Lessons from the Desert
Part I--The Chevy and the Hare
When you drive over some of the dirt roads on the reservation at night, there is a curious phenomenon that occurs. I call it "the Chevy and the Hare" syndrome. What happens is that the rabbits, for some unknown reason, come hopping into the road just as cars drive through. This is exceedingly dangerous for the rabbits and the cars, as both end up abruptly swerving, braking, and otherwise trying to avoid each other on roads that are already winding, bumpy and completely unlit. The rabbits have hundreds or thousands of acres with good cover where they could run, hide, and nest but they are for some reason drawn to the danger. I'm not making an argument for infrastructure development, though that would be good, but rather for obedience--just stay with me.
I think that we are much like the rabbits in our spiritual lives. We have a very big area where we could run but we are drawn to the dangerous places. When I say "area where we could run" I mean that we have been given a very wide berth in our lives. We have an amazing amount of "good stuff" that we can do. We can share our favorite meal with someone, love, play, pray, serve, entertain or be entertained, worship, give, be a good spouse, go to the national park, be a good parent, go to a movie, be a good citizen, do something creative, learn a language, well, you get the idea.
But instead we often find ourselves slipping toward the things in life that we know present a certain amount of danger. Maybe it's that one sin (against God or man) that we secretly rather enjoy. Or maybe instead of participating in bad stuff it is abusing some of the good stuff available, like eating too much of our favorite meal (even if we are sharing it) or spending so much time serving others that we forget about our own families. We've been given the world, but we have to play in the road.
I'm challenging myself to spend more time in the good areas and less time on the edge of danger. The first time I witnessed the Chevy and the hare syndrome I muttered something about "stupid rabbits," so it is fitting that I quit doing the same thing.