Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath:
Neither give place to the devil.
Ephesians 4:26-27
Those were the Apostle Paul’s words, and in the same chapter he continues to give a whole list of dark disgusting stuff none of us should have anything to do with. A regular rogues gallery of evil.
And here’s the thing: a lot of them have to do with how we treat each other. Often, the spark for such things comes from people who simply see life a little differently than we do. (Imagine that.)
Naturally, I’m above all that. Of course I am. I’ve been “in the way” for years, which must count for something… right?
And yet, those dark thoughts and emotions still creep in now and then. But here’s the catch. They are not just innocent, justifiable cries of my own mistreated, human heart. They are fiery darts, aimed to poison the mind and weaken my faith. Not good. Definitely not good. Time to put on the armour. Time to hide under the wings of the Almighty, because the real enemy is not those people.
The real enemy… is the enemy.
I am sure you’ve been in the way a long time too. But maybe, just maybe, we both need to step out of the way and learn what it really means to fight the good fight of faith. That’s what this week’s story is all about. I hope it brings a smile to your face, and the conviction not to let dark thoughts walk all over you.
Have a wonderful weekend, filled with true happiness, real joy, and a host of beautiful thoughts from our wonderful Shepherd.
Blessings
JK
The Valley Of Vindication
By J.K. Stenger
–
“Why do I have to cross this valley, Lord?”
His knowing smile said it all.
Trust me. It’s for your good.
I sighed. That meant a difficult crossing, but I knew He was right. His presence never failed and I rested in the security of his embrace.
So why worry? Had I not learned to follow Shepherd implicitly?
And yet …
Did I really trust Him? All the time?
I recalled Peter’s boastful claim—his emphatic pronouncement that he would never deny Shepherd—only to find out just hours later how simple maidservants could bring out his cowardice.
The harsh crow of the rooster, a sound like a trumpet of failure, pierced the morning air, shattering his pride. Despite his boasts, he only followed the Master from afar.
Was I any better?
But before I could come up with a good reason to change Shepherd’s mind about this valley, He had already taken the descent and was well on his way into the valley.
I followed begrudgingly.
A signpost announced, “The Valley of Vindication.”
Why that name and why cross here? I was already vindicated and forgiven. I’d been in the way for over fifty years and knew a thing or two about such things. I shrugged my shoulders. Whatever.
Shepherd had just disappeared behind a boulder.
I strained my eyes to see if I could still see Him, but no … He had vanished. Where did He go? Cupping my hands around my mouth, I yelled, “Shepherd, where are you?”
Nothing.
I searched behind a rock, climbed a tree for a better view and even went up a hill, but I couldn’t find him. I scolded myself for being so preoccupied that I missed seeing where he went. I should have learned by now to focus on what mattered, instead of on myself. Regardless, I had to press on toward the sacred mountain. Surely, Shepherd would meet me again at the end of this valley.
“Hey, you?”
A voice sounded from behind, followed by hysterical laughter. A shifty-looking fellow emerged from behind the rock formation where I’d been searching for Shepherd.
My heart skipped a beat. I knew who that was.
Marcus Mockus.
He was the one who had ridiculed my faith, who had written about me on Facebook, Twitter and a lot of other sites. His words, sharp as shards of glass, still stung. I recalled his accusations about my moral failures, the jeers at my faith and my so-called ignorance in following Shepherd.
At the time, I had looked up at Shepherd’s calm eyes and knew what these eyes told me: Justus, let it go.
But not now. Shepherd was nowhere near and instantly dark waves of anger rose from jagged crevices in my soul. I wished all kinds of wickedness on that smug little man. A wave of foul inspiration, chilling in its implications, washed over me as I plotted ways to repay him.
Throw him in a pit? Break his computer?
But as I pondered my options, I felt something growing on my back. Couldn’t quite see what it was, nor could I shake it off, but it was heavy and unpleasant. It stifled my every move.
Marcus Mockus, apparently well aware of my intentions to deal with him in a most unbiblical way, seeing how Shepherd was nowhere near to keep me in check, wavered. Doubt flashed over his face and to my joy, he decided to leave.
Victory. So far, so good; although the added burden on my shoulders was most irritating. Well, I just had to keep going. Shepherd would help me later.
I walked on, though not as fast as before. As a gentle wind ruffled my hair, I noticed a man on the side of the road.
He lazily leaned against a stone while holding a bottle of beer and seemed not in the least interested in making any progress.
As I neared and observed him, a shock coursed through my body. I knew that fellow too. That was Cashmore Penn, my former employer who had taken advantage of me.
I had worked for him, but received no pay. As usual, Shepherd had supplied my need. Told me to catch a goldfish from Cashmore’s pond and when I did, there was a gold coin in its mouth to satisfy my needs. Although Cashmore had not learned a thing.
But now, since Shepherd was not around, I could still teach him a thing or two.
Violent thoughts about revenge, rage and righteous retribution grew up like weeds, and … so did the pack on my shoulders. My breath came in short gasps and my knees buckled, as the load felt increasingly heavy and dug into my skin with each fiery thought I entertained.
Cashmore, seeing my weakened state, just laughed.
“On your way somewhere, Justus?” he said with a grin. “Looking for another job?”
I was now seething with raw anger, but the load on my back … It was crushing me.
Suddenly, terror replaced the confident smile on Cashmore Penn’s face. Downing the last of his beer, he tossed the empty bottle onto the road and mumbled, “Sorry, I have to run.”
Where did he go?
I looked up and to my great relief saw Shepherd again. “Shepherd,” I cried. “Where have you been? It’s been so horrible, and I was all alone.”
The words died on my lips as I saw the serious look on His face. I instantly knew I had been tapping into wells He never intended for me to drink from.
I had failed.
Just like the Apostle Peter.
But as I looked into His eyes, I detected warmth and to my great relief I knew His love for me had not changed, not in the least.
“You weren’t alone,” He said in a soft voice. “I’ll never leave nor forsake you. Not even for a minute. But you needed to cross this valley. You see, you’ve prided yourself for so long on being ‘in the way’, but you haven’t really been ‘following the way.’”
“O, Shepherd,” I pleaded. “I believe, but help me with my unbelief.”
“I will,” He said. “After all, am I not the Author and the Finisher of your faith?” A knowing smile played around his lips as He added, “But that’s why we had to cross this valley. You can’t fight darkness in your own strength. If you don’t wear your armour, you are no match for the powers of darkness.”
I understood. When would I ever learn?
“Shepherd?” I asked at last in a low voice, “There’s this strange weight on my back… will You take it away?”
“What load?” He asked. “I see no burden.”
I reached for the heavy pack I’d been carrying, but my hand landed on cold, solid steel. My breastplate! The burden was gone, and in its place was my armour.
My dark anger was gone too.
I still heard Marcus Mockus and Cashmore Penn shouting and arguing in the distance, but I didn’t care. They had their reward, and I was crossing forward to mine. The valley now lay behind; the holy hill was ahead. Shepherd walked on, steady and sure and I followed, unafraid.
I was not alone. Never had been.
Great stuff, as always!
Thanks Deb