“Knowing the correct password—saying ‘Master, Master,’ for instance—isn’t going to get you anywhere with me. What is required is serious obedience—doing what my Father wills. I can see it now—at the Final Judgment thousands strutting up to me and saying, ‘Master, we preached the Message, we bashed the demons, our God-sponsored projects had everyone talking.’ And do you know what I am going to say? ‘You missed the boat. All you did was use me to make yourselves important. You don’t impress me one bit. You’re out of here."
The word is obedience. What is required is serious obedience. Now the question is, "what is obedience that is not of a serious nature?"
It could be a "tip of the hat" to the Ten Commandments, or it might even be a acknowledgement that these are good moral laws that a person should try to live by as well as he can, at least the ones that do not have God in them, and deal with not having any other one in their worship life.
The seriousness seems to become more increasingly important the more I want to do His will and when I ask for His guidance. If I ask, truly meaning to follow that answer wherever it leads, then my obedience is cranked up another notch.
If my asking is for a list of options to choose from, then it is my will that decides what is best for all involved, but if there is one way that is God-chosen, then my obedience is to that one that God holds out to me.
A lot of the time, that serious obedience is not seen by others, it is only felt in the heart and attitude of the person trying to live that way.
I just finished another book. Yes another one, and I know that I seem to be doing that a lot lately. Maybe it is too hot to do anything else right now.
Anyway, this true story concerns a middle aged man, one who has lost his wife to cancer, and decides to quit his job and hike the Appalachian Trail all the way from Georgia to Maine.
Paul, whose trail name is Apostle, is a Christian man asking a lot of questions from God. He begins with the why. "Why did God take my wife?" Then as he walks along the trail, 2,000 plus miles to Maine, his question turns to "God, are You really there?" As God seems to answer that question in a series of events, he gets to the question "God, what do you want me to do now?"
God does not mind the questions, but there is a seriousness involved with the answers, what do I do with the answers?
I note that the question above does not end with "what do you want me to do?". It has that little word "now" tucked on at the end. "I hear what You say, and, as much as I want to know how it will all end out, the thing I need to do is step out in the "now".
Apostle had to begin the walk before he could experience what he came on that jaunt to find. He had to get out of that friend's car, put on his backpack and take that first step. Then each morning he had to take another first step, and each time he questioned and got an answer, another first step was required.
How many times do I ask the questions, get some answer, realize that is what God wants me to do, and then even take the first step, only to leave the trail for some reason, realizing later that I have not followed, go back to the trail marker, and start anew
There were many hikers in that book, persons that he would meet up with or come along side Apostle as he walked. Some stayed with him for many miles and some for just a few, depending on their goals and hiking styles. One caught my attention as I wrote this post.
I don't remember his trail name, but he seemed to be directionally challenged. It was joked about this hiker that he made the trail a lot longer than the 2,100 miles, because he kept getting turned around and going the wrong way. Hikers he had met going north, and passed, would see him again days later coming toward them going south.
Is that the way I am when it comes to serious obedience? Taking a detour or even turning around and going the wrong way? My way?
Help me, God
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