I was the middle child desperately trying to be grouped with the older set of siblings and not with the “baby” set.

I tried to be found worthy of tagging along with the older kids in their adventures. However, I was not endowed with their “can do” attitude to push boundaries. Yet, neither could I plead ignorance, as could the babies. I was in the middle and simply craved the safety of staying out of trouble by doing what was right.

Our parents had sternly warned us of what to do and what not to do in their absence. We all knew the clear consequences of wrongdoing.

Still, my siblings insisted on rule-breaking.

What an annoyance I was to the thrill-seeking, boundary-testing, barrier-breaking older set! My tag-a-long presence exposed their disobedience every time, causing them to experience the results of their actions!

I never told on them or violated the unspoken oath of secrecy. Instead, I burst into tears because rules were being broken.

The scenario from my childhood was a mere shadow of the eternal consequences at stake in the adult choices I make in life.

Decisions tug me towards either the gift of eternal life that I crave or the displeasing wage of sin I cringe from. The outcome always comes bundled within the choices.