Cedars and Palms

It’s fun to look at old photos, reminiscing about by-gone days. But if we’re not careful, we can start feeling sad. Old photos reveal how much the passing years have taken from us—our friends, our youthful faces, our favorite old places. We may find ourselves yearning for the irretrievable “good old days.” We aren't alone in this tendency. A similar thing happens to the elderly Jewish exiles who return to Jerusalem with the younger folks to help rebuild the temple. When the foundation of the new temple is laid, everybody shouts for joy—except the old folks. They start to weep. But many of the older priests and Levites and family heads, who had seen the former temple, wept aloud when they saw the foundation of this temple being laid (Ezra 3:12 NIV). These folks are in their seventies and eighties, with childhood memories of Solomon’s magnificent temple still fresh in their minds. The new temple will be unimpressive by comparison. Why should they try to rebuild it? ...

Financial advisors often ask, “Will your nest egg last as long as you do?” It’s a difficult question. How do we know how long we’ll last? Of course, it’s important to plan ahead and budget carefully. But it’s also important to rest our spirits on this heartening word from Jesus: And don’t worry about food—what to eat and drink. Don’t worry whether God will provide it for you….your Father already knows your needs. He will give you all you need from day to day if you make the Kingdom of God your primary concern. So don’t be afraid, little flock... (Luke 12:29-32 NLT) This promise has a lifetime guarantee. Those who prioritize the Kingdom can rely on God’s supply for basic needs. This principle shines brightly even in the Old Testament. Consider an example from Elijah’s life as he serves the Lord. I KINGS 17:1-7. When the famine in Israel begins, the Lord tells Elijah to flee from King Ahab: “ Go to the east and hide by Kerith Brook….Drink from the brook and eat what the rave...

Jesus reads souls. He sees the first stirrings of repentance. He knows when a lost son starts heading home. He senses when a rich person becomes weary of ill-gotten wealth and his own corrupt heart. That’s why Jesus stops, looks up into a tree, and invites himself to lunch at Zacchaeus’ house. Zacchaeus seems an unlikely choice for Jesus’ attention. The man is a chief tax collector, making himself wealthy by working with the Roman authorities and overcharging his fellow Jews for the required taxes. He has other collectors working under him, increasing his wealth by expanding his corrupt influence to his employees.   He is rich and influential, but his countrymen despise him. Oddly enough, Zacchaeus has developed a curiosity about Jesus. Who is this person who heals people and blasts religious hypocrisy? Perhaps someone has told him Jesus’ parable about the Pharisee and the tax collector at prayer. The Pharisee exalts himself as he prays; the tax collector asks only fo...

I remember Christmas mornings long ago. My brother and I dash downstairs at dawn, racing slipper-footed to the tree. We ignore the gifts addressed to other family members. But, oh, we pay great attention to the gifts tagged for us! We squeeze them. We shake them. We can barely wait to tear them open and make them fully ours. These gifts are important. These gifts are for us! A gift is much more significant when we know it’s addressed to us. Interestingly, the birth of Jesus is described as something given “to us”: For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given… For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord (Isaiah 9:6 and Luke 2:10 NKJV, underlining mine). Can you think of anyone else in history born for us? Imagine how odd to read that Augustus Caesar was born for us in Italy in 63 BC.   Augustus was born, yes, but not “for us”. Augustus is not a gift with our name on it. Jesus Christ is. Of course, Jesus’ arriv...

The bathroom mirror is my friend even when it scares me.                                It gave me a fright this morning as I surveyed the night’s damage to my face: puffy eyes, hair sticking out like porcupine quills, leftover mascara stuck to my cheek. So, I begin the morning repair work: hydrate the face, comb the hair, apply some makeup. Before long the damage is reduced. I can face the day presentably. Thank you, honest mirror! The Bible too is an honest mirror. It shows us ourselves. Sometimes the picture isn’t pretty; sometimes it’s downright scary.   We read God’s Word and start to realize we are impatient, or gossipy, or judgmental. There is repair work to be done! At this point, we can close our Bibles and walk away unchanged. But how foolish to do so! James reminds us that seeing ourselves in God’s Word is ju...

We were nervous even before we reached the stadium. We had come to watch our favorite football team play a strong rival. Throughout the game we fidgeted, cheering when our team pulled ahead and agonizing when they fell behind. With one minute remaining, our team was losing by four points. We jumped and yelled until--at the final second--our team scored the winning touchdown. Ah, sweet victory! We could finally breathe normally again. We left the stadium exhilarated, but utterly exhausted. What a contrast to the next day. We relaxed on our couch, watching a reply of the game on TV. We stayed calm even when our team fell behind. Nothing could shake our confidence in the outcome of the game. "We're much more at ease today," I commented. "It's easy to relax," answered my husband. "We already know the final score." His comment reminded me that those of us who follow Christ also know "the final score." Sometime we lose sight of it...

I remember it clearly: I am standing in the airport concourse as people rush past me.                                                  I am a young teen traveling alone for the first time, and I have missed my connecting flight. I have no idea how to continue my journey. I feel bewildered and scared. And I am completely alone. What should I do now? Suddenly someone calls out: “Marion! Where are you headed?” I turn to see a family friend, who happens to pass me on her way to her departing flight.  She stops. Sensing my distress, she knows just what to do. She guides me to the service desk, where I receive an alternate flight to reach my destination. Sixty years later, I still recall the surprise of ...