My granddaughters (alias “cutie pies”) love to play a game called Whack-A-Mole (which sounds like guacamole without the ‘ole on the end).  They have a small bat to hit a mole on the head when that mole's helmet lights up.  The four moles heads and hats are controlled by a simple electronic circuit that makes it a great guessing game as to which mole will light up next.

The problem with whacking the moles is that lots of moles get whacked when it's not their turn!  If they could talk they might say “why did you hit me, I didn't do anything wrong – I didn't even light up!”

If the person doing the whacking is a mother or father, they might reply “well there were lots of times when you should have been whacked but didn't get whacked because I didn't see what you did.”

Or if the whack-er is a brother or sister, they might say “I didn't whack you, Sally (or Mike) did!”

Or those who are not conflict oriented might say “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to whack you – will you forgive me?”

And the type A personalities (don't you just love ‘em?) would no doubt say “I have the bat in my hand and it's my turn and….”

Aren't you glad God doesn't play Whack-A-Mole on us all the time?

If He whacks me it's because He's working something in or out of me. He NEVER whacks me just for the fun of it!

It's my observation that few people do very well with the bat.  Maybe it's a contemporary version of “don't try to take the tiny piece of wood in someone else's eye until you remove the board from your own!?!”

 

Pastor Mark