Loaded For Bear
And besides this,
giving all diligence,
add to your faith
virtue;
and to virtue
knowledge;
and to knowledge
temperance;
and to temperance
patience;
and to patience
godliness;
and to godliness
brotherly kindness;
and to brotherly
kindness charity.
For if these things be
in you, and abound,
they make you that ye
shall neither be barren nor unfruitful
in the knowledge of
our Lord Jesus Christ.
-- 2 Peter 1:5-8
So there we were,
bored stiff in the Denver airport, en route home from a fun holiday trip to San
Diego. It was New Year's Eve. I was flipping through the Bible looking for a
stellar verse around which to craft my perpetual New Year's resolutions:
1. Let nothing but
dry broccoli and turnip greens pass my lips until I can fit into those cute
clothes I've been saving since the '80s.
2. Get off my duff
and exercise for eight hours a day six times a week, scaling it down to a mere
seven hours on Sundays.
3. Transform into
a person who is trustworthy,
loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave,
clean, and reverent, especially since the Huskers are back and my mood has
lifted considerably.
As usual, I was overthinking and overcomplicating my New
Year's resolutions. If I spent one-tenth of the energy actually living up to
them as I did planning them. . . .
Suddenly, up popped this ginormous dude in a checkered
shirt. He had piercing blue eyes and a great, big smile. He was greeting my
Beloved with hugs and back-slaps, and enveloping my pudgy, city-slicker hand in
his big cowboy paw with a hearty laugh.
Turns out he is the brother of the neighbor who took my
Beloved fishing for a week in Canada last summer. They were in a big bunch of
fun-lovin', hard-fishin' guys who'd had a blast up there being bearded
bachelors together, scratching what itched when they wanted to, how they wanted
to, and so forth. He confirmed the size of Dave's 28" walleye catch by quickly
finding the proof on his digital camera. He's such an anti-technology dude, he
doesn't even own a computer, so he couldn't email it to him. But that was OK:
like everything in the out-of-doors, it's the memory that counts, and the stories
you can tell.
Tim was en route home to southern Missouri after a ski trip
with his family in the Rockies, also killing time in Denver before his flight
home to his cattle ranch. He is one of those adventurous, outdoorsy guys about
whom there should be a TV series, although, of course, he doesn't own a TV,
either, so he couldn't even watch his own show.
But he has done all kinds of crazy things all over the
country, he's as strong as an ox, and he has all the outdoorsman skills . . .
including storytelling.
And as he told this one, I realized that the Lord had sent
my answer for my New Year's resolution, in the way that speaks the best to me:
a story.
It seems that Tim was out in the boondocks of Wyoming or
someplace wild, with a bunch of friends and their sons. It sounded as if they
were tent-camping. One night around the fire, one of the young men said it was
his dream to someday shoot a bear. It was legal in that neck o' the woods, but
a rare coup. Most just shrugged off the notion, but Tim filed it in his "things
to do" file.
Next day, he was out on the range alone on his trusted horse
Roanie, when . . . what do you suppose? . . . wouldn't you know? . . . he
rounded a bend and ran smack into a big, black bear!
Tim instinctively went for his lasso, and roped that bear on
the spot.
Painting, "Cowboys
Roping a Bear," by Frank Tenney Johnson.
It had been done before, of course. But not by Tim! And when
he realized the bear was so close to the horse that he might jump them, he
immediately parceled out about 20 more feet, and then - as if Roanie needed
urging - high-tailed it back to camp.
That bear galloped right behind them, occasionally
somersaulting, but never getting too close to the strong, steady lope of
Roanie. Meanwhile, Tim alternated between anticipation over what the young
man's face would look like, and panic over what could happen if the horse
stumbled or somehow that bear caught up to them.
He was hootin' and hollerin' so loud as the odd trio
galloped into camp that the young man heard the commotion, saw them coming -
rubbed his eyes - looked again - and got his gun. He was already out, literally
loaded for bear, when they came near and got off his shot, clean and true.
"You SAID you wanted to shoot a bear, so I BRUNG you one!"
Tim deadpanned. He said it was one of the happiest moments of his life.
At that moment, I knew how Jesus feels when one of His
children receives one of His blessings. Think of all the work that Jesus had to
do to get our attention . . . least of all the Cross . . . all the things He
has to do to bless us today in our complicated, distractible world . . . and
yet, no matter how outrageous our desires are, if they align with His purposes,
He will do anything - ANYTHING! - to give us what we want.
Like Tim being out in the wild, giving us what we want and
need is Jesus' favorite thing.
Of course, we have to cooperate. Tim had a steady horse and
a good, prepared rope, or else he'd never have been able to pull off that
unbearably special delivery.
But his story reminds us that, when we finally do get our
blessing, who'll be grinning the widest? The Lord will!
A little later in the conversation, I asked Tim what his New
Year's resolution was. He looked down at his shoes with a humble grin, and
said, "Same as always. I wake up every morning and ask myself, 'How can I be a
little bit better person today?'"
So that's mine, too. I'm going into the New Year loaded for
bear . . . expecting God's blessings around every bend . . . keeping my lasso
supple and my mount well-fed . . . eager to go all out to bring blessings to
everyone around the campfire . . . and a great, big smile to the Trailmaster's
Face. †
