We humans love good stories. We like the entertainment value, we like how they stimulate our imagination, we like exciting plots and climaxes. But what makes a story especially significant to us is the meaning behind it. And every story means something no matter how lame it may seem on the surface.

Jesus knew this better than anyone—since He created our brains and our thinking processes. So when He wanted people to really get something, He usually put it in a story.

My story-telling abilities pale drastically in comparison to Jesus', but hopefully you can discern a few important truths about our walk with God's Spirit from "Field Guide to Getting Lost." But in case you'd like to read more about what I had in mind as I wrote it, following is a paragraph-by-paragraph commentary on the parable.

The trek began pleasantly. My pack was stuffed with every necessity, the sun was on my face, the wind at my back. Everyone told me I wouldn't need a map, and sure enough, the trail had been made wide and smooth by the footfalls of many predecessors.

Our Pilgrim's journey begins on a very pleasant note. For most of us, life becomes easier when we first receive Christ as our Savior. There is a honeymoon period where God is helping us to connect with the reality of His love, His presence and His help. Indeed, we do have everything we'll need to experience the abundant life of His kingdom (2 Peter 1:3). For a new Christian, the world often seems a moonlit cruise on calm seas. We don't anticipate any changes, and "everyone" (popular but naïve opinions about how the Kingdom of God is supposed to work) describes this worry-free state as normal.

But is it? Doesn't the Apostle Paul talk about how he is "afflicted in everyway...perplexed... persecuted...forsaken" (2 Corinthians 4:8,9)? We assume a wide, smooth trail always indicates God's endorsement, but does it? See what Jesus says about this in Matthew 7:13,14. What misconceptions about the Christian life does our Pilgrim need for the Spirit to correct?

Suddenly, there he was—walking along beside me as if he belonged there. I'm not sure where he came from, but something about him seemed familiar and comfortable. So we talked as we walked. He said his name was Hank.

The Spirit enters your life the instant you begin your journey as a Christian—and He does belong there just as surely as your heart and lungs do. He's the great Comforter you've been missing all your life (John 14:26)—whether you knew it or not. He will talk with you through His Word and in your heart, and He will be your constant companion wherever you roam. In the story I named Him Hank—don't ask me why. But the Spirit of God takes the initiative with you right from the beginning. He already knows you intimately—every cell, every genetic trait, every response pattern, every preference, strength and weakness. But now He wants you to know Him. That's an eternal process—but we might as well get started!

"Where are you heading?" Hank asked.

God's Spirit already knows where you're headed—as did Hank. But He will often ask us questions just to make sure we know! It also opens up a dialog between us.

"Over the divide to Abundance," I answered. "How about you?"

Abundance is what we want, and abundance is what God wants for us too. Jesus said in John 10:10—"I came that you might have life, and that you might have it in all its abundance." Unfortunately, we often have strange ideas about how we will arrive at that abundance. Drugs, alcohol, sex, materialism, power—these are the things that the world, our flesh and the devil offer as conveyances. But they never get us there. They're like broken GPS systems, leading us into the worst part of town.

"Same place. Would you like a guide? I've been that way many times before."

Hank knows the way. The Spirit of Jesus is the way. Jesus said in John 16:13 (The Message)—"But when the Friend comes, the Spirit of the Truth, He will take you by the hand and guide you into all the truth there is." There are three main reasons why the Holy Spirit wants to be your guide to Abundance: He loves you with a perfect love, He knows the path that you need to take (since that's where He lives), and He wants to make sure you get there.

I was a little taken aback, not expecting an entrepreneur out here in the wilderness. "No thanks. I can't afford you. Besides, everyone says it's a pretty easy trip."

There is a cost to following God. But we make a mistake when we think it costs too much. Compared to what we're receiving, it's quite inexpensive! In fact, our ticket to begin the journey is free. The only thing it costs us is coinage that we actually have a-plenty: time, our willingness to go with him, our love, our worship, our obedience—things we're going to spend anyway, so why not spend it on Him? And it's not really "spent" anyway—it's invested. He returns it to us many times over. He's the greatest asset manager of all time!

But here comes "Everyone" again. To follow God is a piece of cake, right? Everyone says so, but it isn't true. In fact, as Bill Bright, founder of Campus Crusade for Christ, used to say, "It's not hard to live the Christian life. It's impossible! That is, without the help of the Holy Spirit." One of the big disillusionments of the Christian life occurs when a person thinks, "Since I've got God on my side, life will be a bowl of cherries from here on out." And then he or she bumps into real life. God never said we wouldn't have problems. In fact, He promised just the opposite. "In the world you shall have tribulation," but He doesn't leave us there. "But take courage, I have overcome the world" (John 16:33). It's not easy, but He'll guide us and help us along the way.

"Oh, no charge for you. It's a free service I provide for all visitors here. And I hate to contradict 'everyone,' but there are a number of tricky spots along the way. And mountain lions."

As was mentioned before—His companionship and our ticket for the journey is free. But it's not going to be an easy trek. In fact, it could be deadly. God's Word tells us that "Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8). God knows—and we should too—that Satan's objective is not to bum us out, make us feel bad, get us depressed or lead us into sin. His objective is to devour us! It would be extremely wise to be accompanied by someone who knows every square inch of the trail, all of the dangers, and how to counter each one.

I couldn't argue with the price. I liked his deep, soothing voice, his confident air, and—after that crack about the mountain lions—I really liked the .44 Magnum revolver on his hip. So I agreed.

He spoke to me of many things as the trail began to steepen: map-reading, fire-building, first-aid, making an emergency shelter in a storm, recognizing edible plants. I absorbed his tutelage like a sponge, and became increasingly happy that I'd agreed to his companionship.

The Holy Spirit is our Guide, but He's also our Teacher. Jesus said of Him in John 14:26—"But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said to you." And we're not talking about mere "book-learnin'" here, either. Literary study is very important to lay the foundation of God's truth about life in His kingdom, but you'll also receive a lot of on-the-job training. As you're walking in the wilderness, as the trail gets steep, as you are beginning to face the difficulties of life, He will be there with the tap of His knowledge wide open. The more you learn, the happier you'll be. "Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls" (Matthew 11:29).

But that feeling didn't last. We came to a place where a narrow track sliced off to the right, while the main one went straight. "Turn right here," Hank intoned.

Life will present us with thousands of forked roads, intersections and alternate pathways as we travel. How can we know which ones to take, and which ones to pass? If we're willing to listen, God's Spirit is eager to help us make the right choices. Proverbs 3:5,6 says, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not to your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths." He's been there, remember? He knows the way. Trust His direction.

It was the first time I had doubts about my new friend. The side trail was rocky and rose steeply. The main trail looked so much easier. Besides, someone had put a sign right there, saying that Abundance was straight ahead—not to the right. It made me wonder what Hank was up to. Maybe he didn't have my best interests in mind after all.

Do God's directions always have to make sense? His mind is infinite. He knows every possible alternative, and what's best for us. We arrogant humans usually assume that God's ways will be logical and obviously in line with what we would choose for ourselves. But God says, "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:9.) I always have a hard time explaining to my cat that the trip to the vet will be for her own good. She never believes me. Throughout the process, and even for hours after we return home, she is convinced of my malice, and punishes me for my betrayal. But I'll do it anyway because despite everything, I really like that cat, and I know what's best for her. God will always direct us the best way—even if it doesn't always seem like it.

"Everyone" is at work again. The world, the flesh and the devil will constantly countermand God's direction and make their way seem best. Eugene Peterson wrote, "Every temptation is disguised as a suggestion for improvement." It will often seem logical, prudent and advantageous to go a direction other than the way God's Spirit directs. But it will always lead you away from where you really want to go.

Hank and I had no small disagreement at that point. But I was gratified by how quickly he threw in the towel. This convinced me that I had been right all along—and that I should keep a wary eye on Hank.

One of the fantastic things about how God governs in the affairs of men is that He has given us free will. He will show us the right way, but He won't drive us that way like a drover would a herd of cattle. He'll let us make a choice. He does this because choice is at the foundation of love. God did not create a race of puppets who would do His bidding whenever He pulls the right string. He loves us with pure love, and deeply desires for that love to be reciprocated—but only if we have the choice not to love Him can we truly love Him from our hearts. Love cannot be coerced. When we decide to ignore His direction, He won't throw lightning bolts at us—He'll give us space. Unfortunately, we will often misconstrue this lack of resistance from God as sanction of our choice. We'll think we won the argument, but we lost the battle. Enough of those and we could lose the war.

"You know, you don't have to stay with me," I said to Hank after awhile of not speaking. "You can go back and take that other way if you want."

It's a dangerous time when we think we can get along just fine without God's Spirit. Occasionally we'll come to a point where we don't think His suggestions are all that great. Maybe we followed them and there weren't any skyrockets or lottery wins. Or we didn't follow them and there didn't seem to be any negative consequences. We wrongly conclude that God is inconsequential, so we become indifferent about Him. When a person says, "You go your way and I'll go mine" to God, we're stepping out onto very thin ice. Think about it for a minute. In what ways have you said that to God in the past?

He didn't hesitate. "No, I'll stick with you. I know you aren't ready to believe me, but you're going to be in danger soon. You'll need my help."

The Bible says in 2 Timothy 2:13 "If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself." How fortunate we are that when we try to shoo God away, He backs off only a little. He loves us too much to abandon us—He just can't say no to His own desire to nurture and care for us. He knows we'll need Him, and He will continue to walk with us, even when we walk away from Him.

The nerve! As if I couldn't take care of myself. I was offended by his paternalistic attitude and lack of confidence in me. "Suit yourself," I sniffed.

"I am the Captain of my soul!" We love to assert it. We love to declare our independence from everyone and everything—even God. "We will not have this man to reign over us!" (Luke 19:14). Like my daughter's frequent pronouncement when she was three years old: "I can do it! I can do it!" Even when I knew for certain she couldn't. Little girls simply can't drive cars on the freeway. In our childish arrogance and misplaced self-confidence, we show how truly foolish we are.

Over the next several hours, clouds began to gather above us and the trail kept bending eastward and down, rather than northward and up, where we were supposed to be going. Truth is, I was beginning to worry. But I'd never admit that to Hank. The last thing I wanted from him was an "I told you so."

Eventually, we're all going to figure out that we aren't as adept at captaining our souls as we first thought. Our plans begin to go sideways, our destination starts fading back, and we get this clammy, prickly feeling that maybe we made the wrong choice earlier. Nevertheless, until we hit the brick wall, tumble down the canyon or get swept away by the flood, our pride will make us hold our course as long as possible—in the hope that we really were right all along. How desperately we want to be right! God knows this, but He will hold His course of non-coercion indefinitely. We made our bed, and He will let us lie in it. Our choices have consequences that He will not automatically annul simply because He loves us.

So on we trudged. The wind stiffened, the temperature dropped, and it got darker. The rain started and the trail—so flat and lovely moments before—turned into a muddy mess. Before long my boots became thick with the gooey stuff. Every step became an effort.

Isn't it amazing that Hank would stick with our Pilgrim even when conditions began to deteriorate so dreadfully? You'd think he'd turn back and leave this fool to himself. But not Hank. Not our God. He's been through the worst conditions any human has ever endured—as a human—and He doesn't want us to have to go through them alone. He'll trudge on with us, no matter what. In Hebrews 13:5 Jesus uses the strongest Greek terms possible to underscore His pronouncement—a triple negative—when He tells us how constant His presence will be. A literal translation would be: "I will not, I will not, I will not in any degree leave you helpless nor forsake you, nor let you down or relax my hold on you!" (Amplified Bible).

"I have a suggestion," Hank started.

"Well, keep it to yourself," I growled. I knew what he was going to say. Something along the lines of Let's stop here till the storm's over, or We should go back. I wasn't going to let him slow my progress!

And another amazing thing surfaces! That we would ignore God's advice even when we know He's right! Our pride is one of the strongest forces in our lives—which is why the Bible warns us about it from Genesis to Revelation. "Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall" God says in Proverbs 16:18. Our pride blinds us to God's wisdom and rivets us to our petty, earth-bound goals.

But it began to occur to me: was this progress? Could Hank be right about this trail? Was I lost? Naah! I did my best to dismiss those thoughts immediately. Everybody said this was the way. I had read books about backpacking, and had purchased all the latest equipment. I was young, strong and smart. And I hadn't seen one cat track all day. Hank was just an over-protective, control freak trying to put me under his thumb and squelch my enjoyment.

The wisest among us will occasionally contemplate what success our choices have achieved. And if they're truly wise they'll turn around and head back the other way if they see the path petering out. But if that doesn't happen, we'll fall back on our self-effort and our limited discernment to make grand assessments concerning our status and our prospects.

It was at that moment that a bolt of lightning illuminated the mountain lion on the overhang to my left, crouched and ready to spring. "Hank!" I screamed above the wind. "Help me!" Instantly, Hank's big Magnum was in his hand. It boomed and spat fire, and my would-be killer fell dead at my feet.

"Let him who thinks he stands take heed that he does not fall" (1 Corinthians 10:12). It's when we feel the most bullet-proof that Satan will attack. Our pride makes us vulnerable—it gives him a doorway to burst through, his knife in his hand, his steely eyes focused on our jugular. Remember: his goal is murder—physical, spiritual, emotional, mental, any way he can find it. But the Spirit of God is only waiting for a word to spring to our defense. He won't hesitate, and he won't spare our adversary. "Submit yourself therefore unto God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God and he will draw near to you" (James 4:7,8). When you acknowledge God's claim on your life, and resist the actions of your enemy—even just a little—God springs into action on your behalf. And Satan is no match for our Father's big Magnum. "Greater is He that is in you than he that is in the world" (1 John 4:4b).

Every resentful thought I'd had toward Hank dissolved in one second, and I felt sorry for each one. And in a flood of words, I told him so, too. I didn't care how many "I told you so's" he wanted to throw my way, I deserved them. But none came.

Threat has a tendency to clear a man's mind. When we've had a close brush with the roaring lion and survived it, it's remarkable how clearly we see the absolute truth that surrounds us. The veil is lifted from our eyes, and we recognize our Savior. This makes us feel great gratitude, but great humiliation as well, because we didn't recognize Him earlier. But when we are confronted with the saving presence of God, it leads us to right-thinking and confession. Our humiliation leads to humility, and we brace for our punishment. However, God takes no delight in our mistakes. He doesn't rub our noses in them, nor gloat over His vindication. He loves us, and only desires our healing and a restored relationship with Him.

"You don't want to keep going this way, do you?" Hank asked with the gentleness of a father, as he reholstered his gun.

Even now our Father doesn't violate our free will. Even now He appeals gently to our hearts and asks us to make a choice. Do we still want to occupy the throne of our lives, or are we ready to abdicate, and once again crown Him as King? He knows that in our heart of hearts we desire His rule. He'll never seize our throne, but He will frequently ask if we'd like to give it to Him. Again.

"No," I sighed with resignation. "In fact, I've known for quite some time that this path was leading the wrong way, but I was too proud and stubborn to admit it. I didn't believe what you said about the danger—figured I knew better." I looked at the dead lion. "I have a very different opinion now."

Confession is good for the soul. As we give God access to our heart, He cleanses it whiter than snow; once again we hear joy and gladness; the bones He broke rejoice; He restores the joy of our salvation and renews a right spirit within us (Psalm 51:7-12). Sure smells like Abundance!

Hank smiled. "Good! I want you to know that I'm not being over-protective, nor am I a control freak. I want you to be able to enjoy this journey to the fullest. And that includes getting you there in one piece—if you'll let me."

Just as Hank knew about the Pilgrim's opinion of him as an over-protective control freak, The Spirit knows our thoughts even before we think them—and still loves us! There is nothing we can think, say or do that will surprise God. He's seen it all. He knows us through-and-through. And none of this dampens His eternal love for us. If He does restrict us in any way, it's like what a guard rail accomplishes for an out-of-control car. Sparks fly and there may be a few scrapes and dents, but we avoid the abyss. And that's always a good thing!

For a moment, I thought he had read my mind—and maybe he had. I kicked my useless pride aside, shouldered my soggy pack, and said, "If you can forgive me for my bull-headedness, I'm ready to follow you now."

"Apology accepted," Hank said with wink. "Let's get back to that trail to Abundance."

We don't have to defend or explain our sins. We don't have to state all the rational reasons why we foolishly engaged in them. We don't have to try to fix or pay for what we broke (well, in the physical world we do, but before God, Jesus has already taken care of the bill). All He asks is that we admit we did them. "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us of all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9). Repentance and confession makes us justified before God. After that, it's "just-as-if-I'd" never sinned. The barrier we had erected between us and God is down, His Spirit is no longer quenched and He's ready to resume the journey with us right where we'd left off.

This episode with our friend the Pilgrim is only one of several hundred he is scheduled to encounter. You would think that he (and we) would learn to trust our Guide after such a dramatic experience. But we are such forgetful pilgrims. Our fallen natures drive us to think of new reasons why we should not listen to the Spirit, and re-take the throne instead. We'll succeed at this many times. And our patient, loving Father will continue to walk with us, and respond to our weaknesses with His strength. The hope is that these episodes will happen less frequently over time. As we grown in wisdom and spiritual maturity, and as we are slowly-but-surely transformed into the image of Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 3:18), we will experience a more consistent, stable walk with Him. We will continue to have trouble in this world (John 16:33), but the troubles will be overcome more quickly and with less consequences as we abide in Him.