Category Archives: Devo Drops

Thoughts on daily devotional scripture readings

Take a Deep Breath

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I wonder how many of you actually just took a deep breath! We need to do that more often, you know. Most of us don’t breathe right most of the time. Quick, shallow breaths don’t feed our brains like long deep ones. In that case, I’d better take a few big ones right now before I go any further.

As a follow-up to Dry Bones, here are some thoughts on breathing.

Breathing is life. In the valley of dry bones, the bodies were reassembled, but remained nothing more than a pile of corpses until God’s breath entered them and they came to life. Just as when God made man in the beginning, Adam was a lifeless body until the breath of life shot into his nostrils and he became a living being. Isn’t that what we long for when we look at the body of a loved one lying in a casket – the breath of life? (I just looked in my thesaurus under breath and it says, “see LIFE”.)

The Hebrew word for breath, ruwach, also means wind and Spirit. Sounds like the lingo Jesus used with Nicodemus in John 3.  Spirit=breathe=life. I’m sure there are layers and nuances of meaning that go deep and wide here. I’d need lots of deep breathing to send my brain there.

In Paul’s letter to Timothy, he said “all scripture is God-breathed”. So, for me, reading the living and active Word of God is like being hooked up to an oxygen tank after inhaling pollution all day. It purifies, cleanses, brings health.

One last thought: don’t forget to exhale. Breathing isn’t just taking in air, but also letting it go in a natural rhythm. After six days of creating things, God designed something different: rest. The Hebrew Bible says that on the seventh day God rested and was refreshed. The word literally means God exhaled. I like to think of the Sabbath as the great exhale after sucking air for six days.

One more last thought: Here’s my favorite sermon illustration on breathing.

A young man asked a wise elderly teacher how he could find God. The gentleman asked the young man to come with him to the river. The young man expected to receive some wise words along the riverbank. But when they arrived, the old man walked out into the water, so the young man followed. Suddenly, the teacher grabbed the young man and forced him under. The seconds ticked by and the young man began to fight against the firm grip holding him down. Right before everything went black, the hand released him and he blasted out of the water, gasping for air. As he gagged and choked, he shouted, “What were you doing? Trying to kill me?” The teacher said, “When you want God as much as you wanted that breath of air, you will find Him.”

Breathe on me, Breath of God, till I am wholly thine;

Till all this earthly part of me glows with Thy fire divine.

Dry Bones

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I’ve been gutting my way through the book of Ezekiel. It’s not an easy read, but then it wasn’t easy being a prophet, either. Ezekiel, the poor guy, had to pronounce judgement on place after place: Egypt, Sidon, Moab, Tyre, Edom, Babylon, Jerusalem, Ammon, Philistia, Gog. He had to relay searing messages from God to Israel’s leaders and priests, to false prophets and idolaters, to those in his own hometown. Whew! That’s a lot of bad news.

Finally, this morning, the words flew off the page right to my heart. As I read in chapter 37, God gave Ezekiel a break from broadcasting words of woe and took him on a field trip to the bottom of a valley filled with very dry bones. God asked the prophet, “Can these bones live?” Ezekiel didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no, either. He gave the best answer possible, “Lord, only You can answer that.”

I don’t know about you, but there have been times when I’ve felt like a pile of dried up old bones laying on a valley floor. My prayers are dry, my devotions are dry — it’s that sense of being shriveled and empty and lifeless. Usually, something eventually breaks through and brings me back to life, although I once spent a two year stint in the desert of dryness. No fun.

God told Ezekiel what to say to that ditch full of skeletons and before the prophet got all the words out of his mouth, a rattling sound echoed from one end of the valley to the other. The bones came together (the foot bone connected to the ankle bone, the ankle bone connected to the shin bone…) and then tendons and flesh appeared (can you imagine seeing that?) and then God breathed His breath into the bodies and they all stood up (what a riveting picture!). “I will put breath in you, and you will come to life.” Ezekiel 37:6

During that long dry season I experienced, the words to a song by Michael W. Smith became my anthem:

“So breath in me, I need You now; I’ve never felt so dead within.

So breath in me, maybe somehow, You can breath new life in me again.”

So Ezekiel, can these dry bones live? Yes, indeed, they can.

25 Cents Worth, Please

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I read something this morning that hit me as being so profound, I just have to share it. I came across this while doing some study on the verse, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” Luke 9:23

Credit for this quote goes to someone named Dr. Fred Craddock. I googled him (of course) and found he is a professor of theology at Emory University. After all the credentials were listed, the article said, “Often characterized as preaching with a style that is ‘folksy’, Craddock is a strong supporter of using humor in sermons.” I knew I liked this guy. Here’s what my friend Fred had to say to me this morning:

“We think giving our all to the Lord is like taking a $1,000 bill and laying it on the table – ‘Here’s my life, Lord, I’m giving it all.’  But the reality for most of us is that he sends us to the bank and has us cash in the $1,000 for quarters. We go through life putting out 25 cents here and 50 cents there. Listen to the neighbor kid’s troubles instead of saying, ‘Get lost.’ Go to a committee meeting. Give a cup of water to a shaky old man in a nursing home.

“Usually giving our life to Christ isn’t glorious. It’s done in all those little acts of love, 25 cents at a time. It would be easy to go out in a flash of glory; it’s harder to live the Christian life little by little over the long haul.”

So, denying myself may mean intentionally NOT making the big thousand dollar-type sacrifice, but faithfully unloading twenty-five-centers when no one is paying any attention. So, what does that look like played out in everyday life? How do we deny ourselves?

Undignified Worship

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2 Samuel 6:14 “David, wearing a linen ephod, danced before the Lord with all his might.”

David danced. He danced before the Lord with all his might. Wearing a linen ephod. Some Bible scholars think that means David threw off his royal robe and associated himself with all the other lowly priests and servants. Others believe that David danced in his undies. It’s hard to kick up your heels in a long dress. Mrs. David despised her husband for such an indiscretion, especially in front of the other girls. Understandable. I wouldn’t want my husband waltzing down the aisle on Sunday morning in his Fruit of the Looms.

But David was dancing before the Lord — giving full expression of his deep love for God. He was dancing with all his might,  holding nothing back. After a long, emotional day of ministry, David went home to bless his own household. The Mrs. met him at the door with criticism on her tongue, calling her husband a “vulgar fellow”. David defended his dance by saying it was before the Lord in celebration. Then that great line – “I will become even more undignified than this.” 2 Samuel 6:22

How does it happen? Two extremely different interpretations: 1) an all-out offering of worship, 2) an embarrassment.

Funny, God never reprimanded David. Perhaps God liked David’s dance; maybe God loved the wild and uninhibited expression of worship. Clearly, God was not repulsed by David’s lack of clothes or lack of dignity, but instead reveled in David’s abundant, joyful, all-his-might worship.

What does my worship look like to God? Am I too dignified? Have I ever worshiped in such a heart-felt manner that others were a little embarrassed? Am I willing to praise Him with all my might?

Chewing on Figs

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Okay, I’ve been chewing long enough. Three posts have been written and deleted so this is my last ditch effort to make sense of this parable. Another good way to gain understanding when studying Bible passages is to look at the story from the different characters’ point of view. So, here goes.

The owner of the vineyard: God owns the vineyard and He can plant whatever He wants on His property. In fact, He appreciates a little variety and makes room in His field for a totally different plant. He provides all that’s necessary to promote growth and maturity. He checks in regularly to see how it’s going. He watches and waits for fruit, but is patient and willing to give it a reasonable amount of time. When no fruit appears, He allows the vinedresser to give the tree extra attention. But the warning is given: it there’s no fruit, cut it down.

The vinedresser: He is the keeper of the vineyard, not an orchard specialist. Even so, he bargains for time with the owner in hopes of bringing about a harvest. The vinedresser may be a pastor, teacher or spiritual leader. He is willing to put in overtime to tend to this beautiful but barren member. He pleads for the life of the plant before the Owner. His plan is to fertilize by offering another Bible study, planning another retreat, praying harder for another year. Although it is frustrating to let this tree absorb all the nutrients out of the soil, he continues working to get the desired result.

The grape vines: It’s a stretch to consider the vines as “characters”, but humor me. The vines are the producers, the ones actually accomplishing what they were meant to do; the ones you can count on year after year, the faithful bearers. They are probably not happy that a tree is leeching all the nutrients out of the ground, soaking up all their minerals. However, they refuse to produce sour grapes because they desire to please the Owner. Even though their vines are scraggly compared to the tree trunk and their leaves are not as profuse and lush as the tree, they are content to know the will of the Owner and fulfill His purpose for them.

The fig tree: From its earliest days as a sapling, the tree has been given the very best of everything. It has gown up in a safe environment with all the opportunities a fig tree could want. All its needs have been generously met and it has had a good life in the vineyard. From a distance, the tree looks to be healthy and strong.  However, when the Owner looks deeply into its showy leaves and sees there is no fruit, he is deeply disappointed. A stay of execution is given, but at some point, if the tree remains fruitless, it will become firewood.

The man with the baseball bat: (not in the Bible story, but in the diy.com video)  Sometimes the conditions are just too good for a tree’s own good. Hopefully, the man with the bat will come alongside this tree and give it six to eight good whacks to get it thinking. It usually works for me.

Fruit is the point. Fruit is the purpose. And that’s all I have to say about fig trees.

Camping Under a Fig Tree

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There are many ways to create interest and inject life into daily Bible reading. Here are two of my favorites: asking questions of the text, and googling.

Parable: “A man had a fig tree, planted in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it, but did not find any. So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, ‘For three years now I’ve been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven’t found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?’ ‘Sir,’ the man replied, ‘leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.'” Luke 13:6-9

First question: Why did the man plant a fig tree in his vineyard? A vineyard is a place for growing grapes, not figs. A tree takes up lots of room. I googled “How to Grow a Fig Tree”, and a gardening site said a fig tree needs 10 feet on all sides cleared. That’s a lot of grape vines. The man must have really wanted some figs.

Second question: Were the man’s expectations realistic? He’d been waiting three years to eat a fig. I googled “Fig Production”, and a fruit tree site said typically a fig tree produces fruit in two years, so it seems reasonable to be looking for something to sink his teeth into by this time.

Third question: Why wasn’t the tree producing any fruit? A vineyard is a carefully cultivated and fertile spot, enriched with all the nutrients it needs to bear a crop. Here’s where it gets good. I googled “How to Make a Tree Bear Fruit” and a diy.com video held the secret. According to the expert, trees that don’t produce fruit  just require some stimulation to get in reproductive mode. “What the tree needs is to feel threatened,” said the expert, (I’m not kidding) “and the tree will think, ‘Uh oh, I’m going to die, so I’d better produce some fruit.'” At this point in the video, the expert picks up a baseball bat and instructs us to “whack it upside the trunk a few times, six or eight times.” After the whacking is demonstrated he assures us that “now the tree knows it is under attack and that’s ok because that will stimulate the production of flowers and fruit next year.”

The man with the baseball bat set me to thinking…

What is the lesson here? Chew on it awhile. What do you think?

Dandelions

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This time of year is full of God-breathed lessons of new birth and fresh starts. I think God is trying to teach me something through dandelions this year. Ah, those pesky, populous, perpetually persistent puffballs. Our lawn is full of them. No matter that we mow them down a couple times a week. They just keep popping back up. Even the act of chopping off those stems seems to spread their cottony seeds and create more havoc in our yard. You just can’t deal with dandelions at the surface level. You’ve got to go deep and get at the root.

Now I don’t plan to go out in the front yard and dig up all my dandelions. But I have heard there is such a thing as weed killer that actually seeps down below the surface and kills the taproot without harming the grass. Cool. Maybe we’ll try that. Next year.

I like to think of God’s Word as that powerful force that seeps down into the root of my being. Hebrews 4:12 says, “The Word of God is living and active (potent stuff), sharper than any double-edged sword (or garden trowel), it penetrates (goes deep) even to dividing joints and marrow (gets the bad stuff, leaves the good stuff).

It’s always a struggle to stay intentional about being in the Word. I’ve tried many, many devotionals, Bible reading plans and memory verse techniques. Finding that it doesn’t really matter what I do, as long as I do something, I change it up every so often. I’ve also found that if there is no plan, there’s not much motivation. So putting my open Bible out on the couch before I go to bed at night seems to make me feel that Someone is out there waiting for me in the morning, so I’d better get out of bed.  As my “roots go down deep into the soil of God’s marvelous love” (Eph. 4:17) the weeds will have a tougher time surviving.

How about you? How do you keep it fresh?

For Crying Out Loud

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Have you ever heard of a talking rock? I’ve heard of a pet rock, rock and roll, rock of ages; one of the kids at church even told me, “You rock!” But I’ve never heard an actual rock say anything. They are usually pretty quiet.

As Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, people became caught up in the moment. They cheered for Jesus, waved palm branches, laid a red carpet. As usual, the Pharisees were tsk-tsk-ing. The church leaders were repulsed by this jubilant show and told Jesus to rebuke his followers. Instead,  Jesus rebuked them! He said, “If the people kept quiet, the stones along the road would burst into cheers!”

Has it ever happened? Have the people God created ever been so silent in their praise for Him that the rocks just have to step in and give a cheer? It did happen, just five days after the Palm Sunday party. Skip ahead to Friday at about 3:00 p.m. The Lamb of God took away the sins of the world, and the Lion of Judah roared from Zion, “It is finished!” Please don’t ever think of those words as a wimpy, defeated, surrendered whisper. Matthew says Jesus shouted those words – a giant, victorious yell!

It was quiet. Aside from a few weeping women and some soldiers milling about, it was deathly quiet. There was no “Hosanna!” or “Halleluia!” from the disciples. In fact, there were no disciples. There was no “Blessed be the name of the Lord!” from the crowd. The crowd had gone home. So the stones cried out. Matthew put it this way: “The earth shook and the rocks split.” The Greek word for rocks is petra, which means BIG rocks or boulders; not pebbles or skipping stones. Rocks were the only part of creation that got it! They heard the victory shout from the cross and couldn’t bear the silence, so they cried out until they split.

May the people of God never be silent! For crying out loud, we can’t be shown up by a pile of rocks when it comes to praising our Risen Savior!

Psalm 59:0

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Before Psalm 59 actually begins, the composer jots down some notes:

For the director of music. To the tune of “Do Not Destroy”. Of David. A miktam. When Saul had sent men to watch David’s house in order to kill him.

This interesting side note is not assigned a verse number, but it sure sets the scene. David is peeking out between the curtains at night and sees King Saul’s gangsters are back again. They are like mad dogs, lurking in the shadows, waiting for a chance to attack. David knows he is on the top of Saul’s hit list and that the thugs are there to assassinate him. 1 Samuel 19:11 verifies the story: “Saul sent men to David’s house to watch it and to kill him in the morning.”

So what does David do? What any man would do in that situation. He picks up his pen and journal and writes lyrics to a song that’s been going through his head all day! Instead of sharpening his sword and forming an escape plan, David writes. He sets down before God everything that is on his mind. “Deliver me! Save me! Protect me!” and “Bring them down! Consume them in your wrath! Show no mercy!” His fear and his desire for revenge pour out in complete honesty. Once all that is off his chest and he has cleared his head, his heart is able to speak: “I sing praise to you; you, O God, are my fortress, my loving God.”

That’s what I love about David. He always comes back around to praise and worship. Even when his house is surrounded by hit men sent by the king, he finds a song to sing. Even when his life is in utter chaos, David is confident in his God.

I need to remember David’s example when all my worries howl at me in the night and nip at my heels. After I’ve cried and complained to God, I need to remember to come back around and wrap it all up with praise. And when I can’t come up with praise-filled words of my own, I’ll borrow some from David.

The Letter

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A few weeks ago, when I went out to the mailbox to get the mail, tucked between the credit card offers and the bills, there was a letter. It was an actual handwritten letter on real paper. I hadn’t received one of those in a very long time. I get lots of emails each week and text messages every day, but a handwritten letter is pretty rare and I felt honored to have one in my hands.

I started thinking about letters that I have saved over the years; love letters from my husband, special cards from friends, and summer camp postcards from the kids. I have a box of letters my dad wrote home to his parents during WWII. Those 965 yellowed pages tell an amazing story and are so precious to me. I don’t get too nostalgic deleting old emails or texts, but there’s just something about hand-written letters that seems worth preserving.

Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “You are a letter from Christ, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the Living God.” We are letters to those around us, meant to be personal and with a story to share. I expect some days I am more like junk mail, delivering my bad mood or selfishness to those around me. Other days I may be more like an annoying unpaid bill, pointing out what someone owes me or keeping track of others’ wrongs. Sometimes I’m short and hurried and come off as an impersonal text or email.

Jesus wants us to be the letters; the special, personal, keepsake-type. Like it or not, we are “known and read by everybody” (2 Corinthians 3:2). So, it really does matter what kind of message we are delivering.