Five years ago we experienced a global pandemic that left millions dead. Today I’m taking time to remember and share with you a devotion I wrote during those dark days. I titled it “The Shelter of His Wings: Running to the Rock” (3/23/2020). I hope you will find the message as relevant to your life today as it was to mine then:

We’d been fighting our twelve-year-old son all week about doing his schoolwork. Taking away his computer resulted in hours-long meltdowns and dysregulation. The more we nagged—as he called it—the more he pushed back.

A few weeks ago Pastor Sean touched on reciprocal ethics during his series of messages on 1 Peter. My takeaway from that particular message was that God’s grace is our greatest blessing. It is through His grace and His grace alone that we are who we are. This means we owe everything we are and everything we have to God and God alone.

I have been struggling a bit with patience lately.  Well, truth be told, maybe more than a bit.  My sweet 16 year old dog, Tigger struggles with “doggie dementia” and his episodes come on in the middle of the night and together we are up for hours at a time.

I don’t often find myself reading the book of Lamentations. Ascribed by ancient Jewish and Christian tradition to the prophet Jeremiah, this book “poignantly shares the overwhelming sense of loss that accompanied the destruction of the city” (NIV Study Bible).

A few years ago, I was visiting my son and his family. It was a joy to spend time with the family, especially our young granddaughter. They lived on a small ocean inlet with a community dock. Walking on the dock took you out into the bay where fish were jumping and neighbors had set out crab pots. I was anxious to share this experience with my granddaughter; to share the joys of the water—its smells, its beauty, its immense majesty reaching out to the ocean beyond.

We have been hearing a lot about inflation for the past four years or more. Inflation is always present. It bounces madly around, up and down, as caused by a host of different economic drivers from supply and demand to fiscal and monetary policy, among other things.

Many of you may be familiar with the famous painting by William Holman Hunt called “The Light of the World.” It represents the figure of Jesus preparing to knock on an overgrown and long-unopened door, illustrating Revelation 3:20:

I have a friend who defines the spiritual gift of discernment as the ability to know where God is and where He isn’t. I like this definition, especially when I put it up beside the Apostle Paul’s closing words to the church at Philippi:

When our children are young, we have a lot of control over their lives. We choose what they wear, where they go, what they eat, and who they’re friends with. As they grow and mature, our control lessens.

In a recent Bible study, our group was discussing a question about the Teacher’s priorities in life as shown by chapters 11 and 12 in the book of Ecclesiastes. Our comments were varied but consistent with the writings of the Teacher.

O star of wonder, star of light, star with royal beauty bright, westward leading, still proceeding, guide us to thy perfect light. These lyrics to the beautiful Christmas hymn, We Three Kings by John Henry Hopkins Jr., captivated me like never before this Christmas season. I found myself being prompted nightly to go outside in my backyard and simply look up and take in the beauty of God’s creation of our night sky.

Years ago, a question made its way around Christian circles: If you were arrested for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?