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- Written by: Don Goulding
But now, ask the animals and they will teach you, or the birds of the sky and they will tell you. Or speak to the earth and it will teach you, or let the fish of the sea declare to you. Which of all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this … Job 12:7-9 (NETFull)
Clouds heaped themselves into billows, round on top, flat and gray on the bottom, and a tasteful hint of orange worn low on their hips. Standing apart from one another, they populated the sky, large overhead and small in the horizon. Besides their aesthetic appeal, each cloud was a scientific marvel of liquid particle suspension and solar light refraction. Whether any human took notice or not, they broadcast the glory of their Creator God.
Snow-white seagulls rode the breeze above a scalloped ocean. They wheeled about stabbing yellow beaks into the wind. Their wingtips banked left then corrected right. Each gull followed its whims but stayed inside the boundaries of the gathered flock.
Clouds, gulls, stars, dolphins—everything in our universe declares the majesty of Jehovah God because that’s the purpose of its existence.
Mankind is different. Created in God’s image, we are bequeathed with the freedom of choice. We can choose to glorify God with our lives or not. If I want to disregard the biblical standards of living and hurt others when it pleases me, I can. The primary consequences of my actions are deferred until the next era.
The game is on and the clock is ticking. I’m given a limited number of years to see what I’ll do with the divine gift of choice. One day, the tally will be totaled and recompense will arrive. For now, there is a great opportunity to stand with the rest of creation and glorify God.
Prayer: My blessed Creator, I join the animals, birds, and fish to praise you.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
… you are a letter of Christ, delivered by us, written not with ink but by the Spirit of the living God, not on stone tablets but on tablets of human hearts. (2 Corinthians 3:3 NET_FL)
The tablet of my heart seems like an impossible medium for Christ’s grand communication. How can he write anything in this infinitesimal space? My heart is a mere speck, a bit of grime stirred from the dust of the world and not fit to herald the King’s message.
Mote that I am, I hover in the radiance of Christ’s glory. It’s a testament to his grace that the Lord seeks out flecks like me. He converts a dust floater into a museum-quality object of beauty. Onlookers gasp in awe. The wonder is not in the speck but in the light that strikes it. Laud the white-hot pure light, seen where it ignites the lint.
That a grand-sized heart reflects the wonder of Jesus is a given but that I can—tiny me with my warts and hang-ups—is a miracle. After years of chasing purity, I realize the ugliness of sin is still in me and all the beauty of Jesus is there too. The coexistence of these polar extremes shouts a declaration.
The message God squeezes onto my minuscule heart tablet is this, “No one can possess the love you see here unless they have supernatural aid. It’s my Son, Jesus, who beams love onto this heart you are reading and we long to do the same for you.”
Prayer: Spirit of the living God, may everyone I meet today see you on my heart.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
But the one who practices the truth comes to the light, so that it may be plainly evident that his deeds have been done in God. John 3:21 (NETFull)
Vibrant-green crops of sugarcane flew past the windows of our van and school children were stricken in amazement at the sight of so many white people. The road ended hours later in the village of Nampiyumpetu, India. Every attempt to bring the gospel to these mountain people had been met with hostility—twenty years worth. Our bold plan was a free medical clinic but, by the time our team arrived, the doctors had seen most of the patients and were about to leave—an organizational disaster.
In a desperate effort, I grabbed the last feverish boy and explained the simple gospel. A crowd gathered to listen in, so my interpreter, Asher, and I stood and addressed the group. At end of the presentation, thirty-two adults signed decision cards and Asher’s father agreed to return weekly for follow up.
We had planned a medical clinic but God planted a church.
The events of mankind’s history—the Israelites, romanization, medieval kingdoms, industrialization, and my tiny life—are not the real story. They are merely a framework on which God weaves his masterful purposes. As happened in Nampiyumpetu, we make our gossamer plans while the Sovereign King works threads of silver and gold into elegant destinies.
The Holy One often involves his servants in miracles of reclamation, yet I can never be so foolish as to conclude they are sourced by me. I’m blind to most of what God accomplishes. Yes, I should be brave and step into the authority of Christ but I should also remain humble and aware it is always his party. I'm only the cardboard box used to deliver his invaluable gift.
Prayer: Mighty God, in the light of truth, it’s plain that you bring all goodness.