Please note: This will be the last published entry until July 14. During the brief hiatus, please lift up the following youth and sponsors in prayer as we are in Tennessee on a mission trip: Ben, Sean, John, Stuart, Chris, Carlton, Aaron, Karen, Mary, Laura, Beth, Kindell, Anna, and Atalie. Thanks! Now, continuing with YouthAdvance!...

The most interesting thing happened to me yesterday (July 4)--

I was walking along the Brazos River with some friends and we came upon a turtle. The poor fella', Figaro (we'll call him that), was rolling around at the surface of the water, amongst some logs and debris. We all thought that was rather curious but continued on down the river until someone pointed out that Figaro was caught up in something. Upon further review, poor 'ole hapless Figaro was caught on a fishing line!

It was at this point that the St. Francis of Assisi came out in me. (While in college, I did an intensive project on this reknowned patron saint of the poor and non-human. As a result, a bit of my spirit was transfigured into that of his...so that when situations arise that involve the injury or death of animals, St. Francis comes to life within.)

So as everyone stood there fixed on Figaro and his deathly dilemma, I felt strangely compelled to step down into the muck. (I have a few choice words for St. Francis once we meet in Glory, let me just get that off my chest real quick. :) ) After positioning myself in the water and mud and drawing Figaro closer, I found that a hook was stuck in his mouth!

It looked pretty bleak as poor Figaro would stop moving for minutes at a time and then slowly show signs of life as he gasped for air at the surface. It began to look worse as I struggled to free him. With each tug of the line, which was wrapped tightly around several logs and his legs, Figaro would squeal and moan in pain. As my heart reeled over this, I eventually grabbed Figaro and began to work the hook out of his mouth. Continued moans and a bite of my finger were made as the process dragged on for minutes, which seemed like days.

As the water around Figaro and me turned red from our blood, I finally freed dear Figaro of the hook that snared him and the string that entangled him....only to see him immediately swim away without a glance back.

What do I have to show for it? Simply a scar on my finger and a few eyewitnesses. But there's the sweet feeling of knowing that Figaro is still part of the community of the Brazos River.

As the hours passed afterwards, it quickly became evident--Figaro and his mess was a picture perfect example of what I always get myself into...having to have God take me in to His hands and free me.

You ready for the meat???...then let's go!....

As I look back at Figaro, I'm often reminded that I tend to get wrapped up and caught in sin. And like Figaro and the hook, I routinely get attracted to sin's outer-coating that uses curiosity to draw me in. And once sin's hook is planted, its so easy to get wrapped and tangled up in its line.

Paul encourages us in Hebrews 12:1 to throw off the sin that so easily entangles us.... Its so important for us to do this before we get wrapped up in it--much like Figaro was in the fishing line.

A second illustration I got from Figaro's fiasco was that of his pain and response to it. In order for me to pull the hook out of his mouth, I had to cause Figaro more pain...I had to wiggle the hook and, at times, tighten the string around him. To hear Figaro squeal in agony nearly caused me to quit...but I knew death was certain if I did not free him, so I continued. Even after Figaro snapped at me and bit my finger, I persisted for his sake. Isn't God the same way? In order for healing to begin, additional pain sometimes has to be endured. In the story of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), the wine used to clean the injured man's wounds smarted....but was soon soothed by the rubbing oil. How do we respond in such situations?

Finally, once Figaro was released, he immediately swam to the depths of the water without as much as a look of gratitude. It hurts for me to say this...but I see so much of myself in this instance. How often has God healed or rescued me, only for me to completely blow Him off? Nine times out of ten? Its seems certainly possible...especially after reading Luke 17:11-19. In this passage, Christ healed 10 men of leprosy, only to have 1 come back to thank Him.

I wonder what Figaro is doing right now...maybe napping...or snacking...or leisurely swimming around. But if he's anything like me, he's probably got himself in another mess. I'm not sure how many times Figaro has to fall into traps before he learns his lesson....but I know that I wonder if I've even learned my lesson yet.

Have you?