As a child, my mother would remind me, “Be home before it gets dark.” It was not hard to comply with her mandate, if I wanted to. I didn’t need a watch or a sundial. I just kept my eyes open. The day grew dim. Dusk reminded me of mom’s expectation and I made my way home before dark. If I waited too long and got lost in the night, I might never come home. I could be hit by a car, lost in the woods, or snatched by a stranger. I was as dense as most boys my age, but this one thing I well understood… I should not make my mother cry. I could endure My dad’s wrath, but not my mother’s tears.
Mom was the prophet Jeremiah to me:
“Give glory to the Lord your God before He causes darkness, and before your feet stumble 0n the dark mountains, and while you are looking for light, He turns it into the shadow of death and makes it dense darkness.
But if you will not hear it, My soul will weep in secret for your pride; My eyes will weep bitterly and run down with tears, because the Lord’s flock has been taken captive,” (Jeremiah 13.16-17 NKJV).
