When Good Men Drift | Harrison Conley

A few weeks ago, I was surfing with my son, Sawyer, and we were out in the water having a great time, laughing, talking, just enjoying the sunshine, and everything felt normal until after a little while, I looked up, looked back toward the beach, and And I realized we were not where we had started.

Not even close.

Without us realizing it, the current had taken us about a quarter of a mile, half a mile down the beach.

And I was a little frustrated because I realized now we had a very long walk back to the car.

And here's what struck me.

The whole time we were out in the water, I never once felt us drifting.

Drifting.

There wasn't some giant wave that kind of swept us away.

There wasn't a dramatic moment where I thought, oh, we're in trouble here.

No, it happened so gradually that if I hadn't looked up, I would have never even known that we had

drifted.

And here's the thing about a current.

Here's the thing about a riptide.

Most of its power happens beneath the surface.

You usually don't see it.

You don't hear it.

There isn't usually a giant wave crashing over your head.

It's this invisible current quietly pulling you further and further away.

And because the danger is beneath the surface, you often don't realize what's happening until you look up and then discover that you are somewhere you never thought you would be.

You're nowhere near where you started.

And church, I think that's exactly how spiritual drift happens as well.

Most spiritual drift, it happens beneath the surface.

before anything ever manifests outwardly, before anybody else sees it, something has already begun to shift in the heart, right? Our affections change, our motives change, priorities begin to shift.

Our dependence upon God slowly gives way to dependence upon ourselves.

And again, maybe nobody notices it at first, perhaps even most of the time, we don't even notice it ourselves.