Smeagol is Free!
A hermitudinal view of...stuff...


Getting Back to Getting Away

Some days, I wake up and I want to be alone. Like, really alone. No one around me, no one to ask me what I'm thinking or what I'm feeling. Just me, my thoughts, and God. Yesterday was one of those days. For two hours I went away, by myself, with nothing around me except the unassuming beauty of Charlestown State Park in Indiana.

I hadn't done something like that in a long, long time. It felt wonderful, except for the fact that I had the sense that I was rushing through the trail because of other scheduling constraints. *Sigh*...I hate life being ruled by events. Being out where I felt very tiny and insignificant was like having cold water saturating my fevered knot of thoughts. In a word, wonderful.

Strangely, it felt very much like home. I don't think it was in the flora itself, for God knows there's no lehua or ginger blossoms to be found in southern Indiana, much less any puakenikeni. No, what the environment lacked in native Hawaiian plantlife it more than made up for in feel and experience. What I'm getting at is this: most of my favorite places at home were places where I either went to often with my closest friends, or went to often with no one else, just to get away from everything and think. Getting away and thinking is what I felt like I was doing as I meandered through those woods. *Sigh*...there are times when I think I could spend the rest of my life like, alone, in the woods.

And a pile of books.

Yeah...that'll be the day.

When I got back to my car after that wonderful jaunt through the park, I was quite puzzled by what I saw. For a long while, I just stood there thinking of how moronic it was; I didn't understand it. Well, yes I did. Too well, in fact.

I wasn't angry, nor was I even frustrated. I thought of Ephesians 1 and Romans 8. I thought of how even something like this was for my good. This isn't something I have to be downcast about. Quite frankly, I'm not. I wasn't hurt, nor was anyone else. If anything, I feel sorry for them. Do they realize the full implications of what they've done? Probably not. Did they realize that someone is being hurt by their actions? Probably; maybe they don't care. In some ways, I suppose thinking about it made me realize something important: I often don't care about the consequences of someone else's sin until I see that those consequences involve me. But you know what? They always involve me. Why? For the same reason that my sin involves me: they are a great grief to my God, who died to show me how sin is a personal affront to His glory. *Sigh* humanity doesn't like to think in those terms, though.

Seeing what happened didn't ruin a perfectly wonderful hike. Nor did it take away the truths of God's promises. I'm glad for that.

posted by Bolo | 1:40 AM
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