A Princess, a Yo-yo, And a Cabin in the Woods

When I was younger, my mom used to take us to visit some friends of ours that lived on a farm. One of my favorite games to play at their house was a game we called "Runaway Princess." Basically, my friend Katherine, her younger sister Cecelia, my sister Sarah, and I would pretend we were princesses and that we were running away (pretty simple, hey?). My younger brother Nick and Katherine's brother Gabriel were the bad guys who had to try and catch us. We usually started out at Katherine's house with a backpack or bag or something containing snacks and other miscellaneous articles four princesses might need while they were running away. Then we would sneak and slink, pad and prowl, and sometimes run through the hills, woods, and wilderness and around the barns and gardens, and all through the property. I don't remember what was the safety zone or even if we had one.

I do remember, however, the adrenaline rushing through my veins when we would be hurtling through the yard, running for our lives, hoping they wouldn't see us, and then hearing the enemy scream, "Look! There they are! Get 'em!!!" Then we would manage to lose them when we hid in the brumbles and bushes or ran inside the house. Everything was so dramatic. We whispered everywhere we went so as not to be heard. We planned out intricate and complicated routes that would take us all over creation in hopes that our familial foes wouldn't be able to follow us.

It was truly exhilarating to be a runaway princess.

But this morning, during my devotions, the Lord reminded me that I'm still a runaway princess. I runaway from Him all the time. Each time I listen to the devils lies and give into temptation, I run further and further away from my Father and straight into the arms of sin.

Imagine where would be if I would put the same energy and intensity into my walk with God and listening to what He has to tell me as I did in being a runaway princess. If only I would runaway from the devil, from myself, that quickly. If only I did my best to make the most intricate and complicated routes to get away from temptation.

But it seems like I go back and forth. I run away from sin, then back to it. I run away from God, then back to Him. Sometimes it's so discouraging because I fail so much and I just feel like giving up the fight. It feels like "yo-yo religion." Yo-yos are fun toys. They go up and down, up and down, up and down...but they don't go anywhere. I can't tell you how many times I've felt like that. I'm going up and down, up and down, but I'm not getting anywhere. Might as well give up.

But then this evening, I thought of a better way to illustrate my walk with God. Several weeks ago, I went on a campout to a small cabin across the river, nestled way up in the mountains. I'm not a super outdoorsy person, but they needed staff, so I was the lucky duck to be chosen. I'd been to this cabin once before, but near the end of the school year when there wasn't any snow. Now there was a lot of snow. And to top it off, we had to use snow shoes, which I had never tried before.

As we walked up, the path was fairly wide and became narrower and narrower. In the beginning it wasn't too steep. But pretty soon we walked single file and it was up, up, up. I got so tired sometimes. The snowshoes slowed things down as well. Sometimes I would trip and fall; it felt so awkward, especially since I hadn't done it before.

However, at one point, as we were walking up a small, steep point, I turned around and saw a breath-taking sight--towering snow-covered mountains bathed in sunlight. You have to see it to really appreciate it and know what I'm talking about. We were up so high and were able to see how far we had come, despite the feeling that it was taking an eternity to get there. I told my friend Ashley that it really made a great object lesson, which is the one I want to end with.

In our walk with God, it's easy to become discouraged because the path can be so hard. It gets so steep, we fall so much, and realize how out of shape we are. It might be easier to simply give up, turn around, and go back to a warm bed. But then I have to realize that "the closer you come to Jesus, the more faulty you will appear in your own eyes" (BEcho December 1, 1892, par. 5) and that it's the righteous man who falls seven times, but he keeps getting up (see Proverbs 24:16).

The devil would like to convince me that I'm a princess who's run away from the arms of the King too many times, that I'm a yo-yo that isn't going anywhere, but the truth is, if I keep putting my hand in Jesus', then it simply means I'm an awkward, not very experienced snowshoer who's putting one foot in front of the other until she gets to the top. And He will take me to the top, no matter how many times I fall. And at some point, I'll be able to look back and see how far God has truly lead me, even when I felt like it was taking an eternity to get there.