The Pressing On

Uh oh, the plane is going down.

We’re over the ocean, so it’s probably going to be a water landing.  Yikes, here come the oxygen masks.  My heart is racing.  People are starting to freak out a little.  We’re losing altitude quickly.  Here comes an unmanned beverage cart down the aisle (Ouch! How is it that these things ALWAYS hit my elbow!)  The captain is saying something, but we can’t really make it out.  Something about impact.  Whoa!  And there it is.  We’re in the Atlantic. Oh crap, we’re in the Atlantic.

Now what?  I’ve seen those videos a thousand times.  What am I supposed to do next?  Oh yeah, right.  I’m supposed to cling to life with the thing under my butt.

Nice thought, eh?

I fly quite a bit these days and I have plenty of time to kill on flights.  There’s only so many times you can read the emergency card.  When you travel infrequently, the in-flight magazine is a nice change of pace.  But, after your sixth flight in a week on the same carrier, you feel prepared to have a discussion with the person next to you about the top-10 orthopedic surgeons in the country, should the occasion arise.  And SkyMall.  Lovely SkyMall.  How many times we can look at the same junk time and time again?  Maybe they figure if you are jet lagged enough that you will break down and buy a 6-foot yeti for your garden or the awkward-inflating-pillow-that-nobody-has-ever-bought-ever from the catalog.

I feel certain that if anyone has actually purchased this, they only used it once.

But, you know what?  After so many flights, there becomes something comforting about the cat that poops in the toilet.  He wants to look into your soul.  See what I mean?

I digress.  Recently, I noticed the tray table in front of me, while in the upright and locked position, had a label that I hadn’t previously thought too much about.  Sure, I’ve seen it plenty of time, but never really thought about its implications.  The label was a friendly reminder that the seat cushion you’ve had your butt on for hours and that strangers have had their strange butts on for hours, is what you are instructed to cling to in the unlikely event of a water landing.

Excellent.  My life depends on a weathered and withered fart absorber.  I think I’ll take my chances with the beverage cart.

God has been doing a work in me for a while.  He’s been refining me, rebuking me.  I’m learning to accept the changes that He is putting on my heart and learning to give in to His ways.

Joshua 23:8 says “but you shall cling to the LORD your God just as you have done to this day.”  I NEED these reminders occasionally.  I need God to put messages on the tray tables before me so I can become refocused.

Verses 11-13 continue with “Be very careful, therefore, to love the LORD your God. For if you turn back and cling to the remnant of these nations remaining among you and make marriages with them, so that you associate with them and they with you, know for certain that the LORD your God will no longer drive out these nations before you, but they shall be a snare and a trap for you, a whip on your sides and thorns in your eyes, until you perish from off this good ground that the LORD your God has given you.”

When we find ourselves straying away from God, we have to cleave and cling to Him. We need to separate ourselves from the growing relationships with have built with worldly things   When we get caught up in material ‘wants’ we lose focus of our spiritual ‘needs’.  God’s correction and discipline is never easy to accept. Sometimes, the lessons kind of stink, but end up providing you the kind of support you need.

Just like that seat cushion.