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- Written by: Don Goulding
Therefore, so that I would not become arrogant, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of Satan to trouble me - so that I would not become arrogant. I asked the Lord three times about this, that it would depart from me. But he said to me, “My grace is enough for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:7-9 (NETFull)
I have a monkey on my back. No, it’s much heavier than that, it must be a gorilla. I can never turn far enough to see it but I stagger under its weight and I hear primal grunts from behind. People give strange looks, they must be shocked at the size of my gorilla.
My ape is noisy and rude. He is all that is vile and ugly and hateful. Everywhere I go, he interrupts with inappropriate habits and offensive banter. He is the cause for the temptations raging in my life, for my ailing body, and for all my soured relationships.
The most frustrating tactic of my gorilla is that he mimics my voice. He whispers dark thoughts and fools me into thinking I came up with them. Depression, anger, apathy—he has a long repertoire of wicked ideas to plant. And when he runs out, he listens to demons who give him even more ways to trick me.
Try what I may, I can’t get free of this exhausting weight crushing my shoulders. I slap at my back and jab sticks but my gorilla only laughs and digs in for a tighter hold.
I asked Jesus to get rid of the beast, to lift it from my back and set me free. He said, no, because when there’s no gorilla I don’t hold his hand as tight. He would do anything to make sure I never let go of his hand, including allowing the unwelcome monkey to stay on my back.
If Jesus said this is the way it is, then that’s how it will stay. I have to keep the gorilla until I die. So I’ll cling to the hand of Jesus and ask him to counteract each whisper from my gorilla. There is going to be a lot of asking and much hand squeezing.
Prayer: Be close, Jesus, and help me with the weight of my sin nature.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
But now, ask the animals and they will teach you, or the birds of the sky and they will tell you. Or speak to the earth and it will teach you, or let the fish of the sea declare to you. Which of all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this … Job 12:7-9 (NETFull)
Clouds heaped themselves into billows, round on top, flat and gray on the bottom, and a tasteful hint of orange worn low on their hips. Standing apart from one another, they populated the sky, large overhead and small in the horizon. Besides their aesthetic appeal, each cloud was a scientific marvel of liquid particle suspension and solar light refraction. Whether any human took notice or not, they broadcast the glory of their Creator God.
Snow-white seagulls rode the breeze above a scalloped ocean. They wheeled about stabbing yellow beaks into the wind. Their wingtips banked left then corrected right. Each gull followed its whims but stayed inside the boundaries of the gathered flock.
Clouds, gulls, stars, dolphins—everything in our universe declares the majesty of Jehovah God because that’s the purpose of its existence.
Mankind is different. Created in God’s image, we are bequeathed with the freedom of choice. We can choose to glorify God with our lives or not. If I want to disregard the biblical standards of living and hurt others when it pleases me, I can. The primary consequences of my actions are deferred until the next era.
The game is on and the clock is ticking. I’m given a limited number of years to see what I’ll do with the divine gift of choice. One day, the tally will be totaled and recompense will arrive. For now, there is a great opportunity to stand with the rest of creation and glorify God.
Prayer: My blessed Creator, I join the animals, birds, and fish to praise you.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
… you are a letter of Christ, delivered by us, written not with ink but by the Spirit of the living God, not on stone tablets but on tablets of human hearts. (2 Corinthians 3:3 NET_FL)
The tablet of my heart seems like an impossible medium for Christ’s grand communication. How can he write anything in this infinitesimal space? My heart is a mere speck, a bit of grime stirred from the dust of the world and not fit to herald the King’s message.
Mote that I am, I hover in the radiance of Christ’s glory. It’s a testament to his grace that the Lord seeks out flecks like me. He converts a dust floater into a museum-quality object of beauty. Onlookers gasp in awe. The wonder is not in the speck but in the light that strikes it. Laud the white-hot pure light, seen where it ignites the lint.
That a grand-sized heart reflects the wonder of Jesus is a given but that I can—tiny me with my warts and hang-ups—is a miracle. After years of chasing purity, I realize the ugliness of sin is still in me and all the beauty of Jesus is there too. The coexistence of these polar extremes shouts a declaration.
The message God squeezes onto my minuscule heart tablet is this, “No one can possess the love you see here unless they have supernatural aid. It’s my Son, Jesus, who beams love onto this heart you are reading and we long to do the same for you.”
Prayer: Spirit of the living God, may everyone I meet today see you on my heart.