1 Corinthians 4:5 Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord comes, who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness and reveal the counsels of the hearts. Then each one’s praise will come from God.
I came across a powerful story that I felt led to share with you today.
There was a man who had four sons, and he wanted them to understand the importance of not rushing to judgment. So, he sent each one on a journey to view a pear tree that was far away. He sent the first son in the winter, the second in the spring, the third in the summer, and the youngest in the fall. After they all returned, he gathered them together to hear what they had seen.
The first son said the tree was ugly, bent, and twisted. The second son said it was covered in green buds, full of hope and promise. The third son described it as being full of beautiful blossoms that smelled sweet and were so graceful. But the youngest son said it was full of ripe fruit, heavy with life and fulfillment.
After hearing all their answers, the wise father smiled and said, “Sons, you’re all right—but you’ve only seen one season of the tree’s life. You can’t judge the tree, or anything else, by just one season. Most things can only be understood when all the seasons have passed.”
I think we’ve all been guilty of judging someone or something too quickly, and we’ve probably felt the sting of being judged in the same way. Lord, forgive us! We need to give each other the benefit of the doubt, to take the time to see the bigger picture before making up our minds. Why? Because God does that for us all the time.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]In a world full of uncertainty, this verse from Romans stands like a lighthouse in the storm: “The God of hope…” Not just the God who gives hope, but the very source of it. When everything around us seems shaken — economies falter, nations rage, relationships strain — it is the God of hope who remains unshaken and unchanging.
When Yeshua (Jesus) spoke these words not only to the seventy He sent ahead of Him, but to every disciple who follows Him into the world, it’s a striking picture: fields overflowing with a harvest, ready to be gathered. The problem isn’t the readiness of the harvest — it’s the shortage of workers willing to go.
This piercing question opens Psalm 11 like a cry from the heart in troubled times. It’s a question we ask when law and order collapse, when truth is ridiculed, and when those who do evil seem to triumph. The foundations — the principles of righteousness, justice, and truth that uphold society — are under siege. And it begs the question: What can God’s people do when everything righteous seems to be crumbling?
After one of the greatest spiritual victories in all of Scripture–calling down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel and turning the hearts of Israel back to God–Elijah finds himself blindsided by fear.
Elijah heard what no one else did — a storm was coming. Though the sky was still blue and the ground still cracked from years of drought, Elijah discerned the sound of abundance. It was a prophetic knowing, a spiritual sensitivity that saw past what was visible into what God was about to do.
When Elijah cast his cloak over Elisha in the field, it wasn’t just a symbolic act — it was a divine call. Elisha understood this and responded not with delay or excuse, but with decisive action. After asking to say goodbye to his parents, he returned, slaughtered his oxen, and used the wooden yokes as fuel for the sacrifice. Then he gave the meal to the people and walked away from everything familiar to follow the prophet Elijah.
Elijah had just come through one of the most intense seasons of his life. He had called down fire from heaven on Mount Carmel, seen the prophets of Baal defeated, and yet found himself running in fear from Jezebel, exhausted and discouraged. In the cave at Horeb, he cried out, believing he was alone and that all was lost. But it was there—in the still small voice—that God revealed His presence and His plan.