One month and counting! In less than 30 days we will be relocating to beautiful Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.   Settlement on our PA house is scheduled for December 30^th.  So, for the month of December, as a family, we are making an effort to say goodbye to friends and enjoy some of the things we’ve come to love in Northern Virginia that may not be as available in our new location-  ethnic food like Peruvian chicken, Vietnamese Pho and our favorite Salvadorian restaurant, for example; a trip into DC to use up some metro credit and take in a Smithsonian museum or two.  We’re also using up gift cards… Regal Cinema, Cheesecake factory, Chick-fil-a & PF Chang, to name a few.

Along these lines, this past weekend, Chloe (the dog) and I took one last hike on the Manassas National Battlefield, which has been a favorite retreat of mine for years.  It’s 5,000 acres of sanctuary in the midst of suburbia, a welcome respite from traffic, cellphones, and well-manicured, chemically treated, artificially green lawns.  On the battlefield, which has been restored to its condition in 1862, if you walk far enough and know where to go, you can see lots of deer, fox and rabbits, very few people and temporarily get away from the relentless grind of civilization.

I thought that the dog would enjoy the walk as I took the 5.4-mile First Manassas Loop Trail… but by about ½ way through, I wasn’t so sure. As we walked past a brushy hedgerow or overgrown wood, she would catch scent of something and pull hard to the left or right- straining with every ounce of her little 24-pound beagle-body.  I pulled back and verbally reprimanded her and she would turn and give me this pitiful look as if to say, “The deer are laying down just over there, let’s go get them, please, please, PLEASE?!?” Now I’m no dog-whisperer, but after five or six or 10 times of that, the look I was getting was much sterner, almost reproachful, as if to say, “You just don’t get it, the rabbits are over here, dummy.” It was then, that it occurred to me… we have different objectives here.  One of us thinks we are hunting, and one of us is taking a walk. My decisions to go a certain direction or stay on the trail or linger at a historical marker made perfect sense if the goal was walking, but absolutely no sense for hunting.  No wonder the dog’s frustrated.

I think the same thing is true about my walk with God.  As I journey through life, I know that God has the lead and that I’m the follower.  That’s what it means to be a disciple. But I often assume that we have the same objective, my objective. Truth is, none of us can ever fully know what God is up to. And frankly, most of our assumptions on how things should go in any given circumstance, surround our own sense of personal comfort, entitlement or efficiency. Then when things happen contrary to our assumptions, and they always do, we turn to God with frustration, “… shouldn’t we be headed over here?”

The Christmas story really underscores this.  The angel gave Mary only the most basic information, “You will give birth to the Messiah. Name him Jesus.” That’s it. The rest she had to trust God for, even when circumstances directly contradicted how she might reasonably assume things should go.   Imagine her questions along the way, “So… why did God tell me about the baby, but not my parents? Why is Joseph threatening to divorce me, when I’m telling the truth? Why am I walking 90 miles to Bethlehem while 9 months pregnant? Why am I going into labor here and not at home? Why are we staying in a cattle stall?  Why is Herod trying to kill my son?  This is the plan?” Mary could never have anticipated the twists and turns of the next 9 months. There was so much more going on than Mary and Joseph could ever possibly have known.  They just had to trust that God had the lead.

Mary makes this amazing statement when Gabriel spoke with her:  She said, “I am the Lord’s servant, may it be done to me according to your word (Luke 1:38).”  In other words, “I surrender.”  We will do this your way. You’ve got the lead, you set the agenda, you determine not just the destination, but how, if and when we get there.  I surrender.

Chloe would have enjoyed the walk much more if she had understood the goal and trusted my heart.  And the Christian life becomes much less stressful and way more fulfilling when we let go of our own assumptions and fully rely on the One who’s promised to guide us safely home.