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- Written by: Don Goulding
Whom do I have in heaven but you?
I desire no one but you on earth. (Psalms 73:25)
Desire is a gun fired grappling hook. It defies the gravity of every obstacle, and cuts through space toward its target. The steel hook jerks the rope of my life forward in limp obedience.
If a sea turtle sets her desire on returning to the nesting grounds, or a moth to joining the light, they’ll either satisfy their desire or die in the attempt. I may be more subtle but, when it comes to desire, I’m the same.
My error was never in the strength of my desire, it was in my choice of targets. I was duped into aiming for temporal goals—those pleasures that are, by definition, incapable of giving lasting fulfillment. Now I want to aim my scope at an eternal target. This time I’ll align the crosshairs on ultimate satisfaction—on Jesus.
Flying through life, I find my hook is subject to gusts of distraction and the gravity of discouragement. Landing on Jesus becomes an outlandish ambition. The only way I can hit my target is if my desire has enough weight and a fine enough point. It must fly white-hot.
With the correct bearing, desire is no longer a shamed urging, rather, it’s blessed by the one who gave it. So I’ll not hold back. I’ll allow desire to pull me in desperate urgency. Go ahead, desire, and pierce all other pursuits. Soar with fervor toward the beat of your heart, even to Jesus the perfect one for whom you burn.
Prayer: Jesus, I desire nothing in this world but you.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Today I invoke heaven and earth as a witness against you that I have set life and death, blessing and curse, before you. Therefore choose life so that you and your descendants may live! (Deuteronomy 30:19)
A South Pacific rendition of Amazing Grace flew loops inside my chest. Dancers swayed, and their fingers circled then sprang open, until all palms reached in supplication. The worship dance was elegant, emotion filled worship.
But union with God isn’t based on an emotional feeling.
When I was still thirtysomething, I devoured research about the historical validity of the New Testament. My knowledge lifted me out of the flatlands and into alpine spires. Datable fragments, textual validation, and historical confirmation towered about me. But acceptance from God isn’t based on intellectual conviction.
Emotion is a butterfly that lands for a moment and then flits away. Intellect is stone for anchoring as much as it is for drowning. Many academics are pulled down to self-reliant doom. What I need, what is required, is volition.
A volitional life duly considers options, decides, then takes action. My volition is my will, my decider. Emotion and intellect have consultations with volition, but volition is in charge of destiny.
I exercise volition when I act on my choice to receive forgiveness and journey with Christ. If my choice is based on emotion or intellect, then when my feelings or focus change, I’ll abandon conversion. But a volitional choice brings growth until the end.
The ability to act volitionally is what sets me apart from the animal kingdom. I’m gifted with a bit of sacred volition because I’m made in God’s image. My daily act of worship, then, is to decidedly admit my sin and order my life around God’s mercy.
Prayer: Mighty God, this day, I choose life, I choose forgiveness, I choose you.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
So they left the council rejoicing because they had been considered worthy to suffer dishonor for the sake of the name. (Acts 5:41)
We ate breakfast in the predawn darkness, and the cloud of sleep evaporated from my eight-year-old mind. I would spend the day on Grandpa’s construction site. I was giddy as a monkey in a banana tree. I had my lunch like Grandpa, and I would share his thermos of milky sweet coffee.
“What are we building today, Grandpa? I can pound nails in. Why do your teeth go into a glass at night?” I chattered a mockingbird’s repertoire inside his pickup truck.
Grandpa nodded his tired head and smirked at my enthusiasm. After all, we were only going to the muddy worksite he labored at six days a week.
How blessed I would be if I could bring my childhood excitement to the trials I now face. A gracious Father permits affliction, so I’ll have the opportunity to strike my mark into the tablet of eternity. I can be counted among those who see hope through hardship. My illnesses, disappointments, and temptations are as holy as anything the apostles suffered.
Why not live enthused about what others dread? Why not do the unthinkable and look trials in the face, then choose joy by the power of the Spirit? Not a stiff-upper-lip-grind-it-out endurance, but a get-up-and-go-to-work-with-grandpa buzz because I’m glorifying Jesus.
Prayer: All wise King, make me joyful about withstanding adversity for you