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- Written by: Don Goulding
… the head steward tasted the water that had been turned to wine, not knowing where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew) … (John 2:9)
Jesus changes me into wine. Not tasteless water, but heady, sweet wine—cranberry-red, party enlivening liquor.
Like the servants at the wedding in Cana, my job is to fill the jars with water. I pour in a few buckets of kind words, and whatever generous acts I can muster. I often spill and leave the jars half full. It’s nothing miraculous as I struggle to dump in faithfulness during trials. Mine are quite unremarkable contributions.
Then Jesus comes to the party. There are no flashes of supernatural light, no angels singing the Hallelujah Chorus, but he turns my water into wine. I can’t name the exact moment of transformation. At some point, he simply raises a brow, or bends a smile, and my haphazard obedience is changed into the effervescence of love. My countenance sparkles with robust joy, finished in peace, and with hints of generosity. Heaven applauds and angels want a taste.
Like the wedding servants, only I know where the wine comes from. I’m certain that it’s nothing but a watered-down belief that I pour into the jars. Jesus causes the transformation. I can no more claim authorship of the beauty in my life than the servants in Cana claimed to be winemasters. They knew that turning the water into wine was all Jesus’s doing. I know that turning my callus heart into one of loving kindness is all Jesus’s doing.
I still have a few containers of plain water—trials that plague me. My assignment is to top the jars with faithfulness—and wait. The day will surely come when those, too, will be distilled into glory.
Prayer: Blessed Lord Jesus, make me into wine.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
God is in heaven and you are on earth!
Therefore, let your words be few. (Ecclesiastics 5:2)
What would we think of a bossy bee?
“And there’s a human. Buzzy, buzz. Humans are fat larvae of bees from outer space. Buzz. You over there, hold your antennae like mine. Buzz. Our queen is foolish. She ought to listen to me. Buzzy, buzz.”
With so many billions of bees on the earth, I’m afraid I’d be tempted to squash this one.
I used to be important, and everyone listened to me, or so I thought. Then God broke the illusion. The business I owned was the wind in my pride. The enterprise failed and my sail hung flat. I decided to sell my belongings in readiness for the mission field. No one wanted my lifetime accumulation of stuff, and heaps went to the dump. One night I lay under the stars in southern Africa, and realized there was another half to the Milky Way.
My business acumen is negligible, my possessions are meaningless, and my grasp of the cosmos is laughable.
In spite of my minuscule place in a gigantic universe, I preach earthly views on everything from politics to dietary advice.
“Our president makes stupid mistakes, buzzy, buzz.” “You there, don’t read your Bible like that. Here, watch me. Buzz.” “Organic, you should only eat organic, and use probiotics. Plus antioxidants to cleanse of free radicals. Buzzy, buzz.”
Whew. I get tired of hearing me, you must be bored silly. And heaven hears my boldfaced spewing.
The only opinions I need to hang onto are those from God himself. His truth, and his truth alone, has any grain of importance. Therefore, if what I have to say is not from him, and plainly endorsed by Scripture, I’ll endeavor to keep my little bee mouth shut.
Prayer: Mighty God, you awe me into silence.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Therefore, if you have been raised with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Keep thinking about things above, not things on the earth, for you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God. (Colossians 3:1-3)
A soprano organ note rings clean and true. It is followed by climbing and falling notes that swing our heart with a joyful melody. Simultaneously, a low note reverberates to introduce a different phrase. The two strains soar and dip, independent of each other, to create counter tension. J.S. Bach was the master of this polyphony—layering separate melodies into one piece. His Little Fugue in G minor is a classic example.
The kingdom of heaven plays its perfect music for our earth. The subtle melody carries us into the clouds. Notes climb the scale, peak with a sustained chord, then cascade down again. We drink in the beautiful tune, and lesser cares dissipate into shadows.
A bass tone jumps out from the world to vibrate our chest. A second brazen melody runs forward, drowning heaven’s crystalline refrain. The new phrase is seductive and repetitive. Oddly, its part of the same song, but its melody has little to do with heaven’s theme.
Two melodies, one song, different goals. The notes of God’s kingdom sing of joy, peace, and truth. When I let that chorus move me, the ways of heaven govern. Every Bible promise comes true—salvation, healing, eternal prosperity.
The pounding notes of the world shout “self” over and over. It’s a crude ditty, but it serves a vital purpose. The counter tension of life is carried in the earthly notes. They contrast with the majesty of heaven, intensifying its bliss. Without the abasement of sin, the remedy of Christ would be less euphoric.
Earth’s counter strain is necessary, but it’s not the primary melody. It’s not the music I want my dance to follow. I must separate the two refrains, and focus on the one above.
Prayer: Almighty Jesus, help me move to your melody today.