From the moment I read the first lines of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice I just knew there was a good chance that I was actually meant to be British. I’m pretty sure that somewhere along the line things got off track because I ended up being born in Ohio instead. In my mind, though, I should have been strolling along cobblestone streets, having tea with Mr. Darcy, or feverishly scribbling down my every thought onto the pages of a leather-bound journal by candlelight. You can imagine my absolute delight, then, when my husband and I had the opportunity to travel to the United Kingdom in the fall of 2002. It was like the mother ship was calling me home. If the mother ship served cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off.
I’m not quite sure what I expected when we landed at Heathrow Airport on that cold and wet October day. It’s fair to say that in the back of my mind, I might have envisioned being picked up by a horse-drawn carriage and whisked away to a manor house in the countryside. Instead, upon our arrival in London, we were quickly swallowed up by the masses heading toward the underground rail system. Not only were we completely overwhelmed as we attempted to determine exactly which train we were supposed to board, but we were also aware that our extremely sleep-deprived state could cause us to end up heading in the absolute wrong direction. Miraculously, we managed to locate the right line on the map and after making our way toward our train, we waited for it to arrive. Our modern-day chariot came roaring into the station and somehow, like salmon swimming upstream, we were able to board, but not before I heard a booming voice overhead issue a warning: “MIND THE GAP!” Honestly, I didn’t think much about it at the time, because I was solely focused on not getting separated from my husband or my luggage while being jostled this way and that. But from that point on, every time we boarded a train we heard the same announcement. Over and over and over we were told to mind the gap. This little space between the platform and the doors of the train was obviously pretty important. It kind of made us confused. I mean, it was such a small gap. My husband and I hadn’t even noticed it when we boarded that first train. Did people really need to be reminded to lift their feet to the appropriate height so as to not trip as they transitioned from platform to train? Apparently so!
When we don’t tend to all areas of our faith, we leave ourselves wide open for gaps to develop. It’s in the gaps where we find we are the most vulnerable to sin and temptation.
We joked about minding the gap throughout our travels across England and Scotland. And then, as we went to board the train in Edinburgh to head back to London, it happened. My suitcase got stuck as I was rolling it off the platform. The wheels were wedged into that sliver of space known to everyone as the gap. Obviously I hadn’t fully appreciated the warnings I’d been given. I tugged my suitcase free and made it onto the train just as the doors were closing. It struck me that the gap hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal until it was, in fact, a big deal. Until the wheels of my suitcase were stuck in that gap, I was happy not to give it a second thought. I had become careless about minding the gap and I paid the price.
I’ve always thought of myself as someone who is fairly self-aware. But just like that space between the train and the station platform, I find there are times when I’m not mindful of the gaps in my faith. It’s easy to think I can decide which areas are worthy of my focus and which aren’t. Second Peter 1:5–8 says,
For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Those gaps at the train station seemed so harmless and tame but they held hidden dangers. I’m thinking that stuck suitcase wheels were a minor inconvenience compared to getting the wheels of a stroller stuck while a child is strapped into the seat. When we don’t tend to all areas of our faith, we leave ourselves wide open for gaps to develop. It’s in the gaps where we find we are the most vulnerable to sin and temptation. I heard those warnings being shouted at me over the loudspeaker at the train station but after awhile they just became background noise. Making the effort to add to our faith means that we are minding the gaps, aware of the areas that we tend to ignore. Maybe there is sin we’ve just become so comfortable with that we don’t even recognize it anymore. Or maybe we have simply grown lazy in our pursuit of a deeper relationship with Christ. We’ve forgotten what it felt like when we experienced those first glorious moments of salvation, when the muck and the mire of our sin was washed away by the cleansing waters of forgiveness and grace.
Among the lesser-known works of Jane Austen is this prayer: “Thou art everywhere present, from Thee no secret can be hid. May the knowledge of this, teach us to fix our thoughts on Thee, with reverence and devotion that we pray not in vain.” Leave it to Jane to know the solution to avoiding complacency. When we fix our thoughts on Him and humbly ask that He reveal the gaps in our faith, we are able to see them for what they really are. Those gaps are opportunities. They provide us with the chance to grow and strengthen our relationship with our Savior. And a chance for adding deeper layers to our faith, if only we will mind the gaps.