Don't Squander the Wander!

Along the roadside in nowhere America you see the weirdest things. The largest statue of whatever, the biggest mound of what-not, and a gazillion historical oddities marking man’s creativity through the ages. We’ve seen the largest (at least 20 ft tall) painted Czech egg, multitudes of metal sculptures in grand scale, the Wheat Jesus billboard, The Corn Palace, Wall Drug; all the essentials. Monuments to the average guy, and artistic renditions of American lore. I love it all. Americana in art and culture, on the side of the road or in somebody’s front yard. Just waiting for you to discover.

My favorite oddity from our latest trip was a three-story prairie dog statue proudly perched outside the Badlands National Park. Yep. A cheesy, tourist trap of a moment, celebrating field varmints with concrete and paint. Oh, the glory of it all though. I had to get a picture.

So, walking to the perfect spot, I forgot my surroundings because, news flash, a prairie dog statue was there to memorialize the millions of prairie dogs in the fields as far as the eye could see. Each of which live in a hole as wide as a pizza pie, and knee deep, all these dwelling doorways connected by tunnels and hiding places. We just can’t fathom the scope or reach of these communities. They are amazing creatures.

Staring at my phone, preparing for the epic photo, I forgot my number one rule. Always look where you’re going. Kerchunk! My leg dropped right into a prairie dog den hole. Like straight down. Like down to my knee. Real life at its best. If there was a video, I bet I’d be a finalist on the funniest video show. Alas, the hole was large, my leg is fine, and we have a great story. Little did I know it would be a tiny glimpse into a historical marker further down that long and winding highway.

History is full of moments that make you stop and think, trying to imagine what made someone decide to do or say whatever they did or said. If we only understood the logic of it all. Like the Vore Buffalo Jump in Sundance, Wyoming. A big sink hole looking ditch used by Native Americans to trap buffalo.

Kind of like a hunting funnel.

Picture the scene with me. Buffalo running wild, being chased by yipping, spear-yielding men running behind the herd, or eventually on horseback, driving the herd in a distinct direction. All of the sudden, the dust from hooves wafting through the air disappears and then so does the scruffy blur of majestic animals running for their lives. They just fall into the pit, with no hope of escape.

The Buffalo Jump.

Mass grave for the next meal.

Effective, but what?!? What exactly?

Used from the 1500s up until at least the 1800s, this system was seen as useful and effective. Seriously though, that’s a lot of buffalo.

Funny, isn’t it? Perspective changes everything. Position determines outcome. Two sides to every story, action and interaction. What is blessing for one might possibly be a pit of destruction for another. So who says which story prevails? Who says whether it was a blessing or a curse? I have no delusions of grandeur in thinking I can understand or decide such lofty things.

But walk with me for a minute.

Innovation isn’t always clean. Or nice. Effective, sure. Useful, absolutely. But kind? Not hardly. Not always. Compassionate? I wouldn’t want to know what the last moments of those buffalo were like. Squirming and kicking each other in desperate search for freedom in a pit of no escape. Yet these very animals meant survival to the ones who pushed them forward to their demise.

To the Indian, this was a blessing. Provision. This was survival, and they didn’t waste a thing. They respected the process and gave thanks. The hungry tribes were justified.

Traveling back to our generation, let’s take it one step further.

What God provides, in order to meet our needs, is one thing. Praise God from whom all blessings flow. Indeed.

But the god of this world, the enemy to all things holy, tries to twist our thoughts to get us to a place where our sense of survival is built on far lesser things. If we aren’t careful, our needs are replaced by wants, and our wants become based on flesh desires and worldly pleasures.

The world, and human wisdom, is out for the personal good. What I need. What I deserve. Unfortunately this path can also bring forth awful players who decide the pain expended on the other side of their scene is irrelevant. Because the god of this world whispers Go get it, you deserve it, at whatever cost.

Not for survival, but for sport.

I can’t help but think about how the enemy, the god of this world, prowls around, trying to get us to jump in a pit.

Sometimes the pit is of our own making. We willingly dive into the deep end of sin.

Sometimes, we are so distracted, the enemy can get us off track enough that we just kerchunk our way down to a place we didn’t see coming.

Unfortunately, we might even find ourselves trapped by someone trying to push us into a pit of their own imagination, trying to preserve their own agenda and bad decisions at our cost. Sorry, friend. This just stinks. But nothing is unseen by God. He will bring justice in His time.

The reality of our life of faith is that God blesses, and also allows hard things to happen. All these things shape us into who we are, and all our experiences cultivate our life of faith. The good and the bad blend together to help us learn to stand strong. Confidently. Steadfast.

The Father provides food for the hungry, love for the lonely, peace for those in turmoil, and justice for those who are treated unjustly. All these are under His authority, and within His timing and plan. His love has no expiration date.

We have the choice, the calling, to follow close to the Father in Heaven. Guided by the Spirit, our lives will have glimpses of the ways things might have gone as we go along our daily road. Sometimes, we find ourselves looking off in the distance, passing a scene of an odd pit over there somewhere, which gets our mind racing. Curiously, we think about it, feel sorry for those who have fallen in, and grapple with all the ethical and spiritual implications of such a visual history lesson. Pits happen.

Either way our heart inclines, the pit is still there.

Observer or participant. We decide.

The pit lies in wait.

Like a hungry tiger on the savannah, peeking through the tall grass for the next victim.

Whether we jump in, fall in, or drive on by, it is there. Every day.

What keeps us out of such depths of doom? Thankfully we have a choice.

Keeping our distance from that buffalo jump is easy with Jesus. Walking our narrow path with Jesus, led by the Holy Spirit and truth, we see where the danger is. We keep our eyes on the path that keeps us safe. We understand the importance of listening to the right voice, following the right crowd, and making the right decisions. We won’t always get it right, but God’s grace covers all.

Doesn’t make us any better than another person, it just means we know who we are, who we aren’t, and that we can’t do any good thing without the redeeming love of Jesus.

We cultivate discernment to say no to the world, and yes to our Savior. In all things.

It is this narrow path, away from the sinkhole’s edge, where we can look across the vast prairie and praise the Lord for His guidance and walk unencumbered by the threats of the world. The path of freedom is paved with the glorious grace of God.

It’s worth it. Every. Time.

(To find out more about the Vore Buffalo Jump, visit vorebuffalojump.org)