My house is not my own. It really belongs to the three cats who control the daily flow of activity. I’m simply there to make sure the water is fresh, the food is served at the exact same times each day, and the litter is regularly cleaned.
Our orange tabby cat is named Nemo. I admit it – I’m his enabler. I have gotten frustrated by his desire to nibble because our other male cat will scarf down his own meal and quickly hunt for his second round at the buffet.
Therefore, I often plop Nemo down next to his cat dish at meal times in order to make sure our other male cat does not help himself to two meals. When he won’t eat, his food goes up.
Nemo is fully domesticated. However, little traces of adventure pop up, as he races to explore the garage or the back yard anytime I open either door. Once in the backyard, he has yet to try and climb the tree or jump the fence, the comforts of home are just too ideal for any real adventure.
Something is Missing
Similarly, we have become like domesticated cats. Fully domesticated, citified, and/or suburbanized, we have removed or at least attempted to remove all sense of danger, failure, and the unknown from our daily routines. Yet, we recognize that something is missing, even if we can’t quite pinpoint what that something is.
In Mansfield’s Book of Manly Men, author Stephen Mansfield puts it this way:
…I’ve lost something. I’ve become a domesticated turkey. God help me. I’ve had the risk and the daring and the need for adventure squeezed out of me by duty and the ease of modern life. I don’t plan to stay this way.
In his classic book Wild at Heart, John Eldredge writes,
The most important aspects of any man’s world–his relationship with his God and with the people in his life, his calling, the spiritual battle he’ll face–everyone one of them is fraught with mystery. But that’s not a bad thing; it is a joyful, rich part of reality and essential to our soul’s thirst for adventure.
You see, we’re fighting the wrong battle. Instead of fiercely battling our own discomfort, we should be fighting for adventure.
It’s not completely our fault. Since birth, we have been told “no” more than “yes”. We have been trained to follow a well-worn, safe, and clear path that includes school, career, marriage, children, and retirement.
Fight for Adventure
Even so, adventure is hard-wired in us, whether we recognize it or not. Adventure must be fought for. When we pursue our God-ordained adventures, we will be paddling upstream against the strong currents of culture, including many arenas of Christendom, urging us to put the oars back in the raft and drift comfortably back downstream.
One of our fights may include simply making time in our lives for pursuing the grand adventures God has instilled in each one of us. Many of us intrinsically know the adventures God has called us to, but they have laid dormant in our hearts of a number of years. Our first fight may include awakening those deadened parts of our hearts once again.
I don’t know what adventures God has placed in your heart, but I do know that they must be fought for and fought alongside a network of allies.
What adventures are you fighting for, and who are you taking into battle?