Our Daily Bread Podcast | Our Daily Bread

The face was there all along, but no one knew. When Sir Joshua Reynolds painted The Death of Cardinal Beaufort in 1789, he put a demon’s face in the darkness behind the dying man. Reynolds was accurately depicting a scene from a Shakespearean play that mentions the presence of a “busy, meddling fiend,” but some didn’t like his literalism. After Reynolds’ death in 1792, the face was painted over and forgotten. Art conservation work recently revealed it under layers of paint and varnish. The Bible tells of a spiritual reality around us that the eye can’t see, where God reigns supreme. When Elisha was surrounded by a “strong force” of enemy soldiers and chariots, his servant was frightened and asked, “What shall we do?” Elisha told him that “those who are with us are more than those who are with them,” and “prayed, ‘Open his eyes, Lord, so that he may see.’ ” Suddenly the servant “saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha” (2 Kings 6:14-17). The horses and chariots of fire indicate angelic beings there for Elisha’s protection. This is one of many places where Scripture underscores the comforting truth that in a world where danger lurks and spiritual warfare rages, God still watches over us. No matter what we face, how good it is to know that nothing “will be able to separate us” from His love (Romans 8:39).

I couldn’t wait. My husband and I had just returned from the grocery store; and as we unloaded the groceries, I frantically searched—but couldn’t find the telltale donut bag. Then I checked the receipt. No donuts. Frustrated, I cried out, “All I wanted from the store was a donut!” Fifteen minutes later, my husband handed me a bag of donuts. He’d braved the snow and snuck out to buy them. After squeezing him tightly, I sheepishly said, “I’m glad you didn’t get into an accident just to appease my craving!” I don’t usually get that worked up about a donut! But it had been an emotionally draining week, and so I sought solace in a donut—and I experienced a much deeper joy through the love and compassion of my husband. The kind of comfort we may get from satisfying our cravings is always short-lived. As the apostle Paul shared with the Corinthians, true—and lasting—comfort comes from the “God of all comfort” (2 Corinthians 1:3). Paul understood his readers’ deep struggles and needs. Like them he faced daily trials, including persecution for his faith. And because God had comforted him, he was able to comfort them (v. 4). When we’re hurting, we can turn to Jesus who abounds in compassion and comfort (v. 5). There we find solace. And when we’ve experienced His comfort, we can extend it to others.

At our school district’s championship wrestling match, children as young as eight grappled on gym mats, deploying clever holds to wrestle down their opponents and win. An ancient sport, wrestling demands a savvy combination of takedowns, escapes, pins, and other point-winning maneuvers to come out on top. One little third-grade girl—a crowd favorite—was simply faster than all her opponents, using swift moves that seemed to trick her rivals into defeat. Jacob used tricky moves to get the best of his twin brother Esau, “wrestling” Esau out of his birthright to their father’s inheritance (Genesis 25:33) and life blessing (27:27-40). But stealing the blessing kept Jacob on the run, forcing him to flee his father’s household, depend on his cunning father-in-law, and live in fear of his brother’s wrath. Later, he found himself alone, wrestling all night with a Man who was God Himself. “Let me go,” the Man told Jacob, “for it is daybreak” (32:25). But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me” (v. 26). Finally, Jacob was seeking a blessing of his own, holding tight to God even until his name was changed to reflect his changed heart. No tricky moves were needed to gain this rich blessing from God—only persistence. Jacob was learning to live in relationship with God. It’s a persistent and honest hold—a winning move God will reward.

Jason and Pierre had worked together for a decade putting siding on houses. They were good friends, but neither was talkative. As they worked, they said hardly a word. Yet they knew each other so well that this was seldom a problem. The two could rely on the mere nod of a head or glance of the eyes to communicate. Small gestures spoke volumes. Psalm 32 evokes this level of familiarity between God and the psalmist. One version renders verse 8 this way: “I will guide you with my eye” (nkjv). God isn’t looking from afar; He’s a loving Father working in partnership with His child. While the psalm begins with confession of sin (vv. 1-5), the focus is not on punishment but on loving redirection as God teaches His child the right path. The other option is to be like the horse or the mule, which “must be controlled by bit and bridle or they will not come to you” (v. 9). The picture is of willful defiance and ignorance of God’s way. As believers in Jesus, we are to develop a deep intimacy with God so we’re in tune with His gentle gestures. One way we develop this intimacy is through reading the Scriptures. This helps us “keep in step with the Spirit” (Galatians 5:25) so we’ll love what God loves. Then we can “rejoice in the Lord and be glad” (Psalm 32:11).

The elderly man was taking a long time looking at the children’s backpacks in the store. He told me, “It’s my granddaughter’s birthday. I hope she likes my gift.” At the check out, he clutched a pink backpack with a cartoon character design. He looked excited. Later in a restaurant, I saw him again with a little girl and her parents. When the child opened her gift, she said, “I don’t like this character! And I hate pink!” Her parents made her apologize, but she still complained. My heart broke for her grandpa. I was reminded of how I sometimes respond to God’s gifts. I complain because I want something different, failing to see the miracle before me—that God Himself has lovingly given something for me. The Israelites behaved similarly. God had kept His promise to them: “I will rain down bread from heaven for you” (Exodus 16:4). God’s faithful provision in the wilderness was sure: “When the dew settled on the camp at night, the manna also came down” (Numbers 11:9). But instead of being thankful, the Israelites complained about God’s expression of loving provision: “We never see anything but this manna!” (v. 6). Instead of humbly requesting other food from God, they wailed over His gift. I still remember the hurt look in the grandfather’s eyes that day. It made me think of how our heavenly Father must feel when we complain. Let’s be grateful for the gifts He’s given us.

Vietnamese collector Pham has salvaged twenty church clocks from around Europe, many of which had been replaced with electronic versions. One clock, made in Italy, dates back to 1750 and, remarkably, still keeps time accurately. Pham enjoys restoring and preserving the timepieces, saying they remind him of how precious time is and to savor each moment. In James 4, the writer encouraged his readers to recognize the preciousness of time by reminding them that their lives are like “a mist that appears for a little while” before vanishing (James 4:14). James warned against making plans to “go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money” (v. 13) without consulting God. Instead of presuming on God for the timing and success of their ventures, he reminded them that they “do not even know what will happen tomorrow” (v. 14). Designing our own successes is actually boastful and arrogant if it leaves God out of the picture. When we recognize the brevity of our lives, we’re able to hold our plans for the future more loosely and better embrace the present moment. We live and work according to God’s design and purpose, which means we can humbly entrust our future to Him and savor each day as the gift from Him it truly is—no matter what it may hold.

We live in a world where the internet forgets nothing—every photo, post, and blog entry is seemingly stored forever. One major search engine, however, introduced a privacy feature allowing users to request the removal of personal data like phone numbers, home addresses, and more. While this doesn’t erase the data from the internet entirely, it significantly reduces its visibility, giving people a sense of control over their digital footprints. This idea of “scrubbing” the past echoes the prophet’s words in Isaiah 43:18-19. God said, “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing.” These verses were spoken to Israel during their exile in Babylon—a period of deep despair and longing for restoration. God commanded His people to not fixate on their past failures or the pain of captivity but to look forward to the new work He was about to do—a new and more significant exodus—their deliverance from Babylon and return to their homeland. He wasn’t just erasing the past but “making a way” (v. 19) to a future filled with hope and purpose. Instead of dwelling on failures or regrets, let’s trust that God has “scrubbed” our past sins, regrets, and shame and—though Jesus’ sacrifice (Hebrews 10:10)—“remembers [our] sins no more” (Isaiah 43:25). God propels us toward the future He’s preparing.

On December 9, 1987, a squirrel chewed through a power line in Connecticut, and the NASDAQ’s vast financial machinery blinked, sighed, and went dark. Some of the world's largest corporations stood limp and listless. Global economies watched, sweating bullets for nearly an hour and a half. All because of one tenacious, furry rodent. Scripture tells many stories of something or someone small making a big impact. But God can turn meagerness into something mighty. John recounts how Jesus fed a hungry crowd (five thousand men, probably fifteen thousand with women and children included) when “a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish” handed over his small lunch (John 6:9). In the Old Testament we remember that a young shepherd boy named David trusted God and slayed a giant (1 Samuel 17). And Christ repeatedly insisted that the kingdom of God is something like a mustard seed, “the smallest of all seeds” (Matthew 13:32). When we ponder the many complex global crises in addition to the bewildering concerns in our own neighborhoods and families, we’re tempted to believe that our seemingly small efforts lack power. But Scripture tells us to act in obedience and trust as God helps us—assured that with Him, small things can become mighty (John 6:10-12).

In the American West in the late-1800s, the search for dinosaur bones created the Bone Wars in which two paleontologists battled one another in their pursuit of making the most historic find. One writer noted how the two “used underhanded methods to try to outdo the other in the field, resorting to bribery, theft, and the destruction of bones.” He noted how, in trying to ruin each other’s work, both destroyed their own reputations as well. Conflict and competition are inevitable in our broken world. How we choose to engage those conflicts reveals what’s in our hearts. Paul learned of conflict between two women in the church at Philippi and wrote, “I plead with Euodia and I plead with Syntyche to be of the same mind in the Lord.” He asked a fellow believer to “help these women since they have contended at my side in the cause of the gospel” (Philippians 4:2–3). When we find ourselves at odds with fellow believers in Jesus, we need the Spirit’s help. As we submit to His work in our hearts, He’ll help us demonstrate the fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22). We’ll experience healing and peace—if not for our own reputations, for the reputation of Christ and the gospel.

When writing teacher Peter Turchi sees a map, he looks for the adventure it holds. “To ask for a map,” he says, “is to say, ‘Tell me a story.’ ” I seized on that idea when preparing to teach a Sunday school class during Christmas on the “Faith of the Wise Men.” As I studied maps, I learned the Magi traveled some nine hundred miles—perhaps over several months—to find the Christ child, finally finding not a babe in a manger but a toddler living with His parents in a house. Their reaction after such a long trip? “They bowed down and worshiped him” (Matthew 2:11). Their journey invited my students and me to plan with intention to seek Christ more fully. As Scripture tells us, when the Magi finally arrived in Jerusalem, their urgent question was: “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him” (v. 2). Distance didn’t deter their worship. Nor did danger or delays. Herod’s deadly demand was ironic: “Go and search carefully for the child” (v. 8). Nobody had searched more carefully for Jesus than the Magi. We can heed the example of the wise men by seeking Christ carefully, too. Then, as we worship Him, we can expect our heavenly Father to speak to our hearts, leading us from old ways to new paths to journey with Him.

A woman was unusually nervous as she sat in the dentist’s chair. Family burdens troubled her greatly, and it was noticeable. Her dentist sensed her anxiety and asked her about it. Her story led him to ask, “Can I pray for you?” When the dental hygienist came into the room, she also prayed for the woman. Two prayers and one completed dentist’s visit later, the woman left the office knowing that she’d truly been cared for. Praying for others is one of the best ways for us to show that we care because it calls on the greatest resource we know—our heavenly Father—to be actively involved in the lives of others. In 1 Samuel 12, Samuel was faced with the concerns of a very nervous group of people (v. 19). The Israelites had erroneously asked for a king, and they were afraid of how it was going to go for themselves. The prophet told them to “not be afraid” (v. 20) and assured them of God’s goodness as seen in these words, “Far be it from me from me that I should sin against the Lord by failing to pray for you” (v. 23). We also have the privilege and calling to pray for others. Silently sometimes and out loud at other times, we honor God when we petition Him for assistance on behalf of others in need.

For a parent, the death of a child is devastating. But to lose two of your children? Unimaginable! Yet that’s the experience of Australian musician, writer, and actor Nick Cave. In 2015, his 15-year-old son fell from a cliff and died. A few years later, Cave’s oldest child also died. In the grip of such overwhelming grief, how did Cave and his wife keep going? How would you? Cave attempted to find comfort in the world around him. “It’s the audacity of the world to continue to be beautiful . . . in times of deep suffering. That’s how I saw the world,” he said. “It was just carrying on, being systemically gorgeous.” Jesus knew the Source of such beauty, and He saw it for what it truly is: the very nature of His heavenly Father. His oft-quoted words in Luke 12—“consider the lilies” (v. 27 esv)—don’t dismiss the reality of suffering in our lives. In fact, they honor our great tragedies by offering an antidote to such harsh realities. Stop and consider the lilies, or the ravens (v. 24), or the sunrise. Christ taught us, “If that is how God clothes the grass of the field . . . how much more will he clothe you!” (v. 28). In the face of grief and loss, the world’s perspective falls short. Jesus encourages us to consider our Creator God who holds His audacious creation together and cares for us deeply.

A young patient committed suicide because he couldn’t afford the bus fare to the hospital for mental health treatment. Distressed, Dr. Chibanda tested ways to make treatment more accessible. Friendship Bench was born, a program where therapists sit on discreetly placed benches, ready to counsel people with needs. And who did he train as therapists? Grandmothers! In an interview, Dr. Chibanda shared, “[Grandmothers] are rooted in their communities . . . they have an amazing ability to . . . make people feel respected and understood.” In Nehemiah 3, we read of another project that involved unconventional groups of people. They understood that the city’s wall had to be rebuilt so they’d “no longer be in disgrace” (2:17). As Jerusalem lay in ruins, the surrounding nations mocked its defeat. And besides professional craftsmen like Uzziel, who was a goldsmith (3:8), others who may have had other talents—like Shallum, a district ruler—chipped in too with the help of his daughters (v. 12). Just as Dr. Chibanda saw the influence and compassion of grandmothers to make a difference in mental healthcare in Zimbabwe, may God open our eyes to see the strengths of each person. God has gifted each of us with unique experiences, resources, and talents (Romans 12:6). Let’s allow God to use us in building up the church and serving our community.

A doctor decided to retire after treating cancer patients for nearly thirty years. While working with a billing company to resolve his clinic’s finances, he opted to forgive $650,000 of debt people still owed him. In an interview about this act of generosity, the doctor said, “I’ve always been rather uncomfortable with sick patients not only having to worry about their own health, [but also] their families, and their jobs, [and] money. That’s always tugged at me.” Even if we’ve never been deep in financial debt, all of us have experienced something similar in a spiritual sense. The Bible likens sin to “debts” (Matthew 6:12). It also says there’s no way for us to repay what we owe God. We can’t donate money to charity, serve others, or work out a deal with Him to cover what we owe. Jesus is our only hope. Through His death and resurrection, Christ “canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness which stood against us and condemned us; he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross” (Colossians 2:14). Accepting Jesus’ sacrifice for the wrong things we’ve done means waking up to a new day, completely free from the burden of sin. May God’s mercy and forgiveness shine into the world as He helps us lovingly address people and circumstances in our lives.

A fan of J.R.R. Tolkien posed a question to him in a letter. He asked why the heroes of the Lord of the Rings trilogy didn’t simply fly on the giant eagles into Mordor. In a later interview, Tolkien admitted, “It would have made the quest a whole lot easier.” Yet he gave a shockingly curt answer: “Shut up.” Tolkien’s inelegant response contains a lesson for us. We might ask a similar question of the Grand Storyteller—God. We say, “You’re the all-powerful God. Why don’t You fix my problem?” Although the poets and prophets of the Bible are full of hard questions for God, He doesn’t tell us to shut up. Yet when we humans are confronted with His presence, we tend to grow silent. Job, who suffered tremendously, had big questions. His children dead, his wealth gone, his health ruined, he lamented, “I cry out to you, God, but you do not answer” (Job 30:20). Eventually, God replied, but in a surprising way. He said, “I will question you, and you shall answer me” (38:3). Job had no answer, and concluded, “I spoke of things I did not understand” (42:3). If Tolkien’s eagles had flown Frodo and Sam into the evil heart of Mordor, there would have been no quest, no story, no character development. God is writing a story, and He’s developing our character through it—yours and mine. We’re on a quest in the greatest fellowship of them all.

When we think about New Year’s resolutions, what probably comes to mind is a list of lofty ambitions we rarely achieve (80 percent of New Year’s resolutions are already abandoned by mid-February). Author Amy Wilson suggests a better idea might be to reject entirely “the idea that we have to fix ourselves before our lives can get better.” Wilson suggests that, instead of adding commitments, we see the new year as an opportunity to do less, to finally “start saying no” to some of the “oversized and ongoing commitments that take our time and energy without giving us much in return.” In a world of constant pressure to do and be more, it can be easy to miss the radically different rhythm of life Jesus invited His disciples into—one of abiding in Him. In John 15, Jesus described Himself as “the true vine” (v. 1) and His disciples as the branches (v. 5). Vine branches don’t grow through working harder but through the nourishment received from the vine. So too the growth we long for can only be experienced when we let go of self-reliance in exchange for resting in and finding nourishment in Christ, for “apart from [Him] you can do nothing” (v. 5). Through Jesus, we have hope for a life of less anxiety. Less striving. And more resting in God’s love and letting it flow to those around us (vv. 12, 17).

During our church outreach in a nursing home, an elderly resident told me of how his daughter had driven him there years before and simply left him on the sidewalk. In his wheelchair, Ed couldn’t get up to run after her. She’d returned to the car without looking back and driven away. “We’re going to a nice hotel,” she’d said earlier. That day was the last time he saw her. This clear case of abuse, vastly different from the many loving family experiences of eldercare, traumatized Ed. He still has nightmares about that day. Centuries ago, a young man also suffered trauma (Genesis 37:12-36). Joseph’s brothers threw him into a cistern and sold him to traders going to Egypt. But “the Lord was with Joseph” (39:2). In an unfamiliar land, as he courageously did what was right in God’s eyes, both in his master’s house (vv. 7-10) and in prison, Joseph realized that God “showed him his faithful love” (v. 21 nlt). Despite the trauma of his past, Joseph was able to succeed in whatever he did because God helped him (v. 23). Eventually, he became second-in-command to Pharaoh and raised a family of his own (41:41-52). Later, he even reconciled with his brothers (45:12-15). People may hurt us, but God never will. Although He may help us heal in ways different from what He did for Joseph, He promises us His same faithful love. Let’s follow His leading as we trust Him to heal our hearts.

Scientists studied the resilience of sixteen societies worldwide, including the Yukon and Australian Outback. They analyzed thousands of years of archaeological records, tracing the impact of famines, wars, and climate. One factor stood out—the frequency of downturns. One would think that they would weaken societies, but the researchers found the opposite to be true. Instead, they found that societies that faced frequent hardships developed resilience, bouncing back faster from future challenges. Stress, it appears, can forge resilience. The prophet Habakkuk understood this kind of resilience. As he considered Judah's impending devastation, he painted a bleak picture: “crop fails,” “no sheep . . . no cattle,” and barren land (3:17). Amid earthly securities being stripped away, however, the prophet declared, “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior” (v. 18). His joy wasn’t tied to circumstances and earthly pleasures but anchored in God’s unchanging character and salvation. In the bleakest seasons, the prophet chose joy and became more resilient. Like Habakkuk and those resilient societies, our spiritual endurance grows through repeated adversity. When we face difficult seasons in life, let’s cling to our hope in God and remember that He’s with us—using our challenges to grow our joy and resilient faith.

Like many people who struggle with pornography, Russell was exposed to it at a young age. The desire to use it was overpowering, and it poisoned his heart. “My life [became] completely saturated by it,” he writes, “so much so that it was like a cancer that was deeply rooted into my very fiber.” By God’s grace, he was finally set free of porn’s power—along with other addictions—when he received salvation in Jesus and was transformed from the inside out. “I credit it all to Jesus Christ, . . . [He’s] the one who delivered me,” Russell says. Jeremiah delivered a message from God to Israel that one day He would “put [His] law in their minds and write it on their hearts” (31:33). Under this new covenant, fulfilled in Christ (Hebrews 8:6-13), all people could be transformed by God’s grace through faith. And now, “his Spirit . . . lives in [us]” (Romans 8:11), and God’s moral law has been written on our hearts. For Russell, and for all who believe, the Holy Spirit’s power provides what’s needed to turn from harmful behavior that displeases God and seeks to destroy us. Transformation isn’t always instantaneous or easy. But let’s remember, when we’re dealing with difficult—even addictive—sin, that God can transform our hearts (Jeremiah 31:33). He says, you “will know me” (v. 34 nlt), and we can also know His heart-changing power.

During a raging wildfire, a forest ranger saved a bear cub. At a recovery site safely away from those still fighting the inferno, he placed the rescued animal on the ground. Standing on its tiny back paws, the cub hugged the man’s calf. The ranger gently pried himself away. Mouth wide as if crying out in desperation, the little bear clambered and clawed in an attempt to remain in the refuge of his rescuer’s embrace. As the cub clung to his arm, the kind man relented and rubbed his furry friend’s head. What if we pursued our ultimate rescuer—Jesus—with the same fierce desperation and confidence as the bear cub pursued and clung to the one who saved him from death? All people God made need saving. The psalmist David confessed his need for a rescuer—God, who hears and answers prayers (Psalm 55:1-2). Admitting he faced troubles, threats, suffering, and fear (vv. 3-5), David pursued God with assurance. “As for me, I call to God and the Lord saves me,” he said (v. 16). “Evening, morning and noon I cry out in distress, and he hears my voice” (v. 17). David prayed continually. He believed God listened and trusted that He would rescue him “unharmed” (v. 18). When we face difficulties or suffering of any kind, like David, we can cry out to God. Our loving Rescuer, who pursues us, hears and saves us when we pursue Him too.

After all the joy of Christmas Day, the following day felt like a letdown. We’d stayed overnight with friends but hadn’t slept well. Then our car broke down as we were driving home. Then it started to snow. We had abandoned the car and taxied home in the snow and sleet feeling blah. We’re not the only ones who’ve felt low after Christmas Day. Whether it’s from excessive eating, the way carols suddenly disappear from the radio, or the fact that the gifts we bought last week are now on sale half price, the magic of Christmas Day can quickly dissipate! The Bible never tells us about the day after Jesus’ birth. But we can imagine that after walking to Bethlehem, scrambling for accommodation, enduring the pain of giving birth, and having shepherds drop by unannounced (Luke 2:4–18), Mary and Joseph were exhausted. Yet as Mary cradled her newborn, I can imagine her reflecting on her angelic visitation (1:30–33), Elizabeth’s blessing (vv. 42–45), and her own realization of her baby’s destiny (vv. 46–55). Mary “pondered” such things in her heart (2:19), which must’ve lightened the tiredness and physical pain of that day. We’ll all have “blah” days, perhaps even the day after Christmas. Like Mary, let’s face them by pondering the One who came into our world, forever brightening it with His presence.

“What sweeter music can we bring / Than a carol for to sing / The birth of this our heavenly king.” The lines of this 17th century poem “What Sweeter Music” were reimagined by modern-day choral composer John Rutter to become an Advent season favorite. Its gentle melody describes a long, cold season of waiting that’s thawed by the springtime feeling of Jesus’ arrival. The singers bring Him a Christmas carol; the listeners are invited to bring their hearts. Rutter’s arrangement was commissioned to correspond with a church reading on the wise men who brought Him gold, frankincense, and myrrh. These mysterious magi traveled a great distance to meet baby Jesus with the express purpose of worshiping him (Matthew 2:1-2). God gave them wisdom to keep Jesus’ location a secret from wicked King Herod. When they finally found Him, they “were overjoyed” (v. 10). They bowed down in reverence. Then “they opened their treasures” to lay precious resources at His feet (v. 11). The Christmas season shouldn’t be focused on material goods—but it’s certainly about giving and receiving gifts. God gave His Son to heal a broken world. If we’ve never given Him our hearts, today’s a wonderful day to do so. If He already reigns there, let’s offer a carol of peace and joy as we think about His arrival all those years ago in Bethlehem—and wait for His return.

Many historians believe that the first-ever radio broadcast of music and speech was heard by radio operators on US Navy and other ships in the Atlantic on Christmas Eve, 1906. Instead of the usual beeps and pulses to transmit codes, they listened to Reginald Fessenden play a violin solo of the Christmas carol, “O, Holy Night.” Fessenden closed his broadcast by echoing the angels’ praise: “Glory to God in the highest heaven!” (Luke 2:14). The listeners must have been startled by the evocative music and statement of praise over the birth of Jesus. The first people surprised by Jesus’ birth were the shepherds who’d been keeping to their usual business of watching their sheep at night. Then an angel appeared, shining with the glory of God and giving the shepherds a fright. The angel urged them not to be afraid and declared: “I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord” (vv. 10–11). The shepherds left their sheep to investigate the angel’s words and found the baby lying in a manger, just as they had been told (vv. 16, 20). The shepherds accepted this good news of great joy. May we too rejoice and share the wonders of Jesus’ birth and life.

In 1872, President Ulysses S. Grant was stopped for recklessly driving his carriage through Washington D.C. One published account says that the officer, an African American named William West, warned Grant, “Your fast driving, sir . . . is endangering the lives of the people who have to cross the street.” Grant apologized but the next night was racing carriages again. West stopped Grant’s horses. “I am very sorry, Mr. President, to have to do it, for you are the chief of the nation and I am nothing but a policeman, but duty is duty.” West arrested the president. I admire this brave man for doing his duty. So did Grant. He praised West and made sure he kept his job. God also was pleased, for He hates the injustice of favoritism. He says, “Believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ must not show favoritism” (James 2:1). That includes not giving special favors to the rich and powerful, leaving only leftovers for the poor (vv. 2-4). Instead, we’re called to love our neighbor as ourselves. If we play favorites, serving our platinum club neighbors rather than the less privileged, we “sin and are convicted by the law as lawbreakers” (v. 9). God didn’t play favorites with us. He loved us when we had nothing to offer, when we were “without hope and without God in the world” (Ephesians 2:12). With His help, we can love all people equally.

When my friend Maritza took a job that required traveling to many different cities by herself, she often felt lonely. But over dinner one night, she leaned in and told me, “Jen, I prayed and asked God to send me His people.” She went on to say it wasn’t long before she’d begun to meet other believers in Jesus on a regular basis. Once, she met three in one day! When we encounter others who have faith in Jesus, we share a spiritual connection. In a hard-to-explain way, this lights a spark within us. We have the most important thing in common because we believe what the Bible says about Christ and how it’s possible to have a relationship with God through Him (Romans 10:9). Most importantly, the Spirit of God lives in each believer, knitting us together so powerfully that the Bible compares us to the interconnected parts of the human body. 1 Corinthians 12:13 says, “We were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body”—the body of Christ. God often works in our lives through others who love Him, whether they’re near or far, known, or new acquaintances. In our loneliest times, we can ask Him to send His people—even as we offer ourselves to be used by Him to encourage others.

The man was busy harvesting onions when we prayerfully approached him during the home visits we were conducting on our mission trip in Ecuador. In broken Spanish, I told him my friends and I’d like to briefly speak to him about the Bible. He paused to listen as we shared our testimonies with him. One of my teammates took out his Bible and started reading Scripture aloud (in English). What a sacred moment it was to hear Scripture being read on the side of the Andes mountains and to see the man reading along in Spanish with the booklet we had given him! We talked with him and his family who’d been working off in the distance, prayed for them, and continued to the next house. As we walked along the mountainside reading Scripture and talking to people about Christ, I thought of Jesus and His disciples walking along the hills and valleys of Israel during His earthly ministry. Isaiah 52:7 says, “How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation.” The prophet was referring to the time when God’s people would return to their homeland after years in exile, but it still applies to us today whenever we share the Good News of Jesus with others. Our opportunities may not be in the spectacular Andes, but wherever God has placed us, the Holy Spirit can help us share the message of salvation with those He puts in our path.

Henry David Thoreau described a city as a place where many people are “lonesome together.” Those words have the ring of truth. In my youth, songs like “Mr. Lonely,” “Only the Lonely,” and “Eleanor Rigby” focused on isolation and loneliness. In recent years the pandemic was one of the most isolating seasons the world has known. And social media can feed that loneliness, giving us connection without relationship. Perhaps loneliness is the new pandemic. As Matthew shared the story of the birth of Jesus (1:18-25), he told us, “All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet [Isaiah]: ‘The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’ (which means ‘God with us’” (vv. 22-23). Ponder that for a moment. God with us! As believers in Jesus, we’re never alone. We’ve been born again into the family of Christ, a family that spans the globe and the ages. The apostle Paul said, “You are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household” (Ephesians 2:19). We’re loved by the ever-present God, who said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5). Whatever you’re facing today, your heavenly Father is present with you. Allow Him to help you as you step into life’s uncertainties and challenges. He’s with you.

My neighbor Sam returned home one night without his car. “It was stolen,” he told his wife; then added: “I’m going to sleep, I’ll sort it out tomorrow.” His wife was flabbergasted. She couldn’t understand how Sam could be so calm, but he explained: “What else can I do? Panicking won’t make any difference.” My ever-sensible neighbor could see there was no point worrying. He trusted that the authorities would be able to find his missing car later—which they did. Did the apostle Peter feel likewise after being thrown into prison (Acts 12:4)? He was likely to face execution, yet the usually impulsive disciple “was sleeping between two soldiers” (v. 6). The angel had to “[strike] Peter on the side” to wake him up (v. 7)—suggesting that he was completely calm and at peace. Was it because he knew his life was in God’s hands? Verses 9 and 11 suggest that it wouldn’t have mattered whether he was rescued or not; perhaps he recalled the assurance of salvation and glory that Jesus had given him (Matthew 19:28), as well as Christ’s call to simply “follow me” and not worry about what would happen to him (John 21:22). No matter what we’re facing today, we can trust that God holds our future—both on earth and in heaven—in His mighty hands. Perhaps then we can more easily sleep in peace.

Ludwig van Beethoven is one of the most celebrated musicians in history. Nearly two centuries after his death in 1827, his compositions are still among the most performed pieces. His talent has been widely heralded, and he’s often described as a virtuoso. A study of Beethoven’s DNA, however, indicates he may not have been born with some of his abilities—as we might assume. When his genes were compared to those of 14,500 other people who’d shown an ability to keep rhythm (merely one aspect of musical talent), Beethoven ranked surprisingly low. Beethoven also had ample opportunity and exposure to music (which developed the genetic aptitude he did have). Yet neither talent nor opportunity fully account for God’s role in endowing us with the abilities we have. Our Creator equipped two men, Bezalel and Oholiab, with specific skills to be used in building the tabernacle. God filled Bezalel “with knowledge and with all kinds of skills—to make artistic designs” and appointed Oholiab “to help him” (Exodus 31:3-6). God gave “ability to all the skilled workers to make everything [He] commanded]” (v. 6). Few of us will work on projects as significant as God’s tabernacle. And our abilities may never be recorded in history’s annals. Yet God has equipped us with the skills, aptitudes, and experiences He wants us to share with the world. May we serve Him faithfully, in His strength and for His glory.

The painting hung on the wall of a home for years, unnoticed and forgotten, until one day it fell. When it was taken to an art restorer for repairs, he discovered it was a long-lost Rembrandt masterpiece titled The Adoration of the Magi. It had been thought that only copies of the work remained, but here was the original. Suddenly the painting’s value skyrocketed to hundreds of millions of dollars. The Bible paints another picture of underestimated value and forgotten worth. Isaiah the prophet, inspired by the Holy Spirit, told God’s people that even though they would be taken away to a foreign land where they would suffer and be devalued, He would still be with them: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine,” He assured them (Isaiah 43:1). Though they would “pass through the waters” and “walk through the fire” ( v. 2), His faithfulness to them would not change. With words that point to His coming kingdom in Christ, God promised that He would one day restore “everyone who is called by my name,” (v. 7) and bring them home to Him. God will one day gather all who are His because they “are precious and honored in [His] sight” (v. 4), each one an original! Our Creator values us because of His infinite kindness and mercy. The world may overlook us, but He never will.

From her hospital bed, Marie Coble lit up when she saw the delivery driver whose help had likely saved her life. She’d fallen in her driveway and hit her head, causing a brain bleed. Seeing her injury, Raheem Cooper helped her while calling paramedics. Invited by family to visit her in the hospital, Raheem often brings sweet treats she enjoys to assist her recovery. Their story brings to mind the parable of the Good Samaritan. The parable is Jesus’ reply to an expert’s question on what he must do to inherit eternal life. Do “what is written in the law,” Jesus said (Luke 10:26), including “love your neighbor as yourself” (v. 27). But the expert persisted, asking, “Who is my neighbor?” (v. 29). Christ’s answer describes a man attacked by robbers, left half dead, and then ignored by two people—a priest and a Levite—who passed him by. “But a Samaritan . . . took pity on him” (v. 33), bandaged his wounds, and took care of him. Seeing the hurting man in need, the Samaritan’s help was active, urgent, and without bias—looking past race or creed to assist someone he could’ve ignored. Thus, Jesus asked, which of these three was a neighbor to the man? “The one who had mercy on him,” the expert said. Said Jesus, “Go and do likewise” (v. 37). In Christ, we too can find the compassion to help a hurting person instead of passing by. It’s a lesson for all in sharing Jesus’ love.

Hippocrates (ca. 460–375 bc) brought medicine out of the realm of the superstitious and into the light of testing and observation. But he didn’t lose sight of the patient’s humanity. “It is far more important to know what person the disease has,” he said, “than what disease the person has.” The apostle Paul cared for a church with multiple problems, yet he saw the humanity of each member—including a man who’d committed a sin “that even pagans do not tolerate” (1 Corinthians 5:1). Paul dealt strongly with the “disease,” and the man repented. Now, as he wrote another letter to the church in Corinth, Paul had affirming instructions for all of them. He recognized that this man’s sin had affected everyone. “He has grieved all of you to some extent,” he said (2 Corinthians 2:5). But since the man had turned from his sin, Paul said, “Reaffirm your love for him” (v. 8). His motivation was clear: “I wrote you out of great distress and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to grieve you but to let you know the depth of my love for you” (v. 4). He knew them all. And he loved them. Sin affects us all. Behind each sin is a human being. When we’ve been wronged, it may be difficult to work toward restoration, yet that’s what God calls us to do. Know the person. Then, in Christ’s strength, love them.

When I led a ministry for moms of preschoolers, we hunted for an image to describe the unending demands that mothers experience. Changing diapers. Wiping noses. Picking up toys. It turns out the image was right in front of us: a disposable juice box, collapsed in on itself. Moms can feel like empty juice boxes. That ministry served moms by leading them to the Source of living water that can fill them to the full—Jesus. In John 7, Jesus went to the Festival of Tabernacles (v. 12), commemorating God’s provision during the Israelites’ wilderness wanderings. This festival included a water-pouring rite symbolizing the fruitfulness that only moisture produces and foreshadowed the spiritual rain the Messiah would bring. Jesus fulfills what the ancient festival anticipated. “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them” (vv. 37-38). At times, we can feel like empty containers. Weary from caregiving. Worn from working. Exhausted by everyday responsibilities. The unending demands draw us dry! But when we live in relationship with God, He provides springs of living water within our heart to refresh and refuel us no matter how many cares and concerns try to drain us.

In the midst of colorful creations made from old plastic bottles cut to resemble feathers and even lampshades, a tour guide at the New Orleans museum shared the thinking behind the use of such material. “For a city that’s had such hardship, we’ve also learned to use what we have to create joy and beauty. We don’t focus only on the hard times; we celebrate the resilience.” Nehemiah and the Israelites also faced hardship but resiliently pressed on in God’s joy. They’d been captured and taken away from their home, and at last were able to return to Jerusalem from exile (Nehemiah 4:7-12). But upon arriving, they still faced opposition to rebuild the wall that protected Jerusalem (Nehemiah 6). Even after the wall was completed and they gathered for a celebration, hearing the words of God’s law, their spirits were heavy. They were “weeping as they listened” (8:9). But Nehemiah reminded them that they could find joy and strength in God—remembering who He was and what He’d brought them through. Nehemiah told them, “The joy of the Lord is your strength” (v. 10). Focusing on God can give us joy and strength too, especially when our circumstances seem dire. God’s ability, character, and the Scriptures can renew our minds and bring us joy (v. 12)—providing the strength and resilience we need.

“Dad, can you get me some water?” my youngest daughter asked. “Sure,” I said, bringing her a full cup. She took it wordlessly. Then my oldest daughter made the same request. She didn’t respond either after I got her some water. Annoyed, I blurted out, “Is anyone going to say, ‘Thank you’? Why is that so hard?” Sometimes there’s nothing like parental frustration to open the door for God to work. Immediately, I felt the gentle nudge of the Holy Spirit: Yes, Adam, why is it so hard to say “Thank you”? Busted. Turns out a lack of gratitude isn’t just my kids’ problem; it’s mine, too. I don’t know why saying thank you can be so hard, but it certainly seems to be a part of the human condition. In the psalms, however, we see a model for growing in gratitude. There, David and others often praise God amid myriad trials. And a particular phrase frequently precedes their thanksgiving: “I will.” In Psalm 9:1, David deliberately chooses thankfulness: “I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds.” We might be prone to think of gratitude primarily as a feeling. But David reminds us that it’s also a choice. Like David, as we choose to cultivate a habit of giving thanks, we can gradually grow to recognize and appreciate God’s goodness in every aspect of life.

An older man jogging down a street in New York City stopped in his tracks when he noticed a pair of battered sneakers placed near a homeless man’s sign requesting help. When the jogger learned that the two men wore a similar size, he gave the younger, homeless man the shoes (and socks!) off his feet and walked home barefoot. But not before explaining, “I’ve been blessed my whole life. God has been very good to me, so I feel like I should bless you too.” Just as this man showed kindness to another because God had been good to him, so too believers in Jesus are called to “clothe [our]selves with . . . kindness” (Colossians 3:12). In fact, in whatever we do or say, we’re to do it as “a representative of the Lord Jesus” (v. 17 NLT). Along with kindness, we’re also to embody the characteristics of compassion, humility, gentleness, and patience (v. 12). These fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22–23) grow in us because we have the Spirit dwelling inside us; and they evidence God’s love for us flowing out to others—binding all these virtues “together in perfect unity” (Colossians 3:14). Like the jogger, may we be on alert for opportunities to be kind—an encouraging word, a thoughtful act, or even giving the shoes off our feet—and as we do, let’s point to Jesus (v. 17).

Corey Brooks—“The Rooftop Pastor”—spent 343 days living on the rooftop of his church on Chicago’s south side to inspire community transformation. Online, Brooks posted a “shout-out” to his elementary school teacher, Joe Stokes, who taught him four unforgettable lessons: the power of perseverance, the importance of integrity, the value of community engagement, and the impact of education. By embracing Solomon’s wisdom in Proverbs 3, we likewise can strive to live in ways that have community impact. Solomon taught four lessons that are just right for those who trust in God and are called to be a positive force: “Trust in the Lord” (v. 5); “fear the Lord and shun evil” (v. 7); “honor the Lord with your wealth” (v. 9); “do not despise the Lord’s discipline” (v. 11). Such wisdom compels us to be God-focused, but there are people-touching dimensions to our faith too. In Matthew 5:3-12, Jesus, the ultimate embodiment of wisdom, eloquently described the internal disposition of believers in Jesus. Furthermore, He reminded them that they were high-impact people. “You are the salt of the earth” (v. 13). “You are the light of the world” (v. 14). As such, we are honored to, “Let [our] light shine . . . that they may see [our] good deeds and glorify [our] Father in heaven” (v. 16).

On a sunny afternoon, I drew with sidewalk chalk with the Sudanese family next door. We could hear singing coming from the house next to theirs where a small group holds worship services. The young mom I was talking with was curious about what was going on, so she and I walked over and listened in. They invited us to gather with them. A young man, standing in a tank filled with water for baptism, spoke about receiving forgiveness for his sins and committing himself to follow Jesus. This was a unique opportunity for us to hear a testimony of salvation in the yard right next door. This group was being the church in our neighborhood. Jesus is building His church around the world. In the days before His ascension, He told His followers that He would send the Spirit to live in them and that they would be His witnesses “to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8). He would build His church through their Spirit-empowered preaching and teaching. And immediately God began to add “to their number daily those who were being saved” (2:47). We can be a part of building Christ’s church by being His church as we live out our faith in our neighborhoods and share with others what He’s done for us. He gave His life and was resurrected so that we might be forgiven and have eternal life. And He’ll help us learn how to serve others in His church today.

A few years ago, our church hosted refugees fleeing their country because of a change in political leadership. Entire families came with only what they could fit in a small bag. Several of our church families opened their homes, some with little room to spare. Such gracious hospitality echoes God’s command to the Israelites before they inhabited the promised land. As an agricultural society, they understood the importance of the harvest. Every bit of food would be essential to get them through until next year’s harvest. God told the Israelites when harvesting not to go back to retrieve what they may have missed. “Leave it for the foreigner, the fatherless and the widow” (Deuteronomy 24:19). They were to practice generosity not by giving when they knew they had enough but by giving out of a heart of trusting in God’s provision “so that God could bless the work of their hands” (v. 19). God always has enough. The practice of hospitality also reminded them that they had been “slaves in Egypt” (v. 22). While we may not have experienced such oppression, we’ve all experienced being an outsider or being in need. As we give to others, we do well to remember our most basic need: freedom from our sin. “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). When we’re hospitable, we celebrate our generous God who “loves a cheerful giver” (2 Corinthians 9:7).

Brenda and Eddie got in the car and began their Thursday evening ritual. “Where would you like to eat?” “Oh, Eddie, I don’t care, anywhere is fine, really.” Eddie’s been here before. “Okay, how about The Windmill?” Brenda bristles, “No, anywhere but there!” Eddie sighs. “So where then?” Brenda insists, “Really, anywhere is fine.” It’s the stuff of comedy sketches, humorous from a distance because we know how maddening it is in the moment. Sometimes it can be that way in our prayer lives too. We’re too vague. In contrast, the prayer in Daniel 9 reveals Daniel boldly saying what he wants. First, he confesses the sins of his people: “We have sinned and done wrong” (v. 5). Then he makes his requests. “Now, our God, hear the prayers and petitions of your servant” (v. 17). “Lord, listen! Lord, forgive! Lord, hear and act” (v. 19). God owed nothing to Daniel, but such was Daniel’s trust in God’s “great mercy” (v. 18) that he felt free to bring the full weight of his desires. It’s always right to pray “not as I will but as you will,” as Jesus prayed to His Father the night before He was crucified (Matthew 26:39). But there are also times when saying what we want is the way forward. God honors our boldness when we come before Him with repentant hearts. So be bold, pray what’s on your heart, and entrust it to the God of great mercy.

When Sun’s husband had a stroke, her life took a dramatic turn. She found herself having to assist her husband with daily living activities and cope with his emotional outbursts. For seventeen years, she’d faithfully cared for her husband. When a fall hastened his decline, however, the weight of caregiving finally became too much, and Sun sank into depression. She shared, “I felt I’d lost my faith, and I couldn’t see God.” But looking back, Sun now believes that God saw her. She believes that in very real and timely ways, He soon provided subsidized home medical and nursing care to manage her husband’s chronic condition and sent social workers to support Sun in managing the emotional challenges of caregiving. God revealed himself as the God who sees in the story of Hagar. In Genesis 16, the slave Hagar was running away from her mistress’ mistreatment (v. 6) when the angel of the Lord found her “near a spring in the desert” (v. 7). He urged Hagar to “go back to [her] mistress” (v. 9) and assured her of His blessing. Even though Hagar was a nobody in her culture, God was watching out for her well-being. In gratitude, Hagar declared: “You are the God who sees me” (v. 13). God sees us in our distress too. We’re never alone because our loving Father knows our situation, and He’s trustworthy. We can cry out to Him for help and trust that He will lift us up.

It was Tuesday at the gym, so the people walking around the track were supposed to go clockwise. The first walkers my wife joined were doing that. But then another person walked onto the track going counterclockwise. A couple of her friends joined her—and then another. Suddenly there was chaos on the track—and it took a few minutes to restore order. While no harm was intended by the wrong-way walkers, I couldn’t help but think about the power of influence. One person headed the wrong way leads to another, and on it goes. It’s a bit like Proverbs 13:20: “Walk with the wise and become wise, for a companion of fools suffers harm.” Following the lead of a person going the wrong way leads to trouble. In Galatians 5, Paul explains how such a mistake can halt our spiritual progress. “You were running a good race,” he says. “Who cut in on you to keep you from obeying the truth? That kind of persuasion does not come from the one who calls you” (vv. 7-8). God, who desires obedience, never leads us away from truth and “into confusion” (v. 10). But those who oppose His truth can hamper our spiritual walk by redirecting us from Him. God wants to be our guide. When we walk with Him we’ll never wander in the wrong direction.