One Year Later

I’ve heard a million illustrations for what leading change is like, but in this instance it was driving a car where each passenger had access to a brake pedal.

Imagine driving a car like that.  Or for today’s story, envision yourself helping the driver interpret the map and the guide book, and helping him take care of the passengers.  You know the Guide (in this case God) who gave you the keys wants you to fill the car with people who can't find their way, but for every down on their luck hitchhiker you pick up, one of the passengers who has been with you for a while steps on the brake, hops out and climbs into another car. You try to move on, but that was someone’s friend, someone’s parent, or child.  The other long term passengers may not have gotten out, but they are understandably upset.

When you try to start moving forward, the car won’t move because someone has their foot on the brake. They ask you to track down the car that their loved one is now riding in and convince their loved one to get back in your car.

You try explain that all the cars are heading in the same direction, and that you have to focus on helping people currently heading in the wrong direction.  You try to dialogue about why you are determined to press on.

In doing so you find yourself repeating things you need to hear. The destination is worth it. You can get their faster in the car.  The car can carry more people.  But for every foot of progress there is another foot on the brake, and it wears you down.

You get frustrated, like we all have when driving. In a moment of road rage and you lash out at a passenger or two.

After that outburst, a few of people who once encouraged you to keep going are putting on the brakes.  Some do it hoping to get everyone working together.  Some are reminding you that the mission is worth the frustration, and others remind you that no matter what happens those driving the car can’t take their frustrations out on the passengers.  Everyone says they want the vehicle to move forward, but until they reach some kind of consensus the car isn’t moving.

Despite your frustrations, you love the passengers, and it dawns on you that, with a few modifications to the car, you could make this work.

But working on the car requires pulling over, having everyone get out, and you’ll need some serious teamwork if you are going to overhaul this thing.

You and the driver read and study as people grow restless.  You start sharing the fruits of your research and trying to lay out a plan that you genuinely believe will make things run more effectively.  But while you’ve been researching, a few more people have hopped out and flagged down a passing car.  A few people have wandered over to see what’s happening and while love the concept for your redesigned car, their voices drowned out by the crowd of passengers upset over you trying to remove their break pedals, demanding that you just get back in and keep going the way things always have been.

They throw a little paint on the exterior, and hop back in, expecting you to go along.

The driver, who had worked on the concept for redesigning the car for over a decade, insists that the vehicle still needs to change.  He says that he isn’t sure he should be behind the wheel if the changes aren’t made, and a group of the most influential passengers agree, some reluctantly, some exuberantly and suddenly your driver is gone.

When you start to climb back in the seat offered to you is not in front, helping to navigate, but somewhere in the middle.  Not being accustomed to a back seat you start planning a graceful exit, hoping to find ways to explain why you just can’t travel like this.  Some of your friends see it coming.  You try to lean forward and quietly talk to those influential passengers now sitting upfront, to make one more plea for change but you realize that in order to get their attention you will have to become one more person stepping on the brake.

More than a bit frustrated you think to yourself, “if this is how the car is designed, maybe I should just roll with it,” and mustering your courage you stomp on your brake pedal demand to be heard...

And that’s when it happens, someone in the front seat whispers an accusation, unfounded, but the threat is clear “Leave, and this accusation will stay between us, or stay and have your name dragged through the mud.”

In fear and anger you unbuckle and reach for the door handle.

You find yourself on the side of the road, sobbing.

At first all you can do is stand in the pouring rain, crying, angry, feeling like you’ve failed the Guide…  You hide in the bushes because you can’t find the words to talk to anyone.

Eventually you run out of tears.  You are hungry and lonely and you stick your thumb out at the first car that passes by.

That car has the same brake system as the car you left and you can't bring yourself to try that again, so you continue trying to hitch a ride.

After a while a limo stops.  It is luxurious, and the food smells great but the driver is separated from the passengers by a sound proof window, and you realize the intercom isn't working.  He stops to check on the passengers as often as he can spare the time, but there are so many passengers, that you never seem to be able to get his attention… All you wanted to do was offer to help him…

A tour bus pulls over and it's loaded with passengers.  You hear some awesome music coming from inside and everyone seems happy to be there.  About the time you are ready to hop on board you see a few people in the uniform of the bus company hop off, and change out of the uniform.  You see how tired they look, and you remember that feeling. Undeterred you ride along for a stretch, and after a good nap and a meal your vision clears and you see the depth of the needs all around you.  You try to help, but the system for reaching out to those closest to your heart is in chaos, and you quickly determine that it isn’t your place to try to change to a system that isn’t asking for change.

Not being the type to just ride along, you take your leave and start walking again.

Instead of having your thumb out, your hands are in your pockets.  And you soon find yourself of the road, on a series of trails.

At first you worry that by wandering away from the main road you're wandering way from the guide, but you soon realize that the trails you are walking run parallel the road you used to drive.

A few friends seek you out and walk with you for a few miles at a time. One is a friend who used to sit upfront in the car with all the brakes, another is from the first car you ever traveled in, there is also a family member, and a new friend whom you met when he stopped to ask for directions.  A guy who still loves the car with all the brakes rounds out the crew.

They are all traveling the same direction in various vehicles.  None of them have given up on cars like you have, but they are all willing hop out at regular intervals and take turns carrying your baggage, listening, laughing and occasionally crying with you.  

After months of getting nowhere, you begin picking up speed.

As you start moving your head continues to clear.  You become aware of the needs around you and stop to help.  You flip through the map and guide book with renewed interest, and your perspective is different.  Instead of everything being filtered through your need to get a vehicle moving in the right direction, you learn how to move.  Instead of wondering how to motivate a car full of people to help others, you just stop and help each time the Guide points out a need.  

You notice that the amount of time people spend walking with you is gradually increasing, some even stop to help with the needs you are seeing.

Your trail intersects with the road, and you spot the car with all the brakes, stopped again.  You smile at the people inside.  Your heart aches with how much you miss them, but you take a deep breath and keep moving.  You walk by the tour bus, stopped to refuel, and see how excited everyone seems. You pray that they will stay as happy as they appear to be, but you adjust the straps on your back pack and keep walking.  A friend pops out of the limo and offers you a ride, but you pass.  No sooner has he pulled away then you spot a friend who seems to having trouble with his load, and you shoulder his burden for a mile or two.

A thought creeps into your mind, "My new way is so much better than what everyone else is doing…"

No sooner have you thought it than you repent.

You realize that your friends traveling in the different vehicles are moving in the right direction too.  Most of them think your way is strange. After all, “Why walk when you can drive?” is a hard question to answer.  But you notice that you are all moving at about the same pace. You've all got a similar number of close friends traveling with you, you are all meeting needs that are the important, and you are all getting closer to the finish line, and day by day to the one Guiding you.

You ponder what the guide book says the broad road, and the narrow road. You wonder about those asleep in the comfort of the bus, or those pigging out in the limo, or those who spend their time with their foot on the brake arguing about where to go instead of actually going.  But a phrase from the guide book comes to mind, Who are you to pass judgment on another person's choice of transportation, The Guide decides whether or not their progress is acceptable, and they will make progress for the Guide is able to keep them moving...

As long as they travel with the Guide, they will be fine.

There are plenty of people without the Guide, who either have no map, or are using a counterfeit, and they help.  It was your desire to help them that inspired you to want a front seat in the first place.

The next time you are tempted to think your way is better (and it happens more often than you'd like to admit), you realize that there are people lost on the trails that no vehicle can reach who need the help of someone on foot, but it is equally true and there are many who would never make the journey if they had to walk it.

You start to wonder if the church isn’t the vehicle you’re in, but a road we are traveling.  A road that starts with one Gate (Jesus), overseen by the Guide(the Holy Spirit) and ends at a destination only the He knows, one we will only reach when He decides the time is right.

Maybe the church isn’t even a single road, but a direction.  There is not question in your mind that there is only one true north but the path that each of us takes to get there may be as varied as we are.

Maybe down the road, you’ll catch a ride again.  Maybe your rag-tag band of hikers will go in on a vehicle together.  After all, hiking comes with its own set of challenges.

For now you tighten your boot laces, and remember that you’ve always loved hiking, and more than anything you trust the Guide.