Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.
Imagine that as I drive my new (to me) F-150 down the highway, suddenly a puff of smoke comes out of the tail pipe, the engine sputters for a second and then dies. I then let my truck coast down the highway until I can pull off into a parking lot.
At the entrance of the parking lot is a pretty shabby looking guy sitting on a park bench. After coming to a stop, I get out and pop the hood. Soon the homeless guy makes his way over to my truck and speaks, “you know I sit here every day and watch all types of cars and trucks drive by.” I respond with, “Oh, so you know how to fix them?” He shrugs, “You could say that.”
After relinquishing the engine compartment to him, I watch as he pulls out a couple of important looking hoses and wires. Under his breath he grunts, “This doesn’t look too important…” and “why would a car need one of these?” He finishes his “work” and steps away from the truck, slamming the hood closed. “Go ahead and fire her up, I think she’s ready,” he says confidently, as he stands in the pile of my truck’s removed hoses and wires. I hop in the cab and turn the key…and…nothing, absolutely nothing. Why? Because I just let a hobo rip stuff out from under my hood.
Now imagine that I never let the hobo touch my truck. Imagine rather that the parking lot that I pulled off the road into is the headquarters of the Ford company. As my truck rolls to a stop, a couple of guys come out the front door and with a look of concern one of them says, “Everything all right?” I explain to the guys about the smoke and the sputtering, and ask if they know of anything that could help me get my truck started. The older of the two replies, “Let me take a look. I am actually the lead mechanical engineer for Ford, and I designed and developed all the major engine components on the F-150.” In an instant, he is digging around under the hood using words that are so technical they sound almost made up. Moments later, he says, “Oh, here’s the problem,” and twists a part of the engine that I didn’t even know existed. Confidently he steps back and tells me to fire up the truck. After hopping in the cab, I turn the key, and the engine roars back to life.
What was the difference between the advice of the hobo and the mechanical engineer? One was a truck watcher and one was a truck maker. This is the point that the Psalmist is making when he starts out Psalm 1. Our lives are like the F-150. At times they sputter and smoke with problems. The foolish thing to do is to take advice from anyone other than the Maker. Even though at times others will offer advice with confidence, if it doesn’t come from the Maker then it will be absolutely worthless if not ultimately destructive.
Food For Thought: What phrase from Psalm 1:1 do you think today's devo highlighted?