Life or Death

Luke 9:23-24

Contemporary English Version (CEV)

²³ Then Jesus said to all the people: “If any of you want to be my followers, you must forget about yourself. You must take up your cross each day and follow me.²⁴ If you want to save your life, you will destroy it. But if you give up your life for me, you will save it.”

In the fall of 2013 we treated ourselves to a long desired trip to New England to view the autumn foliage colors. Initially the trees and the weather cooperated to give us their absolutely magnificent display. For five days we toured Maine under crystal clear blue sky, warm temperatures and peak brilliant green, yellow, orange and red colors. The Mainers called us derisively “leaf peepers.” We adopted the appellation as eagerly as revolutionary New Englanders adopted the derisive “Yankee” appellation that the soon-to-be-defeated red coats applied to them.

The next week we enjoyed Massachusetts. The sky decided we had had enough blue and sun. We got dull grey sky with patches of rain and fog. This dampened and dulled the brilliance but certainly didn’t erase the bright colors.

We were driving the rustic Mohawk Trail that runs from Boston to Albany. It is the only toll-free east-west highway in Massachusetts, and people race along it with purposes far more mercenary than leaf peeping. Most of the Trail is through picturesque towns scattered among hills and trees.

As we drove on one of the wooded sections of the Trail, admiring the artistic mixtures of dark green, yellow and red trees, a chipmunk dashed into the road from the side right in front of us. It had a compelling urge to get to the other side of the road without a hawk or other predator getting it. Its race’s native instinct had not yet adjusted it to blindingly fast, unswerving automobiles.

Suddenly there I was, probably doing only about 45 miles per hour. But on the rain-soaked highway that meant I couldn’t hammer the brakes and skid to a Hollywood stop.  My heart jumped violently as I saw the impending problem. I hit the brakes as hard as I dared without sending us into an uncontrollable skid. The little chipmunk saw its dilemma and took the only evasive action instinct gave it. It zigzagged wildly straight towards me. There was a tiny sickening thump-thump. In the rear view mirror I saw it lying on the pavement, its little tail still twitching. I wept inwardly for the poor little creature.

If only…  If only it had run straight on across it would have made it easily. But in the sudden emergency it reacted by desperately trying to save its life, only to lose it.

Train me daily, Lord, to instinctively forget myself and do things Your way, even if it may hurt me in the short term.