
Most of us have something we217;d rather not put on the table before God—something we217;re holding just tightly enough that we hope He won217;t notice. In Luke 18, a ruler who has kept the commandments since his youth comes to Jesus asking what he still must do to inherit eternal life, and Jesus names exactly the one thing he isn217;t ready to hear.
Amid turkey and pie and football, we can list what we217;re thankful for and still miss the point. Psalm 95 won217;t let us settle for vague gratitude; it calls us to sing to the Lord and come into His presence with thanksgiving to the rock of our salvation.
As the Israelites finds themselves out in the wilderness for years, Numbers 20 shows a people in a fog of discouragement 212; even Moses himself loses sight of what God is doing. But even when the discouragement feels overwhelming, we don217;t have to let it get the final word.
Whatever looks triumphant—the people and things we hold out as the absolute measure of concrete, dependable success—still meets death that tramples it. Isaiah warns that rebels and sinners will together be shattered, and those who forsake the Lord will perish. What then are we going to hold onto?
We know we217;re going to die—it217;s as inevitable as buttered toast landing face-down—but Romans 6:5 asks whether that death has to mean the same thing it did before Christ.
What looks successful is not always healthy, especially when everyone depends on one gifted leader. In Exodus 18, Jethro watches Moses carry the people’s disputes from morning until evening and warns that both Moses and the people will wear themselves out. How does God actually intend his people to serve together?
Paul left a wide path of destruction as he went city to city persecuting God217;s people, and yet in 1 Timothy 1:15, even as he names himself the foremost of sinners Jesus came to save, he can say that last part: Jesus came to save him. And He came to save us, too.
Music has a way of dealing with all sorts of struggles, even the ones that come while trying to create with the gifts God gave. You end up feeling like heaven is being forced to marry hell, wondering if God is near or far as you wait. Psalm 10 meets us in exactly that cry.
Deep down, even people who come to God carry a fear that He will eventually give up on them — that sooner or later they217;ll be shown the door. That fear is exactly what Jesus meets head-on in John 6.
You can sit in a room full of people and still feel like the only one. In Genesis 2, Adam is the lone human until he sees someone who is bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh, and the first words from human lips are delight. We were wired for that face-to-face connection, and most of us still know the ache when it is missing.