When My Bus Pulls Up

While I waited at the transit station for my son’s bus to arrive, another bus pulled up. As the door opened, several people of various ages descended with various disabilities, either limping, walking with a cane or a walker. Of course my mind automatically connected the physical with the spiritual.

I thought about how we come to God sometimes. I know of a man who is in his 60‘s; in his youth, he did about as much as the world had to offer. After having two knee surgeries, cancer, the death of a daughter and a wife, he is crippled in more ways than one. He’s in church now, wants to be a deacon, but feels he doesn’t have the physical ability to serve.

We allow the world to beat us up and have its hey day in our lives. We give to the enemy our days of youth and vitality. We operate in the mentality of “Eat, drink, be merry for tomorrow we die” (Luke 12:19).

Then our bus arrives. We are aged, crippled, maimed, disabled . . . and our minds turn to Him, the One who called out to us during the world’s heyday but either we could not or did not hear. We turn to the One who chorused, (Ecclesiastes 12:1). But we didn’t heed the voice because we were enjoying the pleasures of sin.  We didn’t realize that the pleasures lasted only for a season. (Hebrews 11:12)

What is so amazing, however, is that when the world chews us up and spits us out, the Lord is there to catch us or pick us up and take us just the way we are  . . . with varying disabilities. In that state, there is usually never a lifetime to clean us up, but when we turn our hearts and minds toward him, He will never reject us.

I don’t know where you are. Maybe you have made a commitment to serve him, but not totally sold out. Maybe you have said yes to him, but your mind has not been transformed. Maybe you are limping in your faith or on a cane as you walk out sanctification or relying upon a walker to get you to the point of trusting God. It doesn’t matter. He loves you too much to reject you.

PRAYER: Abba, that’s what I love about you! You wait on us to wait on you! You see beyond the cane, and the limp and the walker and you love me, regardless of how much of my life I offer you. My prayer, Abba, is that in whatever season I say yes to you, let me offer you the BEST of that season . . . because I know that when my bus pulls up, you’ll be there . . . waiting.