Obedience

This may be hard to believe, but I am not always obedient. Never have been. Now, don't get me wrong, I was a good kid and really didn't give my mother or father much grief, but there were still times I was disobedient. Nothing in particular stands out from my past about the times I was disobedient to my parents, but I know there WERE times and for those times, I, of course am sorry. (really)

Disobedience is a funny thing. There is always some "good" reason behind our act and at the time it seems all consuming and more important than the act of obedience, otherwise, why would we do it? Maybe the issue is pride. Maybe the issue is I just don't want to. Maybe the issue is showing the other person they don't have control over our life, but no matter the reason, we have decided that what we want to do is more important than listening to someone else.

There have been two different times in my life that disobedience paid a big price for me. Both situations are of similar nature and I replay the moments of choice in my head over and over. I know the exact moment I decided to disobey and I know the exact moment I paid for that disobedience, because disobedience has a price. There is pain that comes with it and I know that all too well.

The first time was after church one night. It had been a long day and Emily was being particularly crabby (she was 2) and I was ready to be home. Curt's Grandpa had been placed in a nursing home recently and I had heard that he wasn't doing very well and wasn't expected to live much longer.

Curt's Grandpa was not a believer. He didn't believe in God, didn't believe in Jesus as God's son, let alone his death for our salvation. As I was driving home that night, I knew I was supposed to go see him. The pressure to take the turn to where he was living was so great that I could feel it in my chest. I had no idea what state he was in, but I knew I was supposed to go and share one last time about the hope we have through Christ. I knew it and I didn't do it.

Curt's Grandpa died that night.

What would have happened if I had obeyed? I have no idea. Maybe his grandpa would have believed. Maybe he wouldn't have. I will never know and my disobedience has eaten at me ever since.

Major disobedience #2

It was a hot fall day. My nephew was playing JFL football in Dunlap and we made the drive to see him. It was Labor day weekend and I was looking forward to the extra day off and spending time with my hubby and daughter. Emily was 3. She had been sick for a week or so and was finally on the mend. I thought some time outside might be just the thing to get her on the full road to recovery. 

The day was a disaster from the beginning. I didn't look at the forecast and the sweatshirt I had chosen to wear that day was HOT even if it was only on for a short time. It had been muddy and Emily was a disaster and when she shared that disaster with me I was forced to buy a t shirt to change out of the sweatshirt I was wearing. The only t-shirt available was a Dunlap Eagles t shirt, 2 sizes too big. Emily had nothing but long sleeves and was turning redder by the minute and every person that saw her remarked on her color. It was a miserable day. I got in my car to find that the air wasn't working. I about blew my top. 

As we are driving from Dunlap to Washington we were taking a route that went just past where my dad lived. It had been a couple weeks since I had seen him, but we had spoken on the phone just a few days before. He seemed a little off; talking about whacked out things, but that happened occasionally when his medication got off. For those that aren't aware, a car accident in 1989 had left my dad a quadriplegic and he had struggled with bed sores for a few years by this point.  

On this particular Saturday, I had chosen to drive from Dunlap to Route 29 with the sole purpose of going to see my dad. Again, I KNEW I needed to see him.

The closer we got I started an internal fight with myself. Emily was hot and tired and not behaving. I was a sweaty, muddy mess. I glanced in the rear view mirror to see Emily asleep.

And I drove on home.

Tuesday morning I received a phone call at work that my dad was in the hospital and it didn't look good. He was in a coma, had been acting out of sorts all weekend and the infection from his bed sores had gotten into his blood. I needed to get to the hospital right away.

I spent the next 8 days of my life watching my father die. 

What would have happened if I had gone to see him that Saturday? Would I have realized how bad a shape he was in and called the ambulance? Would that have been enough extra time to save his life? I will never know because I did not listen. I drove home.

I believe with all that I am that the Holy Spirit spoke to me on those two occasions. I know the voice of God well enough now to recognize when He is speaking to me and I know that I ignored Him. I disobeyed and I know it as well as He knows it.

I try not to disobey any longer.

Case in point:

This past October was a terrible time for our church family. We had two men dying of cancer. It was a very emotional time for my husband because he loved these two men. He considered them 2 of the best friends he has in our church and it was painful to watch Curt struggle through their diagnoses and ultimately their deaths.

The first of the two men to be diagnosed had just gone to be with the Lord, (Christian talk for dying) and the second man wasn't doing well. Curt and I had stopped many times to see him, pray with him, and just visit and listen to his stories. He was an incredible story teller. I could listen to his stories of growing up in Appalachia for hours. But his storytelling days were quickly subsiding. He grew quieter and quieter and he preferred to just listen to us or have me read his Bible to him.

I had gone to pick the kids up from dance and again, that voice was there telling me to go visit. I have learned my lesson. I got the kids in the truck and went to the nursing home.

I arrived to see this dear man in bed in a non-responsive state. I knew from being with my dad that his time was very short. I had a cry, gave the man a kiss and pulled out his Bible to read to him. I knew his favorite passage of scripture was Psalm 51 and his favorite book was John. The first thing I did was read the passage from Psalms and then I picked up from where I had left off in John. I read and read and read. I read because God was telling me to keep going. I read from John chapter 3 until the end of John chapter 14. At the end of John 14 I knew I was done. I knew that was where God wanted me to stop. 

I had been holding his hand in my left hand and with my right hand I was turning the pages of the Bible and wiping my nose with a Kleenex. As I read through John 14:1-6 he began to squeeze my hand. He held it tightly until I finished with John 14 and then I prayed. 

I prayed for God to bring this dear man into His presence. To ease His suffering and to give him the only thing he had wanted since being diagnosed; to be with his Father, to go home.

I prayed, I wept, I sang to him and then I closed his Bible to leave. I gave him one final kiss on the cheek and he gave one final squeeze on my hand. As I stood up to leave, I may have imagined it, but I think he nodded his head to me in approval and thanks. I took one final glance at him in his bed and then turned and walked away.

He died one hour later.

Few things have been more precious to me than those final moments with my dear brother in Christ. I praise God that I was obedient.

This past Christmas season I had the opportunity to be obedient yet again. I have come to see these moments not with the fear I once did, whether it is an opportunity to talk about Christ with a stranger or friend, or to make a phone call or visit, but with wonder not knowing how God is going to use me. That didn't happen overnight, but after many opportunities to disobey or obey. 

We were out caroling. We were at a local nursing home and one of the ladies we were going to visit was asleep. I was told not to wake her by other happy carolers (that is code for my husband) so we visited with one other lady that was in this home and turned to leave. 

And that's when God turned me towards her room. I took the small gift we were passing out and set it on her dresser when she saw me.

She was so excited we were there. She grinned, talked with all that had come and listened to us sing off key with the wrong words in the wrong order. It was easy to see she loved it. She told us how long it had been since she had been able to come to church and the longing in her voice was evident.

I left knowing we had been obedient to God. The joy on her face as we walked away was worth every tiny bit of effort we had put into going. Anything else we could have been doing no longer mattered and my disappointment with much of that day was swept away. I had been obedient and was able to soak in the joy and rewards of that obedience.

I was reminded of our caroling and the joy we brought to those we visited with a phone call last night. That precious woman had passed away after suffering another stroke yesterday.

In life we all make choices. For me, I make poor choices all too often. My prayer is to live outside of myself and my own world. To be an encouragement to others and be Jesus to as many people as I am able. I pray that I will be obedient when my Father requires something of me and through those times of obedience I will grow, mature and become His light.

What choices are before you? Do you know and hear His voice?

Are you striving to live for Someone bigger than yourself?

"...choose this day whom you will serve..." Joshua 24:15