Words are sobering when they reflect a chink in the ol' armor of our character. A CSI rerun came on, and I watched. It was interesting as most of the episodes are. At the very end of the show the last line was delivered before the credits began to roll. The words were pretty sobering, "Everyone has a price." In the case of CSI, the price was crime. But even if we move into other arenas of life, the saying still holds true.
I hate to think that I have a price. I have had some hard testing, but the thought still lingers—the price just hasn't been raised high enough. I am old enough to know where the chinks in my armor are. If I wonder why the chink is there in the first place, I think that I thwarted some arrow, that an attempt at buying me off has failed. Maybe it just means that on that occasion the price was just not raised high enough. A thought like that raises my eyebrows. I hope the One who Made me does not allow the death blow. Chinks only, please. Or that the enemy doesn't secretly know what my price is.
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