He is my Song

There's a phrase that's been sitting in my spirit this morning:   Either HE's GOD, or He's not. If He's God, He's God in all of it - the good, the bad, the easy and the hard. And if He's not God in the hard parts, then He's not really God at all; He's just a nice idea we keep around for when things are going our way. We believe Him easily when things are easy. It's not hard to trust God when the bills are paid and the kids are fine and the test results come back clear. Anybody can do that. F aith doesn't cost you anything in that season. Ah, but then something happens that has no natural explanation for how it gets fixed. The door doesn't open - in fact, it slammed shut in your face. The phone doesn't ring with good news - it may not even ring at all. The thing you prayed about gets worse instead of better. And that's where the real question shows up, the one that was always there the whole time: Do I actually believe He's who...

Life has a way of stacking up on us - work, family, whatever crisis is currently taking up residence in your mind at 2 a.m. In the middle of all that, I want to pause and talk about something that matters more than getting the to-do list cleared, and that is: staying thankful. And I don't just mean thankful for family, friends, and the good stuff, though we should be grateful for those. I mean thankful in the middle of trials .   "My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing." James 1:2-4 How in the world does James expect us to be joyful when life is falling apart around us?  Here's what I've come to understand over the years: the trials that test our faith are doing something in us. They're not random, and they're not wasted. A loving Father is using them to train us, to shape us more...

In my devotions this morning, one of my readings took me to Daniel 5. And two verses made me stop and take note: "But you his son, Belshazzar, have not humbled your heart, although you knew all this... but you have lifted yourself up against the Lord of heaven... and you have praised the gods of silver and gold, bronze, iron, wood, and stone, which do not see or hear or know; and the God who holds your breath in His hand and owns all your ways, you have not glorified." (Daniel 5:22-23) The reason Daniel's words land so hard here is the phrase "although you knew all this." Belshazzar wasn't ignorant. He'd watched, or at the very least, heard firsthand what happened to Nebuchadnezzar. King Nebuchadnezzar had been the most powerful man on earth, lost his mind, was driven out to live like an animal for seven years, and only got his kingdom back when he lifted his eyes to heaven and acknowledged that the Most High rules (Daniel 4:34-37). [Side note: Nancy De...

I have always read the Bible pretty methodically from the time I was born-again. Every year I set myself up on a rigid reading schedule and I have disciplined myself to read through the whole Bible every single year since. I would encourage every Christian to do this. However, there's another way to sit with a verse from Scripture that most don't consider: slowing down enough to think on every single word . The Hebrew word for "meditate" in Psalm 1:2 and Joshua 1:8 is hagah   (הָגָה)  and it doesn't mean sitting cross-legged, emptying your mind and humming.  I know a lot of people have explained this Hebrew word by using the illustration of a cow chewing it's cud. However, at  its root, hagah means to mutter, growl, or moan; it's a low, repeated sound. It's the same word used for a dove's low moaning cry (Isaiah 38:14, 59:11) and for a lion growling low over its prey (Isaiah 31:4). In other words, when the Bible talks about meditation, it referenc...