Every now and then my mom would be forced to fire a warning shot. It usually sounded like, “you’re gettin’ a little too big for your britches, missy”. For non-hillbillies, this means I had apparently forgotten my place in the order of things and was getting sassy (flippant). Mom didn’t take well to sassin’.
I’m a lot older now, and mom is with Jesus, but one thing hasn’t changed much. I still forget. I don’t get sassy with God (‘cept for that one time, but why dig up old dirt?), but I do tend to get too big for my britches once in awhile (just put that fat joke back in your pocket or I will get sassy on your self).
Sometimes I think I’m stronger than I really am. And then one day I try to leap a tall building, but I trip over the curb and land in a heap with my cape all twisted in a knot.
Sometimes I think I’m much smarter than I am. And then I jump into a conversation with people who actually finished high school, and inevitably one of them ends up staring at me with that “here’s your sign” look.
Sometimes I think I’m younger and more physically fit than I come even close to being. But when I can’t clean my house without taking a minimum of 2 “breaks” every hour to catch my breath, I begin to reconsider my delusions.
Sometimes I think I have a handle on sin. And then morning comes and my handle falls off. Again.
Humiliation. I like to think of it as God’s “warning shot”, delivered with compassion. Because God remembers what I tend to forget.
“…so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him; for He knows how we are formed, He remembers that we are dust…” (Psalm 103:13-14)
[Sidenote: A warning shot is only effective if the person being shot at is smart enough to have some fear.]
When the reality of my frailty becomes too big to be missed, He remembers. And in His compassion, He reminds me of who He is, rather than who I am.
He is my Father, and He is strong. He is not ashamed of my weakness, but rather, offers me His strength.
He is my Father, the source of all knowledge and wisdom. What I lack, He will give. I need only ask.
He is my Father, and He paid the price for my sin because He wants me with Him.
He is my Father, and He remembers.
And sometimes, when I forget, He fires a warning shot. With compassion.