“But He knows the way that I take; When He has tested me, I shall come forth as gold. My foot has held fast to His steps; I have kept His way and not turned aside.”-Job 23:10-11
Tonight as I sat in the men’s Bible study group, I turned our book to a page with a scene of 
cowboys driving cattle and the picture of a lareat in the top right-hand corner of the page. As I looked at the coiled rope, my mind drifted back to my farm. Once again, I could feel the rough strands of the formed rope, the heat from the threads as they slid through the grasp of my leather gloves as the 500 lb. bull began to run away from me. He escaped our pasture and was happily grazing in the neighbors green grass when I found him. In the past, he had little inclination to flee me and in fact seemed quite docile for an Angus. However, when the loop of the lasso landed perfectly around his neck, he suddenly turned into a raging beast hell bent on leaving me as far behind as quickly as possible. . The thought of him taking off and the fact that I wasn’t riding a horse or anything of greater mass hadn’t developed in my preparations to restrain him, sadly enough. In other words, “What was I thinking?”
As much as I tried to cinch the rope, there was no stopping the force on the other end of the rope. Equations of Physics flashed through my brain, F=ma, momentum of an opposite and greater force cannot be restrained by a lesser force and so on
In other words, I realized I was literally nearing the end of my rope.
Many people talk about their lives flashing before their eyes in the last seconds of a life threatening situation; mine only wanted to resolve how to not lose the calf on the other end of my tether. “For once he was free, there might not be any getting him back,” I thought to myself. As I fought for control of the vanishing line, my eyes scanned for anything of size, a tree, a stump, a rock, anything that might provide me something to leverage against the tempest in flight; nothing other than a sapling or two were nearby. The tree line was well beyond my reach. Fortunately, I had driven the old 77 Chevy to the top of the pasture. Digging the heels of my boots in as the rope continued to slip, I strained to work my body and bull toward the pickup.
Time was running out.
In life, we often find that we continue on with the same old day-after-day routines. Fearful of stepping out of our comfort zones, strapped by a mortgage, a car payment and many other bills that are a result of raising a family, we feel as if life is a raging bull at the end of our rope, pulling us helplessly along. Courage to begin digging in your heels against the beast is the first step. However, to fully halt the runaway train, you have to finally say, “No more,” and put an end to the madness. You have to tie it off and end the struggle.
To leave it all behind is one of the most difficult decisions in life I have ever had to make. I knew that if I had continued, the end would not have been pretty. So frequently was I waking up on the wrong side of the road driving home from working the night shift that I began to fear for others more than for myself. So I prayed the prayer that I knew God would answer, but couldn’t believe it would have been answered in the manner in which it was.
So we stepped out into our leap of faith.
Are there days I wonder if it was the right thing to do to my family? Yes.
Are there days I wonder if I can make it? Yes.
Are there days I have self-doubt? Yes.
Yet through it all, I try to remember the verse from Job, “My foot has held fast to His steps; I have kept His way and not turned aside.”
How far can we go? Are we at the end of our rope? How much time do we have left?
A beast on the other end of my rope had given me the premonition of sage advice I seek tonight. Therein I realized, time was running out and there would only be so much of it left before it would be too late to change, too late to end the madness, too late to save the ones I loved.
With only inches to go before the lariat ran out, I found the back bumper of my old truck and wrapped enough of it around the metal to halt the rampage. From the other end of the rope came a violent jolt. The truck lurched backward but stopped.
We both stood panting.
I had barely made it, just barely.
The brief pause allowed me a sparse few more inches, enough to make one more wrap of the rope around the thick metal. Sweat ran into my eyes stinging and blurring my vision.
The world around us seems to continue to spiral out of control. So many are lost in sin, lost in their own realities of an imaginary world to the point they cannot seem to stop. We are running out of time to reach them. Yes, we are nearing the end of our rope. We must seek that concrete base to which we can tie off and hold fast, we must help them and those around us find that steel bumper of the old Chevy or that rock of faith; Jesus Christ.
Time is running out. What are you waiting for?
