What’s the best warning you ever got?
I’ll let you interpret “best.” You could go with most memorable, most helpful, or most ridiculous.
Most warnings begin with some form of “DON’T.”
Don’t swim after a big meal. Don’t eat food beyond the expiration date. Don’t drink and drive. Don’t run with scissors.
Some warnings are based on fables, others on preferences, and still others on legitimate dangers.
I think the best warning I ever got is “Don’t do stupid stuff.”
That one seems to cover most of the bases—if only there were a consistent definition of “stupid.”
I saw a great meme recently that explained the difference between a severe weather watch and a severe weather warning. The meme used tacos.
A taco watch was a picture of a head of lettuce, a tomato, an onion, a block of cheese, and a pound of ground beef.
A taco warning was a picture of … wait for it … a taco.
It’s all about how close the “danger” is.
I have obviously digressed a long way from the headline about running with scissors. I promise I’m winding my way back.
This morning I read a portion of Psalm 119. At 176 verses, this psalm is the longest of the 150 psalms in our Bible; it is actually the longest chapter in our Bible as it now appears (chapter divisions were not in the original documents).
This verse caught my attention today:
“I run in the path of your commands, for you have broadened my understanding.”
(Psalm 119:32)
I do not in any way consider myself a “runner” unless the definition of “runner” is “one who sometimes—on rare occasions—runs.” I have, however, done a bit of running over the course of my life.
One thing I know about running is that If I’m running an unfamiliar path I’m more likely to move tentatively and hesitantly. I’m looking for potential hazards and dangers. I approach corners cautiously because I don’t know what it looks like around the bend.
If I’ve learned the path, I can run with confidence and freedom. That doesn’t mean that I’m not paying attention to the surroundings. It just means that, having learned the course allows me to pick up the pace, keep moving forward, and push myself a bit more toward the goal.
I’ve been following Jesus for 53 years. I’ve been seriously seeking to learn, grow, and guide others on the path for over 40 years. My understanding of how to “run” has been broadened and I’m still seeking to learn more because my race is not completed.
That’s the running part.
Now, back to the scissors.
“Don’t run with scissors” is not an inviolable law. There are ways to run with scissors safely, but none of us is born with that innate understanding. We have to learn—to have our understanding broadened.
The moment we think we have learned everything there is to learn is the moment we put ourselves—and others—at risk.
Keep learning, keep running, and be amazing today, my friend.
