[votivesoul]

This is a true story:

When I was a kid, I could run really fast. Like, faster than most adults, beat all of the older kids in the neighborhood, fast.

But I had a problem. I never once thought twice about crossing the street in front of moving cars because I always knew I was fast enough, or so I believed.

I did this all the time, much to my mom's consternation. She repeatedly ordered me to slow down, look both ways, and not run out in front of cars.

Sometimes she punished me when she caught me doing this. One time, I ran across the street to the ice cream truck, and ran back, right in front of a car, in front of my mom, and she took my treat away. There was also a lot of yelling and whatever else I ignored on my quest to disobey my mother.

But then, one day, as my brother and I were playing with a ball on the sidewalk in front of the house, the ball went past me and bounced down into the street. I naturally ran after it, without thinking, without slowing down, without looking both ways. I ran out in front of a school bus.

The bus driver panicked when she saw me, and I panicked, too. I threw myself to the ground, like sliding into second base, to stop myself from getting run over. I was wearing shorts and I had thrown myself down in our old, broken up, asphalt driveway. I tore my knees up something fierce.

I was able to get up and cautiously go and retrieve the ball. My mom cleaned my wounds, bandaged me up, and soon enough, my knees healed.

I never ran out in front of a car again. I didn't dare. My disobedience had finally caught up with me, and it made me pay a cost.

But the cost wasn't scraped up knees, or a lasting fearful impression of the bus heading right for me.

It was that I never trusted my ability to run fast enough to cross a street if a car was coming.

Sure, I became more practical, more cautious, or level-headed, you might say. But in gaining those things, I also lost some courage, some daring, some understanding of my own abilities, and what I was capable of. In short, my disobedience to my mom, my willingness to risk life and limb by running out in front of cars, ruined my faith. Had I simply always obeyed my mom in the first place, there would have never been such a costly lesson. There would not have been any loss of trust or reliance upon my ability to run faster than anyone I knew.

When we disobey God, we lose something. Our disobedience costs us our faith. If we would just simply continually obey God, we'd never second guess or doubt or wonder or be too afraid to do what He has called us to do.

But when we give into our flesh and the temptations thereof, and we transgress by disobeying, our ability to trust and rely upon the Lord is weakened. We become more cautious, a bit slower to move, more "practical", more "level-headed", even if or when God is calling for us to be quick and run head-long into His will for our lives. Small things like cuts and bruises will heal. Even the spectre of some scare will fade with time. But the person it causes you to become can stay with you forever, if you disobey.