Last week, I was driving up Route 625 toward the church when I noticed a small object up ahead in the middle of my lane. It was a squirrel.

“Where on earth did he come from?” I wondered out loud. Cornfields flanked both sides of the road, and there wasn’t a tree in sight for at least 100 yards. But sure enough, there he was—frozen like a deer in the headlights—a little gray squirrel.

I slowed down as I approached but didn’t stop. Instead, the squirrel started zigzagging frantically back and forth in front of me. I held my breath, bracing for the dreaded thump. Miraculously, he somehow threaded the needle and darted safely between my tires, scampering across the road to safety.

“Better smarten up, little buddy,” I thought as I drove on.

Fast forward to this past Sunday morning. I’m heading to church early, and wouldn’t you know it? In almost the exact same spot, there’s a squirrel—this time sitting right on the double yellow line. Now, I can’t say for sure if it was the same squirrel, but part of me thinks it was.

As I got closer, the squirrel started his familiar routine—zigzagging along the yellow line like an Olympic skier doing a slalom. I eased over to the right, giving him plenty of space. As I passed, I glanced in my rearview mirror, and there he was, still parked in the center of the road.

Suddenly, a car zoomed past me in the opposite direction. “Oh no,” I thought as it approached the squirrel. Sure enough, he panicked and began darting back and forth again across the yellow line. This driver, however, didn’t slow down, tap the brakes, or even veer. He just barreled through. But somehow, incredibly, the squirrel dodged the tires by mere inches.

At that point, I figured I should probably stop watching the drama in my rearview mirror and focus on the road ahead—otherwise, I might be the one in an accident. As I rounded a bend, I lost sight of the squirrel, still playing his dangerous game with yet another car headed north-bound.

Later, on my drive home, I checked for roadkill. To my amazement, there was no sign of the little guy. Somehow, the squirrel had miraculously survived his triple brush with death.

Crazy squirrel.

In a few weeks, we’ll begin a series on the Old Testament prophet Elijah. Elijah ministered during a time when Israel’s history when the nation was divided—not just politically but spiritually. One king would lead the people into evil, while the next would try to restore some semblance of righteousness. The people were like a weathervane, turning whichever way the wind of leadership blew. They were like that squirrel on the road—unsure, constantly running back and forth, unable to make up their minds.

Elijah confronted their spiritual indecision during a dramatic showdown on Mount Carmel. The people of Israel were caught in a dangerous game, much like the squirrel zigzagging between cars, vacillating between serving the Lord and chasing after the pagan deities of the surrounding nations.

At that critical moment, Elijah stood and issued a challenge:

“Elijah went before the people and said, ‘How long will you waver between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow him; but if Baal is God, follow him.’ But the people said nothing.” (1 Kings 18:21)

Do you know what Elijah was really saying?

Make up your mind.

The people were caught in a spiritual tug-of-war. On one side was the one true God—Yahweh—and on the other were the many Baals, the false gods they had allowed into their lives. And they couldn’t—or wouldn’t—make a clear decision.

That ancient struggle isn’t far removed from our own. In the modern age there are many false gods that divide our attention and vie for our loyalty.

Like the squirrel running back and forth, we find ourselves darting between choices- God / the world, God / the world, not fully committing to one path. We feel the pull of the world, but we also hear the call of God. The problem is, indecision in the spiritual realm is dangerous—it’s like trying to stand on both sides of the road at once.

But Scripture calls us to something radically different. God doesn’t want divided hearts; He wants whole hearts. Jesus said the greatest commandment in the Bible is:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.” (Deuteronomy 6:5)

That’s a challenge we need to hear today. God desires our full devotion, not our half-hearted attention. The squirrel’s indecisiveness may have worked out for him by some stroke of luck, but in our spiritual lives, double mindedness leads to a diluted faith of instability, confusion and ultimately indifference. We can’t keep darting between God and the world and escape unscathed.

In the end, we must decide whom we will serve. As Elijah said, “If the Lord is God, follow Him.”

Make up your mind. Don’t be a squirrel. Choose today to live wholeheartedly for God.