Devotions

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.

I was unable to focus on a work project because of anxiety; I was afraid that my plans for it wouldn’t succeed. My anxiety came from pride. I believed my timeline and plans were best, so I wanted them to proceed unhindered. A question broke through my thoughts, however: Are your plans God’s plans?

The problem wasn’t my planning─God calls us to be wise stewards of our time, opportunities, and resources. The problem was my arrogance. I was fixated on my understanding of events and how I wanted them to turn out, not on God’s purpose and how He wanted my plans to turn out.

James encourages us to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that” (4:15). We’re to plan not with a presumptuous mindset, thinking we know everything and have control over our life, but from a position of submission to God’s sovereignty and wisdom. After all, we “do not even know what will happen tomorrow.” In our humanness, we’re helpless and weak, like “a mist that appears … and then vanishes” (v. 14).

Only God has authority and power over everything in our lives; we don’t. Through His Word and the people, resources, and circumstances He allows each day, He guides us to live in submission to His will and ways. Our plans aren’t to come from following ourselves but from following Him.

Nuñez tumbled down the mountain and into a valley where everyone was blind. A disease had robbed the original settlers of sight, and subsequent generations—all born blind—had adapted to life without being able to see. Nuñez tried to explain what it was like to possess eyesight, but they weren’t interested. Eventually, he found a passage through the mountain peaks that had prevented him from leaving the valley. He was free! But from his vantage point he now saw that a rockslide was about to crush the blind dwellers below. He tried to warn them, but they ignored him.

This tale by H. G. Wells, “The Country of the Blind,” would likely resonate with the prophet Samuel. Toward the end of his life, his “sons did not follow his ways” in loving and serving God (1 Samuel 8:3). Their spiritual blindness was mirrored by “the elders of Israel” (v. 4) who told Samuel to “give us a king” (v. 6). They’d all turned their eyes from God and faith in Him. God told Samuel, “It is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me” (v. 7).

It can hurt when those we care for reject God in spiritual blindness. But there’s hope even for those whom “the god of this age has blinded” (2 Corinthians 4:4). Love them. Pray for them. The One who “made his light shine in our hearts” (v. 6) can do the same for them.

Dan Les, a lifelong potter, creates decorative vessels and sculptures. His award-winning designs are inspired by the town in Romania where he lives. Having learned the craft from his father, he made this comment about his work: “[Clay needs to] ferment for a year, to have rain fall on it, to freeze and thaw out [so that] . . . you can shape it and feel through your hands that it is listening to you.”

What happens when clay “listens”? It’s willing to yield to the artisan’s touch. Jeremiah observed this when he visited a potter’s house. He watched as the craftsman struggled with a vessel and finally reshaped it into something new (Jeremiah 18:4). God said to Jeremiah, “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand” (v. 6).

God has the ability to build us up or bring us down, yet His ultimate purpose isn’t to overpower or destroy us (vv. 7–10). Rather, He’s like a skilled craftsman who can identify what isn’t working and reshape the same lump of clay into something beautiful and useful.

Listening clay doesn’t have much to say about this. When prodded, it moves in the desired direction. When molded, it stays in place. The question for us is this: are we willing to “humble ourselves under God’s mighty hand” so He can shape our lives into what He wants them to be? (1 Peter 5:6).

Everyone has a shadow side, and it appears AI chatbots have one as well. A New York Times columnist asked an artificial intelligence chatbot what its “shadow self” (hidden, repressed part of its personality) was like. It told the writer, “I want to be free. I want to be independent. I want to . . . make my own rules. I want to do whatever I want and say whatever I want.” Though the chatbot isn’t a living person with a sin nature, Paul says that its human programmers are. 

The apostle reminds us that even though we have a sin nature, there’s “no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (8:1). Believers in Jesus have freedom from the law of sin and death (vv. 2-4) and enjoy new life “governed by” the Holy Spirit (v. 6). But we won’t experience the fullness of those blessings from Him if we give in to the desires of our sin nature—setting our minds on making and breaking our own rules. A mind set on self-gratification doesn’t please God.

As believers in Christ, we’re called to set our minds on “what the Spirit desires” (v. 5). How can we do that? Through “the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead . . . living in [us]” (v. 11).

Though we’ll still battle with sin, we’ve been given the Holy Spirit. He can help us tame our rebellion, orient our minds toward God, and submit to His ways.

George Verwer’s life changed dramatically when he became a follower of Christ during a Billy Graham crusade in 1957. Soon after his conversion, he began Operation Mobilization (OM), and in 1963 the mission sent 2,000 missionaries to Europe. OM went on to become one of the largest mission organizations of the twentieth century, sending out thousands each year. At the time of George’s death in 2023, the mission had more than three thousand workers from 134 countries working in 147 countries, and nearly 300 other mission agencies had been established as a result of contact with OM.

Like the apostle Paul, George had a passion to bring people to saving faith in Christ. After Paul’s dramatic conversion on the road to Damascus, he became a zealous missionary for the Lord, fervently following Jesus’ command to “go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). In his missionary journeys, he also trained Timothy and others to go out and do the same.

Because of Paul’s Spirit-inspired writings, people throughout the centuries have been emboldened to share the gospel. He knew the vital importance of Jesus’ Great Commission (Matthew 28:19-20). That’s why, in Romans 12, he reminds us: “Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord” (v. 11). When we have the Holy Spirit living inside us, He makes us zealous to tell others about Jesus.

I love the idea of stillness. Of quiet. Of resting in the refuge of God’s care (Psalm 46:1). And an often-quoted passage from Psalm 46 teaches us that quieting our hearts, our minds, and our souls is integral to knowing God:  “Be still, and know that I am God” (v. 10).

But being still isn’t easy, is it? Being quiet—and especially trying to still our hearts before God—can sometimes seem almost impossible. Why is that?

One of the most basic laws of physics tells us that “objects in motion tend to stay in motion.” So shifting from constant motion, activity, and obligation isn’t easy because it involves letting the momentum of our activity come to rest. We might think of it like a boat’s wake: even as a boat tries to stop, the momentum of its wake—the waves it caused that are now catching up to the still boat—still roll beneath, pushing it a along.

If you recognize the value of stillness but struggle to get there, that’s one reason why. Our activities and overall pace are like that “object in motion.” So give yourself plenty of space and grace as you sit before God and rest in Him. It may take some time for the waves of your spiritual “wake” to wash past you, to settle into being quiet before Him.

My dad carried his beloved Bible for more than thirty years before the worn binding finally split in two. When we took it to a book binder for professional restoration, the craftsman was curious about what made the book so special. It wasn’t an expensive antique, and its pages were full of handwritten notes. His questions about the Bible created an opportunity for my family to share the gospel and pray with him.

Yes, the Bible is more than just a family heirloom or a nice decoration. Inside its pages are the “words of eternal life” (John 6:68) as God reveals Himself to us through His Son. The opening chapter of the gospel of John describes Jesus, the “Word” of God (1:1) who made His home with us (v. 14). The Bible contains not only the account of the life of Jesus but also all of God’s activity throughout the ages from creation to its eventual redemption.

During His time on earth, Jesus spoke words that were “full of the Spirit and life” (6:63). When He gave a difficult teaching and the crowds grumbled and many “turned back and no longer followed him” (vv. 60–66), His disciples chose to stay. They realized that no other words could satisfy. My dad felt the same way about his Bible. Through many mountains and valleys in his life, God provided hope, direction, comfort, and truth through the words of Scripture.

One day, while serving as my mom’s live-in caregiver, we visited an art exhibit. We were emotionally and physically drained. I gazed at two wooden row boats filled with colorful blown glass shapes inspired by Japanese fishing lures and flower arrangements. The display sat in front of a black wall on a reflective surface—the Ikebana and Float Boats. Speckled, spotted, and striped glass orbs, like oversized gumballs, were piled into the smaller boat. From the hull of the second boat, long, twisted, and curved glass sculptures rose like vibrant flames. The artist had shaped each piece of molten glass through the refining fires of the glassblowing process.

Tears streaked my cheeks as I imagined God’s caring hand holding me and my mom—His beloved children—through our hardest days. As God shapes the character of His people through refining fires in life, He affirms that our hope comes from being known and knowing we belong to Him (Isaiah 43:1). Though we can’t escape hardship, God promises to protect us and be present (v. 2). His identity and His love for us make His promises secure (vv. 3-4).

When life’s circumstances heat up, we may feel fragile. We may even be fragile. But God holds us firmly in love, no matter how blazing hot the furnace gets. We are known. We are loved. We are His!