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- Written by: Don Goulding
He gave them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest garden plant and becomes a tree, so that the wild birds come and nest in its branches.” (Matthew 13:31, 32)
It began when I was a boy and realized I had sinned. I needed the forgiveness offered through Jesus. I was baptized at eleven, and the seed of eternity was planted in my heart.
As the years passed, I came to know God’s Son as more than my savior.
Now, Jesus is the mortar that holds every brick of my life together. He is the remedy for my raging dysfunction and the doctor who sets my dislocated life back in place. He is far more than the sum of everything in the universe.
The Spirit of Jesus is the music that transforms my spastic twitching into dance. He rains on my Martian landscape, changing it into a teeming Serengeti. When health fails or friends abandon, Jesus is the sunshine that fills the icy crevasse. He is my freedom, my peace, and my only hope.
Imagine the vacuum of outer space. You try to draw a panicked breath, but there’s no air to inhale. There is nothing but reflexive gulps at emptiness. That’s what it’s like to live without Jesus.
If Jesus is removed from the equation, life ceases to exist—it becomes merely a shell, like a clam without its creature or a cocoon vacant of its butterfly. There is no life, only a void of darkness with fading memories of the concept of light.
Though my faith in Jesus began as a tiny seed, it has grown into an unmovable tree of many years. Still, my branches strain toward him. They cannot turn away until I have joined with my everything.
Prayer: Jesus, I want you more than life.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
See that you do not disdain one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven. (Matthew 18:10)
On our last day in India, our team visited an orphanage in Chennai. Fourteen freshly bathed children met us at the gate and handed each of us a rose.
The grade schoolers pleaded, “Uncle, come sit by me.”
“Aunty, over here, please sit between us.”
They pumped love into us from their eyes.
The day before, there were fifteen children, but one was sent to the terminal care center. These were AIDS orphans, and they knew they had little time on earth. They were shunned by their community, lived in faith for their next meal, and had their life expectancy hacked short.
It didn’t matter to the orphans that the world had wrung them of life. They were connected to the face of their heavenly Father and amply supplied with what really mattered. We had first world wealth, experiences they couldn’t imagine, and education on a host of subjects—and they gave to us. These were spiritual giants, magnates of unlimited resources who tossed out fortunes of goodwill as though it cost them nothing.
The words of Jesus shouted from the pages of Revelation, … you say, “I am rich and have acquired great wealth, and need nothing,” but do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked. He says that about me and the people I live among, not about the orphans of Chennai.
The kids were a living motto—Joy for what is, without a care for what is not. I need that kind of trust in my life. Our visit made me realize that from my place of impoverishment of heart, I must look up to the shining orphans of Chennai.
Prayer: Father of the fatherless, make me rich in spirit like them.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Command those who are rich in this worldʼs goods not to be haughty or to set their hope on riches, which are uncertain, but on God who richly provides us with all things for our enjoyment. (1 Timothy 6:17)
The monkey watched from the safety of his branch as a man chained a clay jar to a tree. The man hid something colorful inside the jar and left. The monkey caught a sugary scent. He climbed down and reached a nimble hand to the candy. The mouth of the jar was too narrow to withdraw his closed fist, so, with his arm still inside, he dragged the pot toward the safety of his tree.
The chain clinked taut.
The monkey clamped his fist tighter around the candy and howled. The noise attracted the man, who slowly pulled the chain and the monkey toward a cage. The little animal refused to abandon his sweet prize. Instead, he screamed in panic. In that situation, what else could a monkey do?
“Let go,” the Lord says to me. “Open your hand from the things of the world and live in freedom.”
Jesus would have me be more intelligent than the monkey, yet I keep mental fists around popularity, health, comfort, my bank account—the list goes on. Like the monkey, I clamp down on my expectations of what I should get.
The devil’s chain is not long. While I grip temporal gifts, Satan draws me toward eternal imprisonment. The one breakable link between me and his hellfire is where my palm seizes earthly privileges. My only available option is to open my monkey fist and trust Jesus.
Prayer: Giving Lord, I set my hope on you alone.