That twisty little road kept all my attention. It was crawling with tourists who, unlike my hillbilly husband, did not know how to drive in the mountains. The road itself didn't help. We tried to hug the white line on the outside edge, but occasionally it disappeared, having crumbled into a foot or more deep hole, with no guard rail in sight. Still, we had to stay as close as possible because every third or fourth car coming around the bend toward us had strayed over the center line. A time or two we were nearly side-swiped, our rearview mirrors coming within inches of high-fiving one another. Those fifteen miles were anything but relaxing and enjoyable.
Yet I am sure that if there had been an accident, every one of those folks would have sworn in court that they had not even touched that double yellow line, much less crossed it, and would have really believed they were telling the truth.
Aren't we the same? We see those double yellow lines in our lives—the Thou shalt nots that God has designed for our good--and do our best to stay away from them. But curves in the road of life have a way of swinging us around, sometimes further than we ever intended. Or the distracting scenery of concern and worry or just simple busyness makes us careless and we drift into that oncoming traffic without ever realizing it until it's too late and the damage has been done, damage that can wreck your life far worse than a shattered mirror or scraped fender. We may think we would never do such a thing—whatever that thing may be—but the devil can keep us in such a whirl with the circumstances of life that we never notice what we've done and will even deny it to the last breath.
Be careful today as you wind your way over the hills and valleys and around the perilous curves of life. Don't stray over the double yellow line. Don't even get close to it.
How can a young man keep his way pure? By guarding it according to your word. With my whole heart I seek you; let me not wander from your commandments! (Ps 119:9-10)