I had to learn how to give. It didn’t come naturally. I was born selfish. Maybe partly because I didn’t have much to offer. I started out as a little ball of need. Gimme gimme gimme!
At some point, probably while tussling over a toy in the sandbox, someone told me to share. For a while that word became dreaded. Share?! But then one day, some other kid was told to share. With me. Wow! Such joy. I could play with a toy that I’d never seen before. Or have an extra snack. It was like my birthday. Or Christmas.
When I learned the joy of being shared with, I could start to experience the joy of sharing too. It’s really fun to see joy blossom on someone else’s face.
God is love. He is good. He is wise. And He wants all His children to be filled with joy. So He tells us to share. Not because He is mean and doesn’t want me to have nice things. On the contrary, He knows the joy that sharing my nice things (that He’s given me) will bring to the sharer, the sharee, the whole world.
Dear God,
Thank you for your love, your goodness, and your wisdom. Thank you for the joy of giving. I want to live in a world filled with sharing and joy. Thank you for blessing me with nice things so that I am able to share them with others. Forgive me for the times when I clutch them tightly instead. Remind me, gently, to share.
I remember a pastor told me years ago that God is not fair. I was dumbfounded because, as a child, fairness seemed like the pinnacle of what is right and good. Playing fair — by the established or somehow innately understood rules — was valued on the playground. Indignation and outrage was immediate and loud when someone in authority didn’t treat us kids fairly or enforce fairness amongst us. If Jimmy gets a piece of cake, I must get one too. And it better be exactly the same size. (Never mind that I was willing to let fairness slip when the inequity was in my favor.)
But God never promised fairness. Fairness isn’t love. It’s just fairness. If God were fair, He would have put an end to me long ago. I sin all the time. He will not tolerate sin, so if He were fair… Believe me, we don’t want God to be fair.
Today’s verse mentions the “varied grace of God.” Why is it varied? Because He’s not fair. His grace is not handed out in identical portions to all His children at exactly the same time and in exactly the same ways. Yes, we all receive salvation the same when we accept Jesus’s atoning sacrifice, but beyond that there are daily graces God distributes according to need.
I don’t need strength from God today to withstand the temptation to watch porn, but someone else does. God isn’t fair because He doesn’t meet me with that particular strength today. Thankfully He is ready to provide to someone else though.
I do need help today combatting feelings of despair and irritation. If I pray for His peace and forgiveness when I take out my anger on innocent bystanders, I will receive this grace, but another person not struggling with these problems won’t.
We are all so unique with weaknesses and strengths that are ours alone. And each day brings different opportunities and challenges to everyone. God made me and He made you. He knows each of us better than we know ourselves. And He knows exactly what each day brings. He knows it all. So He isn’t fair. He’s wise enough to know that His grace, while it’s more than enough for everyone, needs to be administered as needed and as requested.
I don’t want a fair God. I want a God who loves me and knows me and knows exactly what I need when I need it. We are so lucky to have such a God.
Dear God,
Thank you so much for not being fair! Thank you for your varied grace, according to my needs. I love that you know me so well, that you know where my struggles lie. Thank you for meeting me in the midst of my badness with your goodness. Teach me how to use the goodness you give me to help someone else who may be struggling where I am.
I’ve heard this blessing many times in my life, usually at the end of church services. But what I just learned today — even though I’ve read through the Bible a few times — is that this is how God told Moses (to tell Aaron and the priests) to bless His people. I guess that’s why it is used so often. It’s exactly how God wants to be asked for blessings.
This reminds me of something I told my husband. I usually take care of the laundry. It’s a chore I don’t mind that much, but it’s still a chore. A never-ending chore. One day I told him a trick to get me to continue to do the laundry without complaint. I told him simply to say, “Thank you for doing the laundry,” every time. That’s it. And he has faithfully thanked me for doing the laundry each time, and I continue to be content with that chore.
Relationships are much easier when communication is clear. When I told my husband how to speak to me, his life became a lot easier and so did mine.
God told His people how to ask for blessings. We should listen! When was the last time you asked God to bless you or to make His face shine on your family or to look with favor on your friends? God said I should do this. So I will start today!
Dear God,
Thank you for telling us how to speak to you and ask for your blessing. Thank you for making it simple and beautiful! Today I ask for your blessing and protection. Please make your face shine on me and be gracious to me. Please look with favor on me today and give me peace. Thank you!
I grew up going to church (whether I liked it of not). It was the old style church where we all sang hymns together with an organ or piano. There was no praise band or performance except for the choir which just sang along with those same hymns and was made up of whoever felt like singing in it, myself included for a brief time.
Music was a big part of my childhood church experience, but unlike the churches I’ve attended in recent times, it was very participatory. Everyone was expected to sing whether they could carry a tune or not. From hymns during the church services to children’s songs at Sunday School or Vacation Bible school to summer camp by the fireside, I learned an awful lot of Christian songs!
At the time I didn’t really think much of it. I enjoyed singing but barely even listened to the words. But I’ve found as an adult now, these songs come back to me all the time. Many of them are based on Bible verses and helped me to memorize scripture without even trying. God speaks to me through these songs at times when I really need to hear from Him. I am so very grateful to the people who taught me and sang with me and played the organ and led the singing.
Today’s verse talks about how important music is in our corporate Christian experience. God’s word should “dwell richly among us” and what better way than by singing it together. The Israelites did it all the time. And I’m so fortunate to have had that experience as a child.
Dear God,
Thank you so much for music. What an incredible invention! Thank you for giving me a community of Christians who saw the value of singing to God, singing the word of Christ to each other. Show me if there is a way I can promote this kind of devotion to your word through song in my life. In the meantime, guide me to the right songs to sing at the right times for encouragement and wisdom.
This refrain is repeated often in the Bible. It’s a lovely, and easy to remember verse of praise for God. And it’s also interesting that, with this verse, I am thanking God not for something He gave me or anything specific He did for me, but I am thanking Him for His very character. It’s like saying, “Thanks for being you!”
Wouldn’t it be nice if we all could say that to each other and really mean it? Thanks for being you!
Thanks for being a Filipino- American tennis player who is great at organizing and laughs so easily.
Thanks for being a retired chemist from Chicago who wears the cutest brightly-colored outfits and has the most welcoming spirit.
Thanks for being an emergency room nurse during your long career and being so adept at caring for your friends, all with an easy-going sense of humor.
Maybe it’s easy to thank my friends for being themselves. It is important to thank those I disagree with for being themselves as well. Maybe even more important. There is always something to appreciate!
Thank you for being a kind-hearted, energetic, and welcoming fitness enthusiast from Reno.
Thank you for being a birdwatcher who appreciates the beauty and variety of nature no matter where you are.
Thank you for being a dedicated mother to your children and a source of helpful information for the neighborhood.
Thank you for being a quiet neighbor who always seems ready with a pleasant smile and a wave.
Dear God,
Thank you so much for your goodness and your eternal, faithful love! And thank you for the enormous variety of people in my life. Remind me to be thankful for who they are and not just what they do for me. And when appropriate, give me the courage and the right words to express my gratitude in a way that builds them up.
Years ago I was taught something about how to argue. I learned I should not use the words “always” or “never” as in, “You always leave your towel on the floor,” or “You never empty the dishwasher.”
I don’t think I always do anything. And I’ve lived long enough that “never” rarely applies to me either.
My arguments should instead be along the lines of “I feel annoyed when I have to pick your wet towel up off the floor,” or “It would make me happy if we shared the duty of emptying the dishwasher.”
So why is Paul going to extremes in today’s verse with “always”, “constantly”, and “everything”?
I don’t think he expects every moment of my day, every day, to be nothing but rejoicing, prayer, and thanksgiving. It’s not possible. I think instead he wants to make a point. When I argue that you always leave your towel on the floor, I am exasperated and want to make a point that it’s a very common occurrence. So common that I remember noticing it and dealing with it very frequently. In fact, I can’t think of a time when I saw you hang your towel up to dry properly. But I don’t think you spend your whole day every day throwing random wet towels on the floor. “Always” is just a repeated pattern and a habit.
So Paul is saying my default position should be one of rejoicing. When people think of me, they should think of how often they notice me rejoicing. It should be my habit and pattern and the behavior I return to again and again, no matter the circumstance. The same with prayer and thanksgiving. They should be my first reactions to any stimulus.
When given a wet towel, you throw it on the floor. You always do that.
When I’m given… anything… I rejoice, pray, and thank God. I always do that constantly, about everything.
Dear God,
Remind me to default to rejoicing in my life. Teach me to reach for prayer before any other resource. Open my eyes to recognize your blessings in all situations and to be thankful. Forgive me for reaching for despair or whining or bitterness instead. Your will is so much better!
It’s really impossible to improve upon the beautiful and poetic psalms of David. Psalm 23 has the benefit of being a well-known, oft-memorized favorite. So it also has some wonderful memories attached for me.
I remember reading it as a child and being enthralled by the imagery. Luxurious green pastures. Cool, refreshing still waters. A banquet table just for me and a cup overflowing with something good. Such beautiful promises.
However, even in David’s magnificent poem of praise, life isn’t all butterflies and rainbows. There is a valley of the shadow of death that, for some reason, I have to walk through. There are rods and staffs of discipline and correction. And my enemies are hanging around my banquet table.
Through it all David reminds his readers of one very important fact. God is with me the whole time. He’s providing the good respites and protecting me during the dark times. He is feeding and encouraging and guiding and loving me at every step in my journey.
Today’s verse is the last verse in the chapter, and what a magnificent ending. Not only is God with me, David reminds me that I can’t shake Him. God pursues me with His goodness. He chases after me with His faithful love when I wander off like a dolt. He says, “Hey! Where are you going?! The good stuff, my loving mercy, joy, peace, and hope are over this way.” He says, “Come back home with me. I’ve got a spot just for you, and it’s beautiful. You’re gonna love it!”
Dear God,
I want to dwell in your beautiful house forever. I want to be where the grass is green and the water is cool and refreshing. Thank you for following me, for pursuing me. Forgive me for thinking any solutions to any of my problems can be found somewhere apart from you. Thank you for joining me and holding my hand in the dark. I trust you to show me the quickest way through. I accept your forgiveness, your love, and your beautiful, undeserved blessings.
I played trumpet in my school marching band in high school and college. It’s not for everyone, but I was fascinated by the result when hundreds of people precisely coordinated their movements to create a design. My own seemingly random and inane steps forward and back, left and right ended up being necessary to complete the overall effect. If I were too slow or too fast or if my steps were spaced too short or too far, there would be unsightly gaps or bulges disrupting the pattern as seen from the stadium seats.
But how could I gauge my timing and my steps since I didn’t have that stadium view from down on the field? The answer is three-fold. I relied on my marching neighbors, the yard lines on the field, and the white-gloved hands of the conductor.
My timing came from those bright, white easy-to-see gloves. As they swept through the air, I could count the downbeats and know precisely when to step and turn.
I calibrated the spacing of my steps by closely watching (using peripheral vision) the marcher next to me as well as the yard lines painted on the field. We practiced together and learned just how many steps should fit between the hash marks. At first there were miscues and collisions, but with practice we could all march forward or backwards or turn in unison or sequentially, whatever was called for.
In today’s verse I am asked to keep in step with the Spirit. That made me think of my marching band days. God is like the conductor with the white gloves, and His Holy Spirit, who is with me at all times, is like my marching band neighbors. The yard lines painted on the field are like God’s Word. To live the way God wants me to live, I need to keep my eyes on His hands as they work in my life, watch closely and follow the movement of the Spirit, and read His Word constantly, making sure I haven’t strayed off course.
One other thing: we were a marching band so we were playing music. But it was important not to actually listen to the music to determine my timing. The music echoed around the huge stadium at the slow speed of sound. If I followed the sound of the drums instead of those white gloves, I would find myself terribly out of sync.
The music in a marching band is like the distractions of this world. It’s so easy to think what I hear and see around me in society at large is true and reliable. But unless it matches up with God’s conducting, the Spirit’s movement, and the Bible, it will throw me off the right path.
Dear God,
Thank you for providing me with guidance for living in your light and love. Teach me how to see your conducting hands. Reveal your Spirit’s movement in my life. And remind me of your Word as I need it. Help me to ignore the distractions of this world in all its flashy glamour. Forgive me when I wander off mucking things up and lead me back to your beautiful design.
Micah wrote this in the midst of a bleak time in his nation. He wrote of pervasive moral decay where bribery was common, the vulnerable were oppressed, and no one could be trusted to do the right thing. Sound familiar?
Society (America and beyond) feels like this to me these last several years. Donald Trump, while president of this country, normalized lying and glorified bullying. Then the pandemic somehow made selfishness, born from fear, acceptable. It seems truth and love have lost their supreme value which makes everyone confused and depressed. And afraid.
Now read today’s verse. It is like a cool glass of water on a hot day.
Micah reminds me that God is still God, even when I’m overwhelmed by bleakness that I cannot control. I don’t have to obsess about the big problems I see. I can turn to God, wait for His direction, and get to work solving the smaller problems around me that I can impact. I can speak truth to people in my life. I can love generously in the face of fear, bitterness, and rage. God will hear me. I can be a light in a dark time the way Micah was. As long as I don’t get overwhelmed but look to God and trust that He hears me.
Dear God,
I am so grateful for your permanence and unchanging power and love. You see exactly what is happening here and have a beautiful plan. I trust you. Meanwhile, show me how to make space for truth and love in my world. Forgive my despair and fear. Chase these away with hope and confidence in your unstoppable goodness and beauty. Please hurry up and put an end to evil in all its forms. Help me to be actively patient until then.
I don’t like having dental work done. (Does anyone?) So when I’m there, I close my eyes and try to “go to my happy place.”
The problem is that any place I have actually visited, no matter how wonderful, has some downsides.
My most commonly used happy place was a beach we used to visit on the island of Roatán in Honduras. It was very secluded, had sunset views, soft sand, and the constant sound of the surf hitting the reef. There was plenty of warm sun but also palm trees for shade and a breeze off the ocean. Iguanas and monkey lalas (basilisk lizards) would entertain us at the edge of the jungle. And we could watch the dive boats and fishing boats pass by. Ahhh. But if I dwell too long on that memory, I recall the tiny biting sand flies, the fire ants, and the mosquitoes carrying malaria and dengue fever. Poof! There goes my happy place reverie.
Another happy place I frequent is at the top of a tree I used to climb as a child. The small tree had a nice view and swayed gently in the breeze. It was my secret. I felt safe and somehow removed from my problems up there. But the tree kept growing, and it became harder and harder to climb as the lowest limbs rose out of reach. And one day, a key branch broke as I was standing on it. I didn’t fall, but it gave me a scare. Poof! There goes another happy place reverie.
If I rely on my imagination instead of my memories to source my happy place material, I might have better luck. I could imagine a beach with sun and surf but without annoying pests. Or a tree with strong, perfectly placed branches.
Today’s verse says that no matter what wonderful things I have experienced or what marvelous, untainted locations I can dream up, the place that God is preparing for me is better. I can imagine some pretty awesome situations so that’s saying something. God can do better than my best, and He’s getting it ready for me and everyone who loves Him to enjoy for eternity.
Dear God,
I am so thankful for the beautiful places and moments I’ve seen and experienced in this world. I’ve been very blessed with some real marvels. It’s amazing to me that you promise more than can be found anywhere in this world. Something so wonderful that I can’t even imagine it in my wildest dreams. I can’t wait to be there with you.
CamDevo 