I Wander Off All the Time

I ride what is euphemistically called a cruiser bicycle. It has no hand breaks, no gears. It's a black Schwinn, with a few pink flowers on part of the frame. I love bike riding. As a kid, my bike was freedom, and I loved going fast. I remember one time turning too quickly into the back alley, and skidding on the cinders, taking layers of skin off the top of my right foot. Note to self: wear sneakers when biking. I am much more sedate now (read old and shaky!) but I still love the freedom a bike gives me to explore.

Sunday mornings early, before church and when the roads are empty, me and my cruiser take off. In one of my recent trips, I saw nature at her best: two momma ducks with about six ducklings. The mommas were setting a brisk pace heading to the pond, and the ducklings were madly waddling after them, in a regimental line. It was adorable. And instructive as I thought about how our Lord Jesus asks us to follow. Why is it, I ask myself, that a duckling knows it must follow its mother, and I wander off all the time, easily distracted from the main thing?

I picture Martha, who is hip deep in ministry struggles, overwhelmed by the crises and concerns that we all have faced as we try to minister in the church. She asks Jesus for help, and his answer penetrates to the center of the issue. Martha has focused on the noise, not the voice of her Savior (Luke 10:38–42). Her sister, Mary, was attending to Jesus’s voice, and I believe Martha took this lesson to heart. When her brother, Lazarus, died, Martha showed great trust in Jesus, even in the midst of such distracting and disorienting sorrow. She proclaims, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world” (John 11:27).