01/15/2015
I walked slowly this morning, taking in the coolness of the air and watched its reversal as it made its way back and into the atmosphere as small puffs of smoke. The fall foliage, lining the dirt road, held me with its beauty in an orchestration of color. The road, itself a canvas of pigment, had quite the collection of leaves as all around they fell, one by one, slowly cascading down with little care as to their destination and or demise. I could not help but be a bit distraught at the thought that this backdrop of fall color would, with its magnificence, soon be barren; yet that too, in its own distinct fashion, would surely hold some of the same splendor in someone’s eye.
Progressing further, still at a leisurely pace, the coolness now gripped me with a greater level of cold. Not too far in the distance, I heard the crack of a whip and the once overabundance of trees suddenly disappeared into the background. Approaching the now open land, the wooden fence, in desperate need of repair, steadied my leg as I leaned upon the withered wood. I was instantly taken in by the scene that played itself out before me.
Approximately 50 yards away, the air, around the team of oxen and its driver, was filled with the same expulsion of smoke with a frequency and volume far exceeding that of my minor puffs of such. The driver, an imposing dark figure, held the reins around his upper torso, down his arms and into his hands and steadied the plow as it dug deep into the ground that followed the pair of lumbering oxen. Periodically the unforgiving land, thirsting for moisture, full of rock and debris would hold true, the plow would falter and he, behind and unseen, would use the reins to smack the backs and tiny wisps of smoke rose from their now scarred and calloused backs.
The oxen, one older and more emaciated than the other, would snort and seemingly gasp for air as the younger pulled more of the weight. I stood watching the oxen, now exhausted, for how long I am not sure. The elder oxen looked as if each step might be his last; life had been taken from him one day at a time until little strength now ran through his timeworn body. Soon he surely would be replaced with that of a younger beast and the cycle continues, year after year, generation after generation…
As with any parent, we find ourselves, in the midst, battling for our children so much more these days. That which swirls around them, that encompasses their very lives, no matter what the culprit, seems beyond overwhelming and truly exhausting at times. Yet, while in the very throngs of the ferocious battle, He never fails to speak encouragement in and through His word. He gives us a glimpse into the very tactics of the enemy, allowing us opportunity to glean perspective that has eluded us aforetime.
Isaiah 58: 6 “Is not this the fast that I have chosen, to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break every yoke?
Could it be any clearer? There is one, cold and callous, that desires to take the reins early in our lives, forever behind and unseen, using us for his purposes, without forewarning and seemingly unaware, he whips us into submission over time. We become heavily burdened with those things in life that, he knew, with a surety, could encumber and weigh us down in our flesh. (He has experiential knowledge with previous unsuspecting participants and generations of young people.) We have carried them for so long the sting of the whip has now become common place; without feeling we trod, slowly, weakened in our physical beings and further still withered in our spiritual being. We are scarred, scored, blemished, disfigured, and mutilated to the point of unrecognition. When, as time has passed, he has sucked every ounce of our energy and usefulness, he simply casts us aside and begins to, unfortunately, look for the next unsuspecting beast of burden; our children.
There are those this day reading this letter that have been a participant, willing or unwilling, in the plans of the enemy to destroy their lives. Some may be thinking, it is too late for me, I am too far gone. Surely, God the Father has no desire for anyone that turned from Him so many years ago. The sting of the reins has long been dulled and the feeling, of any emotion, is eerily absent. What could He want with a man or a woman of such character, washed up and with little life left?
Others still, had once tasted of His love, and somehow, find themselves wondering…what happened? How could I fall back into the very depths of darkness and allow him, the enemy, access into my life once again? The driver, gripping the reins tightly, with uncanny precision, slaps them across our beings and the sting returns. Our addictions, some worse than others but nonetheless binding, hold us in an unrelenting grip and the yoke once again finds its way around our necks. We find ourselves trudging through a field of rock and gasping for the breath of life.
Then there are those, still young, invincible, and in their minds of immaturity are incapable of being bound, in any way, by this created figment of man’s imagination. They give him the reins freely and they simply are not aware that someday, when least expected, he will tighten the grip and refuse to release the captive young beast, or so he tells them. The years will pass quickly and they too will turn from young to old and as their energies subside within, the fight to overcome, diminishes as well.
Father, it is time, no matter the state and longevity of the bondage, to take a look behind us this day and recognize firstly who drives us, and for us, without delay, to acknowledge that “sin which so easily besets us.” Could it be drugs, alcohol, work, a man/woman, pornography, money, food, self, unforgiveness, anger, bitterness, disappointment, or possibly pride and the ego that accompanies it? Has the captivity, the imprisonment, the bondage, the oppression, the suppression and or the utter slavery to his desires reduced us to insignificance?
If we would answer yes Lord, let not these thoughts create a negative perspective within, nor let us allow guilt to overwhelm us to inaction, nor our shame to keep us paralyzed and repressed one day longer. I am reminded Father of two verses, spoken by your son Jesus, that scream with intensity this morning and the surety with which He spoke them gives us great hope, great comfort and ultimately your peace that you so long for us to walk in and experience.
Luke 4:18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor, he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised.”
Matthew 11:28-30 “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Father, we bow, in humility, at the foot of the cross, where the soil is moistened with the blood of your son Jesus, and accept these promises today!
I am most humbly yours,
Daniel