How Did I Get Here?Sýnishorn

“Pay much closer attention…lest we drift.” After reading those words from Hebrews 2 one day, I had a thought: Perhaps this is how I found myself not wanting to keep going. Had I quit paying close attention? If so, to what? Have I drifted? If so, from what?

“Pay attention, pay much closer attention.” I had heard words of warning like this before. All throughout my childhood. I learned to speak Greek before I spoke English, and my mother always spoke to us in Greek. When she wanted to really get something across to my two brothers and me, she would use the same words as the writer of Hebrews: perissoteros prosechein. When she spoke these words, she was telling us to be careful and pay extra attention. Her tone would be urgent, serious, instructive, and commanding of our focus—especially when it was about something critical to our well-being, like when she taught us to look both ways before running after a ball that had rolled into the street. Or when she wanted us to stay put on a bench and be safe while she tended to some business at a bank or in a store.

Perissoteros prosechein.

She said it when we learned to ride our bikes. Walk to school. Run across the neighborhood to a friend’s house.

Perisoteros prosechein.

“Pay extra attention,” my mother said.

“Pay extra attention,” the writer of Hebrews said.

Why pay extra attention? Lest you drift. It’s as though the writer knew the more familiar we became, the less attention we would pay—to God, his Word, and his ways. He knew the more we learned, the more likely we would take it all for granted—and miss the awe of our salvation.

Pay attention.

Lest you drift.

He was speaking to all of us. He knew that any of us at any stage of life could find ourselves in a place we never intended to be.

When we begin to drift in any area of our lives, it’s subtle. Hardly even noticeable. Barely detectable. It’s not a deliberate step we take, but more like a gradual slip. Perhaps as we make small concessions or compromises. It isn’t because we aren’t strong or haven’t walked with Christ for very many years. It’s something that just happens, but once it does, if we don’t drop anchor in Jesus once more, it will take us places we never intended or wanted—emotionally, physically, relationally, or spiritually. There is no aspect of our lives that is immune from drifting and no single person that is not prone to drift.

Sometimes life happens faster than we can run our race. We can’t control everything that happens to us or around us. We can’t control the decisions others make that deeply affect us. Even if we’ve walked with Christ for years and allowed him to do a deep healing work inside of us, we can still find ourselves in a place we never dreamed of. A place we never intended to be.

If that’s where you are in any area of your life, then I have good news for you. You are not a failure for feeling like you do. God loves you. God is for you. And he is working all things together for your good and his glory. He has a hope and a plan for your future. You don’t have to perform for his love and acceptance. Best of all, you don’t have to figure out how to get out of the place where you drifted to all by yourself.

Our Heavenly Father is eager to help us when we drift spiritually. He’s always watching. Always ready. Always wanting to get us from where we are to where we need to be. No matter how far the currents have taken us.