Walking Straight through Life's Snow Drifts

Midwest winters are snow-filled and cold.  The frigid, frostbitten drifts of January make Wisconsin farmlands look like the endless frozen tundras of the arctic.  On one such day, a grandfather and his grandson have a job to do.  They have to repair a broken fence post on the farside of the field, a good hundred yards from the farmhouse.  After putting on their mittens and stocking caps, the duo begin the long trudge through the banks of snow to the other side of the field.  

Because of the flatness of the plain, the wind had formed the snow into waves that undulated instep with the plow lines of the snow-covered frozen meadow.  The young nine-year-old could not resist the urge to run across and through the rippled banks, while the grandfather, reserved and steady as he was, stayed the path to the broken fence post.  The boy was getting tired with all his running around in frolicking glee and his garb was growing more heavy with the weight of sweat and snow.  

When the two finally arrived at the field's farside, the grandfather turned back towards the house and motioned for his grandson to look.  The grandfather spoke with certainty but kindness, "See how your tracks are all over the place, meandering about the field with barely any direction.  Now look at mine: true and straight as an arrow shot directly at its target.   Son, it's cold out here and I would rather be inside.  So remember: sometimes it's best to keep your eyes fixed on the goal in order to get it done."

In many ways, life is like this.  Throughout our lives, we are either the grandfather or the grandson:  focused on the task or wandering through the snowdrifts in hopes of reaching the goal.  At the onset, it seems necessary to indicate with clarity that the goal of life is to enter into eternity in right relationship with the Holy Lord Almighty, which occurs by grace through faith in Christ Jesus.  Because of this reality, it may be best to think of the grandfather's path as that of the sure and secure believer, the grandson's as the wayward lukewarm questioner lacking conviction and commitment.

In the latter case, the necessary corrective steps, akin to the Prodigal Son, would be to concede in humility to God's grace and commit himself to Christ.  However, and more pertinent for this dialogue, the plight of the grandfather, who represents the Christian who has decidedly fixed his/her trajectory, is far-more easily exhorted than accomplished.

There is a need for an unrelenting focus.  If we, as Christians, are to stay the course that leads to eternity with God, then we must firmly fix our gaze upon the prize, which is Christ, in order that we may finish the race as winners (1 Cor. 9:24; Phil. 3:14; Heb. 12:1-2).  There is a requisite recalibration of repentance that we need to go through so that we can walk with the certain stability of the grandfather and not become reckless wanderers like the grandson.  To be sure, the process of realignment to Christ and His Word is like every step through the winter of this world.  In this way we can truly remain true to the path that leads to eternity.  Praise God who helps us accomplish this task and focus!