The face of
The wise man Solomon said, “Is there a thing of which it may be said, See, this is
new? It has already been in days of old, which were before
us”
(Ecclesiastes 1:10). Immorality is not a new dish that
man has dined on the past few years. The challenge to morality has been going on
since the Garden of Eden when Satan said to Eve, “Has God indeed said”
(Genesis 3:1). As a society
As people of God it is important to “discern the
weather” and be prepared for the coming storm. On the horizon clouds of
immorality, worldliness, persecution and the godless armies of the devil are
gathered. They sweep across the land even now but a greater conflagration is
looming in the years to come. Opposing homosexuality, adultery, divorce,
religious division and the hosts of schemes of the wicked one will bring the
The message of the Revelation will become a dear
book for the saints of God. John the apostle portrays the struggle of the people
of God with the hosts of enemies like government, immorality, worldliness and
the battle of good and evil. For the saints of God who cry out, “How long”
(Revelation 6:9) the answer will come from the “King of Kings and Lord of Lords”
(Revelation 19:11-16). The battle will be long and the hardships difficult but
the victory is assured to those who are not defiled with the changing morality
in
---Kent
Heaton
Pennies in the
Road
It was just a penny. Not even a new penny.
Just an old, dirty worn one. I saw it on the sidewalk as I was walking to the
grocery store. I saw it like you do so many things as you busy yourself during
the day. I was barely conscious of seeing it. It was just “something” I noted
along my path like the car that I waited to pass before crossing the street or
the bird that landed by the puddle and flitted away. The penny was not an
important thing. It was just “something,” another
“thing.”
To stop and pick the penny up was too much of a bother. I had other
pennies in my pocket. Another penny would just be another coin to fall out of my
pocket when I sat in a chair or when I retrieved my keys. It was just another
object to empty from my pockets at home or, being overlooked, to wind up in the
washer or making a racket in the dryer. The penny was not worth the trouble. I
didn’t muse over all these things when I saw the penny. Those are just some of
the reasons that the penny received so little thought. The only thought that
went through my mind was “penny” before it was shoved aside by more important
thoughts.
I saw the penny again later—I don’t know how much later. It wasn’t worth
taking note of how much time had passed since I saw it last. I’m sure I had
passed its exact location many times without seeing it. This time it was on the
street. Perhaps I had even kicked it there unknowingly or, knocking it on
several occasions, moved it there in increments. I saw it and I thought “same
penny but now in the street” (or something like that) and I thought no
more.
Much later—again I know not how long—I passed the dirty, worn penny. It
had traveled to a place in the road that had been patched with asphalt. The heat
of the sun had softened the asphalt and the frequent passage of traffic over
that spot had pressed the penny into the asphalt until it was flush like a sort
of seal. I was hardly fascinated with the spectacle though I gave the penny a
fleeting second more thought than I had previously—not for the penny’s sake, but
only for its new predicament.
I fear that some people receive as much attention
from me as the penny now on the sidewalk, later in the road. I pass by them
often, maybe over them at times. I may even nudge or kick or step on
them—certainly not on purpose but just because my attention is elsewhere. I
don’t think of them as unimportant. I know better. I just don’t think of them at
all. To think of them is to be bothered with them and I’m bothered with so many
things already. If I carry their burdens along with my own that’s just something
else to fill up my already bulging pockets. That’s just something else to
fall out on the floor and interrupt my leisure when I try to sit. That’s
just something else to become tangled with other receipts, notes, memos, names
and phone numbers stuffed in my pockets. That’s just another thing to come out
in the wash—which is fine, but I have enough laundry of my own. It’s just
another problem to go round and round with a racket in my mind like a washed and
worn penny in the dryer.
It’s not that I muse all those thoughts about other people and their troubles. Those are just a few of the reasons why I give so little thought to them at times. Sometimes I only think “person” and go on my way. They are just another “someone” like the so many “someones” and “somethings” that are in my path—the “car” that I must wait to pass, the “bird” that drinks from the puddle, or the “penny” on the asphalt. I’m afraid sometimes such people fall off the sidewalk and into the traffic without my notice—maybe even on my account. It’s not until I just happen to look—not because I was looking for them, but just because I was looking around—and see that they’ve become pressed into one of the ruts on the road. “Now they’ve done it,” I think. They’ve gotten themselves stuck, and I can do nothing to help, lodged as they are. Wonder why they never asked for help?” Then, my thoughts run on to other things. I gave them a fleeting more second’s thought than I had previously. I briefly pity them for their new predicament and walk on jingling the change in my pocket, oblivious to the pennies in the road.
“Lord, when did we see you hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger, or
naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not take care of You?” And He will answer,
“To the extent that you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not
do it to Me”
(Matthew 25:44-45). I didn’t drop the penny that
fell on the sidewalk and wound up in the road. I just didn’t pick it
up.
---Jason
Moore
Taken From Eastside Enlightener,
7/4/10