Leave it to 2020 to bring a snowstorm to Big Bend National Park. Boy! Did we find some fun adventures as we adapted to closures and fully-booked campgrounds! Woody asked us to look for parables around us—both in nature and in our interactions with it.
When I start to grow ungrateful or when my memory fades, he sends me a new reminder of his goodness. He flashes some serendipity. He shows off his sovereignty. He proves his thoughts are higher, his plans better. He lets me revel on one side of the river and then invites me to the other side.
Being aware of God’s promises and his provision helps us understand the narrative he’s writing, even if we don’t know the next chapter. When he reveals his character, he overpowers our insecurities and confronts our doubt. When he supernaturally interjects sovereign moments into our lives, he’s doing it for our good and his glory.
At the bottom of this plunge, Woody began to worry for me. He wondered if I had tried to follow him. He chided himself for taking off on his own—after warning us not to do it earlier in the trip. He imagined the worse—explaining my injury or even my demise to Crystal.
I highly doubt Rudolph realized the inherent advice that he was giving. It’s the same advice I give college juniors and seniors who ask me how to build a successful business and the advice I give nascent auctioneers in the halls at conferences: “Focus on your core competencies. Find what you do best, and focus on the niche market that values that.” It’s advice I had to learn from experience.