I have often told you about my dad being a foreman in the wood’s camps of old. How often I would trudge behind him from crew to crew as he directed the daily operations. His size-eleven boots would sink into the mud and I would try and place my size-seven feet into the same spot. Walking in his tracks was a game I played in my mind. My desire was to be like him, telling others what to do. He quit making tracks at the age of sixty-three and I never became a foreman.
Thankfully, in life I discovered another Father who makes spiritual tracks and I’m trying to follow them. One of these days, that effort will come to an abrupt end and our tracks will converge in heaven. Until that time, I often think of this verse.
It has given me great joy to find some of your children walking in the truth, just as the Father commanded us.
Give it some thought.
Gary