Jesus on Safari: Breaking the Plane

Archived: Written October 18, 2012

I went on my first African safari in 2007.  Four trips to Africa later, I've been on about 10 safaris in Swaziland and South Africa, and I still can't get enough.  I love driving along, on our own or with a guide, scouring the reserve with the naked eye, watching and waiting for those special moments: sighting the Big Five - lion, leopard, elephant, rhino, water buffalo; spotting giraffe, zebra, hippos, crocodiles, monkeys, baboons, snakes, hyenas, kudu, impala, and loads of other beautiful animals - it is quickly growing into a favorite past time.  

Driving onto a reserve, signs warn you to enter at your own risk, keep your windows rolled up, don't hang items (especially body parts) outside of your vehicle, and never, ever feed the animals.  If you really let your mind go there, there is a lot to fear on a game drive; but there is also a lot of beauty, creativity and life to be enjoyed.  If you let the signs keep you out, you will miss breathtaking moments and incomparable memories.

Last year, I was visiting a lion park, and (rebelliously) riding with my window all the way down.  While my head and camera were turned to the right, my friend whispered, "Tara!  Tara, turn around!"  I turned quickly and froze ... as an enormous male white lion strolled alongside my window.  I could have reached out and touched him.  "Take the picture!  Take the picture!" my friends whispered.  But I was frozen - maybe in fear, maybe in wonder... but I was not going to die of lion bite just because my stupid camera beeped upon flash.  Nope.  I just watched (or froze) and enjoyed the exhilarating moment between that lion and my window.

On my first safari, I was given clear instructions that I could put my window down at my own risk, but to not lean any part of my body outside of that window.  So long as the vehicle maintained its own original composure, the wild animals would assume our vehicle was just another large animal and typically leave us alone.  But once you break that plane, you signal something interesting - an opportunity, a curiosity - and there is no guarantee you will not be attacked.

I remember thinking that this is so similar to the life in Christ.  Life is, in essence, a wildlife, and there is much to risk and to lose; there is also much to be experienced and enjoyed.  Scripture is full of rules where God tells us to do certain things and to not do certain other things.  Sometimes we read those rules and we get frustrated with God - why can't You just let me live my life?!  But Deuteronomy (yup, Deuteronomy) tells us over and over again that God gives us instructions like these: "So that you may live; so that it may go well with you..."  He wants us to enjoy life; He also wants us to make it out alive.

This year has been exhausting and terrifying.  In a five month span of time, I almost lost my mother more times than I can count due to heart surgeries and a horrifying recovery process ("She's gonna live... she's not gonna live... She's gonna live... she's not gonna live..."); my grandfather unexpectedly passed away just two days before mom came home from the hospital; I worked two jobs, well over full-time, in addition to working a little too hard to maintain a 4.0 GPA in a full-time masters degree program (I know no one cares about GPA's anymore...but welcome to the neurosis of a perfectionist).  In the meantime, my family is dispersed between Colorado, Indiana and Florida, while mom is back in a nursing home, Dad is caring for her and pastoring a church; the love of my life is a continent away, and I cry over the biggest and the simplest of things.  Doctors giving us conflicting messages; nurses not following mom's medicine regime; a professor changing an assignment; sitting with my grandma who has Alzheimer's while she lovingly, yet confusingly, strokes my cheek; friends are distant; I got an A-; I got mascara in my eye...

My life these days is a safari - some wild beasts, some pesky monkeys - but big or small, I am feeling the heat.  I'm driving with my windows down, trying to take it all in; trying to be brave, to be present and fully alive.  But something within me is still terrified that I will be eaten alive.  The other day as I was thinking about my wonderful safari memories, the Lord whispered to my heart:

"Just don't break the plane."

Life is chaos right now, to be sure, but staying in the vehicle, I will make it through alive.  Corny as it sounds - my vehicle is Jesus.  In John 15, Jesus said "Remain in Me..."  It is only when I step outside of Him that I put myself at risk.  But remaining in Him, no matter how many wild beasts or pesky monkeys lurk at my window, "no harm shall come near me."

I know that God never promised that life would be safe.  I know that He never vowed to make it easy or pain-free.  But He did offer a way to make it through alive - and even to enjoy the ride:  

"Remain in Me..."

So these days, while I'm crying over chipped finger nail polish and yellow autumn leaves, I'm thanking God that when I am weak, He is strong - that His grace is sufficient for me - that His banner over me is love - that He will never leave me or forsake me - that He will not leave me as an orphan - He will come to me - He is my Glory and the Lifter of my head - in His presence is fullness of joy...

Whatever wildlife you're wandering today, whether you find yourself enduring it or enjoying it, don't break the plane.  Roll those windows down, take it all in, be present and journey through.  But stay in that vehicle, friend.  Remain in Him, as HE remains... with you.