A few years ago, our church was invited to host refugees fleeing their country after a tumultuous 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, including some who had little room to spare. 

Their gracious hospitality reflects God’s command to the Israelites when they entered the promised land (Deuteronomy 24:19-21). As an agricultural society, they understood the importance of the harvest. The crops were essential to get them through until next year. This makes God’s command to “leave [some] for the foreigner, fatherless and widow” (v. 19) also a request to trust Him. The Israelites were to practice generosity not by giving only when they knew they had enough but giving out of a heart that trusts God’s provision. 

Such hospitality was also a reminder “that you were slaves in Egypt” (vv. 18, 22). They were once oppressed and destitute. Their generosity was a reminder of God’s graciousness to them in freeing them from bondage.

Believers in Jesus are similarly urged to be generous. Paul reminds us, “Though [Christ] was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9). We give because He gave to us. 

It had been years since we left the Oregon town where we raised our family. We’d made great memories there, and the visit reminded me of moments I’d forgotten: our girls’ soccer games, our old home, church gatherings, and our friends’ Mexican restaurant. The town had changed, but there was enough of the familiar to spark my desire to return.

When the Israelites went into Babylonian exile, they missed the familiarity of people, landmarks, and culture. They forgot they’d been exiled for rebelling against God. When false prophets told the exiles they would return home soon (Jeremiah 29:8–9), they found a receptive audience. It was easy to listen to the slick words of false prophets who promised a return home.

God didn’t take kindly to these peddlers of the past and their false promises. “Do not let the prophets and diviners among you deceive you,” He said (vv. 8–9). He had plans for His people, “plans to give you hope and a future” (v. 11). The situation was challenging, difficult, and new, but God was with them. “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart,” He told them. God would bring them “back to the place from which I carried you into exile” (vv. 13-14).

Nostalgia plays tricks on the mind, making it easy to long for what once was. Don’t miss what God is doing right now. He will fulfill His promises. 

“Please clean the front room before you go to bed,” I said to one of my daughters. Instantly came the reply, “Why doesn’t she have to do it?” 

Such mild resistance was frequent in our home when our girls were young. My response was always the same: “Don’t worry about your sisters; I asked you.”

In John 21, we see this human tendency illustrated among the disciples. Jesus had just restored Peter after he had denied Him three times (see John 18:15–18, 25–27). Now Jesus said to Peter, “Follow me!” (21:19)—a simple but painful command. Jesus explained that Peter would follow him to the death (vv. 18–19).

Peter barely had time to comprehend Jesus’ words before he asked about the disciple behind them: “What about him?” (v. 21). Jesus replied, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you?” Then He said, “You must follow me” (v. 22).

How often we’re like Peter! We wonder about the faith journeys of others and not what God is doing with us. Late in his life, when the death Jesus foretold in John 21 was much closer, Peter elaborated on Jesus’ simple command: “As obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do” (1 Peter 1:14–15). That’s enough to keep each of us focused on Jesus and not on those around us.