I was out running this past Saturday at daybreak. As I was plodding along, movement on the road ahead of me caught my eye. As I looked more closely through the rosy light, I made out the shapes of a doe and her young fawn. I dialed back to a walk, not wanting to scare the deer, hoping that I would be able to get as close as possible. As I walked slowly and intentionally, the deer stood still, watching to see what my true intentions were. Finally, I got close enough for their comfort and they darted back into the woods. I thought that they would keep running, but they didn’t. They stopped about 10 feet off the road and got perfectly still. I could tell that the mother was trying to blend into the trees, hoping that I wouldn’t see her. Her fawn, on the other hand, was having no such luck. The fawn was nervous, moving about making a great deal of noise. He was stamping, twitching, and creating a commotion that telegraphed exactly where he was. It was apparent that the fawn had no idea of what to do in this situation. Then I saw something I hadn’t ever seen before. The fawn looked at his mother as she stood perfectly still. Upon looking at his mother, he became still. He stopped moving about and began imitating his mother. He began blending in. He learned what to do by watching what she was doing.

As I dialed back up to a run, not a far dial mind you, God spoke. Basically He said, “That’s how it works Blake.” In that moment, my Father answered a prayer that I had been offering to Him for the past several days. I had been praying, “Lord, teach me how to live. Teach me how to be human.” I have been waiting for God to answer. I thought that maybe God would point out Bible verses or maybe impart some great knowledge. He did neither. Instead, God gave me a living example, an example that made a simple point. We learn how to live by watching the one who gave us life. Much of my life I spend stamping about nervously. I have no idea of what to do much less how to do it. I can pretend that I am the expert, but inside I am JELLO all the way down. I cry out, “Help me. I don’t know what to do.” I wait for God to do the spectacular. Rather, our Father simply says, “Just look at me.”

I wonder, how much time do I spend truly looking at God? How much effort am I expending in seeking to live as He lives, to take up His character, to have His life become my own? Honestly, very little. I spend more time whining, complaining, and stamping about nervously wondering just what I am supposed to do. I think I now have my answer. I am supposed to be watching Father and do what He is doing.

A fellow traveler,

Blake
Spiritual Formation Pastor