Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?

We stood at the lemonade stand just outside the queue, watching as the empty coaster whizzed, looped, and plunged its way through the morning test run. My young niece and nephew were giddy with anticipation and ready to bolt to the entrance as soon as the ride opened. To a seasoned coaster aficionado like myself, The Big, Bad Wolf was only moderately thrilling, but for the 8-and-under set, it was a howling beast of high-flying excitement…or white-knuckled terror.

For my seven-year-old son, it was the latter, but I shrugged it off. He didn't share his cousins' enthusiasm for thrill rides, so he wasn't going to ride. End of story…or so I thought. My mom, who had been watching Zack eye the coaster, had detected something in his demeanor that I had missed. When she whispered to me that she was certain he was longing to ride, but was losing a battle with fear, I wasn't so sure. But Nana had a pretty good track record, so I pulled him aside to ask him myself.

As I talked with my son, the struggle within him was apparent. He desperately wanted to join in the fun and venture into uncharted "big kid" territory, but the path was guarded by a big, bad wolf. He sensed the potential for a "safe" adventure, but at the tender age of seven, he faltered in the face of this screaming steel behemoth.

I assured him that I would never make him ride, but if he wanted to, I'd be with him and help him get through it. He took a deep breath and nodded, so we bowed our heads right there at the lemonade stand and asked God to help Zack face his fear.

The wait was mercifully short, but despite my perky veneer and my niece's repeated assurance that it was going to be "sooooo awesome," the tension was almost unbearable as we approached the boarding area. I don't remember much about the ride that day, but I do remember the look on my young conqueror's face when we returned to the station. Offering up a silent prayer of thanks, I smiled as he leapt out of the car and bounded over to give his cousins high-fives.

After the cheers subsided, I asked him, "If you could go back in time and talk to yourself before the ride, what would you say?" With new-found confidence, he replied, "I'd say, 'Don't worry, Zack. It's a little bit fun and a little bit scary, but you're going to be okay.'"

Struck with the opportunity to apply a biblical lesson, I said, "You know, that's sort of what Jesus tells us in the Bible. We don't always know how things will turn out, and that can be scary. But Jesus knows the end of the story and has promised to go before us and prepare the way. Because of Him, we're going to be okay."

My words echoed back to me, and my satisfaction in maximizing this teachable moment quickly faded as I realized how often I had cowered before big, bad wolves of my own. How often I had tensed with apprehension as I headed up the next hill of uncertainty. How easily I had been shaken when life seemed to plunge out of control. How many times I had sensed God calling me to embark on an adventure, but recoiled when faced with the snarls of discouragement, pride, and fear of failure.

In the six years since Zack warily stepped into his first "big kid" ride, he's long-since surpassed me as a thrill seeker, and as I've continued to follow after the Father, I've learned to trust Him more. Still, life will always be a roller coaster ride of highs and lows, twists and turns, but I know the One who carefully planned my "track" and will never let me go. The longer I follow the Good Shepherd, the more I understand that I have nothing to fear from the big, bad wolves.

"I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me--just as the Father knows me and I know the Father--and I lay down my life for the sheep." -John 10:14-15