Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Luke 12:32-34 NIV
Lord Jesus, as convicting as your words are, they are exponentially more comforting. Of course I fear things in life—things over which I have little, if any, control. My list of “what if’s?” is real, and gets longer, if I give worry the microphone. But today, your voice transcends the noise and exposes my fears for what they really are—thieves, brigands, and liars.
What can I work up a good case of worries about? I fear for the future of our country—even the whole world. And yet—so gloriously yet, you are the King of the kingdom the Father has joyfully given us. Indeed, you are the ruler of the kings of the earth, the resurrected and reigning Sovereign over all things—our returning Bridegroom and Lord, actively making all things new. Jesus, I truly want your Kingdom more than I want a lasting city in this world.
Jesus, I can get anxious about the health, stories, and wellbeing of people I love. But you’ve given yourself for our salvation; certainly I can trust you to take care of everything else. Right? Though I wish you promised me a pain-free, stress-free, crisis-free life …
Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God. Psalm 20:7 (ESV)
Heavenly Father, the battle for our heart’s trust is relentless, often vicious, and quite deceptive. As this day begins (and continues), we affirm that only you are worthy of our worship, love, and trust; but we also want to name the people, places, and things to which we often look for deliverance, instead of you. In David’s day, it was chariots and horses; in our day many other pseudo-saviors claim our trust.
Some trust in their goodness and discipline, and niceness; but we trust in the finished work of Jesus and the gift of his perfect righteousness.
Some trust in their spouse’s attention and affection, and their children’s success and “intactness”; but we trust in the steadfast love and great delight you have for us in Jesus.
Some trust in their stock portfolios, cash margins, and “stuff”; but we trust in the immeasurable riches of Christ and the inviolate treasure kept for us in heaven.
Some trust in their physicality and their sensuality; but in sickness and health, in our youthfulness and our aging, we trust in the truly beautiful and all-powerful One—Jesus.
Some trust in being smart, wise, and right; but we trust in Jesus, who is our wisdom from God—that is our righteousness, holiness, and redemption.
Some trust in being in included in special groups, circles, and clubs; but we trust in the gift of our union with Christ, and the ongoing communion we enjoy with the …
And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful. Opponents must be gently instructed, in the hope that God will grant them repentance leading them to a knowledge of the truth 2 Tim. 2:24-25 NIV
It is better to live in a desert land than with a quarrelsome and fretful woman (man, child, spouse, co-worker, neighbor, politician, etc.) Prov. 21:19 ESV
Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry James 1:19 NLT
Heavenly Father, the current political season in the US has become an important mirror for me. In the midst of all the disrespectful name-calling and dismissive labeling, the one-sided diatribe and the one-liner sarcasm, I’m compelled to ask myself, “Am I like this? Is this the way I handle my concerns, communicate my convictions, and engage my neighbors? Am I the quarrelsome and fretful person that makes life in a desert land attractive to others?
Father, forgive me when I lose sight of the real issues, fertilize my anger, and multiply my words. Forgive me when I let resentment trump reasonableness; and when I react out of the irritation of the moment, rather than responding from of the riches of grace.
Show me the difference between righteous indignation and unrighteous aggravation. Convict me quickly when I lose sight of the occupied throne of heaven, resulting in meager faith and much fear, and more gossiping than “gospel-ing.”
The Lord laughs at the wicked for he knows their day is coming. Ps. 37:13 (NIV)
Heavenly Father, trucks are meant to carry needed supplies to help families grow and thrive—not be a projectile of terror and death, targeting your precious image bearers. I pray for the shocked, grieving, enraged people of Nice, and all our stunned hearts.
Father, I so look forward to the Day when we’ll actually get to hear you laugh—a laughter that already fills the counts of heaven, and echoes throughout the chambers of eternity. That will be the Day when every expression of darkness and death, evil and folly, meanness and wickedness will be gone… forever.
It’s hard to conceive of our world devoid of all sin and brokenness, and filled to overflowing with your goodness, truth, and beauty. But you’ve promised that Day and have secured it, through the finished work of Jesus. Though not as quickly as we’d like, but more certainly than we can imagine, the Day of “all things new” is coming. Perfect peace will prevail. No more war; not even one more argument.
Father, forgive my fearful fretting, cynical unbelief, and vengeful musings. Vengeance belongs to you, not me. My wicked musings deserve your judgment just as much as they require your grace. Make me a meek man who grieves evil, but one who lives with hope.
So when wicked plots and gnashing teeth seem to be on the increase and righteousness seems to be on the decrease, please, Father, allow us—your beloved daughters and sons, to hear your unmuted, cosmos-shaking, whole-Being laughter. May your …
Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face. Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.” John 11:43-44 (NIV)
Dear Lord Jesus, as surely as you spoke the words to a dead Lazarus, “Come out!” and he was raised from the dead, so when you spoke the gospel to our hearts, we too were raised to newness of life. We have passed from death to life, from condemnation for our sins to the righteousness of faith; and from life in the kingdom of darkness to life in the kingdom of God. For your sovereign, irresistible, resurrecting grace, we shout Hallelujah!
Yet as surely as Lazarus needed to be freed from his grave-clothes, so do we. The smell and signs of death still cling to us, bind us, and trip us up. There are many areas of our lives for which we long for greater freedom.
Jesus, grant us greater freedom from the fear and awe of man. Some people have way more power over our hearts than they deserve. Their criticism and rejection can devastate us; and their praise and appreciation can make us. May your great love for us, and delight in us, shift the center of our relational world.
We also crave freedom from our self-centered worries and our soul-sapping anxieties. Jesus, you have the hearts of all kings in your hand—as well as all of our days and wounds, longings and burdens. …
“After this time had passed, I, Nebuchadnezzar, looked up to heaven. My sanity returned, and I praised and worshiped the Most High and honored the one who lives forever. His rule is everlasting, and his kingdom is eternal. All the people of the earth are nothing compared to him. He does as he pleases among the angels of heaven and among the people of the earth. No one can stop him or say to him, ‘What do you mean by doing these things?‘ Daniel 4:34-35 (NLT)
Dear heavenly Father, O, how I love and need this passage. Like Nebuchadnezzar, I’m never saner than when I’m worshiping you and acknowledging your sovereignty, over all things. I’m so very thankful that you are God, and I am not. Forgive me when I think less of you, and otherwise of me.
I’m grateful that you do as you please, and not as we often beg you to do. Indeed, Father, I’ve lived long enough to praise you for some of the “No’s” I’ve received to prayers for which I desperately wanted a “Yes“. You do all things well, not easy; but in time, you will make all things beautiful. Give me grace to wait for that Day, Father.
Help me to trust your heart when I cannot see your hand at work. Forgive me for thinking I need to draw certain international crises, and personal situations, to your attention—as though you’re not aware; or worse, as though you don’t care. Thank you, Father, for your kindness and patience, when I’m anxious and demanding.
“Woe to those who quarrel with their Maker, those who are nothing but potsherds among the potsherds on the ground. Does the clay say to the potter, ‘What are you making?’ Does your work say, ‘The potter has no hands’? Isaiah 45:9 (NIV)
Dear heavenly Father, even your “Woe’s” are gifts of grace, for they warn me of the foolishness of my reasoning, the limitations of my perspective, and the self-centeredness of my musings.
Sometimes, I “think” I’d like to be you for fifteen minutes. That’d give me a chance to fix people that need fixing; fund ministries which serve you the best, but struggle with finances the most; bring judgment upon those who’ve “got it coming”; alleviate the sufferings of friends whose physical and emotional pain is overwhelming; exact revenge on people who’ve hurt me the deepest and betrayed me the most; put an end to human trafficking and the pornography industry; rid the world of annoying politicians and “liberal” pundits; and, heal broken marriages of friends and obliterate cancer, once and for all.
Alas, Father, I am such a mix of good desires and broken agendas. I look at my list and realize how much I need the gospel—every day and every hour. Of course, you the Potter, have hands—big, loving, mighty ones. And not only that, you have a heart bigger than the universe; wisdom beyond all imaginings; and a timetable that makes Swiss precision seem like laissez-faire tardiness.
There is a …
Didn’t we say to you in Egypt, ‘Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians’? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!” Moses answered the people, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” Ex. 14:12-14 (NIV)
Dear heavenly Father, fear and worry can really do a number on us. I totally get how your children could prefer returning to a life of slavery in Egypt over trusting you in the wilderness of the unknown. I’ve often felt a similar temptation to choose a known brokenness over the promise of unseen beauty. Help my unbelief as I face different battles and skirmishes in life. Help me to be still… and trust that you will fight for me.
Father, I’m not facing the threat of Egyptian soldiers (thankfully). Often my biggest battles are within my own heart. You tell me of your great love for me in Jesus—which I really believe is true, yet too often I give people the power to validate me—as though your delight in me is not enough. Continue to free me from my love of the approval of man.
Many times I battle with trusting you with the hearts and stories of people I love. I resort to ineffective ways of manipulating, spiritualizing, or trying to …
Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God. Psalm 20:7 (ESV)
Those who trust in themselves are fools, but those who walk in wisdom are kept safe. Prov. 28:26 (NIV)
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. Psalm 56:3 (NIV)
“Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me. John 14:1 (NLT)
Dear heavenly Father, every difficult season of life is anticipated in your Word—all the exigencies and emergencies, disheartening crises and devastating crucibles, broken promises and broken trust. Thank you for your warnings and wisdom, and today—especially, thank you for your welcome. Few things hurt as much as broken trust. Help us Lord, help us trust you when trusting is really hard.
We trust a chair will support our weight when we sit down, a bridge won’t collapse when we drive across it, the food we bring home from the market is safe, the diagnosis we get from our doctor is right, and people we love won’t harm us. Father, we’re not naïve. We live in a broken world, as broken people. If we stay in any relationship long enough, we will be a disappointment and we will be disappointed. Today, however, we ask you to meet us in the raw and lingering pain of broken trust.
In our fear, and with our troubled hearts, we want to trust you, Father, completely. Where else can we go. What else, who …
But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you. 2 Pet. 3:8-9 (NIV)
Dear heavenly Father, thank you for being patient with our impatience. You’ve never been late for anything. “Swiss timing” is tardiness, compared to the precision of your faithfulness. You will send Jesus back at just the right time, to finish making all things new. That grand Day will happen, not a day early and not a day late.
And how we long for that Day. No more death, pain, or mourning; no more knowing in part or loving in part; no more goodbyes or good riddance’s; no more disappointing others or being disappointed; no more betrayals or rejections; nor more broken hearts or broken anything; no more heartaches or even heartburn.
But Father, your faithfulness isn’t just tied to the timing of the second coming, but to everything else you’ve promised as well. Indeed, there’s no panic or second-guessing in heaven today. You’re not distracted or perplexed about anything—that would be us, not you. Though it’s hard to imagine why you haven’t answered certain prayers we’ve offered, with a quick and big “Yes!” nevertheless, you do all things well. You gave Jesus for our sins; certainly we can trust you to give us everything else we really need.
So grant us grace in our waiting, strength in our …