The perfectly preserved word of God is our primary, God-authored, God-arranged, and God-ordained source of truth. Apart from God revealing Himself to us, we would have no hope of knowing Him. However, Romans 1:20 does indicate that God's nature is reflected in His creation. In other words, we could never replace the clear, detailed revelation of Scripture with what we can observe in creation, but creation does bare the fingerprints of its creator, and we can (and should) observe those fingerprints.
I would argue that the same is true of our experiences: the things that happen to us in life are often powerful spiritual lessons (if we're willing to receive them). Much of God's word uses the experiences of men and women to reveal or illustrate truths about the Lord; the more familiar we are with Scripture, the more we will start to see the events of life reflecting and affirming Scripture. And yes, it needs to go in that order: God is the Creator, and creation bears His fingerprints; Scripture is the source, and life is the reflection of that source.
That said, I recently remembered an experience from my childhood that took on new meaning as a reflection of Scripture. It was an encouragement to me, and I hope it will be for you too. So let me tell you a brief story...
The Boy Scout Trip from Hell
When I was in elementary school, I wanted to join the Boy Scouts. It seemed so cool: the uniforms, the skills to learn, the badges to earn, the fun to be had. Eventually, my parents agreed, and I became a Boy Scout (well, technically a Cub Scout because of my age). And it was...underwhelming. The troop leader was a mom, and not quite the skilled outdoors expert that I had hoped for. The other scouts were a hodgepodge of misfits, ranging from socially awkward nerds to those who probably were on parole from a juvenile detention facility. And the events were kind of boring. We weren't learning cool, manly skills - we were mostly doing arts and crafts.
But, there was the big trip to look forward to. The weekend camping trip away from home. In the woods. With a big bonfire and rafting down a river. This was the big-ticket adventure that would make it all worth the trouble. Fortunately for me, my dad was coming along (most kids had a parent accompany them - we were, after all, ten years old).
Unfortunately, the big-ticket adventure was a big-ticket nightmare. I don't remember everything that happened that weekend, but I do remember being scared. Things seemed disorganized. Some of the kids were wild. A few of them - including one in my cabin - had night terrors like something out of a horror movie. The bonfire was less like a cool manly experience and more like something out of Lord of the Flies. And the rafting down a river? The river was much longer than the troop leader knew, which meant we were out there for hours (in Florida, might I add, where some awfully dangerous critters like alligators and snakes are common). And, to top it all off, a lightening storm started brewing while we were out on the water.
No one seemed aware of any of the dangers that weekend...except my Dad. I stayed glued to his side all weekend, and he watched over me and kept me safe no matter what happened. When someone was having night terrors, my Dad was in the bunk beside me as a calming, reassuring presence. When kids were acting like savages at the bonfire, my Dad was seating on the log right next to me so that not one of those out-of-control kids could get any ideas aimed in my direction. When that lightening storm threatened us out on the impossibly long river, my Dad paddled our little raft ahead of the pack with his bare hands, getting us out of the water, on land, and under shelter while the rest of the group was still cluelessly drifting down the river. And when I woke up in the middle of the night with a stomachache (because the whole experience was so stressful), my Dad took me through the dark to the bathrooms (which were in their own separate little cabin structure) and stayed there with me until the knots in my belly subsided.
I don't know what I would have done that weekend without my Dad.
A Reflection of Our Heavenly Father
I know that not everyone is as lucky as I am. It breaks my heart to think that there any many ten year old kids who don't have a dad who would watch over them in a situation like the one I was in. But regardless of what kind of earthly father you had, if you are in Christ, then you have a heavenly Father who watches over you in ways that even the best earthly father could not.
That weekend when I was ten years old, I was in a bad situation by no fault of my own. I went along for the ride in good faith, and the ride was a disaster. But I had my father, and that made all the difference.
The world - especially right now - feels like a camping trip from hell. Storms constantly brew on the horizon, or blow through with terrible force. People around us seem less like reasonable fellows and more like angry, out-of-control children leaping around a fire. It is dark, chaotic, incompetent, dangerous, and uncertain. But we have a Father. He is there in the raft with you when the lightening flashes, the thunder rumbles, and the rain starts to fall. He is sitting with you on the log while everyone else seems to be losing their minds. He is beside you in the night when others have been swallowed up by their fears, and He walks you through the dark to a place of safety and relief when your stomach gets tied in knots about it all.
My father got me through that weekend, and brought me home safe and sound; our Father is doing the same for us right now. Though the weekend may seem long, and the dangers surround us, He will never leave nor forsake us (Hebrews 13:5) and He is going to bring us home safe and sound (I Thessalonians 4:17).
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