Our Daily Bread Podcast | Our Daily Bread

In his book Man of Honor, Ray Pritchard shared the story of his stroll in a cemetery where he discovered a man’s grave marker with a wordy tribute. But then he describes an eye-catching epitaph on the gravestone of the man’s son: “A man of unquestioned integrity.” As Pritchard wrote: “Five words to sum up an entire life. Sixty-plus years distilled into five words. But, oh what truth they tell.” In Psalm 15:2, the concept of integrity is captured in the word blameless: “Those who lead blameless lives and do what is right, speaking the truth from sincere hearts” (nlt). This verse answers the question, “Who may worship in your sanctuary, Lord? Who may enter your presence on your holy hill?” (v. 1 nlt). The question (v. 1) and answer (v. 2) combination refers to communion with God. The rest of the psalm summarizes—in positive and negative terms—what a God-honoring life looks like. When we have intimate communion with God, it’s displayed in a life of integrity, particularly in how we treat others as the Spirit helps us (see Matthew 22:34-40; 1 John 3:16-18). It’s the posture of life that we assume when we believe in and follow Jesus—the one who lived in perfect communion with His Father.

As a young journalist, I quickly learned about the power of a “press pass.” That one credential—displaying my name, picture, and media outlet—unlocked countless doors by allowing me to meet and interview athletes and celebrities before or after major events. While I enjoyed having special access to public figures, the allure soon faded after I received Jesus as my Savior and started living for Him. I realized sports and my career had become my idols. When God called me out of my journalism career, I lost my press pass but gained the access that truly matters— access to God’s heavenly throne room through prayer because of Jesus’ sacrificial death and resurrection. The writer of Hebrews points out that a high priest was selected from among the Israelites, specifically one of Aaron’s descendants, and appointed for the sacred duty of representing the people before God. He was the only one who could enter the Most Holy Place in the temple once a year “to offer gifts and sacrifice” to atone for his and the people’s sins (5:1) for he too was a mere mortal man. Then Christ came, our great and perfect high priest. When He died, the veil in the temple was torn and the barrier that existed between God and humanity was removed (Matthew 27:51). Because our loving Redeemer has reconciled us to His Father, we can freely pray to God: “Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need” (Hebrews 4:16). What a privilege to have access to God’s throne room as we talk to Him in prayer.

Charles had sunk into depression. Despite having a loving family, he felt all alone. “The overwhelming pressure of supporting them was continuing to build,” he said, “and I felt like taking my own life.” Surprisingly—or perhaps not—Charles Morris also led a Christian ministry. A wise friend told him that when faced with depression, “We should soak in the Psalms.” Charles got through his deep despondency by reading relatable Bible passages, accepting prudent medical care, and pouring his heart out to God. The Psalms are often brutally honest. Heman the Ezrahite wrote one of the most bitter. Hope is found only in the opening lines: “Lord, you are the God who saves me” (88:1). Heman seems to accuse God: “You have put me in the lowest pit” (v. 6). “You have overwhelmed me” (v. 7). He had questions: “Why, Lord, do you reject me?” (v. 14). “Are your wonders known in the place of darkness?” (v. 12). Most psalms end with a message of hope. Not this one. Heman concludes, “Darkness is my closest friend” (v. 18). This is the prayer of a truly desperate man. Yet Heman directed all his pain to God. When we read psalms such as this one, we realize we’re not alone. Others have experienced desperate feelings and have dared to put voice to them. God could take such honesty from Heman. He can take it from you too. He’s there, and He’s listening.

In the classic film Citizen Kane, Charles Foster Kane amasses wealth and power by building a newspaper empire. In a story reminiscent of Ecclesiastes 2:4-11, Kane spares himself no pleasure, building a castle with grand gardens full of artistic treasures. Like other tycoons, what Kane really wants is adulation. He bankrolls his own political career and, when it fails, he blames the defeat on voter “fraud” to save face. He builds his wife an opera house and forces her into an ill-suited singing career to make him look good. Here too Kane’s story echoes Ecclesiastes, where wealth is found to harm those who chase and horde it (9:10-15), leaving them eating “in darkness, with great frustration” (5:17). By the end of his life, Charlie Kane lives in that castle alone, isolated, and angry. Citizen Kane ends with the revelation that Charlie’s pursuits have been driven to fill a void in his heart—the parental love he lost as a child. I can imagine the author of Ecclesiastes agreeing. Our Father God has set eternity in our hearts (3:11), and life can only be enjoyed with Him (2:25). Charlie Kane’s cautionary tale speaks to us all: don’t seek spiritual fulfilment through wealth and power, but through the one who pours His love into our hearts (Romans 5:5).

In 1997, Iowa State University named its football stadium after the school’s first black athlete: Jack Trice. Tragically, Trice never even played in Ames, Iowa—he died from internal injuries sustained during a play in his second college game, played in Minneapolis, Minnesota on October 6, 1923. Trice wrote a note to himself the night before, bearing witness to his determination: “The honor of my race, family, and self are at stake. Everyone is expecting me to do big things. I will! My whole body and soul are to be thrown recklessly about on the field tomorrow. Every time the ball is snapped, I will be trying to do more than my part.” Trice profoundly understood that what he did flowed from the honor and dignity of who he was, infusing his character with courage. The apostle Paul says something similar in Ephesians, challenging believers to let who they were in Christ influence every decision: “As a prisoner of the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received” (Ephesians 4:1). Paul challenges us to embrace a way of living shaped by Jesus’ work for us, in us, and through us, which yields humility, gentleness, patience, unity, love and peace (vv. 2-3) as we use our God-given gifts to serve one another (vv. 15-16).

During the Blitz on London on December 29, 1940, a bomb destroyed a warehouse near St. Paul’s Cathedral and the resulting fire raged for two days. When Biddy Chambers received the news that all 40,000 copies of Oswald Chambers’ books stored there were lost—which she had compiled and edited but not insured—she set down her tea cup and remarked to her daughter, “Well, God has used the books for His glory, but now that is over. We’ll wait and see what God will do now.” Perhaps Biddy was remembering what Oswald had written at the start of the First World War before his death. He noted how Jesus spoke to His disciples about “the inevitability of peril” so that when horrible things happened, they would “not be scared” because He was with them. Indeed, Jesus told His friends of the trials they would face: “In this world you will have trouble. But,” He continued, “take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). He wanted them to remain strong in their faith in His Father so they could withstand the trials and challenges they would endure. Biddy’s quiet confidence in God carried her through, and eventually the books were reprinted and became classics for generations. We too can find encouragement and hope in Jesus’ promises that He has overcome the world. We know that He won’t leave us (14:18) and will give us peace (v. 27), no matter what we face.

At electric vehicle charging stations across the US, some drivers overstay their time at “fast-chargers,” which are designed to help drivers quickly charge their cars and get back on the road. To resolve this unkind behavior, one of the largest charging networks has implemented strict time limits at some of its busiest stations. When a vehicle's battery charge reaches eighty-five percent, the driver must make room for the next car in need of a charge. The apostle Paul encouraged believers in Jesus to humbly “value others above [themselves]” (Philippians 2:3). He addressed an issue that was grating the Philippian church—self-centeredness. The people desired recognition and distinction, not from pure motives but from “selfish ambition” (v. 3). Paul urged the believers to have the mind of Christ and to look “to the interests of the others” (v.4). This didn’t mean that they should forget their own needs in an unhealthy way, but that they would care for others' needs as those who “have the same mindset as Christ Jesus” (v. 5). The apostle encouraged the Philippians to empty themselves of pride and to humbly make room for others. The ultimate motivation for making room? Love. As we seek to imitate Christ’s example each day (vv. 6-11), He can help us make room for others by viewing them with His loving eyes.

When I injured my ring finger, I expected months of pain before regaining its full function. As I practiced the prescribed exercises the finger next to it began to throb, so I consulted my doctor. “Sympathy pain,” he said. A branching between the nerves of the ring and pinky fingers causes dependence on one another. If one finger hurts, the other aches in sympathy. The apostle Paul uses the human body to illustrate the uniqueness and unity of God’s people. In 1 Corinthians 12:21–26, he reinforces how valuable each individual member is to the healthy functioning of the whole. Then he turns his attention to the unity achieved when we connect with each other. “If one part suffers, every part suffers with it” (v. 25). His description of the church’s interconnectedness is echoed in these verses, “mourn with those who mourn,” and “carry each other’s burdens” (Romans 12:15; Galatians 6:2). Today, as I extend my hand to greet someone or grab a spoon to prepare a meal for guests, I notice the strain in both my ring finger and my pinky. The various parts of our physical bodies work together to express pain and to strengthen each other toward health. I thank God that He reveals our need for connection to each other in His spiritual body, the church, through sympathy pain.

In 1947, with the dissolution of the British Indian Empire, more than 15 million people migrated for religious reasons. The upheaval was worsened by monsoon flooding and the spread of disease. More than a million refugees died. Throughout history, people have migrated—seeking freedom, safety, or a better life. The urge to move is ingrained in the human experience. The most famous example in Scripture is the exodus story of the Jews to the promised land. This experience wasn’t foreign to Jesus either. As a young baby, His parents fled to Egypt to protect His life from the murderous Herod. It’s ironic that as the Israelites fled to the promised land (Exodus 3:17) to get away from a king who killed young boys (Exodus 1:16), Joseph is told to take Jesus “and his mother and escape to Egypt” to flee a tyrant who did the same (Matthew 2:13, 17). Matthew tells us this journey was to fulfill the prophecy in Hosea 11:1 that “out of Egypt I called my son” (Matthew 2:15). But it’s also a reminder that Christ understands the human experience (Hebrews 4:15). We have a Savior who knows us and has experienced the same trials and tribulations we have. We can seek Him in our difficult moments. He listens and intercedes on our behalf (Hebrews 4:14-16).

On the first day of a camp where Alan teaches teens entrepreneurial skills, a student said, “You’re a Christian, aren’t you? I can tell.” Before Alan said he was a Christian or wore his favorite socks and ties decorated with Christian symbols, the teen said he saw Jesus through Alan’s words, actions, and attitude. They discussed how they could better represent Jesus wherever they go. Saying we’re Christian and wearing clothes with Christian messages are good things. However, the Bible teaches that the way we live and love as we share the gospel are the true identifiers of those who follow Jesus. The apostle Paul and the other believers in Corinth were compelled, or driven, to please God by living with an eternal perspective while sharing Him with others (2 Corinthians 5:9-14). When we’re committed to living for Jesus instead of for ourselves, the Holy Spirit changes our perspective, character, priorities, and ways of interacting with others (vv. 15-17). Our new life in Christ is intended to represent Him while we point others to Him, “as though God were making his appeal through us” (vv. 18-20). Empowered by the Spirit, we’re given the joy and responsibility of representing Jesus wherever we go.

After Kat learned she was pregnant, she dropped out of high school to care for her daughter. Fifteen years later, Kat was a working mother of three who dreamed of becoming a licensed beautician. With humility and tenacity, she became a student again in a free GED support program. It was humbling to go back to school after so long, but worth it. “This program changed my life!” Kat said. “My teacher was amazing and offered so much encouragement.” Remaining teachable may be one of the most difficult things we can do. The Bible speaks of having a teachable heart that’s open to God’s wisdom. The poetry of Proverbs paints a picture of two women calling out to passersby—wisdom and folly (Proverbs 9:1-6;13-18). Those who listen to wisdom receive correction with grace. They “add to their learning” and become even wiser (v. 9). They habitually “walk in the way of insight” (v. 6) and seat themselves at wisdom’s table for instruction. Their obedience leads to a full life (v. 11). In contrast, those who listen to folly hate being corrected or criticized. They insult anyone who tries to instruct them (vv. 7-8). Humility comes from fearing God—acknowledging that He is “the Holy One” and we are not (v. 10). It’s not easy to stay teachable, but it also brings freedom to admit we don’t know it all and we still need help. Wisdom calls to us. How will we respond?

The tugboat sank twenty miles off the coast of Nigeria, turning upside down as it fell to the sea floor. Eleven crew members drowned, but the ship’s cook Harrison Odjegba Okene found an air pocket and waited. He only had one bottle of Coke for provisions, and both of his flashlights died within the first twenty-four hours. For three terrifying days, Okene was trapped alone in darkness at the bottom of the ocean. He’d begun to give up hope when divers on a mission to recover dead bodies found him hunkered and shivering deep in the hull. The image of Okene alone in the dark for sixty hours is unnerving. He told reporters he still suffers nightmares from the horrifying ordeal. But can you imagine what he felt when he saw the diver’s powerful lamp piercing the darkness? What joy and elation, what hope. The prophet Isaiah foretold how, when the Messiah came, all “the people walking in darkness” would see “a great light” (9:2). Left to our own devices, we live “in the land of deep darkness,” but in Jesus, “a light has dawned” (v. 2). Christ is “the light of the world,” and In Him we need never again fear the darkness for we “have the light of life” (John 8:12). We may feel trapped or hopeless, alone or in despair, but God illuminates good news. Jesus carries us out of the dark and into His marvelous light.

A French sailor, along with his cat, was sailing from Dutch Harbor—located on an island south of Alaska—to San Diego, California, when his yacht was capsized by a huge wave. The vessel righted itself, but the mariner lost his rudder and rigging to the violent swells. He reported his dire situation to the Coast Guard, saying he was stranded, had no control, and his boat was “pretty much dead in the water.” Eventually, the Coast Guard contacted an oil drilling ship nearby, and they came to the sailor’s rescue. However, he still had to make a literal leap of faith—with his cat tucked under his jacket—from his boat to the rescue vessel. In Ephesians 2, Paul described the sinful and hopeless condition of humanity—dead in the water spiritually and separated from God (v. 1). Moreover, we were disobedient to all that He desires (v. 2) and depraved—unable to do anything to merit salvation (v. 3). But “by grace,” Jesus made it possible for us to be “saved, through faith,” and this salvation is a “gift of God” (v. 8). We were all stranded in the raging seas of sin and death, but praise God that we have a Savior who made it possible for us to leap into His saving arms by faith. Christ alone can rescue us and carry us to safety.

Football fans were stunned when Damar Hamlin of the Buffalo Bills collapsed on the field on live television after executing a seemingly routine tackle in January 2023. The twenty-four-year-old was in sudden cardiac arrest. His heart stopped beating but was restored by medical professionals while on the field. Amazingly, three months after dying and being resuscitated on the field, Hamlin was cleared to play football again. Hamlin has stated that he’s grateful to God and the medical staff for saving his life. He plans to continue being an inspiration to others. In John chapter 11, Lazarus also had a remarkable recovery. By the time Jesus had arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had been dead for four days. His distraught sisters, Mary and Martha, witnessed Jesus’ power over death and that He is “the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25). “Jesus called in a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!’ The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face” (vv. 43-44). We’re also examples of Christ’s resurrection power. We were once dead in our sins, but we’re now alive in Christ (Romans 6:1-11). As believers, the same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead lives inside of us (8:10-11). Be encouraged. While we’ll all die a physical death, that’s not the end of our story. We’re promised eternal life with Jesus.

As I drove down the steep ramp into the parking lot, anxiety swept over me. I’d been in this exact place before—and I’d gotten lost that time. But now, as I began to walk to the door near the elevator, a calm feeling filled my heart. I knew the way! I walked through the door and found the set of elevators I was seeking and soon was where I was supposed to be. My experience in finding my way through the maze of that parking structure reminds me that getting lost can sometimes help us find our way. Because I got lost during my first visit, I recalled what had gone wrong and remembered the door that led to my destination. There’s great joy in finding our way—something the “lost son” in today’s parable found to be true (Luke 15:24). “When he finally came to his senses” (v. 17 nlt), the wayward young man knew his way back home after having been lost in the world. He recognized all he had left behind and returned home where he received his father’s “love and compassion” (v. 20 nlt). The story says the father was overjoyed to receive his lost son and welcome him back, saying, “This son of mine was dead and has now returned to life. He was lost, but now he is found” (v. 24 nlt). If we’re lost spiritually, let’s look for the familiar way home God has provided. He points us toward His loving light and to where we’re supposed to be.

In the Holy Land, we loved walking where Jesus walked. Now I can more easily imagine the sights and sounds from His earthly life. But climbing up and down the uneven stones of the churches and countryside left its mark, and I arrived home with sore knees. Yet my ailments were minor compared with those journeying centuries ago, who not only experienced aching joints but suffered greatly—and even died. But God was with them. God called His people to follow Him and invited them to live in a flourishing “land flowing with milk and honey” (Exodus 3:8). He knew that as they entered the promised land, they would face danger from opposing armies and obstacles such as walled cities. God had been with them for forty years in their desert wanderings and wouldn’t abandon them now. He promised Joshua, the new leader, His presence with them: “I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Joshua 1:5). Joshua would face challenges and hardships, needing to be strong and courageous, but God would help him to do so. We who believe in Jesus, whether we’re called to stay or to go, will face dangers, challenges, and suffering in this life. But we can hold on to the promises of our God who will never leave us. Because of Him, we too can be strong and courageous.

Coniston Water in England’s beautiful Lake District is a favorite vacation spot for families in the UK. The waters are perfect for boating, swimming, and other water sports. That beautiful setting, however, was also the site of great tragedy. In 1967, Donald Campbell was piloting his hydroplane Bluebird K7, seeking to break the world water speed record. He reached a top speed of 328 mph (528 km/h) but didn’t live to celebrate the achievement as Bluebird crashed, killing Campbell. Tragic moments can happen in beautiful places. In Genesis 2, the Creator “took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and take care of it” (v. 15). The garden was a masterpiece, yet when placed in this paradise, the man and woman disobeyed God, bringing sin and death into His creation (3:6-7). Today, we continue to see the destructive effects of their tragic choice. But Jesus came to offer life to us—people who were dead in our sins. The apostle Paul, referring to that, wrote, “Just as through the disobedience of the one man [Adam] the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man [Jesus Christ] the many will be made righteous” (Romans 5:19). Because of Jesus, the most beautiful home of all awaits us. Out of beauty came tragedy. And by God’s grace, out of tragedy came eternal beauty.

One of my daughter’s most vivid childhood memories is the day her dad taught her to ride a bike without training wheels. At one point in their outing, my husband balanced his feet on the hubs of her rear wheel (while she kept hers on the pedals and they shared the handlebars) so they could coast down a small, gently sloping section together. She remembers her dad laughing with joy—a sharp contrast to her own fearful experience of the moment. The ride was so short that the entire episode happened too quickly for him to stop and empathize with her. As they reminisce about the incident today, my husband’s gentle response to her recollection is to reassure her that he knew everything would be okay. Their story is an apt metaphor for the moments when we too experience fear in life. The “hills” might look big and scary from our vantage point and the risk of being hurt can seem very real. Yet Scripture assures us that because “the Lord is with [us],” we don’t need to “be afraid” (Psalm 118:6). Though human help may fail us, He’s a trustworthy refuge when we feel overwhelmed by our struggles (vv. 8-9). God is our “helper” (v. 7), which means we can trust Him to care for us during life’s most trying and fearful moments. Despite any falls, scars, and pain we might endure, His saving presence is our “strength” and “defense” (v. 14).

Dante’s neighborhood in Manila was prone to flooding. On rainy days, the little boy reached school by crossing a makeshift wooden bridge put up by a neighbor. “Mr. Tomas helped the community get around,” Dante said. “He’d guide me on the bridge, shielding me from the rain.” Years later, Dante joined a church north of Manila. Leo, his Bible study leader, mentored him. In a conversation about their childhoods, Dante discovered Leo was Mr. Tomas’ son! “There’s no such thing as coincidence,” Dante said. “God used the son of a man who’d blessed me to help me in my faith.” A woman from the town of Shunem also experienced God’s providence. In faith, she’d followed the prophet Elisha’s advice, leaving home to avoid a famine (2 Kings 8:1-2). In doing so, she’d forfeited her claim to her house and land. Now, at the exact moment she was seeking help from the king about this matter, the king just happened to be talking with Gehazi, Elisha’s servant, about her. Years earlier, Gehazi had seen the woman’s dead son raised to life. Now, Gehazi said, "This is the woman, my lord the king, and this is her son whom Elisha restored to life" (v. 5). The king then “assigned an official to her case” (v. 6) and returned her property. We’ll always experience God’s care especially when things may not go as we planned. Our sovereign God will help us.

Adolfo Kaminsky knew how to remove indelible ink from paper. As a member of the anti-Nazi resistance in France, he altered identification cards to save hundreds from concentration camps. Once he was given three days to forge nine hundred birth and baptismal certificates and ration cards for three hundred Jewish children. He labored two straight days without sleep, telling himself, “In one hour I can make thirty blank documents. If I sleep for an hour thirty people will die.” The apostle Paul felt a similar urgency. He reminded the church in Ephesus how he’d “served the Lord with great humility and with tears and in the midst of severe testing” (Acts 20:19). Paul said, “I have not hesitated to preach anything that would be helpful to you” (v. 20). This urgency compelled him to share with everyone the necessity of repentance and faith in Jesus (v. 21). Now he was sailing back to Jerusalem, eager to “finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace” (v. 24). Paul couldn’t save people. Only God does that. But he could tell them God’s good news about Jesus, the only “name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12). Who is the Holy Spirit bringing to your mind today? You can share God’s good news with them.

Richard Griffin was Queen Elizabeth II’s personal police officer for fourteen years. Accompanying her on a picnic in the hills near Balmoral Castle one day, they met two American hikers. “Have you ever met the Queen?” they asked, not recognizing the monarch in plain dress. “I haven’t,” the Queen quipped, “but Richard here meets her regularly!” Thrilled to meet someone close to royalty, the hikers then handed the Queen their camera, posed with Richard, and asked her to take a photo! It isn’t the first time someone has been in the presence of an important person unawares. “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it,” Jacob said after encountering God in a dream at Bethel (Genesis 28:16). And when Philip asked Jesus to show the disciples the Father, Jesus replied, “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9). Like the hikers, the disciples had been ready to hand Jesus the camera, not recognizing He was the One to zoom in on (vv. 10-11). Like the Queen that day, Jesus hasn’t always been recognized for who He really is. Beyond a “wise teacher” or “great moral leader,” He’s God in the flesh and King of the world (1:14; 18:36). What a revelation it is when we discover it!

When I accompanied my friend to the salon on her birthday, we were delighted by the pampering we received. Soothing music and a personal attendant welcomed us to the tranquil, dimly lit spa. The whole experience was calm, quiet, and restful. I had to suppress a giggle, however, at a sign displayed on a table proclaiming: “This organic hair-care line gives you more than beautiful hair—it gives you peace of mind.” Even though we know neither hair products nor a salon can bring lasting peace, we often settle for temporary relief when our world is stressful. True peace only comes from one thing—or rather, one person. While encouraging the believers in Jesus in Rome, Paul reminded them, “Since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:1). Sin separates us from God, but Christ’s atoning sacrifice makes a way for us to have a relationship with Him (5:9-10). Jesus offers peace for today and peace for eternity—providing “access into this grace” (v. 1), “the hope of the glory of God” (v. 2) and hope despite earthly suffering (vv. 3-4). Peace with God is more than simply a feeling, it’s a gift we receive through faith in Jesus. Whether we feel close to God or not, His peace is available to us— at a salon or a hospital, in times of serenity and times of chaos.

On September 22, 1959, a devotional article appeared in Our Daily Bread written by Dr. M. R. DeHaan. He wrote about how he yearned for a box of Cracker Jack candied popcorn. His intention was to relate it to the yearning for the Scriptures. But to his surprise, a few weeks later, boxes upon boxes of Cracker Jack popcorn began arriving at his office. His desire for Cracker Jack was satisfied by the loyal readers of his devotional. Letting the practice of regular immersion in Scripture slip away is always easy. That’s why we need to yearn for something “sweeter than honey” (Psalm 19:10). The psalmist David encourages us to know that God’s words are “perfect, refreshing the soul”; they’re “trustworthy” and full of wisdom (v. 7). He explains that “the precepts of the Lord are right, giving joy to the heart” (v. 8). Dr. DeHaan encouraged readers to make interaction with the Scriptures a habit, something they craved each day, just like sweet popcorn. It’s vital for us as well to develop a habit of meditating and reflecting on the Bible, and responding to its truths, in a regular manner. As God helps us, let’s be like David who said, “May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight” (v. 14).

When a patch of irritated skin formed near my left eye, I used makeup to cover it. Temporarily, this kept my problem a secret. After a while though, the swollen red spot didn’t clear up, and I knew it needed medical attention. On the morning of the doctor’s appointment, I was tempted to apply makeup as usual, but I didn’t. I wanted the doctor to see the problem clearly and treat it so it could heal. Have you ever tried to hide a sin problem? Maybe you’re aware that some action or thought is controlling you, but you’ve avoided praying about it or mentioning it to friends and family. Maybe you think it’s no big deal because many other people are dealing with similar issues. But it’s impossible to thrive spiritually when sin is secretly fouling up our lives. As Proverbs 28:13 says, “Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper.” Thankfully the verse continues, “but the one who confesses and renounces [sin] finds mercy” (v. 13). It can be hard to adopt God’s view of our actions and admit that certain practices are wrong. However, His kindness eases the process of humbling ourselves. When we welcome the power of Christ’s Spirit into our struggle, we can reject the wrong that tempts us (Galatians 5:16-17, 22-24). As God guides us, change is possible, and our spiritual health is worth the effort!

Years ago, a lumpy package arrived in my mailbox. I noticed my best friend’s return address on it and smiled. Joe sometimes sends me unexpected things. This package qualified: Inside was a dark brown shark’s tooth—five inches long. Joe’s letter explained: It was a fossilized tooth from a prehistoric shark, a megalodon many times bigger than a great white shark. I tried to fathom how big a fish’s jaw would have to be to contain rows of such teeth. Scientists offer a speculative answer: nine by eleven feet. What a sight these creatures must have been! Scripture doesn’t mention megalodons. But in the book of Job, God describes a sea beast called Leviathan. Job 41 details its impressive frame. “I will not fail to speak of Leviathan’s limbs, its strength and its graceful form,” God tells Job (v. 12). “Who dares open the doors of its mouth, ringed about with fearsome teeth?” (v. 14). The answer? Only Leviathan’s creator. And here, God reminds Job that as great as this beast might be, it’s nothing compared to its Creator: “Everything under heaven belongs to me” (v. 11). That meg tooth sits on my desk, a visual token of our Creator’s majesty and creativity. And that unlikely reminder of God’s character comforts me when it feels like the world might eat me up and spit me out.

Her husband’s death began a period of transition for Nora. She took over his hardware business and cared for their three children on her own. “Be strong,” friends often told her. But what does that mean? she’d think. That I must deliver without fail in my responsibilities? God gave great responsibilities to Othniel in a time of transition for the people of Israel. As discipline for the nation’s idolatry, God had given them “into the hands of Cushan-Rishathaim . . . to whom the Israelites were subject for eight years” (Judges 3:8). Under the cruel king of Mesopotamia, the Israelites “cried out to the Lord,” and “he raised up for them a deliverer” (v. 9)—Othniel, whose name means “God’s strength.” As the first judge of Israel, Othniel had no predecessor to help him. This military leader had to guide the Israelites back to living out their covenant relationship with God and defend them from their enemies. But because “the Spirit of the Lord came on him” (v. 10), he succeeded. With God’s strength sustaining Othniel’s leadership, “the land had peace for forty years, until [he] died” (v. 11). How can we truly “be strong”? It’s by knowing we’re not strong and by trusting God to give us His strength. His “grace is sufficient for [us], for [His] power is made perfect in weaknes

Doctor Dolittle, the fictional doctor who converses with animals, has delighted fans through books, movies, and plays. However, few people know that author Hugh Lofting first wrote the Dolittle tales to his children from the ghastly trenches of World War I. He later said that the war was too awful to recount in his letters—so he wrote and illustrated stories instead. These whimsical, joy-filled tales were Lofting’s way of pushing back against the war’s horror. It’s inspiring to see a person moving against the menacing, degrading forces that seem too powerful to thwart. We admire this resilient courage because we fear that injustice, violence, and greed will triumph. Sometimes we fear that the whole world will be “overcome by evil” (Romans 12:21). And these fears are well-founded if we’re left to ourselves. However, God has not left us to ourselves. He fills us with His divine strength, places us in the action, and calls us to “overcome evil with good” (v. 21). We each overcome evil with good in whatever ways God has put into our hearts. Some of us write beautiful stories. Some of us care for the poor. Some of us make our homes places of welcome. Some of us share God’s story through melody, poetry, or conversation. In a myriad of ways, we carry His goodness and peace into the world (v. 18), overcoming evil as we go.

Early in the basketball season, the coach at our neighborhood middle school seemed to work hardest convincing his players to risk shooting the ball. “Shoot!” he pleaded from the sidelines. His players eagerly passed the ball. Dribbling was a favorite too. The season was half over before most of them would shed their doubts and try to shoot the ball to score. But “going for it” made all the difference. By obeying their coach, letting go of doubt, and trying—even if they often missed the target—they learned to win. Jesus teaches us to let go of doubt to obey His call to make disciples. He explains, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:18-20). In practical terms, this can mean stepping out of our comfort to share our story of what God has done for us. Or getting involved in the lives of our hurting neighbors, showing them Jesus’ love. Such approaches work, but only if we let go and try them. Above all, we go in Jesus’ authority to attempt what may look hard—making disciples. But we need not fear. Jesus promised: “Surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (v. 20).

Sitting in the hospital’s neonatal intensive care unit, I visited with a mother as her newborn baby cuddled up against her chest. In this technologically advanced medical facility, the doctors had recommended a very low-tech “prescription” to improve and strengthen the child’s health—the new mom was to spend extended periods of time simply holding her daughter. There’s almost nothing like the overwhelming love and tender compassion of a parent to provide healing comfort for a child. We see this powerful imagery in the prophet Isaiah’s description of God with His people. Even after prophesying impending exile for the nation of Israel because they’d rejected God (Isaiah 39:5-7), Isaiah emphasized to the people that God still loved them and would always provide for them. God’s tender compassion and secure care is evident in the beautiful metaphor where He is described as a shepherd who, much like a loving father, gathers His sheep “in his arms and carries them close to his heart” (40:11). God’s presence grants us peace and protection and reminds us that He carries us close to His heart, like a newborn baby with its mother. As He “gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak” (v. 29), the Spirit’s healing comfort allows us to meet the challenges of each day.

Her fans knew her as Nightbirde. Singer-songwriter Jane Kristen Marczewski won a following in 2021 on a popular TV talent show. In 2017, she’d been diagnosed with Stage 3 breast cancer. In 2018, she went into remission. She started touring, but months later the cancer returned, giving her little chance of survival. Amazingly, she recovered and was declared cancer-free. But on February 19, 2022, Nightbirde died. During her difficult journey, she blogged, “I remind myself that I’m praying to the God who let the Israelites stay lost for decades. They begged to arrive . . . but instead He let them wander, answering prayers they didn’t pray. . . . Every morning, He sent them mercy-bread from heaven . . . . I look for the mercy-bread . . . The Israelites called it manna, which means ‘what is it?’ That’s the same question I’m asking . . . . There’s mercy here somewhere—but what is it?” The exodus story reveals much about God’s mercy. First, His mercy was promised to the Israelites. “You will be filled with bread” (Exodus 16:12). And second, His mercy may surprise us. “They did not know what it was” (v. 15). Mercy often doesn’t look like what we think. But it’s mercy nonetheless. For the Israelites, it looked like morning manna. For Nightbirde, she wrote of the gift of a blanket from a friend, and her mother’s hands.

such things. Philippians 4:8 Lap after lap, Katie Ledecky was in a familiar spot during the 1500-meter freestyle race at the 2024 Paris Olympics. For some fifteen minutes, she was far ahead of the rest of the swimmers and alone with her thoughts. What was Ledecky thinking about during the long race? In an interview conducted immediately following her gold-medal-winning performance in which she set a new Olympic record, Ledecky said she was thinking about her training partners and saying their names in her head. Distance swimmers aren’t the only ones who need to focus their minds on the right things. We as believers in Jesus also need to guard our thoughts throughout our faith journey. The apostle Paul encouraged the Philippian church to “rejoice in the Lord,” not be “anxious about anything, but pray about everything (Philippians 4:4, 6). The result? “The peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (v. 7). Jesus, the Prince of Peace, helps put our worries and troubles in perspective. Paul also encouraged believers: “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (v. 8). As we go about our day, let’s be aware of our thoughts. When we see God’s hand in our life, we can count our blessings and worship Him.

I viewed the opening displays of the 9/11 Memorial & Museum in New York City with curiosity but kept my emotions in check. That changed when we entered the inner exhibit, which the curators have wisely closed off from children and those wanting to shield themselves from the more heartrending images. As I encountered story after story of heartbreak and loss, waves of lament rose within me. When we witness or remember such destruction and pain, we can join the cries of those who have voiced their distress to God. This includes the words of anguish found in Lamentations, which many scholars believe the prophet Jeremiah wrote after the destruction of Jerusalem. In the tightly formed structure of this poem, he releases his sorrow and grief over the pain of God’s people: “See, Lord, how distressed I am! I am in torment within, and in my heart I am disturbed” (Lamentations 1:20). And yet he looks to God as the ultimate judge, knowing that only He can deal with the sins and destruction: “Let all their wickedness come before you” (v. 22). This kind of honest crying out to God can help us to grapple with painful atrocities such as what happened on September 11, 2001, or other current-day evil deeds. We look to God for help, hope, comfort, and justice.

Anita Bailey’s heart was warmed when she got this social media message about her son Jalen: “I was a greeter today at [church] and a young man with a child in his arms came up to me and put his arms around me. . . . I stared for a second, then I recognized him and said, ‘Jalen’! We embraced and chatted briefly. What a fine young man!” The greeter had known Jalen in his rebellious days when Anita and her husband, Ed, felt powerless to save their son from the consequences of his unwise choices, which resulted in twelve years in prison for him. Though the Baileys felt powerless, they were not prayerless. And neither was King Jehoshaphat in 2 Chronicles 20. When harassed by a menacing coalition of enemy forces, he called a prayer meeting (vv. 1-4). “Our God, will you not judge them?” he prayed. “For we have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (v. 12). Have you ever felt powerless or clueless in the face of circumstances that were out of your control? Why not call a prayer meeting—either alone or with others? That’s what Jesus did in the face of His coming crucifixion (Luke 22:39-44). Prayer space is the sacred place where the petitions of powerless people are offered to our almighty God in the name of Jesus.

Before he was martyred for his steadfast faith in Jesus, an African minister whose name has not been preserved penned “A Martyr’s Prayer.” This profound message from another era has become known as “The Fellowship of the Unashamed.” This pastor’s words present a challenge to all believers in Jesus—a challenge that echoes the words of the apostle Paul, who wrote in his letter to his young friend Timothy: “Do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord” (2 Timothy 1:8) because the Holy Spirit gives us “power, love and self-discipline” (v. 7). Here, in part, is what that faithful African pastor wrote: “I am part of the fellowship of the unashamed. The decision has been made. I am a disciple of [Jesus] and I won’t back up, let up, slow down, back away, or be still. My past is redeemed. My present makes sense. My future is secure. . . . I live by faith, lean on His presence, walk by patience, lift by prayer, and labor by the Holy Spirit’s power.” Both Timothy and that pastor faced difficulties we may never experience, but their words challenge us to stand strong when our faith is tested. We can remain unashamed because God “is able to guard what [we] have entrusted to him” (v. 12)—our lives and our future.

When my friend Connor takes pictures on his old film camera, he doesn’t bother to find attractive lighting or airbrush blemishes or crop out anything unsightly. His photos are startlingly raw. They stand out in my social media feed next to heavily edited photos of gorgeous people and places. Though unconventional, his work is beautiful because it communicates truth about how things really are. We all long for what’s real, but sometimes the truth isn’t attractive to us. Close to the time of His death, Jesus declared, “I am . . . the truth” (John 14:6). His disciples were wondering how they could get to the Father’s house that Jesus spoke so longingly about (vv. 2-3). They failed to see that Jesus standing in front of them was the answer. They struggled to understand that He would bring victory through His own sacrifice. Isaiah prophesied that the coming Messiah would have no beauty or majesty, “nothing in his appearance that we should desire him” (Isaiah 53:2). Much of what Jesus said was so challenging and unexpected that it turned religious people against Him (John 11:45-48). Yet He gave an open invitation to know the truth and find real life. “If you really know me,” said Jesus, “you will know my Father as well” (John 14:7). In the midst of an airbrushed and unrealistic world, we can embrace that beautiful, raw truth today!

“Oh, you look so serious!” I said to my ten-week-old granddaughter Leilani. She was studying my face with a knitted brow as I talked to her. “I’d be serious too,” I continued, “looking at this world. But you know what? Mama loves you, Daddy loves you, and Baba and Papa (our nicknames as grandparents) love you too. But best of all, Jesus loves you! And that means everything!” Then it happened. Like a cloud letting the sun through, the furrow left her brow and her little face lit up with a smile that melted my heart. Like most grandparents, I’d like to believe she understood me, though that may be a stretch. But perhaps she caught some of the joy behind my words. The simple, innocent joy that shone on her face brought to mind Jesus’ words that we must “receive the kingdom of God like a little child” (Mark 10:15). Jesus said those words as “people were bringing little children” to Him so He might “place his hands on them” and bless them (vv. 13, 16). But “the disciples rebuked them,” thinking Jesus too busy or important. That troubled Him (vv. 14-15). Children are naturally humble and dependent. To receive God’s kindness to us in Christ, we too must turn from pride and admit our need for Him in everything. As we do, He exchanges this world’s hopelessness with the promise of life with God forever. And that should make us smile.

The news was horrific. A live-in foreign domestic helper had been so ill-treated by the family she worked for that she died. The employers were eventually jailed, but I felt it wasn’t enough. They should have suffered the same horrors they put that poor girl through, I thought, and then put to death. Then I wondered if my anger had crossed the line. Was I wrong to think such things? Reading Psalm 109 gave me an insight into our natural sense of justice. David, for one, wrestled with anger toward those who wronged the poor and needy. “May his days be few . . . . May his children be fatherless and his wife a widow,” he charged (vv. 8-9). But King David didn’t take revenge on these men—even though he had the power to. Instead, he turned to God as the true source of justice and deliverance. “May this be the Lord’s payment to my accusers, to those who speak evil of me,” he said. “Save me according to your unfailing love” (vv. 20, 26). I believe God made us with an inherent sense of justice, for it reflects His own character. And we can express our feelings honestly. But, ultimately, we’re to leave judgment and punishment to Him—trusting Him to bring justice in His time and way. The apostle Paul states things clearly: “Do not take revenge . . . but leave room for God’s wrath” (Romans 12:19).

A team of landscape architects studied the effects of providing a fence around a preschool playground. On playgrounds without fences, children tended to gather close to the school building and their teacher and didn’t stray away. But on fenced-in playgrounds, they enjoyed the entire area. The researchers concluded that boundaries can create a greater sense of freedom. This seems counterintuitive to so many of us who think boundaries restrict enjoyment. Yet fences can provide freedom! God underlines the freedom His boundaries provide for us. In offering the Ten Commandments to Israel, He promised that a “prosperous” life would result from living life within His divine boundaries. “Walk in obedience to all that the Lord your God has commanded you, so that you may live and prosper and prolong your days in the land that you will possess” (Deuteronomy 5:33). Here the concept of prosperity includes a life lived with good results—a life of quality. Jesus, who fulfilled the law with His death on the cross, proclaimed, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31-32). Indeed, God’s boundaries are for our good. “Fences” can free us to enjoy the life God created us to experience with Him.

Ginnie Hislop received a standing ovation as she was handed her master’s degree diploma in 2024. Why? It came eighty-four years after she’d completed her coursework! In 1941, she needed only to submit her thesis. But her then boyfriend, George, was suddenly called to serve during World War II. The two quickly married and headed to his army outpost—leaving Ginnie’s nearly realized degree behind. But after a lengthy pause, she was finally able to complete what she’d started. Ezra was a student of Scripture—one who truly had an “advanced degree” in God’s law—who’d been waiting years to return to Jerusalem from exile in Babylon. “Ezra had devoted himself to the study and observance of the Law of the Lord, and to teaching its decrees” (Ezra 7:10). Zerubbabel and a group of Israelite exiles had been permitted to return from Babylon to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem decades earlier (2:1-2). And now Ezra, who had “the gracious hand of his God . . . on him” (7:9), was leading more exiles to Jerusalem. God would use him to reform and restore the proper worship of Him according to Scripture: “Ezra opened the book [of the Law]. All the people . . . bowed down and worshiped the Lord” (Nehemiah 8:5-6). Ezra had to wait decades, but he completed his calling in God’s strength. In His power, let’s persist in finishing the work He has for us.

A pack of hyenas surrounded a lone lioness. When the cackling beasts attacked, the lioness fought back. Biting, clawing, growling, and roaring in a desperate attempt to ward off her enemies, she finally fell. As the clan engulfed her, another lioness came to the rescue with three helpers only seconds behind her. Though outnumbered, the big cats fought off the hyenas until they scattered. The lionesses stood together, scanning the horizon as if expecting another attack. Believers in Jesus desperately need help from others too. The most powerful help we can offer is prayer. The apostle Paul wrote in a letter to the church in Rome, “I urge you, brothers and sisters, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by the love of the Spirit, to join me in my struggle by praying to God for me” (Romans 15:30). Paul asked them to pray that he would “be kept safe from the unbelievers in Judea” and that the “Lord’s people” would receive him and his gifts “favorably” (v. 31). He acknowledged the rewards of being a part of their community (v. 32). He stood with them in prayer, too, ending his letter with a blessing: “The God of peace be with you all” (v. 33). As we live for Jesus, we’ll face adversaries in the physical and spiritual realms. God promises to be with us and fight on our behalf, however, as we stand together . . . always ready to pray.

Morse was the son of a Protestant minister and a struggling painter of landscapes. In the 1820s, he made a meager living as a limner—“an itinerant painter” of colonial America. But his was a life God led in another direction. Morse also had an interest in science. He learned about electromagnets, conceiving an idea that would change the world. In 1832, Samuel F. B. Morse conceived the idea of an electric telegraph and later went on to make the first working telegraph. Probably the most dramatic biblical account of “career change” was that of Saul, who was “breathing out murderous threats” against believers in Christ (Acts 9:1). Jesus appeared to him in a great light (v. 3) saying that Saul was persecuting Him. Essentially, Saul was told to stop because he was under new orders now (v. 6). Saul did a U-turn in his life and assumed a new identity in Christ as the apostle who would eventually spread the gospel wherever he went. Sometimes what we think is our future really isn’t. God leads us in another direction. Perhaps He needs to call us out of our sin. Or maybe it’s a change of ministry or vocation. When God redirects our lives, we do well to stop what we’re doing and follow our new orders. And as our new path opens before us, we might just echo the joy of the first dot-and-dash message of Morse’s telegraph: “What hath God wrought!”

In her blog post “Regrets of the Dying,” Bronnie Ware outlines regrets she heard as a nurse caring for the terminally ill. Among them were “I wish I hadn’t worked so hard” and “I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.” Perhaps most intriguing: “I wish that I had let myself be happier.” “Facing our own inevitable death is a fabulous tool for joy-filled living,” Ware writes. That’s sound advice, but what is the source of such joy? Where do we find ultimate meaning? As a young man, John the disciple held a distorted view of life’s purpose. He and his brother asked Jesus, “Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory” (Mark 10:37). Their request only sparked dissension among the disciples (v. 41). Decades later John held a drastically different view—one of love and community in Jesus. John saw Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection as foundational to everything. “We proclaim to you the eternal life,” he wrote (1 John 1:2). John told us about Jesus so that “you also may have fellowship with us” (v. 3). Then he added, “Our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. We write this to make our joy complete” (vv. 3-4). Life can bring regrets. Jesus invites us to exchange them for the complete joy only He can give.