I didn’t get stuck in mud on a hillside—though I nearly did three times. I nearly ran out of gas—before the funeral time—but fuel was delivered to the field.
And so I ran.
I did not go the funeral where I knew that I should be.
Fifteen minutes after funeral’s begin, going through a washout, a CAN Bus cable pinches. All power and command to the planter is lost. I am dead in the field. That work we planned at the sacrifice of showing respect to another, and family, is lost. I drive from field to farm—thirty miles—to splice broken wires. I drive back…communication is still down.
We are down, dead in the water, and all the gain we thought we’d will failed—as expected—because we did not follow as God called, inviting through our hearts.
Like Jonah, we can run away, pretend not to hear—but it doesn’t go away. It is only new troubles on account of our disobedience—until we change and follow as we’re called.
Not only that, we did not finish wheat. A truck got into a bin, and all we thought was stored and saved away is exposed and pouring through torn metal of bin’s shell.
We knew what we should have done, but we were selfish and did not do. Now we deal with the judgment we’ve brought onto ourselves.
All so avoidable had we simply followed as God guided and encouraged.