Sons of Disobedience

Today’s Thought Sons of Disobedience G. Ward

“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.” Ephesians 2:10

At 12 years old my parents divorced. My brother and I decided to reside with my father, while my 2 sisters remained with my mother. My Dad’s employment occupied the majority of his time. It allowed my brother and me far too much freedom for our unfledged mindsets. Bored to death one particular day, I decided to call (via telephone) what was a very good neighbor for us near our family home. This lady was altogether kind towards the entirety of our family, but her confronting my brother over a job incomplete (lawn care) incited me towards that to which many of you exacerbate; “blood is thicker than water!” She scolded my brother desiring to hear immediate contrition from him. My brother in his usual way lied through his teeth and she knew it. The camaraderie once shared with this lady and I immediately capsized. I loved my trifling brother and no one (outside of me) could talk to him as such!

Although this event took place 2 years prior to this phone call, my having been a son to disobedience raised its ugly head that day (cf. Ro.12:17, 1 Co. 13:5-6). For what seemed to be a lifetime (5 minutes) on the telephone, I sought to disguise my voice in what was supposed to be a crank call (revealing the treachery of my heart, including the use of profanities) whereby at the end of this horrific discourse she replied, “Ok Gregory, you have a good day!” Hanging up immediately, I stared out in space without blinking for the next 2 hours.

Years later, after I married and had children, I sojourned to this woman’s house to pay homage. Her hospitality was as it always had been (very encouraging). She proceeded to ask a host of questions concerning my life. I called for my family to exit the car so they could meet this lady instrumental in the best I had presented. Her being elderly didn’t desire we leave until the last question. The lady asked, “Gregory, what do you do for a living?” Forgetting about the most profane conversation a child could have had with an adult, I replied un-hesitately, “I’m a Pastor.” Silence never seemed so loud. We gathered ourselves while exiting the home I once loved (across the street from my family home), to never see or hear from Ms. Powell again. My prayer is that she didn’t die thinking of all Pastors as she thought of me (cf. Eph 2:10). Happy Monday!