we're going on a bear hunt
and we might be a little bit afraid
We’re going on a bear hunt. We’re going to catch a big one. What a beautiful day! We’re not scared.
Thus starts the song-like chant of the children’s classic by Michael Rosen. My three year old can quote this book in its entirety. A young family of four children, their dad, and dog decide that today is a good day to hunt for a bear. A big bear. Because the weather is nice and they’re not scared. So why not? It’s solid reasoning.
So off they go—but as they go, undaunted though they may seem, their conditions change. They’re now no longer hunting a bear because the weather is nice and they’re wanting a little adventure, but now they’re stepping through high grass (swishy swashy), trudging in thick mud (squelch, squerch), and even fighting a full on snowstorm (woo hoo) in pursuit of a bear. But, they’re not scared, so, the hunt continues.
The book could very easily just focus on this family’s journey and how they enjoyed the day together, but lo and behold, they actually do it. They find their bear. But as soon as they realize what they’ve stumbled upon, what do they do? They cut and run. All the way home through every obstacle they’ve already faced, throwing the dream to the wind in order to lock their door and jump under the covers declaring “we’re not going on a bear hunt again!”
Be careful what you wish for. You just may find it.
This book has kept me up at night. I’m usually at my most existential when I’m tired, so reading this book to my son before he goes to bed becomes much more of a head trip than it’s probably meant to be, and yet I can’t help but feel like somehow my small family has been tumbling around the pages of this book as unwanted participants of “the bear hunt”.
We’re pursuing the “quiet and peaceable life” and the path to it is anything but wide. We stumble trip, and splish splash our way towards something we desire—something we know to be good—only to find that it’s nothing like what we thought it would be. There’s nothing quiet and peaceable about a bear and we are very much afraid.
Correction: we’re afraid and we’re tired. We’ve tried to walk the straight and narrow and while we’ve had entitled brat-like moments, I also know how incredibly thankful we have been for every good thing that has come into our path. There’s so much more to learn in life and I expect to continue to stumble trip my way through it, hopefully becoming more wisened and less bitter as I go, but you’ll have to forgive me if I roll my eyes when, while standing in the middle of a personal snowstorm, someone says “God’s got you—just trust Him. Everything will work out.” Plenty of God-fearing, trust filled Christians have died in personal snowstorms, while waiting for a way out. It’s a lonely place to be, wondering if God loves you enough to pull you out of a pit. Even Mother Teresa of Calcutta struggled to feel God’s love towards her. It’s a lonely place to live.
I sometimes wonder if I’ve ever felt God’s love towards me. I’ve wondered if I’ve only imagined His love, and that the goodness and beauty that I’ve witnessed in my life that seemed to come in moments of desolation were more coincidental than divine. But ever since I’ve been a child, I’ve also noticed the details of things. Whether it’s the body language between new acquaintances or the curvature of a mature hyacinth stem, not a lot escapes me. So yeah, I tend to grown when anyone throws “encouragement” at me that that sounds like it could hang over your kitchen sink and was purchased at Hobby Lobby. “Just Trust” lacks empathy. “It will all work out” screams of a streamlined focus on consolation and no understanding of desolation. These are not phrases that come from people who want to know the man of sorrows. They are disquieted by a crucified Christ who outwardly wonders if He has been forsaken. They want Easter without Good Friday. It’s both/and not either/or and lemme tell ya, the devil is in the details.
No really. He is.
We’re going on a bear hunt. We want to catch a big one. We’re utterly unprepared. We are very, very scared.
There is a fine line between childlike faith and living in denial. It’s a tightrope between “my heart hurts for you” and “be warm and filled”. Some of us have gone on bear hunts and found the Taj Mahal. We were prosperous and God is good all the time and all the time God is good. And some of us went on a bear hunt and found a bear.
Perhaps the love God has shown me is because of all the bears I continue to find myself on. You don’t notice the silver lining of a dark cloud unless you’ve been forced to study storms. For example, this week I have had a constant knot in my chest. We are four months unemployed and with each hope we have been given, it has been quickly replaced with disappointment. I honestly don’t know what next month looks like for us. But everyday around four in the afternoon, my family takes a walk through the side streets of our neighborhood. We have watched the afternoons stay a little brighter and sky become a bit more clear. I have video footage of robins flying around our barren lilac trees and sunsets that have colors that can’t be categorized. Currently, my son and husband and curled up on the couch watching “How to Train Your Dragon” and Sam is resting his head on David’s arm. These are little things and they are everything. They are eternity in a bottle and if my life were less like being pursued by a bear, I might not notice them. These moments of simplicity and reprieve don’t feel like a “big win” but they are wonderfully merciful.
Mercy is the bridge between suffering and joy. Showing mercy to yourself will mitigate your suffering. Showing mercy to others brings joy…Joy wants the whole world to rejoice with it, but mercy understands the reasons why others can not be happy right now. Mercy understands these reasons so deeply that it embraces them as its own, refusing to separate itself in any way from the unhappy, the embittered, the angry, the worldly. Rather than remaining aloof from such people, mercy, without diminishing its own light, joins them in their dark place.
The above quote comes from “Practicing the Presence of People” by Mike Mason. I recently had a friend screenshot the page this quote was taken from and shared that she was praying for mercy for me and my family. It was the most precious gift. I have doubted God’s love for me, but His mercy I have certainly felt. And it stands to reason that if someone shows mercy, then there is love at the very root of their intention. To have someone sit in the dark with you and not push you to trust or take heart right away is the very essence of love. It says “I see you and you are not alone”.
We’re going on a bear hunt. May God have mercy on us.
Always,
Emily
P.S. Just in case you needed a reminder of seasonal mercy, remember that the days are longer now. Go lay in a sliver of sun any chance you get.