There’s something about a discount shelf in a store or grocery aisle that activates a magnetic pull on me. I quickly peruse the items and occasionally find a bargain. Recently I found a mega container of dishwashing liquid at an unheard-of price. The name wasn’t familiar, but I felt it might offer the latest breakthrough in cleansing power. Sold! The super-duper bargain went home with me.

When my brand name bottle ran out, I reached under the sink and hoisted my mega-size bottle with both hands. One quick shot of the liquid in the hot water turned it pale green, but only three — maybe five bubbles appeared. I shot another squirt, then another and another. The water was greener, but the cleansing power was invisible. With no billowing suds to cover the dirty dishes, their food-stained faces reminded me that I had been duped! I shook my head in disgust and said out loud, “I’ll know next time!”

It wasn’t the first time I had used the universal comment as a response to being duped. I’ve said it after stumbling away from an all-night lock-in with teenagers. I’ve said it in defiance when an elected official that I supported reneged on his campaign promises.

I’ve said it after riding out a threatening storm when I should have sought better shelter. It cried from my lips when I wore new shoes for an all-day outing. “I’ll know next time” has been my pledge after agreeing to listen to a telemarketer sales pitch. I’ve said it when the offer was too good to be true — when I wore a silk top to an outdoor 100-degree summer event — as I dug hot pink play dough out of the den carpet — when I went to the blackberry patch without my insect repellent — when I fertilized Bermuda grass — when I trusted sunscreen to last for six hours and when I ignored the strange sound in my washing machine.

Knowing there will be a next time brings me consolation in all those experiences that I know I’ll not repeat. However, that “next time” decision isn’t always an option. Death doesn’t and never will offer a “next time.” It closes all options and removes the second chance. Nowhere in God’s Word do I find Him suggesting unlimited time for eternal decisions. He’s a patient, loving, compassionate Savior inviting all to respond to the Holy Spirit’s prompting — knowing that when we face Him as Judge it will be for the “last time.”

Camille Anding, The Daily Leader,  P. O. Box 551, Brookhaven, MS 39602.