Waywardness: The Little Flock, Distracted.

It was a sunny day in Harlem, around 1970 or so. I distinctly remember running down Park Avenue from 128th to 127th Street, catching up to a woman near the corner, reaching up, and holding her hand. And I remember the sudden shock of looking up to her face and realizing that the woman was not my mother. Then I heard the rolling laughter of my older brother, half a block behind me, who found it hilarious that I was so stupid.

But, I was not stupid, I simply was not paying attention. And I'd failed to recognize that, in order to catch up to the woman who I thought was my mother, I had let go of someone's hand... you guessed it. I had let go of my real mother's hand to chase down a stranger.

What had distracted me so?

Her gait. The woman walked like my mom, and I panicked at the prospect of being left behind.

Her coat. The woman wore a coat which was similar to a coat my mom owned.

But somehow, in the midst of the distractions, I had missed the facts: This woman was markedly taller than my mom. My mother would never have let go of my hand. And my mother never allowed me to walk behind her- our norm was to walk together, side by side.

In Matthew 9, we see that the sheep, the little flock, are described as harassed and helpless when facing the world without their shepherd close at hand. And it doesn't take much effort for an enemy to distract them, lure them away from their true owner, and place them in a position to be destroyed.

Sometimes we miss the facts when we're distracted. Our wallet is empty and we plan on flirting with an old flame in the hopes of getting a few dollars out of the interaction, instead of resting in the fact of God as our sole provider. Or our spiritual tank is empty and we run to Pastor Sam and Pastor Benji for relief, not realizing the fact that God has called us to find our rest in Him alone (Psalm 62).

The solution to distraction is reflected in Matthew 6:33, where we are exhorted by Christ to seek first the kindgom of God and His righteousness.

Perhaps- if I had been constantly looking into the face of my mother- perhaps I would not have let go of her hand that day.

Perhaps- if we would constantly look into the face of our heavenly Father- perhaps we would not be so easily distracted.

Let us embrace the compassionate Christ, who reaches out to us as a Shepherd longing for a flock of sheep that will hear His voice and not follow the voice of a stranger (John 10).