Jodie
Well, yesterday I made the seven-and-a-half-hour drive from North Carolina back to Georgia. This makes three trips in three months. The first was vacation to visit my family, the second was when my grandmother died, and this one was to see my brother graduate from the fire academy. (Everybody say, "Way to go, Matt!" So proud of him!) I have to say it... I love my family absolutely to pieces and enjoy the time I get to spend with them, but I'm really getting tired of the drive. Usually I love it. Three times in three months? Not so much.

Anyway, for the drive, I've decided that the iPod is the greatest thing ever. For Christmas, my husband bought me a car stereo that hooks up to my iPod and lets me control the music through the radio. Nice. Now I'm all iPod, all the time when it comes to those trips. Yesterday, I put the thing on random and let it go where it would.

And it played lots and lots of Third Day, of course, since I think (next to maybe Paul McCartney) I have more Third Day songs than anything else on there. I said all of that to say that I got to hear their song "Wire" for the first time in a long time. (I've been listening to "Revelation" and "Live Revelations" lately.)

If you've never heard "Wire," it's a great song. (It sort of reminds me of DC Talk's "What If I Stumble.") It's a fine line we walk every day. You can be a singer, an artist, a teacher, a parent, a friend, or a writer. We have to talk a wire. We live in the world, but we are not of the world, and it can get confusing. Where's the line? What do we do? How do we speak of God in a way that reaches others without driving them away? How do we handle it when we make a mistake?

What if we stumble?

A lot is said when Christians slip and fall. Everybody trips, and the more publicly it happens, the more it is talked about. Sadly, the world (and even some Christians) prefer to "watch [someone] fall" instead of catching them. It's almost like it makes us feel better, it makes us feel a little proud that we weren't the ones who landed in the mud. We judge our muck by someone else's. "Hey, look! They fell in that red Georgia clay that will never wash off of them. They're stained forever. At least mine's only pond scum. It'll come right off. If I ever decide to take a bath, that is..."

It's time for us to make the choice to reach out. Our friends, our family members, our spiritual leaders--and yes, even we--will fall to varying degrees. The thing to do is not to stand back and watch the spectacular crash, then talk about how horrible they are and how much better we are. The thing to do is to reach out and catch the falling one, not let them smack the ground without a hand to lift them up.

I sure hope someone will do the same for me and you...

JB
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