As a kid, I knew about drifting. My dad drilled in to me the dangers of it. Every year when I was growing up, my dad and mum would take us kids on an annual trip to Umina Beach, just an hour’s drive north of Sydney, where we lived. It was a getaway we all looked forward to … but going for a summer holiday also meant swimming against a strong undertow.
Knowing that we could be swept out to sea, my dad coached us every year about the dangers of the undercurrent and what to do if we felt ourselves being pulled under or away from the shore.
Then, once we were out on the beach, he had a routine for keeping us safe. He would set up an umbrella in the sand — always one so vivid we couldn’t miss it.
After Dad positioned the umbrella, he would walk down the beach a short distance and essentially make a flag out of an equally brilliantly colored beach towel and a pole, standing it up in the sand. There was no mistaking Dad’s handiwork, even from way out in the water. But that was the point.
Before he let us run into the surf, he would make us huddle up and listen to his instructions: “The undertow is really strong today, so when you’re out there in the water, I need you to look up every now and again and check your markers. There’s the umbrella, and there’s the towel. Make sure you’re between the two of them. If you find yourself outside the markers, make your way to shore and walk back. If you look up every now and again and check your markers, you’ll be fine.”
The writer of Hebrews knew something about drifting, too. Hebrews 2:1 says, “Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.” The writer was speaking to all of us, knowing that any of us at any stage of life could find ourselves in a place we never intended to be.
Not only had I heard words of warning like this from my dad but from my mother, too. I learned to speak Greek before I spoke English, and my mother always spoke to us in Greek. When she wanted to really get something across to my two brothers and me, she would use the same words the writer of Hebrews uses: perissoteros prosechein. When she spoke these words, her tone would be urgent and instructive — she was telling us to be careful and pay extra attention, usually to something critical for our well-being.
Perissoteros prosechein. “Pay extra attention,” the writer of Hebrews said.
Why? Lest you drift. It’s as though the writer knew that the more familiar we became, the less attention we would pay — to God, His Word and His ways. The more we learned, the more likely we would take it all for granted — and miss the awe of our salvation.
My dad not only knew how easy it was to drift, but he also knew there was an even greater danger if we did.
No matter how good a swimmer each of us kids was, no matter how confident, how strong, how knowledgeable we were of the sea and her currents, if we drifted too far, then drowning was the real threat. Dad knew one could lead to the other, so he first did all he could to keep us from drifting.
So did the writer of Hebrews.
Pay attention.
Lest you drift.
When we begin to drift in any area of our lives, it’s subtle. Hardly even noticeable. Barely detectable. It’s not a deliberate step we take but more like a gradual slip. We don’t drift because we aren’t strong or haven’t walked with Christ for many years. It just happens.
But once it does, if we don’t look up and check our markers, we will be taken places we never wanted to go — emotionally, physically, relationally or spiritually. There is no aspect of our lives that is immune from drifting and no single person who is not prone to drift.
Thankfully, though, we have a Savior who understands our tendency to drift because He experienced the undertow of humanity. (Hebrews 2:18) We have a Holy Spirit inside of us who whispers warnings when we start to drift. (John 14:26) And we have a heavenly Father who loves us, wants the best for us and is standing on the shore, arms spread wide, ready for us to come running back home.
Heavenly Father, please help me pay much closer attention. Help me look up and check my markers, so I can locate where I might be drifting in my life. I want to stay on course, serving You, fulfilling all the purpose You have for me. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
