FireQuill Publications
The
Short Stories, Plays and Bible Studies of Kathy Kearney
The
Short Stories, Plays and Bible Studies of Kathy Kearney
Your Subtitle text
Believe the Compass
"BELIEVE THE COMPASS" By: Kathy Kearney (c) 1996 One of my favorite writers is Louise Dickenson Rich. Louise and her family lived deep in the Maine woods. So deep that you brought in supplies twice a year. If you miscalculated and ran out of canned milk, you made biscuits with water, ate your cereal dry, and hoped for an early thaw. But Louise, her husband, and two children thrived in their forest primeval. A trip to the "outside" as she called town only hastened her desire to return to her beloved forest depths. One night a terrible storm awakened Louise and her family. She and her husband gathered the kids into their room where they huddled all night listening as the forest crashed madly about them. They fully expected to be crushed under a roof-crushing pine before daylight. Next morning they discovered a landscape that looked as though a giant child had thrown a tinker toy tantrum. Huge, hundred-year old trees had been snapped in two and hurled great distances by the rampaging wind. The carnage was eerie and frightening. Next to a forest fire it was the most devastating thing that could happen in the woods. Later that day, Emily had to hike to a pond some miles away to check on damage. The usual method of relying upon landmarks was impossible. The familiar groves and clumps of trees were either severely altered or altogether gone. A friend walked over to her as she looked in puzzlement at the mess before her. He held out a compass to her. “Pin this to your shirt,” he admonished her. “Follow its directions, do not rely your own senses, and above all, do not give in to any impulse that you are headed in the wrong direction. Always believe the compass.”. Much ado about nothing, Louise grudgingly thought as she set off with the compass pinned inside her shirt pocket. As she marched over the rise beyond the house, the handyman's cry sallied over the devastated landscape reminding her to believe the compass. Using the compass, Louise trod an uneventful journey to the pond. Upon completion of her task, she headed for home. After about fifteen minutes, she had the distinct impression she was walking in the wrong direction. She checked the compass again. No, she was headed correctly. But it couldn't be right. She felt she was veering to the left. Surely, she needed to turn right. Every five minutes she checked the compass, and every five minutes it told her she was on target. But it must be wrong, she thought in a panic. It simply did not feel right. She found herself fighting down a rising urge to cut to the right. As she struggled to obey the compass, it was as though something alive twisted and turned inside her, demanding that she swerve from the direction to which the compass pointed. By now she didn't know if it was her best friend, or her worst enemy. Suddenly, trembling and in a cold sweat, she broke into the clearing around the house. Now all the stories Louise had heard about hunters who had perished in the woods with compasses in their pockets took on new meaning. They had walked to their deaths in circles because they chose to believe the gyrating guide of their own instincts over the truth of their compasses. During my first months as a new Christian, I didn't know any other believers. I was a freshman in college, living 300 miles from home. So I roved from church to church on Sundays dragging my reluctant, but game non-Christian roommate with me. I did not have the slightest idea of what to look for; I only knew I should be attending church--some church, any church. Then a classmate in my nine o'clock English class invited me to an Inter Varsity Christian Fellowship Bible study. It was there that I fell in love with the Bible. I read it voraciously, packing huge chunks of passages and chapters into my memory. There didn't seem to be any question that my wise Intervarsity Christian Fellowship counselors and teachers from a nearby seminary couldn't answer from Scripture. Wow! Why wasn't everyone getting into this Bible, I wondered. Then one evening, John, a friend from high school came for a visit. He was attending a local college 30 miles away from the one I attended. He actually came to see my roommate, but since she was out we talked. I told him all about the exciting things that had happened. He was overjoyed, telling me that he too had found God. We talked for a long time. A couple of days later he called and invited me to dinner with him the next weekend to his aunt and uncle's. They too, he assured me, loved the Bible, and we would have a great time together. All that week I looked forward to Saturday night, not just for the dinner, but because I liked John too. He was handsome and fun, and because we had a different circle of friends in high school, I was enjoying our new friendship. Saturday night arrived and so did John. We chatted excitedly during the drive to his aunt and uncle's house. He was as genuinely taken with his new faith as I was with mine and our sharing was fun. His aunt and uncle, a young couple in their mid-twenties, welcomed John with affection and me with a gracious hospitality. I thoroughly enjoyed the ebb and flow of conversation during dinner. I remember thinking that this would be the kind of marriage and home I would love to have one day. During dessert they asked me about my new beliefs. I enthusiastically related my story finishing with, "I accepted Christ about three months ago. Before coming to know Him, I was ready to commit suicide. I can't describe the joy I have in my heart knowing that every one of my sins is forgiven, and that when I die I will go to heaven." I waited for their joyful acknowledgement. Instead, they looked at each other, frowned and cleared their throats. Then John's uncle said. "Kathy, your sins are not forgiven. Christ died only for the sins of Adam. You now have the privilege of earning your salvation by living a good life to gain heaven." My heart spiraled downward taking my newfound joy with it. Could it be that John 3:16 along with the other verses I had learned during Intervarsity Bible studies been falsely interpreted? But surely this nice couple wouldn't lie to me. They were so good, look at their home, their happiness. They radiated genuineness and affection. I looked at John for support. His sympathetic smile told me that he agreed with his aunt and uncle. I was so sad. I wasn't saved after all, but still in sin and back to square one. During the drive back to Pasadena, John asked me to attend church with him the next weekend. Numbly I accepted. If these people were right and there was some hope in works, I would check it out. Monday as I vainly attempted studying in the student lounge, Lois, one of our Intervarsity counselors came over to my table. "Hi, Kathy. How's things?" I found myself pouring the events of Saturday evening into her ever-available ear. "Are they right, Lois? I am so confused. I thought when Christ came into my life that He forgave my sins. I was so happy and now I don't know what's true." Lois listened without interrupting. When I finished she gently asked, "In other words, does the Bibles teach that you have to work your way to heaven?" She reached for her Bible. "Well, let's check it out." She turned to Ephesians 2:8, pointing out that we are saved by grace through faith, and not by works. "But let's see what Jesus said to someone who had to know right away." She turned in Luke 23 to the story of the thief on the cross. Together we read the passage. Lois smiled as she asked, "Did the thief have time to jump off his cross and go do some good deeds?" "No," I said. "He needed to have his sins forgiven right then and there so he could go to heaven." "And what did Jesus say?" "This day you will be with me in paradise." "Do you think the Lord lied?" "Of course not." "Well then, who do you believe, Kathy? A nice, friendly couple who look and sound good, or God's word?" A simple answer. A true answer. From then until now I remain firmly convinced that God's Word is truth -- always. Just as Louise kept believing the compass when everything within her said she was heading in the wrong direction, we too must follow the compass of God's word holding anything or anyone up to it's light. So if your life's landscape is strewn with buried paths and rocky ways, and when people with their experiences or information about how to know God come out to meet you on your journey--believe the Compass of God, His Word. It will lead you safely home. |
Kathy Kearney, published author of Christian short stories, Christian articles, Plays, Monologues, Old Fashioned Melodrama's -- Also Bible Study Teacher and public speaker. Her Bible Studies are on the site a Blog format! Please check back - OFTEN!!
ALSO -- Don't forget to sign the guest book.
ALSO -- Don't forget to sign the guest book.
Thank you for visiting FireQuill Publications!
Be sure to visit our sponsor for your credit needs
If you smoke and want to quit I have just the site that can help - Please visit our sponsor -The Stop Smoking Source!
Be sure to visit our sponsor for your credit needs
If you smoke and want to quit I have just the site that can help - Please visit our sponsor -The Stop Smoking Source!
