The crooked man left the building and headed south towards the warm-light which has guided his crooked cane for nearly a century. He walks crookedly on a narrow path with his eyes never straying from his singular goal of obedient, humble, servanthood. When a straight-mind thinks rightly the crooked body follows.
He hobbled along with a quirky cadence as if their where 7 lb. iron-clad shoes strapped to his feet. It moves him forward in awkward lunges created by the foot-mass far outweighing the atrophied body-mass. The old ranch hand extends forward and plants the cane on the ground before him like a tripod that keeps him from tipping and walking in clockwise direction over time and distance.
Many times his narrow path dissolved from sight and his eyes strained to find a trace of direction, yet his deep-faith has its own GPS coordinates.
Years of living by that humble faith makes a trail to walk on where there is none clearly defined.
Hebrews: 11:1 “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”
I’m not going to donate my prescription glasses to all the basketball referees I’ve endured in quiet desperation. Maybe I should remove them and take a fuzzy walk with a crooked cane to know the crooked man better and his continued walk by faith.
We’re all crooked men with crooked canes and walk a crooked line. My prayer is that Jesus is our true compass that straightens our path as the crooked trail pushes against us in an off-camber direction.
Matthew 7:13 “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow that road that leads to life, and only a few find it.