The sun was shining as I pulled into a parking lot at Presque Isle. When I opened my IPad to check the weather, a dense fog alert appeared. I smiled. The warning was a bit late for me.

The dense fog had surprised me about an hour earlier. I slowed down and turned on my lights. Braver (or more foolish) drivers, unconcerned by limited visibility, whizzed around me. When I pulled into a familiar rest stop, I became so disoriented after my stop that I crept back to the Interstate, breathing a sigh of relief when I was on the road again.

 I decided not to stop at the Walmart along Route 79 as I’d planned. I had no idea which exit to use because the store was usually visible from the Interstate. After my experience at the rest stop, I was concerned that if I did manage to find the store, I’d never find my way back to the road.

 In this case, the warning coming too late didn’t affect the outcome of my trip, except to delay my arrival. However, this isn’t always the case. A warning for an earthquake, tsunami, or nuclear attack that comes too late can have catastrophic consequences―as can denialist propaganda by companies minimizing or negating the dangers of the products they produce. (Even though it was known as early as the 1940’s and 1950’s that smoking cigarettes caused lung cancer, many people―even doctors―didn’t believe it because of denialist propaganda.)

Sometimes the issue isn’t that the warning is too late─the issue is the way we respond to the warning. After I arrived in Erie the day of the heavy fog, I talked to a woman about the redwing blackbirds I was observing through my binoculars. She told me she’d heard those birds can become aggressive when nesting. I was raised in the country and had never experienced an aggressive redwing blackbird, so I discounted her warning.

The next day I saw a sign along the bike path: “Redwing blackbirds become aggressive when nesting. They are nesting in this area.” I was surprised but told myself that as long as I remained on the path I would be safe. I didn’t even worry when a blackbird hovered over the path above my head, scolding loudly. Then in a flash, he dive bombed my hair as I screamed and ran!

After I calmed down, I began warning the people approaching the area where I’d been attacked. I could tell by their response whether they’d ever been attacked by blackbirds. Those who hadn’t were just as unconcerned as I had been. Those who had appreciated the warning and took it seriously.

Later, when I walked back the way I’d come, I couldn’t remember exactly where I’d encountered the vicious blackbird. I was thankful when a lady said, “Watch out for those redwing blackbirds! They just got me again!” I left the path and walked as close to the road as I could. I did NOT want to be attacked again. My response to the warning changed because I knew the danger was real.

Thankfully, God’s warnings never come too late. However, the way we respond to His warnings can mean the difference between spiritual or even physical death. Deuteronomy 30:19 says: This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live. Next week I want to talk more about the warnings God gives and ways we respond.

Father, warnings are only beneficial when we believe there is danger. Help us not to change the meaning of your warnings or buy into denialist propaganda of our culture that would cause us to negate them. Amen.