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Devotions Archive

Do I Really Need To Do My Part?

When you hear the word "construction crew," what do you picture? Big burly builders in hard hats? Perhaps a guy with a clipboard who seems to know what he's doing, and everyone else just getting in the way?

That's not what we see in Nehemiah. When the rebuilding of Jerusalem's wall began, the "crew" was... everyone. Goldsmiths. Perfume makers. Priests. Merchants. Dads. Daughters. People probably more familiar with frying pans than hammers. Chapter 3 reads like a holy roll call of ordinary folks doing an extraordinary thing: obeying God and working side by side.

And right in the middle of all that enthusiasm, we bump into one sad little line:

"And next unto them the Tekoites repaired; but their nobles put not their necks to the work of their Lord." - Nehemiah 3:5

Everyone else is shoulder-to-shoulder, sweating in the sun, stacking stones for the glory of God. But the nobles of Tekoa are standing off to the side.

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Choosing the Swine Over the Savior?

In Mark chapter five, we find one of the most dramatic scenes in all of Scripture. Jesus and His disciples have just stepped off a boat onto the shore of the Gadarenes, and before the disciples can even shake the sea spray off their sandals, a wild man comes screaming out of the tombs. We're talking wild! No clothes. No chains strong enough to hold him. Living among the dead, and cutting himself day and night. The people of the region had given up on this man. He was a lost cause. A hopeless case. But Jesus? Jesus didn't even flinch.

In the blink of an eye, the Lord cast out a legion of demons. The man who had terrorized the countryside was suddenly sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. It was the miracle of the ages. The townspeople should have been throwing a party!

But here's where the story gets strange...well, stranger.

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When Cover-Ups Crack

In 1173, construction began on what was supposed to be a magnificent bell tower in Pisa, Italy. Nobody planned on building a landmark. But about five years in, the foundation, a mere three meters deep, set in soft, unstable soil, began to shift. The tower started to lean, and the builders panicked.

Here's the part that really gets me: instead of stopping, tearing it down, and starting over with a proper foundation, they kept building. As they added more floors, engineers in later stages constructed one side of each story shorter than the other, trying to compensate for the lean and make everything look right from a distance. The problem was that this "fix" only made things worse. The added weight increased the lean. The tower ended up not just tilting but curving until it was bent like a banana, leaning and warped. Over the following centuries, engineers tried everything to correct the disaster, including counterweights, steel cables, soil extraction, drainage wells, and concrete foundation pillars. The final stabilization project alone cost over thirty million euros and took ten years to complete.

All because nobody was willing to stop and fix the real problem at the beginning.

Sound familiar?

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Are You Killing Yourself Trying To Be Perfect?

I used to be the world's most dedicated perfectionist. I'm talking full-blown, no-holds-barred, sweat-through-your-shirt perfectionism. And I had Bible verses to back it up … or so I thought.

"And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men." — Colossians 3:23

I latched onto that word heartily and ran with it. Right off a cliff. In my mind, "heartily" meant perfectly. It meant excellence at every turn, spotless execution, and absolutely zero margin for error. Good enough? Not good enough. Better than good? Still not good enough. I was the woman who proofread her grocery list. Twice.

I toiled. I panicked. I cried. I expected the same impossible standard from everyone around me, too, and trust me, they were not fans of that. I was building my whole life around a perfectionism that I had somehow convinced myself was holiness.

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Is Your Bible Gathering Dust on the Shelf?

I'll be honest with you, I've read through a passage of Scripture, nodded my head like a wise owl, and thought Got it. Memorized. Filed away, then moved on to the next chapter. Check. Done. Spiritual duty accomplished.

But here's the thing that rattled my cage when I finally understood it: the Bible isn't a textbook. You don't read it once, ace the exam, and shelve it next to your old college notes. It's not that kind of book. It's not really even a book in the way we normally think of books. It's alive.

Don't take my word for it. Take God's.

"For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." — Hebrews 4:12

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