“…but if our gospel is hid, it is hid to those who are perishing.” (II Corinthians 4:3)
Yesterday, four somewhat frustrating things happened to me. It took the fourth one before I began to see a pattern.
After spending the night at a hotel in Jonesboro, Arkansas, and before departing for my destination in MIssouri, I decided to see Arkansas State University. The desk clerk gave directions and I drove to the campus, about a mile away. A directory on the side of the street told how to find the student center, which is normally where one will locate a campus store so I can pick up a t-shirt with the school emblem. It appeared to be simple: down this street, turn right. Oops. Construction work is going on there. So maybe I missed a sign. Yes, there it is. Turn right here. Free parking for visitors, the sign said. It’s not a big school; this shouldn’t be difficult.
Down that street–the one clearly marked as the direction of the student center–permanent barriers were embedded, blocking it off. The only thing accessible there was the post office. I pulled in, turned around, and left, deciding that a visit to Arkansas State was not on the agenda for me today.
Five minutes later, on my way out of the city, on the left side of the four-lane highway stood a Wal-mart. I needed a couple of things and decided to run by. Should be simple, right?
After exiting, I had to make a decision: whether to go to the right or left on a highway paralleling US 63. I chose “left,” drove 100 yards, then turned right and circled back over the highway. There should be a left turn here that would take me back to the Wal-mart. No left turn. I drove a few country blocks, turned in someone’s driveway, then returned, looking for directions. No street or driveway exited to my right in the direction of the store. I gave up and re-entered US 63 and drove on.
A mile out of town, I passed a church. Now, this area of Arkansas seems to have a church for every 50 people, so there was nothing unusual about that. What was strange was that across the entrance stood a huge gate barring anyone from the parking lot. What was that all about, I wondered. Were people parking there when they shouldn’t? Maybe teens using it as a lovers lane? Or truckers parking their rigs there?
I can just imagine some I’ll-take-care-of-this-person in the church assuring the pastor, “Don’t worry about it. We’ll stop those people from parking here.” And he erects this barrier.