Since my son was born, I have felt the incredible urge to try to create an environment where he could forego the kinds of things that I had to learn the hard way about through pain and disappointment. If I could only impart to him my wisdom, then he would not have to experience the same kinds of hurt I did as a child.

After the little bruiser learned to walk and run and climb, I caught myself making a mantra out of the words, "Be careful." New fathers gain this incredible sixth sense of being able to immediately see the worst-case scenario of how a child could be hurt in any and every situation. And so, like good fathers do, we set up boundaries and roadblocks, proverbial flashing barricade signs to keep our children away from danger. For many people, this quality seems responsible.

In the Christian community, we have developed another form of this overactive sixth sense. It is the ability to look at a situation and predict how we think it will affect our spiritual lives. It is a sense that we often confuse with conscience. It is a little voice that exposes the feeble vision of God we carry around with us.

The desire to know God, for the Gospel to be made real through life experience and to have a greater vision for the purposes of Christ in our culture have all been undercut by a vision of the Christian life that is not Christ-like at all. Safety has crept into the well-lived life and forced it back from the exhilarating heights and deep valleys that reflect the wild character of God and His unpredictable, redemptive landscape.

The new vision of a Christian life is one void of pain, suffering and tension. It is an existence well entrenched far away from the edge of doubt and questioning, fortressed high above immorality and the sinful nature. To describe this kind of life makes me think less of the Church and more of a padded room with no windows and doors, fit only for sleep or insanity. Is this life God intended?