2 Timothy 1:7 For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
A major earthquake struck Taiwan over the weekend, which triggered a tsunami warning as far away as Japan.
This reminded me of when we first moved to Israel in 2003.
I was in my Hebrew class downtown, and my wife and one-month-old baby were alone in our Jerusalem apartment. My wife called me immediately, and this is what she told me; I'll never forget it.
She was sitting in our bedroom with our 1-month-old in her arms when out of nowhere came a sudden loud roaring sound, followed by a shaking of all four walls and all the contents within banging back and forth against them rapidly and with great force. So many things were going through her mind at that moment as she tried to remember what you're supposed to do in a scenario like this. Are you supposed to get under the bed? Or maybe get outside? Yeah, outside! But it would be three flights of steps to get outside, and with a newborn baby in her arms -- how?! She just froze in fright, thinking about what could happen next. But in the midst of it all, Riv looked down at Elianna in her arms. Would you believe she was perfectly content -- happy, smiling, even drifting off to sleep as the whole earth shook all around her. Wow.
Each of us can take a lesson from Elianna. Even in the midst of all the chaos, distress, or crises beyond our control, we must rest, trusting that we're safe in the loving arms of the Father. We shouldn't have a care in the world.
Is your world being shaken right now? Know that God is holding you today. No matter what you're facing, you can trust Him to cover you. Just lay back and enjoy the ride!
Copyright 1999-2024 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]
A farmer was showing his visiting citydwelling friend around his farm. "Watch this!" he said. He gave a whistle and his little dog came running from the house, herded the cattle into the corral, then latched the gate with her paw. "Wow, that's some dog -- what's her name?" The forgetful farmer thought for a minute and then asked, "What do you call that red flower that smells good and has thorns on the stem?" "A rose?" "That's it!" The farmer turned to his wife. "Hey Rose, what do we call this dog?"
I suppose one of the hardest questions to answer is: "Why do I have to deal with so much adversity?!"
Epraphras is not a name you hear much of. He was a member of the church in Colosse, and obviously a dear saint in the Lord. We know that he suffered imprisonment with Paul at one time. But the thing that really impresses me about this saint is what Paul wrote about him– he always wrestled in prayer!
Missionaries Dick and Margaret Hillis found themselves caught in China during the Japanese invasion. The couple lived with their two children in the inland town of Shenkiu. The village was tense with fear, for every day brought terrifying reports of the Japanese advance. At the worst possible time, Dick developed appendicitis, and he knew his life depended on making the long journey to the hospital. On January 15, 1941, with deep foreboding, Margaret watched him leave.
As Joshua led the children of Israel into the promised land it seemed that God had given them an impossible assignment -- to conquer a foreign and hostile land with fortified cities and armies greater than their own. They had to go forth only on the basis of God's promise. They had to walk by faith and not by sight!
Over the weekend, the ministry lost a dear brother who suddenly died of a heart attack. In times of mourning, the realization dawned (once again) that this life is utterly fleeting ... a vapor in the wind ... and these frail human bodies in which we dwell are mortal dust. We are living in the land of the dead and dying, and only those of us who truly know and are known by the Messiah, upon our death, will enter the land of the truly living!
Counselors, encouragers, and people who offer care to others often encounter those whose past failures threaten to define them and hinder their development, healing, and sanctification. Our enemy capitalizes on our failures and regrets, pressing home the current influence of what we could have, would have, or should have done, if only we were wiser, more courageous, honest, or godly.