Tread carefully outside the Amen door where Jesus’ name has sealed the fellowship of daily grace and Satan’s grasp awaits a more attractive prize. Where the concierge of wandering minds offers the personalized services of deep-seated imaginings, and the burdens of life transition the sanctuary into a temple of forgetfulness. Where the cares of the moment redirect the softened spirit to the hardness of the outside buzz. Freshly bended knees, crackling with arthritic friction, call for an immediate sympathetic reflection and steal the moment of grace where knees and pain were simply nonexistent. Where imperfection seizes the shallow roots of commitment and swiftly moves our thoughts from blessed to barely grateful. Where unselfish plans took “you-turns” and colorful prayers faded into doubt. Severed; kinship lost in grievance, widens the chasm and strands our souls across the waters from His Presence. In a moment, in an instant of indulgence the promise of the day drifts until we call out for rescue.
Knowing that a roaring lion prowls the outer edges of our deepest fellowship evokes a fervent prayer for safe refuge on the other side of Amen.
“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” 1 Peter 5:8 (NKJV)
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