When I was a kid, my dad, siblings, and I loved playing a video game called Crash Bandicoot. Stick with me; I am a middle school minister, after all. It’s an adventure game where a fox-like (don’t come for me if I’m wrong) island hero tries to defeat an evil scientist named Doctor Neo Cortex. Naturally, he triumphs by jumping through a series of obstacles on a winding jungle path, collecting mangoes as fuel. Epic, right?
Each of us got a full life cycle—five tries—to get as far as we could before passing the remote to the next player. My first turn typically went something like this: grab the remote, spend three minutes trying to jump past the first obstacle, immediately lose all five lives by falling off a ledge, getting crushed by a rolling stone, or being blown up by strategically placed (yet very avoidable) dynamite boxes.
I recently played this game again for the first time in over a decade. Eerily similar patterns emerged. But this time, my dad pointed out something I hadn’t noticed before: with each round of five attempts, I gradually made it further and further. Each time, I tried my best to remember and follow the steps that had worked before.
As silly as it sounds, this little observation reminded me of my walk with the Lord.
I’m sure I’m not alone in starting the year with a few life-changing practices I wanted to implement—things like eating healthier, being more intentional with loved ones, and spending more time in Scripture.
All of these goals are good and valuable. Yet, like most years, I eventually find myself frustrated at my inability to be consistent. The obstacles of busy schedules and constant distractions seem impossible to overcome. It’s almost as if I’m unknowingly (or haphazardly) walking into boxes of dynamite.
But then God reminds me: I’m not a fox dodging jungle traps. I’m not a person trying to optimize my life through perfect routines and performance. I’m not even a Christian trying to memorize practical steps of obedience in order to gain a certain kind of life or prove myself worthy of God’s love.
I’m not running through a coded maze that requires me to remember where the pitfalls are.
I am, in fact, God’s child—made in His image. I’m walking through the world He created, gifted with the opportunity to reflect His glory. In the midst of it all, I hear my Father whisper, “Come with me. Let’s go further this time.”
Galatians 5 so clearly reminds us that the God of the Bible is not distant, waiting for us to fail so he can come in and clean up the mess just to leave us to our own devices again. He is the God who has always drawn near to His people—in a garden called Eden, in a tent called the tabernacle, in a building called the temple, in a man named Jesus of Nazareth, and now, by His Spirit housed in the very walls of all believers’ hearts.
And so I’m reminded: “Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit” (Galatians 5:25). When I remember this, I long to be a place where the Spirit of God delights to dwell. The Spirit of God takes up residence in His people, shaping each of us individually—and all of us collectively—to be what N.T. Wright calls “tiny working models” of the ultimate reality: God bringing Heaven and Earth together, so that we might dwell with Him forever.
And I so easily cut Him out of the inner dialogue. But what if I didn’t? What if I chose to take each step with the Spirit? What if I allowed God’s Spirit to rearrange my furniture? What if I asked Him to “see if there is any offensive way in me” (Psalm 139)? What if I let the sacrificial love of Jesus be my model for how I treat my co-workers, children, friends, employees? My best efforts at becoming a better me (i.e. my resolutions) pale in comparison to the richness of the life that God offers when I keep in step with the Spirit.
Will Crash Bandicoot ever defeat Doctor Neo Cortex? My video game skill convinces me that I will likely never know. But I do know that when I keep in step with the Spirit, the Lord is my shepherd and I have all that I need.
Contact Emilee
