Tag: kid

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Ever Think You’d Be a Teenaged Millionaire?

I’d guess I was somewhere in the range of 12-14 years old for this one. Out of the blue, I got a letter in the mail from Publisher’s Clearing House or something similar. Whoever it was, it was a sweepstakes business, and the letter implied that I’d be winning a million dollars!

Of course I know years later that this was too good to be true, but back then, in the 1990s when things were simple and I was young (and a million dollars went a lot further than it does in the 2020s), I was completely taken captive by the idea. I set about planning what to do with all that money.

I decided my largest purchase was going to be a house that was for sale in the neighborhood where we lived. It might have even been right next door, I’m not sure. Once I figured that out, I broke out the JC Penney catalogue that came in the mail every year. Remember those? They were bigger than a phone book (hopefully you remember those, too). The catalogue had all kinds of home furnishings. I picked out a living room set with black leather couches, I think. I remember I also wanted to pick up a hot tub for the back yard. I dog-eared a whole lot of that catalogue’s pages. I don’t remember how I mentally got past the problem of being too young to make legal transactions like buying a house, or figuring out taxes, or being too young to even be able to drive a car. All that little stuff would surely get taken care of for someone with money!

I got pretty deep into this whole thing. Eventually my parents had to break it to me: “you’re not winning this money.” I think they showed me the original letter I received, and pointed out the fine print or the way the words for the announcement were chosen very carefully to make me believe I’d already won. Looks like I was going to have to figure out some other way to pay for the latest Michael W. Smith and Steven Curtis Chapman albums.

Hopefully reading from the Bible is a regular occurrence for you. If it’s not, try to make that a habit starting this year. Here’s something to watch out for though. English is not the language the Bible was originally written in. As you can imagine, not every word in the original languages directly translate to English. There’s a reason “lost in translation” is a common saying. Folks have been translating the Bible for quite a long time and they’ve put a lot of thought into this, but sometimes the reasons translators chose particular English words or phrases aren’t evident or explained. That’s where a study Bible can really come in handy. It explains some of those word choices, along with the context of why actions were so meaningful in light of the days’ traditions, and it often links related passages.

While a scripture-only Bible is wonderful, a study Bible typically brings much more understanding and context. In much the same way that I needed to have someone who understood the reality of “you’ve won a million dollars*” explain the asterisk to me, I find it to be enormously helpful to have a study Bible that breaks things down for me or explains it to me in an understandable way so I don’t make my own erroneous assumptions and accidentally sink my beliefs into something that’s simply not true.

Lord, thank You for giving us the written word. Help me find the right translation of the Bible I can readily understand, and the right tools to grasp the significance of what I’m reading. In Your name, Amen.

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Bad Ideas Just Come to Me; No Extra Thought Required

Have you ever had a lapse in judgment?

When I was a young teenager, probably 14 or 15, my church’s youth leader (Todd) dropped a couple of us off at the entrance to our development. It was December, so it got dark pretty early. I’d guess it was around 5:30 pm; we were coming back from weightlifting (gotta get huge, right?), and since our housing development was on the way back to where Todd was returning the van, he dropped two of us off.

I’m not really sure what I was thinking, but I guess I decided I’d be a bit of a clown, and after I exited the side door and started walking around the back of the van, a dumb thought entered my mind. “Wouldn’t it be funny if I jumped onto the back bumper when Todd started driving away?” I just assumed Todd would somehow know I was there, stop the van, and say “har har, wise guy…off.” Then I’d give one of those dopey teenage “shucks” laughs, and comply, then we’d both be on our way.

Well, I jumped up onto the bumper and held onto the back door’s handle (the handles were more solid back then than today’s handles).

He didn’t notice, though. He started driving away and didn’t slow down. Well, like any joke gone wrong, you just kind of want to make an exit with as little fanfare as possible. Since we weren’t going real fast just yet, I figured I’d just hop off. It was dark though, and I couldn’t see how fast we were going. In one of those “this probably isn’t a good idea but I’m going for it anyway” moments, I hopped off the bumper. As proof I was less than fully committed, I hung onto the handle, just in case.

Yes, the van was moving too fast for me to safely hop off. Once my feet hit the ground it became crystal clear that I wouldn’t be able to stay on my feet. They got pulled out from under me and I started being dragged behind the van, hanging onto the rear door’s handle with one hand.

The ratty old shoes I was wearing at the time were a little too big for my feet, and I distinctly remember one of them starting to come off. If I lost a shoe, that foot could have been subjected to some very nasty road rash, and I probably would have let go of the handle. By the good Lord’s providence, it slipped right back on when I turned my foot a different way. Truth be told, I don’t remember whether or not I started yelling for Todd to stop. My other hand held the jacket I’d brought with me, so I started whipping the van’s back door with it to try to attract Todd’s attention and get him to stop.

Right around that time, a car rounded the bend and started coming up behind us, and illuminated the situation with its headlights. I can’t imagine what that driver must’ve thought when he/she witnessed the scene.

Now, sometimes you do something dumb and you’re fortunate enough that nobody really finds out about it. At the time this happened, we lived in one of the corner houses in this development. When Todd dropped us off, all I had to do was cross the street and I would have been in my yard. The way events unfolded, if you had been on our house’s back deck, you would’ve had a great vantage point to seeing a van driving away with a kid hanging off the back, flailing his coat, illuminated by the headlights of a car following behind. Well, for some reason, my mother was back there and had a great view to all of this. That was probably a pretty horrific sight. Sorry Mom.

Well we probably only went 50 yards or so, and what felt like 50 mph in the dark was probably more like 20-25. A pretty confused Todd stopped the van, and as soon as it was safe, I let go of the handle and left the road for the safety of the grass. My shoes were noticeably more worn than they were 60 seconds ago, and were still warm from being dragged across asphalt. I don’t even remember if I gave Todd any explanation, or if I just waved a “thanks for stopping” and walked away. It was an incredible act of divine protection; my shoes took the only lumps of the evening and I walked away without a scratch.

I’m sure this was one of those moments where Mom wanted to both hug and strangle me. I don’t really remember walking in the front door or what Mom said, but I know she somehow saw things play out, because she’s brought up this event several times in the past. At the time, I probably just mumbled an “I’m fine, what’s the big deal?” in typical teenage boy fashion.

To the teenagers out there: you’re gonna do dumb stuff. Don’t do it on purpose, you’ll do plenty of dumb stuff accidentally. Your parents are going to worry about you, and they’re going to lose sleep over you. Sometimes when they just give you random hugs or tell you they love you, they’re not overreacting, they’re just thinking about all the ways things could have gone wrong and are simply glad you’re okay.

To the parents of teenagers out there: God bless you. Being the parents of littles is physically exhausting, while being the parents of teenagers is emotionally exhausting. I see why hair turns gray or falls out in this stage of life. Don’t let eye rolls stop you from telling those kids you love them and giving them extra hugs. Pray for them like crazy, and foster their spiritual development as they barrel toward adulthood.

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Maybe it Was a Pep Rally or Something

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.

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Why Does This Whole Thing Seem so Familiar?

I don’t have a whole lot of free time, but when I do, sometimes I like to watch old TV shows. There’s a lot of demented stuff in today’s shows, or they find ways to ratchet up the tension so much there’s no way you’re going to sleep soon after watching it. With the old stuff, yes, there might be more plot holes, or the show was written for an audience with less access to information than today’s audiences, but there’s usually no problem falling asleep after (or even during) the show.

One of the old shows I watch is Magnum, P.I. (not the remake…the original 1980s Tom Selleck version). This is a show about Thomas Magnum, a former Navy SEAL doing freelance work as a Private Investigator in Hawaii. In the show he’s constantly bumming favors from his Vietnam buddies and rarely pays back what he owes them. He gets to enjoy the lavish accommodations, including the famous red Ferrari, of a famous author’s Hawaiian estate in return for providing security advice (much to the chagrin of the estate’s caretaker, Higgins). He’s often dealing with clients that can’t pay his full rate, getting cornered in an alley by some burly dudes that don’t like him snooping around, or trying to avoid Higgins’ pair of Dobermans.

As I watched one episode, there was something about the plot that seemed very familiar, like I’d seen it before. Every 4th of July, Magnum had a tradition of spending the day alone at sea in a little boat called a surf ski. (It’s kind of like a kayak, but it’s got an open top and is easier to fall out of.) While he was out at sea, a reckless boater got too close and capsized him. He got separated from the surf ski and paddle and got caught in one of the strong currents near the islands, and he ended up needing to tread water for like, 12 hours or something crazy like that. I didn’t remember what happened in the end, but I remembered that part of it.

It turns out Magnum, P.I. was a show my dad used to watch when I was a kid. Although I was a bit too young to watch the show when it originally aired, he must’ve been catching this one as a rerun while I was dawdling and trying to avoid going to bed one night. The thought of having to tread water for hours blew my mind as a young kid (and who knows…maybe it subconsciously had something to do with my becoming a lifeguard later), and left a strong-enough impression that I remembered it more than 35 years later.

You know, back before they had TV shows, and way back before paper was readily available, people had to rely on other means to pass down significant things from one generation to the next. The Old Testament Israelites, few of which could even read or write at an advanced level, used markers and oral tradition to keep alive the memory of God’s faithfulness to them. They’d build monuments to serve as reminders for times when God saved them from destruction, or recite the story of how the Lord liberated them from Egypt (the retelling of which is commanded in Exodus 13:3-10, and still today occurs at the Passover seder). Many of the Psalms themselves are written in ways that aid memorization; some Psalms have a verse starting with each successive letter in the Hebrew alphabet. Other Psalms are sung at specific times of the year to commemorate certain things.

Even though we currently have what seems like limitless information available at our fingertips, it’s important to remember and celebrate the information we already have. The Lord’s faithfulness to us is second to none, and His grace and mercy toward us far exceed anything we deserve. Despite the fact that we’re bombarded with more information per day than any generation in history, don’t forget the importance and relevance of God’s actions toward us all. It’s the most important and consequential thing you’ll ever hear about, so don’t forget it, and be sure to pass it on to those around you.

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I’m Just Here for the Boo’s

Well happy Halloween, everybody. Anybody still dress up on Halloween now that you’re not a kid anymore?

The event wasn’t a huge thing for me as a kid. I do remember one year, though, I got a paper knight’s mask from Denny’s or some other restaurant, my parents wrapped some kind of box in aluminum foil, gave me a little cardboard sword (also wrapped in aluminum foil), and I used a pot lid as a shield. I was one mean-looking knight, let me tell you. I was, probably in my second or third year of college?

No, just kidding. I was a kid, probably 3 or 4 years old.

The fun part about Halloween (aside from the candy) is getting to dress up and pretending to be something you’re not. It’s fun for a few hours. Some people unknowingly embrace a lifestyle like that, though. Jesus called some people out for doing this.

Pharisees and those highly educated on the law held positions of authority and were responsible for teaching God’s word to a people who didn’t have ready access to their own copy of the scriptures. Rather than focus on justice and mercy, the spiritual leaders harped on strict adherence to the tiniest aspects of the law (even going so far as to institute laws God did not command). They did a great job tithing even to the smallest detail (giving the appropriate portion of their herb gardens) and made sure they sternly warned anyone who dared to walk too far on the Sabbath, but they completely neglected the things God actually valued.

When Jesus confronted them on it, here’s what He had to say: “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.” – Matt 23:27-28

(That was only a portion of what Christ said during an exchange where He didn’t hold much back.)

Jewish law forbade people from touching graves, which caused ceremonial uncleanness. Tombs back then were whitewashed on a regular basis, their brilliance causing them to stand out and warn people away from them. It also helped them look very clean and neat. In combination with sometimes having ornate decorations on the tomb, you could get the impression that these were very nice places to be, almost forgetting the decay, uncleanness, and defilement residing inside.

My point? Sure, have fun dressing up for Halloween for a little bit, but don’t forget…it might be easy to hide your true self from others, but God can peer right through your best costume and knows exactly who you are. If that’s not something you’re happy about, maybe it’s time to make some changes in your life.

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I Never Even Tried Before. Why not?

Boy, I don’t even think my parents know about this one. When I was in 11th or 12th grade, I did something very uncharacteristic of me. I decided to try out for the school play.

Now you have to understand, this was a very unusual thing for me to pursue. There must have been a cute girl in the cast or something. I can’t think of who it would have been, though. Honestly, I think I just wanted to try something totally new.

I can’t even remember what the production was, but I remember I decided to read for the part of a major supporting character. It wasn’t a lead role or anything, but it was somebody who’d grab a lot of attention when on stage. Think ‘Franc’ from “Father of the Bride” or a detective in some other play.

I’d never done a school play before (aside from stuff in elementary school). I went to the interest meeting, got a copy of the play, and grabbed a packet to fill out. In that packet I wrote down the part I wanted to play. One of the questions they asked was something like “if you don’t get your preferred role, are you willing to accept a different part?” I thought it over for a bit, then answered “no.” At some point I turned in the packet, and eventually received information for auditions.

The faculty member in charge of the play was an English teacher I’d had sometime in high school. She knew me from class, but I’d never worked with her in an acting capacity. Whatever the role was, I gave it a shot during the audition. I thought I did fine, but didn’t know the teacher’s thoughts on it. Ultimately, I didn’t get the part, and I don’t know who did. Since the “try something new” thing didn’t pan out this time, I didn’t even go see the play.

With the benefit of hindsight, I totally get why I didn’t get the part. Even if I had a really good audition, I had no track record for the director or other students to rely on. The director can’t take an unknown and throw him out on stage in a prominent role. Will he freeze? Will he nail it? There’s just no way of knowing. Besides, if we’ve got Joey over here, trying out for the same role, and the director’s worked with Joey before, she knows a little better what she can expect from him. Unless the director’s short on cast members, there’s really no upside to picking the brand new guy who’s only willing to play one particular role rather than someone who’s been in plays before and is willing to consider multiple roles if it helps the team out.

Christianity can be a little like this. When it comes to leaps of faith and following God’s lead in your life, track records of past experience are important. The twist here, though, is that past performance doesn’t help God trust you any more, it helps you trust God more as He provides for you in subsequently bigger and bigger ways. With the benefit of hindsight, you can see how your previous struggles and challenges helped prepare you for subsequent larger struggles and challenges. Again, this doesn’t build the Lord’s trust in you, but you get to look at your history of being faithful and seeing God at work in and through you. Seeing that, you trust Him more.

I’d also urge you to be willing to play something other than your preferred role. We can get comfortable in the ways we serve God, and become less and less willing to step out of our comfort zones as time goes on. The Lord loves a willing heart. I’ve heard it said that as Christians, we’re always in the furnace or on the anvil. God spends a lot of time honing us and shaping us into who He wants us to be. I believe a willingness to follow His call into waters deeper than we’re comfortable with is a great way to demonstrate our obedience both to Him and to ourselves.

If you have no track record of faithfulness to the Lord, why not start today? Start small. Begin reading from the Bible every day. Start tithing. Stop doing things you know you shouldn’t be doing. Get rid of stuff you know you shouldn’t have. Being faithful in the small things helps build that history, that lifestyle of obedience. As you follow through on those small things, God will give you bigger opportunities to make a difference in someone else’s life, or lots of other peoples’ lives.

But it all starts with small steps of faithfulness. Start building that track record today.

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Big Fires Come From Little Sparks

One time when I was pretty young, one of the neighbors hosted a bunch of the neighborhood kids for a backyard campout. I don’t remember the group size for sure, but there were probably about four to six of us that had a campfire and spent the night in a tent.

This was my first time sleeping outside (it’s probably a stretch to call it camping), but I had grown up with lots of campfires. We had a roaring bonfire, and we kept it going for awhile. I’m more of an early riser than a night owl, so it didn’t take long for me to turn in for the night while a few of the other guys stayed up around the fire.

The next morning I was one of the first to wake up. The tent was humid and stuffy, so I headed outside. With nothing much else to do, I wandered over to the campfire pit. The fire had gone out, but the stones and ashes were still warm. Using a stick, I stirred the ashes around, looking for embers that were left over from the previous night.

I found a single ember that wasn’t much larger than a spark. As soon as I uncovered it, it started glowing brightly. As a fire dies down, a layer of ash settles on the hot coals and creates a blanket that prevents the coals from getting fresh oxygen. The coals use up whatever air it can reach, then go into a dormant, smoldering state until either the fuel or air run out, or more fuel and air become available. When I uncovered the ember it the fresh oxygen revived it, but it was about to run out of fuel. I looked around nearby and found some dry leaves and pine needles and set to work trying to rekindle the fire.

With some patience and fanning, the leaves and needles soon began smoking heavily, and finally caught fire. I grabbed more nearby kindling and began building the fire to the point where it was crackling. By the time everyone was awake, it was roaring again.

All of us have sin in our past. Some have a past that includes addictions of some sort, which is very difficult to ever be completely free of. It could be drugs, alcohol, pornography, or any number of other vices. A percentage of those people are able to overcome the worst of it, but they know they must completely turn their back on that addiction if they are to remain free of it. If you know someone that’s a recovering alcoholic, for example, and they haven’t had a drink for many years, it’s a bad idea to encourage them to celebrate a special occasion with “just one” small drink.

Those people know themselves; if they’ve decided to completely abstain from the object of their addiction because they know it’s the only way to remain free of it, please respect that. A roaring fire can dwindle to just one small ember, but an ember is all it takes to build a raging and crackling flame once more.

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When the Wind Blows, is it Good or bad?

I’d guess that I was probably 8 or 9 years old when I got my first kite. It was an orange diamond-shaped kite that had a blue dinosaur on it. I didn’t really know how to use it, but I had seen kites in cartoons and seen something about Benjamin Franklin flying one in a thunderstorm or something, so I knew what kites were supposed to do. I just didn’t know how to launch one.

There was another kid in the neighborhood, I’ll call him Billy. He was a little older than me, so he had a little better idea of what needed to happen. One breezy day we went to a nearby area that didn’t have many trees, and he was able to get the kite aloft.

Once it was up in the air he kept letting out more and more string, and the kite went higher and higher. It caught more wind, and its tails fluttered in the breeze. Every now and then it would start to dive, but giving a tug on the string helped turn it back skyward.

Eventually it got so high I wondered how much higher it could possibly go. The string that came with the kite was on a roll, like a smaller, sturdier version of the cardboard at the center of a roll of toilet paper. It turns out Billy let out almost all the string; with so little left, it came unraveled and the last of it slipped off the roll. My kite blew away.

I figured that was the end of that. I was pretty bummed that my kite was gone. Billy said he was going to go look for it, but I wasn’t real hopeful. After seeing the way that thing had danced around the sky, it seemed the wind may as well have carried it to the next state. Sure enough though, he tracked it down, wound up all the string, and brought it back to me.

Kites, as it turns out, soar when they’re securely tethered to the ground and fighting against the wind. A kite’s shape is designed to lift it higher when it meets resistance. Once that anchor is lost or there’s suddenly a lot of slack in the line, it has no way to resist the wind and loses its ability to create lift, then falls lifelessly to the ground.

To all you Christ-followers out there: you live in a dangerous time. The free ride is over. America was founded as a nation that embraced Christianity, but those days are gone. People that dislike Christianity are more proficient at attacking it than Christians are at defending it. Although Christianity might represent the biggest slice of the nation’s remaining religious demographic, that slice’s voice is drowned out by culture, influencers, and other messages that run counter to it. To be a Christian and take a stand for the principles Christ taught, you have to, without doubt, stand against the wind.

You can choose to keep a low profile if you want. Keeping with the kite metaphor you can stay low, not letting a lot of string out and thus not getting high enough to really let a lot of people see you taking a stand. If you start taking too much heat you can introduce some slack, going with the flow and falling back to a lower profile where you blend in better and get seen by fewer attackers.

Or you can realize the full potential of the way you were designed: to rise higher when the wind blows against you. There will be ups and downs, no doubt, and the tension on the string will sometimes seem like it can’t possibly get any worse, but I’d urge you not to be the one to prevent yourself from soaring. Instead of self-limiting, let the one holding the string be the one to determine how high you’re allowed to go. He knows what’s coming, what He’ll equip you to handle, and what the wind’s going to do. Why not see how high He’ll let you go?

God, I know some of the Bible stories of how You used men and women of faith. That was so long ago and seems like it’s not how You work anymore. Help me remember You’re the God who doesn’t change, and that You still reward great faith. Help me stand for You and not be afraid, no matter what the wind is doing. In Your name I ask, Amen.

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Sometimes A Calculated Risk Pays Off in Spades

I had to do one of my first research reports in 5th grade. I don’t think I’ve spent a whole lot of time checking into the state of Indiana before or since.

I wrote up a report on the state’s population size, its different regions, its climate, likely some stuff on its economy, and probably a few other things. My handwriting was nice and neat (for a change), and I assembled my papers and supporting graphics into one of those folders with the little brass things you stick through the holes in the paper to keep it secure in the folder.

On the day we were supposed to turn it in, I was pretty happy with my well-researched work of academic prowess. I had placed it carefully in my Trapper Keeper and brought it to class without even bending the edges.

As I looked around the class, I was horrified to realize that I had done nothing at all for the cover! While some kids had color photos, printouts, or elaborate drawings on the front of their state reports, all I had was a plain blue folder.

In a panic, I racked my brain about what to do. There was no possible way to do anything substantial before turning it in. That kid over there had cut out pictures of famous landmarks from their state and used a glue stick to fix them on the cover. Kids were already starting to hand their reports in!

The best I could do was to haphazardly draw a picture freehand. I whipped the report open to a picture of the state’s shape and committed the proportions and south border to memory, then started drawing on the front. The drawing was a little off center, but I topped it off with a star roughly where the capital city was. Then I threw the state name in big letters under it and put my name under that. The cover design wasn’t very good, but it was the best I could do in such a short time. I knew I’d get no points at all for the cover if I didn’t do anything, so what did I have to lose?

I don’t remember how I did on the report, but I remember that I got three out of 10 points for the cover portion. Not my best work, but three was better than zero.

If you’re not really ready to jump into this “Jesus thing” with both feet, ask yourself: “what do I have to lose?” Most people are tentative about having to give up some part of their lifestyle or quit something they’ve grown to like. This isn’t like a gym membership where you feel you have to get in shape before you walk through the doors for the first time. Come as you are. Let’s say you grow deeply committed and change your whole lifestyle and then it turns out there’s nothing waiting for us after death. In that case you won’t even possess a consciousness to realize what you’ve given up. If, on the other hand, Christ actually is who He says He is, you will have gained immeasurably more than what you had before. Sounds like very little risk for an immense payoff.

What do you have to lose?

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It’s Right There, Hiding in Plain Sight

When I was a young teenager, members of our youth group took a two-hour trip to go visit a family of friends that had moved away from our church.

We did lots of stuff while reconnecting. We hung out at their house, we went to a local mall, and we ran all over the church grounds playing different games. As energetic young teenagers, we needed an outlet for some of our energy.

It must have been a cold-weather trip, because the sun went down pretty early. One of the games we played was a round of capture the flag. We could go anywhere on the church grounds, as long as it wasn’t inside a building. The playing area included a paved parking lot, the main church building, and a couple of out buildings on the property, along with all the green space in between. We set up the boundaries and used two plain white knee-length socks as flags.

Normally the way these games work is that the playing field is divided into two zones, one for each team. Each team hides the flag somewhere in their zone, and you have to venture into the opposing team’s zone to search for the flag. If an opponent tags you while you’re in their zone, you go to jail in a small section within their zone. You can be set free if someone else from your team makes it to the jail to tags you. You win the game if you find the opposing team’s flag and carry it back to your zone without being tagged. Both teams are playing offense and defense at the same time.

On that particular evening visibility was bad. Since it was dark, starting to get foggy, and there was lousy weather moving in, we split into two easily discernible teams: boys vs. girls. I don’t remember numbers, but there were a lot more girls than there were boys. Between an odd layout of the church grounds and not having enough guys on our team to simultaneously do a good job defending and go looking for the opposing team’s flag, we decided that in order to have any chance of winning, we’d have to come up with an amazing spot to hide our flag so we didn’t have to dedicate anybody to protecting it. As it turns out, we came up with what I believe to be a pretty risky and bold idea for a bunch of middle-schoolers.

When both teams were ready, we started the game. It moved slowly for a long time. Even if our team tagged opponents and brought them to our jail, we didn’t have enough guys to really protect the jail and still play in other areas, so it wasn’t too hard for the other team to set their jailed teammates free.

I remember our team’s strategy was so incoherent and we were spread so thin that at one point in the game I was running from one part of our zone to another and I stumbled across a member of the other team that nobody even realized had made it into our zone. She was picking through the bushes, looking for our flag. They had figured out that if they were patient enough, they could wander in and out of our zone and all they had to do was move quietly and we probably wouldn’t even know they were there.

This went on for probably 45 minutes. I don’t think any of our guys were able to find their flag, and the other team was getting frustrated because they felt they had searched everywhere in our zone and still couldn’t find our flag. All of us were cold and wet, and our team was about to get accused of cheating, so we collectively decided to call it a draw.

Understandably, the other team wanted to see with their own eyes where our flag had been hidden. We brought them over to the area, and some from the opposing team were shocked to learn they had run past it multiple times during the game and hadn’t even considered that it could be so near. We had placed our flag, an ordinary white sock, lying in plain sight on one of the white lines outlining parking spaces in the church’s parking lot.

Humans are born with the idea that there’s something beyond this life…that there’s more to this existence than what we can see. God’s the one that put that feeling there…He built it into us. People can’t look up at the stars or at the intricacy of the human body and not start asking big questions.

The devil, knowing he cannot stop this instinctive wondering, has concocted and fostered numerous counterfeit religious ideas and worldviews with which to distract humanity. The objective truth seeker has many options aside from Christianity they must examine, and the enemy’s hope is that the seeker will tire of the search and declare something besides the following of Christ as “close enough,” that the seeker will conclude that each worldview is as meaningless as every other one, or get them established and entrenched in an inaccurate worldview like works-based salvation. Yet all that time, the answer is not hiding. It’s sitting right there in plain sight, waiting for the seeker to look closer at it.

If you’re seeking truth, take a look at Jesus Christ and what the Bible (only the Old and New Testaments…no “mandatory” additional books) has to say about Him. Humanity was initially created perfect and had fellowship with God, but then made mistakes and became imperfect, thereby falling out of that fellowship. Jesus Christ, God incarnate, lived a perfect (sinless) life, and extends to us the offer of the only bridge back to that sweet fellowship with the Lord.

It’s that simple. You don’t have to perform rituals. You don’t have to give a certain amount of money to the church or perform a certain number of hours of community service. All you have to do is embrace Jesus Christ as your Savior, acknowledging Him as your only means of escaping the judgment of your imperfections. As you walk that new path, you’ll desire to change your character to become more like His, and as a result of that, you’ll want to perform good works.

It’s right there, hiding in plain sight. I implore you, take a closer look. You might just find the thing that you’ve been looking for all along: the answer to your deep restlessness.