Ezekiel 33:7-9 As I reflected on this passage of scripture, I was curious about the meaning of a Watchman. After all, it’s not a word we use much today. The definition is a person who keeps watch and protects. Then I thought about the opposite of this word which might be Wanderer - to move about without a fixed course, aim, or goal. To go astray morally. And then the big question…which one was I? I grew up believing that staying out of trouble was my main goal. It would bring me peace. We are often taught to "mind our own business" or "not rock the boat." But looking closely at the concept of the watchman forces an uncomfortable realization: silence is not neutral. Sometimes, remaining quiet is a choice to let someone else fail or suffer. The hardest part of this responsibility isn't spotting the trouble—it's overcoming the friction of speaking up. It is the awkwardness of calling out someone who is a bully, telling a coworker to rework their project because there is a flaw, the hesitation of being a whistleblower when you see something unethical, or even worse, the fear of confronting a family member or close friend whose habits are destroying them. It is always easier to stay silent behind the excuse of “It’s not my place” or simply, “I’ll pray for you”. (Small disclaimer here, sometimes the last one is the best one if done in a spirit of genuineness.) It's easy to confuse keeping the peace with keeping my mouth shut. I often tell myself that staying out of other people’s business is a sign of spiritual maturity, humility, or even grace. But when I sit with the image of the watchman, I am forced to confront a more uncomfortable truth: sometimes my silence isn’t humility at all. It is fear. It is a choice to prioritize my own comfort over someone else’s spiritual or emotional wellbeing. If the Holy Spirit gives me the discernment to see danger or troubles, the wisdom to recognize a destructive path, or the truth that could stop a bad situation, then my silence is not neutral. It is a failure to love. When I stay quiet out of a desire to be liked or to avoid a messy, awkward conversation, I’m choosing my own protection, and I become cooperative in the fallout. As I read this passage, the weight of this scripture sent me into an almost panicked state. I realize that I am a flawed person, and I count my sins among the biggest. The idea of speaking truth into someone else’s life feels heavy, almost arrogant. But as I thought deeper about the watchman's duties, I recognized an incredible sense of spiritual deliverance! The wisdom of the watchman sets a boundary. My job is to meet people where they are, to love them enough to gently speak the truth, to point out the crack in the foundation, or to sound the alarm. God is not asking me to be the Savior. He is not holding me responsible for fixing, changing, or curing anyone. I cannot force anyone to listen, and I cannot walk their path for them. That is God's job, and the work of the person walking that path. Once that message is delivered openly and honestly, I have completed my job, just as the watchman completes his job. My only task is to be a conduit for truth—to speak it clearly, deliver it with genuine love, and then step back. I can release the outcome to God. And for me, that’s freedom! Moving forward, I pray that I can cultivate the characteristics of a Watchman. I think the goal for me is to find the balance between courage and detachment—cultivating discernment and bravery to speak when it matters most, and the faith to, as the saying goes, "Let go and let God". Are you a Watchman or a Wanderer? PRAYER Lord Jesus, Thank you for your words in scripture that are the beautiful gems and treasures I can store in the recesses of my heart. I give you praise all day, every day. I come to you now asking for the courage to see clearly and the strength to speak honestly. Help me to be a faithful watchman in my own life, in my home and workplace, and within my relationships. Remove the fear of uncomfortable conversations or awkward confrontations. When I see something wrong, unsafe, or destructive, grant me the wisdom to know when to speak and the right words to say. Let my voice be guided by gentle truth and driven by genuine care, never by judgment or pride. Guard me from the temptation of silent complicity. Remind me that choosing comfort over accountability helps no one, and that my silence can carry its own weight of responsibility. Finally, please provide me with peace of mind regarding the things I cannot control. Help me remember that I am only responsible for sharing the truth and setting boundaries—not for pushing others to change…. that is your job. Let me release the burden of their choices into your hands, knowing I have done my part so that I may one day hear you say, “Well done my good and faithful servant!” I pray all these things in your precious name, Jesus. Amen |