Keep Calm and Read a Psalm 104:21-23:
“The young lions roar after their prey,
And seek their food from God.
When the sun rises, they gather together
And lie down in their dens.
Man goes out to his work
And to his labor until the evening.”
While in Tanzania these past five weeks, I got to experience a safari to Serengeti National Park—one of the most famous of game parks in East Africa. The place to experience what you experience in the African section of the zoo—minus the fences (and annoying kids). Cruising at cheetah-speeds over dirt paths in a safari vehicle, you jolt this way and that for any sign of wildlife. At the very beginning of the day, we pulled up a steep ravine to a collection of wild safari vehicles (“Hey, this isn’t wildlife—these are American tourists! But they do look funny”). Behind the line of vehicles was what everyone was looking at: Mr. Lion himself, basking in the mid-morning heat in the shade of an acacia tree (I think). He was massive, with a mane surrounding his stoic face like the rays of the Serengeti sun (sounds like the name of a rock band—“Hey, we’re Serengeti Sun and we’re gonna rock this house!” Anyway…).
I was most impressed by Mr. Lion. He just looked at us. And then looked away. And then slept. We turned our engines off and just basked in his glory. Snapping pictures faster than you could say, “For Aslan!” He was unperturbed. Two lionesses lay behind him in the grove—I hope they weren’t both his wives (who does he think he is—Solomon?). After awhile, he got up, revealing his immensity in all its brilliance and sauntered down the hill at the speed of a king walking down the aisle for coronation. And that’s what he was—truly, the King. He found another co-King down at the bottom (I assume the husband of the other lioness—are these guys bros? Mufasa and Scar? At any rate…) and just lay down again. Man, if we were hunters, these guys would be as dead as—er, actually, even if we were hunters, judging by the size of his paw, I think the only dead ones would be the dumb poachers (Don’t do poaching, kids—it’s stupid).
We saw several cubs that day, and they were the same way—unafraid. Without a care in the world. And those of us who call God Father can be the same way—bold as a lion. They knew their parents were nearby—parents who could rip a 2×4 in their jaws. Why in the world would they be afraid of silly American tourists flashing cameras? Yes, why would they even think about trembling in the face of the nozzle of an evil poacher? Out of the corner of their eye they can see Daddy Lion about to claw this guy into Kenya.
We have no reason to fear. Our Heavenly Father is King of the Pride Lands. He can never be thwarted or frustrated in His purposes. We can rest easy under an acacia tree and bask in His glory. Because we too, if we belong to Him, are at the top of the food chain. We are prince and princesses of Serengeti. “And who is he who will harm you if you become followers of what is good?” (1 Peter 3:13). And like Aslan, with one shake of His Mane, He can change the world.
-Matthew W., SC