A Devotion May Be Someone's Only Bible

Faith & Family

Faith is a vital role in the family unit. It draws us together. Holds us tight. Binds us with the ties of God. Keeping faith in our families secures the values of Christ are embedded in our children

The Fellowship of the Spirit

After being betrayed by a close friend and let down by numerous others, the man became a recluse. He lived a lonely, solitary life separated from society. “I don’t need anyone,” he told himself—and anyone who dared to question—“not even God.”

The truth is that God did not create us to navigate this life alone. He created us for fellowship with Him and others. The Bible says two are better than one. That could mean a spouse, friend, family member, or co-worker. God knits hearts together so that we can live in community while helping, encouraging, and strengthening each other. Some say there is a direct link between our health and our relationships.

David had Jonathan, Ruth had Naomi, and Timothy had Paul. When we refuse to allow others into our lives, we are unfulfilled and incomplete. Before God created Eve as a helpmate for Adam, God declared that it was not good to be alone.

The Word for You Today says:

None of us can develop to our highest potential unless we’re plugged in to nurturing, life-giving relationships. The highest and best form of this relationship is referred to in Scripture as the “fellowship of the Spirit.” It’s not just a social, relational, or intellectual connection but a deep spiritual link that causes us to thrive.

Someone once said we should never stay where we’re simply tolerated; we should remain where we’re celebrated. Think of the people in your life. Do they cause you to thrive? If so, cherish and nourish those relationships. They are God’s gift.



TIMBER!

The world went quiet as the chainsaw wound down, the last revolutions of its roar echoing off the far ridge before disappearing into silence. For a few long seconds, the former majestic eighty-foot oak fought against the gravity tugging it back to earth. Then, with a moaning crack deep inside its trunk, it trembled and shifted on the thin hinge left by the chainsaw. The heavy trunk kicked high as the bulk of the tree slammed into the earth with a whoosh THUNK that vibrated up my legs from the soles of my shoes.

The ancient oak had probably been here on the ridge since the Civil War roared around it 161 years ago. But it was diseased, fatally so, and poised a danger to our home. It wasn't alone. Another oak, smaller and younger but just as fatally sick, was already prostrate across the yard. Also, several thick branches had stretched ominously toward the roof of the house.

The tree surgeons had swarmed over our trees, wielding their chainsaws like lightsabers as they pruned, cut, and cleared. Now, their work done, they packed away the tools of their trade in their somewhat battered white van and disappeared down the driveway and off the ridge.

Their work was done, but ours was just beginning. There was probably a cord of firewood scattered across the yard, but unfortunately, it was still in its original form. For the next several weekends—armed with chainsaws, handsaws, hatchets, axes, sledgehammers, and splitters—we worked to clean up the mess for the next several weekends. And gain firewood for the winter.

I hated seeing holes in the leafy tree canopy that had once covered our home. But I would have hated even more to see holes in our roof from dead limbs crashing to earth. Deadwood must be trimmed, and dead trees must be brought to earth.

In the same way I work to keep the trees in our yard healthy, God likes to prune me. And like most living things, I suppose I produce more fruit when pruned. Disappointment, grief, family troubles, loss, circumstances that seem unfair, jealousy, and worry over health problems are all rubbish the Lord likes to show me. Fortunately, His Word is so sharp it doesn't hurt much when He prunes.

If you have deadwood in your life, use our Father's help and His razor-sharp Word to prune it out. Then have yourself a nice bonfire.



A Great Find at the Bookmine

On a warm Florida fall day, my husband and I drove to Chamblin Bookmine to sell a box of books. Whenever I have a fair number of books to release, I start with Chamblin’s. Whatever they don’t take, I donate.

Because there were stacks of books from other customers ahead of us, the clerk asked if we would like to browse the store as we waited. I preferred to go outside to enjoy the sunshine, but I decided to take him up on his offer. I later realized the reason.

As my husband and I browsed the aisles of books, my hand eventually landed on a small book, Object Lessons from Nature, by Sylvia M. Mattson. I paused and leafed through the pages, noticing that the author used lessons about nature to teach lessons about Christ-centered living. 

Finding this little Jesus-filled book in Chamblin’s felt like finding a needle in a haystack. The store clerk later informed me they had just gotten this treasure in, and I knew it was there for me to encounter.

When we delight in seeking God daily with all our hearts, we can find Him in various ways. Sometimes even in small books in large bookstores.

Some ways we encounter God also create additional paths for connecting with Him. I am now journeying devotionally through Object Lessons from Nature, and God continues to give me sweet signs of His presence as I do.

Seconds into reading Lesson 1 on “The Smaller Plants,” a small leaf from a tree in my side yard landed directly over my heart. I don’t typically see the leaves dropping there. On the day I started reading the chapter entitled “Leaves”—because of the gloomy, cool weather—my eyes were suddenly drawn to the many leaves on my fall-themed tablecloth. Even indoors, God connected objects from nature with His presence.

The ways I encounter God are refreshing and fun to my spirit. I enjoy seeing Him in every little detail. If we want to find Him, all we need to do is take the time to seek Him daily.

Think of some ways you can seek God in your daily walk.



The Gifts of Detours and Roadblocks

A flagger once stopped me in a road construction zone. “Not again,” I muttered under my breath. “Why do I get stopped or detoured when running late?” Then I took a deep breath and detoured my thinking.

At nineteen, I worked as a flagger to put myself through college. Yes, I was one of them. Suddenly, like many things in life, I realized this was all a matter of perspective.

It’s easy to get resentful and wonder why things happen. Waves of frustration used to run through my veins when I was stopped by a flagger—back before I became one.

The truth is that detours and road construction signs symbolize the rebuilding of roads. Removing the worn, cracked pieces of asphalt and replacing them with smooth, uncracked highway surfaces makes our lives lovelier, although the process is often bumpy.

God uses the same process with our hearts. We all have places of despair and crustiness—chipped pieces that need remodeling. Sometimes, when life seems to be chipping away in chunks and cracking into pieces, our loving God is in the process of renewal, repair, and restoration.

Nowadays, I like to wave, smile, and bring flaggers cold drinks. I offer them gifts of gratitude. They are making the roads safe, smooth, and beautiful. We are blessed by new resurfacing.

Remember that sometimes, it’s easy to think of life’s detours and roadblocks as potholes. Instead, they are remarkable journeys to remodel and resurface the potholes of our hearts. 



Look at That Mountain

I shall never forget the day my five-year-old granddaughter, Amara—buckled safely in our booster car seat—looked out the window on her side of my car and exclaimed, “Nana, look at that mountain. I know God lives right behind it.”

I was headed north, and Pikes Peak, America’s mountain, was in full view from Amara’s window, facing west.

Curious about my granddaughter’s thoughts, I asked, “Amara, why did you say that?”

Without hesitation, she replied, “Because the mountain is so pretty.”

This majestic mountain boasts brilliant beauty for locals and visitors alike. I am drawn to its beauty daily. I never tire of gazing at her splendor. Even a five-year-old can be pulled into this mountain’s beauty, so much so that her thoughts voyage to God, her Creator.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? In this one of the Songs of Ascent, the psalmist lifts his eyes to the mountains and simultaneously wonders where his help comes from. He undoubtedly comprehends that the unmovable structures are vast, solid, and robust when he concludes his help comes from the Lord.

The Bible is full of incredible promises of help from God for those who hope and trust in Him. Daily, He forgives our sins and cleanses us from all unrighteousness. He grants eternal life to us through the sacrifice of His son, Jesus. Further, His love is unconditional, and He never leaves or forsakes us.

Whatever hardships, tragedies, or sorrows we face, God will calm our fears and shine His light into our dark holes, comforting us as only He can.

My granddaughter proclaimed God’s beauty in our Pikes Peak Mountain, the mountain that stands out above all the others in the front range of the Rocky Mountains. Even at a young age, she associated her Creator with its splendor.

Some of us may not live close to the mountains, but we can lift our eyes to the Lord for help with all trials we may face. Remember from where your help with daily living comes. 



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