May 4, 2007

There once was a young orphan girl who was sent word that the King wished to adopt her.  Her name was Gilda and, as one looked upon her, she seemed hardly more than a peasant, clothed in her drab and gray raiment along with her dirty countenance and hopeless glaze in her eyes.

But as the day for her joining the new family approached, the King sent a message to her that she was to come to the forest.  Gilda was afraid, but in the end ventured from the pointless drudgery of her existence into the shadows beneath the trees.  She found that a path had been prepared and near the eave of the forest was a small signpost that had words engraved upon it.  “To the one who receives Him, He gives the right to become a child of God,” it said (from John 1:12).  She walked along musing over the message when she passed by another which said, “If we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently” (from Romans 8:25).  And then, after awhile, she came upon a third sign which read, “Our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us” (from Romans 8:18).

The gloom under the trees frightened Gilda, but the signs strengthened her resolve.  She continued along the path wondering where the path would take her next.  And then, the path came to a sudden stop at a small, stone cottage.  At the bottom step was another sign.  As she drew near to it, she could read the words written upon it, “If we are children, then we are heirs – heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ” (from Romans 8:17a).

Gilda cautiously climbed the steps and approached the heavy wooden door.  She listened carefully for a moment and thought, to her dismay, that she could almost hear the sound of heavy breathing.  She slowly swung the door to peer inside and then drew her breath in sharply.  In the center of a large room was a tall, wooden table with three bowls set upon it.  The smell of something sweet filled Gilda’s nostrils and her hungry tummy growled.  But what had caused her to gasp was the enormous form of shaggy brown bear on the other side of the table, staring at her with piercing black eyes.  The bear lifted a paw towards her and, to Gilda’s astonishment, seemed to be gesturing her towards the table.  Gilda took a deep breath and then walked forward while the bear watched.  As she came to the table she could see all three bowls very clearly, the first had a card that simply said, “Pleasurable Pursuits”; the second a card that said, “Company of Others”; and on the card of the third was written, “Presence of the King.”

The huge bear raised his massive head and gazed into Gilda’s eyes.  A deep growly voice rumbled from his chest and Gilda felt terrified.  “One bowl was left here for you,” he said simply.  “Can you tell which it is?”

Gilda looked at the bear, and then she looked at the bowls.  She gingerly picked up a spoon and put a taste of the first bowl to her mouth.  The steamy spoonful burned her lips.  “It’s too hot,” she said timidly.  She then tasted the second bowl, but little ice crystals crunched as her mouth closed about the soon.  “It’s too cold,” she said.  Then she tasted the third.  The porridge, sweetened with brown sugar, seemed perfect to her.  “This one is just right,” she said, although she felt strange in talking to a bear.

The bear smiled in a bear kind of way and, in his growly voice, said, “Always remember to find your refreshment in the presence of your King, dear lady” (see John 17:3).  And with that encouragement, Gilda ate all the porridge in the bowl.  When she was done, she truly did feel refreshed.

When she had finished, the bear motioned her on towards the next room, a large room in which sat three chairs.  A second bear lay across the floor like a huge rug, but she looked up as Gilda entered.  Somewhat smaller than the first bear, this second bear spoke with a somewhat less growly voice.  “One chair was left here for you,” she said simply.  “Can you tell which it is?”

Gilda looked at the first chair and swallowed hard.  It was so high that she couldn’t see its top reaching up into the shadows near the ceiling.  At its base was a stepstool with words carved upon it, “My Righteousness”.  She stepped up onto the stool, but although she reached with outstretched fingers and stood on her tiptoes, she could not reach the edge of the seat to pull herself onto it.  “It’s too high,” she said sadly.  She climbed down and managed to easily climb onto the second seat.  She sat there a moment but then realized that the seat was enormous.   Beside her was a basket with a tag attached to it that said, “My Accomplishments.”  She opened it and began to pull out all sorts of pillows of various shapes and sizes.  But although she unpacked all that the basket held, the seat stretched out around her still leaving her feeling small and insignificant.  “It’s too wide,” she told the bear and then climbed down.

Gilda came to the third chair and easily sat upon it.  It was amazingly comfortable and fit her perfectly, as though it had been made for her.  A label on its armrest said, “The King’s Purposes”.  “This one is just right,” she reported to the bear who had been watching her all along without comment.  “Of course,” the second bear replied.  “It was built with you in mind.  You weren’t intended to rest in your own righteousness or achievements, but only in the purposes of your King, dear one (see John 15:16).

Gilda sat a moment, resting, but then the bear shooed her on to the upstairs room.  “He’s prepared even more for you,” the bear said gently.  And so Gilda climbed the steps until she came to the landing on which stood three separate doorways.   A third bear stood before them.  In the smallest voice of the three bears (but still somewhat growly), he said, “One of these apartments has been prepared for you.   Can you tell which one?”

Gilda looked through each of the doorways.  On the other side of the first one was a rough room, scarcely furnished but with one large bed in the center.  About it stood a weaver’s loom and a spinning wheel.  Beside the door was a small sign that said, “Pointless Labor.”  Even through the doorway, Gilda could see that the bed was nothing more than a splintery, old plank.  “That one is too hard,” she murmured softly as she turned away. 

Through the second doorway, over which were written the words, “Fruitless Ease”, there was a general lack of light.  In the dimness, she could see the plush cushions of easy living while a lack of air and light emanated from the room with an obvious staleness and stagnation that threatened to choke her.  She sighed and turned away again.  “That one is too soft,” she said simply.

But then she looked through the last doorway, and smiled.  Over this door was written, “The King’s Plans”.  She nodded and said, “Let me guess… It was built with me in mind.  Not only am I to find my refreshment only in the presence of the King, my rest only in the purposes of the King, but I must also reside daily in the plans of my King.”  She turned to the last bear.  “Am I right?”

The bear nodded his head.  “You are right, lady.  Enter into your residence, rest, and be refreshed.  You are a daughter of the King and this is the will of your new Father.”

And so should we all heed the counsel that God sends us and take note that a difficult circumstance, although it may be a “bear of a problem”, is the means by which God would wake us up to the invitation for eternal life that He extends to all who are willing to trust Him.

(Thom Mollohan and his family have ministered in southern Ohio the past twelve years.  He is the pastor of Pathway Community Church, which meets on Sunday mornings at 455 Third Avenue.  He may be reached for comments or questions by email at pastorthom@pathwaygallipolis.com).