Moving to New Pastures
It is no secret that I like to travel; I even share travel essays on my blog. But as much as I enjoy the benefits of travel, especially exploring and adventuring, I do not enjoy the unpleasant circumstances and challenges that often arise during my journeys.
One time, I came down with a virus the day we arrived at an iconic national park. I quickly learned that sinus congestion does not feel good at 6,000 feet of elevation. I spent the whole trip recuperating at a remote rental cabin, subsisting on gas station fare.
More than once, I have faced stressful logistical complications, such as flight cancellations. Some of them happened in places where there was no other way home, like overseas and in Alaska. In each case, it was very challenging to return home.
On some journeys, I have faced unexpected dangers, such as snakes and bears on trails, fire on a boat, strong currents, and sudden changes in weather. When we lived in Sweden, my sons and I went dog-sledding in the subarctic, but the ride quickly turned from exhilarating to terrifying when my only light went out deep in the forest.
Some of my travel nightmares have been of my own making. On a recent trip out west, I left my computer in a hotel safe. Realizing it was missing about an hour before boarding, I sprinted through the airport like OJ Simpson in that old Hertz commercial. Although I was able to retrieve it, the temperature outside was 114 degrees, so I could barely breathe and needed a shower by the time I made it back to the airport just in time to board.
One must be willing to accept unknowns and risks to enjoy the benefits of exploring new places. Staying put feels infinitely easier and safer. By remaining in place, we believe we can maintain the stability of our comfortable routines and avoid unexpected pitfalls inherent to traveling. But the truth is that whether we physically travel or not, we are always on the move, like herded sheep. Our circumstances are ever-changing, and so are we, as we journey through stages of development, new seasons, relationships, and more.
For me, literal travel is simply a practice ground for the figurative travels that naturally come with being a sheep in God’s pasture. Like any good shepherd, God regularly moves his sheep to new places for their benefit.
In his book A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23, Philip Keller explains how new fields offer fresh grazing opportunities that improve sheep nutrition. Moving flocks helps prevent parasitic infestation as sheep consume grass down to the ground over time. And herding the animals to a new pasture gives the shepherd an opportunity to observe the flock under the stress of movement, assess their condition, and address problems.
Like sheep, Christians are not meant to be sedentary dwellers, but constant travelers, always on a journey to our true home with God. As God moves his people outside the boundaries of comfort and into new situations or seasons, he nourishes us with fresh opportunities to grow stronger in faith. He exposes harmful or unhelpful tendencies and behaviors. In unfamiliar pastures, we are forced to lay down the lie that we can manage everything ourselves. We learn to trust him as the only source of comfort and security, rather than created things like home, belongings, or even people.
By keeping us on the move, God teaches us to loosen our grip on accumulated worldly goods; we can only carry so much on a journey. The more we travel, the more we practice packing light. We learn that God provides everything we truly need for the journey anyway.
Best of all, in leading us to ever-changing pastures, God widens our perspective. Our myopic vision broadens when we see beyond the familiar. Traveling challenges our nearsightedness, and distant truths become clearer.
Still, just as there are pitfalls in traveling the world, moving between pastures has its risks. Like some of my trips, new pastures can be marked by discomfort, pain, uncertainty, or great sorrow. And sometimes, before we can acclimate to one pasture, we are tossed into another. This year, I was expecting to be moved to the pasture of my husband’s retirement, but first, I was thrown into one that included having a broken wrist and an injured shoulder. But even the fields with the most unforgiving terrain contain blessings that cannot be replicated any other way.
Sometimes, when I remember pastures I have known, nostalgia overtakes me, and like reminiscing about a special trip, I miss the places I can never re-visit. Like the fields where all my kids grazed with me, and we always moved together as a flock. Or the ones where all my loved ones were alive and well. Or ones where I was younger and stronger. But God moved me onward from all of those places because he knows best what I need.
I often wonder where he will lead me next. I wonder what beloved sheep will still be with me in the next pasture. I wonder whether the richest field I have ever encountered is still to come or if perils lie ahead. But as much as I do not like discomfort and uncertainty, fear of the unknown will not stop me from moving forward. Just as I will continue traveling the world as long as I am able, I will continue my journey with God until he brings me home. Although I do not always trust the airlines to bring me back as scheduled, I do trust God to be with me no matter what happens.