You can imagine our disbelief, when one morning John Curtis awoke us with shouts of “It’s a bear! It’s a bear!” He had a habit of getting up earlier than the rest of us (around 6am!), but we had trained him to simply go downstairs and play quietly. Alyson and I tried to wake ourselves up and figure out what he was shouting about. I thought I had heard “bear,” but thought he must have said “deer.” Sophie’s shouts soon let me know, nope, he had seen a bear. Right on the porch! It was a comedy of errors as we tried to find a camera with a memory card in it (our evening routine was to load pictures onto the computer). We found a video camera just in time to catch our hungry friend hoist himself over the porch railing, climb down a tree, and trot away. It’s funny, Alyson and I had complained all week about how early John Curtis was waking up, and yet, it was precisely his frustrating habit that provided us with the most memorable portion of our trip. In some ways, that’s how the entire trip went. Our best discoveries, our most memorable moments, often came when we least expected them. We saw the biggest elk we’ve ever seen on an afternoon in which I took a wrong turn and got lost. We knew it was big when most of the cars that had pulled off the road to look at him had Colorado license plates. Without the wrong turn, we would have missed that moment.
In Colorado, it was easy to stay on the lookout for blessings even in the midst of wrong turns, because even wrong turns took you into another beautiful valley. In everyday life, it’s not so easy. Not every corner of life contains a majestic view, and yet, I think the truth holds. Often the greatest God-moments show up in those instances that if given a choice, we would change – in the midst of boring routines, frustrations, wrong turns, and flat out mistakes. The challenge of the spiritual life is to learn to strike a posture that allows you to be on the lookout for God, no matter the circumstances. Philip Yancey tells the story of a rabbi who taught that experiences of God can never be planned or achieved. "They are spontaneous moments of grace, almost accidental," he would say. His student asked, "Rabbi, if God-realization is just accidental, why do we work so hard doing all these spiritual practices?" The rabbi replied, "To be as accident-prone as possible." Amen.
You are resplendent with light, more majestic than mountains rich with game – Psalm 76:4