“Suddenly [the unwise man] went after [the adulteress], as an ox goes to the slaughter [not knowing the outcome], or as one in stocks going to the correction [to be given] to a fool, until an arrow pierced his liver [with a mortal wound]; Like a bird fluttering straight into the net. He did not know that it would cost him his life. Now therefore, my sons, listen to me, and pay attention to the words of my mouth. Do not let your heart turn aside to her ways. Do not stray into her [evil, immoral] paths. For she has cast down many [mortally] wounded; Indeed, all who were killed by her were strong. Her house is the way to Sheol, descending to the chambers of death.” (Proverbs 7:22-27, AMP)

Back when I used to be a youth leader, we would spend the summer nights out in the church parking lot. Kids would bring their skateboards, scooters, and bikes and ride all around the property. We’d set up big firepits and volleyball nets for some good, old-fashioned goofing off after the meeting was over.

One night, I remember I was talking to a couple people by the backdoor of the church when I heard a scratching sound that would not stop. I looked all around the back stoop until I realized the scratching was coming from the gutter downspout of the church. This downspout went from the eave of the roof and continued underground and must have gone into some sewer system with the town. 

Quickly, me and a couple other people worked to get the piece of downspout disconnected from the pipe underneath. The pipe went down a couple of feet, so dark that we couldn’t see anything but a pair of panicked eyes at the bottom and lots of squeaking. Shining a light down, we realized it was a squirrel. He must have been on the roof of the church and fallen down the gutter into what was a sure death if we hadn’t came along.

We tried a few ways to get the little guy out of the hole, and we ended up feeding a piece of rope down the hole for the squirrel to climb up.

Our sin will entrap us in the same way. Like a little squirrel falling down a pipe that was hidden under leaves, or a bird in a net, or an ox to the slaughter, we often don’t realize the depths of our sin until we have been caught in it. To follow it to its end is certain death and without a Savior is as inescapable as that underground pipe. 

In Proverbs 7, Solomon depicts a young and inexperienced man that lacks the wisdom to turn from an adulteress. This adulteress tempts his every sense and beckons him to be with her. She lays her trap with a luxurious home and a sumptuous bed perfumed with oils and made with comfortable cushions and linens. She smoothly speaks to him and makes him feel desired. She tells him that their encounter will be full of love and delight– until morning. By the end of her invitation, the young man is completely allured and is persuaded inside. Solomon himself ends the tale saying, “He did not know it would cost him his life.”

Our sin separates us from God. It’s not a small thing. We can try to excuse it away or minimize it but if not confronted and given to Jesus, it will ensnare us. If not repented of and turned away from, it will consume us. We cannot claim to walk in righteousness and yet cling to our wrongs.

Solomon begs his son to listen to him and heed his warnings: Don’t let your heart turn to evil. Don’t allow your foot to even step in that direction. Remember, whatever is in your heart, your feet will eventually go. If your heart allows the temptation of sin to be entertained, if you do not guard yourself to be quick to identify the persuasions of the immoral, you will inevitably fall short. A mouse doesn’t usually sense the trap closing over its neck, they only see the bait. A crab doesn’t know it’s in a trap until the doors swing shut and the cage starts to rise off the sea floor.

If we lack spiritual, Godly knowledge, we will walk straight into the trap of our temptations. But if we gain God’s insight and listen to His word, we will be better equipped to be on guard against the sin that beckons us. Solomon warns his sons that the adultress’ home seemed inviting and promised delight, but that seemingly alluring home is the way to death. She’s led many others to it with the same smooth talk; that comfortable bedroom is a chamber of death.

Maybe today’s devotion doesn’t seem so encouraging. Maybe it’s blunt and a little heavy. But we need to be reminded of the egregiousness of our sin. Sometimes, we need to soberly take stock of where we fall short. Be encouraged. God’s Spirit desires to help you fight your sin. His wisdom is designed to help you root it out and live in a way that pleases Him. 

If our ultimate goal is to be spiritually wise and walk the path of righteousness, then we need to be quick to point out our struggle and allow God to transform it. The wise lean into instruction and correction so they can become more wise. The fool bristles against correction so that they can continue to ignore the ways they still need to mature.

Think of Godly wisdom as the rope we hung down into the hole to fish the squirrel out of the pipe. We had to try several times, feeding it in and out over and over before the squirrel finally caught the hint and grabbed onto the rope and climbed out. If we cry out to God for help and wisdom– if we seek the Lord and grab on to His understanding– we will find that wisdom is God’s hand extended to pull us up out of the trap of our sin.

It’s never too late to begin confronting the things we know we fall short in, to turn our direction back to a walk of faith and live a life in service and in the name of Christ.

Do you see God as a friend, or as a distant entity? Do you see His commands as necessities to your life, or as guidelines often ignored? 

The mark of a maturing Christian is the one who embraces the Lord’s teachings as life-giving guidance and turns to God in joy and exuberance in communion. When you see God’s counsel as if it were trusted advice from your best friend, you know you’re in a good place. You’ve drawn near to the Lord not as a wish-fulfiller or a militant box-checker, but as a sister or a faithful companion. 

Dear Lord,

Thank you for your Word. Thank you that you have given us so much of yourself in it. You are a God that doesn’t need to be guessed at or convinced to reveal yourself. We can turn to you at any time and you meet us. We can cast our worries on you and you are good and diligent to hold them all.

Last month, I was in Arizona for my sister’s wedding. She owns two horses, Paint and Splash. Being the maid of honor, I traveled a few days ahead of the rest of my family,  and got to spend a lot of time with her before her big day.

While I was there, she taught me how to ride a horse; something I haven’t done since I was a pre-teen on a youth group trip. Needless to say, I was as beginner as it gets! I was surprised at how much there was to learn– it’s not just getting up into a saddle and saying, “Giddy up!” Turns out, there is a specific way of sitting in the saddle, holding the reins, and positioning your feet in the stirrups. Then, add in all the commands the horse understands. 

If you put the ingredients together for a pie and put them in the oven, you won’t end up with a roast chicken. If you throw together a batch of cookies, you won’t ever take out and serve a 3 layer cake out of the same ingredients.

What you put in is what you get coming out. This is a foundational idea in the Bible: what you take into your heart is what will end up coming out of you– in word, in deed, and in the fruit of your life.

‘If the sun is not awake, then you aren’t allowed to play yet.’ That’s the rule in our house for our three year old. A few months back, we were going through a phase where she would wake up in the middle of the night and wander the house– usually hiding somewhere so that when we figured out she was out of bed, we would have to search to find her before settling her again. Once she realized that didn’t work, she started coming to our bed every night, which also grew old fast. 

That was when we taught her that when the sun goes down, we go to sleep, and when it rises again we can start a new day of playing. But if she wakes and the sun isn’t up yet, she has to try to go back to sleep.

Wisdom comes with experience. For the most part, that’s what we believe– that the longer you live, the more wisdom you have. It’s not a wrong line of thinking, as throughout our lives, the things we go through teach us something; so experiences hone wisdom because the knowledge was gained through living. 

But Godly wisdom isn’t just this passively gained thing as we go through life. It doesn’t happen by osmosis. Godly wisdom is something gained through active pursuit. It’s an intentional process that costs us something in order to receive and apply it.

Back in 2015, I was studying abroad in Cape Town, South Africa. While I was there, my grandma and mom made a trip to come and visit. During their stay we went and did so many things that I’ll remember as long as I live, but one day was dedicated totally to climbing Table Mountain. We chose to hike via Platteklip Gorge, an “easy” trail that is about three kilometers of endless switchbacks of steps. 

For three very inexperienced hikers, we very much underestimated the difficulty of the trail. And we were under-prepared. We easily ran out of water about a quarter-way into the hike. As we took frequent breaks– did I mention it was all steps?– we were keeping pace with a man that said he was hiking with his friends, but they all left him behind.

I grew up in a Christian school all the way up through the fifth grade. At North Shore Christian School, every morning we would stand, say the pledge of allegiance, sing “God Bless America,” pledge allegiance to the Christian flag, and say the school’s Bible verse, Proverbs 3:5-6. I think in many ways, that was one of the first ever verses I ever burned into my young memory.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart. For six years of my life, that was how I started my school day. What a foundation and a truth to stake a young life to!

Like most toddlers, my kids love to wake up in the morning and watch a little television before they start their day. The problem is, if Sam or I don’t shut it off after a couple of episodes, those kids will waste their whole day in front of the thing, watching movie after movie and show after show. And the more they watch before being disconnected, the more off their behavior is when the television finally does turn off.

We’re talking tantrums, crying, and whining galore. But even on the best day; when they happily agree to turn off the TV, they need encouragement on what to do. Every day, the suggestions are the same: play a game, do a project/craft, play with this toy, read a book, go outside… for some reason, they can’t formulate for themselves something they can do once the screen goes dark.

My daughter got a Pretty, Pretty Princess game for Christmas this year. The premise is simple, there is a game board, a spinner, and a bowl full of different color jewelry in the middle. The goal is to go around the game board and gather all the pieces of jewelry in your color: necklace, bracelet, ring, a pair of earrings, and a crown. The first one to have all their jewelry wins.

Me and my husband have played this game with her about two dozen times since she got it, and no exaggeration: she wins every time. She loves it. Dripping in jewelry, her smile is as big as a billboard when she realizes she won; she is the pretty, pretty princess.

What does it mean to be completely devoted to someone or something? 

Even marriages have the “honeymoon phase,” where the couple is totally enamored with each other. Everything is new, and precious, and exhilarating. There’s something similar when you become new parents– “the bubble” as it’s now affectionately called. Where you bring that child home and they are so agreeable, so cute, so new and wonderful, that the world just feels novel and sweet.

There are days, as a parent, that your kids will test you. They will fight each other like they’re trying to draw blood. They will disobey and defy you in ways that will knock you off your feet. And they’ll act out in ways that makes me think at least, “I was NEVER like this as a child.” 

And maybe I wasn’t, but I’m sure in other ways, I was. I can remember plenty of times I got in trouble for talking back, being mean to my brother, or being disrespectful. I can remember plenty of times that I slammed my door as a teen, thinking that would show my parents how angry I was. And I know that my parents still loved me through it, but now I know how they must have felt on the other side of that door.

Eastern Long Island has a few big apple orchards. Every autumn, they have u-pick harvest festivals, where you can go in and pick bushels of apples of all different kinds. Granny smith, pink ladies, macintosh, golden, red delicious. You name it, there are rows and rows of them.

When I was younger, it always used to bother me how many apples were on the ground. It felt wasteful. All these apples on the floor, rotting or going to the bugs. What use is that?

There is one thing I remember from the birth of my children; my firstborn especially. I remember the way that little hospital room became this warmly lit, peaceful, little bubble. The moments where it was just me, the baby, and her dad, felt the most safe and golden I have ever felt.

We looked at her until our eyes started crossing and the lids felt heavy. We held her and marveled at her perfection. We kissed her and let her wrap her whole hand around our one finger. We sang to her and prayed with her and spoke softly about how beautiful she was. How we promised to be the kind of parents who taught her about Jesus and cherished her soul every day of her life.

Could you imagine being in the middle of a work shift and being confronted by an angel?

The shepherds were out in their fields, watching the sheep, pulling the night shift. I can’t imagine the job was all that riveting. After all, the old bedtime hack is to count sheep, isn’t it?