A couple of months ago, in the midst of our heat wave and drought, I was out, in what felt like a sauna, for a morning walk around our property. I was in the last leg of my 5-mile trek, zooming downhill like I was in a race against time. I had just crested the last little hill and there was nothing but downhill left. To put it in my grandson’s terms, I had just rounded third base and was sprinting for home plate. It was hot, I was dripping with sweat and feeling like a soggy sponge when I zipped through a spider web. Without missing a beat, I did a little shiver-and-swipe dance to rid myself of the eight-legged intruder.
Next thing I knew—bam!—I was face-first in a 'not-so' delightful mix of dirt, grass, and crunchy leaves. Remember, we were in a drought, so this wasn’t exactly a soft landing in a lush meadow. It happened so quickly I didn’t even have time to turn my head or brace myself. I lay there for a moment, assessing the damage, convinced I had broken my nose. That suspicion was most likely confirmed when I reached up to wipe away the blood and heard a delightful crunch as it moved back into place. Fantastic! Now I will have to explain my fashionable black eyes. Thankfully, I was blessed with bruising on only one side of my face.
My forearms looked like they’d been in a wrestling match, my knees were banged up, and I was a walking nature collage with dirt, grass, and leaves sticking to me like glue.
Once I managed to stand upright again, I took a step back to investigate my clumsy mishap. Surprise, surprise—a small, sneaky rock was hiding under the grass and leaves, like a ninja waiting to take me down.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, and I was back out for my morning walk when I tripped again. This time, I caught myself just in time, but it wasn’t long before I tripped again. I said, ok Lord, what is going on? Why did I fall, why am I tripping? Am I not picking up my feet, not keeping my eyes on the trail, moving too fast, not paying attention? What is going on?
It takes me around an hour and a half to complete 5 miles and I love this time with God. There is nothing like being outdoors, listening to the birds, watching the neighboring cows, and just spending time with God. It is so peaceful and takes me away from everything else so it’s just God and me. I highly encourage it!
Now, onto the lesson, because God always has a masterclass in store for me. How do I connect my little face-plant with my spiritual journey? Well, it’s as simple as this: sin. Yup, that’s the culprit.
What makes us stumble into sin? What camouflages it like a sneaky rock in the grass? As I pondered this, I had to admit a few things. We take our eyes off God and start focusing on our life’s circus. We forget to use the tools God gave us: His Word, prayer, the Holy Spirit, and the wise counsel of our Christian friends. We gather with friends and family and, whoops, start gossiping. We complain about others like we’re perfect. We lie to ourselves because admitting the truth is just too hard. Pride sneaks in like an uninvited guest. We are in such a hurry to get to the finish line, we forget to look around us and appreciate all God is doing. Or we look at others and think, “Why does their life look like a Pinterest board while mine’s a yard sale?”
Sin comes in all shapes and sizes and colors and types. Sometimes it’s obvious, like a giant rock in the middle of the path, and other times it’s as sneaky as that rock hiding under leaves. So how do we tackle it? God calls us to be Holy because He is Holy. That means we need to sweep out the sin that trips us up. We’ll never be sinless—only One was—and yet God wouldn’t call us to be Holy if we couldn’t be, if He couldn’t work in us to make us Holy.
Every day of my life feels like a beautiful unfolding of providence. I’m in awe of how God weaves together all these countless little details—things like spider webs and hidden rocks that I never even noticed before. I find myself amazed almost daily by the incredible things the Lord is doing. By the grace of God and the power of the Holy Spirit and the work of the Word, I’ve come to 73 years of age and I have to tell you that it’s certainly not in my strength that I’ve arrived at this point. I think being faithful through life, whatever trials bring you to the end, is the most profound testimony, far greater than any of my words. And there are a lot of trials at this point in life that are inevitable. They’re coming because we’re all frail. How we demonstrate our faithfulness in those times is the true test.
