The story I’m about to tell you is true. It happened to me yesterday afternoon (as of this writing). Its effects are still with me today and hopefully will be for a long time. It all started with an innocent walk in the woods. I try to be regular about walking as a stewardship of my body. Walking contributes to our health and well-being so I force myself to go even when I don’t feel like it. I was feeling tired and unenthusiastic, so I chose the shorter, but steeper trail to walk. Unlike me, the dogs are never unenthusiastic! They were eagerly exploring off the trail, snuffling and wagging as they went. I was a little jealous. They aren’t hindered by underbrush or limited by stiff joints. What I’m going to try to explain next probably won’t fit through your grid. It will sound ridiculous, or possibly unhinged. But here goes. I got a mental impression of voices in the woods off the trail beckoning me, “Come over here. It’ll be cool.” Immediately I recoiled. I shuddered to think that something dark wanted my harm. Maybe you’ve had the urge to go too close to the edge of something high. That’s the kind of feeling I had. I knew it wouldn’t be wise to try to off-road like the dogs. It would be a very bad idea. “I’m not going to fall for such a temptation. I’m not going to be seduced. That would be stupid. I’m staying on the path.”

Yet that suggestion must have triggered my own imagination and curiosity because later when I came to the upper end of the trail where I normally turn around, I noticed the bright blue sky through the trees farther up. I wondered what I could see from the very top of the ridge. “Well, the trail ends, but there’s a narrow deer trail right here. I wonder if I could follow it? The dogs are already scouting it out. Maybe I could fit through the branches and briars, too. I’ll only go a little farther and turn around if it gets sketchy.”  And things went well – for a while. I was making uphill progress . . . until it got way too brushy to wind through. Oh, well. It was a little adventure and a break from the same ol’ walk. (Can you detect some ingratitude and discontent with what I have?)  I turned around to go back to the trail. But suddenly nothing looked familiar. Had I come up this way or that way? I had had to detour many times to avoid obstacles on the way up, and now it all looked the same. How would I find the way I had come? OK, I’d simply head downhill.   Surely I’d intersect the trail at some point. But weaving through the brush became more and more difficult as I tired.

At last, I came to my senses. I needed help. Time to swallow my pride and call in the reinforcements. I had my cell phone and knew I had coverage. (I do have the sense to have backup on these walks.) Relief swept over me when I heard dear Husband’s voice. I explained what I had stupidly done. I asked him to walk up the trail and call to me so I could navigate by hearing his voice. He dropped everything and came as fast as he could. I followed his instructions to stay where I was while I waited and not try to go any farther.

When his shouts rang out through the woods, I was able to get some bearings, but the brush was merciless and it was slow going moving toward him. Even when he caught sight of me and could give me directions, the blackberries barred my way. It was apparent that I couldn’t get through them to access the trail by the most direct route. He directed me to move in another direction that didn’t make sense to me but I tried my best to obey. By this time I was exhausted. Every step was impeded by sharp thorns that seemed bent on preventing my progress. They grabbed my sweatshirt hood and my sleeves, trying to hold me hostage. I resolutely pulled against them as I moved tree branches now having the comfort of Husband’s voice closer. “Don’t try to go through that gully. Go up and around it. There, now come this way.” I could finally see him, a sight for sore eyes and a weary heart! When I finally stepped back onto the trail and into his arms I felt like a silly child. But a very relieved child happy to be safe and found. Profuse apologies and gratitude. Promises made. Happy ending.

God mercifully protected me and I only have one small scratch. But the beautiful effect today is that I’m alert to recognize voices. The voice of my own sin-inclined desires and the quiet voice of my heavenly Bridegroom. I’d rather check my email instead of writing this blog. And laundry is easier than writing. But I didn’t heed those beckoning urges. I opened my writing software and began. And the quiet voice carries me along.

“A final word: Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil. For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.  Therefore, put on every piece of God’s armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil. Then after the battle you will still be standing firm.” Ephesians 6:10-13

^” Temptation comes from our own desires, which entice us and drag us away.”  James 1:14

“Dear brothers and sisters, if another believer is overcome by some sin, you who are godly should gently and humbly help that person back onto the right path. And be careful not to fall into the same temptation yourself. Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ.”  Galatians 6:1-2

I don’t know what urges you’re tempted to follow but I do know the outcome. Is it time you called in the reinforcements? Are you ready to heed the right Voice? We all have evil pressures within and without. Satan slyly enlists the help of our own desires to pull us toward destruction. We need rescuing. We need the help of other believers and we need the Good Shepherd.