Christian Living

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“Step on a crack, break your mother’s back.” The childhood rhyme was never a favorite with me, but the game that went with the rhyme was. To this day, I have a fascination with patterns and coming up with silly, useless rules. Walk only on the gray tiles without touching the black. Sort the candy by color and then eat one from each color. Trace the pattern in the rug with your toe from beginning to end without stopping. Each challenge takes concentration, more than is usually required to perform the task of walking down a hall or eating a packet of candy.

I guess this task-setting habit of mine is a very mild form of OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I am thankful I can say that it causes me no emotional or physical difficulty to break these frivolous rules I make up. I can step on cracks and black tiles. Occasionally, I eat the candy without even bothering to look at the colors. In these all cases, breaking the rules has no great negative consequences for me. My mother’s back is in perfect health.

Unlike these childish games, breaking God’s rules has serious consequences. The one that I fear the most is the rift that my disobedience causes between us. My daily walk with the sovereign power of the universe is disrupted and I have hurt Him. “Breaking the rules” is never trivial when the rules are God’s. Breaking His precepts is sin; so is breaking the laws of those in authority over us. One of His laws is to obey those in government unless obedience causes you to sin.

That is why we go through the hassle of filing a permit when we refinish our basement. It is hard to obey, especially if it means a possibility of thousands of dollars in additional work and tense relations with the contractor. I just remember God sees everything, including the inner workings of my heart.

So, it is the middle of the night; I am on my way home; I come to a red light; and I think no human is looking. God is there, He sees me, and His pleasure should be the desire of my heart. I think His delight is worth a few more moments at a stoplight, don’t you?

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