With an extended forefinger as a barrel and a retractable, hitch-hiking thumb as a hammer, we were well-armed to take on the bad guys in our neighborhood. Without any visible or audible confirmation that the gun had discharged, the firing of our weapon was often accompanied by shouts like: “Bang! Bang! You’re dead!” “You’re dead!” was not the sound of the gun; it was our way of letting the other person know that they had been hit and should fall to the ground. Frequently, there was an even louder rebuttal: “You missed me!” Who could argue? The intended target was still standing!

Our imaginative world of pretend warfare advanced with the acquisition of a few rubber bands. Placed delicately across the forefinger and carefully stretched over the thumb, these projectiles could be launched from across the room. They seldom hit their intended target, except at point-blank range. We tried to improve the speed and accuracy of our shots by using the other hand to stretch the rubber band way back so as to release it with greater speed, resulting in greater distance. This method was not without risk. Who has not suffered the self-inflicted sting of a rubber band released in the wrong direction? Still, the rubber band, like other relics of my past, found its place in the stowed away memories of my mind.

For years, I have had a handful of rubber bands in the far-left corner of the middle drawer in my desk. Useful for organizational purposes, these rubber bands also serve as a connection to my past. These connections have been passed along to my sons and grandsons. But, the rubber bands, which for so long have served me well, have become useless—they are stretched out, dried up, and brittle. I plan on getting some fresh, new rubber bands. But, before I do, there is a spiritual lesson to pass along by way of self-examination (2 Cor. 13:5).

Like a rubber band that has lost its stretch, have I ceased to be useful in the Master’s service? Disuse is a serious problem so far as stewardship is concerned. It is required of stewards that one be found faithful or trustworthy (1 Cor. 4:2). It was not the one who buried his talent in the sand, but the ones who used their talents for the master, who were commended and rewarded as “good and faithful slaves” (Mt. 25:14-30). Unlike the church at Ephesus which had grown weary and had left their first love (Rev. 2:3-4), we must be “steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord…” (1 Cor. 15:58). Living on the edge—stretched out, moving forward, outside our comfort zone—deeper and deeper into the will of God. This is how Christians must live. This is the air we breathe. After all, what is faith for, if it does not stretch us in the direction of service to God and compassion for the needs of others?