Into His Father’s Hands

“No one can take my life from me. I sacrifice it voluntarily. For I have the authority to lay it down when I want to and also to take it up again.” —John 10:18 (NLT) Since the earliest days, faithful Jewish parents have taught their children prayers to repeat at certain times of the day. […]

Mission Accomplished

For God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ. —2 Corinthians 5:21 (NLT) Jesus’ sixth statement on the cross was not a cry of anguish; it was a declaration of victory. He had reached the goal and was able […]

“I Am Thirsty”

Jesus knew that his mission was now finished, and to fulfill Scripture he said, “I am thirsty.” —John 19:28 (NLT) Though Jesus became a man, He never was anything less than God. Yet He voluntarily gave up His own rights as God the Son. He submitted Himself to God the Father, so that every word […]

Near His Heart

When Jesus saw his mother standing there beside the disciple he loved, he said to her, “Dear woman, here is your son.” And he said to this disciple, “Here is your mother.” —John 19:26–27 (NLT) What a contrast we have at the cross! God’s perfect sacrifice—His Lamb—hung there in agony, giving His life, shedding His […]

The Paradox

So the soldiers, their commanding officer, and the Temple guards arrested Jesus and tied him up. —John 18:12 (NLT) Jesus’ first three trials were religious in nature. The accusation was blasphemy, which was an offense that was admissible only in a Jewish court of law. So when Jesus stood before Annas, Caiaphas, and the Sanhedrin […]

Apprehension

The scene is familiar: a hospital lobby with all the trimmings . . . soft sofas and folded newspapers . . . matching carpets and drapes illumined by eerie lighting . . . a uniformed lady at the desk, weary from answering the same questions . . . strange smells . . . and lots of people. Everywhere there are people. A steady stream pours in and out, the faces marked by hurry and worry.

Self-Praise

“Self-praise,” says an ancient adage, “smells bad.” In other words, it stinks up the works. Regardless of how we prepare it, garnish it with little extras, slice and serve it up on our finest silver piece, the odor remains. No amount of seasoning can eliminate the offensive smell. Unlike a good wife, age only makes it worse. It is much like the poisoned rat in the wall—if it isn’t removed the stench becomes increasingly unbearable.

The Final Priority

Somebody copied the following paraphrase from a well-worn carbon in the billfold of a thirty-year veteran missionary. With her husband, she was on her way to another tour of duty at Khartoum, Sudan. No one seems to know who authored it, but whoever it was captured the essence of the greatest essay on love ever written.

Taking Time

Eight words were brashly smeared across the dashboard of the speedboat tied up at Gulf Shores, Alabama. They reflected the flash and flair of its owner whose fast life was often publicized in sporting news across America. In the off-season, the left-handed speedster in the Gulf of Mexico resembled a shiftless, beachcombing drifter with his stubble beard, disheveled hair, and darting eyes rather than one of the highest-paid quarterbacks in Oakland Raider history.

Newborn

Two hours away from our own front door we traveled completely around the world. We didn’t miss a continent. From Paraguay to the Congo. From the Serengeti Plains of Tanzania into the tropical rain forests of Malagasy, across the Indian Ocean to mysterious Malaya. Then it was the tundra of the Arctic Circle, Scandinavia to Mesopotamia, Egypt to China, Manchuria to Siberia.

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