Devotionals

Philippians 3:7–11

Jonah 2:1–9

I remember it well. Almost as clearly as if it happened last month. But it didn’t. It happened deep in the summer of ’58. I was a Marine. Almost eight thousand miles of ocean between me and my wife. One-word descriptions of my condition? Disillusioned. Stretched. Learning. Lonely. Determined. Sincere. Uncertain. Afraid.

Psalm 100:3–5

Psalm 78:1–7

Numbers 6:24-26

My darling...

The familiar tune and lyrics from “Fiddler on the Roof” keep me company these days. I hum them to myself in the car and repeat the lines as I jog. Nostalgia nuzzles its way into my heart:

Is this the little girl I carried? 
Is this the little boy at play? 
I don’t remember growing older. When did they? 

When did she get to be a beauty? 
When did he grow to be so tall? 
Wasn’t it yesterday when they were small? 

Proverbs 16:3–9

In Part One, I presented you with your own (round) tuit—the solution to those procrastination problems you’ve been having. Yep, no longer will you need to say: 

“I should take care of that—and I will as soon as I get a (round) tuit.” 

You’ve got it! 

Now, let’s take a look at what the Bible says about this. I’ll bet Solomon had a (round) tuit. Maybe he got his from Moses, who once wrote: 

Psalm 90:12-17

Whatever you do, don’t lose this.

Proverbs 10:19

You’ve heard of “too little and too late.” 

How about “too many and too much”? That’s the way I’d describe our times. In a society overrun with overstatements, I find an occasional “not quite enough” a sheer delight. 

Acts 17:22–31

Paul was a misfit. When it came to a place like Athens, the crusty Apostle clashed with the decor. 

Made no sense at all. The classic oil-and-water combo. A monotheistic Jew smack dab in the middle of polytheistic Gentiles. Narrow-minded former Pharisee surrounded by broad-minded philosophers. One idol-hating Christian among many idol-worshiping pagans. Outnumbered. Outvoted. Outshouted. But not outwitted. 

Mark 2:16–18

What happened to compassion among conservative Christians? When did we stop thinking of how valuable it is to be healing agents, wound wrappers like the good Samaritan? When did we opt for placing more emphasis on being proclaimers and defenders and less on becoming repairers and restorers?