So don’t you see that we don’t owe this old do-it-yourself life one red cent. There’s nothing in it for us, nothing at all. The best thing to do is give it a decent burial and get on with your new life. God’s Spirit beckons. There are things to do and places to go.
This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike “What’s next, Papa?” God’s Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. Romans 8:12-15 (MSG)
I often glance back over my shoulder to view the road behind me. Not to dwell, for there’s no value in dwelling on what can’t be undone. A quick glance, however, reminds me of lessons learned and short cuts gone awry that made for long, painful delays. I need the occasional perspective. It helps me gauge my current position, and often provides wisdom for choosing my next steps.
Today, as I read, I glanced back and remembered long stretches of time tending to things dead. It’s tragic how we try to breathe life into a rotting corpse; how we hoist a decomposing cadaver onto our back and carry it around with us. We can’t really go anywhere, because the weight and responsibility of a dead man around our neck. You can’t really travel with the dead man. He requires constant tending. It takes a lot of time and energy to hide the stench. And, sometimes you just have to keep him out of sight. So, pulling him in and out of the closet requires that you stick pretty close to the closet.
Tending the dead and the grave pretty much robs you of the opportunity to travel.
“Lord, I’ll follow you. But first, let me bury…”
“Follow me,” Jesus said, “Let the dead bury their own dead.”
I glance back at a lesson learned in time. When I finally walk away from the corpse and the grave tending that goes with it, all sorts of new places and possibilities open up on the horizon. With the burden lifted and clean, crisp wind of fresh air filling my lungs, I become giddy with child-like anticipation. “What’s next, Papa?” I asked God.
“Walk with me,” He said with a smile and a wink as He pulled out a tattered, well-worn copy of a Dr. Seuss’ book from His coat. He reads as we walk away from the grave:
Kid, you’ll move mountains!
So…be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ale Van Allen O’Shea,
you’re off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So…get on your way!