In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength... (Isaiah 30:15)
Wednesday, February 3
On October 31, 1983, Korean Airlines flight 007 departed from Anchorage, Alaska for a direct flight to Seoul, Korea. Unknown to the crew, however, the computer engaging the flight navigation system contained a one-and-a-half-degree routing error. At the point of departure, the mistake was unnoticeable. One hundred miles out, the deviation was still so small it was practically undetectable. But as the 747 continued through the Aleutian Mountains and out over the Pacific, the plane strayed increasingly from its proper course.
Eventually it was flying over Soviet air space. Soviet radar picked up the error, and fighter jets scrambled into the air to intercept. Over mainland Russia the jets shot flight 007 out of the sky. There were no survivors. A one-and-a-half-degree routing error in the flight navigation system made a dramatic difference in the destiny of flight 007.
It’s easy to drift “off-course” and not realize it initially. There’s something to be said for setting aside a little bit of time every day for a “maintenance and navigation” evaluation.
One of the most underappreciated things about Jesus was His rhythm of retreating to solitude to spend time in prayer. There were so many people who had so many different expectations and “job descriptions” for Him. It would be easy for Him to navigate His life according to the opinions and demands of others, not to mention the temptations of the enemy.
The will of God is our “true north.”
May the Lord bless your reading of the Word today and time in listening, reflection, and conversation with Him.
C.S. Lewis wrote, “The moment you wake up each morning, all your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists in shoving it all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other, larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in.”
This can be the difference between us functioning as a thermostat in our environments or a thermometer. In my own life, I’ve found that when I don’t carve out space to receive that larger, stronger, quieter life, I wind up reflecting the angst, anxiety and harried pace of the world around me. I’m a thermometer.
There are others in my life who seem to exude peace and strength when a tempest is raging all around. They are a thermostat, improving the temperature of the environment around them. In the atmosphere of relationships, they bring warmth when things are cold and coolness when things are heated. As I get to know them I find this one thing in common - they have a regular rhythm of quiet, reflection, and time with the Lord. They have a habit of allowing that other, larger, stronger, quieter life to come flowing in.
Will you let the other, larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in?
Grace and peace,
Posted on Wed, February 3, 2016
by Chris Seidman