As I wind to the entrance, the blur of a male bent on escape nearly topples me flat. Tall and powerful looking, dressed in an immaculate suit and tie, he reeked of success. I imagine him presiding over a boardroom. No way this frazzled blip on his impeccable record is the norm.
Yet here he is, streaking out the door like his pants are on fire.
I grin at the mortified look on his face.
As I round the corner, I have to giggle. At the sinks, four women wash their hands and laugh at the poor man—in the women’s restroom.
Surely, we’ve all made that particular mistake. For me, the last time was in Hobby Lobby. But when I stepped into the no-trespass zone, I immediately knew my mistake and skedaddled before you could say, “boo.” The face-saving bonus? An empty men’s room. No such luck for him…
What force propelled him deep into the labyrinth of the women’s airport bathroom? Distraction. Plain and simple. So intent on the phone in his hand, he had no idea his feet propelled him in the wrong direction. Until it was too late, a rare mistake most certainly omitted from the conversation when he rejoined his traveling companions.
Even deep into scripture, like a dog on a squirrel, I can be triggered by a word, phrase, or phone vibration. Before I know it, I chase that rodent up the nearest tree. And when I tire of barking it up, I slink back, tail between my legs as I realize I whiffle-waffled fifteen minutes on the unimportant, the mundane, caught in a web of distraction.
One of his sneaky-brilliant tricks, Satan uses distraction to derail our Christian walk. So simple, so seemingly un-orchestrated, yet that’s the beauty of this devious temptation. On the surface, distraction looks pretty harmless, no big deal. So what if I chase that squirrel? Just a spec on the radar of life, right?
But distraction is the enemy of focus. I have learned I cannot do my bible study at my desk, surrounded by to-do lists and looming projects. No how, no way. I get my focus together better when I move to a totally different room that does not whisper, “work, work, work.” Often the early morning darkness and the warmth of the fire invites me to my favorite winter seat, my cocoon for writing and study.
Early in Jesus’ ministry, people tried to distract Him from His purpose. Sometimes people were His focus. But other times, when the future weighed heavy, He withdrew to His lifeline—prayer to His Father.
A buzzword right now is self-care. But Jesus knew the benefits before mainstream popularity. He knew to serve humanity well, He needed lonely places and communion with His Father. No crowds, no to-do lists whirling in His head. And by example He taught His disciples to crave the great alone, replenishing their souls with a God who always hears.
So I challenge you this year—no more walking into distracted messes and backing out shamefaced like the executive guy.
1. Grab a devotional or bible study to dive into.
2. Find your sweet spot.
3. Frequent it regularly.
4. Throw your phone across the room. (Confession–I just give mine a gentle toss across the coffee table and onto the sofa…)
5. And fight distraction with prayer and an uber-focus sent from above.
Here’s my prayer for us both in 2023:
Let your love, God, shape my life with salvation, exactly as you promised;
Then I’ll be able to stand up to mockery because I trusted your Word.
Don’t ever deprive me of truth, not ever—
your commandments are what I depend on.
Oh, I’ll guard with my life what you’ve revealed to me, guard it now, guard it ever;
And I’ll stride freely through wide open spaces
as I look for your truth and your wisdom;
Then I’ll tell the world what I find, speak out boldly in public, unembarrassed.
I cherish your commandments—oh, how I love them!—
relishing every fragment of your counsel.
Psalm 119:47-48 Msg
