Hearing a clatter one morning, I looked down and gasped. It was the electric razor my wife had bought me for Christmas, and it was in pieces on the floor. I knew she had gone to some trouble to purchase it, and I wondered what to do. Fortunately, she wasn’t home. That was a great break for me, because I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what had happened.
But as I sat there dejectedly, with my head in my hands, a fantastic idea popped into my mind. Reaching for the phone, I called my best buddy, who could fix anything that didn’t run away.
“My partner Fred left town this morning,” he snapped in a clipped tone that I wasn’t used to, as our families were friends. “I’m sorry, but I’m really backed up right now. Maybe I can take a look at it this afternoon, but I won’t have any free time until then.”
“That’s fine. I’ll drop it off this morning,” I said with a sigh of relief. “I sure hope you can fix it.”
Full of new life, I put the razor pieces in a plastic bag, jumpped in my car, and sped off.
I got there in record time, but after standing in a long line, my feet had begun to hurt. Finally, I was next in line. As he wrapped things up, I heard Fred telling the customer, “So long, but please understand I can’t guarantee anything. I’ll do my best. The amount I charge you will be based on what I can do.”
“That’s fine, the customer chortled as he walked out the door.
“Hi, Fred,” I said as I moved forward and handed him my bag of razor pieces. Whistling, he eyed the bag’s contents.
“I don’t know if I can do anything. That razor’s pretty busted up,” Fred admitted. “I may be able to salvage the motor and put a new body on it, but it would be cheaper just to buy a new one.”
“Do what you have to,” I replied. “It’s important. But don’t tell my wife. If you need me, call my cell, not my land line.”
Then Fred was a real nice guy, but he tended to ask a lot of questions, so I hurried out. I was about to be late for work for the third time in a row, and the boss wouldn’t think twice about giving me my walking papers.
It had just rained and the roads were slick, but I had to get to work. Luckily, I knew this town like the back of my hand, so I took shortcuts and cranked the engine up all the way on the dirt roads. These were little access roads that most people didn’t know about, so they were sparcely patroled.
Because of this, I wasn’t watching where I was going, and suddenly a truck came roaring out of a clump of trees. It was headed right towards me, and the collision seemed unavoidable.
I prayed like I hadn’t in years. Then an idea came into my mind like a flash. Swerving with all my might, I only hoped the old fence would hold. It was a long shot, but I knew with everything in me that I had to try. Luck wasn’t with me, nowever. I plunged right through the fence, and I felt myself falling down, down, down … until I hit the bottom.
I woke up in a daze, all alone in a strange room. A few minutes later, someone came into the room where I lay. He introduced himself as Dr. Carlson, and he told me I was lucky to be alive. But when I tried to talk, he held up his hand and told me to be quiet.
“Your wife has gone home to get some much-needed rest,” he continued, “and you have been in the hospital for the last two days. You’re the first man to be found alive at the bottom of God’s Warning.”
As he walked out, it all began to come back to me. I cringed as I thought about the double life I had lived up until that point. I had been trying to straddle both sides of the fence, living both for the world and for Jesus.
“God,” I cried, “I have really messed up my life, but if You still want me, I’m Yours from now on.”
I didn’t feel any great sense of peace or have a sensational experience, like you may have read about. But strangely enough, a picture of that razor came into my head.
At first it was fuzzy, but then, as if I was a photographer focusing a camera, it became sharper and clearer. I saw it lying precariously on the edge of the sink.
“That must have been what happened. My hand must have hit it, and it fell and broke.”
Then, as though I were watching a slide show, I saw the next picture in my mind. The razor was in pieces, and then in the plastic bag. When it vanished, I just lay there, wondering what that picture could mean.
Then a still, small voice seemed to whisper into my heart. “Son, your life is a lot like that razor.”
“What do you mean?” I cried out in my mind.
The voice seemed to sob broken-heartedly. “You, too, have been living on the edge, just like many of My children.”
Then, as though my mind was a blank canvas, the words from Matthew 11:28, which I had memorized as a child, were painted there in bright colors. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Lord, forgive us for walking on the edge of life, and order our steps so that we can walk on Your path as we come to You in a new way. We thank and glorify You today. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Thank you for reading this, and may the Lord give you a wonderful week! We are trying to reach people who are hurting, so if God lays it on your heart, please consider becoming a partner with us. If you would like to make a donation, please visit www.hcmachaplains.org and click on the Donate Now link. You can also send donations by mail to HCMA (Healthcare Chaplains Ministry Association). Our ID number is 560. The address is 101 S Kraemer BLVD, Suite 123A, Placentia, CA 92870.
Finally, you’re always welcome to join our Tuesday night Bible study. These studies are conducted by conference call, and they take place at 5:30 PM Arizona time. Our conference number is 313-209-8800. Our PIN is 8699032. We hope to talk with you soon!
If you have questions, comments or prayer requests for Timothy or Stephanie Burdick, please call 507-369-6861.