Are you imitating Peter again?

I was 12, going on 13, when a classmate asked if I wanted to go to the Denver Coliseum with her and her family for a "revival" meeting.

I didn't receive many invitations from classmates. I was kind of scrawny and ill-kempt, at that awkward stage that at the time seemed as though it would last forever. Besides, the classmate extending the invitation was new to our school, so I surmised that she hadn't been warned off yet, and I thought to chance accepting her invitation, really wanting someone to call friend. And so, I accepted.

As it turned out, we didn't become fast friends. Her family moved even more often than mine and within weeks they were gone.

But I did find a steadfast friend that October evening in 1968. His name is Jesus. The coliseum seats thousands. Five minutes into the events, it may as well have had seating for one. The message that night seemed directed solely at me and I could have no more resisted the altar call at the end than flown to the moon, with or without NASA's assistance.

My heart achingly full, I was ill-prepared for my mother's tentative warning to be on guard against "some religions." (It seems important to note that I've no idea who sponsored the revival, no idea who the gifted speaker was, and no idea of the organization's doctrinal statement. All I knew then and all I know now, is that I met Jesus that night.)

Mom meant well, but her cold-water therapy tempered my spirit and, though I remembered and remember still, that momentous encounter, I soon became, again, the same scrawny, awkward and ill-kempt adolescent. Soon, I would discover boys and the resulting romances served to silence the disquiet of my heart for many years.

I was 25, going on 26, when that soul disquiet, reawakened after marriage and motherhood had failed to quench it, moved me to follow Jesus' admonition to baptism and to a rededication of my heart, given 13 years earlier to following him.

My heart again achingly full, I was ill-prepared for a dear friend's chilling admonition the following day. Sharing my experience with her, I confessed that I had, without any plan to do so, laid aside a bad habit after coming up out of the water of baptism. She immediately assured me that this was a temporary situation that would quickly pass.

She was right. Deflated after our phone conversation, which hadn't gone at all as I had envisioned it, I soon picked that bad habit up and it remains with me today. Plagued by guilt and shame, it would be years before I would again answer the call to faith, the call I answer every morning, sometimes ending with a good report at day's end, sometimes not.

Neither my mom nor my friend would take lightly the notion that at those particular moments in time, they were imitating Peter. Not Peter at his exuberant best; no matter what I'll follow you, Lord. Not Peter at that faith-defining moment when he answers Jesus, "You are the Christ." And not Peter, humbled to the core by his denial of the Lord on the most critical night of human history.

But the Peter that stood accused by the Lord in Matthew when he admonished Jesus, "Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you!".

Jesus responded, "Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men." (Matthew 17:22, 23)

These are only two pivotal encounters from my own experience when I was distracted from the things of God. And though the words and actions come from people I knew and loved, you can be sure the enemy was behind it.

It's important to understand some truths about the nature of the enemy. He takes little notice of those who are in and of the world. They are, after all, his by default and moving along quite nicely on the broad path that leads to destruction with little or no encouragement from him.

It's when someone takes a single step in the direction of the narrow way that he sits up and takes notice. Then all manner of roadblocks spring up, not the least of which our all-too human nature of independence and autonomy. He manages to derail many a seeking soul by reminding them of all that they'll have to "give up" if they want to follow Jesus, how their life won't be their own, how people will look at them differently, etc., etc. Does this strike a resounding chord?

How about the argument of doubt? The voice that whispers that there really can't be a loving and powerful God or else why would bad things happen to good people, and babies die of starvation in far away lands, etc., etc. Is this a more familiar refrain?

Favorite ploys of the enemy.

But, when those ploys fail, and a heart turns from sin to righteousness, from hell to heaven, from self to Christ, the enemy kicks into high gear. Oh, the soul of the believer is secure. But what of his witness?

Forgiven, we fail to forgive.

Covered in Christ's righteousness, we wallow in a pig sty of sin and lust.

Though daily bread is provided as promised, we deem it insufficient and become thieves.

Thus afflicted we hear, "God can't use you, you're weak, you're a loser, you're of no account, no one will listen to you..."

I lived under those clouds of doubt far too long. The enemy capitalized on my weakness du jour. So it is today for some believers, therefore, a woman who needs forgiveness but finds it missing is turned forever onto the broad path and the man who wants only to be cleansed from the filth of the pig sty finds no welcome at our door and so never knocks at heaven's door.

What can be done to avoid this persecution, this constant nagging from God's enemy and ours? We have two options.

The first is, simply, be still. Fold your hands quietly while in the pew and when out in public and do not speak of matters of faith, lest you offend or worse, turn attention to your own shortcomings. But know this fully and well; while you then remain safe and unmolested, strangers, neighbors, friends, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, mothers and fathers perish. Forever.

The second is to recognize the voice of the enemy, just as Jesus did, and to respond, just as Jesus did, and then, when the enemy falls silent, and he will, pursue the will of God.

"How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?" Romans 10:14 (NIV)

Things you won't see in heaven: Calendars