06/18/2016
I sat, alone, though the throngs of inhabitants bustled in and around me, at the gate to our village, in a state of utter despair. The light wind blew its fading hint of heat, mixed with a small taste and tinge of dirt, across my face and within my beard as the coolness of the evening began to come forth. Tears of regret, tears of sorrow, tears of time wasted and tears of life revealed their earlier existence from the recognizable streams of “clean” down my dirtied face.
Pulling my tunic up and over my head brought the warmth I had enjoyed earlier in the day as the hours passed in contemplation of the absolute sinfulness of the place I called home. I looked out, as the sun, now waning fast and all but gone, out and into the approaching darkness, towards the distant mountains and noticed faint shimmers of light dancing irregularly as they moved closer towards me.
As the light came more definitive it was clear that the illumination was emanating from two men of God. I immediately rose and greeted them, humbling myself in a prostate manner, with my face towards the ground. My thoughts raced, unhindered and wildly, as I knew of the rampant sin which lurked, ever so near, just inside the gate and an all-encompassing shame engulfed my entire being. I immediately implored them to come to my home but they, with matching resolve, declined my offer. To make a bad situation worse they even had thoughts of staying outside and in the midst of the city; they obviously were oblivious to the debauchery that awaited them so very close.
I pleaded, once again, this time more vehemently to simply come home with me, to wash their feet, to rest and lodge there for the evening. They could then, early in the morning, arise and be on their way. To my grateful surprise they accepted and we quickly worked our way to my humble dwelling and I was cautiously confident that we had done so unnoticed under the cover of darkness.
We enjoyed a bit of unleavened bread, prepared in haste, and soon found ourselves tired and a bit weary from the day’s events. Without warning, a pounding upon the old wooden door, shook us from our leisure and a boisterous crowd, shouting with increasing volume, demanded that I surrender the two guests into their company so they could “know” them. My heart dropped and the shame that had earlier held me tightened its grasp upon me once again. Surely they were aware of the fear that gripped me knowing, all too well, of the wickedness now demanding their involuntary participation.
I, for a brief moment, as if unaccompanied, contemplated my earlier thoughts at the gate, of a life ineffective and without fruit, not only as a witness to my family but my inner circle of influence as well, in all things pertaining to the God that I had once walked with more closely. Another, more powerful pounding upon the door, ushered me back and into the present and without hesitation I opened the door rapidly, closing it behind me with the same level of swiftness.
The mob, obviously in a drunken state, could, nor would, attempt to hide the lust that their eyes possessed. Their mouths spewed, unhindered, sexually laced tirades of unimaginable desires for my two guests. In a panic, I offered my two virgin daughters, hoping this would somehow quench the yearning that was now reaching a crescendo. They, however, were insistent upon the two men and began to physically take their frustrations out and upon me. I felt a strong pull, from behind, and before I knew it the two men of God had dragged me back into my house and simultaneously struck the men outside with blindness.
With a tremendous urgency, the two men spoke, with clarity, as to their visitation and purpose. God would destroy Sodom and Gomorrah. I was commanded to reach out, immediately, to my family and anyone else that would listen to the pending judgment; little did they know I had no one, not a singular acquaintance, outside of my family and my heart sank.
I heard, as I slowly awakened out of my sleep, the two men mumbling amongst themselves yet it was still quite dark. I lay, disappointed, as the pleadings to my family fell on deaf ears just hours before. Their mocking, without limitations, brought more tears though they went unnoticed. Without warning I heard them, “Lot, arise, take thy wife and thy two daughters, which are here, lest thou be consumed in the iniquity of the city.”
I arose, sitting now on the edge of the bed, but was paralyzed with grief, with fear, incapable of moving as I dropped my head into my hands. I felt the strength of one of the men and he laid his hand upon mine, along with my wife’s hand, now standing beside me, but she fainted with the sternness and insistence of the request. The other man grabbed my two daughters, by their hands as well and before I knew it we, all, were carried, into the darkness and not in our strength. The chill of the morning took our breath and we gasped, trying to “take in” the enormity and severity of what now was transpiring without delay and quite quickly.
“Escape for thy life, look not behind thee, neither stay thou in the plain: but escape to the mountain lest thou be consumed” were the words spoken with great urgency. We fled, alone from our guests, deeper into the darkness, towards the backdrop of the mountains faint in appearance. As the sun began to rise, we heard from behind, sounds of tragedy of which we had never before heard. My wife, now overcome, from the cries and screams that carried over the distance, became beyond distraught. She wept for our other children calling each one of their names out in great agony and simply fell, exhausted, to her knees. I held her close and I could sense she was going no further; she looked deep into my eyes and without further hesitation and with greater resolve, turned her head ever so slowly and back towards the city though I begged and pleaded her not to.
I embraced her and the once soft flesh now hardened in my very arms. I let go, fearful, in despair and the distinct smell of salt accompanied the continual hardening of my wife to my utter disbelief. My daughters, now crying uncontrollably, reached down and grabbed my outer cloak and lifted me up and we continued on, fatigued, further still towards the mountains.
Father as I age and reflection becomes the greater part of my daily thought process, I too, as Lot, many times sit contemplating the unexpected meetings with those you would send across my path, the countless opportunities long since passed, and my specific circle of family and friends that have not witnessed your presence, in its wondrous fullness, in and through my life. I recognize the enemy wants this contemplation, this regret and doubt that will, if we allow such, to eat away at our joy and the glorious light that you wish to shine forth. The words of Paul to the Philippian’s well up within me as I tap away at the keyboard you have placed before me, “but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before,I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Father, Jesus noted that “we are the salt of the earth.” What a tremendous statement! I am mindful of the residue of salt, either after exiting the waters off of any coast, the windblown salt air that sticks itself to us, and or the unmistakable taste it leaves upon our lips. Your fullness, in the form of grace, of mercy, of peace, of compassion, of kindness, and of course love should be so “thick” that when they depart from the chance meetings that you have orchestrated with great care, those that you have allowed us to have fellowship with, they cannot help but recognize that residue of salt that lingers long upon their very beings. They should leave our presence, in an absolute awe, wondering “what the heck did they just encounter”? They should feel hope, they should feel encouragement, and they should feel all that you wanted them to experience specific to their individual needs. Jesus said “remember Lot’s wife” and I must confess, in my lack of understanding, I am not sure why we should do so other than to not look back, but rather “to press toward the mark” and to recognize that, her final state, a pillar of salt, is what we should be! Let today be the day we let go of bitterness, the day we let go of unforgiveness, the day we let go of anger, the day we let go of anything that hinders us from being simply pillars of salt stationary and in one place, but pillars of salt, walking without boundaries to the nations, to those amongst our circle of influence, and walking in our inheritance, as your children. We bow before you and we ask, in great humility, for yet more encounters Lord, more chance meetings, more crossing of paths, to anyone that you would choose to be in the midst of your presence as we humbly stand in thy stead.
Daniel