Pitching Your Tent Toward Sodom

This morning's sermon was on Genesis 13:12 and how Lot pitched his tent toward Sodom.

I'd already known the title of the sermon and some of the points. I try to act as an attentive audience as my husband prepares his notes throughout the week, but if I hear too much of a sermon beforehand my mind tends to wander to grocery lists and meal menus during the service.

So even though I knew the gist of the message, I didn't know the details. Nor did I know the conviction that would accompany it.

I'd like to think of myself more as Abraham, leading the nations and following God faithfully.

But during the sermon I saw myself as Lot, receiving the fringe benefits instead of earning the wages.

But I don't pitch my tent toward Sodom, I meekly declared to the Lord. I am not living in sin, nor am I fixated on living like the world does. Of this, I was confident.

No, He said. You've pitched your tent on a carousel. In my mind's eye, I saw one of those little merry-go-rounds that make for great incentives in getting kids to behave in Wal-Mart. I've spent many post-shopping trips with kids and grandkids on the little horses, rewarded for patiently sitting in the cart throughout my shopping, while I impatiently waited for the cycle to end.

I could clearly see the things of God on one side and the things of the world on the other. And me, right there on the carousel, spinning dizzily around and around as my focus shifted.

He was right. That's exactly what I do.

My Sodom may not be sex and drugs, but it's love of money, and secular music, and tv shows that poke fun at sin.

What happens when the music stops? Where are you facing? He continued.

Somewhere different each time, I realized. Sometimes toward the Lord, sometimes toward the world. Yet others times I ride without ceasing. Around and around.

They call that being double-minded.

Here's the thing. As long as I want to stay on that carousel, He's going to keep feeding it quarters. That's His permissive will.

In His perfect will, I take my tent, face it toward Him, hang the OUT OF ORDER sign on the carousel, and cast not my eyes on the world ever again.

Did we learn nothing from Lot's wife? She turned into a pillar of salt.

We just turn into pillars of unrighteousness.

Where is your tent pitched? Near God, but facing the world? In the world? Facing God and with your back to the world?

Or are you like me, on a carousel, praying that the music doesn't stop when you're faced the wrong way?