Cnr of Park Rd and MacMahon St, Hurstville Sundays at 9:30 am and 6:30 pm

Spies in the bedroom

I’m sure my neighbours are spying on me. They must be. For as soon as I lie down to have a rest, one of them invariably starts their mower, or the boy next door immediately begins his violin practice. It’s uncanny. All is calm, until I put my head on the pillow, and then the noise begins. How do they do it, again and again, with such precision and timing? Do they have a camera in my room, or a telescope aimed at my window?

There was once a king who raised a similar complaint, albeit the issue was slightly more important than an afternoon rest. The king of Syria was complaining that there was a spy in his ranks, else how did the enemy know the position of his army and their movements. He was told that there was not a spy, but a prophet (Elisha), who knew by supernatural means what the king was whispering in his bedroom!

That’s a sober thought. All I do is seen by God. Nothing is hid. No secret kept. But all open to the eyes of Him who sees all. That was once a hard knowledge to live by. In my days before knowing grace, the idea of a divine watcher frightened me. But now his grace has changed all that. For it is my Father who watches. And though he is just and holy, he knows me and loves me, and that encourages me to try to walk in more holy ways.

DM 27th October 2020


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