There’s a story in the Old Testament we’ve probably all heard before as kids. A destitute widow and her two sons had no money to pay off their debts, and creditors were about to come take possession of her sons and put them to work as slaves. Desperate, she came to Elisha, a prophet of God, and asked him for help.
If you haven’t heard the story before, the text is down below. What I’d like to highlight is the way God allows the widow to choose the magnitude of response. At least in this case, when God chose to intervene in the widow’s life, He essentially wrote her a blank check. The catch is that His answer hinged on how far she was willing to go in her obedience to Him.
The level of the widow’s obedience in this case directly affected the degree of the Lord’s response. In a sense, she got to choose the extent of her own blessing. Elisha told her to collect lots of empty jars from neighbors and friends, then fill them all from the single jar of oil she still had at home. She could have very well rolled her eyes and said “yeah, okay” when Elisha told her what to do. “Sure, I’ve got two or three empty jars at home; I think I’ll just use them and not bother any of the neighbors.” Imagine how disappointed she would have been if that’s all she did. The text doesn’t actually say how fervently she went from house to house looking for additional empty jars, but she probably would’ve tried a little harder if she knew for a fact what was going to take place, don’t you think?
Someday you and the Lord are going to look back on your life to take a look at just how closely you obeyed His commands and calling. He’s going to reward you based on what He sees (Matt. 16:27, Rev. 22:12). With this in mind, will you be satisfied with the level of dedication you’re currently using to serve God, or will you wish you had put in the extra effort to find a few more empty jars?
2 Kings 4:1-7
4 A certain woman of the wives of the sons of the prophets cried out to Elisha, saying, “Your servant my husband is dead, and you know that your servant feared the Lord. And the creditor is coming to take my two sons to be his slaves.”
2 So Elisha said to her, “What shall I do for you? Tell me, what do you have in the house?” And she said, “Your maidservant has nothing in the house but a jar of oil.”
3 Then he said, “Go, borrow vessels from everywhere, from all your neighbors—empty vessels; do not gather just a few. 4 And when you have come in, you shall shut the door behind you and your sons; then pour it into all those vessels, and set aside the full ones.”
5 So she went from him and shut the door behind her and her sons, who brought the vessels to her; and she poured it out. 6 Now it came to pass, when the vessels were full, that she said to her son, “Bring me another vessel.”
And he said to her, “There is not another vessel.” So the oil ceased. 7 Then she came and told the man of God. And he said, “Go, sell the oil and pay your debt; and you and your sons live on the rest.”
My family was recently driving along when we encountered a dangerous situation. We passed through an intersection just as a four-car accident occurred. We weren’t involved, thankfully, but it’s not often you’re so close as something so serious happens.
Without getting into drawing pictures, there were two cars waiting in the turn lane to turn right, when a third car came up behind them and slammed into one of the cars. There was a screech of brakes right before it happened, but the car was going pretty fast, and still hit the car in front of it probably between 20 and 30 mph. The car that got hit had its back end picked up and tossed, and the offending vehicle spun a bit too, and ended up striking a car in the next lane. The vehicle that got hit hard struck the vehicle in front of it. This all happened as our family was approaching the intersection from the opposite direction, turning left and driving directly in front of where all the cars were pointing; those lanes of traffic were at a red light as our family crossed in front of them.
We were in a position to quickly get to each of the vehicles, so we stopped and my wife and I got out; we were the first people on the scene who were not involved in the mishap. Two of the cars’ occupants were totally fine (and one of them was already talking with 911 and checking on the people in the other cars). The guy in the offending vehicle seemed okay, but he was kind of acting in ways that didn’t make sense, like he was disoriented. I don’t know if that had any bearing on his failure to slow down in time, but by the time I got close to him he had been through an impact, the car’s airbags had gone off, and the car was facing a different direction than when he last had control of it, so that could have altered his mental state.
The last vehicle, the one who got hit hard from behind, had a driver inside who was hurting pretty bad. He stayed inside the car for awhile, writhing in pain. The guy on the phone with 911 was in there with him. The hurt dude stayed in his seat for a bit, but eventually decided to get out of the car. I should have tried to get him to stay in the vehicle. He struggled to stand on his own, so I helped him over to the grass, where he laid down and rolled around on the ground, his back and neck in serious pain. Thankfully it didn’t take long for fire, police, and ambulance to arrive on the scene. I have no idea what became of any of those folks, but that one guy’s going to be hurting for a long time, and may never walk without pain again.
This isn’t my first run-in with situations requiring emergency services. I can’t tell you why, but God has inserted me in a number of crisis situations where somebody called 911. I’ve already written about several of them (bakery blackout, swing swim, father-in-law fiasco, and highway hazard), and there’s at least one or two more I haven’t posted. Sometimes I’m the first person to arrive, other times I’m just another person able to be there to lend a hand. I haven’t been certified in any kind of CPR or first aid for about 20 years. I’m just an ordinary guy. Why does God keep steering me toward these predicaments? I have no idea. I can ask Him one day, but for now I just roll with it.
I wasn’t really sure which direction to take this post. I just wanted to write about an out-of-the-norm event that happened, but I’ll add some observations for you in the event you find yourself in a similar situation, where you might be able to help somebody’s bad day from being worse.
First and foremost, if you arrive on the scene of an emergency situation, make sure somebody has called 911. In scenarios where seconds count, minutes can seem like an eternity, so ensure those wheels have been set in motion. If you’re the one that calls 911, tell them your location and what kind of services you need so they can get the right people moving your way, and then fill in the details. Secondly, make sure you’re not going to make the situation worse by inserting yourself into it. It’s one thing to deal with an acceptable level of risk, but it’s another to recklessly complicate the situation for the trained responders. Only step in if you’re going to make things better. When first responders arrive, get out of their way.
In talking to other people who deal with a lot of emergency situations, I certainly haven’t seen it all, and there’s a lot I haven’t had to deal with. I have, however, noticed that there are a few reactions people commonly have when you show up at a time of great uncertainty. Here are a few I’ve noticed.
Some people are glad they’re no longer alone in facing their crisis. While it’s certainly nice if you know what you’re doing, sometimes they’re just so glad not to be alone that they don’t really care how helpful you can be. A little human warmth and compassion is a powerful force in shaping these folks’ outlook, so if there’s no immediate danger, that may be your best bet.
Other times people are so keyed up and full of adrenaline, they start doing something just for the sake of keeping busy, even if it doesn’t make sense. I’m sure EMTs can tell plenty of stories about showing up at someone’s house to see someone laying on the floor having a major problem while someone else in the house is organizing spices or sorting papers or something. You can help the situation by providing structure during times like these. If they’re obsessing in a way that’s counterproductive or that’s going to get in the way, give them a job that removes them from the picture. “Call 911 and tell them you need an ambulance at (insert address/location).” “Go wait for the ambulance and guide them in here.” “Go make sure the kids are okay and they don’t wander off.” “Help with crowd control.” “Write down a list of medications this person’s on.” Pointing someone in a purposeful direction by giving them something useful to do can make a difference when time is a factor.
Confusion and/or disorientation. Harrowing ordeals have a way of disrupting your brain’s ability to think rationally. Peoples’ threshold for this varies widely; you’d be surprised at how easily this can occur. On the flip side, sometimes you meet people that don’t seem fazed by anything. Regardless of what type they are, just try to make sure they’re safe and keep them from wandering off until first responders arrive.
The emotional and mental processing start to resolve themselves. You can often see people start to become overwhelmed when they realize what almost happened. They may be totally safe after a near-miss, but the adrenaline kicks in and there’s nothing for it to help with, so peoples’ muscles start trembling or they need to pace. You can talk in soothing tones and all that, but the adrenaline just needs to get burned off. It gets awkward sometimes. They’ll usually be pretty tired when it’s over.
Recounting what happened. I’ve seen and done lots of high-risk stuff, so I understand the desire to tell someone all about what took place. Not everyone realizes it should wait until after everybody involved is medically stable, though. Subtle hints usually don’t work during times like this, so you might need to be a little direct in telling people to pipe down while you focus on more important things.
Well hopefully you’ll never need to call 911 or encounter an emergency situation, but if you do, remember these things: Make sure help’s on the way first. Then make sure it’s safe for you to enter the scene. After that, use your best judgment on how to make the most serious thing less serious. Finally, help in whatever way seems best, but make sure you’re not getting in the way when the professionals arrive.
Lord, we live in a broken world, and sometimes that fact becomes painfully obvious. If you call upon any of us to take part in any sort of crisis situation, please give us clarity of thought, excellent judgment, and supernatural wisdom to recognize what actions we should and should not take. Let us be your hands and feet, along with a ray of hope, to someone whose day just took a turn for the worse. I ask in Your name, amen.
A couple years ago I wrote about an earlier time when two of my kids played tee ball. Man, if you’re competitive when it comes to sports, or you generally enjoy competence, you probably want to stay away from watching tee-ball games.
These days my two kids who were in tee ball are about 10 years older than when they played the sport. My son is old enough to get a job now, and this past weekend I went with him and my younger daughter to a little league complex so he could earn some cash on opening day.
We dropped him off so he could do his thing, and my daughter and I headed into the bleachers to kill some time watching a tee-ball game while we waited. (If you decide to read my previous tee-ball post, this is the same daughter who got antsy in the stroller and I took her walking around during the games.)
When I had kids playing in a tee-ball game, it was a disaster. The kids kinda had fun, but it was hard for me to watch for some reason. This time around was different, though. The game was still a disaster for sure, but it was much more fun to watch. My daughter and I had a good time being spectators.
The second baseman still stood around picking his nose. The whole team still swarmed to (and sometimes fought over) the ball anytime there was a hit. There were still sometimes two runners on the same base. For the kids, the highlight of the experience was still having team snacks after the game.
Why the difference in perspective? I think maybe it’s because none of my kids were out there, looking like they couldn’t find their way out of a wet paper bag. I can only surmise the first time around was so frustrating for me because my kids’ team couldn’t function, but this time was a hoot because I wasn’t invested in either team and I was able to just watch and enjoy the chaos. My daughter and I sat in the bleachers, laughing at the cuteness and abject comedy on display out on the field. They were a funny bunch, and they didn’t care that they didn’t know what a good play looked like.
In your life, have you walked away from serving God in the past because it was somehow too aggravating or frustrating for you to be a part of? Maybe it’s time to give it another shot. Just because it was hard for you back then doesn’t mean it’s going to be the same today. If it is, maybe now you’re better equipped to handle it. Try doing a little reintroduction to using your gifts for God’s glory. He gave you this talent for a reason; you might find this time around is much different.
I’m at the age now where I’m too old to do all the things I used to be able to do, but I’m not old enough to realize I should sometimes skip the attempt. I think it’s safe to say it’s a little late for me to start thinking about a career as a professional athlete.
The kids are getting quicker and I’m getting slower. Injuries and sore muscles take longer to overcome. I rest a little longer between sets when working out. I could push through the pain, but these days I put a lot more thought into whether or not that’s a good idea. It feels like every year gets a little shorter than the last one. In my mind I’m still in my mid-twenties, but the aches and stiffness in my joints tell a very different story. I blinked and it’s twenty years later.
I share this because I want to emphasize to you the idea that our time here is short. For our lives to have an eternal impact, we have to be doing productive things in the here and now, and the here and now is quickly passing us by. That means our time is precious and should be filled with purpose. Here on Earth, we’ve only got one lifetime to make a difference for those not currently headed to Heaven. Eternity hangs in the balance, and the stakes are the highest they could possibly be.
Got time for two and a half minutes of Christian motivation? Here’s one of my favorite quotes from this clip I hope you check out. “My life is too valuable, my calling too great, my God too good, to waste my life on things that do not last.”
Time is short. Live with a sense of urgency and intentionality. You have ONE life during which to make an eternal impact.
If you’re a long-time reader, you may know there’ve been times in my life where God’s been very gracious in assigning me guardian angels that were really on the ball.
In high school I got into rappelling. It was lots of fun, and I looked for different places and opportunities to do it. I got to zip down the elevator shaft of a building under construction, repeatedly jump off an old antenna tower, and even descend onto a stage in front of a live audience while upside-down a couple of times.
One of the first times I volunteered to use this “talent” for something other than myself was for a video advertisement for a youth group fundraiser we were hosting at our church. I worked with a guy that agreed to film it, and we went to a multi-purpose room/auditorium nearby to make the ad. The place had a drop ceiling with those Styrofoam-like tiles, and I was going to pop down out of it, look around, and say something like “hey, anyone know where the spaghetti dinner is?” (I think the premise was that if it had something cool like rappelling, it didn’t need to make any sense.)
I’m pretty sure at that point I hadn’t yet done anything complex when it came to rappelling. It was mostly out of trees or off something pretty straightforward. Here I had to climb up into the drop ceiling, hunch over and scoot along the wooden planks and steel trusses in a crawlspace that was probably only about 3 feet high while dragging my gear along, then crouch uncomfortably and try to avoid muscle spasms while I set the anchors and figured out how to safely fall through a two-foot by two-foot opening when my rappelling profile was much larger than two feet.
I didn’t really think about it much at the time, but it turns out this was remarkably dangerous, especially for someone so inexperienced. If my present-day self could communicate with my then-self, there’d likely be some yelling about the bone-headed, unnecessarily risky nature of it all. I was probably 15 or 16, clambering along the framework of the roof probably 25-30 feet above a concrete floor. I’d seen the floor view of the drop ceiling lots of times before, but it was all dark and dusty up above, and the tiles hid the fact that it was a long way down. Up in the ceiling there were very few safe places to stop and rest; if a foot or hand slipped and I fell, those thin little tiles were nowhere near strong enough to catch me. While scooting out to where I wanted to be, I couldn’t see the danger, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.
The fact that I couldn’t see the floor way down below helped mask just how dangerous the situation was. It was still crazy unsafe (even foolish) for me to do what I was doing, but since the drop ceiling was only a foot or two beneath my feet, it made me feel more comfortable than I should have. I was hunched over or crouched for extended periods, sweat beading up on my forehead, with no safety attachments as I scrambled along. If the ceiling had been open and I had seen how high I was, in addition to the struggles I was dealing with, I probably would have had the good sense to say “ehhhh, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
Being ignorant of danger doesn’t make us any safer. I wonder how many of us are dealing with very dangerous things, either knowingly or unknowingly, that could have a serious impact on our spiritual lives, the relationships we hold dear, or some other aspect of our lives. Maybe there’s something you’re doing that “isn’t going to hurt anybody,” or “isn’t as bad as the thing what’s-her-name is doing,” but you know it’s not something the Lord would approve of. I pray you’d see and become fully aware of the danger it poses (whether spiritually, physically, or otherwise), and have the good sense you need to make the right choice about continuing to engage in such things.
Lord, we all have blind spots in our lives. I ask that You’d highlight the things we’re doing or not doing in our lives which we should re-evaluate, and please give us the sense to make choices removing us from danger we would have otherwise brought on ourselves. These things I ask in Your name, Amen.
My kids are old enough that at this point they’ve all played instruments in the school band/orchestra. While I have to admit the concerts during those early years can make the audience cringe from time to time, it’s much more enjoyable to attend concerts after those musicians gain a few years of experience. A couple of my kiddos have done well enough with their music to make the cut into groups requiring an audition, and those concerts are the fun ones to attend.
Maybe you’ve had kids (or a sibling) in some kind of concert band/orchestra; as a concert draws near, you hear them at home rehearsing the same parts over and over. They get smoother with time, but you still only hear the same parts repeated time and again. This goes on and on until the concert finally arrives.
Before the concert begins it’s common to hear the musicians warming up on stage. At first it’s the sound of a weird, jumbled mess of all kinds of different instruments doing their own thing according to their own timing. It’s certainly not a polished sound. The conductor or other music teacher is usually running around, helping students do last-minute tunings. Then, as the warm-up nears its end, the conductor takes the podium and has each section play a few different notes. It’s interesting to me how the conductor can detect an instrument out there somewhere that’s not tuned correctly, and he or she will have the different students of that section play, one at a time, until they’ve found the errant instrument and made adjustments.
Finally, after introductions, the conductor once again takes the podium and indicates to the musicians to prepare to play. The conductor is usually the most interesting person to watch. I’ve seen a number of them in the concerts my kids have been a part of. Sometimes they’re energetic, other times not so much. Some are very straight-laced, and others have a little more flair. They’re all very talented, and they try to coax excellence out of their musicians.
Depending on the size of the group of students, the conductor has a lot to keep an eye on. The kids all have different energy levels for a concert. Some are calm beyond their years. Others have nervous energy that leaks out in the form of a foot that doesn’t stop tapping, a knee that doesn’t stop bouncing, or a head that doesn’t stop bobbing or swaying. The conductor has to manage the enthusiasm of the entire body. Many times the energy accompanying the excitement of the evening nearly boils over, and the pace or volume needs to be reigned in a little bit. Later in the concert, maybe in a section where one of the students wasn’t able to show up for the concert, the others in that section need to come up with a little more than they otherwise would have. It’s fun to see when the conductor points to a section and beckons them silently, but urgently, as if to say “c’mon, I need more from you!” As the piece builds and builds, it gets to the point the conductor has been waiting for, where their arms flail about and they nod their head emphatically as if to say “now!”
Part of the real enjoyment of a concert is the fact that all these musicians are contributing to something larger than themselves. Those parts my kids have been practicing over and over are definitely audible, but I also hear plenty of parts from other instruments I haven’t been hearing at home. Those parts are stitched together to produce something none of the individual instruments could have produced on their own. At some point in a good concert I’m just kind of overcome with awe: “This is how it’s supposed to be. Everyone’s doing something different, but they’re all working together toward a common goal.”
It’s a beautiful metaphor for the body of Christ. Even though we might possess similar gifts as others and might be grouped into sections, we still play a variety of instruments. Some are gifted at evangelism while others excel at teaching. Certain people have the gift of helps, or hospitality, or exhortation; others possess talents like administration, leadership, or compassion. Even the odd instruments that don’t have an appealing sound (like the slapper or the clunky bells with a tinny sound) contribute beneficially to the piece. They often punctuate the music in a memorable way. Yep, we have lots of those folks in the body of Christ, and I’m thankful for them!
Through all of this, the most important thing is to keep your eyes on the conductor. It’s easy to get distracted by the person next to you, or getting too far ahead of yourself thinking about the difficult part coming up, or even having your timing thrown off. Watching the conductor keeps you grounded and dealing only with the here and now, it keeps you on the right beat, and it tells you when to start and when to stop. Don’t lose sight of the one who can see everybody and who’s holding everything together. Follow the conductor’s lead and you’ll contribute something beautiful to something larger than yourself.
Remember assemblies in elementary school? It was always fun to show up for those. One time when I was probably in third or fourth grade they had us all come in and sit down cross-legged on the floor. I don’t remember what this particular assembly was about, but part of the way through, the side door suddenly opened, and some huge dude in a basketball uniform exploded into the auditorium, dribbled the ball a few times, and laid the ball into the nearby hoop while just about touching the rim.
I think this guy was a student at our high school down the road. I don’t remember much else about this assembly; I think he was an all-star or someone who was getting a pretty big scholarship to a college somewhere. If I saw this happen today, I probably wouldn’t be too impressed. But when you’re like, four feet tall, sitting on the floor, and some high schooler bursts in and does what he did, it leaves you in awe. We all ended up standing in line to get the guy’s autograph.
Maybe he eventually made it to the big leagues; maybe he peaked in high school. I’ve got no way of knowing. For all I know, his autograph is still stashed away in some box in my attic. I’ve got no idea what happened to that guy, or even who he was.
It’s a little sad, but even most people in your family are more or less forgotten after two or three generations. Sure, you can trace back to them in your family tree, but unless you interacted with them and have memories of them it gets tough to feel like you really knew them.
This life is very brief. James 4:14 says “Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.” Our lives (especially the glory of youth) are fleeting. Want to be a part of something that truly lasts? Participate in building the Lord’s kingdom. Use the spiritual gifts you’ve been given. You’ve been entrusted with time, talents, and treasure; seek the Lord’s will for how He wants you to put them to good use working for Him. If you jump in, you’ll be part of something that doesn’t fade with time.
If you’re a regular reader, you know my view that God’s got a plan for your life. There is, however, a flip side. If the Bible is true and everything it says is correct, there’s not only a good guy, there’s also a bad guy in this story.
We know God’s all-powerful. We know Satan’s not. So how does Satan fight God? Satan uses us…humans…as both leverage and collateral damage not as a way of fighting or manipulating God, but as a means of hurting Him. Think about it; Satan knows the power of what Christ did on the cross. He knows his days of freedom are numbered, and he’s powerless to change the outcome. The best he can do is harm something God loves. That’s us.
So what does that look like? People across the planet fall into two different “teams.” There are people on God’s team, and there are people who aren’t on God’s team. When we’re born, we’re automatically in that second category (Romans 3:23). Our default status is “people who aren’t on God’s team.” It’s only by making a conscious decision to accept Christ as savior that we switch to God’s team, trading an eternity of separation from God for an eternity in His presence.
Satan, therefore, doesn’t need to win. He just needs to not lose.
Back in the summer of 2020 I wrote what I’d consider to be some of this site’s most insightful content. I thought I’d be done in four entries, but ended up needing a fifth. In light of what was going on in the world at the time you may find more than a few Covid references, but the heart of the content is still good. Think of the first few of these as a shorter version of the Screwtape Letters. Click on a few of them to check them out:
This past weekend my family went to a Tobymac concert.
For those who don’t know, Tobymac is a Christian recording artist. At this point he’s been around for a long time; he initially gained fame as part of the Christian rock/rap group DC Talk, then began a solo career once they disbanded. He used to do a lot of high-energy songs that found their way into my workout playlist, and while he still does some of that, his style has evolved over time to include a pretty wide variety of music types.
When I was a kid I listened to a Christian singer named Steven Curtis Chapman. I wouldn’t say he was a country singer, but he definitely had a folksy twang as part of his sound. On one of his albums, he collaborated with a young Tobymac, who was part of DC Talk at the time, on a song called “Got To B Tru.” For this particular song, Steven Curtis Chapman (folksy twang) decided he was going to jump into the obnoxious rap scene popular in the early 90’s (the kind Tobymac was a part of). It was a fun crossover, and it helped raise Tobymac’s profile to have such a well-known artist as Steven Curtis Chapman work on a song with him.
I then started paying attention to Tobymac in the early 2000s when I heard a song of his make it onto some kind of rock compilation album I picked up somewhere. Then in 2007 or 2008 my young wife and I went to see him in concert for the first time as part of his “Portable Sounds” tour. As I’ve continued paying attention to his work, it’s become obvious that he was very grateful for the opportunity as a young artist to work with a headliner, and he’s done numerous collaborations with younger or less-well-known performers since gaining his own success.
This past weekend while our family waited for him to take the stage, four different acts came out and performed a set list of their own. Some of these singers I’ve never heard of, but in most cases I knew at least one of the songs they performed. Truth be told, Tobymac was the guy I came to see, and I would have been fine if I only saw his act. These other performers, though, benefit from being on tour with a more seasoned veteran.
Even though few, if any, members of the audience came to see these other acts, being on a tour like this provides them with valuable learning opportunities. They gain experience learning how to work the crowd. They learn a bit about how to craft their stage presence. They might discover things they should not attempt while on stage. These four acts were in various stages of development, and a couple of them could probably soon start to go on tours of their own. It might be a little much for them to scrape together enough startup cash to plan a tour of their own right now, but being in a positions where they can borrow a piece of equipment from someone else on the tour if a speaker’s on the fritz gives them more of a cushion and some experience dealing with unanticipated problems on the road that will benefit them later in their career.
I’m not going to pretend taking four warm-up acts on the road is totally out of the goodness of Tobymac’s heart; I’m sure there’s some kind of financial benefit involved for him. Even so, he likely had to go out of his way to convince a few folks to include more than two or three opening acts on the tour. Whoever those final additions to the tour were, I’m sure they benefitted from it.
In your life, is there someone you could take under your wing and help to get started, either in their career, their ministry, or in some other aspect of their life? I’m sure you’ve gained a lot of hard-fought lessons that only come from experience. While many younger folks out there may not care to benefit from it, there are probably others who would. Even though it might add a little inconvenience, would you consider helping them out as they try to get some direction or some momentum?
Lord, thank you so much for those who’ve come before me and lent me a hand, some good advice, or some encouragement along the way. Help me use the lessons I’ve learned to help others who aren’t as far along as I am. Amen.
During my senior year in college, a buddy and I drove out west in February and did some winter camping in Utah’s Wasatch Mountains. This was quite the leap for me; prior to this, I think I had only slept outside in a tent in someone’s backyard once.
Our first day in Utah, we stopped to see some of the sights in Salt Lake City. It was probably 40 degrees and overcast as we walked around and explored a little bit. Soon after, we got back in the car and headed for the park where we’d planned to set up camp.
That area is kind of funny; it was warm and pleasant (for February) in the city, but as we drove just a few miles and gained some elevation, it started snowing. This was back in the dark ages before everybody had GPS, so we weren’t as confident about our location as it’s easy to be today. The roads got smaller and snowier, and we had to drive slower to be safe.
As we passed signs confirming we were where we wanted to be, we started relaxing about being lost, but got a little intimidated by seeing white everywhere and knowing this was the environment we’d be sleeping in. We passed a little parking lot that said something about paying for a parking pass, but with all the stuff going on in our heads, we didn’t pay much attention to it, or figured we’d come back once we knew for sure we were in the right place. We got to the final parking lot before a locked gate barred any further vehicle passage, parked the car, and skied off into the forest for our winter camping adventure.
Fast forward a day or two, and we’d survived at least one frosty night in the snow. My buddy and I were back at the car in the parking lot, swapping out some gear or something. A park ranger was making the rounds in the parking lot. Seeing us, she came over with a big, bright smile, and we started chatting. The Winter Olympics were in town, which was why we had come. She wanted to hear about where we’d come from, what events we were going to see, and we swapped perspectives about some of the big news of the games so far. She was very personable, and thought what we were doing was really cool.
Eventually she took a look at the front of our car and didn’t see the parking pass that was supposed to be displayed on the dashboard. When she asked about it, we were forced to admit we hadn’t purchased one. She squinted her eyes shut and tossed her head back, as though she were saddened for us. “Oh, guys, come on!” She then performed her duty of writing us a citation, which I probably still have sitting around somewhere in the basement. I think she signed it Ranger Chen or something. She was perfectly willing to spend time being nice to us and chatting with us, but her cordiality didn’t supersede her authority and responsibility.
One of the conundrums non-Christians can fall victim to is some version of the idea that “if God’s all-knowing and knows my heart, he knows I’m a mostly good person, and even though I never ‘gave my heart to him’ or whatever, he must know that I would have if I had been presented with the choice.” I can see how that might make sense to them, but they’re looking at the picture without having all the information.
God is holiness personified. Holiness means “set apart.” He’s beholden to abide by the rules He Himself laid out. That means He can’t let unholiness exist in the glory of His presence. Someone who hasn’t accepted Christ as Savior does not have their sins blotted out, so their unholiness would be in danger of contaminating God’s holiness. Although God freely offers Christ’s righteousness to all, He can’t/won’t tolerate the unholiness of those who don’t accept it.
In His role of authority, God looks at those who don’t make the choice to follow Him and says “Guys, I love you, but you DO have to play by the rules. You ARE subject to the penalty associated with sin.” For every person who dies without accepting Christ, God hurts for their loss. I imagine He might toss His head back with eyes squinted shut, just like that park ranger, saying “Rrrrghh! Even after all the evidence I put in front of them!”
If you’re still breathing, you still have the opportunity to accept Christ as your savior. Don’t assume you’ll have time to think about it later, though. Every breath you take is a gift from the Lord, and you don’t know how many more you’ve got left. Take some time right now to consider what to do with the question of who Jesus Christ is.
