Our Daily Bread Podcast | Our Daily Bread

“Did your sin also put Jesus on the cross?” That’s the question Dutch painter Rembrandt seems to be asking in his 1633 masterpiece, The Raising of the Cross. Jesus appears in the center of the picture as His cross is lifted and put in place. Four men are doing the lifting, but one stands out in the light surrounding Jesus. His clothing is different; he’s dressed in the style of Rembrandt’s day, wearing a cap the painter often wore. A closer look at his face reveals that Rembrandt has put himself into the painting, as if to say, “My sins had a part in Jesus’ death.” But there’s another who also stands out. He’s on horseback, looking directly out of the painting. Some see this as a second self-portrait by Rembrandt, engaging all who observe with a knowing glance that seems to ask, “Aren’t you here too?” Paul saw himself there, and we may also, because Jesus suffered and died for us as well. In Romans 5:10, he refers to himself and us as “God’s enemies.” But even though our sins caused Jesus’ death, His death reconciles us to God: “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). We stand with both Rembrandt and Paul: sinners in need of forgiveness. Through His cross, Jesus offers us what we could never do for ourselves and meets our deepest need: a new beginning with God.

For years, fitness experts have stressed the importance of running for cardiovascular health. But recent scientific studies have demonstrated that daily walking also has a range of health benefits. According to the US National Institute of Health, “Adults who took 8,000 or more steps a day had a reduced risk of death over the following decade than those who walked only 4,000 steps a day.” Walking is good for us. Throughout the story of the Bible, walking is used as a metaphor for communing with God. In Genesis 3 we’re told how God walked with Adam and Eve “in the cool of the day” (v. 8). Genesis 5 shares the story of Enoch, who “walked faithfully with God 300 years” (v. 22). Enoch’s regular time spent with his Creator led him to be taken directly to be with God. In Genesis 17, God invited Abram to “walk before” Him as He renewed His covenant with him (v. 1). And Jacob, near the end of his life, described God as his shepherd and spoke of his ancestors who had “walked faithfully” (48:15). In the New Testament, Paul instructed us to “walk by the Spirit” (Galatians 5:16). Like Enoch and the patriarchs in Genesis, we can walk with God daily. We do so by surrendering our lives to Jesus and being guided by the Holy Spirit. That’s the path to true health. How’s your walk?

Reflecting on why people tend to be entirely convinced they’re right—even when they’re not—author Julia Galef suggests that it has to do with a “soldier mindset.” When we approach the world with that mindset, we’re focused on defending what we already believe against what we see as threats. Galef believes that for much of life, a more helpful model is that of a scout—someone focused not primarily on eliminating threats but on seeking the complete truth: comprehending “what’s really there as honestly and accurately as you can, even if it’s not pretty or convenient or pleasant.” People with a scout mindset have the humility and integrity to continually grow in understanding as they learn new information. Galef’s insights bring to mind James’ encouragement that believers adopt a similar mindset—one where they’re “quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry” (1:19). Instead of being driven by kneejerk reactions to others, James urges believers to remember that human anger doesn’t lead to God’s righteousness (v. 20). Growth in wisdom is only possible through humble submission to His grace (v. 21; see Titus 2:11–14). When we remember that each moment of our lives is dependent on God’s grace—not on us—we can let go of a defensive need to always be right. And we can choose instead to rely on His grace as we seek His leading for how to live and care well for others (James 1:25–27).

A hardworking clerk, Erin always did her job well. But after she was accused of dishonesty, Erin was put on leave while being investigated. She felt like quitting in protest but was advised to wait it out. “Leaving suggests you’re guilty,” she was told. So Erin stayed, praying for God to give her justice. Sure enough, months later, she was cleared. John Mark may have felt the same when Paul dropped him from the mission team. To be sure, the young man had left them earlier (Acts 15:37-38). But perhaps he had regretted this and was hoping to be included this time. He must have felt unfairly judged by Paul; only Barnabas believed in him. Years later, Paul would change his mind. “Get Mark and bring him with you, because he is helpful to me in my ministry,” he said (2 Timothy 4:11). John Mark must have been relieved to have his reputation restored. When we’re unfairly judged, may we remember that Jesus understands how we feel: He Himself was judged a sinner though He wasn’t, and He was treated worse than a common criminal though He was the Son of God. But He continued to do His Father’s will, knowing that He would be vindicated and shown to be righteous. If you’ve been unfairly judged, don’t give up: God knows and will act in His time.

What if you could understand what your dog was saying? New technology uses “bark” recognition to help determine what feelings canines are expressing when they bark. The artificial-intelligence-enabled collars interpret the dogs’ barks for their owners using data from more than ten thousand barks to identify the emotion they’re expressing. Though the collars don’t enable a word translation, they do foster a greater understanding between owner and pet when something needs the owner’s attention. God used an animal to get Balaam’s attention, too. Balaam saddled his donkey to travel to Moab in response to God’s instructions to “go . . . but do only what I tell you” (Numbers 22:20) The donkey stopped when he saw God’s angel “standing in the road with a drawn sword in his hand” though Balaam couldn’t see it (v. 23). Balaam continued to try to press forward, so God enabled the donkey to speak in human words. When Balaam’s eyes were finally opened to the danger, “he bowed low and fell facedown” (v. 31), admitting his inward intention to either collect a reward or curse God’s people contrary to God’s instructions (vv. 37–38). “I have sinned,” he said. “I did not realize you were standing in the road to oppose me” (v. 34). May we heed the instructions God gives us in the pages of the Bible, through the Holy Spirit’s guidance, and in the wise counsel of others—not just outwardly, but inwardly, too.

In April 1817, a disoriented young woman was found wandering around in Gloucestershire, England, wearing exotic clothes and speaking an unknown language. Assuming she was a beggar, authorities placed her in prison. However, she convinced her captors that she was Princess Caraboo from the island of Javasu. For ten weeks, the community treated her as royalty until a boardinghouse keeper revealed that the woman was, in fact, a servant girl named Mary Willcocks. We may wonder how this young woman deceived an entire community for almost three months. But the book of 2 John warns us that deception is nothing new as it mentions “many deceivers . . . who have gone out into the world” (v. 7). These are people who deny that Jesus Christ came “in the flesh” (v. 7), or those who go beyond what Christ taught (v. 9)—proclaiming that the Bible isn’t adequate for us today. Both these types of deceivers can cause us to not “receive [our] full reward” (v. 8 nlt) and can even trick us into helping them in their work (v. 11). No one likes to be deceived. The people of Gloucestershire didn’t lose much, just some clothing and a few meals. But the Bible says that the consequences of sin and deception continue to threaten us. As we engage with Scripture, God will help us avoid deception as we “walk in obedience to his commands” (v. 6).

After another unexpected health setback, I joined my husband and others during a retreat in the mountains. I trudged up the wooden staircase that led to the tiny church on the top of a hill. Alone in the dark, I stopped to rest on a splintered step. “Help me, Lord,” I whispered as the music began. I walked slowly until I stepped into the small room. I breathed through the lingering pain, grateful that God hears us in the wilderness! Some of the most intimate moments of worshiping God recorded in Scripture took place in the wilderness. While hiding in the Desert of Judah and most likely on the run from his son Absalom, King David sang: “You, God, are my God, earnestly I seek you; I thirst for you, my whole being longs for you” (Psalm 63:1). Having experienced God’s power and glory, David deemed God’s love as “better than life” (v. 3), and it was the reason he committed to a lifetime of worship—even while in the wilderness (vv. 2-6). He said, “Because you are my help, I sing in the shadow of your wings. I cling to you; your right hand upholds me” (vv. 7-8). Like David, regardless of our circumstances or the fierceness of those standing against us, we can demonstrate confidence in God by praising Him (v. 11). Though we’ll suffer, sometimes by no fault of our own, we can trust that God’s love is always better than life.

To improve her sign language skills, Leisa immersed herself in the world of the Deaf. Soon she learned the problems they face. The Deaf are awkwardly ignored by hearing people, are expected to lipread flawlessly, and are routinely passed over for promotions at work. Most public events go uninterpreted. Leisa’s signing steadily improved to the point where she felt at home with the Deaf. At a party, a Deaf person was surprised to learn Leisa could hear. Before Leisa could respond, another friend signed, “She has a Deaf heart.” The key had been Leisa’s willingness to live in their world. Leisa didn’t “condescend” to be with the Deaf. Except for her hearing, she was like them. But Jesus did stoop to reach all of us—to live in our world. He “was made lower than the angels for a little while” (Hebrews 2:9). Christ “shared in [our] humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death.” In doing so, He freed “those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death” (vv. 14–15). More than that, He was “fully human in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God” (v. 17). Whatever we face, Jesus knows and understands. He hears our heart. He’s with us in every way.

Kenny stood before the congregation he’d left years before after he’d lost faith in God. He shared that his belief had been restored. How? God had touched his heart through the beauty and design he saw in creation. Kenny was in awe of Him once more through the witness of God’s general revelation seen in the natural world, and he now embraced the wisdom found in the special revelation of Scripture. After sharing his story, Kenny stepped into the tank of water at the front of the sanctuary. His father, tears of joy in his eyes, baptized him based on his faith in Jesus. After he’d lost much in life, Job’s faith had also been shaken. He said, “I cry to you, O God, but you don’t answer. I stand before you, but you don’t even look” (Job 30:20 nlt). God “spoke to Job out of the storm” (38:1), declaring that it wasn’t about Him not seeing Job but that Job’s vision needed to be expanded as he considered God’s amazing, intricate creation. The “earth’s foundation” and the “morning stars” (vv. 4, 7) and all the creatures, plants, and waters found between (vv. 8-41), pointed to the One Job could trust—the God of amazing love and power. Job responded by saying, “My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you” (42:5). When doubts threaten your faith in Christ, consider the magnificence of God’s creation. He reveals Himself in it if we only have eyes to see.

Phillips Brooks wrote the lyrics to the beloved carol “O Little Town of Bethlehem” after visiting Bethlehem. Brooks, pastor of a church in the US, was so moved by his experience that he wrote this to his Sunday school students: “I remember . . . on Christmas Eve, when I was standing in the old church at Bethlehem, close to the spot where Jesus was born, when the whole church was ringing hour after hour with the splendid hymns of praise to God, how again and again it seemed as if I could hear voices that I knew well, telling each other of the ‘Wonderful Night’ of the Savior’s birth.” In 1868, Brooks put his thoughts into a poem, and his church organist set it to music. The song spoke stillness and peace into the unsettling aftermath of the American Civil War: “O little town of Bethlehem / How still we see thee lie . . . The hopes and fears of all the years / Are met in thee tonight.” The apostle Matthew wrote of our Savior’s birth in Bethlehem in Matthew 2. When the “Magi from the east” (v. 1) followed the star to Bethlehem (see Micah 5:2), “they were overjoyed” to find Jesus (Matthew 2:10). Today, as we celebrate Epiphany, we too need the glorious news of our Savior’s birth. He came to “cast out our sin and enter in” and “be born in us.” In Him, we find peace. Where in your life do you need the peace the Savior offers? What aspect of the Jesus’ story touches you most?

God truly knows all. But according to an article in The Wall Street Journal, the National Security Agency knows a great deal about as well through our smartphone data trails. Everyone who owns a cell phone creates “metadata” that leaves a “digital trail.” While each individual crumb of data might seem insignificant, when it’s combined and analyzed, it provides “one of the most powerful investigative tools ever devised.” By tracing our metadata, investigators can pinpoint where we’ve been or where we are at this moment. Far more superior than the NSA’s digital trail, David said God knows where we are in relation to Him. In Psalm 139, he addressed a prayer to God, the One who alone can search and examine what’s going on inside of us (v. 1). David wrote, “Search me, God, and know my heart” (v. 23). He knows everything about us (vv. 2–6), is present everywhere (vv. 7–12), and “created [our] inmost being” (vv. 13–16). His thoughts are higher than our human understanding (vv. 17–18), and He’s even with us as we face our enemies (vv. 19–22). Because God is all-knowing, ever-present, and all-powerful, he knows exactly where we’ve been, what we’ve been doing, and what we’re made of. But He’s also a loving Father who will help us walk in His ways. Let’s follow Him down the trail of life today.

One year, the leaders of our congregation invited us to give, in addition to our regular weekly offerings, gifts to build a new gymnasium—a space we could use to minister to the families in our community. After prayerfully considering the medical expenses caused by living with a disability, I asked my husband, “Are you sure we can do this?” He nodded. “We’re not giving God anything that’s not already His,” he said. “He’ll provide all we need.” And He did! Over a decade later, our church family still has the privilege of serving Jesus by serving people in that facility. In 1 Chronicles 29, King David showed the leaders of Israel his commitment to support his son Solomon as his God-chosen successor and the builder of the temple (vv. 1-5). Everyone followed suit, “gave willingly,” and “rejoiced” (vv. 6-9). As King David praised God, he declared that “everything in heaven and earth” belonged to Him (v. 11). He prayed: “Lord our God, all this abundance that we have provided for building you a temple for your Holy Name comes from your hand, and all of it belongs to you” (v. 16). As we consider all God has done and given to us, specifically the gift of a personal relationship with Jesus, we can express our worship and show our gratitude and love by simply giving back to God, the Giver of all good things!

Fear woke me at 3 a.m. on the first day of the new year. The year ahead weighed heavily on me, overwhelming me with dread. Illness in the family had long wearied me, and now, thoughts of the future made me afraid. Will more bad things happen? I wondered. Jesus’ disciples understood the fear of bad things happening. Even though their Master had prepared and reassured them the day before He died, they were still afraid. They fled when He was arrested (Matthew 26:56); Peter denied Him (John 18:15−17, 25−27), and they went into hiding (John 20:19). Their fear during the upheaval of Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion, as well as of persecution, led them to act contrary to His command to “take heart” and His promise, “I have overcome the world.” But Jesus’ death and resurrection proved His authority and power over life and death. He has the ultimate victory. Even though the sinful state of our world makes suffering a certainty, we can rest in the truth that all things are subject to the authority of our wise and loving God. His presence and peace are with us (John 16:32−33), just as it was with His disciples, who later confidently went on to share the gospel to the world. May God’s promise that He’s in control strengthen our hearts to trust Him in this new year and be courageous even when we don’t know what the future will bring.

As Hurricane Laura raged toward Louisiana’s coast in the US, the warnings were dire. One sheriff, noting the 150-mile-per-hour winds, issued this jolting message: “Please evacuate. But if you choose to stay and we can't get to you, write your name, address, social security number and next of kin and put it in a Ziploc bag in your pocket. Praying that it does not come to this.” Rescue crews knew that once Laura hit land, there was little they could do. They could only watch the storm’s destructive path—helpless in its wake. Whenever God’s people faced calamity in the Old Testament, however, His words were much different, far more certain and hopeful. Whether they faced natural disasters or the effects of her own rebellion, God promised His presence in the midst of their destruction. He said that He would “look with compassion on all her ruins; [and] will make her deserts like Eden, her wastelands like the garden of the Lord” (Isaiah 51:3). And more, God always assured His people of the rescue and healing that would certainly follow if they would only trust Him. Even though “the heavens [would] vanish like smoke,” God said, His “salvation [would] last forever” (v. 6). Whatever the damage, His ultimate goodness toward them would not be thwarted, ever. God doesn’t safeguard us from hardship, but He does promise to never leave us alone, not even in the wildest storm. His restorative healing extends far beyond the ruins.

Most have never heard of Kate Hankey, but she was a remarkable woman. A teacher, evangelist, school organizer, missionary, and poet, she faithfully served Jesus in 1800s England. In 1867, Kate contracted a serious illness. During her recovery, she penned a lengthy poem in two parts “The Story Wanted” and “The Story Told.” The poem expresses in a very personal way her relationship with Jesus and the events of his life. All of Scripture points to Jesus and tells His story. John begins his epistle reminding readers how they had personally experienced Jesus: “That which . . . we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched” (1 John 1:1). Because of our experience of Him, the apostle writes, we’re telling the Jesus story: “The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it” (v. 2). Later, John makes the fascinating comment, “The word of God lives in you” (2:14). In other words, the Jesus story is our story too. We’re called to tell the story of Jesus in light of our own experience with Him. This is what Kate Hankey did in her poem. Eventually, the two parts of her poem became these beloved hymns: “I Love to Tell the Story” and “Tell Me the Old, Old Story.” Perhaps we might, like Kate, find our own words and share our story with Jesus—the unique way in which he loved us, came to us, and rescued us.

In 1939, with the recent outbreak of war for Britain, King George VI sought in his Christmas Day radio broadcast to encourage citizens of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth to put their trust in God. Quoting a poem that his mother found precious, he said: “Go out into the darkness, and put your hand into the Hand of God. / That shall be to you better than light, and safer than a known way.” He didn’t know what the new year would bring, but he trusted God to “guide and uphold” them in the anxious days ahead. The image of God’s hand appears in many places in the Bible, including in the book of Isaiah. Through this prophet, God called His people to trust that He as their Creator, “the first and . . . the last” (Isaiah 48:12), remains involved with them. As he says, “My own hand laid the foundations of the earth, and my right hand spread out the heavens” (v. 13). They should put their trust in Him and not look to those less powerful. After all, He’s their “Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel” (v. 17). Whatever we face as we look toward the new year,* we can follow the encouragement of King George and the prophet Isaiah and place our hope and trust in God. Then, for us too, our peace will be like the river, our “well-being like the waves of the sea” (v. 18).

Jim has been battling a motor neuron disease for more than a year. The neurons in his muscles are breaking down, and his muscles are wasting away. He’s lost his fine-motor skills and is losing his ability to control his limbs. He can no longer button his shirt or tie his shoelaces, and using a pair of chopsticks has become impossible. Jim struggles with his situation and asks, Why is God allowing this to happen? Why me? He’s in good company with many other believers in Jesus who have brought their questions to God. In Psalm 13, David cries out, “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart?” (vv. 1-2). We too can take our confusion and questions to God. He understands when we cry out “How long?” and “Why?” His ultimate answer is given to us in Jesus and His triumph over sin and death. As we look at the cross and the empty tomb, we gain confidence to trust in God’s “unfailing love” (v. 5) and rejoice in His salvation. Even in the darkest nights, we can “sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to [us]” (v. 6). Through our faith in Christ, He’s forgiven our sins, adopted us as His children, and is accomplishing His eternal good purpose in our lives.

When I was a young boy in Ohio, we lived near several construction sites. Inspired by them, my friends and I gathered leftover scraps to build a fort. Borrowing tools from our parents, we hauled wood and spent days trying to make our material serve our purposes. It was fun, but our attempts were poor reflections of the well-constructed buildings around us. They didn’t last long. In Genesis 11, we encounter the first recorded building project. “Let us build ourselves a city,” said the people, “with a tower that reaches to the heavens” (v. 4). A big problem with this effort was that the people did it to “make a name for ourselves” (v. 4). This has been a recurring issue for humans; we build monuments to ourselves and our achievements. Later in the biblical narrative this story is contrasted with Solomon’s motivation for building God’s temple: “I intend, therefore, to build a temple for the Name of the Lord my God” (1 Kings 5:5). Solomon understood that what he built needed to point to God and not himself. This was such an important lesson that he even wrote a psalm about it. Psalm 127 opens with “unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain” (v. 1). Like my childhood fort-building, what we build will not last, but God’s name and what we do for Him has lasting significance.

John was devastated when he lost his job. Closer to the end of his career than the beginning, he knew it would be hard to start over somewhere new. He started praying for the right job. Then John updated his resume, read interview tips, and made a lot of phone calls. After weeks of applying, he accepted a new position with a great schedule and an easy commute. His faithful obedience and God’s provision had met at the perfect intersection. A more dramatic instance of this occurred with Jochebed and her family during the time of Israel’s enslavement in Egypt. When Pharaoh decreed that all newborn Hebrew sons must be cast into the Nile (Exodus 1:22), Jochebed must have been terrified. She couldn’t change the law, but there were some steps she could take to obey God and try to save her son. In faith, she hid him from the Egyptians. She made a little, watertight reed basket (2:3), then sent her baby boy down the river. God stepped in to miraculously preserve his life (v. 10) and later used him to deliver all of Israel from slavery (3:10). John and Jochebed took very different steps, but both stories are marked by faith-filled action. Fear can paralyze us. Even if the result isn’t what we expected or hoped for, faith empowers us to keep trusting in God’s goodness regardless of the outcome.

In the novel About Grace, David Winkler longs to find his estranged daughter, and Herman Sheeler is the only person who can help him. But there’s a hitch. David’s daughter was born from David’s affair with Herman’s wife, and Herman had warned him never to contact them again. Decades pass before David writes to Herman, apologizing for what he’s done. “I have a hole in my life because I know so little about my daughter,” he adds, begging for How should we treat those who’ve wronged us? The king of Israel faced this question after his enemies were miraculously delivered into his hands (2 Kings 6:8-20). “Shall I kill them?” he asks the prophet Elisha. No, Elisha says. “Set food and water before them so that they may eat and drink and then go back to their master” (vv. 21-22). Through this act of grace, Israel finds peace with its enemies (v. 23). Herman replies to David’s letter, invites him to his home and cooks him a meal. “Lord Jesus,” he prays before they eat, “thank you for watching over me and David all these years.” He helps David find his daughter, and David later saves his life. In God’s hands, our acts of grace toward those who’ve wronged us often result in a blessing to us.