Spiritual Milk… but Not That Kind

“We forget to pray, we forget to read our Bibles, we forget to meditate on the Word. We walk through life never really thinking about these things because, why do we need to? Things are going alright.”

If you thought you were about to read the 5 billionth blog post about that verse in 1 Peter 2, I cant fault you. The title is misleading, but thats kind of my thing. Gotcha!

We're going to talk about something a little different today.

There's this really funny thing that happens in Oklahoma—and I'm sure we're not a standout among other places, but I haven't lived other places, so gimme a break. About 3 or 4 days before a cold front blows through, some of the local TV weather personalities get together and they start talking about how their personal investments in bread, milk, and eggs are waning and they could use a boost, and in one accord they all snap their fingers and say "Got it! A blizzard!" so they go on TV and announce the most snow we've ever seen. Then the weather comes and goes, everyone makes the same joke about meteorologists getting paid even when they're wrong, then the meteorologists retort "something something math something something models, you wouldn't understand." Then everyone goes on with their normal little lives.

Everyone except the meteorologists, that is. Because they of course just cashed in on all the milk, bread, and eggs that just got sold.

That last part is probably more conspiracy theory than anything else. But I'm watching you, TV weathermen... I'm watching you…

Anyway, in all seriousness, it is actually that last bit I want to talk about. Kind of. Not the part about the weathermen, but about the milk, eggs, and bread.

You see, I was walking through the grocery store this evening grabbing a few things just while I was out. Some coffee, some cereal, etc. And I noticed the milk section was nearly completely empty. Having lived in Oklahoma my entire life and knowing how things usually pan out, I can't help but get a little chuckle when I see this. Because in my three decades of my life here, I can think of probably 3 or 4 times total that weather would have prevented me from being able to get to the store and get what I need. Things just don't get that bad here.

But whats even funnier to me is the pattern of consumption that springs up in these circumstances.

I can go to the store on any given afternoon, and I could walk away with any variety of milk I wanted, in multiple different brands. Heck, I could fill several shopping carts full of milk and still leave enough for other folks. My point is, pretty much any time you go to the store when weather hasn't been sensationally announced, you're going to find as much milk as you want.

But when we hear there might be bad weather, something happens. A switch flips. Maybe its primal, maybe its something else. I wont pretend to be smart enough to sort that out, but its clear that whatever happens in our brains, suddenly our "needs" change. People who don't even use milk start running out and buying it. Nevermind the fact that they wont go through even a half gallon in a week, this three day weather event definitely merits a stocking up on at least 2 gallons.

But as I stood there, admiring and pondering human predictability, I also realized this is kind of a perfect analogy for our faith lives a lot of times.

For many of us, it can be easy to go through life without thinking much about spiritual disciplines. When times are good, we're often focused on the good times. We forget to pray, we forget to read our Bibles, we forget to meditate on the Word. We walk through life never really thinking about these things because, why do we need to? Things are going alright.

But then, something happens.

A tragedy, a hardship of some kind. A family member dies, or you lose a job, or a new war breaks out, and then in droves we turn to the things of our faith. Now if your toes are a little sore, I'm sorry, but trust me, friend, I'm right here with you. I already stomped all over my own. But hang with me.

See, our spiritual lives are a lot like that empty milk case.

We experience the spiritual bad weather and we rush to embrace those things which have been there all along. But as the days pass and the temperatures rise and the sun comes out, slowly the stock returns to normal levels, our trials and tribulations are behind us, and we quickly forget that we ever had a taste for milk in the first place.

We're not alone here, though. Think back to the Israelites.

I mean, besides the most important focus which is ultimately a narrative path to ultimate atonement in Christ, another main story line of the Old Testament is just how frequently God's people forget Him and His commands. To the point, in fact, that as Moses is on his way out, knowing he isn't entering the Promised Land, and writing his farewell address to the people, he writes "Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children's children." (Deuteronomy 4:9)

You're not alone here, friends. Our spiritual forefathers all the way back thousands of years failed at this the same way you an I do. But the beautiful thing is that God in His infinite sovereignty and wisdom saw fit to preserve for us these examples, and we can learn from them.

On this side of Heaven, you'll never be perfect.

You're going to have tough days.

Life is going to get hard, but just as Moses reminded the Israelites, remember the God who has carried you through those times before, remember the milk, and consume it steadily and often.

Don't wait to stock up until you need it, but build up an appetite and a habit for the things of God today.