The Line in the Sand

The little bird had grown up free. She ate the best food, learned to fly with good bird parents, sat by the waves’ edge and rested. She skimmed lightly over the water and dove down and caught fresh fish. She was happy.

One day, she flew farther along the shore and saw a line in the sand. On the other side of that line, the beach was very different. It caught her eye. At first glance, it looked like fun to the little bird. A party of birds gathered, loud noises, littered bags of used fries for the taking. She was nervous, though, and turned back to her home. As she flew, she felt her lungs breath freely in the clean air and the wide-open spaces.

But the lure of the exciting and different called her back the next day. She didn’t tell anyone; she just went. She gathered up her courage and landed among the loud birds. She tried to fit in and act like she was one of them. She boldly grabbed a fry, liked it, and then grabbed another. She stayed all day, bumping into other birds, even fighting over a choice morsel of trash.

By the end of the day, though, she felt strange and weighed down. She knew she had to go home, immediately, while she still could. She couldn’t describe it….it was just a feeling of impending danger.

She flew somewhat sluggishly, and finally made it back over the line in the sand. She slept badly all night and awoke feeling even worse. The little bird promised herself not to do that again.

It took time, but after some days, she felt better, more herself, freer. She flew as she did before and felt joy in chasing the waves. She was home, and it was good.

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This story came about due to a book I was reading the past two days. It was very well reviewed, excellently written. I was instantly catapulted into this imaginary world created by the author, and I loved it. Couldn’t put the book down. But suddenly last evening, it changed. New plot elements were introduced that I knew would displease God. It felt dirty, wrong, and all I knew was that I had to stop reading immediately. No matter how good the book was, no matter how much I wanted to know how it ended. It just made me feel bad inside, and extremely sad. The loss of purity in our culture hit me like a brick wall. The book has gone back to the library, and I feel better. Like the bird, that was my line in the sand.

Stay strong, friends. Pray that Christ holds us very tightly through these perilous days.

Blessings, Lisa

“…let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God.” – 2 Corinthians 7:1b

“Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is – His good, pleasing and perfect will.” – Romans 12:2

If There Was One

If there was one whose heart was true

Who always saw the best

Who saw your worst yet loved you still

Who laid his life at rest

If there was one who died for you

Who gave it all to rescue

What would you say, how would you feel

When you got the chance to speak

If there was one, you sigh and wish

I’d give my life to him

I’d follow him around and know

Our love would never dim

If there was one, His name is Jesus

Read His life and see

He loves you so, He died for you

Christ Jesus, it is He

c2022 Lisa Lyons

Lo, A Light Approaches!

They couldn’t remember the last time they felt safe. Each monstrous wave threatened to upend the very ship they sailed upon, they relied on for their survival. The wind had long since shredded their sails and torn their anchoring ropes. They had not eaten for so long that they forgot they were hungry.

Would this series of storms ever end? They wished they had never signed up for this voyage. It had been one storm after another. For weeks, or had it been months? Time was not relevant anymore.

Each sailor tried to sleep when they weren’t on watch, holding on to whatever they could find that seemed relatively solid. Except for the two watchmen, drenched and huddled on deck, gripping the railings with all they had left.

The dawn approached, and a weak light pushed through the clouds. One sailor wearily strained his eyes to see what he could see. What was that? Brightness? A mirage to taunt him? No, it was definitely light. Beautiful, beautiful light. Ahead in the darkness.

Invigorated, he holds the wheel a little tighter and makes for the direction of this glorious thing. Light. Hope. Future. Salvation.

They are saved.

Whatever you are facing, whatever storms come your way, look for the light. Wait for it, as watchmen wait for the morning. It is coming, it has come, it will always come.

“When Jesus spoke again to the people, He said, ‘I Am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.’ ” – John 8:12

“I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His Word I put my hope. My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning…” – Psalm 130:5-6

This song….ahhh, perfect! Enjoy Mary Dillon and Deanta’s version of this wonderful tune.

Blessings, Lisa