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?
Prayer Works Better Than Worry
My daily devotions have been remarkably persistent lately. Trust God. Don't complain. Believe when things seem impossible. You know what that means, right? A test was coming!
Saturday was our annual community-wide family fun day, our biggest outreach event of the year. Picture bouncy houses, obstacle courses, carnival games, and excited children everywhere. It takes an army of volunteers to run each station smoothly.
As the coordinator, I'd been struggling with the volunteer roster. We were already at least two people short, forcing me to consider doubling up some staff. Several potential helpers responded with those dreaded words: "I might be able to help, but I can't commit."
The anxiety was building as the day approached. Then Friday evening, the phone rang. One of our core volunteers had a family crisis and needed to bow out. Completely understandable, but my heart sank. I took a deep breath, committed everything to God (again), and told myself I absolutely would not panic.
Are You an Attractive Christian?
I've noticed something fascinating this week. The rather unremarkable bush outside my bedroom window has undergone a complete transformation. For months, it has been nothing but a green backdrop. Sure, it was pleasant enough, but certainly nothing to write home about. Yet, seemingly overnight, it has erupted into a constellation of delicate white blooms.
What's even more intriguing is the response these blooms have generated. The bush that previously served only as a waiting room for the birds at the feeder has become the hottest gathering spot in the garden. Now, dozens of bees buzz excitedly around each blossom, their enthusiastic hum providing the soundtrack to my mornings. Large fuzzy bumblebees, sleek honey bees, and tiny wild bees that I can hardly identify all crowd the branches in a bustling community of activity.
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.
When Prayer Disappoints
"No, I don't believe in God, and if there is one, I don't want anything to do with Him."
The words were spoken with such anger that I paused before responding, but I couldn't ignore the urging from the Holy Spirit.
"May I ask why?" I inquired.
"Because I prayed just like I was taught, but God didn't answer. He didn't give me what I asked for. So either there isn't a God, or He's just not reliable."
My heart sank. This was not the first time I'd heard this reasoning for doubting God and His goodness. Since arriving in Wales, I've encountered this view repeatedly. How does the concept of prayer become so misconstrued? Where do people get the idea that God is merely a genie in a bottle, waiting to grant their every request? Sadly, it often starts in our pulpits.