Our driveway is beginning to break up. It’s amazing how small a space a seed needs in order to root and grow a weed. The drive is riddled with grass and dandelions and other undesirables. Must get that weed killer out again, though it takes a lot of effort to spread it down the length of our drive.
Then there are the places where tree roots are pushing up from beneath, cracking and buckling the asphalt into small hills. And there’s one sinister pothole halfway down the drive, where the rocks seem to be imploding, the asphalt disappearing. Maybe it’s just the result of over thirty years of regular use by cars, motorbikes, and feet, and the occasional oil tanker or coal lorry.
Prepare the way for the Lord. Get ready. Gosh, if I thought Jesus were coming up the driveway, I’d be out there with the weed killer like a shot. I’d be filling in the holes myself if I could! I might be getting in a tree surgeon to remove the offending trees and get rid of the troublesome roots. I might even be calling in contractors to lay another layer of asphalt – whatever the cost.
I’m afraid there’s a lot of weeds and potholes in my life, and sometimes I fear that I make arrogant assumptions that Jesus doesn’t mind stepping over them. They’re not really so big, are they?
Hmm. I think they are. I think I need to call in the expert, the Holy Spirit, to prick out the weeds, level the buckled ground, fill in the potholes, and make the way to my heart straight for the King to come in on.
Unrolling a red carpet over the top of a mess might only serve to trip Him up. Besides, He’s not the sort of king who comes in on a red carpet, is he? He went into Jerusalem on a donkey, not a beautiful horse.
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