He Does Not Know That It Will Cost Him His Life

The side stream looked promising from a distance.  Its undercurrents allured with assurances of freedom, fun and fulfillment.  The mighty river of God’s revealed will was naturally leading in a different direction, but I kept noticing the side stream.  Others were taking the detour.  Why not me?  I won’t get too off-course.  I’ll remember the way back.  I won’t travel the side stream all that far.  Just a peak.  I know what I’m doing and I’m strong enough to get back when I’m ready.

The water is more shallow in this side stream.  It’s murkier than I thought it would be.  And stagnant.  There were so many others who deviated from the river right along with me.  So why do I feel so alone?  The sun was shining so brightly before.  Why do I feel like I’m surrounded by shadows?  It’s harder to breathe in these cloudy waters.  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Time to turn around.  But it’s harder now.  I can barely see where I’m going.  There’s scarcely enough water to even maneuver.  The more I struggle to set myself free, the more tangled I get.  What started out as a promising side stream has quickly deteriorated into a trickle of filthy muck and mud.  I can’t even turn around.  Where am I?  Where did everybody go?  Help!

What was that?  A shadow?  A rustle?  A…

…how did this happen?  Why did I ever leave the fresh, deep waters of the river?  How could I have been so foolish?  Why didn’t I know that traveling this side stream would cost me everything.  Why…

With much seductive speech she persuades him;  with her smooth talk she compels him.  All at once he follows her,  as an ox goes to the slaughter,  or as a stag is caught fast  till an arrow pierces its liver;  as a bird rushes into a snare;  he does not know that it will cost him his life. (Prov 7:21-23)

Photo courtesy of The Big Picture.