My home state of West Virginia has always been subject to flooding. The mountains are so close together that the river valleys and hollows—or “hollers” as they’re pronounced there—have nowhere to channel the waters produced by the heavy rains. So earlier this month, when the entire east coast was being deluged with rain, a swath of water came through Victor and Marie Atkins place down in Mingo County and made a completely new river where their yard used to be. So after an entire night trying to do what they could to salvage their place, Victor and Marie find themselves on both sides of this new river. Marie yells over and says, “Victor, how do I get to the other side?” And Victor yells back, “You ignorant woman: you’re already ON the other side!”
This morning, we’ve been singing and listening to music about our walk with God. And walking with God has two components that are symbiotic with each other. They need each other. They are of no use without the other. One has to do with what Victor and Marie had to wrestle with, and that’s “how do I get to the other side?” Life is a journey; it’s a process. It’s walking with a goal, an end in sight. In other words, life is not entirely about this life: it’s the trip that we make to the end of this one.
But the other component of our walk with God is the walk itself. It’s the time that you spend walking with God.
Early in the morning, Jeanette and Mom and I are going to drive over to Fargo, head south on I-29 to Sioux Falls, then hang a right on I-90. In a certain respect, part of this trip is a journey toward a goal. That goal is Mount Rushmore. Mom is 80 years old, and she’s never been to Mount Rushmore. Her son is 53 years old, and he’s never been to Mount Rushmore. I can remember sitting in the 4th grade with my nose firmly ensconced in that geography book looking at those Presidents’ faces carved into the rock on that mountain, and I remember even back then this longing to actually travel and go to this special place. Like so many things, it just hasn’t worked out until now. So when we finally pull into the park and pay the entrance fee, it will be, in certain respects, the end of a journey.
But if that’s all there were to it, if the whole thing was simply to see Mount Rushmore, then we probably would have flown out to Rapid City. We would have rented a car, driven up there, looked, snapped a photo of all of us standing in front of the monument, purchased some overpriced mugs at the gift shop, turned around, gotten back in the car, and then hopped back onto a Northwest Airlines flight back to the Twin Cities. I imagine it’s something that could be done in a day.
But that wouldn’t be, at least in my view, very much fun at all, would it? And so, we’re going to drive out there because seeing Rushmore is simply the excuse we have of driving through the Dakotas. We’re going to see and stop at most of the major tourist traps between here and there and then back again. We’re going to spend the night in Mitchell and see the Corn Palace. We’re going to exit I-90 before we get to Wall and head south and then drive through the Badlands National Park and come into Wall from the south. We’re going to go to Wall Drug and drink our free ice water and buy a 5-cent cup of coffee, and then we’re going to meander out to Rapid City and then south to Custer. And then, after we see Mount Rushmore, Jeanette and Mom are going to visit the places that sell Black Hills Gold jewelry while I go out taking pictures and then I’m going to go up to Deadwood and take pictures while Mom and Jeanette visit another place that sells Black Hills Gold jewelry and then they’re going to visit another place that sells Black Hills Gold jewelry while I drive out to Custer State Park to take pictures of the bison and then after a couple of days of that we’ll head back east where I’ll have to pull over to every sign that says Black Hills Gold jewelry and they’ll go in and look around while I sit in the car waiting impatiently until I get bored and start taking pictures of the parking lot.
So you see, this trip has two components: there’s the ultimate goal of seeing Mount Rushmore, but the journey to there and back is equally important.
When the scriptures speak of our walk with God, it’s more than the physical putting of one step in front of the other. To walk with God means fellowship. To walk with God means companionship.
But sometimes it’s more than that: to walk with God means an escort through dangerous territory. To walk with God means being with Someone who knows the pitfalls, who knows where the danger spots are.
Sometimes, walking with God means that you don’t walk at all; you have to be carried when you can’t carry yourself.
Sometimes, walking with God means walking with someone who is able to point things out, kind of like a celestial tour guide. It’s paying attention to God to show you things you would not ordinarily see.
But most of all, walking with God is really the only way to get from Point A, which is this life, to Point B, which is the end of this life, so that we can make connections to Point C, which is the life that is beyond this one.
Once upon a time some Christians were traveling in the Middle East. They heard about a wise, devout, beloved, old believer, so they went out of their way to visit him. When they finally found him, they discovered that he was living in a simple hut. All he had inside was an old, lumpy cot, a chair, a table, and a battered, greasy stove for heating and cooking. The visitors were shocked to see how few possessions the man had, and one of the blurted out, “Well, where is your furniture?” The aged saint replied by gently asking, “Where is yours?” The visitor, sputtering a little, responded, “Why, at home, of course. I don’t carry it with me, I’m traveling.” “So am I,” the godly Christian replied. “So am I.”
And happy trails to you.