Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

My family has been running on the snap system for years, probably because neither my husband nor I ever learned to whistle loudly. For us, three snaps in quick succession is the signal. Focus on what you are doing. You are too far away from me in the store. Adjust your behavior. Give me your attention. Come here. Snap. Snap. Snap. It works for us. And, as our children have gotten older and need less behavioral adjustment, we’ve started using it simply to get one another’s attention. 

We have tried it with our dogs too. Time to go out. Get in the kennel. Come here. Be quiet. Snap, snap, snap. It worked lovely on the two previous pups who have now left us for their final resting place. Not so the two we have now. Sampson, a rescued blond retriever mix, and Delilah, a black lab and coon houd mix, have no time for the snapping. Or the clapping, the yelling, the crooning, or the whistling. They simply don’t listen well if there is anything else to do.

My precious puppies, whom I absolutely treasure, have the shortest attention spans in history. The proverbial gnat attention span exceeds theirs. If there is nothing else to look at, sniff, or distract, they will possibly adhere to the snapping. Not so if the neighbors are out in their yard, if there is a squirrel or bird dancing about the trees, if a turtle has decided to make the arduous trek across our back grass, or especially if Earl is out. 

Earl is the fluffy little dog across the back fence. If he weighs 10 pounds, it is due only to a heavy collar and tag. He’s super talkative. He’s full of himself. Maybe he has a death wish. Maybe he has one of those mirrors that makes you look larger than you are. Maybe he has watched Delilah be outsmarted by a squirrel and thinks he can do the same. I have no clue. Whatever his inspiration, he barks and charges that fence as if there isn’t a combined 150 pounds of canine muscle awaiting him on the other side. For Sampson and Delilah, Earl’s raucous barking is all they hear. It distracts them from obeying me and draws them into disobedience. 

 I’m not sure what it says about me that I just learned a lesson from my dogs! I struggle with distraction too. I’ve been interrupted about 45 times in 3 hours. Delilah has been extremely talkative. My phone has dinged. The washer has chimed. My mind is ruminating over conversations from yesterday. The notes I scribbled down for a future post are open beside me begging for more attention. The question of what I’m making for dinner is still plaguing my mind. About a minute ago, too distracted by the things around me to focus and write, I lowered my head to my hand, closed my eyes, and just like I have for so many days now, I prayed, “I don’t know what to do, but my eyes are on You.” 

And just like that, I was with Peter attempting to cross a storm crazed lake, walking on wild, wind-driven waves. When he left the boat he had great intentions. His eyes were locked on Jesus. His feet were solidly walking the fluctuating liquid of the waves. Then the distractions came. The wind whipped his cloak against his legs and snapped his hair into his face. A huge wave rolled the water walkway beneath his feet. It was startling. It was scary. It was distracting. He lost his focus. He lost his footing. He lost his faith. He nearly allowed the distractions to cost him his life. (Matthew 14:28-31)

I’ve been there. Been distracted. Often. There are a lot of things pulling at me for attention. Good, legitimate things. Life things that have to be done. There are also a lot of loud, obnoxious voices beating on me to accept their way of thinking, rubber stamp their ideals, follow their paths. Questionable thoughts. Dubious ideals. Treacherous paths. The temptation to focus on something other than Jesus is overwhelmingly strong. Admittedly, I don’t always keep my focus. I’m not as strong as Mary. 

Mary didn’t have a problem with distractions. Nothing on earth could pull her from the feet of Jesus. Nothing could keep her from listening to His voice. Not the nagging from Martha. Not the knowledge that things needed doing. Not the hustle and bustle of people working around her. Not the fact that she was likely sitting in a circle of men. Mary valued time with Jesus to the point that no distraction had the power to make her not listen, not come running at the sound of His voice. (Luke 10: 38-40) Somehow she had already learned the lesson Paul was trying to teach the Galatians when he wrote, “You were doing so well! Who distracted you and pulled you from obeying the true way?” (Galatians 5:7) 

That’s what distractions do. Impede our progress. Pull us away. Pull us under. Divert our attention. Divide our hearts. Distractions are cement shoes for our souls drowning us beneath the raging waves of temptation, fear, doubt, sin. They are the single greatest tool the evil one has to reroute our attention, affection, and faith from God. They come in every kind of packaging, the obvious and the obscure. The opinion of a neighbor, the twisted verbiage of news pundits, a television commercial. If it can distract you, it will. If it can keep you distracted, it will separate you from God, making you easy prey for temptation and sin. 

David is an excellent example. He was doing well too. Very well. Specifically chosen and blessed by God. Kept safe through several attempts on his life. Crowned king. Blessed with victory after victory. How could he possibly go astray? No one would think it could happen. In a fateful walk on the palace roof, he allowed distraction to lead him astray. His wandering eye caught and stayed on something that wasn’t his. Something pretty. In that small moment of distraction, Satan struck. David gave in to temptation, setting off a chain of sinful events we find appalling. Distraction led to lust, to adultery, to murder. He was doing so well, but he got distracted and wandered from the path of truth. (II Samuel 11)

It’s easy to shake our heads in dismay at David, to look at him with condemnation, even disdain. Truth be told, we are all right there with him. Maybe not the lust, adultery and murder part, but the distraction part. We are all distracted by things that just aren’t as important as looking at, listening to and living for Jesus. Like my Sampson and Delilah, there’s an Earl yelling some opinion over every fence. Like Peter, the winds and waves of life’s storms whip around us, threatening to overwhelm our souls. Similar to David, our peaceful walks often turn into mental and spiritual battles against the temptation to fear, worry, obsess, and doubt. It all adds up to distracting hindrances that make it difficult, even impossible, to hear Jesus when He speaks. 

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want any of that. I want so much more. I want to be so attentive to Jesus, so focused on Him that nothing, absolutely nothing, can distract me from Him. I want a desperate, singular desire for God that blocks out all the things of the world. (Psalm 42:1-2) In short, I want to be like Mary.

The words of the Lord, spoken through Zechariah, speak in beautiful imagery to this situation in our lives, “I will whistle, and they will come running.” (Zechariah 10:8) My mind’s eye sees God, watching our distracted lives, knowing we need the rest and peace He offers, whistling for us to come back to Him and find those things for which our hearts thirst. This is not a raucous whistle. It is not offensive or abrasive. It is a melody of compassion and care. A tune of love and forgiveness. A ballad that sweeps across our troubled souls, erases the distractions, and draws us back to our first love. (Revelation 2:4-5) It is hauntingly beautiful, desperate with longing. Longing that we will hear it over all the distractions around us. Desperate for us to come running back to Him. 

I hope you hear it. I hope the distractions of the world, the cares of this life, aren’t so loud you miss God’s song for you. I hope the things that knocked you off track, impeded your progress, hindered your faith won’t cause you to miss His love song. I hope you don’t think you’ve strayed too far, given in to temptation too many times, or followed too many distractions for God to serenade you. You haven’t. God is whistling. God is calling you back. His unfailing compassion and invitation of pardon are still open. (Isaiah 55:7) 

So straighten up your spine. Take a page from Mary’s book. Put aside the distractions that pulled you away from God, allowed you to drift, and caused you to sin. Literally. Put. Them. Down. Close your eyes and listen only to the lovesong God sings. Focus on Jesus. Soak in His promises. Seek Him constantly. (I Chronicles 16:11)  Find the peace you need, the joy you crave in the musical whistle of the Shepherd who calls you to lay aside the distractions, the weights, the sin, and simply follow Him. (Hebrews 12:1)