Delivered, but Fallen Short II

How many times have you driven past something and not really noticed? I’m not talking about the deer on the edge of the woods whose color and stealth prevent you from seeing it. What about the mundane things that everyone drives by without understanding its spiritual implication? Viewing such an object recently occurred while driving to work. Although I’m aware of most of the environment around me while driving, what stood out was the newspaper on the ground. You know. The one inside that translucent, pale, red plastic bag; the one that for whatever reason never made it into the specially established delivery box on a post next to the mail box.

That snapshot got me to thinking and the first thought was, “I’ve fallen short of the Glory of God,” as referenced in Romans 3:23. Almost immediately the next thought arrived. The paper had been delivered. How do we know that? The bigger picture indicates that next to the mail box is a driveway leading to someone’s home. It also shows that all of the papers delivered on that stretch of road were lying on the ground.

But wait. Remember the receptacle especially made for the delivery? What if this paper wasn’t the one that “owned” the box? For instance, the box may have been established for the Kingston Freeman delivery and this paper was the Ulster County Shopper. Still, the inference makes it the property owners. The Ulster County paper has been offered. It has not yet been accepted; therefore it has not yet been delivered.

I find my life much like that. I have chosen to receive many writings: newspapers, novels, history books and school texts. Each delivered at a particular time for a particular purpose, be it work, recreation, or simple interest in the subject matter. On the other hand, there has been a book offered consistently that has often been ignored, left lying, or picked up and put away so I didn’t have to look at it. It’s fairly plain, neat lettering on the cover, no pictures inside, nothing on the cover that screams, “Look at me!” It’s my Bible.

Within the church we expect that our brothers and sisters choose to read the Bible because it is part of the faith; it’s where faith comes from (Romans 10:17). They have been delivered. The book comes to them in the place appointed for its storage; the box on the post, or within their heart. And why does this thought occur to me?

A short two years ago I had an asymptomatic cancer on a kidney. It was big enough to cause much concern in the medical community and the urologist said, “The appropriate treatment is to remove the entire kidney. It’s a common thing. We take kidneys all the time.”

“You don’t take my kidney all the time.”

But they did take it. The odd part? I had not one post-surgery pain associated with the four incisions of the surgery. I suffered a gas bubble stuck under my ribs—once. “Why?” is the question I’ve asked and this snapshot of the paper on the ground brings an answer.

The paper ended up on the ground, but there were many that passed it by. I wonder how many of those papers would have been read if someone else had completed the delivery; picked it up and put it in the box.

You see, this is a perfect picture of my experience. I may not be the most righteous man, but my wife and the church saw to it, through their prayers, that I was delivered through my trial. They lifted me up to that box with such fervor that God reached down and put His hand on my front page. I received that because I do have faith, but yet I am a sinner. His word says to pray for others that you may be healed. I have prayed for others—none of which jumped up and said, “Amen! I am healed.” But I did the exercise; my faith set me free, after the completed delivery.