The one who says he is in the light but hates his brother is in the darkness until now. The one who loves his brother remains in the light and there is no cause for stumbling in him. But the one who hates his brother is in the darkness, walks in the darkness, and doesn’t know where he is going because the darkness has blinded his eyes. 1 John 2:9-11
Now this is the message we have heard from Him and declare to you: God is light, and there is absolutely no darkness in Him. 1 John 1:5
My words…
As a kid, I remember Valentine’s Day school parties as being times of great consternation. Each year, I chose a box of flimsy, cartoon-character-infused cards with matching flimsy envelopes to give to each of my classmates. My teacher insisted that every student would receive a valentine from every other student which meant I was forced to give a card to Glen, my arch enemy. I gnashed my teeth. I hated Glen. You were there, Lord, when he punched me in the stomach in kindergarten. You watched him strip a thin branch from a tree and slice a welt across my bare leg while we waited at the bus stop. He was mean. He was a bully. He didn’t deserve a valentine. When I sorted through the cards, I always chose the one I liked the least and gave that one to Glen. It was my only recourse.
Looking back, I remember wishing him ill. During the warm summer days when the neighborhood kids played at the park, I hated when he showed up with his strut and scowl. He didn’t deserve to have fun like the rest of us. He spoiled the fun. When the park director kicked him out for hitting a kid with a knock hockey stick, I gloated. A few years later, Glen and his family moved away, but I never forgot him because he was the first person I hated.
My relationship with Glen was a teaching lesson from You, Jesus. I remember vividly what it felt like to hate. It felt dark. It felt abnormal, and I never wanted to feel that way again. Now I am grown, and I see Glen from a different perspective: a kid who was never happy because there was no happiness in his home. I have had many opportunities to walk the path of hate. I praise You as the One who gives me the wisdom to recognize it for what it is: a dark and dangerous path to tread. I am a child of the light. That is where you want me to dwell. That is where I belong.
Thank You, Lord, for sending me messages of love from Your word, from our meditations, from Your creation. Not just on February 14, but every day.
Valentine’s Day should be a time of sharing love, chocolate and flowers with others, not a day of thinking of those we hate. But then again, perhaps it’s the perfect day to do so.
This is what the Lord says, “For My people have committed a double evil: They have abandoned Me, the fountain of living water, and dug cisterns for themselves, cracked cisterns that cannot hold water.” Jeremiah 2:13
Jesus said, “Everyone who drinks from this water will get thirsty again. But whoever drinks from the water that I will give him will never get thirsty again – ever! In fact, the water I will give him will become a well of water springing up within him for eternal life.” John 4:13-14
My words…
Praise
I smile when I read You referring to Yourself as the fountain of living water. I love fountains. The water leaps upward, then, when the droplets have reached their highest trajectory, they fall gracefully back to the water’s surface only to be replaced by the next wave. It is a continuous and mesmerizing water ballet. You could also be referring to Yourself as a flowing stream: fresh, cool water tumbling down a mountainside or springing up from the ground. Such a perfect metaphor of You as the everlasting, satisfying, restorative source of abundant life in which everyone is invited to drink.
Prayer for me
I am always saddened when I read about Your people abandoning You. The lure of a lifestyle so reprehensible in Your sight drew them away from You, the One who had provided for them and saved them in majestic fashion. Instead of relying on the fountain, they built cisterns to capture rainwater. They plastered the insides, but over time, the cistern cracked and leaked. In reality, they turned their backs on You and devised their own system to connect with another god. The god in the cistern. But just as water in a cistern grows stale, so does a false god. That god doesn’t move, doesn’t work, doesn’t cleanse. Let me pray this metaphor over my life. Through the Prophet Jeremiah, Your Spirit is asking me, “Do I forsake the living fountain for the god in the cistern?” Am I drawn to a habit, a time-waster, a social norm, or any temptation luring me off the path I am walking with You? Move my spirit to recognize it! Once recognized, I pray for pardon and the strength of Your Spirit to lead me back to our path.
Prayer for others
Lord, I pray for those who know You but have abandoned You. They hear the rush of the flowing stream and the spray of the fountain, but they turn away from it and stand at the cistern. I have been praying for such a person, and You have graciously moved in him to turn back toward the living fountain. All praise to You for this amazing transformation! Do it again! (Please.)
More praise
I praise You, Father, Son and Spirit, for offering water, that once swallowed, will quench my spiritual thirst forever. I drink You in, and a well of water springs up within me now and forever. I am a well-watered soul!
Paul, called as an apostle of Christ Jesus by God’s will, and Sosthenes our brother. To God’s church in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus and called as saints with all those in every place who call on the name of Jesus Christ our Lord-both their lord and ours. Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Corinthians 1:1-3
My words…
Praise
The Apostle Paul wrote such beautiful salutations, didn’t he? This one makes me want to be a Corinthian. But the more I ponder, the more I come to believe I am a Corinthian, or rather, very like one. I have a lot in common with those church-goers, meeting in the sixth century. We are both sanctified in Christ. Hallelujah! We both call on the name of Jesus as our Lord. And we are both called as saints. Saints! Just as the Corinthians were gifted this title through You, so am I. We saints, we’re a numerous group, spanning centuries and continents. A few have become famous outside the realm of devotion to You, like Saint Patrick on whose holy day we wear green and speak with an Irish brogue. A shame. Then there is Saint Teresa of Avila. Her prayers, words wrapped in sweet reverence and peaceful consolation, lead any reader winging toward You in the heavens. I can picture her now, instructing angels in praise. And then there’s the woman who cleans bed pans at the nursing home, praying over each patient. She’s a saint. The man who struggles with addiction, calling on Your name. He’s a saint, too. We’re everywhere!
Prayer for me
Some believe one can be either a sinner or a saint. Untrue. I am a sinner and a saint, just like every other saint who has ever lived. You have given me this title to set me apart as Yours. I fall short of walking daily as a reflection of You, and I hate that. So I pray Your Spirit lead me toward a deeper understanding of sainthood, and forgive me when I don’t appreciate everything associated with that precious title.
Prayer for others
Paul was intent on praying for saints. When he met a group of believers then had to leave them, he always remembered them in prayer to You. He loved spending time with saints, as do I. In memory of Paul, I pray for those in Your church, those I have sat beside in the same pew, those I have laughed and cried with. We have called on Your name together, lifted our hearts in worship to You week after week, year after year. We have patterned our lives after Yours. Although we declare we are sanctified in You, Jesus, some are burdened with a heavy load of guilt or doubt or both. Others are being pierced by Satan’s flaming arrows, and they are too weary to hoist their shield of faith. Still others struggle to see You through their particular heartache. Remind them of their sainthood, Father! Pull them toward You, the place of grace and peace.
Thank You
I have noticed that artists portray saints with bright halos above their heads. I don’t read anything about halos in Scripture, but I have to admit, I like them; the person with the halo is the holy person, the one set apart from everyone else in the painting. You have graced me with the same title as the apostles and Paul and Mary and all the other saints wearing halos. I am not worthy to be in such company, but I thank You that I am.
More praise
Being titled is a big deal. Titles are often bestowed by a king. Mine is bestowed by The King. Of all the titles I’ve had (Miss, Mrs. chief cook and bottle washer), I like this one best. I thank you for it. (And I hope there are halos in heaven.)
When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took His clothes and divided them into four parts, a part for each soldier. They also took the tunic, which was seamless, woven in one piece from the top. So they said to one another, “Let’s not tear it, but cast lots for it, to see who gets it.” John 19:23-24
Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens-Jesus the Son of God- let us hold fast to the confession. Hebrews 4:14
My words…
Praise
Lord, whenever I read a particularly poignant scene, whether it be from a book of fiction or scripture, I close my eyes and attempt to place myself in that scene, standing afar off or hovering overhead, like a ghost. When I read about your gruesome death, the bare, physical facts of it, I struggle to maintain my ghostly presence. The air is saturated with the smell of sweat and blood. The agonizing cries of the robbers, hanging on your right and left, mingle with jeers from the crowd and the sobs of women. Your head hangs to one side. A thin stream of bright red blood trickles from an embedded thorn and runs across your eye, purple and swollen shut. Every inch of your body is caked with blood and dirt. I’ve seen enough. Just when I’ve decided to open my eyes and flee the first century, my attention is diverted to a group of Roman soldiers gathered nearby. Since their eyes have grown numb to the brutal spectacle of crucifixion, they find something to help wile away the hours until they are called upon to break the legs of the criminals and send them to their anticipated death. A game begins, right there at the foot of the cross. What are the chances they would confiscate a seamless garment owned by a reviled Jew? Too valuable to divide, they gamble for it. As the game ends, and the victorious soldier clutches the garment in his grimy hand, I wonder who made it. A woman, I believe, must have woven it on her loom and presented it to You, her Lord, as a token of her adoration. It must have been extremely difficult and time-consuming to create. Knowing that only high priests wear seamless tunics, the gift is appropriately given and received. The weaver used her talents to offer You an act of worship. She sacrificed her time and energy to create a perfect gift for her perfect Savior. It was…seamless.
Prayer for me
I’m not a weaver. I wish I could have known that first century woman with the talented, nimble fingers. I only have her example to follow. What gift of love may I present to You? I look to Your Holy Spirit to teach me, each day, how to live as You intend me to live, so I may present my life as a gift to You. However, my life is not a perfect seamless, garment. It’s been ripped and patched. You should know. You’re the One who patched it.
More Praise
I often wonder what that Roman solider did with your seamless garment. Did he wear it? Sell it? It doesn’t matter, does it? When You accepted that gift, You lifted the spirit of that lowly weaver to new heights. She was never the same. You do the same to me. I offer You my threadbare life. It doesn’t matter that it’s tattered. You make me…seamless. And I am never the same.
The sacrifice of the wicked is detestable to the Lord, but the prayer of the upright is His delight. Proverbs 15:8
My words…
Praise
I imagine there are many things in which You delight. New life bursts into the world every second. One person selflessly serves another. Orphans are adopted. Addicts find the road to recovery. A tormented soul is transformed by Your forgiveness and love. My prayers aren’t anywhere near this delightful, but apparently, my haphazard, stifled, wandering prayers delight You. What does that say about You? You aren’t very picky when it comes to prayers. You can’t wait to hear from me. You are genuinely interested in what happens to me, even on the boring days. You do not rank prayers according to their eloquence. You do not line them up and listen to them one at a time, according to the faith of the one praying. You do not give some more prominence than others; the prayer of a child is as delightful to You as the prayer of a king.
Who is the upright? Anyone lifting their spirit to you in prayer. You must be bombarded. How delightful for You!
Don’t get drunk with wine, which leads to reckless actions, but be filled by the Spirit: speaking to one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing and making music from your heart to the Lord, giving thanks always for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another in the fear of Christ. Ephesians 5: 18-21
My words…
Praise
I imagine my body, my heart, and my mind as one empty wine glass being filled by You to the point that I become (as Dallas Willard would say) “God-intoxicated.” No alcohol required. Paul is correct (of course he is) when he offers evidence of a God-intoxicated life. There’s nothing reckless about it. I don’t stumble and stagger; I walk the path of wisdom. I sing as if my heart is a fountain gushing praise. Friends in Low Places is replaced by Higher Ground. I don’t boast or brag; I submit – to You and to others. I don’t get it right very often, but my shortfalls are covered by Your mercy and grace. I don’t propose a toast; instead, I offer You my sincere gratitude for everything: Your love and faithfulness (including Your faith in me), what I learn from You through my suffering and Yours, my children and their children yet unborn, my soul-mate, my fellow disciples, David’s Psalms, heaven, and birds (every single one of them).
Being filled by Your Spirit is like being filled with beautiful light. No hangovers. No headaches. And I can drive while intoxicated.
We must, therefore, pay even more attention to what we have heard, so that we will not drift away. Hebrews 2:1
My words…
Lord, You have given Your children what we need to stay anchored in this life. Your very words, intentions, hopes, instructions, and commands are freely available to us. Your word is alive because You are alive. All we need to do is pay attention. Consistently. And therein lies the rub.
Prayer for me
If I don’t make a habit of feeding on Your word like I feed myself food, I will drift. Your word doesn’t drift away from me. I drift away from it. I reason it out this way: I am not drifting away from You as my God, I just get carried along on a different current away from Your word. But it’s the same thing, isn’t it? You are Truth. Your word is Truth. The only way for me to stay anchored beside You is to keep Your word in front of me. All the time. I’m reaching out to You for Your help. All the time.
Forgive me
I pray Your forgiveness when I dare place any other word before Yours and when I don’t yield my stubborn will to Your teaching. At times, I grow weary, my eyes burn, my mind longs to put my thoughts to rest. One time leads to another, and another. The pages of my Bible aren’t turned for days. (Especially when my reading schedule assigns me to Leviticus, and all I can think about is skipping to Jericho.) Forgive me for taking advantage of Your patience and mercy.
Prayer for others
Lord, I pray for those who are drifting and have been doing so for too long. Put Your words in front of their eyes somehow! Draw them back toward the Truth so they may live the abundant life You will for us all.
More praise
Drifting is a sad, unsettling thought: being carried along without direction. I remember times when I felt I was drifting as a parent, as an employee, as a teacher. But the most unsettling were the times when I was drifting away from You and Your word. When I would finally admit that truth and turn back toward where You were, THERE You were, as if You had tagged along behind. Thank You, God.
Make your own attitude that of Christ Jesus, who, existing in the form of God did not consider equality with God as something to be used for His own advantage. Instead He emptied Himself by assuming the form of a slave, taking on the likeness of men. And when He had come as a man in His external form, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even to death on a cross. Philippians 2: 5-8
My words…
Praise
Divine Jesus, whatever substance or energy that makes up who You are, that current of perfect power, not created but infinitely You, is what makes You God and God alone. The heavenly realm must swirl with the intensity of it! In my limited comprehension, I see You as a force of love, like a perpetual power plant, manufacturing all the love that exists in the heavens and on the earth. Every wisp of genuine love, expressed by angels or humans, is a product of who You are. Love does not remain apart from You. And this is why You acted the way You did, intentionally living as a human among humans, emptying Yourself to become not just a man, but a servant, and not just a servant, but one who willingly stretched out his arms on a cross. For me.
Prayer for me
The Apostle Paul writes that I should make my attitude like that of Yours: willingly emptying myself to assume the role of a servant. I’m not very good at that. I can serve, and I do. But only to the extent it doesn’t interfere too much with my daily routine. In other words, I only empty myself to a certain level, just before it gets uncomfortable, then I stop. I cling too tightly to the stuff I like the most in my life: my hobby time, my spending money, my streaming service. I need an emptying lesson. Will You help me?
Forgive me
Forgive me when I have filled myself up to the brim with ME: what I want; what I think; where I’ll be the next day, the next year. How could there be room for anything else? Anyone else? Forgive me when I take the easy way out and think only of myself and forget (or refuse) to kick myself out of the way and let Your Spirit go to work in my life.
Thank Youand Praise
Thank You for Your humility. As God, You could have behaved however You wanted: shoving Your divinity down people’s throats, insisting on being worshiped everywhere You went, reminding sinners of their unworthiness. Instead, You leaked compassion from every pore, You spoke hope to the leper, and comfort to those in pain. You never stopped teaching. You never settled down. You moved along toward Your undeserved death sentence as Your Father willed. Such emptying. I praise You and lift You up as the perfect example of how humans should treat each other.
You are to construct the tabernacle itself with ten curtains. You must make them of finely spun linen, and blue, purple, and scarlet yarn, with a design of cherubim worked into them. The length of each curtain should be 42 feet, and the width of each curtain six feet; all the curtains are to have the same measurements. Five of the curtains should be joined together and the other five curtains joined together. Make loops of blue yarn on the edge of the last curtain in the first set, and do the same on the edge of the outermost curtain in the second set. Exodus 26:1-5
My words…
Praise
I have always been amazed by the level of detail You required in the construction of the tabernacle. The table, the lampstand, the altar, the ark of the covenant, all so meticulously designed down to the cubit. All very orderly of You. I have often wondered what the tabernacle would have looked like if You had said, “Just build it however you Israelites see fit.” I daresay it would have been chaos. And if it’s one thing You know how to order and prevent, it’s chaos. Before the watery depths and the floodgates of the sky burst open on Noah, You ensured he had the plans to build the ark to Your exact specifications, down to the cubit. When the Israelites departed Egypt as freed slaves, You commanded Moses to assemble the community and record their ancestry by their clans and their ancestral houses, counting one by one the names of those 20 years or older. So orderly of You. And The Law! Burnt offering, grain offering, priestly garments, clean and unclean animals, cleansing skin diseases, holy days, sexual offenses – nothing left to chance. As long as Your well-defined, straight path was followed, chaos remained locked away, and Your children thrived. Your detailed instructions and commandments and statutes were given during the times when no one else knew what to do. It was You, the wise, loving Father, providing for the needs of Your children. You did it then through stone tablets and prophets. You do it today through Your Spirit.
Prayer for me
You know me: I like order. My spools of thread are stored according to color, my spices alphabetically, and my books by genre. Weeds have a very short life span in my yard, and I receive a great deal of satisfaction using a power washer. (See, I am made in Your image!) But all of that doesn’t mean diddly-squat if chaos is having a field day in my soul. Who cares if my clothes are arranged by sleeve length if my spiritual disciplines are in disarray, or worse, non-existent? You never intended for me to spend more time organizing my “stuff” than I do spending time with You in Your word, in prayer, and in solitude. So, I pray that my spirit will learn more from Your precise Spirit living within me.
Forgive me
Forgive me, Lord, when a cluttered closet calls to me more loudly than a cluttered spirit.
Prayer for others
Lord, I pray for those who don’t know You as the God who chases away chaos and brings order into the most out-of-order lives. Only You have the power to shape an undefined, inchoate life. Move in their lives! Hover over them! Pursue them!
Thank You
Thank you for empowering me with Your Spirit to stand against the lure of chaos as You guide me along a straight path. I don’t fear the rat’s nest of life when You’re with me.
More praise
Jesus, I praise You as the deliverer of those whose lives are governed by chaos – where chaos rules. When You wore flesh, You rendered demons powerless and offered healing to the blind, deaf, and lame. You spoke order from chaos. I see you working still from the right hand of the Father. The turmoil caused by addiction, abuse, abandonment, and anxiety dissipates when lives are surrendered to You. You calmed the storm when Your disciples despaired. You can calm anything.
When He entered Capernaum, a centurion came to Him, pleading with Him, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, in terrible agony!” “I will come and heal him,” He told him. “Lord,” the centurion replied, “I am not worthy to have You come under my roof. But only say the word, and my servant will be cured. For I too am a man under authority, having soldiers under my command. I say to this one, ‘Go!’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come!’ and he comes; and to my slave, ‘Do this!’ and he does it. Hearing this, Jesus was amazed and said to those following Him, “I assure you: I have not found anyone in Israel with so great a faith!” Then Jesus said to the centurion, “Go. As you have believed, let it be done for you.” And his servant was cured that very moment. Matthew 8:5-11, 13
Jesus came to His hometown, and His disciples followed Him. He began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard Him said, “What is this wisdom given to Him, and how are these miracles performed by His hands? Isn’t this the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James, Joses, Judas, and Simon? And aren’t His sisters here with us? So they were offended by Him. Jesus was not able to do any miracles there, except lay His hands on a few sick people. And He was amazed at their unbelief. Mark 6:1-6 selected
My words…
Praise
Jesus, You, who spoke creation into being, who watched as the first atoms formed molecules, and molecules formed cells that comprise a whiskered walrus and a whiskered man. You who witnessed the birth and death of dinosaurs. You who completely understands the intricate workings of the universe, from a magnetar to a dung beetle. You cannot be easily amazed, which compels me to sit up and take notice when I read of two instances when You were. What amazes You? Tenacious faith and startling unbelief. You as God expected it; You as man were stopped in Your tracks. A Roman ruler, raised in the shadow of pagan temples, called You Lord and believed You could do what had yet to be seen: heal from afar. Your disciples were both dumbfounded and attentive. Had they seen you that amazed? You made sure they did. In your hometown, unbelief oozed down the walls of the houses and meandered down the streets like lava. Your work was impacted by their overwhelming lack of faith in You and Your message. As God, You expected it. As man, You sadly shook the dust from Your feet. I wonder: How often are You pleasantly amazed by Your followers?
Prayer for me
Lord, I pray I will grow to possess an amazing faith, a faith put to action when I ask You to work in my life, and I am positive You will act. No hemming and hawing but a bold surety like the Roman centurion.
Forgive me
Pardon my sin, Lord, when I don’t respond appropriately to You as the Son of God. The people of Nazareth watched You grow up, and they couldn’t see You as anything but Joseph and Mary’s boy. Forgive me when You are more amazed at my lack of faith than the strength of it.
More praise
I hope You are constantly amazed, Lord. Amazed by Your followers the world over. You paid too dear a price to not be surrounded by a cloud of our confident faith in You. I don’t like to think of You as disappointed, sorrowful, or disheartened. Just amazed.
