Out in the woods along some lightly used trail, dangers lurk to snare the unsuspecting. Even novice hikers are aware of some of these. A brush with poison ivy leaves one itching for relief. An upturned tree root hidden under fallen leaves can trip up the unsuspecting and wrench an ankle. Even today, out on a brief training hike for an upcoming backpacking trip, I walked head tilted downward focusing on the terrain, and the brim of my hat obscured a low hanging branch that whacked the top of my head. A tad lower…..?
Some dangers are seen; some, unseen.
Recently my bride and I were able to get away for a few days of much-needed R, R, &R. Most of the time, we did just that—rested, relaxed, and read. Our destination was six hours away: Lake of the Ozarks in Missouri. I was a child the last time I set foot in the Show Me State; Chris had never been. So the newness of it all was itself an adventure. Because the possibility of retirement is likely less than a decade away, we also thought the area may be a potential retirement location?
Besides the R, R, & R, we also like to get in a bit of exercise, and for us that means hiking and/or biking. We left the bikes home and opted instead to take the hiking gear. Not far from our temporary residence for the week are two decent state parks, Lake of the Ozarks State Park and Ha Ha Tonka. So I fired up the laptop, double-clicked on my All-Trails app, and explored the various trail options in each park.
Reviewing the posted pics and trail features, I opted for the Turkey Pen Hollow trail in Ha Ha Tonka—a 7-mile loop.
By the way, strange name for a park, huh? Sounds like a kid laughing at the gift he got for his birthday—you know, “Ha Ha!…a Tonka truck!” Of course, that can’t be it…but it does have to do with laughter. And the laughter isn’t from a child, but from the water. “Tonka” is apparently a Native American term for “water.” The guy who originally purchased all the land built a large European style castle on the property, dubbing it Ha Ha Tonka (“laughing waters”), inspired by the nearby Niangua River.
Back to the hike…
Weather was perfect for a hike. Temps in the upper 70s when we began, climbing a bit into the mid-80s later on. A nice mix of sun and clouds. After arriving at the trailhead and lacing up our boots, we stopped by the information signage before heading off, mainly to get a visual of the trail map. But there it was. A sign warning of danger.
Ticks.
Lyme Disease.
A lifetime of misery and agony await the unsuspecting victim of a tiny speck of flesh-eating evil.
My bride is none too fond of bugs. Ticks rank much farther down the scale. “Loathe” might be a better term.
Well, I’ve seen those signs at every trailhead everywhere I’ve been. Maybe not in Arizona. Didn’t particularly cause me any great alarm, and I was dressed for it: long pants, hiking socks, boots. Chris donned the socks and boots, but zipped off the lower part of the legs from her convertible hiking pants, so she was much more vulnerable.
I was prepared to help. Pulled out some bug spray with 10% deet (not really enough, by the way) and gave her lower legs a good dose.
Off we went, danger duly noted.
The trail really was nice. Some rolling hills. A while in the woods, then out in the open. Lots of greenery. Small lizards scurrying about. Variety of flora and fauna. A very pleasant stroll, only moderately challenging.
Then about halfway through the trail, as I was walking just ahead of Chris, she told me to hold up a minute. Looking closely at my pant leg, she announced, “Ticks!” I examined the front of my pants, and sure enough…3 or 4 of the little pests were heading north in search of lunch. Checked her out, and she was clear—the deet did its duty.
Shortly thereafter, “Hold up!” she ordered. A few more hungry varmints.
And so it went for the rest of the hike, stopping every 10 minutes or so to pick the nasty, Lyme-Disease-carrying critters off my pants, a couple off my shirt, and now her socks. Needless to say, my hiking partner was ready to be done with that hike! In all our treks together, we’ve only seen one tick—I picked it off my sock after a short trail in Pennsylvania. This was a bit overwhelming.
Back to the car, we took off as much clothing as decently possible and found a few, fortunately before they could burrow and bite. We couldn’t get back to our condo fast enough to get a good, hot shower and make sure the ones we found didn’t have any relatives hidden somewhere!
Finally. Certain we were tick free, Chris mentioned how thankful she was for the warning of tick danger. Indeed.
Dangers Unseen
But if there was a warning about a tiny unseen danger, I didn’t see it—the warning or the danger!
The day after our hike, lounging by the nearly deserted pool, reading and soaking up a bit of sun, I felt a faint itching sensation around my ankles. Scratched a bit and looked to see what I was scratching. Appeared to be a couple mosquito bites, so I largely ignored them. For a while.
The itching intensified, and now in more places. Upon further examination, I discovered a dozen or so bites, all on my ankles, shins, and calves. They definitely weren’t ticks, thankfully. But I soon realized they also weren’t mere mosquito bites.
Then I remembered reading in Backpacking with the Saints that Belden Lane spent lots of time hiking in Missouri near his home in St. Louis. And one of the menaces he mentioned was chiggers.
I never encountered those guys before. Before now, that is. And I’ve yet to see one! I never saw them, but they sure found me. For the next week, their brief presence in my life made a very noticeable impact. Mosquito bites I can endure. Feel the itch, and just ignore it.
Not chigger bites. If a mosquito bite is a gentle tap on your ankle, a chigger bite is a fully cocked punch! I finally broke down and bought some Chigard medicine. It’s almost like putting nail polish on the bite, but with medication. A more helpful remedy applied when we got home is a mixture of crushed plantain leaves in olive oil. Works great to relieve itching—try it out on your mosquito bites!
In All of Life
So on our short 7-mile hike, we encountered dangers seen and unseen! Just like in life, right? And just like in the Christian life, too.
The more we get to know God through His Word, the more we discover what He likes and dislikes—what is safe and beneficial for us, and what is dangerous and harmful. Think about a couple of the Ten Commandments.
“Thou shalt not steal.” And you recognize a bunch of dangers associated with that commandment, right? You see something you’d like to “appropriate” without paying for, but you also see a police officer showing up at your door…a trip to the county jail…standing before a judge…and so on.
“Thou shalt not bear false witness.” And personal experience tells you the danger of getting caught in a lie, or of being harmed by someone else’s lies against you.
Some dangers to your Christian life are fairly easy to see. But some remain unseen. Very real, but unseen.
In his discussion about putting on armor for spiritual warfare, Paul the Apostle wrote,
Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. — Ephesians 6:11–12 (ESV)
Ever lurking, hiding invisibly right before us are these unseen dangers. Their objective is not to bite at our ankles, but to poison our souls, lure our hearts, cloud our minds, ruin our lives. Hence, Paul’s counsel concerns spiritual armor—truth, righteousness, the gospel of peace, faith, salvation, and God’s Word itself.
Had I been savvy enough, I would have applied some appropriate repellent ahead of time to keep the ticks and the chiggers away, foiling both the seen and unseen dangers, and saved myself a bunch of misery.
The prudent, attentive Christian will do likewise.
And, by the way, we’d prefer to live out the last years of life as free from tick and chigger danger as possible. I guess it won’t be in Missouri.
