Batteries

I gently placed my Bible on the side table and drew a purposeful breath. After an exhale and a short pause, I leaned forward and grasped the wooden lever to the side of my chair, pulling up as I leaned back, lifting my feet until my body was fully reclined. Satisfied with my spiritual growth for the morning, I reached for the remote mere inches from the book. I brought it closer as to find the large red button at the top, then pointed the remote at the screen and pressed the button.

Nothing happened.

I released a guttural growl and proceeded to the obvious method of resuscitating any electronic device that malfunctions. I slung the gadget several times into the palm of my hand, and then tried again. Finally, a blaring voice reached my ears and the screen sprang to life to images of starving children in the slums of India.

Who left this thing on the Christian channel? I thought.

I pressed the channel up button. Nothing happened. For some reason I tried several others before digressing to my previous tactic. Then the screen turned bright blue as the remote gave a last dying gasp of life.

I suddenly felt guilty for trying to ignore the starving children commercial, and for a moment I wished I could turn it back. I probably should send money… and skip my next meal.

Finally, I flipped the remote over and removed the battery cover. There sat the culprits: Two double As with unfamiliar markings indicating their probable age.

I reluctantly arose from my comfortable seating arrangement and replaced the batteries with two new ones from the desk drawer. I then returned to test the new life of my remote.

Perhaps I’m not too different from my remote. I may know the correct buttons to press, but in the end my effectiveness and ability to truly please my master hinge on the condition of the source of my actions—the motives of my heart. I can continue to attempt all the right combinations, but it’s purely self-serving without a change of batteries.