“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end” (Jeremiah 29:11).
Chances are, you’ve seen this verse a thousand times. So have I. But over the past couple of days, I’ve seen it with a different perspective. You see, almost every time I hear this verse, it’s the translation that reads “plans” instead of “thoughts.” There’s nothing wrong with either one, but the word “thoughts” has hit me recently.
You approach someone, ready to give him or her a high-five. Then, all of sudden, that someone’s hand doesn’t meet yours. Only to be left hangin’.
How do you feel? Abandoned? Ignored? By yourself? And eventually, you just stop giving high-fives entirely because you feel it just doesn’t work anyway.
Third Street looked like a spooky scene from a movie. It was around seven o’clock in the morning, and fog rested freely on the town. I can witness this because I was there. The GPS watch on my left wrist and iPhone sleeve on my right arm were about to assist me in my run. Turning around wasn’t even an option in my mind, so I ran through it.
I know fog doesn’t harm anybody; therefore, running through it isn’t such a big deal. But I tell you this short story because God gave me a word to share with you based on it. Truth is, you’ve been on a foggy road, too.
A 2016 Kia Sorento occupies a space in the garage of a person I know.
Okay, okay, I know what you’re thinking: “Duh! That’s what all cars do.” Let me rephrase that statement: It only occupies a space in the garage.
It’s probably on its second tank of gas in over a year of ownership! The wheels are spotless, the car is scratch-less, the engine – barely used – is powerless.