Carrying Light, Not Load
Yesterday, during my Bible study on animals in Scripture, I was certain the donkey would teach me a lesson about stubbornness. After all, isn't that what donkeys are famous for? But God had something entirely different and far more beautiful in store for me.
As I studied the account of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, it hit me like a thunderbolt. That little donkey wasn't chosen because of what he could carry but because of who he would carry. He wasn't meant to haul heavy burdens. He was meant to carry the Light of the World. And here's where it gets personal: we're just like that donkey.
How many times have I trudged through my days feeling like a pack mule, weighed down by worry, responsibility, and those endless "what-ifs" that plague my thoughts? I've rounded my shoulders under the weight of "should-haves" and stumbled over obligations that were never mine to bear. I've been so busy carrying the load that I forgot I was meant to carry the Light.
Fresh Mercies in the Morning Snow
Have you noticed how some of the most profound spiritual truths are hidden in the most ordinary moments? Like watching snow fall for the umpteenth time and suddenly seeing something you've never seen before?
We've been experiencing unusual weather here in mid-Wales since the start of the year. Each night we've had a snowfall, not heavy or majorly significant, but enough to wake up to a lovely blanket of snow covering the ground. The days have been very cold yet sunny, so by the end of the day, much of the snow has melted, allowing us to see the muddy pastures and the wet asphalt of our driveway again. Then, overnight, another snowfall would come and leave a blanket of snow on the ground, only to be met that day by sunshine that would melt it. This process has repeated over and over again for several days now.
Empty, But Not Really
Have you ever had one of those days when it feels like everyone is out to get you? I call them "Joseph days." You know, those days when your own siblings seem to be plotting your demise, stripping away your beautiful coat, and tossing you into a pit with no escape plan. Just me? Perhaps I’m being a bit dramatic, but I think we've all experienced our own version of Joseph's story.
Genesis 37 tells us that Joseph's brothers "took him, and cast him into a pit: and the pit was empty, there was no water in it" (verse 24). I've always found that description fascinating. The Bible specifically notes the emptiness of the pit. It was void, barren, and desolate…except for Joseph and God.
I wonder what Joseph thought as he sat in that dark hole. Did he cry out? Did he pound against the earthen walls?
When Giants Block Your Promised Land
Have you ever felt utterly deflated when facing an impossible situation? I admit I've felt that way numerous times. I know God is good. I know He can handle every problem. Yet, when negative circumstances surround me and deadlines loom before me, my faith grows weak, and my mind begins to doubt. When that happens, I often open my Bible to Numbers 13.
"And Caleb stilled the people before Moses, and said, Let us go up at once, and possess it; for we are well able to overcome it" (Numbers 13:30).
What courage! While ten spies spread fear about giants and walled cities, Joshua and Caleb saw the same challenges but reached a dramatically different conclusion. The Bible specifically mentions they had "another spirit" (Numbers 14:24). In modern terms, they had a different attitude, a different perspective.
What about you? What giants are you facing today?
The Final Word
I've always been fascinated by book endings. Some conclude with a dramatic flourish, while others drift quietly to their final page. There's something powerful about those last few words that linger after the cover closes. While some readers savor the journey page by page, I find myself eagerly anticipating how the author will tie everything together. After all, conclusions matter. They leave a lasting impression long after the story ends.
Recently, while preparing for a Bible study, I stumbled upon something remarkable about God's conclusions. Amid judgment pronouncements and difficult prophetic warnings, God rarely leaves His people without hope. Even in the darkest passages, a glimmer of promise often appears at the end.
Take the book of Joel, for instance.