I often wake up too early, for no good reason. I’m still sleepy and don’t need to get up yet, but my mind instantly starts gnawing on my most recently discovered reason to worry, or it starts making lists of the day’s important tasks, or any number of thoughts that draw me reluctantly away from slumber. I drag myself out of bed just to stop thinking those thoughts and get on with doing something about them.
But some days I remember today’s verse. I used to have it written out on a small piece of paper and taped to my bathroom mirror because it’s such a wonderful thing to be reminded of in the morning. The paper got old and toothpaste-splashed so I threw it out when we moved. I should print it out again so it can be with me first thing every morning.
Trusting God and His faithful love is the best way to start my day, whether I get up and get busy or decide to crawl back in bed to finish sleeping, without those pesky worries nagging me awake.
Dear God,
Thank you for this beautiful reminder of how your faithful love is all I need every morning. Forgive me for fretting about things that ultimately don’t matter. Guide me throughout my day and redirect my focus toward your goals and priorities instead of mine. Fill me with your peace.
I used to go to our town’s municipal swimming pool every day during the hot Wisconsin summers. My mom bought season passes for my sister and me and would drop us off each morning as soon as they opened. She was as disappointed as we were on days when thunderstorms threatened, and the pool was closed. My dad would pick us up when he got off work.
I loved swimming and hanging out with my friends at the pool. Looking back, I have no idea how I spent all those hours at the pool every afternoon. But I don’t ever recall being bored or wanting to leave.
I do remember having to work up my nerve to use the diving boards though. Years went by before I tried for the first time. There were three boards: low, middle, and high. The low board was easy enough once I got the hang of it. The middle board wasn’t that much of a challenge, and the big kids made it look so fun that I eventually got comfortable with it, bouncing fairly high before diving in (or more likely, cannonballing.)
The high dive was something altogether different. There was always a line of kids going up the ladder waiting. If you got to the top and were too scared, it was a big deal to make all those kids climb down to let you off. Plenty of jeers and boos and taunts.
I remember the first time I risked testing out the high dive. My heart raced as I climbed the ladder, higher and higher, the wet bum of the kid in front of me dripping in my face. I’m not scared of heights, but when I got to the top, it felt like I was on top of a skyscraper. All the children below me looked so small. The board seemed impossibly long and narrow, and the hand rails didn’t go all the way out there.
I breathed deeply. I stepped away from the hand rails slowly. The kids behind me groaned. I decided I couldn’t do it and moved to turn back, but the expression on the next kid’s face stopped me.
I wobbled out to the very end of the board, terrified. I thought of all the things that could go wrong. But then I remembered all the kids I’d seen dive off without a thought. I decided I had to step off (the idea of actually diving made me swoon) without thinking about it anymore. My feet would have to do it by themselves without me knowing about it. So I stood there, watching some kid who was getting yelled at for running, and suddenly my feet stepped off the end of the board.
I was surprised.
And I was in midair. Weightless — such a crazy feeling — for the briefest of moments. And then I hit the water.
(I’m glad that first time I landed feet first because if I had landed any other way I may never have done it again. Water is hard!)
But when I went into the water, everything was OK. I was safe. Nothing horrible happened. I swam up to the surface and got out. Life at the pool went on.
I think partly, this is what Jesus is talking about in today’s verse. Giving is scary. It’s easy to think about the things that can go wrong or other ways that I could use that money. But He insists that I will be OK. If I trust Him with my money, He will bless me and take care of me.
So, I just do it. I let my feet step off without thinking or making a big deal. I let my right hand write the check while my left hand is busy with something else. It’s the best way. And everything will be OK.
Dear God,
Thank you for your promise to bless me and care for me when I trust you with my possessions and my money. They are yours. Thank you for letting me make use of them. Help me to remember to be generous with all that I have and to do it quickly, simply, and quietly, with prayer but without fanfare.
When I was in college, I had a roommate for a short time who was Jewish. We got along great, and I really enjoyed her company. She was a wonderful, fun, generous, and kind person that I admired. We talked about many things, including our religious beliefs, and how she and I believed in the same God, technically. And that God, the one I read about in my Bible, was one of incredible love.
At that time I remember thinking that such a loving God wouldn’t condemn such a nice person, a person who put their faith in Him. Would He? I decided there must be a special exception for Jewish people. They are God’s chosen people after all.
But that’s not what the Bible says. God’s standards are very high — they require perfection in fact. He gave His people the Law and told them that they would be saved if they obeyed it.
They didn’t. I haven’t. Neither had my roommate. No one has or ever will be able to obey God’s Law completely throughout their entire life.
Except Jesus.
He obeyed perfectly for me. He is the exception that God provided. And only through Him can I meet God’s standard for perfection.
Since my roommate did not accept this generous gift her God had provided, her own sin would make her unacceptable for eternal life with God.
Salvation isn’t about being good. It’s not about being nice or kind or believing there is a God or even claiming to be a “Christian.” According to today’s verse, salvation is only available because of Jesus making it available. Because of His death in my place, I can live. And so can anyone else.
Dear God,
This is a hard teaching because I can’t see things the way you do. Your standards of good are very different from mine. They are impossibly high. Thank you so much for providing such a simple way to meet your impossibly high standards in Jesus. Thank you for reminding me how important it is to encourage others with this Good News of Jesus and how being “good” just isn’t enough.
When gathering with friends and family, we are told not to bring up either politics or religion; that is, if we would like to enjoy a peaceful visit.
There are a whole lot of reasons not to talk about my religious beliefs.
On one hand, Christians have earned the reputation of being awful. Judgmental, hypocritical, mean-spirited, closed-minded, even hateful. This breaks my heart. I don’t want to be associated with that. So I’m reluctant to claim “Christianity” for myself.
On the other hand, the story of Jesus seems ridiculous. To a nonbeliever I can see how it would sound complicated and confusing. God has a son? He turned him into a human and then had him killed? What for? Then brought him back to life? How does that help me?
It’s challenging to admit to believing that without having a much longer, deeper conversation.
Today’s verse encourages me to ignore all those reasons not to talk about Jesus. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.
Jesus says if I’m ashamed of Him, He’ll be ashamed of me on judgement day. (Luke 9:26) I don’t want that.
So despite what other people may assume about me when I mention Jesus — that I’m hateful or just a fool — God insists that I lovingly share His Good News, the Gospel of Jesus:
God loves you so much that He sent His son, Jesus, to die in your place. And then He defeated death entirely so if you accept this gift and believe in Him by faith, you can have eternal life.
Dear God,
Thank you so much for the sacrifice you made to save me from my poor choices and from death that is forever. Thank you for offering life forever instead. I’m sorry for being afraid to talk about you, for caring more about what people think of me than what you think of me. Please forgive me. Show me when and how I should be bringing your name into my conversations to be most effective and give me the courage to do it.
As a young Christian in high school I struggled over how to know God’s will for me. When someone asked me out, I asked God what I should do. I didn’t hear Him say yes or no, so I got frustrated. When opportunities arose to get a part-time job or join a certain team or club or go on a study-abroad program, God was equally silent. When it came time to decide where to go to college, still no guidance from God.
I read in the Bible about all the times God spoke directly to people, and I was envious. When Gideon asked God for a sign to verify God’s call, God obliged by making Gideon’s fleece dewy while the rest of the ground around it remained dry. And a second time, when Gideon was still unconvinced, God kept the fleece dry while the ground was covered in dew.
I never got any signs like that.
To this day there are still decisions I wish God would weigh in on.
On the other hand, I never got any unusual or challenging commands from God either. He never came to me in a dream and told me I would be pregnant by the Holy Spirit or appeared in a burning bush asking me to lead a slave revolt.
So I have learned God’s relative silence means that I have freedom to choose. That’s not a bad thing. It’s a great gift, in fact. Plus, He assures me that I can’t mess up His plan for me no matter what choices I make, which is also good news.
Today’s verse reminds me that God isn’t entirely silent however. If I want to know God’s will for my life, I don’t need to look any father than this verse. God wants me to tell everyone about His love. As long as the other choices I make don’t impede this command, God allows me to choose whatever I want. There will still be consequences of my choices that I will need to live with, but that’s life.
Dear God,
Thank you so much for the marvelous freedom you have given me to run my life as I see fit, for the most part. Thank you for today’s reminder of the one clear command you have given me. Help me to keep it as a top priority in my life when evaluating how I spend my time and how I resolve the decisions that I need to make.
How many times a day do you say, “Oh my God”? How many times do you actually mean it? Do you ever mean it? My guess is no. Never.
When I say “oh my God” in conversation, I never actually intend to invoke God, the Creator of the universe and His righteous power. I am never even thinking about God when I say that. So I tried to stop saying it. But it still pops out sometimes. Shortening it to OMG doesn’t change anything. Neither does stopping at “oh my…” The “God” is implied.
Now this is not a huge deal. At least I don’t think so. It’s just a pattern of speech the means I’m surprised, right? Meaningless.
But God is God. I wonder if He gets aggravated by being part of that phrase. Is that “taking the Lord’s name in vain” which is actually one of the Ten Commandment no-nos?
It makes me think of the boy who cried wolf. How many times can I say “oh my God” before God stops listening? What if I really need God? If I really want His attention on my life and need His power, protection, love, help, comfort…?
If He were like me, He would start ignoring people’s cries when they clearly needed His help, just to teach them a lesson, or for spite.
Fortunately, God is not vindictive or petty like me. Today’s verse clarifies that. He promises that when I call on Him — with integrity — He will be near me. He doesn’t stop listening, no matter how careless I have been with my words.
Dear God,
I’m sorry for using your name in such a thoughtless and casual way that has nothing to do with you. Remind me to only use your name when I am talking about you or to you. Thank you for continuing to listen to me and for answering my cries to you when I am honestly seeking you. I need you and love your promise to be near me. Thank you!
We adopted a dog during the pandemic. A lot of people did, I guess. It happened to be really good timing for us as our previous dog had died a few years earlier and we were finally ready for someone new.
We got Rocky from the local Humane Society. He was about two years old and had been wandering alone in the desert, hungry enough to be eating rocks. (Hence his name, Rocky.) He was also scraped up as if he’d been attacked by other dogs, poor thing. He was in rough shape.
You never know what you’re going to get when you adopt a dog. Happily, Rocky has bounced back brilliantly from his rough start. He is a happy dog who loves going for walks and playing in our backyard — once we taught him how to do those things. He’s a gentle soul who loves to snuggle. He’s gotten over a lot of anxiety that he had around strange places and loud noises. He still has some anxiety but has safe places in our house he can comfortably sequester.
We were really fortunate that although Rocky has some anxiety, being left alone does not seem to contribute to his fears. He does not suffer from separation anxiety which many dogs, pack animals by nature, do.
Humans suffer separation anxiety too. Prolonged solitary confinement is considered torture. Nelson Mandela described solitary confinement as “the most forbidding aspect of prison life.” The United Nations forbids solitary confinement longer than 15 days.
That is why today’s verse is so comforting. God promises that I never have to be totally alone. He is always with me, ready to provide strength, encouragement, protection, guidance, comfort… whatever I might need. There is no place I can go where God can’t find me. I can be trapped at the bottom of a deep well or lost in an underground cavern, and God is there with the light of His love. I can be on a stage in front of thousands expected to speak or perform, and God is there with His peace. I can travel to a jungle or a mountaintop or a desert or a different planet, and God will be there before I arrive, waiting for me with the same joy and majesty that I know when I meet Him at home.
Dear God,
Thank you for the beautiful, miraculous gift of your presence. I’m so relieved that you are everywhere. I never have to be afraid to go anywhere because you are always there first, preparing the way for me when I trust you.
If God created everything, that means He created me. He didn’t just set some evolutionary top spinning and wait to see what surprising creatures popped up. He thoughtfully designed and built me from zygote up.
Don’t get me wrong, I do believe in evolution. But I also believe God lovingly crafted everything that exists, including evolution. Evolution is simply one of His many tools for creating, like a weaver uses a loom.
God created me and numbered every hair on my head. He also created each ant’s antennae and every hummingbird’s long tongue. He created the earth’s molten core and the shifting tectonic plates. He created some planet somewhere that we haven’t discovered that maybe has life on it. Who knows? Well, God does.
The fact that this unknowable being that has such reach, wisdom, power, and joy in creating bothered to make me blows my mind. It’s incredible, and yet the Bible says (many times) that this is true.
Not only did God create me, but He cares about the minutiae of my life well after He finished creating me. Isn’t He busy with more important things? Yes, but God has unlimited capacity. Somehow. Way beyond my ability to comprehend.
All I can do is join the heavenly chorus singing today’s verse of praise to this Almighty Creator.
Dear God,
My mind boggles at all you have done and can do. And even more so at the notion that you created me, care about me, notice me, love me, want to hear from me. Thank you so much for this assurance of your love. You are indeed worthy of all the praise and honor that I can give and then some.
It’s a big question. I have asked it many times. And about big things in my life. Why did my younger sister die of cancer? Why did my younger brother’s kidneys fail? Why was I diagnosed with multiple sclerosis?
I usually turn to God with my why questions, almost always in an accusatory way. “God, why did you do this?!” Or “God, why did you let this happen?!”
As I think about the questions I have asked God, I see how unfair they are. Why am I only blaming God and demanding answers for the awful things in my life? I haven’t asked, “God, why did you bless me with three wonderful siblings and parents who loved me enough to teach me about you?” Or “God, why have you given me such a beautiful, comfortable home?” Or “God, why did you make this flowering tree whose fragrance I enjoy every time I walk out my front door?”
If I’m going to blame Him for the bad stuff, it’s only fair to blame Him for the good stuff too.
The thing is, as today’s verse says, God is really only to blame for the good stuff. All the good stuff. Everything good.
The surrounding verses explain that the bad stuff comes from a combination of satanic wheedling and our own selfish desires and choices and failures, as individuals and as a society.
And God “allows” these bad things because He committed to giving us free will long ago. Freedom to listen to satan and freedom to choose unhealthy, evil, dangerous, treacherous things.
I can’t have freedom without the freedom to discover the consequences of my choices. So even the bad things in my life are the result of God’s true freedom-giving love for me. He hates the pain we continue to unleash upon ourselves, and one day He will redeem it all, but His offer of freedom to live as we choose still stands.
Dear God,
Thank you so much for your perfect and generous goodness. I am so grateful for all you have done to bless me. Forgive me for only blaming you for the bad stuff when you really only deserve credit for the good. Thank you for giving your children freedom to choose. I’m so sorry we’ve chosen evil so often and made such a mess of things. Please come soon and wash the evil away forever with your beautiful love.
I’ve never been interested in marketing or sales. They do not mesh with my personality or skillset. I think to be great at sales, you have to be a lot more outgoing.
But if I really believe in my product, the sales pitch gets a lot easier. There have been a few products in my life that I have cheerfully and boisterously promoted because they improved my life or worked so cleverly.
God wants His people to be enthusiastic salespeople. He expects me to promote His product — love — cheerfully and boisterously. To be honest, God’s love has definitely made my life so much better.
It should be an easy sell. It can save your life. It can heal all your relationships. It can bring peace where there is strife. It can provide purpose and meaning. And it’s free!
God has a great marketing program. He created the universe — a beautiful brochure that everyone can see with a glance at a sunset or a hibiscus. The literature is readily available too.
So why aren’t I out there obeying today’s verse and selling, selling, selling? Do I believe in my product or not?
Dear God,
Please forgive my reticence when it comes to talking about your marvelous gift of love. Give me boldness to declare your glory and your wondrous works among all the people I encounter. Give me the right words at the right moments and the courage to promote you with humility and love. Thank you so much for loving me.
