We have two bodies as such. The physical body and our spiritual body. The Spirit is an important part of both. Giving our hearts to Christ brings that spiritual body into balance and therefore, helps us understand the ups and downs of the physical body – even accept them when others cannot.
We fear forgetting, of losing both our short and long-term memory. But the power of forgetting can be a powerful tool to help us advance and mature in our Christian growth.
Paul said we can only forget what has happened in the past. But we can also remember the past, dwell on it, recap the emotions some past experiences brought us, and be discouraged about our present and future plans.
Forgetfulness is a weakness—a human weakness. God doesn’t forget our sins; He chooses not to remember them when we confess them. And that is what forgetting is—choosing not to remember.
We will only choose to forget or not recall things when we realize the power of forgetting them. When we forget them, we have victory over them.
When we deliberately choose to forget something, we choose not to remember it. This is not referring to something that has slipped from our memory on its own but rather something we have deliberately pushed out and deleted from our memory for our own good.
Many people constantly recall painful events that happened to them many years ago. The people who caused their hurt have been dead for many years, but by remembering the event, they choose to let those things hurt them repeatedly. Deciding to forgive our offenders helps us move on with our lives. When we milk the past, we ruin our present and future.
We would be surprised how much more power, freedom, and liberty we would have to live for Jesus if we would forget “that which is behind.”
Don’t let the past rob you of power today and hinder your service to God.
After driving away from the rental car lot, my sedan started to shake. My grip tightened on the steering wheel. Had they given me a defective vehicle? Then the car steadied, and I continued on my way.
The next day, the same vibrations returned. I checked to see if I was hydroplaning, but the asphalt was dry. Finally, I figured it out. A safety feature shook the sedan when I crossed the dividing lines. From then on, I focused on the road to ensure I drove within my lane.
When I was young, my family instilled in me the importance of not veering from the road. Whenever my mom saw a driver straddling two lanes, she said, “Pick a lane.”
In the same way that we must stay in one lane for our well-being while driving, we must choose our direction in life. Though sometimes difficult, we must remain within the lines of the straight and narrow road. God doesn’t seek to confine us but to shield us from the sorrows that come when we get off His path.
This verse reminds us to hold unswervingly to our hope in Christ. If we always remain alert, we won’t stray. God will get us to where He wants us to go when we fix our eyes on Him. He is faithful in keeping His promises and leading us into abundant life.
Let’s not assume our vehicles have issues; instead, we should look for driver errors. Likewise, may we listen to God’s warnings when our lives quake. If you have moved outside His lanes of protection, obey His Word and return to the path of peace. God will enable you to remain diligent and stay on His road of righteousness.
In fear and trepidation, I pen a weekly collection of devotions—the Holy Spirit’s call to “be brave” encourages me. I post one blog at a time to the World Wide Web, like a lone balloon released into the air, set free to glorify God.
My mother urged me as a child to be brave when faced with stressful and difficult situations. I was discouraged from turning and fleeing from a challenge to meet new people, enter a competition, or jump off the high diving board. Everything and everyone intimidated me when I was young, but I gradually learned to take risks and leave my fears behind.
One summer, while attending the University of Cincinnati, I worked at Kings Island Amusement Park. At the end of my shift in the live-shows department, I hurried across the park to ride the Racer, a double wooden roller coaster. The fast, steep, curvy hills that enticed me and my co-workers often sent guests running in the opposite direction.
My brother, Robin, is a lifelong surfer. I rode his surfboard a few times as a teenager—enough for me. The waves that stir panic in most people are the ones he eagerly paddles out to catch. God calls us to be brave, like Robin, to climb up on the surfboard with Him and enjoy the ride.
Joyce Meyer wrote, “The best way to overcome anything is to expose it.” Shine the light of truth on your darkest fears. Choose to be brave; do the frightening thing you have feared if you must. Nothing can touch you outside of God’s perfect plan for your life.
I will be brave because God is my eternal stronghold, my light, and my salvation. I hope you will too.
“I have been reading biographies of the Grand Dames of the past,” my friend shared one day. “I emulate them. I, too, want to be remembered for my influential civil works. I want to be a Grand Dame.”
However, she was repeatedly hurt because no one seemed interested in acclaiming her. If she only knew the one who merits all the acclaim, she could cease her endless quest for self-glory and drink from God's river of life.
We live in a culture that exalts productivity and profit. As a Christian, I long for my hands, words, actions, and choices to benefit God’s kingdom. However, as I look at patterns in Scripture and consider my inner desires for recognition and success, I must reconsider what motivates my actions.
In the beginning, God created a river to nourish the beautiful garden of Eden. It branched into four different regions, each enriched by God. Two chapters after we read about that, we read of Cain murdering his brother, Abel. And further, that he was unrepentant. God exiled him, and Cain followed one of God’s rivers to establish a city for his glory.
After the flood, we see the same pattern. Although Nimrod, the great city builder, was a mighty hunter, he founded the wicked city of Babel on the Euphrates. Babel sought to raise its tower of self-glory, defiantly reaching toward heaven. People followed God’s life-giving waters while denying the Source. So, God scattered them, hoping they would seek Him anew.
God’s life-giving provision, lovingkindness, truth, and grace flow daily into our lives. We drink from His river of delights each time we fix our eyes on Jesus and pursue His glory instead of our own.
As you follow God’s living waters, ensure that you also pursue His glory.
“No, that’s not right. Do it this way.”
I had heard critical, cutting words for many years. My father was a short man—short on mercy, grace, and stature. His love was thin and hard, sporadic, and seldom spoken. When he did show love, it was on a grand scale, too grand to cover the daily paper cuts or the weekly “You’re never good enough.” It was an unmerciful love.
I learned the same hard love that ran a litany in my head: Protect yourself—always, at least on some level. Don’t show mercy because others will perceive it as weakness. Mercy makes you too soft to battle the brutal out there. And don’t make yourself vulnerable because you won’t survive the hard realities of unforgiveness.
Then, the day before Father’s Day, the first one after my father passed away, the Bible verse of the day caught me short with the juxtaposition of my father versus my heavenly Father: Be merciful, just as your father is merciful.
On some level, my father sought to teach me to be kind—but not merciful. Doing so creates a surface veneer of shallow civility rather than deep heart-level concern for God’s other children.
Then the Lord wooed me in the dark and desert places of a heart made lonely by the hard. He walked with me to a place of brokenness where the hard either became a brittle wall or where the mercy of the One who loves me best transformed me. I had a choice. Through prayer, I chose to believe God and take my father to the Father.
Unfortunately, it is still too natural and easy to pick up a brick to recreate that hard wall and retreat behind a bombed-out fortress rather than allow my heart to be merciful to others and myself. But when it rains in the desert of God’s making, the soil softens, mercy blooms, and a deluge of God’s mercy graces my heart.
Find ways to let the rain of your merciful Father keep falling in your life.