Originally published through Doorway Publishing
Old Highway 66 still screams. Massive semi-truck tractor trailers share the busy road with nostalgia seekers cruising in 57 Chevy’s, 1960 250 GTOs, and 1990 Dodge Vipers as they barrel across America’s highway on the tiny 4-lane ribbon of black asphalt. Dotted along this popular freeway lies small towns full of novelty shops, greasy-spoon diners, and sleazy motels that are silhouetted by minigolf courses filled with Dinosaurs and Egyptian Pyramids as featured attractions.
In between each and every town are long lonely strips of open country where the noonday sun shines hot and yellow, feeding the wild grass and prairie lands that border both sides of the road with warm rays of delight. Joshua King lives right off the highway with his family fifteen miles west of Santa Fe. He and his wife wanted to get away from the big city so they built a three-bedroom house right off a large patch of land bordering the busy interstate. The front yard is long and green leading up to a quaint ranch dwelling that has a large front deck where Joshua likes to drink his ice tea as he watches the golden sunset fade away in the western sky.
One cool evening in the middle of June when the sun was getting ready to set, Joshua was again drinking some tea as his two energetic children were trying to catch evening fireflies that were circling around the front lawn. Each blinking beacon that they caught was put in an old clear mason jar with a metal top that had four holes poked on top. Johnny was his oldest, a young five-year-old boy; he was born to run. Sally his younger sister liked to stick close to her dad near the first porch step because the noise of the distant highway traffic reminded her of a firebreathing dragon ready to strike. But Johnny loved the chase, his goal was to catch as many of the flashing insects as he could before bedtime, often forgetting the warning from his dad to stay far from the freeway.
On this same night, Timmy, the neighbor boy came out of his house eating a vanilla ice cream cone while a rusty screen door slammed shut behind him. He stood on the gravel driveway next to the King house watching Johnny zig-zagging after the dancing pricks of light that blinked on and off as they floated above the lush green lawn. Timmy wanted in on the fun so he took two final licks of the dripping white cream before he tossed the rest of the soggy cone behind two small juniper bushes lining the side of his house.
Smash!! A shock of crunching metallic sound caused Joshua to drop his glass of tea and immediately stand up to see what caused the noise out in front of his lawn. He could make out a vague image of two twisted cars that were piled in a heap behind a swirling cloud of smoke on the far lane of the busy highway directly in front of his house. Johnny and Timmy took off and ran to the noise because they wanted to get closer to see the sight of the wreck.
“Johnny, get back here!” Yelled Joshua, “Stay away from the road. The traffic is dangerous and cars are roaring by.” Johnny didn’t listen, and Timmy was running fast to catch up. “Johnny, stop son, stop!!!” Joshua jumped off the front deck and began to chase his five-year-old. Even though the boys were getting closer to the highway Joshua, with his long strides, was quickly gaining ground. “Johnny, Timmy, stop!” The boys were 20 yards off the edge of the road as giant semis were drowning out Joshua’s warning by their honking horns and rusty brakes which were squealing heavy to a shuddering halt.
Joshua saw that both boys were not slowing down. He screamed one last time, “Boys! Stop!” They kept going and they were nearing the edge of the road. Joshua knew his son was his first responsibility. With an extra burst of speed he caught Johnny five feet from the edge of the black asphalt, Timmy kept going.
The Father and Son skidded to a bloody stop on the gravel of their drive. Both of them landed elbow first, ripping open deep red gashes into the outer layers of skin on their forearms and knees. Johnny was crying, and Joshua’s face blazed red with anger, “Darn you son!” Cried Joshua, “Why don’t you ever listen? You were inches away from running out onto the street. You could have been killed.”
Timmy found that his momentum carried him stock-still into the middle of the freeway. He had a front-row seat to see the exciting carnage of the crash. It was thrilling.
Just then, an ear-splitting screech sounded in the middle of the road. A flash and bang sounded. Timmy lay broken and dead under the axel of a small family sedan that was skidding to a stop on the other side of the road. A trail of smeared blood shone red.
Life happens fast. When trauma occurs, it is often carried out in a moment. No time to think, only react. But what if we were able to slow down the action and had the time to evaluate the events? I think we would see things differently and we would understand more. Let me show you.
(1) When the crash occurs, the curiosity of the boys is awakened. They want to see some excitement, something new was happening, they might get to see some gore. Fireflies are fun, but not dangerous. Don’t we all want to live on the edge? We all want something to pierce the veil of the mundane, and when our attention is aroused we are quick to react. We want to see.
(2) Dad is watching. His first concern is for his children, but he also cares about his neighbors. He is benevolent, drinking tea, and enjoying the evening. Before the action begins, the pleasantness of chasing fireflies is so calming, isn’t it? God made a good world. One to be enjoyed and relished. Grace is like fireflies in the cool of a beautiful night, underserved but wonderful to behold.
(3) Chaos ensues. Dad is provoked. So he stands and warns. His warnings at the moment sound harsh, even uncaring — he raises his voice, it is loud. And warning always comes with conditional dos and don’ts. They are clauses of simple logic, “If you listen you will live, if you don’t you may die.” As Proverbs 4:10 says, “Listen, my son, accept what I say, and the years of your life will be many. I guide you in the way of wisdom and lead you along straight paths.” A good dad always warns.
(4) The momentary thrill often drowns out the warnings. The boys kept running. The excitement propelled them. Humans have a will, but often that will is driven by desire instead of logic. What is seen as independent choice is often momentary exhilaration and a mad hunt for the thrill. The boys did not hear the dad, it was not the dad’s fault, and in our world, the Father is often ignored. Feeling rules the feet.
(5) The dad chases. He is not idle, he is not stoic, he runs. He jumps off the porch and runs. God has been running after us since time began. He sent his Son to chase us. He keeps yelling.
(6) Those who are his own he catches. At the moment of the catch, it looks harsh — a dad tackling a son — suffering and discipline in the moment. A few angry words. But the anger is love, not disdain. The torn skin is the result of rebuking and stopping the motion that will eventually kill. The crying is salvation.
(7) Those who ignore the warnings and are not his own, see this as an allowance to play in the street. They are not stopped by dad, but they get an actual taste of the excitement. They get to go farther than the children of the dad. They are more dangerous. So thrilling. Is it not wonderful to not have a strict God holding you back from doing everything you have ever wanted to do? You get to play in the street.
(8) Destruction is coming if you chose to play in the street. Massive machines are barreling down at you at break-neck speed. Who do you think you are to avoid it? Scripture says, “There is a way that seems right to a man but the end thereof is the way of death.”
We are living in a culture of death because people think they can play in the street with no consequence. God, the Good Father, warns, but those who are not his keep running. They think they are free, not being tackled by the rules and laws of God’s holy word. They imagine themselves to be living to the fullest, experimenting with perversions, and immoral hubris abounds. PRIDE they call it.
God is very clear in Romans 2:4-5, I just wish people would heed the warning of the Good Father, “Do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance? But because of your stubbornness and your unrepentant heart, you are storing up wrath against yourself for the day of God’s wrath, when his righteous judgment will be revealed.”
I just wish people would listen.
