Our Daily Bread Devotional

After the devastation of Hurricane Katrina in 2005, New Orleans worked to slowly rebuild. One of the most hard-hit areas was the Lower Ninth Ward, where for years after Katrina, residents lacked access to basic resources. Burnell Cotlon worked to change that. In November 2014, he opened the first grocery store in the Lower Ninth Ward after Katrina. “When I bought the building, everybody thought that I was crazy,” Cotlon recalled. But “the very first customer cried cuz she . . . never thought the [neighborhood] was coming back.” His mother said her son “saw something I didn’t see. I’m glad [he] . . . took that chance.”

God enabled the prophet Isaiah to see an unexpected future of hope in the face of devastation. Seeing “the poor and needy search for water, but there is none” (Isaiah 41:17), God promised to “turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs” (v. 18). When instead of hunger and thirst, His people experienced flourishing once more, they would know “the hand of the Lord has done this” (v. 20).

He’s still the author of restoration, at work bringing about a future when “creation itself will be liberated from its bondage” (Romans 8:21). As we trust in His goodness, He helps us see a future where hope is possible.

More than two hundred million people from a variety of faiths undertake a pilgrimage each year. For many throughout the ages, a pilgrim’s task has been to journey to a sacred place to receive some kind of blessing. It’s been all about reaching the temple, cathedral, shrine, or other destination where a blessing can be received.

Britain’s Celtic Christians, however, saw pilgrimage differently. They set out directionless into the wild or let their boats drift wherever the oceans took them—pilgrimage for them being about trusting God in unfamiliar territory. Any blessing was found not at the destination but along the journey.

Hebrews 11 was an important passage for the Celts. Since the life in Christ is about leaving the world’s ways behind and trekking like foreigners to the city of God (vv. 13-16), a pilgrimage echoed their life’s journey. By trusting God to provide along their difficult, untrodden path, the pilgrim grew the kind of faith lived by the heroes of old (vv. 1-12).

What a lesson to learn, whether we physically trek or not: for those who have trusted Jesus, life is a pilgrimage to God’s heavenly country, full of dark forests, dead ends, and trials. As we journey through, may we not miss the blessing of experiencing God’s provision along the way.

Years before Zoom was an accessible communication tool, a friend asked me to join her on a video call to discuss a project. Through the tone of my emails, she could tell I was baffled, so she suggested I find a teenager to help me figure out how to set up a video call.

Her suggestion points to the value of intergenerational relationships. It’s something observed in Ruth and Naomi’s story. Ruth is often celebrated for being a loyal daughter-in-law, deciding to leave her land to accompany Naomi back to Bethlehem (Ruth 1:16-17). When they arrived in the town, the younger woman said to Naomi, “Let me go to the fields and pick up the leftover grain [for us]” (2:2). She helped the older woman, who then helped the younger woman marry Boaz. Naomi’s advice for Ruth prompted Boaz to take action in purchasing her deceased in-laws’ property and to take her “as [his] wife” (4:9-10).

We certainly respect the advice of those who share their seasoned wisdom with younger generations. But Ruth and Naomi remind us that the exchange can go both ways. There’s something to be learned from those younger than us as well as those who are older. Let’s seek to develop loving and loyal intergenerational relationships. It will bless us and others and help us learn something we don’t know.

They didn’t think Jørn, a tenant farming the land, would amount to much. Yet despite his weak vision and other physical limitations, he poured himself out for those in his village in Norway, praying the many nights when his pain kept him awake. In prayer he’d move from house to house, naming each person individually, even the children he hadn’t yet met. People loved his gentle spirit and would seek his wisdom and advice. If he couldn’t help them practically, they’d still feel blessed when they left, having received his love. And when Jørn died, his funeral was the biggest ever in that community, even though he had no family there. His prayers blossomed and brought forth fruit beyond what he could have imagined.

This humble man followed in the example of the apostle Paul, who loved those he served and prayed for them while confined. He wrote to those in Ephesus while he was likely imprisoned in Rome, praying that God would give them “the Spirit of wisdom and revelation” and that the eyes of their hearts would be “enlightened” (Ephesians 1:17–18). He yearned that they would know Jesus and live with love and unity through the power of the Spirit.

Jørn and the apostle Paul poured themselves out to God, committing those they loved and served to Him in prayer. May we consider their examples in how we love and serve others today.

A phobia is defined as the “irrational fear” of certain things or situations. Arachnophobia is a fear of spiders (though some might argue that’s a perfectly rational thing to be afraid of!). Then there’s globophobia and xocolatophobia. These and some four hundred other phobias are real and documented. It seems we can become afraid of most anything.

The Bible tells of the Israelites’ fear after receiving the Ten Commandments: “When the people saw the thunder and lightning . . . they trembled with fear” (Exodus 20:18). Moses comforted them, offering this most interesting statement: “Do not be afraid. God has come to test you, so that the fear of God will be with you” (v. 20). Moses seems to contradict himself: “Don’t be afraid but be afraid.” In fact, the Hebrew word for “fear” contains at least two meanings—a trembling terror of something or a reverent awe of God.

We may laugh to learn that globophobia is the fear of balloons and xocolatophobia is a fear of chocolate. The more serious bottom line about phobias is that we can be afraid of all kinds of things. Fears creep into our lives like spiders, and the world can be a scary place. As we struggle with phobias and fears, we do well to be reminded that our God is an awesome God, offering us His present comfort in the midst of darkness.

After seven decades of hard work as a washerwoman—scrubbing, drying, and pressing clothes by hand—Oseola McCarty was finally ready to retire at the age of eighty-six. She had scrupulously saved her meager earnings all those years, and to the amazement of her community, Oseola donated $150,000 to the nearby university to create a scholarship fund for needy students. Inspired by her selfless gift, hundreds of people donated enough to triple her endowment.

Oseola understood the true value of her wealth was not in using it for her own gain, but to bless others. The apostle Paul exhorted Timothy to command those who are rich in this present world “to be rich in good deeds” (1 Timothy 6:18). Each of us has been given wealth to steward, whether it’s in the form of financial means or other resources. Instead of trusting in our resources, Paul cautions us to put our hope only in God (v. 17) and to lay up treasure in heaven by being “generous and willing to share” (v. 18).

In God’s economy, withholding and not being generous only leads to emptiness. Giving to others out of love is the way to fulfillment. To have both godliness and contentment with what we have, instead of striving for more, is great gain (v. 6). What would it look like for us to be generous with our resources, as Oseola was? Let us strive to be rich in good deeds today as God leads us.

When Britain’s House of Commons was bombed in World War II, Prime Minister Winston Churchill told Parliament they must rebuild it according to its original design. It must be small, so debates would remain face-to-face. It must be oblong rather than semicircular, allowing politicians to “move around the center.” This preserved Britain’s party system, where Left and Right faced each other across the room, requiring careful thought before switching sides. Churchill concluded, “We shape our buildings and afterwards our buildings shape us.”

God seems to agree. Seven chapters in Exodus (chs. 25-31) give instructions on building the tabernacle, and six more (chs. 35-40) describe how Israel did it. God cared about their worship. When the people entered the courtyard, the gleaming gold and the tabernacle’s colorful curtains (26:1, 31-37) dazzled them. The altar of burnt offering (27:1-8) and water basin (30:17-21) reminded them of the cost of their forgiveness. The tabernacle contained a lampstand (25:31-40), bread table (25:23-30), altar of incense (30:1-6), and ark of the covenant (25:10-22). Each item held great significance.

God doesn’t give us detailed instructions for our worship space as He did with Israel, yet our worship is no less vital. Our very being is to be a tabernacle set apart for Him to dwell in. May everything we do remind us of who He is and what He does.

James Morris was once described as “an illiterate but warmhearted layman,” but God used him to draw Augustus Toplady to saving faith in Jesus Christ. Toplady, the eighteenth-century author of the timeless hymn “Rock of Ages,” described hearing Morris preach: “Strange that I . . . should be brought nigh unto God . . . amidst a handful of God’s people met together in a barn, and under the ministry of one who could hardly spell his name. Surely this is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous.”

Indeed, God does marvelous things in unlikely places and through those we may rank as “unqualified” or ordinary. In 1 Corinthians 1, Paul reminded believers in Jesus that they were an unimpressive lot. “Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth” (v. 26). Though the Corinthian believers were quite ordinary, by God’s grace they weren’t lacking in giftedness and usefulness (see v. 7). And God—who knows how to put boasters in their place (vv. 27-29)—was at work among them and through them.

Do you see yourself as “plain,” “ordinary,” or even “less than”? Don’t fret. If you have Jesus and are willing to be used by Him, you have enough. May your heart’s prayer be, “God, use me!”

For three years, apart from household necessities, Susan didn’t buy anything for herself. The Covid-19 pandemic affected my friend’s income, and she embraced a simple lifestyle. “One day, while cleaning my apartment, I noticed how shabby and faded my things looked,” she shared. “That’s when I started to miss having new things—the sense of freshness and excitement. My surroundings seemed tired and stale. I felt as if there was nothing to look forward to.”

Susan found encouragement in an unlikely book in the Bible. Written by Jeremiah after Jerusalem fell to Babylon, Lamentations describes the open wound of grief suffered by the prophet and the people. In the midst of grief’s despair, however, lies sure ground for hope─God’s love. “His compassions never fail,” Jeremiah wrote. “They are new every morning” (3:22-23).

Susan was reminded that God’s deep love relentlessly breaks through anew each day. When circumstances make us feel there’s no longer anything to look forward to, we can call to mind His faithfulness and look forward to how He’ll provide for us. We can confidently hope in God, knowing our hoping is never in vain (vv. 24-25) because it’s secured in His steadfast love and compassion.

“God’s love is my ‘something new’ each day,” Susan says. “I can look ahead with hope.”

President Abraham Lincoln had emancipated people held in slavery two-and-a half-years earlier and the Confederacy had surrendered, yet the state of Texas still hadn’t acknowledged the freedom of enslaved persons. However, on June 19, 1865, Union army general Gordon Granger rode into Galveston, Texas, and demanded that all enslaved persons be released. Imagine the shock and joy as shackles fell off and those in bondage heard the pronouncement of freedom.

God sees the oppressed, and He’ll ultimately announce freedom for those under the weight of injustice. This is true now just as it was true in Moses’ day. God appeared to him from a burning bush with an urgent message: “I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt” (Exodus 3:7). He not only saw Egypt’s brutality against Israel—but He also planned to do something about it. “I have come down to rescue them,” God declared, “and to bring them . . . into a good and spacious land” (v. 8). He intended to declare freedom to Israel, and Moses would be the mouthpiece. “I am sending you to Pharaoh,” God told His servant, “to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt” (v. 10).

Though God’s timing may not happen as quickly as we hope, one day He’ll free us from all bondage and injustice. He gives hope and liberation to all who are oppressed.