Walking the woods with my sons...
From an early age, the woods have always beckoned me.
Over the years, I've come to realize that many children are scared of the woods thinking they represent hidden and scary villains or dangerous wild creatures bent on tearing them apart. I suppose some of this comes from stories that speak of the woods as a cover where evil incarnate spins it's wicked web and conspires to attack all that is safe and good.
But I've never seen the woods as scary. That is not to say that I don't find them mysterious or even dangerous, but that comes with the territory of the wild. Something can't be wild and safe at the same time, at least guaranteed. I know enough to respect the wild nature of wild nature. To climb trees with caution. To wander further with the nervousness of losing my way ever pestering me. To run through the forest making sure I plant my feet securely knowing there is no manicured path. But the danger and adventure of nature are part of the allure for me.
The sights, smells, and sounds are spellbinding. When I move from the yard into the edge of the woods I feel as though I'm passing through a portal. Going back in time and into the future all at once. I'm leaving man-made and entering God-made. I'm leaving the tamed for the wild. At least this is the feeling I have even into adulthood.
So this past weekend when the weather broke and gave us a couple 50 degree days in the dead of a Michigan winter, I snagged the boys, and told them to get on their boots. We're heading into the woods, boys! It's time to explore and see what we find! They started scrambling to get on their socks and boots and coats lost in their own excitement. They love the woods.
I love watching them play in the woods. In a world that is dominated with devices providing entertainment and amusement, there is something special about the power of the forest to catch and hold a little boys attention.
The first thing they look for is a stick that can act as their sword, machete, and walking stick all at the same time. I remember the power of finding the perfect stick before exploring. Even when I would climb a tree, I would lean the stick against the tree so that it was awaiting me when I made my monkey-like descent.
As we made our way to the ponds through our neighbors property, they were spinning like ninjas and whacking fallen trees while having sword fights with each other. Once we reached the water's edge, they would use the sticks to poke the leaves clogged up along the shoreline. They would use them as crowbars to dislodge rocks. They would pretend they were fishing poles. You name it, the sticks turned into whatever their imagination desired them to be like Moses' staff turned into a snake. It's fun to watch imaginations running wild...and boys are brimming with it.
What I'm getting at is how having sons has allowed me to be a boy again. To climb trees and catch snakes and look for forts. To get lost under the canopy of the woodlands and to find my heart's home in this natural habitat. I feel a permission to lose myself in nature as I once did. To not just be in the woods to cut up firewood for heat is the cold winter months, but to abide there without a utilitarian agenda. To let the woods have their way with me, to recover my soul's center.
The boys and I walked in the woods a few times last weekend and each time I felt new parts of me come alive. My sons can be uncontrollably wild at times testing my patience and getting on my last nerve, but it is the unadulterated wildness that I love so deeply. It's how they were made by God and when I can let go of my domesticated and pre-determined life, the permission to be wild with them stirs my blood so deeply and reminds me of my roots and my dreams.
Acts 2:17 says that "old men will dream dreams and young men will see visions." I know this speaks of what occurs when God pours out His Spirit to unleash His kingdom on this earth, but I think there is something about young men that keep an old man's dreams alive and something about older men that keep a young man's visions alive. Without each other, both die. And how our world needs dreamers and visionaries.
The woods crack open this beautiful mystery in old men and young boys. At least in part...
Over the years, I've come to realize that many children are scared of the woods thinking they represent hidden and scary villains or dangerous wild creatures bent on tearing them apart. I suppose some of this comes from stories that speak of the woods as a cover where evil incarnate spins it's wicked web and conspires to attack all that is safe and good.
But I've never seen the woods as scary. That is not to say that I don't find them mysterious or even dangerous, but that comes with the territory of the wild. Something can't be wild and safe at the same time, at least guaranteed. I know enough to respect the wild nature of wild nature. To climb trees with caution. To wander further with the nervousness of losing my way ever pestering me. To run through the forest making sure I plant my feet securely knowing there is no manicured path. But the danger and adventure of nature are part of the allure for me.
The sights, smells, and sounds are spellbinding. When I move from the yard into the edge of the woods I feel as though I'm passing through a portal. Going back in time and into the future all at once. I'm leaving man-made and entering God-made. I'm leaving the tamed for the wild. At least this is the feeling I have even into adulthood.
So this past weekend when the weather broke and gave us a couple 50 degree days in the dead of a Michigan winter, I snagged the boys, and told them to get on their boots. We're heading into the woods, boys! It's time to explore and see what we find! They started scrambling to get on their socks and boots and coats lost in their own excitement. They love the woods.
I love watching them play in the woods. In a world that is dominated with devices providing entertainment and amusement, there is something special about the power of the forest to catch and hold a little boys attention.
The first thing they look for is a stick that can act as their sword, machete, and walking stick all at the same time. I remember the power of finding the perfect stick before exploring. Even when I would climb a tree, I would lean the stick against the tree so that it was awaiting me when I made my monkey-like descent.
As we made our way to the ponds through our neighbors property, they were spinning like ninjas and whacking fallen trees while having sword fights with each other. Once we reached the water's edge, they would use the sticks to poke the leaves clogged up along the shoreline. They would use them as crowbars to dislodge rocks. They would pretend they were fishing poles. You name it, the sticks turned into whatever their imagination desired them to be like Moses' staff turned into a snake. It's fun to watch imaginations running wild...and boys are brimming with it.
What I'm getting at is how having sons has allowed me to be a boy again. To climb trees and catch snakes and look for forts. To get lost under the canopy of the woodlands and to find my heart's home in this natural habitat. I feel a permission to lose myself in nature as I once did. To not just be in the woods to cut up firewood for heat is the cold winter months, but to abide there without a utilitarian agenda. To let the woods have their way with me, to recover my soul's center.
The boys and I walked in the woods a few times last weekend and each time I felt new parts of me come alive. My sons can be uncontrollably wild at times testing my patience and getting on my last nerve, but it is the unadulterated wildness that I love so deeply. It's how they were made by God and when I can let go of my domesticated and pre-determined life, the permission to be wild with them stirs my blood so deeply and reminds me of my roots and my dreams.
Acts 2:17 says that "old men will dream dreams and young men will see visions." I know this speaks of what occurs when God pours out His Spirit to unleash His kingdom on this earth, but I think there is something about young men that keep an old man's dreams alive and something about older men that keep a young man's visions alive. Without each other, both die. And how our world needs dreamers and visionaries.
The woods crack open this beautiful mystery in old men and young boys. At least in part...
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