Max Lucado Daily: Don’t Miss the Point
“Lord, you bless those who do what is right.” Psalm 5:12
The trip from Egypt to the promised land can be made in nine days (Deuteronomy 1:2). It took the Israelites thirty-eight years.
What they should have done, they didn’t . . . So God decided they needed some time to rethink a few things.
Maybe God is wanting to teach you a few things. Pay attention. You don’t want to spend thirty-eight years missing the point.
Joshua 20
Cities of Refuge
1 Then the LORD said to Joshua: 2 “Tell the Israelites to designate the cities of refuge, as I instructed you through Moses, 3 so that anyone who kills a person accidentally and unintentionally may flee there and find protection from the avenger of blood. 4 When they flee to one of these cities, they are to stand in the entrance of the city gate and state their case before the elders of that city. Then the elders are to admit the fugitive into their city and provide a place to live among them. 5 If the avenger of blood comes in pursuit, the elders must not surrender the fugitive, because the fugitive killed their neighbor unintentionally and without malice aforethought. 6 They are to stay in that city until they have stood trial before the assembly and until the death of the high priest who is serving at that time. Then they may go back to their own home in the town from which they fled.”
7 So they set apart Kedesh in Galilee in the hill country of Naphtali, Shechem in the hill country of Ephraim, and Kiriath Arba (that is, Hebron) in the hill country of Judah. 8 East of the Jordan (on the other side from Jericho) they designated Bezer in the wilderness on the plateau in the tribe of Reuben, Ramoth in Gilead in the tribe of Gad, and Golan in Bashan in the tribe of Manasseh. 9 Any of the Israelites or any foreigner residing among them who killed someone accidentally could flee to these designated cities and not be killed by the avenger of blood prior to standing trial before the assembly.
Our Daily Bread reading and devotion
Read: Psalm 68:1-10
For the director of music. Of David. A psalm. A song.
1 May God arise, may his enemies be scattered;
may his foes flee before him.
2 May you blow them away like smoke—
as wax melts before the fire,
may the wicked perish before God.
3 But may the righteous be glad
and rejoice before God;
may they be happy and joyful.
4 Sing to God, sing in praise of his name,
extol him who rides on the clouds[b];
rejoice before him—his name is the LORD.
5 A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,
is God in his holy dwelling.
6 God sets the lonely in families,[c]
he leads out the prisoners with singing;
but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land.
7 When you, God, went out before your people,
when you marched through the wilderness,[d]
8 the earth shook, the heavens poured down rain,
before God, the One of Sinai,
before God, the God of Israel.
9 You gave abundant showers, O God;
you refreshed your weary inheritance.
10 Your people settled in it,
and from your bounty, God, you provided for the poor.
A Hard Goodbye
August 5, 2011 — by Bill Crowder
A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy habitation. —Psalm 68:5
When our youngest son joined the Army, we knew that challenges lay ahead. We knew that he would face danger and be tested physically, emotionally, and spiritually. We also knew that in some ways our home would never fully be his home again. In the months leading up to his departure, my wife and I steeled ourselves for these challenges.
Then the day came when Mark had to report. We hugged and said our goodbyes, and then he walked into the recruiting station, leaving me with a moment for which I was decidedly unprepared. The pain of that hard goodbye felt unbearable. At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, I can’t remember when I have wept as hard as I did that day. The hard goodbye, and the sense of loss it delivered, cut me to the heart.
In such moments, I am thankful to have a heavenly Father who knows what it is to be separated from a beloved Son. I am thankful to have a God who is described as “a father of the fatherless, a defender of widows” (Ps. 68:5). I believe that if He cares for the orphaned and the widows in their loneliness, He will also care for me and comfort me—even in those moments when I face the struggles that accompany hard goodbyes.
When our loved ones say goodbye
And we have to be apart,
God can fill our loneliness
With His presence in our heart. —Sper
Loneliness comes when we forget
about the One who is always with us.
My Utmost for His Highest, by Oswald Chambers
August 5th, 2011
The Bewildering Call of God
. . . and all things that are written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man will be accomplished.’ . . . But they understood none of these things . . . —Luke 18:31, 34
God called Jesus Christ to what seemed absolute disaster. And Jesus Christ called His disciples to see Him put to death, leading every one of them to the place where their hearts were broken. His life was an absolute failure from every standpoint except God’s. But what seemed to be failure from man’s standpoint was a triumph from God’s standpoint, because God’s purpose is never the same as man’s purpose.
This bewildering call of God comes into our lives as well. The call of God can never be understood absolutely or explained externally; it is a call that can only be perceived and understood internally by our true inner-nature. The call of God is like the call of the sea— no one hears it except the person who has the nature of the sea in him. What God calls us to cannot be definitely stated, because His call is simply to be His friend to accomplish His own purposes. Our real test is in truly believing that God knows what He desires. The things that happen do not happen by chance— they happen entirely by the decree of God. God is sovereignly working out His own purposes.
If we are in fellowship and oneness with God and recognize that He is taking us into His purposes, then we will no longer strive to find out what His purposes are. As we grow in the Christian life, it becomes simpler to us, because we are less inclined to say, “I wonder why God allowed this or that?” And we begin to see that the compelling purpose of God lies behind everything in life, and that God is divinely shaping us into oneness with that purpose. A Christian is someone who trusts in the knowledge and the wisdom of God, not in his own abilities. If we have a purpose of our own, it destroys the simplicity and the calm, relaxed pace which should be characteristic of the children of God.
A Word with You, by Ron Hutchcraft
Radiation Rescuers - #6410
Friday, August 5, 2011
World events? I mean, even the ones as tragic and dramatic as Japan's quake, and tsunami, and nuclear emergency. Well, they tend to get pushed off the front page by the next big story. And these days, it looks like there's a next big story just about every day.
But, you know there are going to be lasting effects of all that happened in Japan. I think especially of those workers at those damaged nuclear power plants. I mean, they had to know that something bad was happening to their bodies and their futures as they worked in that radiating place, but they continued to go in there. They also knew that lives were at stake in their efforts to contain that invisible killer that was leaking from those plants. So they risked it all.
I'm Ron Hutchcraft and I want to have A Word With You today about "Radiation Rescuers."
You know, that shames me when I think of the times that I have "chickened out" on my life-saving assignment because I was afraid of something bad that might happen to me. My life-saving assignment is to go in and tell other people about the Jesus who is their only hope for eternity. "Oh, but you know, I'm afraid they might not like me as much." "I might goof it up." "Maybe they'd write me off as a Jesus-freak." No. No. No, there's no danger of me losing my life, but I might lose a little personal ground. You know?"
I'm thinking about a visit I had to the Oklahoma City Bombing Memorial a few years ago. I was privileged to go there with a police officer who had been one of the first responders on that awful day, when so many people died as that building was detonated early that morning. My friend told me about how he was one of the rescuers that ran into that building. And when they did, they knew they were the only hope for some trapped survivors. But I've got to tell you, they weren't without fear. As they looked at the structure above them, as my friend did, he could hear it creaking and he started thinking, "Man, this thing could come down on top of us at any moment." And so he said to his chief, "I think we're going to die here." And his chief replied, "Then it's a good day to die, and a good way to die."
Well, I drove away that day with a new sense of what it means to be a rescuer of lives that are in the balance. In one word--self-abandonment. Like some quiet heroes who were willing to go into that nuclear plant that was broken, and abandon themselves so other people could live. Or like the September 11 rescuers at Ground Zero, charging into the rubble of those fallen towers, knowing they might never come out alive. And, above all, like the only Son of God, abandoning all the glory of heaven for the blood and the brutality of a cross for me so I could live.
And here am I--and so are many of my fellow Jesus-followers--too often wimping out on delivering the only message that can save people we care about from an unthinkable eternity.
Now, our word for today from the word of God, Proverbs 24:11. It commands us to "rescue those being led away to death." Jude 23 from the New Testament: "snatch others from the fire and save them." Those are life-or-death images. Which give all those who belong to the Rescuer a life-saving responsibility.
There's something to be more afraid of all right. But something to be more afraid of than what will happen to us if we tell lost people about Jesus. It's what will happen to them if we don't.