His Word Gives Us Clear Directions

When we’d driven just about as far as the blacktop would take us, we found ourselves at what felt like the edge of the world. Surrounded by blue sky and dunes of waving beach grass, the Cape Cod National Seashore stretched before us. The Race Point Lighthouse stood tall as gulls circled overhead, their sharp eyes watching for a chance to swoop in and grab the forgotten remnants of a sandwich.

We grabbed towels and blankets and coolers and shovels and buckets and kids, and began the slow climb up the impressive dunes. We paused at the top to take in the scene that had been hidden from view just moments before. A wide expanse of sand sloped down to the sea. The waves of the Atlantic Ocean looked as if they were in the cooling off period after an argument. Couples strolled hand in hand at water’s edge. Blankets dotted the shore like the patches of a quilt waiting to be sewn together. A family was stacking firewood in anticipation of a sunset celebration.

We trudged through the sand and staked our claim near the lifeguard’s tower. A bright purple flag flew high above a serious-looking young man decked out in whistle and binoculars. The kids dropped their towels, kicked off their shoes, and were racing toward the water when it dawned on me. There was just one thing missing from this iconic beach scene: swimmers. On this beautiful, warm, sunny day, there was not a single soul splashing or throwing a Frisbee or body surfing. No one was in the water.

At that moment, the purple flag on the lifeguard stand began to wave as the breeze picked up. And there, in sharp white contrast on the purple background, leaving no room for misunderstanding, was the outline of a shark. The kids recognized the heightened urgency in my “STOP!” and begrudgingly reversed course. After a quick Google search, we learned the flag meant Great White sharks had been spotted in the area.

As a Florida native, I am no stranger to the beach. But the New England coastline is not like home. The sand feels different, the surf has a bit more urgency, and the rules and guidelines are unfamiliar. This purple flag was new to me. I wasn’t sure what it meant. Thank goodness for Google.

That day on the beach made me think of Psalm 119:19. I like how it’s written in The Message: “I’m a stranger in these parts; give me clear directions.”

We are, each one of us, walking through this crazy life in a world that is not our home. If last year reminded us of anything, I would think this would be in the Top 5. Life can be stunningly beautiful one minute and heartbreakingly tragic just a moment later. There are questions, doubts, mysteries that will not be explained this side of heaven. I don’t know how I would make it through without the guidance of Scripture.

Our daily lives can be so busy with appointments and deadlines and commitments. I have often struggled to make daily Bible reading fit into my schedule. I am not a morning person, and I wrestle with perfectionist tendencies. I have trouble making a reality of my fantasy of lovely hours spent alone with the Lord before the kids wake up. But I have found that when I do steal time—as soon as humanly possible—in my day, I see a huge difference. I begin to crave that time in the same way I thirst for water.

“For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Heb. 4:12 ESV).

Praise God, he has not left us here in this strange land without a guidebook. Just as it says in Hebrews, the Word of the Lord is alive. It is active. It’s discerning the thoughts and intentions of our hearts. We can look to his Word to find comfort, strength, conviction, and wisdom. We can study it and, in learning more about God, learn more about ourselves.

It’s a lifelong pursuit. While the Word of the Lord is unchanging, the seasons of our lives are in constant motion. There is an ebb and flow with the tides of time that brings mountaintop moments of joy as well as long, dark treks through the valley of death. No matter where we find ourselves, his Word is alive. We can read words we might’ve read hundreds of times, and we’ll be able to draw new lessons from those same beloved Scriptures.

I’m so thankful for this guidebook we’ve been given. While we may be sojourners—temporary residents—here on this earth, we can face our journeys with confidence. Our Guide has not left us helpless or hopeless on this earthly journey home to heaven. He has given us a place to go for clear directions. I pray he gives us eyes to see and ears to hear and hearts to understand his words.

Ashley Doyle Pooser is a part-time writer and full-time wanderer. She is married to a travel nurse and homeschools her three kids on the road. She’s basically flying by the seat of her pants thirteen weeks at a time. You never know where you might cross paths with her, but you can bet she’ll be singing car karaoke and documenting all her shenanigans on Instagram at @thisonetinylife.

Photograph © Andrew Spencer, used with permission