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- Written by: Don Goulding
See that you do not disdain one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven. (Matthew 18:10)
On our last day in India, our team visited an orphanage in Chennai. Fourteen freshly bathed children met us at the gate and handed each of us a rose.
The grade schoolers pleaded, “Uncle, come sit by me.”
“Aunty, over here, please sit between us.”
They pumped love into us from their eyes.
The day before, there were fifteen children, but one was sent to the terminal care center. These were AIDS orphans, and they knew they had little time on earth. They were shunned by their community, lived in faith for their next meal, and had their life expectancy hacked short.
It didn’t matter to the orphans that the world had wrung them of life. They were connected to the face of their heavenly Father and amply supplied with what really mattered. We had first world wealth, experiences they couldn’t imagine, and education on a host of subjects—and they gave to us. These were spiritual giants, magnates of unlimited resources who tossed out fortunes of goodwill as though it cost them nothing.
The words of Jesus shouted from the pages of Revelation, … you say, “I am rich and have acquired great wealth, and need nothing,” but do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked. He says that about me and the people I live among, not about the orphans of Chennai.
The kids were a living motto—Joy for what is, without a care for what is not. I need that kind of trust in my life. Our visit made me realize that from my place of impoverishment of heart, I must look up to the shining orphans of Chennai.
Prayer: Father of the fatherless, make me rich in spirit like them.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Command those who are rich in this worldʼs goods not to be haughty or to set their hope on riches, which are uncertain, but on God who richly provides us with all things for our enjoyment. (1 Timothy 6:17)
The monkey watched from the safety of his branch as a man chained a clay jar to a tree. The man hid something colorful inside the jar and left. The monkey caught a sugary scent. He climbed down and reached a nimble hand to the candy. The mouth of the jar was too narrow to withdraw his closed fist, so, with his arm still inside, he dragged the pot toward the safety of his tree.
The chain clinked taut.
The monkey clamped his fist tighter around the candy and howled. The noise attracted the man, who slowly pulled the chain and the monkey toward a cage. The little animal refused to abandon his sweet prize. Instead, he screamed in panic. In that situation, what else could a monkey do?
“Let go,” the Lord says to me. “Open your hand from the things of the world and live in freedom.”
Jesus would have me be more intelligent than the monkey, yet I keep mental fists around popularity, health, comfort, my bank account—the list goes on. Like the monkey, I clamp down on my expectations of what I should get.
The devil’s chain is not long. While I grip temporal gifts, Satan draws me toward eternal imprisonment. The one breakable link between me and his hellfire is where my palm seizes earthly privileges. My only available option is to open my monkey fist and trust Jesus.
Prayer: Giving Lord, I set my hope on you alone.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
When the Son of Man comes in his glory and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. All the nations will be assembled before him, and he will separate people one from another like a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” (Matthew 25:31-34)
While en route to an outreach in southern India, our van detoured on a dirt road, and we found ourselves surrounded by a large flock of sheep mixed with goats. In temperate climates, sheep often don’t grow a fleece, and it isn’t easy to distinguish them from goats.
“The sheep carry their tails down. The goat’s tails are up,” one of the nationals informed us.
He sounded knowledgable but tails were twitching both ways.
As our driver tooted the hooter and inched through the brown swarm, I noticed several necks in the flock sporting personal collars. This was evidence that the shepherd knew each animal by name and would certainly know which ones were sheep or goats. The passengers gawking through the van windows proved unqualified to identify the animals.
When Jesus said he would one day separate the sheep from the goats, he compared the short-haired, Middle Eastern sheep of his time to goats. The two looked so much alike that only the shepherd was qualified to identify the species.
Every day my life intertwines with both saved sheep and damned goats, and I can’t tell them apart. It’s not my job. I act like a fool when I assume the Shepherd’s task of separating the blessed from the cursed. It’s a full-time task to sort out my heart, leaving me no time to categorize others.
My responsibility is to love everybody, no matter how goatish they seem, because the Shepherd may call them sheep.
Prayer: Mighty Judge Lord Jesus, forgive me for taking over your job.