Big Picture vs. Little Picture

Paddling down the river in a kayak places a person right on the water.  Your eyes are only about two feet above the water.  Being so close allows you to read the water surface immediately in front of you.  You can notice the slightest ripples, shadows, changes in current and other differences in the water.  As you gain experience in reading the river, you learn what to avoid and where to go.  Without being that close to the water surface it would be easy to paddle right into a mess (which I frequently did in the beginning and still do when I fail to pay attention).

One of the things that I discovered when I went to retrieve my kayak after abandoning it in the woods (see Operation Rescue) was the value of having a different perspective.  When I walked along the river bank in search of my kayak, things looked quite different than when sitting in my boat.  From 10 to 20 feet above the water I could see downstream and sometimes around the bend.  I could see log jams that would have only been apparent as I rounded a bend and came up on them were I looking from my kayak.  I could tell what direction the stream was flowing at any given point, but when you are down on the river it is difficult, if not impossible, to know exactly what direction you are going.  From the river bank I could see big lazy loops in the river bed and realize that a quarter or half mile of paddling often brought me to a point that was only a few yards from where I was previously.

This really helped when I found my boat and began paddling downstream.  Not only was I able to see the water up close and read the river as I paddled, but because I had been up on the bank I knew where potential problems were before I got to them.  There was an island that produced a fork in the stream at one point.  Because I saw it from up on the bank, I knew that one side had a log jam that would have been a royal pain to get around.

When I reached that point as I paddled, it appeared that the right fork was wider and deeper.  It appeared to be the best way to go.  But since I had already seen it from a different perspective, I knew that the smaller, shallower, left fork was the direction I should take.  I paddled to the left and made it around the island with no problems.

Later, I was reading a book on kayaking (after the disaster of my first trip down the Big Muddy it seemed like a good idea to read up on what I was doing before I got myself killed).  One of the points made in the book was that at times it is good to go ashore, climb up to a higher vantage point and get a different perspective on where you are, where you are going, and what is coming your way.  If only I had done that before that first trip  down the Big Muddy.

People tend to fall into one of two types. Some are "Big Picture" and some are "Little Picture."  Big Picture people tend to have great ideas with lofty goals but hate to get bogged down with details.  Unfortunately, their great ideas and lofty goals often don't amount to anything because they do not take care of those annoying but ultimately necessary details.

Little Picture people are focused on the task at hand.  They tend to be perfectionists until every last detail is complete.  Not only that, the task is not complete until it is perfect.  Unfortunately, they often get so consumed with taking care of details that they lose sight of the ultimate goal and the minor details become an end to themselves.
 
The truth is, we need both kinds of people.  Personally, I tend to be a big picture person who gets bored when a job is about 90% complete.  If I don't surround myself with Little Picture people who take care of those details, it is difficult for me to finish the job and achieve my goals. I also have to force myself not to move on until those details are completed.  That is hard for me.

Unfortunately, most of us are more comfortable with our own kind.  I know one person who is the CEO of a large corporation and is a detail person.  Every individual in the company has detailed goals that are very specific.  Those who do not achieve those goals don't fare well when job evaluations come. Most of the people he has hired are also detail people.  Because those specific, personal, goals are all that is evaluated, employees focus on producing numbers that lead to good job evaluations. But in reality, they just do a lot of busy work that doesn't result in the corporation as a whole accomplishing its purpose.  In that particular corporation, the Little Picture is all that really matters, and it is failing.

I could easily mention other examples of Big Picture people who surround themselves with other Big Picture people with failure resulting from the fact that no one takes care of the details.  The important thing is that we all need both perspectives. The same is true in your spiritual life.  There are some people who are totally focused on their personal experience. If they feel the Holy Spirit is leading them to do something then that is it. They will do it. But sometimes they mistake emotion and personal feelings with being the leadership of the Holy Spirit.

Other people reject experiential religion.  They focus on God's Self-Revelation in the Bible.  They avoid any hint of emotion or mysticism and pursue a cold, rational evaluation of Scripture for life.  They miss out on the miraculous and the joy of an intimate relationship with the Lord and other believers.

The truth is that we need both perspectives.  Experiential religion can lead to great things, so long as it is tempered by careful examination to see that it is obedient to Scripture.  I'm tired of hearing people tell me they know God wants them to be happy, and the way to happiness is to divorce their spouse of x-many years and marry that really nice, good looking new person at work (by the way, if they are that "nice" what are they doing having an adulterous affair?). God does not lead you to sin! True happiness never comes from disobedience to God's Word. "If you love Me, keep My commandments (John 14.15)."

But a narrow religion that quenches the movement of the Holy Spirit tends to be dead and legalistic. It denies God the glory He deserves as it becomes an academic exercise instead of a joyful relationship with Him. People are not attracted to a god of the dead.  We serve a Living God of living people.  True obedience to His Word results in joy and celebration.  "Though you have not seen Him, you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory (1 Peter 1.8)."

Keep both perspectives as you paddle down the River of Life.

OPERATION RESCUE

On Saturday night I arrived at home a bruised, battered, bloody mess. My kayak was lost in the woods on the banks of the Big Muddy River somewhere in Southern Illinois. I started out seven or eight hours earlier confident in my ability to achieve my goal no matter what anyone else thought or said.  I returned home in total defeat.

After church on Sunday I got on the computer and looked at some satellite maps of the area.  I eventually found the oil field road on which I had walked out the night before. About one half mile south of that road I found a farm road that went all the way to the banks of the Big Muddy. I got in the truck and drove out to that road.  Occasionally, I had to get out and move fallen trees out of the way. In other places the road was little more than a rut through the woods.  Finally, I came to a clearing by the river.  The river was wide with no obstructions at this point.  The western bank was adjacent to a large tract of cornfields.  I returned home to make a plan for the next day.  

On Monday morning at sunrise, OPERATION RESCUE began.  I drove out to the clearing by the river.  After swimming across the river I climbed the western bank and began walking upstream through the harvested cornfields.  About three quarters of a mile I came to a woods.  Cutting through the woods along the riverside, I finally spotted my kayak on the eastern bank.  Once more in the chill of the early morning I swam across the river.  This time, I hauled the kayak down to the shore on the south side of another logjam.  

From there, I was able to paddle downstream to my truck with no problems. This time I had already walked along the river and knew where the trouble spots were.  In addition, I knew exactly how far it was to my destination.  

It was a fun trip.  No problems, just paddling down the river.  There were some large fish jumping out of the water as they fed.  There were wood ducks, mallards and herons.  At one point, I came around a bend and saw four or five deer getting an early morning drink. I saw several squirrels, rabbits and a few chipmunks.  Most exciting for me, I think I saw beavers near the one logjam I had to deal with that day.  They quickly went under water with a loud splat sound that I took to be a warning smack of the tail of one.  Whatever it was (I'll go to the grave insisting they were beaver) they did not surface again while I was in the area.  

This was why I wanted to kayak down the river.  Adventure, beautiful sightings of wildlife in its natural habitat.  Negotiating obstacles, alone and free.  Enjoying God's glorious creation.  All of this was mine.  In a very short time I came to the clearing where I had begun the morning's adventure. 

I loaded my kayak and gear into the truck, texted Karen that OPERATION RESCUE was a success, and drove home.  After a shower and change of clothes, the defeat of Saturday was only a distant memory.

No matter how badly you have failed on the River of Life, there is the hope of rescue. There is the hope that life can be all that life was meant to be. Rescue, or salvation comes "by grace through faith in Jesus Christ (Ephesians 2.8)."  The Bible promises that no matter how terrible or how trivial (in humankind's eyes) our sins are, that if we confess them Jesus is faithful to forgive them and purify us (1 John 1.9).  Those who trust Christ and humbly turn away from sin have this promise.  "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; look, new things have come (2 Corinthians 5.17)."  This is the hope of all believers.

Just as I had to admit failure and walk away from my kayak that dark night, you need to admit failure and walk away from living in disobedience to God.  Just as on Monday morning I now knew where to go and what to do; when you turn away from sin and to Jesus Christ, everything is new.  He shows you how to live your life in obedience to God.  Just as my Monday morning paddle was everything I could have hoped for; living in Christ brings a new life that is full of goodness, peace and love.  It is the only successful way to paddle down the River of Life.

Abandon Ship!

During that first attempt at paddling down the Big Muddy River I encountered numerous obstacles. As the day wore on, I began to wear out. Paddling, portaging the kayak, getting stuck in mud and quicksand, having my kayak take on water so that I had to pull it to shore and empty it, over and over again made me dreadfully tired. It was frustrating. My wife and son had both told me I was foolish to attempt this when I set out. I hated it as it came to look more and more as though they were right. But I still had hope.

At different times I could hear the sound of traffic from the highway that was my destination. It sounded as though it could only be a short distance away. I was pretty sure I had traveled three miles downriver already. I also knew that as the crow flies, the distance from my starting point to my goal was only about two and one half miles. Even as the sun set and twilight was beginning I hoped to somehow retrieve victory from the jaws of defeat.  

I called Karen on my cell phone and asked her to drive to the bridge on the highway where she was supposed to pick me up when I was finished.  It took her only five or ten minutes to get there. Mean while, I continued to paddle down the river.  She called back when she got to the bridge. Now it was time for my master stroke to save the day. I asked her to honk the horn of her car, confident that it would be near enough that I could either paddle or hike to my final destination.  

Listening and hearing nothing but crickets chirping, frogs croaking, and vehicles on the highway, I asked when she was going to start honking. The answer that she had already honked her car horn several long blasts was heartbreaking (for me). That did it. I was not going to make it. I paddled to shore, pulled the kayak up, and lifted it over the bank to high ground where it would be safe. It was pitch dark now and I was going to have to hike out of the woods in nearly total darkness.

On about the third step from abandoning ship for the last time that night I stepped into a stump hole that had formed when a tree had become uprooted and fallen into the river some time long ago. When I fell I went straight down about three feet, hurting my leg and dropping my cell phone. I nearly panicked as I reached down to the bottom of the hole trying to find the phone. After about two or three minutes ( it seemed like a lifetime) I felt what I hoped was my phone. I pushed a button and a tiny bit of light appeared. It was my phone!  

Karen was still on the other end. My mind was racing for some way to find my way safely home. At that moment an opening appeared in the clouds and I saw a nearly full moon high in the sky on the other side of the river. I asked Karen if she could see the moon in the sky and if she did, was it in front of her. She had to get out of the car and look. She only saw the moon for a moment before it was covered by clouds, but it was off to the left side of the road more than it was in front of her. I had hoped that the moon was nearly due west of both of us. But from what Karen saw, it was more southwest. That meant that the river where I abandoned ship was flowing either west or southwest rather than north to south. I would have to guess at how to walk out. Home, and town, were due east but I was not sure what bearing due east would be (no compass on primitive phone).  

After saying good-bye to Karen I started hiking out. I wanted to get away from the river because of stump holes and the possibility of falling over the bank and injuring myself. I guessed as to what direction east was, but quickly became disoriented because of the thick brush. I seriously considered trying to find a place to bed down for the night and then hike out in the morning.  Once in a great while I could see the moon, but it was mostly total darkness. Wearing shorts and water shoes, I could feel my legs getting cut and scratched by briars, weeds, and underbrush. Finally, after about thirty minutes I stumbled onto a dirt road. I called home and told my son that I was hiking down a dirt road and would call back when it finally came out. As I went on I discovered the road was an unmarked oilfield road. That meant I was probably in the middle of nowhere. After a two mile hike I came to a public road and realized where I was. I called home again and a few minutes later my son pulled up and drove me home.

I arrived at home a tired, bruised, bloody, mess.  It was several weeks before my legs were healed up.  My arms healed a little more quickly.  My first attempt at paddling down the river was filled with lessons learned the hard way.  The adventure itself was a failure.  I had set a goal.  I tried to reach that goal.  I failed.  I didn't even come close.  I came home without my kayak and no idea how to get it back.  All of us have to deal with failure in life.  Sometimes you can blame it on others, or on bad circumstances.  What is hard is when the reason for failure is totally and completely your own fault.  That is what I had experienced.

I planned poorly. I was unprepared. I ignored warnings from others. Even when I knew I was in trouble I continued to keep going on the same course. There were times I could have turned back, but I wanted to do it my way.    

Everyone experiences this on the River of Life.  The Bible tells us "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3.23)." This means that each one of us has failed in life.  You are not going to make it to your destination.  Your destination for life should be to live in the presence of God. To abide with God will bring life, joy, peace, and every good thing.   Some scholars would say your destination is to know and enjoy God.  But because of choosing different destinations and setting off on our own in spite of warnings, experience, knowledge, and troubles, we have failed.

The good news is that there is a remedy for our failure.  We'll talk about it next time on Reading the River.

Time on the River

I always hate it when I am proven to be wrong and Karen turns out to be right.  I think most men feel that way.  Unfortunately, it happens more often than I would like to admit.

One of the more foolish things I ever did was that first kayak trip down the Big Muddy River.  It was late afternoon and I was bored.  This adventure had been on my mind for some time.  I had not really researched the course of the river but knew about how far it was from below the dam where I would put in to the highway where I would stop.  Given my paddling speed, it seemed that 2-3 hours should be plenty of time. Karen told me I was crazy and that I should not start this trip so late in the day.  But because I was stubbornly insistent, she dropped me off at the launch point.  I had between 4 and 5 hours of sunlight left.  Starting down the stream, everything was going well.  I knew what I was doing.  I would call her to come and pick me up at the bridge where the river went under the highway in a few hours.

The first submerged log slowed me down.  A little while later, grounding on a sandbar and then getting stuck in some quicksand slowed me down even more (not to mention scaring me and making me incredibly tired).  The journey became a series of mishaps as I discovered logjams created by fallen trees and brush every 100-200 yards.  Even though the river was frequently 40-50 wide, there seemed to be one jam after another.

Sometimes, I could find a way to paddle through, going over, under or around limbs and logs.  At other times, I would have to paddle to shore and portage around.  Then of course, there were the times I misread the river and wound up with a cockpit full of water, abandoned ship, and had to haul the kayak to shore.  I would dump the water out and portage around the obstacle (fortunately this occurred less and less frequently as I learned from my mistakes, ever so slowly).

I was getting tired.  Not from paddling; but from sinking, getting stuck in quicksand and mud, and from portaging.  Quite often a portage included lifting the kayak over a steep bank that was over my head and then working my way back down.

I continued to make progress, but the going was much slower than I had imagined.  This wasn't at all like my trips out on the open water of the lake, or even around the shoreline.  It was start, stop, and start again.  I was tired and my muscles ached.  The sun was sinking low enough in the sky that I couldn't see it over the sides of the tree-lined bank.  But there was plenty of light and I was beginning to hear the sound of cars from the highway.

Unfortunately, the sound of automobiles carries a long way down the deep banks of a stream in the woods.  I kept on paddling, thinking I was almost there, but the sounds of the  highway never seemed to get any nearer.  Part of this was due to twists and turns in the river that actually did bring me nearer to the highway, then further away.  Part of it was due to unrealistic hope on my side.  But the truth was that I was much farther from my destination than I knew.  The sun was finally going down.  In a matter of just a few minutes it was so dark I could no longer see well enough to paddle down the river.  For the last time that day, I had to abandon ship.  I pulled it up on a high bank where I knew it would be safe.  Then, in nearly total darkness, I hiked out of the woods and called on my cell phone for someone to come and pick me up.  The next day, I discovered the distance down the river to the highway was about twice as far as I had originally estimated.  I also found out that I made it about half way.  I simply ran out of time before I could get it done.

 Everyone has 24 hours of 60 minutes each, of 60 seconds each, every day (or 86,400 seconds per day).  Most of us have difficulty managing those seconds.  A few highly gifted, or perhaps highly disciplined people are always right on time and allow exactly the right amount of time for every task. But most people are time challenged.  Some of them are so overwhelmed by all the things they have to do and the limited amount of time that they simply give up and attempt nothing, or at least very little and waste most of their time wringing their hands and exclaiming they don't have enough time to get things done.  Some of us (I include myself in this group) tend to be overly optimistic on who much we can get done in a limited time.  We bite off more than we can chew, an unanticipated problem comes up, and we fail.

Life is like that.  Most of us have things we need to do which we are waiting too late in the day to finish. You may have some relationships that you need to restore.  There may be something important you really need to tell someone.  You may need to forgive someone or ask their forgiveness.  And time is running out.  Most importantly, your relationship with God may not be what it needs to be.  Many of us are so busy with day-to-day life that we put off our relationship with Him.  We intend to take care of it, but we think we have lots of daylight left.  We really don't know when the sun will go down on our lives.

Jesus told the story of a successful farmer who was in this situation.  His chief concern was his farm.  He decided to tear down his barns and build larger, new ones.  He had great plans for his future.  Then, when he had finally made his farm the best one for miles around, he would relax and enjoy life.  But for now, he had work to do.  That night, God said to him, "'You fool! This very night your soul is required of you; and now who will own what you have prepared?' So is the man who stores up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God.' And He said to His disciples, 'for this reason I say to you, do not worry about your life, as to what you will eat; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing.' (Luke 12.20-23)."

As you think about your life and the time you have, make sure of your relationship with God.  None of us are guaranteed tomorrow.   We spend too much time worrying about insignificant things that no one will remember one hundred years from now. Take care of what is truly important, today.   Make sure that you spend your time with Christ the Lord.  Don't find yourself having to abandon ship half way down the River of Life instead of paddling to the end.

Paddling Down the River

T

I enjoy kayaking on the lakes and streams of Illinois.  Learning to kayak has been an interesting journey.  I began on some of the lakes in the area where the water was calm and smooth.  The first time I tried to go down a river (The Big Muddy) was quite a learning experience.  I set out on a wide, smooth stretch of the river and proceeded quickly downstream and around a couple of bends.  The first mile went so well that I mistakenly thought I knew what I was doing.  

After the second bend in the river I began to notice odd patterns on the surface of the water, but considered them to be of no significance.  I was more interested in the bluffs above me that I was seeing for the first time.  The next thing I knew, the current had quickened, the kayak shot forward and hung up on a submerged log.  It quickly turned sideways in the stream and water began to pour into the cockpit. I had to abandon ship!  

I pulled it over to the side of the stream, flipped it over and emptied it of water and put in again on the other side of the submerged log.  It all happened so fast that I was a little stunned.  This was not what I had planned.  The current had slowed down again and paddling was going smoothly.  I was beginning to relax and enjoy the journey once again.  As I went around another bend in the river I paddled through the inside of the bend.  Before I knew what was happening, I had run aground on some sand just below the surface of the water.  I needed to get out again, but at least I was not sinking.  I just needed to pull the boat off the sand bar.

When I stepped out of the kayak, I immediately began to sink.  The sand was so porous with water that there seemed to be no bottom.  Thank God that I had my personal flotation device on.  Fortunately, I was able to flatten my paddle out and that seemed to stop my sinking.  But I had gone down to my armpits.  I was scared.  For the first time, I realized I could get killed because of my ignorance about what I was trying to do.  After a few minutes of work I was able to move across the sand bar to a place where I found some solid footing.  I dragged myself out and took a short swim in the river to rinse all the sand off.  After carefully getting my kayak off the bar, I was ready to try again.

This time, a sadder but wiser novice began to paddle down the river.  I was no longer watching the scenery go by, I was trying to learn to read the river.  The odd patterns I had noticed and dismissed earlier were my guides.  Ripples could tell me of changes in the depth of the stream and the speed of the current.  Odd waves that appeared out of nowhere indicated slightly submerged rocks, trees and other dangers.  The inside of bends were smooth, but always shallow with sand, silt and mud.  I began to watch the sides of the banks for indications of fallen trees that were waiting to trap me as they lay waiting under the surface of the water.  

As the journey continued, I still made mistakes and learned things the hard way.  But the mistakes became fewer as I paddled along.  After that first voyage on the river was finished, I had to rest.  I also bought some books on paddling and how to read the river.  It is amazing how much different things are when you are better prepared and realize the danger around you.  Surprisingly, because I have more knowledge, am better prepared, have experience, and a healthy respect for the dangers I face; I actually enjoy getting out on the kayak more than when I first started. But it was essential that I learn to read the river, the meanings of the patterns on the surface of the water, the bends in the river, the width of the stream and countless other clues that told me where to paddle and what to avoid, so that I could finish my journey.

Jesus was asked to give a sign to prove Himself one day.  His response was instructive.  "When evening comes, you say, 'It will be fair weather, for the sky is red,' and in the morning, 'Today it will be stormy for the sky is red and overcast.'  You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times.  A wicked and adulterous generation looks for a miraculous sign, but none will be given it except the sign of Jonah (Matthew 16.2-4)"

The same is true for us today.  Many people are looking for God to put up a bright, high def sign that tells us that He is real and this is what we should do.  But the truth is that God has already given us everything that we need to see to believe in Him and follow the way He would have us to go.  

We seem to struggle with right and wrong.  When professional athletes cheat, we argue that it is okay (if it helps our team).  After years and years of lowering standards of content for sex and violence in publications, film and television, we are puzzled by the increases of violence and sexual assaults on women.  The list goes on and on.  Our culture has become biblically illiterate.  Even professing Christians no longer know their Bibles well.  But it is in the Word of God that we learn to read the River of Life.  There are signs of danger we can recognize.  There are safe havens we can move toward.  But the course we should follow only becomes clear to us when we study God's Word and learn to follow Christ.  When we follow Him on the course He has set for us is when we can truly begin to enjoy the life that He has given to us.  Happy paddling!