run to her and drag your master along!  When Elvis is determined, he puts all of his 84 pounds of power into his efforts.  I was in no mood to resist, especially when the woman yelled, "Is that Elvis?"

"Great," I mumbled to myself.  "Someone who knows Elvis.  Now I have to go and talk."  I put on my best smile as Elvis dragged me over to her, and said, "Good morning."  

As we talked about the weather, how old Elvis is, and the woman's own dog, the woman suddenly began talking about church; how her and her husband's recent experience at their church drove them away; how their son discovered the Bible; how she wanted to get to know God again and find a church, but wasn't sure where to begin.  And since our conversation took such a drastic turn, all I could do was remind myself to be available to encourage and support someone who was seeking God.  

The remainder of our half hour conversation on the path in the park, I'm certain, was meant to be.  We discussed how God seeks and pursues us; how He uses events to draw us to Him; how the abuses of the past are not what God wants; about turning from our sins, receiving His grace, and beginning new; how our conversation was meant for us both this morning.

Isn't that the way God works sometimes?  Taking the most inconvenient moments, where we're self-absorbed and ignoring all else, and turning them into events that can turn a life toward the good?

- Where are the inconvenient moments in life that are full of potential, if we'll just listen and be available?

- How can we be sure that we don't miss out on a potentially divine moment?

- Today I'm committing myself to be open to being available for a divine moment.

The Power of the Inconvenient

No matter how detailed our plans can be, sometimes there's another plan at work.  And when it seems that all is lost, a more powerful experience - one beyond what was planned for - results.

Such was the case on an excursion one day in Nicaragua, when a team of us went to Verbo Sur to provide CPR training, leadership encouragement, and vacation Bible school materials.  Hours were invested into the planning, researching and acquiring materials, as well as laying out the logistics of our day.

When we arrived, our (team) plans were set:  Have the staff complete a spiritual gifts inventory; part of the team scores the inventory while I do CPR training; reconvene to interpret the inventory; provide kid's materials.

One of my favorite authors, Erwin McManus, states in his book "Chasing Daylight," that history has an expiration date, and before that date, we have what he calls "divine moments" - moments when we have a choice to respond and take part in a potentially powerful moment that can determine the direction of life.

The thing is, it's up to us to respond and many of these potential moments come at inconvenient times.  McManus contends that it's the inconvenient that carries more potential.  When God has a divine moment ready, do we respond, or do we become frustrated with him and his timing, not even realizing the potential in that moment.  (For more on this, I highly recommend this book!  You'll probably hear more from me in the future on this as well as McManus has a way of drawing out adventurous faith)

Back at Verbo Sur, it appeared that our day's plans were falling apart.  We listened to a lengthy but moving testimony from the pastor; observed side conversations on logistics for an upcoming party at the church; and to top it off, the spiritual gifts inventory didn't make sense to the staff.  CPR training was OK, but cut short as the remainder of the team scrambled to plan how to proceed.

Frustration set in, but we concealed it well, remaining the flexible guests that we were.

Then an amazing thing happened.  When all seemed lost and terribly inconvenient, two of our team mates shared their testimony of their struggle with addiction; their devoted friends and family that never gave up on them; that anyone - anyone - could turn their life around.

As our team listened, we noticed several staff members crying, later saying that they've been burdened terribly by drug, alcohol, and violence problems in their neighborhood that were mightily discouraging. Apparently, the words of encouragement to remain faithful struck a nerve.

The staff told us that they believed we were sent by God at that time, in that place, to offer his comfort and encouragement.

As we parted, our team knew that we made new friends.  We discovered new brothers and sisters in Christ that needed to be uplifted by kind and encouraging words and actions.  All of us stood together to address a deeply serious problem in this neighborhood.

All of the power took place within the last half-hour of our time together.  When all appeared lost to us, a divine moment was in the making and manifested itself before our eyes.

As we parted, we prayed together, thanking God for his presence and praying for strength, faith, and hope.