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- Written by: Don Goulding
Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life because of me will find it. (Matthew 10:39)
Winter came to a close as sunshine warmed the soil after a rain shower. Moisture seeped into a dormant seed, and within days, a pale stalk pushed through the loam. In the night, the newborn plant was discovered by the eraser-of-a-nose on a young rabbit. Delicate whiskers twitched as the rabbit opened his tiny mouth, and chomped off the plant shoot.
A misty dawn found the rabbit still nibbling buds. In mid bite, a hawk snapped him into steely talons. The keen eyed bird was anxious to bring her prey to her downy eyas, frantic with hunger. But in her absence a falconer collected the chicks to train for sport hunting. He whisked them into the city, where his freckled son belted out, “I get the big one, I get the big one.”
It would seem for every creature, including man, that “the full exertion of all their faculties and all their energies is required to preserve their own existence and provide for that of their infant offspring” (A. R. Wallace). It’s the way of the food chain.
Jesus invites me to step out of nature, and forgo the struggle for physical life. He asks me to lose my life, sacrifice for others, and scorn personal advancement, so I can have life in the Spirit. He requires me to be more than an animal.
The true apex of the “Pyramid of Organisms” is where, by grace, my flesh succumbs to my spirit. And so, at the point where my old nature pushes through the loam, it must be chomped off, snatched up, and abducted. It must die, because my spirit only grows closer to God when there is death in the old me.
Prayer: Jesus, help me take my place at the head of creation by dying to self.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Lover: I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride; I have gathered my myrrh with my spice. I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey; I have drunk my wine and my milk. (Song of Songs 5:1) (NIV)
Jesus passed into the garden of heaven. Now he awaits union with those promised to him. That’s us. It’s tiny me. He satisfied himself on the bounty of paradise, and recovered from crucifixion. He is restored, fit, and ready for us.
Friends: Eat, O friends, and drink; drink your fill, O lovers. (Song of Songs 5:1) (NIV)
Angels watch our love and cheer us forward. “Go, rush into deep love.”
I slept but my heart was awake. (Song of Songs 5:2) (NIV)
On earth, my mind drags through the days in foggy slumber. But my heart is alert, straining for any whisper from my lover. Pacing the doorway, my spirit waits for his arrival.
Beloved: Listen! My lover is knocking: “Open to me, my sister, my darling, my dove, my flawless one.” (Song of Songs 5:2) (NIV)
I’m a flawless lover because he absorbed my every mark. I’m left spotless, able to give what he deserves.
Friends: How is your beloved better than others, most beautiful of women? (Song of Songs 5:9) (NIV)
Beloved: My lover is radiant and ruddy, outstanding among ten thousand. (Song of Songs 5:10) (NIV)
How is the lover of my heart worth devotion? Let me tell you who he is. He is the image of the invisible God. He is the creator of all things in heaven and on earth. He holds everything together, right now.
When sin corrupted what my lover made, he was not bested. He sacrificed his life to reclaim creation. Peace reigns in me, because he placed himself under my sin mucked foot. He became the first of many to overcome death. He is the head of the living body of victors. The fullness of God dwells in Jesus, and together, they live in me.
Who is this lover of mine? He is the one who's perfection spills onto me so our hearts can entwine.
Prayer: Perfect one, you are outstanding among all the thousands.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Why are you depressed, O my soul?
Why are you upset?
Wait for God!
For I will again give thanks
to my God for his saving intervention. (Psalms 42:5)
As I mounted my bicycle, there was an extraordinary sunrise. Blood fire began above the hills, then it ignited the underside of charcoal clouds. A stab of crimson bled, north and south, along the horizon. Eventually, half of the morning sky hummed in electric fuchsia. The spectacle rushed into my eyes and filled my soul.
Then I plunged my bike into fog. The whole of life was confined to the few square yards my vision penetrated. My riding goggles clouded with dew, and there was little to remind me of God. Thought fragments haunted—the discord of a relationship, the weariness of battling, how cold I felt. Fear loomed. Would a commuter run me over?
I recalled that beyond the fog, the glorious sunrise was growing. I couldn’t see it, but it was there. Fog is a temporary vapor, just as Despair is a malignant spirit, earmarked for destruction. His blockage is brief and doesn’t change the brilliance of Jesus one iota. My hope in Christ will prevail, and Despair will be annihilated in the lake of burning fire. I win, he loses.
Jesus blazes on his throne of splendor. His white-hot love saturates heaven. Rays from this same luminance tinge our world to hint of what’s beyond. No matter what trial blocks my view, the radiance of Jesus is my present, and future, reality. How foolish, O my soul, that you are downcast from a bit of life fog.
Prayer: Lord, renew my burning hope through the burdens of life.