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- Written by: Don Goulding
Go, my people! Enter your inner rooms!
Close your doors behind you!
Hide for a little while,
until his angry judgment is over! (Isaiah 26:20)
I watched a Nigerian weaverbird gather leaf strands from a palm tree. Over, under, over, under, the yellow marvel knit the strips into his nest. At the bottom of the six inch orb was a small entry. A hundred nests dangled like Christmas tree ornaments and kept birdie families snug against the storms and predators outside.
Earthly life threatens to consume me, both its lures and its pain. Nature’s beauty, agonizing diseases, technology, relationships, politics, births, wars—there’s so much to digest.
Jesus says, “Let me be your nest, your place of safety away from the turmoil swirling around you. Withdraw your heart into friendship with me while I deal with everything on the outside.”
I’m invited into a quiet interior life. By faith, I must let Jesus weave a hushed globe. It is 360 degrees around me, a separation from anything this life can inflict. Each new event is an occasion to rest in his peace, and grow in the fullness of love.
So much of what goes on around me is never meant to come inside the nest. I must trust the Lord to whisper those few things I need in order to serve him. All the rest is marked to be destroyed by the fire of God, so leave it outside.
Prayer: Jesus, hide my heart from the uproar of the world.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
I tell you the solemn truth, a time is coming- and is now here- when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live. (John 5:25)
I floated on a sea of confusion made from the darkness of my own thoughts. All that was sweet or musical had fled, and I could no longer remember what the color green looked like. I was conscious but dead.
“I am here,” a voice called to my spirit.
The rich timbre was like a defibrillator on my arrested heart. It beat once, twice, then continued.
Three simple words cut through the fog. I am here. Coming from any other, they would’ve been meaningless, but from this speaker they meant life. In the moment he spoke, fear vacated the space between us. We were forever linked.
There is still nothing to see, but the voice soothes the air around me. I strain in the direction of its sound, hugging the honeyed notes to my core. This is my lifeline to sanity.
No matter that I’m still bobbing on the dark sea, I’m no longer confused. The direction of the voice gives me orientation. I know where I’m headed, and I know there is green life beyond.
Where there is a voice there is a speaker, and, in this case, a Savior. I don’t have to see him to live. I only have to hear his voice. I can do that much. All the rest—light, music, shades of green—they will come when he says it’s time. For now, I have his voice.
Prayer: Son of God, grant me to hear your voice of life today.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
I no longer call you slaves, because the slave does not understand what his master is doing. But I have called you friends, because I have revealed to you everything I heard from my Father. (John 15:15)
In the middle of my junior year of high school, my family moved to different town. I walked across the new campus at lunchtime like a salmon making an exhausted run at the waterfall. Somewhere in the clique gauntlet, there had to be a group that would accept me before I was swept down the friendless teen river.
Back then, I believed in Jesus, but I didn’t know how to be friends with someone I couldn’t actually see. Then we found ourselves on the same team in life’s tug-of-war, and I eventually forgot he was invisible.
The creator of the universe can now be my inseparable pal. He fully understands my dysfunction and still loves me. He doesn’t blindly accept whatever I say or do. He challenges me, rigorously, and I accept his correction because he always has my best in mind.
I could be intimidated in Jesus’s company, what with him being in the Holy Trinity and all. But I know he too was tempted, and he questioned our Father’s will. He understands my weakness and so, coming to him is as comfortable as pulling on a favorite sweatshirt.
Yes, Jesus is still invisible, but so much more present than anyone else. I only wish I had known in high school what I know today.
Prayer: Jesus, my best friend, you make me whole.