Clear words can still sail right past us when they aren’t the news we want. In Luke 18, Jesus tells the Twelve exactly what’s about to happen to Him, yet they were just like us: they didn’t want to hear.
We can be inclined to delay approaching God, too busy obsessing on our doubts to come, much like Thomas in John 20. But Thomas _did_ come and so should we.
We know what often happens when people gain power: sooner or later, they start asking how it can benefit them. Ephesians 1:22–23 says everything is under Jesus’ feet and presents Him as head of the church, but he’s not seeking to use power the same way as those others. Just what kind of King is He? What does His reign mean for those who belong to Him?
When we’re desperate for direction, we tend to reach for whatever voice sounds most confident, be it horoscopes, politicians or just about anyone who seems to know something we don’t. Deuteronomy 18 speaks to our searching, reminding us God has never left His people without a trustworthy voice to follow, and what He promised there points somewhere specific.
Solomon, Rehoboam, and Jeroboam all treated God’s promises like something they could improve on or control on their own terms only to encounter the pavement courtesy of the black ice of sin. Our efforts end like that, but God’s faithfulness outlasts our failures.
We all want our lives to mean something—to make a name for ourselves that people will actually remember. The builders at Babel in Genesis 11 wanted exactly that, and the choice they made raises an uncomfortable question for anyone who’s ever chased significance: is the tower you’re building any different from theirs?
The holidays can bring back the empty chair, the family hurt, the memories of when everything felt joyful—and before long, sorrow and anxiety begin to take over. The words of Romans 8 help us in times when grief feels stronger than truth.
