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Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by it the people of old received their commendation.  Hebrews 11:1 

When was the last time you heard something so outrageous that believing it felt almost foolish? God tells us that nothing is impossible for Him because He is God, and there is no other. I believe that easily enough in the abstract. But when the impossible enters my own story, unbelief suddenly becomes much more persuasive.

Humans cannot walk on water, yet Jesus did, and Peter stepped out to join Him. A sea does not divide to make a road, yet Israel walked through on dry ground. A leper does not dip seven times into a muddy river and emerge with new skin, yet Naaman did. And a man dead for three days does not walk out of his tomb. But Jesus did.

Faith does not deny what is humanly impossible. What might I be destined to experience if I left more room for the impossible?

Where has unbelief quietly eaten away at my expectancy? Where have I closed the eyes of my spirit because disappointment taught me not to hope too boldly? What have I accepted as permanently broken because I can imagine no earthly way for it to change? Faith doesn’t demand that God perform the miracle I prescribe. It leaves room for Him to be God, with my eyes wide open.

The resurrection changed forever what I am permitted to call hopeless. The same God who raised Jesus from the dead is at work in His children. That does not mean every grave I point to will open in the way I ask. It means no grave, no impossibility, and no ending is beyond His authority.

Perhaps some of what I call realism is unbelief that has learned respectable language.

Give me faith that never forgets who You are. Amen.

You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday. Psalm 91:6-7

In the original Hebrew, these verses speak of dangers both seen and unseen. Centuries before Jesus, Jewish translators rendering this Psalm into Greek used language that also reflected an awareness of demonic evil. The spiritual world was very real to them.

There is much to learn about the demonic, how darkness gains influence, why it seems more pronounced in some places than others, and how believers are to stand against it. But none of us needs to live afraid of dark spirits. If we understand the authority of Christ, we know that though darkness is real, it is not sovereign.

Having traveled extensively, I’ve stayed in all kinds of places, and every place has a history. Some have felt peaceful the moment I entered. Others have felt oppressive. Wherever terrible things have happened, there is a spiritual residue associated with what took place there.

Think of a hotel room and the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people who have stayed there. There’s no way to know everything that has transpired within those walls. So one of the first things I do after unlocking the door is pray. I speak Scripture, acknowledge the lordship of Jesus Christ, and ask Him to fill the room with His presence. I have spent enough fitful nights feeling inexplicably agitated to know that it’s imperative to pray rather than dismiss the uneasiness.

It is instinctive to fear enemies we cannot see, but God sees every one of them. He is a good Father who does not leave His children defenseless. In Christ, He’s given us every weapon to prevail. False bravado is out of places. So is a fascination with spiritual darkness. Satan is actually delighted with either. My confidence is not in how forcefully I pray but in the authority of the One whose name I carry.

The powers of darkness are not impressed by me. But they know Jesus.

Hidden in You, I am feared by Your enemies.  Thank you.  Amen

But when Isaac’s servants dug in the valley and found there a well of spring water, the herdsmen of Gerar quarreled with Isaac’s herdsmen, saying, “The water is ours.” Then they dug another well, and they quarreled over that also, so he called its name Sitnah. And he moved from there and dug another well, and they did not quarrel over it. So he called its name Rehoboth, saying, “For now the Lord has made room for us, and we shall be fruitful in the land.”  Genesis 26:19-22

If following Christ were easy, more believers might choose it. His markers are not always obvious. Sometimes guidance comes through peace and open doors. Other times, it comes through resistance, conflict, and the growing realization that I can no longer flourish where I am.

I wonder how discouraged Isaac became as he searched for a place to settle. Everywhere he tried to put down roots, something resisted him. Because water was essential for survival, Isaac re-dug the wells Abraham had once dug, the very wells the Philistines had deliberately filled with dirt. I can imagine his relief when water bubbled up again. But then the arguments began. Local herdsmen claimed the water as theirs. Only at the third well was there finally room enough to breathe. Isaac named it Rehoboth, saying, “Now the Lord has made room for us.” God did not guide Isaac only through blessing. He also guided him through constriction.

I have known seasons of this. There have been stopping points I tried desperately to make work because I believed God had led me there. When they became painful, I assumed I had misunderstood Him. I accused God of leading me somewhere only to make me unhappy. I second-guessed every step that had brought me there.

God can use cramped quarters to make staying more uncomfortable than leaving. He can use conflict to expose what I would otherwise tolerate indefinitely. Even the selfishness of other people can become part of His providence, not because He approves of their behavior, but because He is able to use what they do without scrambling to reorder His purposes for me.

Discomfort alone is not permission to leave. God sometimes asks me to remain and grow roots in hard soil. But there are other times when the walls keep narrowing, the conflict will not resolve, and something deep within me knows the grace for staying has lifted.

Thank you for propelling me out of my cocoon to travel on to ‘Rohobeth’. Amen

He will bless those who fear the Lord, both the small and the great.  Psalm 115:13

Our world prizes the strong, the noble, the talented. But our God is different. He dispenses special graces to those who are bruised and ready to break. He infuses spiritual energy into those whose light is faint and the fear of being extinguished overtakes them. He does not fear that they will be lost because He never takes His eyes off of them. He sees that hope has become, for them, a distant memory. He knows that it takes time for His Word to become an anchor for their souls.

If that is you, God has not forgotten you. He has always been a defender of the weak; a refuge for the needy, a protector of the frail. The greater your need, the greater will be your deliverance and the greater will be the glory of the Father.

There is something unique to each of us which could potentially threaten our strength. God watches it all. He views the events, externally, from every possible angle. He views how we’re coping, internally, and can predict how we’ll process what’s going to happen. He knows what conclusions we’ll make, the judgements we’ll render about ourselves, what we’ll come to believe about other people, and most importantly, what we’ll conclude about Him. Some of all of the above will be accurate but much will not. Sorrow skews our vision and exacerbates frailty.

God knows each small pathway, every detour, that has taken us down. His arrival to save is never late. He strengthens with a word, a song, a picture, a dream, a memory, a confirmation; such simple things which have great power to resurrect what appears to have died. Only He can customize a language of encouragement made for our ears. Whatever He communicates, even if just a single word, is a life preserver which pulls us into the land of the living.

My encouragement for today is a review of the many times I knew I’d break in two, but I didn’t, and it’s only because of what You did for my heart. Thank you. Amen

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” Hebrews 12:1

Before you read the Scripture, I suspect you saw the title and thought of computers, data, and storing digital information in “the cloud.” But another kind of cloud rises out of Hebrews 11—a cloud of witnesses. Who makes up this company? Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Sarah, Rahab, Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, and the prophets. What a gathering it would be if we could bring them together, in the flesh, and sit among them for an evening. How long would it take to ask everything on our minds, hear the parts of their stories Scripture leaves untold, and receive the wisdom they paid dearly to learn?

We can imagine their voices, can’t we? One of the themes in Michael Card’s writing is “reading the Bible with your imagination.” He encourages us to enter the stories, to wonder what these people feared, what moved them to obey, what they learned through failure, and what they discovered about God. As I revisit Hebrews 11 and the stories behind those names, I can almost hear some of their counsel.

Abel ~ “Build your own history with God. Faith cannot be inherited secondhand.”

Enoch ~ “When the culture around you grows darker, intimacy with God can still become the defining reality of your life.”

Noah ~ “Do not mistake God’s silence for His absence. Keep building what He told you to build.”

Abraham ~ “When obedience takes you to Moriah, trust the character of God when you cannot understand the command.”

Sarah ~ “Your unbelief does not have to be the final chapter. God can still bring promise out of the place where you once laughed.”

Jochebed ~ “There are moments when love must release what it cannot protect and trust God with what floats beyond its reach.”

Six voices from a multitude. Their circumstances differ, but their testimony converges. None of them followed God without fear, cost, waiting, or even momentary confusion. Yet each discovered that faithfulness on earth becomes a witness for generations not yet born.

Perhaps this is why their stories draw me in today. When my own faith becomes thin, I borrow courage from theirs. Their obedience tells me what is possible when ordinary people stake everything on the character of God.

And I have barely begun to mine their lives for gold.

Lord, give me courage to tell my own stories truthfully—the fear as well as the faith, the failures as well as the victories. What You teach me in secret may someday become strength for someone running behind me. Amen.

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.”  Psalm 28:7-8

Let’s talk about this big thing that overwhelms you; that thing you bring before God nearly every hour of the day. I know you wish it weren’t there, that He would reach out with one sweeping motion and remove it. You are frustrated that He does not, especially when all power is His. David reminds us that God is our strength and shield, our trustworthy helper. Yet there are seasons when His help does not look like help at all.

God told His people as they traveled toward Canaan, “Little by little I will drive them out before you, until you have increased enough to take possession of the land.” His purpose is not merely to remove what threatens you, but to enlarge you until you can inhabit what He is giving you. Slaying one giant at a time builds into your life what will be essential for the future. Never underestimate what is gained while walking with God through progress that comes in inches instead of miles.

God is not stingy, nor is His power limited. Sometimes it is His love that restrains His hand from rescuing you too quickly. Immediate deliverance might remove the problem while leaving you unchanged. He is after more than relief. He is forming strength, wisdom, endurance, and a deeper knowledge of Himself.

I rest in Your faithfulness and my invisible growth. Amen

 For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, so that you won’t grow weary and lose heart.  Hebrews 12:3

Jesus endured more hostility from others than you and I will ever experience.  He responded with unfathomable mercy, but also with a justice that prevails eternally.  We couldn’t have predicted his responses back then, nor should we try to guess how we should respond today.  We must take the hatred directed at us, along with the people who expressed it, and put it all in God’s hands.  He rules righteously with both justice and mercy, and only He can work His response through us in the power of the Holy Spirit.

“Having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.” Colossians 2:15  Jesus, through His death, dealt with the strategic levels of authority in the demonic realm.  He publicly humiliated Satan.  How did Jesus celebrate victory?  Perhaps the answer lies in the context of ancient Roman customs.  The victor was placed in a chariot drawn by a white horse, and the enemy was chained to the back of his chariot. He was paraded through the streets of the city.  Citizens of Rome applauded the victor as he passed by.  Behind him, his conquered ones endured the shame of defeat. 

In this picture, Christ was in the chariot, having defeated Satan through the cross.  His enemies made quite a spectacle in heavenly places, paraded in public defeat and subjugation.  

Our enemies may be flesh and blood, but the war’s origin is not of the ‘flesh and blood’ kind.  The attacks are conceived and fueled by the evil ones who wage war against Christ.  Spiritual foes want us to believe they still have all the power.  They want us to fear that the cross was not a defining moment in their fate.  But these enemies have been defeated and have been shamed before heaven.  Jesus dealt with them once at Calvary and He will deal with them again before casting them into the lake of fire.  They already know their end.  Suddenly they shouted, “What have You to do with us, Son of God? Have You come here to torment us before the time?”  Matthew 8:29

Until then, as we face others’ hostility, we can find strength in knowing He deals with our enemies, both human and spiritual, even now, with infinite wisdom.

The cross before me.  The cross behind me.  You rule in victory and I trust You.  Amen

By faith the walls of Jericho fell down after being encircled by the Israelites for seven days. Hebrews 11:30

Looking foolish seems to recur throughout Scripture. A great man like Naaman was commanded to dip seven times in the muddy Jordan to be healed. Noah was told to build an enormous ark while judgment was still unseen. Jehoshaphat sent singers ahead of his army into battle. The Israelites were told to walk around Jericho for seven days, expecting fortified walls to collapse. Obeying God required laying down the need to appear reasonable. Naaman was humiliated by the command. Jehoshaphat must have wondered whether he had heard such an outlandish strategy correctly. Noah endured years of building something that made little sense to anyone watching. And while the Israelites did not have to circle Jericho for years, seven days is still a long time to look ridiculous.

Did everyone marching around Jericho believe, with every step, in God’s promised outcome? I doubt it. No more than I trust God perfectly every moment when He leads me into something frightening. I take a deep breath. I obey. Criticism comes. My courage thins, and I return to God for enough strength to take the next step. Then the process begins again. Obedience can be lonely, especially when God’s instructions fall outside everything logical and predictable.

No wonder faith must precede radical obedience. Without faith, I will eventually retreat to what makes sense. The fear of looking foolish is powerful because reputation is one of the last things I want to place on the altar. But obedience requires an audience of One. God’s voice has to become weightier than everyone else’s opinion.

Hebrews 11 records the stories of people who entrusted themselves to God when obedience made no earthly sense. They became heroes of faith not because they were fearless, but because God’s word became more compelling than the crowd’s approval. Long before Jesus spoke of the narrow road, faithful people were already discovering how lonely that road could be.

Human plans can impress people because their logic is visible. God’s plans often make sense only to those willing to walk by faith. Earth gives trophies for visible accomplishment; heaven measures something deeper ~ the obedience no one understood, the years no one applauded, the faithfulness that survived ridicule. Those heroes are now with Jesus. They now understand how one strange act of obedience advanced the kingdom of God.

Free me from the need to look wise, reasonable, or understood. Amen

We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy.  Titus 3:3-5

Jesus was not afraid to come and live among people who knew how to hate. He was not naïve about the darkness that can move through human relationships. He understood jealousy between friends, rivalry between siblings, the quiet resentment that grows when someone else receives what I wanted for myself. He knew how easily offended love can turn into contempt, and how quickly envy can justify cruelty.

None of this surprised Him. Long before Bethlehem, He had witnessed what sin had done to the human heart. Cain murdered the brother whose offering God received. Noah, after surviving the flood by grace, still carried the Fall within him. David’s desire for Bathsheba grew into adultery, deception, and death. Sin, left unchallenged, always grows new roots.

When Jesus came, He also knew the ancient strategy of the evil one, who first rebelled against God and has spent centuries persuading people to distrust God’s goodness. Satan whispers that what God has given me is not enough. He says, Someone else is loved more than you. They are more favored and more blessed. Beneath all of this is an even deeper accusation against God. God has withheld something from you that you should have had.

If you’re jealous of someone, they probably feel it.  Conjuring up a fake warmth that seems genuine is nearly impossible.  Your body language says it all. In our flesh, we want more than what we have and if someone else has it, we struggle to love them.  No relationship is safe from the reaches of sin.

And this is the world Jesus willingly entered. The dread of what He might suffer didn’t prevent Him from coming to extend kindness instead of condemnation. Titus does not say that our goodness appeared and drew God near. It says that His kindness appeared while we lived in malice and envy.

What You have done for me overwhelms me, Jesus. But what humbles me even more is knowing that Your mercy extends to those I find difficult to love. Let Your kindness reach the jealous, wounded places in me. Amen