It might be advantageous for an individual to consider the misery and torment of hell, particularly if the result was a determination not to enter its gates. But, just taking note of that tortuous scene will not prevent it becoming man's final destination. A more beneficial contemplation is the internal conflict and struggle that takes place inside one's heart due to the sinful nature inherited from our original parents, Adam and Eve.

Thinking can be a healthy process because our thoughts produce actions and our actions denote the person we have become, providing a catalyst for change. Since man began his long march toward infinity, the need for change has been apparent. Driven from the dwelling place provided by his Maker, man has been on an endless search for purpose and meaning, encompassing a quest for happiness and contentment. But there is a problem—sin and the separation it has caused between man and his Creator. It is this great gulf dividing God and man that we are to think on, to consider. Some way we must manage to reach across, to get to the other side, but what can man do?

What can man do? Absolutely nothing! God has already done what is required. Before God spoke the heavens and the earth into being, the thought of man and his need for redemption were uppermost in God's mind. God had created man, in His image, for the sole purpose of fellowship, for companionship. Man would be unique, superior to the animal and plant life. He would reason; he would think; he would make decisions; he would have freedom of choice. And in that freedom, man fell. Thereafter followed God's plan to redeem man back to Himself. And that plan embodied the incarnation of the Son of God, Jesus. Only the infinite mind, only the infinite thought processes of an omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent Creator could conceive the remedy for sin without violating His holy and righteous character.

God did not meditate on the internal struggle caused by sin within His own heart. He focused His thoughts, His mind, upon the inner struggle between man and his sinful nature, and produced a way for man to become reconciled to his Creator-God. You might say He was the original Thinker.

Dianne Sargent is managing editor at Randall House.

Walking alongside the Sea of Galilee, Jesus stopped to watch as Simon and Andrew cast their nets. He called to them, “Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.” The Scripture says that they immediately left their nets and followed Him.

The nets symbolized everything about those two men. They were fishermen; this was their livelihood, the way they paid their bills. It was their identity; who they were. But at the call of Jesus, both unhesitatingly dropped their nets, docked their boat, and got in step with Jesus. These men left behind all they had been previously and followed Jesus of Nazareth.

When Jesus calls us today, He asks us to do the same thing Simon and Andrew did—to leave all and follow Him. Maybe we do not have to change our occupation as those two did. That depends upon the role Jesus has for each of us in His kingdom’s work, but our decision to become a follower of Jesus Christ entails a complete surrender of who we are, our dreams and aspirations, as we give the Lord Jesus Christ first place in our lives.

Why would two fishermen willingly turn their backs on who they were to become something completely different? Why should you and I be willing to do that? Could it be because Jesus has made a better offer? How does the best this world has to offer stack up against what you have when you become a follower of the Son of God? How do you think fishing compared to eternal life? When Jesus calls you to come follow Him, lay aside whatever you’re doing and get in step with Jesus. You will become a fisher of men.   

Dianne Sargent is managing editor at Randall House Publications.

The sun’s rays blind me. My heart races as I grope my way forward. I can’t see; I begin to look for somewhere to go; some place to hide. But before I can crawl behind my wall, a hand reaches for mine. An arm goes around my shoulder and someone I know who loves me asks, “Are you ok?” And the flight impulse subsides and I turn and answer, “Yeah, I’m ok.”
Exposure gives place to a sense of abandonment. Although I chose to walk out from behind my walls, they left me. I’ve been abandoned. What once gave me security, comfort, and even a measure of contentment is no longer a part of who I am. Much like a toddler taking her first steps, I embark upon a journey that will require every ounce of courage, strength, and faith I can muster.

What is so hard about letting go, of stepping out from behind the walls put in place years ago in a desperate dash for survival? That’s what it comes down to—I simply wanted to survive. Instead of trusting God to take care of me, to provide for whatever I needed, and to set me on a new course in life, fear took control. Like a rat scurrying for its hole, I ducked behind my walls, throwing them higher and making them thicker each time someone or something threatened my safety or security. Instead of running to my Lord and Savior, instead of letting Him heal my heart, instead of making Him my fortress, my comfort, and my security, I chose to hide. I refused to trust. I was afraid.

According to 2 Timothy 1:7, God does not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, of love, and of a sound mind. All I had needed, even wanted, God had available for me. He is the God of all resources.

So why did I hide? I was afraid. Why was I afraid? I simply refused to let God do for me all He has ever wanted to do—empower me through His love to live a productive life for His glory. All I needed to do was let Him be God.

Middle ground is the same as straddling the fence; one foot on the left while the other is on the right. It must be a most uncomfortable place to be.

Middle ground smacks of compromise, indecisiveness, hesitancy, and powerlessness.

To some it is safer than the two extremes. It does not require that you make a statement for what you believe, desire, or expect.
Others say those who sit in the middle have the opportunity to bring the two extremes together.  And maybe that is the purpose for this oft-visited real estate.

Maybe there are those God has called to occupy the seat of the middle ground. Maybe some good will come from that much sought after position; I don’t know. But, God has not bent me in that direction.

People say I am opinionated, forceful, hard, unyielding, stubborn, strong willed, in charge, proud, arrogant, and probably other adjectives that are whispered. And maybe they are right. But, one thing people never say is that they don’t know where I stand.

I do not occupy the middle ground; that seat is for someone else. Regardless of the issue, I have an opinion, a stance, a guideline, a principle, a desire, or a position. And I tend to be vocal, especially when asked.

Unfortunately, this character trait spills over into everything I do and affects everyone in my life. My family is my family. The same is true where my friends are concerned. Once you become part of my life, there is never any going back. There is no middle ground.

Is it unrealistic to expect others to treat me the same way? Probably, but I still harbor that expectation. When you let me into your life, there is never any going back. There is no middle ground.

You may prefer the middle ground, the place of least commitment; the safest place to sit. And I suppose there is something to be said for playing it safe. However, I prefer the excitement of full commitment and wide-eyed expectations. Can you not sense the surge of excitement that builds as you throw your shoulders back and embrace a new vision, a new hope? That’s the thrill of refusing to sit down on middle ground.

Our Lord did not embrace the middle ground. He called for complete commitment; total lordship over our lives. Take a stand, form an opinion, or state a principle by which to live. Commit your energy to your Lord, your family, and your friends. Let them know you love them, unequivocally. Change your residence if you must. Refuse to occupy middle ground.

Frodo lay unmoving, unable to stand. The mountain was in sight; they were so near, yet so far. Sam reached down, and pulled Frodo onto his shoulders. "Come on, Mr. Frodo. I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you" (my favorite line in the entire trilogy).

Sam was Frodo's gardener, a simple man in some people's minds. He was not the one entrusted with the ring. He was not the one people looked to for leadership, nor was he expected to have all the answers. Yet, when the going was the toughest, Sam came through. It is doubtful Frodo's mission would have been successful had Sam not tagged along.
Loyal. If one word could describe Sam, that’s it. He was never very far from Frodo. Although Frodo was committed to destroying the ring, Sam was committed to Frodo. The task that had been thrust upon Frodo was made easier by Sam's loyalty and faithfulness. When Frodo could go no farther, Sam stepped to the plate; he stood in the gap.

"I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you."

Has God entrusted you with a task that, at times, seems almost impossible to complete? Exhausted, you lay crumpled, unable to get up. Despair washes over you, draining you of every ounce of courage you ever possessed. You need a Sam who will come alongside you, pick you up, and set you back on the course God has planned for you. Look around. Somewhere, maybe lurking back in the shadows, God has placed a Sam in your life to watch out for you, to step to the plate, to stand in the gap when life becomes tough.

"I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you."

Don't miss out on the blessing of being Sam. Frodo needs you.

Walls present few choices for reaching the other side. Still the challenge remains. People have devised numerous ways to get past walls. Grappling hooks with ropes attached are thrown over the top of the wall and a skilled climber is easily up and over. Those with more time and less imagination dig down and under the foundation of the wall, thus reaching their destination. The more agile simply take a stroll and walk the length of the wall, getting past its obstruction. But the most insidious wall is the glass wall. The need to get past the wall does not exist. One merely looks; all is revealed. And yet it, too, remains a barrier.

God had a more ingenious way of getting to the other side of the wall. When the children of Israel followed Joshua to attack Jericho, God told them to march around the city once each day and on the seventh day they were to march around Jericho seven times; the priests were to blow their rams’ horns, the people were to shout, and the walls would fall down. There were no grappling hooks, no ropes, no shovels. The people were simply to trust God to give them the victory. The walls built to prevent the intruder, the captor, from taking possession of the city failed to do their job. At the people’s shout on the seventh day, the walls fell down flat. They did not crumble or collapse, strewing the pathway with debris. Neither did they shatter and leave shards of glass for the unsuspecting traveler. Nothing blocked the path of the Israelites as they marched into the city, victors!

Sometimes people are like the city of Jericho, thinking they are hidden behind impregnable walls, safe and sound. Nothing can reach them; they are completely protected from any perceived threat or harm. Often people build walls so high even the most athletic climber cannot reach the top, so thick excavation is impossible. And to think of walking past the wall is unrealistic. Yet, God says to tear down those walls. He wants to get inside. Sometimes, He has to knock the walls down flat, making the pathway plain for all to see.

Recently, God brought events to bear on my fortified “city” that resulted in my self-imposed walls falling down flat. People who have cared for me for a lot of years have painstakingly chipped away at the foundation of my walls. Some have even tried to circumvent the perimeter of my “city,” looking for any crack or broken place to squeeze through. Eventually most gave up, suspending all efforts, choosing to let me remain closed and hidden behind my walls of protection. Miraculously, these precious people remained my friends, loving me in spite of myself.

Then at just the right moment in my life and in God’s timing, God’s divine plan worked and the right person arrived who was able to do in a matter of months what others had tried desperately to do for decades. Unrelentingly, with the tenacity of a bulldog, she did not look back nor did she ever loosen her grip. She pushed, questioned, prodded, and loved. Slowly, as a flower opens in the spring, one petal at a time, the layers began to peel away and soon my soul lay open, raw and bare for all to see. There is no need for a skilled climber, any amount of earth-moving equipment, or walking shoes. My glass wall has shattered, offering no resistance. Just step across and have a look around.

What lies on the other side of the wall? Freedom—freedom to be myself, freedom to use all of my abilities and gifts, freedom to love and be loved, freedom to follow God’s call, and freedom to live a happy and contented life. Was it worth the pain of allowing God to expose the deepest recesses of my mind and heart, the secret places? You tell me. Have you looked at me lately? Then it’s time you did.