Cal Jernigan – Senior Pastor
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. You seriously have got to be kidding me. Who in their right mind would think this way? Three weeks? Only three weeks? Why only three weeks? Yet three weeks was clearly all the time they had.
Only three weeks for what? Is this the time left before someone dies? Or someone loses their job? Or someone walks out of their marriage? Nope. But clearly there was only three weeks to get it done.
Get what done? Only three weeks to build a treehouse. Yep, build a treehouse. You see, I was watching the show TreeHouse Masters, a show I had heard about but never actually seen. As I was flipping through the channels, there it was, in living birch. Aren’t treehouses and relaxation supposed to be synonymous?
Apparently, on this exciting episode, they were building a “honeymoon house” for a couple that was getting married in twenty-one days. Only three short weeks to prepare for marital bliss. Thus, the rush. They had to get this treehouse designed, fabricated, built and furnished in only three weeks. Oh yeah… there was also a metal ladder that needed to be built to reach a “crow’s nest” two hundred feet up this same tree which also needed to be designed, constructed and installed. No honeymoon hideaway would ever be complete without one of these. There was just no time to waste.
It was then that it dawned on me. As people, we are just plain weird! As strange as it sounds, we apparently like to panic. We like being under the gun. We like time pressure. Urgency both interests and intrigues us. We enjoy the thrill of racing against a deadline. Think about it. How many popular shows pit the participants against the clock (cooking, home or car renovations, designing fashions, etc.)? On these shows you have to design it, or build it, or renovate it, or buy it, or sell it or… all before time runs out. This is how we seem to like it best—in a hurry. Crunch time.
And yet, this seems very odd to me. How much of the really important stuff in life is ever truly urgent? Seriously, how much of the really important has to be done “right now?” Further, how much of the urgent stuff you deal with every day is ever really important?
We all know the genuinely important issues in life are the ones that have the biggest consequences and the longest time implications. For example, getting things right with God, securing your place in eternity, or reconciling a broken relationship. Yet how loudly or how urgently do these issues scream out to us? What happens if we don’t take care of these “this very minute?” Possibly nothing, but is it worth the risk of running out of time?
One minute after Christ returns, what will you wish you had committed more time to regarding the condition of your “spiritual house?” Can I kindly suggest you do that now? That’s a house that matters! That’s a house that’s both important—and urgent! Now!