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.

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.

The unassuming violinist, donning a baseball cap and T-shirt, set up near Washington D.C.’s L’Enfant Plaza subway station. He moved the bow across the strings, making melodious tunes. But commuters rushed past, oblivious. He played an entire music program with only a handful of people stopping to listen. If the crowd had only known they were rushing past Joshua Bell, one of the greatest virtuosos of our generation who the night before played at the Library of Congress. Bell played several of the most difficult, mesmerizing violin pieces in the world, all on a 1713 Stradivarius worth roughly $3.5 million.

It’s easy to be unaware, to miss wonders right in front of us. This was Jacob’s experience as he journeyed to Haran (Genesis 28:10). He stopped and set up camp in a simple spot that seemed like any other, just a place to lay his head for the night. God appeared to him in a midnight dream, however, telling him that his numerous descendants would bless “all peoples on earth” (v. 14). He also assured Jacob that He would “watch over [him] wherever [he] would go” (v. 15). When he awoke, Jacob said, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it” (v. 16).

God is everywhere, “[filling] heaven and earth” (Jeremiah 23:24). He’s present in the most ordinary places. Our invitation is to keep our eyes and ears open, to watch and listen for God.

In 1890, amateur ornithologist Eugene Schieffelin decided to release sixty European starlings into New York City’s Central Park. While there were likely several introductions of the species, Schieffelin’s released starlings resulted in the first successful documented nesting. Now there are roughly eighty-five million of the birds flapping across the continent. Unfortunately, starlings are invasive, pushing out native bird populations, spreading disease to cattle, and causing an estimated $800 million annually in damage. Schieffelin couldn’t have imagined the damage his choice would cause.

            Choices can have massive consequences. Though warned, Adam and Eve couldn’t have envisioned the disastrous ramifications of their choice on all creation. God had told them they were “free to eat from any tree in the garden” (Genesis 2:16), save one, the tree in “the middle of the garden” (3:3). But deceived by that wily serpent, “[Eve] took some and ate it” (v. 6). Then Adam followed, also choosing to eat the fruit God forbade. So much destruction, heartbreak, and ruin because of one choice.

            Every time we ignore God’s wisdom and choose another path, we invite calamity. It may seem that our choice is insignificant or only affects us; however, our narrow understanding or fleeting desires can easily lead us into a world of trouble. Choosing God’s way, though, leads us to life and flourishing.

When soccer star Sadio Mané from Senegal was playing for Liverpool in the English Premier League, he was one of the world’s highest paid African players, making millions of dollars per year. Fans spotted a picture of Mané carrying an iPhone with a cracked screen and joked about him using the damaged device. His response was unflustered. “Why would I want ten Ferraris, twenty diamond watches, and two jet planes?” he asked. “I starved, I worked in the fields, played barefoot, and didn’t go to school. Now I can help people. I prefer to build schools and give poor people food or clothing. . . . [Give] some of what life has given me.”

Mané knew how selfish it would be to hoard all his prosperity when so many of his neighbors back home struggled under crushing conditions. Hebrews reminds us that this generous way of life is for all of us, not only for those who are wealthy. “Do not forget to do good and to share with others,” Scripture says, “for with such sacrifices God is pleased” (13:16). Nurturing a generous heart isn’t only the right thing to do, but according to Hebrews, generosity also makes God smile. Who doesn’t want to make God pleased?

Generosity isn’t defined simply by how much we give. Instead, generosity refers to the posture of our heart. One thing we can do that’s “pleasing to [God]” (v. 21) is to simply open our hands and share what we have.

William Temple, a nineteenth-century English bishop, once concluded a sermon to Oxford students with the words of the hymn “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.” But he cautioned against taking the song lightly. “If you mean [the words] with all your hearts, sing them as loud as you can,” Temple said. “If you don’t mean them at all, keep silent. If you mean them even a little, and want to mean them more, sing them very softly.” The crowd went quiet as everyone eyed the lyrics. Slowly, thousands of voices began to sing in a whisper, mouthing the final lines with gravity: “Love so amazing, so divine / Demands my soul, my life, my all.”

Those Oxford students understood the reality that believing in and following Jesus is a serious choice, because it means saying yes to a radical love that demands everything from us. Following Christ requires our entire life, our whole being. He plainly told His disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24). No one should make this choice flippantly.

Yet, following Jesus is also the way to our deepest joy. Life with Him, we’ll discover, is the life we truly desire. It appears a great paradox. However, if we respond to God’s love, believe in Christ, and relinquish our selfish, shortsighted demands, we’ll find the life our soul craves (v. 25).

Of all the foolish things that have led to nations going to war, could a pastry be the worst of all? In 1832, amid tensions between France and Mexico, a group of Mexican army officers visited a French pastry shop in Mexico City and sampled all the baker’s goods without paying. Though the details get complicated (and other provocations compounded the troubles), the result was the first Franco-Mexican War (1838-39)—known as the Pastry War—in which more than three-hundred soldiers died. It’s sad what a moment of anger can incite.

Most human conflicts—shattered marriages and ruined friendships—are likely rooted in some form of unmanaged anger. Selfishness and power plays, unresolved misunderstandings, slights and counter-aggression—it’s all foolishness. So often, our ill-advised perceptions or reactions lead to destructive anger. Yet Ecclesiastes offers wisdom: “Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit, for anger resides in the lap of fools” (7:9).

It’s foolish to have a short fuse and be easily provoked to anger, especially when God offers a better way—perhaps through “the rebuke of a wise person” (v. 5). Pursuing wisdom, we can allow “the peace of God to rule in [our] hearts” (Colossians 3:15). We can live in wisdom and forgiveness as He helps us.

The US Department of Transportation reported that in 2021, US airlines mishandled two million bags. Thankfully, many pieces were delayed or lost for only a short period. Thousands of bags were lost for good, however. No wonder there’s a surging market for GPS devices that attach to gear, allowing you to track bags when airlines have given up. We’re all afraid that those in charge can’t be trusted to keep track of what’s important.

Israel had a similar fear about God, only they feared that He was going to lose them. As the people prepared to enter their new homeland, Moses shared the unsettling news that he wouldn’t be guiding them. He explained that he was old and “no longer able to lead [them]” (Deuteronomy 31:2). The people were likely stunned. Moses represented God’s presence and offered His words. Would He forget about them now? Would God lose them in this wilderness?

“Do not be afraid or terrified,” Moses said, “for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you” (v. 6). He promised that God would always be with them and assured that He would never ever lose them. And in the person of Jesus, God makes us this same steady, unbreakable promise. Christ will be with us “to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). God will never lose us. Never.

A Finnish soldier in the three-month Winter War with Russia (1939–1940) lay wounded on the battlefield. A Russian soldier walked his way, pointing his rifle. The Finn was certain he’d met his end. However, the Russian handed him a medic kit, then kept moving. Remarkably, the Finn later found himself in a similar situation, only the roles were reversed—a Russian soldier lay wounded and helpless on the battlefield. The Finn handed him medical supplies and walked on.  

Jesus gave us a central, guiding principle for our lives: “In everything, do to others what you would have them do to you” (Matthew 7:12) Can you imagine how different our world would be if believers kept this one simple principle? Can we calculate how much oppression would end if we collectively obeyed Jesus’ wisdom? If only, as He guides us, we would give others the same compassion and mercy we’d hope to receive ourselves. As we “give good gifts” to others we reflect the heart of our “Father in heaven [who gives] good gifts to” those He loves (v. 11).

It’s vital that we see others as not merely enemies or strangers or people with whom we compete for resources or opportunities. Instead, we should see their need for mercy and kindness just as we need it. And as we do, our posture and perspective will change. Then, as God provides, we can freely offer them the love He’s freely offered to us.

I flew to India, a land I’d never visited, and arrived at the Bengaluru airport after midnight. Though there’d been a flurry of emails, I didn’t know who was picking me up or where I should meet him. I followed the streaming mass of humanity to the baggage claim and customs, then out into the sticky night where I tried to spot a pair of friendly eyes among the sea of faces. For an hour, I walked back and forth in front of the crowd, hoping someone would recognize me. A kind man finally approached. “Are you Winn?” he asked. “I’m so sorry. I thought I’d recognize you, and you kept walking in front of me—but you didn’t look how I expected.”

We regularly get confused and fail to recognize people or places we should know. God provides an unmistakable way of recognizing Him, however. He arrived in our world as Jesus, who “is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of [God’s] being” (Hebrews 1:3). Christ is God’s exact representation. When we see Him, we have complete confidence that we are seeing God.

If we want to know what God is like—what He would say, how He would love—then we need only look and listen to Jesus. Are we truly hearing what “he has spoken” (v. 2) through Him? Are we actually following His truth? To be sure that we know how to recognize God, we fix our gaze on the Son and learn from Him.