Ephesians 3:20-21

Jesus knew firsthand what it meant to live with limited financial resources, to have others–including family members–question His actions (Mark 3:21), and to suffer rejection by those He sought to serve (John 6:66). Yet, in spite of such opposition, Jesus never let circumstances control His emotions or dictate His actions. Instead, He chose to trust that the Father was able to carry out His Word.

We are called to follow the example of Christ by believing that God is able to do what He has promised. For instance, the Bible pledges eternal salvation for everyone who asks for forgiveness in Jesus’ name (Heb. 7:25). The Son’s death on the cross satisfied the demands of divine justice for all our sins–from “white lies” to unspeakably vile acts. When we have true faith in Jesus, God will forgive us and make each of us a new creation in Christ (2 Cor. 5:17). No matter what trouble we may have caused, He invites us to draw near in faith and receive the gift of everlasting life.

God promises to save whoever trusts in Him, and also to establish believers in truth (Rom. 16:25). He gives us a firm foundation in Christ and then builds us up in righteousness. Through His Spirit and the Word, we start to see things as our Father does and then can understand what pleases Him.

By believing God keeps His promises, we grow stronger in our faith and gain peace. Hardships that would have thrown us off course lose their power to shake us. Hope replaces discouragement, and trust overcomes doubt. When trouble comes, focus on God’s ability to care for you.

 In the eyes of an eight year-old, the most wonderful thing about Lake Michigan was grandpa’s boat. Sailing was a hobby of his and I was a glad participant. A particularly rare treat was spending the night on the boat, gently being rocked to sleep by the bobbing waves and steady clanking of metal against mast. My grandpa tried to show me the Milky Way, directing my eyes by way of the North Star. He told us the meaning of the boat’s name, a word that sounded funny at the time. “Nomad,” he said, “is the word for a wanderer, a drifting, homeless traveler.” Feeling like the darkened sky could swallow me up in seconds, under the stars, I felt the same. 

 One of the things I am comforted by in the Christian religion is the insistence that I am a wanderer, a stranger in a foreign land. “Hear my prayer, O LORD,” pleads the psalmist, “and give ear to my cry; do not hold your peace at my tears. For I am your passing guest, an alien, like all my forebears.” In the book of Hebrews, amongst the testimonies of those who have lived and died, we are told that besides having in common a life of faith, these men and women had in common the suspicion that they were people living as aliens, journeying toward home. “All these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth.”(1) 

 In his book Reaching Out, author Henri Nouwen defines a stranger as someone who is “estranged from their own past, culture and country, from their neighbors, friends and family, from their deepest self and from God.”(2) There are perhaps few of us who cannot find ourselves within that definition in some way each day. At the sound of breaking news and in the silence of anguished prayer, there is a sense of alienation that wells up within us. Longing for promises in the distance, we wait estranged by the hope that all is not as it will be.

 Along the road to Emmaus, Jesus walked with two of his disciples who did not recognize him. On their way, the disciples talked about the events that gripped them with confusion and sorrow: their crucified leader, their lost hope, and rumors of an empty tomb. The one who traveled with them talked about the Scriptures, explaining events and promises down the centuries from Moses to the prophets. When they arrived, they invited him in to have a meal with them, and as he broke the bread, their eyes were opened:  This stranger who walked with them was the one they knew.

 On the journey towards home, there are always parts of ourselves that wander off with guilt or resentment, or get stuck somewhere on a tangent. But there is a great difference between wandering like a nomadic soul and walking as a stranger aware that going home is a lifelong journey walked in thankful awareness of life with the Spirit. Often we are aware how long is the journey and how trying the conversations that must be had along the way. But we may find ourselves encouraged by fellow strangers in our midst. In the form of a tired traveler, Christ came to show us how to live. As a stranger in a foreign land, salvation came searching for all who find themselves estranged.  

 Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

 (1) cf. Psalm 39:12, Hebrews 11:13.
(2) Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out (New York: Doubleday, 1986), 49.

Morning “On mine arm shall they trust.” / Isaiah 51:5

In seasons of severe trial, the Christian has nothing on earth that he can
trust to, and is therefore compelled to cast himself on his God alone. When
his vessel is on its beam-ends, and no human deliverance can avail, he must
simply and entirely trust himself to the providence and care of God. Happy
storm that wrecks a man on such a rock as this! O blessed hurricane that
drives the soul to God and God alone! There is no getting at our God sometimes
because of the multitude of our friends; but when a man is so poor, so
friendless, so helpless that he has nowhere else to turn, he flies into his
Father’s arms, and is blessedly clasped therein! When he is burdened with
troubles so pressing and so peculiar, that he cannot tell them to any but his
God, he may be thankful for them; for he will learn more of his Lord then than
at any other time. Oh, tempest-tossed believer, it is a happy trouble that
drives thee to thy Father! Now that thou hast only thy God to trust to, see
that thou puttest thy full confidence in him. Dishonour not thy Lord and
Master by unworthy doubts and fears; but be strong in faith, giving glory to
God. Show the world that thy God is worth ten thousand worlds to thee. Show
rich men how rich thou art in thy poverty when the Lord God is thy helper.
Show the strong man how strong thou art in thy weakness when underneath thee
are the everlasting arms. Now is the time for feats of faith and valiant
exploits. Be strong and very courageous, and the Lord thy God shall certainly,
as surely as he built the heavens and the earth, glorify himself in thy
weakness, and magnify his might in the midst of thy distress. The grandeur of
the arch of heaven would be spoiled if the sky were supported by a single
visible column, and your faith would lose its glory if it rested on anything
discernible by the carnal eye. May the Holy Spirit give you to rest in Jesus
this closing day of the month.

Evening “If we walk in the light, as he is in the light.” / 1 John 1:7

As he is in the light! Can we ever attain to this? Shall we ever be able to
walk as clearly in the light as he is whom we call “Our Father,” of whom it is
written, “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all?” Certainly, this is
the model which is set before us, for the Saviour himself said, “Be ye
perfect, even as your Father who is in heaven is perfect;” and although we may
feel that we can never rival the perfection of God, yet we are to seek after
it, and never to be satisfied until we attain to it. The youthful artist, as
he grasps his early pencil, can hardly hope to equal Raphael or Michael
Angelo, but still, if he did not have a noble beau ideal before his mind, he
would only attain to something very mean and ordinary. But what is meant by
the expression that the Christian is to walk in light as God is in the light?
We conceive it to import likeness, but not degree. We are as truly in the
light, we are as heartily in the light, we are as sincerely in the light, as
honestly in the light, though we cannot be there in the same measure. I cannot
dwell in the sun, it is too bright a place for my residence, but I can walk in
the light of the sun; and so, though I cannot attain to that perfection of
purity and truth which belongs to the Lord of hosts by nature as the
infinitely good, yet I can set the Lord always before me, and strive, by the
help of the indwelling Spirit, after conformity to his image. That famous old
commentator, John Trapp, says, “We may be in the light as God is in the light
for quality, but not for equality.” We are to have the same light, and are as
truly to have it and walk in it as God does, though, as for equality with God
in his holiness and purity, that must be left until we cross the Jordan and
enter into the perfection of the Most High. Mark that the blessings of sacred
fellowship and perfect cleansing are bound up with walking in the light.

If we walk in the light, as he is in the light …   1 John 1:7

 “As he is in the light”! Can we ever attain to this? Will we ever be able to walk as clearly in the light as He is whom we call “Our Father,” of whom it is written, “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all” (verse 5)? Certainly this is the model that is set before us, for the Savior Himself said, “You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect”;1 and although we may feel that we can never rival the perfection of God, yet we are to seek after it and not be satisfied until we attain to it. The youthful artist as he grasps his newly sharpened pencil can hardly hope to equal Raphael or Michelangelo; but still, if he did not have a noble ideal before his mind, he would only attain to something very mean and ordinary.

But what is meant by the expression that the Christian is to walk in light as God is in the light? We conceive it to convey likeness but not degree. We are as truly in the light, we are as heartily in the light, we are as sincerely in the light, as honestly in the light, although we cannot be there in the same measure. I cannot dwell in the sun—it is too bright a place for my residence, but I can walk in the light of the sun; and so, though I cannot attain to that perfection of purity and truth that belongs to the Lord of hosts by nature as the infinitely good, yet I can set the Lord always before me and strive, by the help of the indwelling Spirit, to conform to His image.

The famous old commentator John Trapp says, “We may be in the light as God is in the light for quality, but not for equality.” We are to have the same light and are as truly to have it and walk in it as God does, though as for equality with God in His holiness and purity, that must be left until we cross the Jordan and enter into the perfection of the Most High. Notice how the blessings of sacred fellowship and perfect cleansing are bound up with walking in the light.

1Matthew 5:48

Family Reading Plan  Ezekiel 3   Psalm 39

Jesus said in John 13:34, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” The only way people will know that you are my disciples, declared Jesus, is to demonstrate it by your relationships. Thus I believe there can be no real Christian apologetic without first a community of love and relationships. After we have given all the arguments, the defenses and the evidences, loving one another is the final apologetic.

 Of course, our relationships to one another in a fallen world waiting for the coming of Christ are not going to be idealistic, which is perhaps why Jesus chose an intimate occasion with his disciples to offer this command—during what we now call the Last Supper. The doctor Luke also records this occasion in his Gospel (see Luke 22), and here we gain some interesting insight about relationships that John doesn’t mention as John’s focus is on Jesus washing his disciples’ feet. Luke writes, “Also a dispute arose among them as to which of them was considered to be greatest” (22:24). Luke does not say anything about the washing of the feet. But putting the two texts together, you begin to see that Jesus is actually telling the disciples that by washing the feet of one another, they were going to demonstrate that they (and we) are living in an imperfect world where we could, to some degree, reflect the perfection of relationship that is part of the triune God.

 We have two children. Our first one is a daughter. Those of you who have daughters, you know that daughters are famous for lecturing their fathers! Now if our daughter were able to lecture within the few seconds of her birth, she would have given us a lecture that would have probably run along these lines: “You should be happy that I am born because before I was born, you had no object to love. But now that I am born, you can love me and therefore you are beginning to learn to love. And therefore (albeit in a peculiarly ironic way), I am your teacher and you are my students.” In hindsight, my wife and I would have to say, “Amen.”

 However, if this scenario reflects one’s perception of God this would be problematic because this God would be a God without an object to love. What do I mean? God is three-in-one: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in relationship. God is not unipersonal but rather triune and thus relational. John, above all the other writers of the Bible, tells us that within the oneness of this God, there is a relationship. Take, for instance, John 14:8–11. When the disciple Philip asks Jesus to show the Father to them, Jesus chides Philip and his fellow disciples for not recognizing who he was in spite of being with him for so long. Jesus then goes on to explicitly tell them that those who have seen him have seen God! This claim is amazing, to say the least. Jesus describes his relationship to God in a way that no human being in his right mind has ever come close to saying. He and the Father are in a relationship that is so intimate—one is in the other and vice versa—that to see Jesus is to see God. Indeed, earlier in John’s Gospel, Jesus declares, “I and the Father are one” (10:30).

 Notice too what Jesus says after “A new command I give you: Love one another”: “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35). Jesus did not give us religious criteria by which Christians would be known as his disciples. He doesn’t say, “You will be known as my disciples because you worship on Sundays, because you’ll carry your Bibles—the bigger the better.” No. “You will be known as my disciples because of how you relate to one another.” It is a relational criterion rather than religious criteria.

 So when we consider who we are as Christians we must first consider who God is. Thus, we must begin to think about relationality, which is at the heart of reality: three persons, who in some amazing, mysterious way constitute one God. Here in John and Luke Jesus tells us that the relationship with the Godhead will be the standard by which our love for one another would be measured. Not at the mega level, but at the micro level. Not when ten thousand people come and worship together, but when five people meet in our home for a Bible study—a neighborhood Bible study—and our neighbors begin to see that we truly love one another. Because when I wash your feet and you wash my feet, the watching world sees two imperfect people, yes, but who belong to Jesus Christ and reflect his love in relationship. By this all will know that we are his disciples.

 L.T. Jeyachandran is executive director of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Singapore.

Morning “Wait on the Lord.” / Psalm 27:14

It may seem an easy thing to wait, but it is one of the postures which a
Christian soldier learns not without years of teaching. Marching and
quick-marching are much easier to God’s warriors than standing still. There
are hours of perplexity when the most willing spirit, anxiously desirous to
serve the Lord, knows not what part to take. Then what shall it do? Vex itself
by despair? Fly back in cowardice, turn to the right hand in fear, or rush
forward in presumption? No, but simply wait. Wait in prayer, however. Call
upon God, and spread the case before him; tell him your difficulty, and plead
his promise of aid. In dilemmas between one duty and another, it is sweet to
be humble as a child, and wait with simplicity of soul upon the Lord. It is
sure to be well with us when we feel and know our own folly, and are heartily
willing to be guided by the will of God. But wait in faith. Express your
unstaggering confidence in him; for unfaithful, untrusting waiting, is but an
insult to the Lord. Believe that if he keep you tarrying even till midnight,
yet he will come at the right time; the vision shall come and shall not tarry.
Wait in quiet patience, not rebelling because you are under the affliction,
but blessing your God for it. Never murmur against the second cause, as the
children of Israel did against Moses; never wish you could go back to the
world again, but accept the case as it is, and put it as it stands, simply and
with your whole heart, without any self-will, into the hand of your covenant
God, saying, “Now, Lord, not my will, but thine be done. I know not what to
do; I am brought to extremities, but I will wait until thou shalt cleave the
floods, or drive back my foes. I will wait, if thou keep me many a day, for my
heart is fixed upon thee alone, O God, and my spirit waiteth for thee in the
full conviction that thou wilt yet be my joy and my salvation, my refuge and
my strong tower.”

Evening “Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed.” / Jeremiah 17:14

“I have seen his ways, and will heal him.”

Isaiah 57:18

It is the sole prerogative of God to remove spiritual disease. Natural disease
may be instrumentally healed by men, but even then the honour is to be given
to God who giveth virtue unto medicine, and bestoweth power unto the human
frame to cast off disease. As for spiritual sicknesses, these remain with the
great Physician alone; he claims it as his prerogative, “I kill and I make
alive, I wound and I heal;” and one of the Lord’s choice titles is
Jehovah-Rophi, the Lord that healeth thee. “I will heal thee of thy wounds,”
is a promise which could not come from the lip of man, but only from the mouth
of the eternal God. On this account the psalmist cried unto the Lord, “O Lord,
heal me, for my bones are sore vexed,” and again, “Heal my soul, for I have
sinned against thee.” For this, also, the godly praise the name of the Lord,
saying, “He healeth all our diseases.” He who made man can restore man; he who
was at first the creator of our nature can new create it. What a transcendent
comfort it is that in the person of Jesus “dwelleth all the fulness of the
Godhead bodily!” My soul, whatever thy disease may be, this great Physician
can heal thee. If he be God, there can be no limit to his power. Come then
with the blind eye of darkened understanding, come with the limping foot of
wasted energy, come with the maimed hand of weak faith, the fever of an angry
temper, or the ague of shivering despondency, come just as thou art, for he
who is God can certainly restore thee of thy plague. None shall restrain the
healing virtue which proceeds from Jesus our Lord. Legions of devils have been
made to own the power of the beloved Physician, and never once has he been
baffled. All his patients have been cured in the past and shall be in the
future, and thou shalt be one among them, my friend, if thou wilt but rest
thyself in him this night.

Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed.   Jeremiah 17:14

 It is the sole prerogative of God to remove spiritual disease. Natural disease may be instrumentally healed by men, but even then the honor is to be given to God who grants wisdom to doctors and bestows power to enable the human frame to cast off disease. As for spiritual sicknesses, these remain with the Great Physician alone; He claims it as His prerogative: “I kill and I make alive; I wound and I heal”;1 and one of the Lord’s choice titles is Jehovah-Rophi, “the Lord who heals you.” “I will heal your wounds” is a promise that could not come from the lips of man but only from the mouth of the eternal God.

On this account the psalmist cried unto the Lord, “Heal me, O LORD, for my bones are troubled,”2 and again, “Heal me, for I have sinned against you!”3 For this also the godly praise the name of the Lord, saying, “[He] heals all your diseases.”4 He who made man can restore man; He who was at first the creator of our nature can re-create it. What a transcendent comfort it is that in the person of Jesus “the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily.”5

My soul, whatever your disease may be, this Great Physician can heal you. If He is God, there can be no limit to His power. Come then with the blind eye of darkened understanding; come with the limping foot of wasted energy; come with the disabled hand of weak faith, the fever of an angry temper, or the fit of shivering despondency; come just as you are, for He who is God can certainly restore you. No one can restrain the healing power that proceeds from Jesus our Lord. Legions of devils have attempted to overcome the power of the beloved Physician, and never once has He been hindered. All His patients have been cured in the past and shall be in the future, and you may be counted among them, my friend, if you will but rest yourself in Him tonight.

1Deuteronomy 32:39 2Psalm 6:2 3Psalm 41:4 4Psalm 103:3 5Colossians 2:9

Family Reading Plan   Ezekiel 2   Psalm 38

Hanging above the door in our house, my mother’s favorite plaque constantly reminded us, “Prayer changes things.” From an early age, I witnessed this powerful truth through her example. She’d tell me about some difficulties she was facing and then have me pray about them with her. And later, she’d always be sure to give God the glory when sharing the awesome news that He had answered those prayers.

Indeed, this is our confidence: Anything we pray for that aligns with the Father’s plan will be granted. And the more time we spend with Him, the more we’ll come to understand His will and how to pray for it.

Remember, prayer doesn’t change God’s mind, but it does transform the believer’s heart. Some requests are granted immediately, simply because we asked with the realization that our Father loves to give us good gifts. Other requests may require time or certain divine preparations before they can be given. We, meanwhile, must simply be diligent to persevere in prayer.

Whatever the Lord’s response or timing, we trust that He has only the very best in store for His children. That means we might not receive exactly what we’re asking for, but something even better. Such is God’s great pleasure, for He alone perfectly knows each heart’s desire and wishes to fulfill it.

Our most powerful tool for shaping the world and lives around us is always available. Prayer lets us witness God’s hand in any situation. And as we give attention, time, and perseverance to conversation with Him, we find no limit to what He can achieve in people’s hearts and circumstances.

 It’s been a while since I’ve picked up a dictionary, literally at least. I do most of my looking-up online or by phone. But my computer was already shut down for the day, I couldn’t find my phone, and for once it seemed faster to use a book for the task. I can’t remember the word I was hunting for now, in fact, I think I stopped hunting soon after opening the book. As I pulled the giant dictionary off the shelf and opened its pages to the general vicinity of the S’s, I was stopped in my tracks by a piece of paper that fell out. 

In his familiar mechanical script (block lettering and always in pencil) my dad had carefully scratched a word on a torn off corner of paper. His handwriting immediately caught my eye, but it was he himself that seemed to leap off the page. I had forgotten the dictionary was even his, landing on my shelves posthumously. But I was immediately filled with a sense of somber mystery: What was he up to? Why was this word on his mind? Did he hear it somewhere and quickly scribble it down to look up later? Was he researching something or was he just curious? His thoughts, however ordinary they may have been, seemed wonderful, fueled by the sense that I was somehow on his trail; or at least a trail he had once been on. The word was one I’d never heard before. As I looked it up, it felt as if he was peering over my shoulder.  

I have been stopped in my tracks similarly by the presence of God. Like a forgotten slip of paper that lands in my hands, God’s handwriting suddenly appears in unlikely places, reminding me of the Spirit’s presence, the Son’s hand in a difficult situation. These are the kind of moments that wake me up. Stumbling across evidence that God is in the room, spaces in my minds long anesthetized by sin or stuff or self are given a sobering thought: God is here, and I didn’t even know it.   

As Jacob rested midway on a long journey, he saw in a dream a stairway resting on the earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. The Lord was standing above the stairway, and he said to Jacob: “I am the LORD, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac… I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”(1) It was for Jacob a dream that woke him to the possibility that though far from home, on his own in the wilderness—kept company only by thoughts of a brother who wanted to kill him—he was not alone. The account in Genesis continues, “When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, ‘Surely the LORD is in this place, and I was not aware of it.’ Then he was afraid and said, ‘How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven.'” In a desperate place, the faith of his fathers’ became his own. 

The psalmist knew well what Jacob discovered in the woods, no doubt from his own startled encounters: “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.”(2) What if God is here though you are not aware of it? What if Christ walks beside you unrecognized? When you stumble across the evidence, like Jacob and the psalmist, I hope you are moved to praise.  “How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!”

In one word, I was reminded that my father, whose absence is often the mark I see most clearly, has left his signature throughout my life, in this case literally. How much more so God moves through our lives, engraving our names on the palms of Christ’s hands, pursuing us through sin and selfishness, longing for us to see the evidence that God is in the room. 

Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

(1) Genesis 28:13-17. 

(2) Psalm 139:7.

Morning “Have mercy upon me, O God.” / Psalm 51:1

When Dr. Carey was suffering from a dangerous illness, the enquiry was made,
“If this sickness should prove fatal, what passage would you select as the
text for your funeral sermon?” He replied, “Oh, I feel that such a poor sinful
creature is unworthy to have anything said about him; but if a funeral sermon
must be preached, let it be from the words, Have mercy upon me, O God,
according to thy lovingkindness; according unto the multitude of thy tender
mercies blot out my transgressions.'” In the same spirit of humility he
directed in his will that the following inscription and nothing more should be
cut on his gravestone:–

William Carey, Born August 17th, 1761: Died – –
“A wretched, poor, and helpless worm
On thy kind arms I fall.”

Only on the footing of free grace can the most experienced and most honoured
of the saints approach their God. The best of men are conscious above all
others that they are men at the best. Empty boats float high, but heavily
laden vessels are low in the water; mere professors can boast, but true
children of God cry for mercy upon their unprofitableness. We have need that
the Lord should have mercy upon our good works, our prayers, our preachings,
our alms-givings, and our holiest things. The blood was not only sprinkled
upon the doorposts of Israel’s dwelling houses, but upon the sanctuary, the
mercy-seat, and the altar, because as sin intrudes into our holiest things,
the blood of Jesus is needed to purify them from defilement. If mercy be
needed to be exercised towards our duties, what shall be said of our sins? How
sweet the remembrance that inexhaustible mercy is waiting to be gracious to
us, to restore our backslidings, and make our broken bones rejoice!

Evening “All the days of his separation shall he eat nothing that is made of the vine
tree, from the kernels even to the husk.” / Numbers 6:4

Nazarites had taken, among other vows, one which debarred them from the use of
wine. In order that they might not violate the obligation, they were forbidden
to drink the vinegar of wine or strong liquors, and to make the rule still
more clear, they were not to touch the unfermented juice of grapes, nor even
to eat the fruit either fresh or dried. In order, altogether, to secure the
integrity of the vow, they were not even allowed anything that had to do with
the vine; they were, in fact, to avoid the appearance of evil. Surely this is
a lesson to the Lord’s separated ones, teaching them to come away from sin in
every form, to avoid not merely its grosser shapes, but even its spirit and
similitude. Strict walking is much despised in these days, but rest assured,
dear reader, it is both the safest and the happiest. He who yields a point or
two to the world is in fearful peril; he who eats the grapes of Sodom will
soon drink the wine of Gomorrah. A little crevice in the sea-bank in Holland
lets in the sea, and the gap speedily swells till a province is drowned.
Worldly conformity, in any degree, is a snare to the soul, and makes it more
and more liable to presumptuous sins. Moreover, as the Nazarite who drank
grape juice could not be quite sure whether it might not have endured a degree
of fermentation, and consequently could not be clear in heart that his vow was
intact, so the yielding, temporizing Christian cannot wear a conscience void
of offence, but must feel that the inward monitor is in doubt of him. Things
doubtful we need not doubt about; they are wrong to us. Things tempting we
must not dally with, but flee from them with speed. Better be sneered at as a
Puritan than be despised as a hypocrite. Careful walking may involve much
self-denial, but it has pleasures of its own which are more than a sufficient
recompense.

All the days of his separation he shall eat nothing that is produced by the grapevine, not even the seeds or the skins.   Numbers 6:4

 Nazirites had taken, among other vows, one that debarred them from the use of wine. In order that they might not violate the obligation, they were forbidden to drink the vinegar of wine or strong liquors; and to make the rule even clearer, they were not to touch the unfermented juice of grapes, nor even to eat the fruit either fresh or dried. In order to secure the integrity of the vow, they were not even allowed anything that had to do with the vine; they were, in fact, to avoid the appearance of evil.

Surely this is a lesson to the Lord’s separated ones, teaching them to come away from sin in every form, to avoid not merely its grosser shapes but even its spirit and likeness. Such strict walking is much despised in these days, but rest assured, dear reader, it is the safest and happiest path. He who yields a point or two to the world is in fearful peril; he who eats the grapes of Sodom will soon drink the wine of Gomorrah. A little crevice in the seawall in Holland lets in the sea, and the gap soon swells until a province is drowned.

Worldly conformity, in any degree, is a snare to the soul and makes it more and more liable to presumptuous sins. The Nazirite who drank grape juice could not be completely certain whether or not it had fermented and consequently could not be clear in heart that his vow was intact. In a similar way the yielding, vacillating Christian cannot have a clear conscience but is constantly aware of his double standard. Doubtful things we need not wonder about; they are wrong for us. Tempting things we must not play with, but run from them speedily. Better to be sneered at as a Puritan than to be despised as a hypocrite. Careful walking may involve much self-denial, but it has pleasures of its own that are more than a sufficient reward.

Family Reading Plan    Ezekiel 1   Psalm 37

 Gallery statistics report that the average time a person spends looking at a particular work of art is three seconds. To those who spend their lives caring for the great art museums of the world, I imagine this is a disheartening sight to behold day after day. It would have been interesting to hear the thoughts of the St. Petersburg curators who watched as Henri Nouwen sat before Rembrandt’s Return of the Prodigal Son for more than four hours. 

 I wonder how often I am more like the three-second viewer than a captivated Nouwen, moving through every sight of the day with my eyes barely open. How often might I be surrounded by the presence of God, but unaware and unseeing—missing, in my absence, the bigger picture? One of my favorite poems begins with the lines, “Lord, not you, it is I who am absent.”(1)     

The parable of the prodigal son is typically understood as a story that speaks to those who feel they have wandered away from God in belief or obedience. Or it is perhaps a story we apply to a specific time in our lives—a momentous return to faith, a homecoming back to the church, a particular event that caused us to remember God’s mercy personally and powerfully. The phrase “prodigal son” is in fact so well known that even void of its spiritual context it is employed to suggest a return to rightness after a time of foolishness. It is a parable that at one time or another describes many of us. Perhaps it is also a parable that describes us daily.  In the daily struggle to see, the constant battle to be present and conscious of the presence of God in this place, we all come and go like prodigals.

 The parable tells us that the wayward child had a plan for returning to his father’s house: he would confess his sin against heaven and against his father, and then he would ask to be treated as one of the hired servants. He would work his way back into his father’s life. But the father doesn’t even give him a chance to fully present the offer. Upon seeing his son, he says to his slaves, “‘Quickly bring out the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet; and bring the fattened calf, kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.'”(2) With every symbol of restoration, the father who was waiting embraces the son who was lost. 

 Gripped by the intensity of the massive painting before him, Henri Nouwen found himself becoming “more and more part of the story that Jesus once told and Rembrandt once painted.” Yet in Rembrandt’s painting we do not find the father eagerly rushing out to greet his wayward son as it is described in the Gospel of Luke. Rather, viewers find stillness; we find the parable’s characters at rest.  Rembrandt slows flickering minds to the scene that captures a thousand words for a daily walk in faith: “Lord, not you, it is I who am absent.” In this scene, the son has returned, and he is kneeling before his father in his ragged shoes and torn clothes exactly as he is: the one who insisted upon defining himself apart from his father, the one who was absent. In pursuit of life beyond his father, the child lost sight of life itself. 

 In the parable of the prodigal son, Jesus bids us to slow down and be present, to taste and see, to be still and know: the Father is near. God is here, though we are absent. The Father waits, though we put off Him off. God grieves over our wandering hearts and minds, moving in grace to embrace those who long to see. God is a God who runs to greet his wavering child, and it is a sight to behold always. 

 Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

 (1) Denise Levertov, “Flickering Mind,” The Stream and the Sapphire (New York: New Directions, 1997), 15.
(2) Luke 15:22-25.

Morning “How long will it be ere they believe me?” / Numbers 14:11

Strive with all diligence to keep out that monster unbelief. It so dishonours
Christ, that he will withdraw his visible presence if we insult him by
indulging it. It is true it is a weed, the seeds of which we can never
entirely extract from the soil, but we must aim at its root with zeal and
perseverance. Among hateful things it is the most to be abhorred. Its
injurious nature is so venomous that he that exerciseth it and he upon whom it
is exercised are both hurt thereby. In thy case, O believer! it is most
wicked, for the mercies of thy Lord in the past, increase thy guilt in
doubting him now. When thou dost distrust the Lord Jesus, he may well cry out,
“Behold I am pressed under you, as a cart is pressed that is full of sheaves.”
This is crowning his head with thorns of the sharpest kind. It is very cruel
for a well-beloved wife to mistrust a kind and faithful husband. The sin is
needless, foolish, and unwarranted. Jesus has never given the slightest ground
for suspicion, and it is hard to be doubted by those to whom our conduct is
uniformly affectionate and true. Jesus is the Son of the Highest, and has
unbounded wealth; it is shameful to doubt Omnipotence and distrust
all-sufficiency. The cattle on a thousand hills will suffice for our most
hungry feeding, and the granaries of heaven are not likely to be emptied by
our eating. If Christ were only a cistern, we might soon exhaust his fulness,
but who can drain a fountain? Myriads of spirits have drawn their supplies
from him, and not one of them has murmured at the scantiness of his resources.
Away, then, with this lying traitor unbelief, for his only errand is to cut
the bonds of communion and make us mourn an absent Saviour. Bunyan tells us
that unbelief has “as many lives as a cat:” if so, let us kill one life now,
and continue the work till the whole nine are gone. Down with thee, thou
traitor, my heart abhors thee.

Evening “Into thine hand I commit my spirit: thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of
truth.” / Psalm 31:5

These words have been frequently used by holy men in their hour of departure.
We may profitably consider them this evening. The object of the faithful man’s
solicitude in life and death is not his body or his estate, but his spirit;
this is his choice treasure–if this be safe, all is well. What is this mortal
state compared with the soul? The believer commits his soul to the hand of his
God; it came from him, it is his own, he has aforetime sustained it, he is
able to keep it, and it is most fit that he should receive it. All things are
safe in Jehovah’s hands; what we entrust to the Lord will be secure, both now
and in that day of days towards which we are hastening. It is peaceful living,
and glorious dying, to repose in the care of heaven. At all times we should
commit our all to Jesus’ faithful hand; then, though life may hang on a
thread, and adversities may multiply as the sands of the sea, our soul shall
dwell at ease, and delight itself in quiet resting places.

“Thou hast redeemed me, O Lord God of truth.” Redemption is a solid basis for
confidence. David had not known Calvary as we have done, but temporal
redemption cheered him; and shall not eternal redemption yet more sweetly
console us? Past deliverances are strong pleas for present assistance. What
the Lord has done he will do again, for he changes not. He is faithful to his
promises, and gracious to his saints; he will not turn away from his people.

“Though thou slay me I will trust,

Praise thee even from the dust,

Prove, and tell it as I prove,

Thine unutterable love.

Thou mayst chasten and correct,

But thou never canst neglect;

Since the ransom price is paid,

On thy love my hope is stay’d.”

Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.  Psalm 31:5

These words have been frequently used by the godly in their hour of departure. We may profitably consider them this evening. The object of the believer’s interest in life and death is not his body or his possessions but his spirit; this is his choice treasure: If this is safe, then all is well. What is our physical condition compared with the soul?

The believer commits his soul to the hand of God; it came from Him, it is His own, He has until now sustained it, He is able to keep it, and it is fitting that He should receive it. All things are safe in Jehovah’s hands; what we entrust to the Lord will be secure, both now and in that day of days toward which we are hastening. It is peaceful living and glorious dying to rest in the care of heaven. At all times we should commit everything to Jesus’ faithful hand; then even if life should hang on a thread, and difficulties multiply like the sands of the sea, our soul shall live in safety and delight itself in quiet resting places.

“You have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God.” Redemption is a solid basis for confidence. David did not know Calvary as we do, but even as redemption cheered him, so our eternal redemption will sweetly console us. Past deliverances are strong guarantees for present assistance. What the Lord has done He will do again, for He does not change. He is faithful to His promises and gracious to His saints; He will not turn away from His people.

Though Thou slay me I will trust,

Praise Thou even from the dust,

Prove, and tell it as I prove,

Thine unutterable love.

Thou may chasten and correct,

But Thou never can neglect;

Since the ransom price is paid,

On Thy love my hope is stayed.

Family Reading Plan Lamentations 4   Psalm 35

 Matthew 6:25-34

Fear obviously produces anxiety, but it also creates chaos in our lives and even affects those around us.

• Fear stifles our thinking and actions. It creates indecisiveness that results in stagnation. I have known talented people who procrastinate indefinitely rather than risk failure. Lost opportunities cause erosion of confidence, and the downward spiral begins.
• Fear hinders us from becoming the people God wants us to be. When we are dominated by negative emotions, we cannot achieve the goals He has in mind for us. A lack of self-confidence stymies our belief in what the Lord can do with our lives.
• Fear can drive people to destructive habits. To numb the pain of overbearing distress and foreboding, some turn to things like drugs and alcohol for artificial relief.
• Fear steals peace and contentment. When we’re always afraid, our life becomes centered on pessimism and gloom.
• Fear creates doubt. God promises us an abundant life, but if we surrender instead to the

What are you afraid of–loss, rejection, poverty, or death? Everybody will face such realities at some point. All you need to know is, God will never reject you. Whether you accept Him is your decision.

The Bible tells us that God will meet all our needs. He feeds the birds of the air and clothes the grass with the splendor of lilies. How much more, then, will He care for us, who are made in His image? Our only concern is to obey the heavenly Father and leave the consequences to Him.

 On her deathbed an American author was said to have asked, “What is the answer?” Then after a long silence, she replied, “What is the question?” Whether you approach truth as something solid and knowable or hold the concept as an illusion, it seems a fitting place to start. What is the question? 

 Questions on our hearts and minds can range from cynical and devious to desperate and heartfelt. We might genuinely seek answers at certain points in our lives, while other times aiming more at testing the answerer. But this is nothing new. 

 Hearing of Solomon’s great fame and of his relation to the name of the LORD, the Queen of Sheba planned a trip to Jerusalem. With her royal entourage and queenly offerings, she brought all of the questions she wanted answered.  Whether she was coming to the king known as the wisest man in the world to test him with riddles and mysteries or coming with the hope of finding wisdom in a world of questions, we do not know. But the ancient account of the meeting in 1 Kings 10:3 reports of the queen’s interrogation and the king’s attempt at answering. “And Solomon answered all her questions; nothing was too hard for the king to explain” (1 Kings 10:3).

 In a world where we aren’t always sure what the questions are, or even that the answers can be something real, their interaction is significant. Whether the queen had questions behind her questions or venom behind her questions, Solomon treated her inquiries as reverently as he treated the queen herself. And the story conveys, “She was overwhelmed”—literally in Hebrew, “there was no more wind in her” (10:5).  The quickening insight of one whose wisdom came from God took her breath away. 

 Most of us are not known for reputations of unflinching wisdom and alluring opulence like King Solomon. And the shower of questions that presently berates Christianity often comes with heated words and intimidating contexts. More often than not it seems that Christians are the ones who are left overwhelmed. And yet the directive of the one they follow remains: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect” (1 Peter 3:15). In a world of loaded questions, it’s a task that easily becomes lost in arrogance or fear, defensiveness or dismissiveness.

 When Solomon first asked God for wisdom, he asked with a knowledge of God’s greatness and an understanding of his desperate need. He was far from perfect, but he seemed to understand that his own answers would fall short. “Give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong,” he prayed. “For who is able to govern this great people of yours?” (1 Kings 3:9). A Christian response to the questions on the hearts of the world—whether angry or earnest—grows out of a response to the heart of God. 

 Catching her breath, the queen left Solomon with a picture of a greater kingdom: “Praise be to the LORD your God, who has delighted in you and placed you on the throne of Israel” (10:9). The queen saw in Solomon the greatness of his God. She saw that it was his God who put him exactly where he was in life and in wisdom. And she saw in Solomon the evidence of God’s love for his servant and the people he ruled. 

 By God’s Spirit, whether the questions on our hearts and the questions of our world are known or unknown, voiced or unvoiced, we can hold in Christ an answer for the hope that is within us.    

 Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

Morning “I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.” / Song of Solomon 5:8

Such is the language of the believer panting after present fellowship with
Jesus, he is sick for his Lord. Gracious souls are never perfectly at ease
except they are in a state of nearness to Christ; for when they are away from
him they lose their peace. The nearer to him, the nearer to the perfect calm
of heaven; the nearer to him, the fuller the heart is, not only of peace, but
of life, and vigour, and joy, for these all depend on constant intercourse
with Jesus. What the sun is to the day, what the moon is to the night, what
the dew is to the flower, such is Jesus Christ to us. What bread is to the
hungry, clothing to the naked, the shadow of a great rock to the traveller in
a weary land, such is Jesus Christ to us; and, therefore, if we are not
consciously one with him, little marvel if our spirit cries in the words of
the Song, “I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved,
tell him that I am sick of love.” This earnest longing after Jesus has a
blessing attending it: “Blessed are they that do hunger and thirst after
righteousness”; and therefore, supremely blessed are they who thirst after the
Righteous One. Blessed is that hunger, since it comes from God: if I may not
have the full-blown blessedness of being filled, I would seek the same
blessedness in its sweet bud-pining in emptiness and eagerness till I am
filled with Christ. If I may not feed on Jesus, it shall be next door to
heaven to hunger and thirst after him. There is a hallowedness about that
hunger, since it sparkles among the beatitudes of our Lord. But the blessing
involves a promise. Such hungry ones “shall be filled” with what they are
desiring. If Christ thus causes us to long after himself, he will certainly
satisfy those longings; and when he does come to us, as come he will, oh, how
sweet it will be!

Evening “The unsearchable riches of Christ.” / Ephesians 3:8

My Master has riches beyond the count of arithmetic, the measurement of
reason, the dream of imagination, or the eloquence of words. They are
unsearchable! You may look, and study, and weigh, but Jesus is a greater
Saviour than you think him to be when your thoughts are at the greatest. My
Lord is more ready to pardon than you to sin, more able to forgive than you to
transgress. My Master is more willing to supply your wants than you are to
confess them. Never tolerate low thoughts of my Lord Jesus. When you put the
crown on his head, you will only crown him with silver when he deserves gold.
My Master has riches of happiness to bestow upon you now. He can make you to
lie down in green pastures, and lead you beside still waters. There is no
music like the music of his pipe, when he is the Shepherd and you are the
sheep, and you lie down at his feet. There is no love like his, neither earth
nor heaven can match it. To know Christ and to be found in him–oh! this is
life, this is joy, this is marrow and fatness, wine on the lees well refined.
My Master does not treat his servants churlishly; he gives to them as a king
giveth to a king; he gives them two heavens–a heaven below in serving him
here, and a heaven above in delighting in him forever. His unsearchable riches
will be best known in eternity. He will give you on the way to heaven all you
need; your place of defence shall be the munitions of rocks, your bread shall
be given you, and your waters shall be sure; but it is there, there, where you
shall hear the song of them that triumph, the shout of them that feast, and
shall have a face-to-face view of the glorious and beloved One. The
unsearchable riches of Christ! This is the tune for the minstrels of earth,
and the song for the harpers of heaven. Lord, teach us more and more of Jesus,
and we will tell out the good news to others.

The unsearchable riches of Christ.  Ephesians 3:8

My Master has riches beyond the calculation of arithmetic, the measurement of reason, the dream of imagination, or the eloquence of words. They are unsearchable! You may look and study and ponder, but Jesus is a greater Savior than you think Him to be even when your thoughts are at their best. My Lord is more ready to pardon than you are to sin, more able to forgive than you are to transgress.

My Master is more willing to supply your needs than you are to confess them. Do not tolerate small thoughts of the Lord Jesus. When you put the crown on His head, you will only crown Him with silver when He deserves gold. My Master has riches of happiness to bestow upon you now. He can make you to lie down in green pastures and lead you beside still waters. There is no music like His music that He, the Shepherd, plays for His sheep as they lie down at His feet. There is no love like His; neither earth nor heaven can match it. To know Christ and to be found in Him is real life and true joy. My Master does not treat His servants meanly; He gives to them the way a king gives to a king. He gives them two heavens—a heaven below in serving Him here, and a heaven above in delighting in Him forever.

His unsearchable riches will be known best in eternity. On the way to heaven He will give you all you need. He will defend you and provide for you en route, but it will be at the end of your journey when you will hear the songs of triumph, the shouts of salvation, and you will have a face-to-face view of the glorious and beloved One. “The unsearchable riches of Christ”! This is the tune for the minstrels of earth and the song for the musicians of heaven. Lord, teach us more and more of Jesus, and we will declare the good news to others.

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 51  Psalm 30