They were three adrenaline-fueled teenage boys, unleashed in the immense underground system connecting to Mammoth Cave. With them was their Uncle Frank, a veteran caver familiar with these parts. He knew the drop-offs and danger spots and continually called to the three, “Guys, this way!” Still, they ventured ever farther from him.

Dimming his headlamp, Uncle Frank decided to remain silent. Soon, the boys realized they’d lost their guide. Panic-stricken, they yelled his name. No response. Finally, they saw his headlamp flicker to life in the distance. Instant relief and peace! Now they were ready to follow their guide.

This true story makes an apt parable for how we can treat the gift of the Holy Spirit. Detours lure us away from the voice that calls us to follow the One who said, “Follow me” (Matthew 16:24). That voice is the Holy Spirit, who dwells inside each child of God (Acts 2:38–39).

God’s Spirit will never abandon us, but we can ignore Him. The apostle Paul warns, “Do not quench the Spirit” (1 Thessalonians 5:19). Instead, “Rejoice always, pray continually,” and “give thanks in all circumstances” (vv. 16–18). By doing so, we stay close to our guide, “the God of peace,” who can keep us “blameless” (v. 23). It’s not our work that does it. It’s His. As Paul reminds us, “The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it” (v. 24).

The situation looked hopeless for Amy and Alan’s infant daughter Jem. Born with a condition called trisomy-18, she was expected to die within days or weeks. “There’s no point in treating her,” the doctor said coldly. But her mother said, “I have bigger dreams for her.” They took Jem home and loved her. And they prayed.

Six years later, Jem needed surgery to remove a large tumor that had been found. Then—the same doctor walked in. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, “but I’m asking you for a second chance.” He admitted he’d been wrong about Jem. “I’d like a chance at redemption,” he said. Amy and Alan might have said no. But they understood the power of God’s forgiveness.

The Old Testament prophets often carried a message of God’s judgment. But woven throughout that message is the irrepressible theme of God’s love, forgiveness, and redemption. Isaiah pointed out Judah’s sins (44:6-20) but suddenly shifted focus. Speaking God’s words, he said, “Return to me, for I have redeemed you” (v. 22). God’s character wouldn’t permit Him to abandon His people. “I have made you,” He said, “I will not forget you” (v. 21). The conclusion: “Sing for joy, you heavens, for the Lord has done this . . . the Lord has redeemed Jacob” (v. 23).

Jem’s surgery found no tumor. “A miracle!” said the doctor. The power of prayer. The power of our redeeming God.

Read: Psalm 144:1-2, 9-15 | Bible in a Year: 1 Chronicles 28-29; John 9:24-41 I will sing a new song to you, my God. Psalm 144:9 Sabin Howard’s remarkable sculpture A Soldier’s Journey breathes with vitality and anguish. Thirty-eight bronze figures lean forward across a fifty-eight-foot bas-relief that traces the life of a World War […]

“I really didn’t like Mother’s Day,” said Donna, a mom of three. “It brought back to me all the inadequacies and failures I felt and feel as a mother.”

Donna started her parenting life with high expectations. Reality lowered the bar. “Being a mother was really the hardest thing I ever did,” she said. And one particular child “pushed every button I had.”

When God chose Leah to be a matriarch of Israel, no doubt she had high expectations for each of her children. She gave her first four sons names with relevance to her difficult situation (Genesis 29:32–35). Yet when it comes to dark stories in the Bible, these sons have starring roles as the bad guys. They were guilty of murder (34:24-30) and of selling their half-brother Joseph into slavery (37:17-28). Leah’s son Judah is the villain in one of the uglier accounts in Scripture (ch. 38).

How like God to bring the Messiah through Leah’s descendants—including Judah. In the most difficult circumstances and through the most unexpected people, God works redemption.

Donna learned this too. As she faced all her parenting challenges, she never found an answer “except to keep going and keep praying.” And that kid who pushed all her buttons? He’s grown now, and he loves and respects his mom. Looking back, Donna says, “Perhaps he was sent to me to teach me something about myself and something about my God.”

Lee didn’t believe in God, and he didn’t believe in the resurrection of Jesus. But Lee was a journalist with an analytical mind. When his wife believed in Jesus, he decided to study her new faith for himself. After two years of research, he gave in—to God, to the resurrection, to faith in Christ.

The change in him was noticeable. After a few months, his five-year-old daughter said to his wife, “Mommy, I want God to do for me what he’s done for Daddy.” And the daughter of Lee Strobel put her faith in Jesus too.

Many people refuse to believe in the resurrection. But reputable eyewitnesses saw the risen Jesus. One of those eyewitnesses, the disciple Peter, told a large crowd that King David was certainly dead and buried (Acts 2:29). Then Peter pointed to a prophecy David had made. “[David] spoke of the resurrection of the Messiah,” he said (v. 31). Peter concluded, “God has raised this Jesus to life, and we are all witnesses of it” (v. 32).

The best evidence for the resurrection is the changed lives of the eyewitnesses, including Peter. At the crucifixion, the disciples had gone into hiding. Peter actually denied Christ (John 18:15-17; 25-27). Once they saw Jesus alive, everything changed. Filled with courage, they began to share the truth of the one great hope of the world—the risen Christ.

“I have the right to be happy,” said a teenager as she spoke before a legislature. Yet she could have been anyone anywhere, speaking for everybody. It’s our human cry. One self-help guru even said, “God wants you to be happy.”

Is that true? It’s not wrong to pursue happiness. That desirable state of mind, however, ebbs and flows with our moment-by-moment circumstances, and the fulfillment of one person’s desires can crush the happiness of another.

Jesus points us to something better. He knew He was about to be nailed to a Roman cross where He would bear the weight of the world’s sin. Yet His concern was for His disciples. He told them, “You will weep and mourn while the world rejoices.” But He also said, “Your grief will turn to joy” (John 16:20). Then He promised, “No one will take away your joy” (v. 22).

This kind of joy is more than a good feeling based on desirable things happening to us. It grows out of doing the will of our Father in heaven. Jesus also said, “Seek first [God’s] kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matthew 6:33).

Happiness can slip away with the next unpleasant circumstance. The joy that comes from following Jesus can thrive despite those circumstances.

Hunched over a manual typewriter, Itzhak Stern worked through the night, tapping out names—1,098 in all. The names comprised a list of Jewish workers protected from the Nazis by factory owner Oskar Schindler. Clutching the document, Stern declared, “The list is an absolute good. The list is life.” Those named on its pages would survive the Holocaust. In 2012, it was estimated that the descendants of the survivors numbered 8,500.

The Bible contains its share of lists. We tend to skip them. Too many names; too much repetition. We might even say today’s reading is . . . boring. “The descendants of Judah by their clans were: through Shelah, the Shelanite clan; through Perez, the Perezite clan . . .” (Numbers 26:20). Who cares?

God cares! “These were the Israelites who came out of Egypt,” says the historical record (v. 4). Soon the people would inhabit the land promised to them. And one day, Messiah would come from this very clan of Judah. The list is life, not only for the Jewish people but for all who trust in Jesus.

We know of Oskar Schindler’s list from the powerful film Schindler’s List and historical records. We know of God’s great salvation from the story recorded for us in the Bible. As we read, may His Spirit show us the worth of even the lists. They have something to say to us too.

Following the South’s catastrophic loss at Gettysburg in the American Civil War (1863), General Robert E. Lee led his battered troops back to southern territory. Heavy rains flooded the Potomac River, blocking his retreat. President Abraham Lincoln urged General George Meade to attack. But Meade’s men were just as weary as Lee’s. He rested his troops.

Lincoln picked up his quill and wrote a letter in which he confessed he was “distressed immeasurably” at Meade’s reluctance to pursue Lee. On the envelope are these words in the president’s handwriting: “To Gen. Meade, never sent, or signed.” And indeed, it never was.  

Long before Lincoln, another great leader grasped the importance of reining in our emotions. Anger, no matter how justified, is a dangerously powerful force. “Do you see someone who speaks in haste?” King Solomon asked. “There is more hope for a fool than for them” (Proverbs 29:20). Solomon knew that “by justice a king gives a country stability” (v. 4). He also understood that “fools give full vent to their rage, but the wise bring calm in the end” (v. 11).

And in the end, not sending that letter prevented Lincoln from demoralizing his top general, helped win a necessary war, and contributed to the healing of a nation. We do well to learn from examples like his of wise restraint.

To improve her sign language skills, Leisa immersed herself in the world of the Deaf. Soon she learned the problems they face. The Deaf are awkwardly ignored by hearing people, are expected to lipread flawlessly, and are routinely passed over for promotions at work. Most public events go uninterpreted.

Leisa’s signing steadily improved to the point where she felt at home with the Deaf. At a party, a Deaf person was surprised to learn Leisa could hear. Before Leisa could respond, another friend signed, “She has a Deaf heart.” The key had been Leisa’s willingness to live in their world.

Leisa didn’t “condescend” to be with the Deaf. Except for her hearing, she was like them. But Jesus did stoop to reach all of us—to live in our world. He “was made lower than the angels for a little while” (Hebrews 2:9). Christ “shared in [our] humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death.” In doing so, He freed “those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death” (vv. 14–15). More than that, He was “fully human in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God” (v. 17).

Whatever we face, Jesus knows and understands. He hears our heart. He’s with us in every way.

Photographer Ronn Murray likes cold weather. Very cold weather. “Cold means clear skies,” notes journalist Lee Cowan in a TV interview with Murray. “And that can open a window to the wonderful!”

Ronn and his wife, Marketa, provide Alaskan photography tours dedicated to tracking Earth’s most spectacular light show—aurora borealis (the northern lights). Murray speaks of the experience as “very spiritual.” If you’ve ever seen this iridescent display dance across the heavens, you’ll understand why.

But the lights aren’t only a northern phenomenon. Aurora australis, nearly identical to borealis, occurs simultaneously in the south. That’s because they’re the same kind of lights.

In the disciple John’s telling of the Christmas story, he skips the stable and shepherds and goes directly to the One who “brought light to everyone” (John 1:4 nlt). When John later writes of a heavenly city, he describes the source of its light. This “city has no need of sun or moon, for the glory of God illuminates the city, and the Lamb is its light” (Revelation 21:23 NLT). This light source is Jesus—the same source referenced in John 1. And for those who inhabit this future dwelling, “There will be no night there—no need for lamps or sun—for the Lord God will shine on them” (22:5 nlt).

As our lives reflect this light of the world—the One who created aurora borealis and australis—we open a window to the truly wonderful.