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October 21

Thursday, October 21st, 2021

I recently finished a book by Tony Evans called Kingdom Heroes. It was based on Hebrews 11 and the heroes of the faith written about there. One of those heroes was an unlikely person-a woman named Rahab.

Rahab is first mentioned in Joshua 2 where she harbored the Jewish spies in Jericho. She listened to her own people talk about the God who was doing powerful things and she believed what they said. She hid the spies and then helped them escape, but not before she had secured the safety of her and her family when the Israelites came for Jericho. We know from Matthew 1 that it was successful; she married Salmon; they had Boaz (husband to Ruth); who had Jesse, the father of David.

All of that is a wonderful testimony to God’s plan and protection.  But the story of Rahab is also a testimony of grace unlimited. In our human way of thinking, could there be anyone more undeserving of God’s grace than a prostitute? But in God’s way of thinking could there be anyone more in need of it? And while we may say yes to the undeserving part, we must also recognize that if God did it for her, what does that say about us? To me, it only says one thing: grace is for me too. Abundant grace. I may not be a prostitute, but I am a sinner.  A sinner in need of grace. God can and has taken people with bad reputations, with those society (and the church) think are too far gone and restored them. He transforms even the sloppiest, dirtiest, and most sinful people into “trophies” for His hall of faith.

May I be one of them.

“Father, I thank you a thousand times over for your marvelous grace. You showed that grace in Rahab’s life. You show it in mine. May I be a testimony to that.”

October 12

Tuesday, October 12th, 2021

Bone-tired. Weary beyond belief. Asleep on his feet. Those are just some of the phrases we will use to describe how we feel. I’ve been there. So tired I can barely think. So weary it was an effort to pick my feet up and put one foot down in front of another.

I’ve been there spiritually as well. The battles have been intense. The days long; the nights short. The arm wielding the sword hanging by my side. The helmet askew; the head bowed in weariness, and yes, even defeat. The armor stripped off because I am just too wiped out to wear it. The shoes too heavy for my feet.

But from out of nowhere comes a second wind. As Petra sang it so many years ago: “I got my second wind/The Spirit is moving again.” Isaiah 40:28-31 has just happened!

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth Does not become weary or tired. His understanding is unsearchable. He gives strength to the weary, And to the one who lacks might He increases power. Though youths grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly, Yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; They will mount up with wings like eagles, They will run and not get tired, They will walk and not become weary.”  (NASB2020)

The end of myself became the beginning of Him. The end of my strength became the beginning of His.

Physical. Mental. Spiritual. Weariness touches us all.  But so does the energy of the Spirit. I find myself rejuvenated.

Physically- the weariness gives way to intentional movement.

Mentally- a clarity comes that assesses situations and knows how to act.

Spiritually- The “light goes on” and a fresh wind blows through.

God’s Word is once again true: “Those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength.”

“Father, thank you for that fresh breath, that promised life which comes from You keeping Your Word.”

October 8

Friday, October 8th, 2021

Today is Friday, October 8. Just in case you didn’t know or aren’t awake to realize it. 🙂  We left yesterday, Lord willing, for Ohio. Tami is venturing there with us this trip since she is on Fall Break (she gets two whole days off!). It is (for us) Braden’s last football game to attend. We have made multiple trips to Ohio this fall-most generally over there on Friday and back home Saturday after watching him play Saturday morning. It has made for some tired grandparents, especially mamaw, on Sunday. I think adrenaline flows through my veins Sunday morning. Plus I tend to have much more energy than Jo does.

Anyway, what we do for our grandchildren! 

That being said, you may have come here expecting a devotion. Unless I was inspired sometime Wednesday or Thursday morning to write two devotions, all I can ask you to do is to read Psalm 98-100 along with me or Proverbs 8.

I’d also like your prayers. We plan to return tomorrow morning since he plays Thursday night (a change in schedule) and then I also turn 69 Saturday.  Thanks!  See you Monday morning.

October 6

Wednesday, October 6th, 2021

There is one thing I am very passionate about. I preach it. I speak it. I counsel it. I’ve definitely said it more than once. I think Bob Goff’s quote by Nelson Mandela says it well:

As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison. (#279-p.329)

I have stated it another way countless times (just ask the folks of the church I pastor): “If you fail to forgive, you have become their slave. They own you.”

Sweet Comfort Band, an early iconic group of Contemporary Christian Music, recorded a song called Habit of Hate. I’ve recently begun listening to them again and had forgotten about that song. Here is a taste of the powerful lyrics: “Now you’re clenching your fist/And that crazed, evil passion begins/Now you’re waiting for you victim/Careful planning, getting even/And you strangle your love/When you strengthen your habit of hate.” (Album: Perfect Timing-1984)

They are right on the money. I have seen so many lives devastated-their own and those close to them-by someone’s hatred and refusal to forgive.  It is like they become another person.

I think Bob said it best in that same devotion:

When we become people who extend forgiveness, especially when it’s costly or hard, we’ll be well on our way to loving like Jesus. (Ibid)

May we all start loving like Jesus.

May I start loving like Jesus.

“Father, help me to love like Jesus. Help me to not be captive the destructive emotions that ruin me and those around me.”

If you want to hear the song, you can check it out here.

September 29

Wednesday, September 29th, 2021

Two nights ago I was doing a little purging while looking for some papers. As I was doing so, I ran across some pictures-pictures from days which seem so long ago. I was a lot heavier (I lifted weights regularly); I had a suit and tie on (gag); my beard had little to no gray (now it is almost all white/gray; Jo’s hair was permed and full; Tami was in college and “looked like” a professional; and Janna was in high school with short hair (she has beautiful, long hair now). I also found my high school report card from my Senior year. Let’s just say the two “A’s” (phys ed and driver’s ed) did not add credibility to my “you need to study” shtick to my girls.

Pictures are funny. They remind you of what was, often leaving one incredulous at the “was I really like that?” moment. “Did I really look like that?”

My recent bout with COVID (12/20-2/21) when I lost 48 pounds in about 3-4 weeks left me looking like a refugee from a concentration camp. My appearance changed drastically. I’m grateful that for the most part I’m back to looking like my normal (good-looking) self. 🙂

This whole thing came back to me when I read something Bob Goff wrote:

One thing we know for sure is that Jesus never cared about appearance…Jesus was more concerned about the experience than the appearance. He came to start a movement, not put on a display. He released His Spirit to spread love all over the world, and love doesn’t depend on people looking pretty. (#272-p.321)

After seeing myself at my worst during the COVID fight, I deleted that video. I didn’t want to be reminded of how bad I looked.

I’m glad God doesn’t care what I look like. I look in the mirror and am appalled; He looks and calls me “His own.” And THAT is the greatest feeling in the world!

“Father, thank you that You call me Yours. Thank you for not being embarrassed about the way I look or linger on how I feel about myself.”

September 24

Friday, September 24th, 2021

We often hear a statement like “Forget your past.” I understand the import of that statement. If something has happened that we would just as soon forget, it applies. I get that. I really do. I’ve had enough dealings with people who have been abused, molested, had an abortion, had an affair, etc. that they would like to move beyond. And I’m all for that. Some stuff that happened to us in the past does need to be let go. We certainly can’t change it.

But there is also a time we should not let go of our past. Let me rephrase that. There are times we should not forget what happened in the past.

There is a saying that something like this: “Those who fail to learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.” We should never forget certain dates for example: July 4, 1776.  April 9, 1865 (surrender at Appomattox) December 7, 1941. August 15, 1945 (VJ Day). September 11, 2001.  October 9 (my birthday)!! 🙂 In all seriousness, some dates and events must never be forgotten.

Psalm 78 is made up of 72 verses. It is a history lesson for the Israelites to remember. It is a reminder to them of their past and God’s faithfulness in that past. It is not a pretty picture by any stretch. It is a litany of waywardness, sin, rebellion, and disobedience. But it is also about a compassionate God.

So it helps to remember some things. Take a few minutes and read Psalm 78. Then ask yourself, what would my past be like if I wrote mine down? Like the Israelites, you would probably see a messy life with a faithful God right there with you.

I know I would.

This is the weekend. Take some time to reflect on the past and how God was faithful to you through it all.

September 22

Wednesday, September 22nd, 2021

First day of Fall! I don’t know whether to cry or to cry. 🙂  Yeah, I’m a warm weather person. Sort of hard to ride a bike with snow and ice on the ground. Anyway, right now we are in our 3rd of 40 days of rain. On the positive side, least it is liquid sunshine not white flakes. Okay…on to the devotion.

The dictionary defines hero as “a person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities.”

We hear a lot of talk these days about heroes. For the past year and a half we have been hearing about the front line workers who are heroes. Nurses. Police. Fire. Doctors. In my mind, they are heroes. Sadly, their heroism is being brushed aside and forgotten because of the vaxx mandate.  I will withhold comment.  🙂

I grew up with heroes. Comic books. TV shows. Athletes. Just like every other kid I had my favorites. Over the past decade the idea of a hero-a superhero- has been taken to a whole new level thanks to cinema.  Superman became Spiderman. Spiderman was soon enveloped by the Marvel universe of Iron Man, Captain America, The Avengers, and others. Batman rose from the comic book dead. Spiderman came back to life. Jason Bourne lived through mind games and countless fights and car chases to walk away each movie. The list goes on.

I think we need to stop looking to fantasy for our heroes and see them right next to us. They live with us. They work with us. They worship with us. They play alongside us. They are the mom and dad who love their handicapped child as though he/she is “normal.” They are the old man/lady who do their best to care for their mate who doesn’t even remember their name anymore. I recently read of a woman who took care of her former soccer-playing comatose husband for decades. She is a hero.

“Heroes come in every age and size,” Bob Goff writes. (#264-p.313). I’ve always believed that. I’m convinced, while we focus on the few who have prominent names, there are literally hundreds of thousands who go unnamed and unnoticed.

Heroes don’t wear capes (unless it is a dad playing “house” with his daughter). They don’t wear tights and have indestructible shields, and superhuman abilities to leap tall buildings. No…heroes are ordinary people doing ordinary things on ordinary days in extraordinary ways. Be a hero. Better yet…acknowledge one.

“Father, may I recognize a hero and not let him or her go unnoticed.”

September 21

Tuesday, September 21st, 2021

One of the “things” that has captured our world is jumping to conclusions. You know…make a decision and let that decision be made before all the facts are in.

This has been especially true in our world of instant news-Twitter, FB, Instagram and the like. We see or hear something and we are ready to be judge, jury, and executioner before knowing all the facts.

Case in point: Our Daily Bread had a story of an event which happened during the 2018 baseball season. A Chicago Cubs coach wanted to give a baseball to a young boy sitting by the dugout. When the coach tossed him a ball, a man sitting next to him scooped it up. He was excoriated by the media. He was called a brute. I vaguely remember seeing that video and I’m ashamed to admit that I thought, “How rude!” The first reaction of the media was to call him out about his cold-heartedness and lack of class. It took 24 hours for the truth to come out that those two had made a deal (after the man had snagged a ball for him earlier) to share any additional balls that came their way. By then, he was blistered.

Jumping to conclusions. We are strong on condemning “obvious” sins-adultery, homosexuality, stealing (unless it is during a riot), lying (sometimes but not always), but we give a free pass to jumping to conclusions and jumping on the bandwagon of condemnation. Exodus 23:2 tells us not to “join together with a crowd in order to pervert justice.” (NASB2020)

Let’s stop jumping to conclusions. Let’s get the facts-the truth-before ruining someone’s life with untruth.

“Father, may I be a truth-gatherer and not a lie-spreader.”

September 20

Monday, September 20th, 2021

Sitting the bench is no fun.

Because I was a fairly good athlete I seldom sat the bench. That is, until I hit high school basketball. I started playing Little League baseball at Age 8. There no such torture chamber as T-ball or “coach pitch” back then. It was us playing ball. I seemed to have a knack for baseball. I didn’t start basketball until 9th grade. I was tall but grew 3-4″ in one year (I had the achy knees to prove it). I didn’t know how to dribble a basketball and run so while the team practiced I did too-on the sidelines running up and down the side of the court dribbling the ball.

I played some as a JV in grades 10-11 and thought I would have my chance to play as a Sr. I even went to summer ball. Nope. Coach was looking to next year so I sat the bench. I didn’t even get a chance to play in my last game as a Senior (but coach said he heard me yelling for the team.  Big deal!)

Moving onto college I played as a starter all 3 years (I didn’t play my senior year since I chose to get married and actually try to study). The only time I sat the bench was for a breather or coach wanted me to be playing later in the game and stay out of foul trouble.

I hated sitting the bench. I felt like a loser. I never had my parents come watch a high school game so I wasn’t disappointing them. I just felt useless at times. I was a practice dummy-used in practice to prepare the team for the opposing team.

I dreamed of playing professional sports. I know now I was never good enough. And never would have been.

Bob Goff reminded me there is no shame in being on the bench. He said,

The dream He (God) put in your heart are dreams He still wants to fulfill through you today. He didn’t create any of us to just be practice buddies or water boys-there’s no sideline to God’s story of redemption, and there’s no bench. (#262-p.311)

You know? He is right. All that “splinter gathering” I did was molding me to wait, but also showing me I have value-as a pastor-not as a ball player. It just took me awhile to realize it. (I Cor. 12:7)

“Thank you Father for showing me that You have no intention of me sitting on the bench. You have me in Your game and a highly valued member of Your team.”

September 17

Friday, September 17th, 2021

3 chapters. 3 passages.

I’ve been reading through Psalms again-my second time this year. I’m using a different translation this time through-one I am getting more familiar with and have really grown to love. The NASB2020. But the translation really is unimportant to the weight and import of these 3 passages.

“Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For you have been a refuge for me, A tower of strength against the enemy.” (Psalm 61:2b-3a)

“My soul waits in silence for God alone; From Him comes my salvation. He alone is my rock and my salvation, My stronghold; I will not be shaken.” (Psalm 62: 1-2)  {Note: for an added bonus read verses 5-8}

“God, You are my God; I shall be watching for You; My soul thirsts for You, my flesh yearns for You, In a dry and exhausted land where there is no water.” (Psalm 63:1)

These verses came home to me recently as I was visiting with someone. This man’s life had been controlled by alcohol and at the ripe young age of 67, he came to know Jesus as his Savior. He is now 78 and has not had a drink in all those years. He speaks of being in the muck and being pulled out in his former job (he is retired) with a major pipeline. His reference to Psalm 69 was so refreshing because he was able to make a great application with it. And he also spoke of how Jesus did that for him. He now stands on the Rock-Jesus-his refuge and strength. What a refreshing visit it was!  May his tribe increase!!

May my heart be as tender to God’s help and saving grace as his.

“Father, You are my strength. My rock. My refuge. May I always acknowledge that and live that.”