The devotions this morning talk about obedience.
And not "eventual obedience".
Instant obedience.
Like when God says "do this" and it's supposed to be done like now.
Kinda like firemen. The alarm goes off and . . . they look up from the TV and say, "The shows almost over. Only 20 minutes and we'll get right on that."
Thaaaat doesn't happen.
It's immediate response.
Feet be flyin'.
Huh.
So why would someone respond instantly? React without thinking?
Do something possibly very stupid when all logical convention says "uh-uh"?
I look out the window, pulling on the Elixir. The Morning Star is over the trees by Grandma Alice's. There's just a blush of dark blue on the eastern horizon.
Yeah. That just might be it.
My mind flashes back to one of the Lethal Weapon TV movies.
(Wow - really strong Elixir this morning.)
Riggs and Murdock take on this wacko in armor touting a flamethrower. They're pinned down behind the car, the wacko is coming toward them spouting flames and Riggs says to Murdock - "Take off your clothes, Rog!"
Granted, Rog, as you and I would likely do, says "Why?!"
"I need to turn him so I can shoot the valve off the tank on his back. I need him to turn."
And then the kicker.
"And, Rog, flap your arms like a chicken."
So Rog, resplendent in athletic-T, boxer shorts, calf-length dress socks with garters, and nice black dress shoes, struts out from behind the only protection he has, bobbing his head, flapping his arms, and clucking.
Then the usual happens. The wacko turns, Riggs makes the impossible shot, one thing leads to another, and two blocks of the city blow up as Riggs and a shivering Murdock walk down the street in the rain.
And that's just the first 5 minutes of the movie.
So what made Rog do it?
The bigger question is what would make me do it?
Huh.
"Trust".
Murdock trusts Riggs to make the shot because he's seen him shoot.
Oh, nuts.
Now I'm getting kinda uncomfortable
If God asks me and you - we - to do something, will we trust Him enough to do it NOW?
Or do we hafta think about it?
Will He rip us off in a cruel cosmic joke - or will He draw us closer, make us more like Himself?
More like His Son.
What's He going to ask today? And what are we - am I - gonna say?
Huh.
Well . . . I think I might have to iron a clean pair of boxers.
Just in case.
Cluck-cluck, eh?