The Drift

“Andrew! Get back here!”

Those were the words preventing me from accomplishing my goal of napping on the beach that day. The man yelled them over and over until apparently Andrew finally heard him. Relinquishing all hopes of slumber, I looked up and scanned the beach until I saw a young boy exiting the water and making his way to the yelling man.

It was a scene that took me back to my childhood.

For those of us who grew up here in Northeast Florida, we remember very well when we could drive on the beaches.  Our parents would park the car, and we would race off into the water directly in front of the vehicle, barely able to contain our enthusiasm. We jumped and splashed and rode the waves in toward the shore over and over again. Then, at some point, we would hear a distant sound of a familiar voice calling our name. When we realized we were being called, we stopped, looked around, and discovered that the source of the calling was at least a half mile or so up the beach.  We had drifted.

Not intentionally. It wasn’t on purpose. But as we frolicked in the water, just enjoying ourselves, the current had carried us away. We didn’t even realize it, and still wouldn’t know, it if had not been for the deep, resounding voice of our dad calling our name, and waving us back in. So the only choice at this point was to get out of the water, and walk step by step, back to the place that Dad had set up for you.

Sometimes we would ignore the call, not wanting to leave the water, and knowing that fighting the current to return would be a pointless effort. We would exhaust ourselves, and never get any closer, so we continued to play and splash. It was no big deal–you could always go back when you wanted. But the longer you waited, the further you drifted. At some point, regardless of the fun, you would get tired and hungry. And then you would remember that there was a feast waiting for you.  When you reached the point where the hunger outweighed the fun, you rode in a final wave, walked to the shore, and began the long trek back through the soft sand. To the place of comfort, where there was food and water, towels to dry off and sunscreen for protection. Everything you needed.

Over the years, this scene was repeated over and over again. But as you matured, you began to realize that you could avoid the drudgery of a long, soft-sanded hike if you only made an effort.  If you intentionally looked for Dad every few minutes, you would realize how quickly the current was trying to pull you away. By exiting the water then, and purposely positioning yourself in front of your father, the pull of the current had no effect on where you stood.

When you were stationed in front of your dad, you didn’t have to wait until you were starving to go look for him. You didn’t have to wait until you were exhausted and then walk that mile and a half to rest. The snacks were right there. The chairs were right there.

And the funny thing is, they always were. Dad didn’t pack up and move the car every 30 minutes so that we had to search for him; he never moved—we did. And the same holds true today, whether on the shore or on the mountain: our Father never moves.  How far we allow the undertow of the culture to carry us depends entirely on us.

Daniel faced the same lure when he was taken captive and told to adapt to the ways of Babylon.  The current of our culture today is just as strong, but just as subtle. It will carry us away before we even realize we have compromised. Daniel managed to remain in his new world, but not of his new world. How did he do it?

Daniel made up his mind not to harm himself by eating the king’s rich food and drinking the king’s wine.  –Dan 1:8 

Daniel made up his mind.  He decided. He made a decision. Some versions say “he purposed in his heart.”  We must resolve to keep ourselves positioned in front of our Father so that we avoid the drift. But resolve is not enough; to resolve is to make a strong determination to do something. You must DECIDE to do something, and then you must DO it.

Then, by purposely positioning yourself in front of your Father, the pull of the current has no effect on where you stand.

Stay in the Word. Meditate on scripture and plant it firmly in your heart. Surround yourselves with strong, godly friends and draw from their strength. Show mercy to someone who doesn’t deserve it. Pray for someone who needs it. Give generously. Not only of your money, but of your time and of yourself.  Love those who can do nothing for you. These are things that the world does not do.

Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth –Col 3:2

Look at things from a higher perspective. The higher you go, the smaller everything else appears.  And the weaker the pull of the undertow. Make consistent efforts to hold yourself above the water line.

For the current only exists under the surface.