When I was a teenager, for the most part, if my momma said to do something I did it. My curfew, as I’ve stated before, was 10:30, because there’s nothing to do after then. Anyway, one night she showed me that being home on time meant, actually being IN the house, not sitting in the driveway.
That night, I had went out galavanting with my friend Peyge. I’m sure all we were doing was drinking (a little), smoking cigarettes, and listening to NWA. Yes, he’s to blame for my love of rap music, being that, Peyge was 🎶”Vanilla Ice” before Vanilla Ice was cool🎶. Just for the record, I listen to Christian rap now, not gangster rap.
Anyway, I thought I was doing good. I was home, and in the driveway, by curfew. Peyge and I were just sitting in the car, most likely having a deep conversation about how meaningful the lyrics to Straight Outta Compton were, and how we could SO relate, when my mom stuck her nosy head out the door and told me it was time to come inside. Being that, obviously, I knew more than she, I ignored her and went on about my business. She came out several times and finally gave up. When I was ready to come in, much to my surprise, my mom had locked me out of the house!! Locked out of my own house! The nerve of that woman!
Fortunately Peyge had been nice enough to sit there and make sure I actually went in the house, otherwise, I would’ve had to spend the whole night alone in my car. What kind of monster locks her eldest child out of her home?!? What kind of twisted mind thinks of such torture? I could’ve been kidnapped, or abducted by aliens, or torn to pieces by rabid dogs!
I’ll tell you what kind of person does such things. The kind that expects obedience, that’s what kind! The truth is, she had given me more chances than I deserved. I should’ve come in the first time she asked. However, I have often wondered why she would leave me alone in a car with a hormonal, teenage boy? Maybe she wasn’t expecting Peyge to stay, or maybe she knew that he would be a gentleman, and he most certainly was. Mom was always good at reading people. Either way, I learned a valuable lesson that night. Delayed obedience is disobedience.
That’s how it is with God too! He expects us to obey Him the first time. Sure, just like my mom was that night, He’s patient with us, but after awhile, we distance ourselves from His presence; because sin causes a separation between us and God. After awhile, you’ll start to feel as if you’ve been locked out of your home, and just like I was the night my mom locked me out, you’ll start to feel scared (because you know there’s going to be consequences) and alone.
It’s always best to do what we’re asked to do, the first time we’re asked. You never know if you’ll be given another chance. Plus, you could miss out on a huge blessing. Even if what we’re asked to do requires sacrifice (like discontinuing a very important discussion on gangster rap), the reward far outweighs the consequences of disobedience.
Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and still don’t do what I say? Some people come to me and listen to me and do what I say. I will show you what they are like. They are like someone who builds a house. He digs down deep and sets it on solid rock. When a flood comes, the river rushes against the house. But the water can’t shake it. The house is well built. Luke 6:46-48