Romans 8:28 And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.
When I was in school, it seemed they ran a “fire drill” at least once a year. A long, loud, kind of scary bell would sound and we knew it was either a real fire, or, more likely, just another drill. We were formed into lines, ushered down the halls, and out the doors we went. Of course, the point was practice….so we would be prepared for a real fire.
Drills are preparations for real threats. They are “trials”. They test and prepare our readiness, give us opportunity to try on the emotions and actions we would experience in a genuine crisis. We need them and should even “count it pure joy” because they’re necessary for our growth and maturity [James 1]. And trials are graduated; that is they get harder, kind of like math tests, they seem even to build on one another. Abraham’s life was like that; just consider the different trials he endured leading to the sacrifice of Isaac.
Life in the world has always been full of real dangers, threats, crises, and disasters, though some of us have been spared from much of them. Yet now, it seems, we’ve got a tough drill to face; one which can really test our mettle. Uncertainty, limitation, perplexity, discomfort, maybe illness and genuine lack, altogether pack the power to raise our emotional temperature and really threaten our trust. Some people are unfazed but plenty of others are moved toward the edges of their capacity to cope.
It’s time to discover our resources; first of all, to remember our Father’s providence in every past drill that He sent us. Even when there was a real fire, He somehow got you out the door. You learned something on the other side of the threat; you were changed. He was there.
This word, “All things work together for good to them that love God and are the called according to His purpose”, is deeply apprehended by people whom the Lord has taken through serious troubles. “Suffering produces perseverance, (and) perseverance, character…”
We were born for this, and we were born again for this. Our life here is simply a preparation for eternity. Trials are preparation for eternity because they perfect our faith and form the character of Christ in us. Don’t be surprised when they escalate; the goal is for us to graduate. Anxiety and panic are not for us, but for the faithless. We just need to tell each other that God will pull us through, and will shortly take us Home. We know the drill. We can pass through…
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]When we read the promises of God, we must read them the way we ourselves want to be heard—in full context. Just as we expect others to understand our words in light of what we’ve said before, God expects us to interpret His promises in light of all He has revealed in His Word.
A few days ago, I shared a quote from B.J. Willhite, and today I want to delve deeper into his powerful insight. He wrote, “The law of prayer is the highest law of the universe—it can overcome the other laws by sanctioning God’s intervention. When implemented properly, the law of prayer permits God to exercise His sovereignty in a world under the dominion of a rebel with free will, in a universe governed by natural law.”
When God spoke to Abram, the command was clear yet profoundly personal. The Hebrew phrase lech lecha carries a dual meaning: “go forth” and “go for yourself.” This journey wasn’t just a physical relocation; it was a spiritual pilgrimage—a call to walk out God’s will and to walk into his divine inheritance. Abram’s journey was not merely about distance but about destiny.
In the stillness of a desert night, surrounded by cut offerings and the lingering scent of sacrifice, Abram beheld something utterly sacred — God Himself, in the form of a smoking oven and a burning torch, passing between the pieces of a covenant. It was not Abram who walked through the blood-soaked path. It was God alone. And that changes everything.
Tonight we’ll participate in the Independence Day celebration in Israel — and what a party! — shows, fireworks, music, dancing, everything under the sun!
Yesterday, Israel observed Yom HaShoah—Holocaust Remembrance Day—honoring the memory of the six million Jews who perished. Tragically, a recent poll reveals that nearly half of Israelis fear the possibility of another Holocaust. In light of this sobering reality, I want to share a powerful story of one remarkable woman who rescued 2,500 Jewish children from the ghettos during World War II.
One night a house caught fire and a young boy was forced to flee flames by jumping to the ground from the roof. His father stood on the ground below with outstretched arms, calling to his son, “Jump! I’ll catch you.” But the boy was afraid — he couldn’t see his father — all he could see was flame, smoke, and blackness. He was afraid. Still, his father kept yelling: “Jump son! I will catch you!” But the boy refused, crying, “Daddy, I can’t see you!” His father replied, “It’s ok son — I can see you — and that’s all that matters!”