slough on a string

Sometimes I feel like a pilgrim, like Christian in The Pilgrim's Progress, trudging down a frequently dark and weary road, but guided along as I hold my Father's loving hand. Quite often I foolishly let go and plunge into a brambly ditch after a kitty that turns out to be a skunk, and then attempt to strike out on my own through the tangled wilderness. I let myself forget that death is out there. But always, He comes after me, takes hold again of my erring paw, and leads me back to the safety of the path. I didn't ask to be loved like this, but you'd better believe it's saved my life.

Still, there are times when I feel like the above-mentioned pilgrim-self is consistently doing something really dumb and weird. I feel like I stumbled into the Slough of Despond somewhere near the beginning, like Christian did. But then after Help pulled me out, before moving on, I took a log chain out of my pocket (what, can you think of a better place to keep it?), and hooked one end to the Slough (please ignore all the logical fallacies in this analogy) and the other to my own belt loop. And so all the time (or some of it) I go around hauling my own personal swamp behind me - which, I'll have you know, is pretty hard work in itself.

And I'll tell you what purpose it serves. Whenever I'm wandering along and suddenly find myself face-to-my-own-face with a mirror, and am appalled at what I see - whenever I jump back in terror from some real or perceived danger - whenever I'm suddenly confronted with a decision or a situation that's much harder and murkier than I'd imagined it was going to be - at these times, I say, as I back away in fear or revulsion or total befuddlement, there behind me waiting is my friendly neighborhood Slough - and, ploosh! in I go. 

To compound the problem even further, the Slough has some inexplicable way of becoming familiar and almost ... comfortable? It's filthy and it stinks and for goodness' sakes I'm up to my neck and sinking ... but, you know, we've been here before, and it's hard to get out, so what's to be done? We'll just kind of ... wallow here awhile, how about.

Bwonnkkk - wrong answer.

It's possible a better solution would be to wrestle my way out, unhook the chain, and quit dragging the dumb thing around with me all over the place. And maybe it will follow me on its own, or maybe there are more Sloughs out there like it, waiting for me. But in any case, maybe a safeguard against falling into them would be to just stop backing away from challenging surprises - to stand still a moment, perhaps, clinging to my Father's hand and gathering His strength - but then to plunge ahead again in faith, and kick maybe some dust into the old swamp, just as a parting gesture.

This is hard. But I think it can be done. Pretty sure it falls into the category of the "all things" I can do through Him who strengthens me. Hmm, yeah.