“Our Father who is in heaven …” With these words Jesus escorts us into the Great House of God. Shall we follow him? There is so much to see. Every room reveals his heart, every stop will soothe your soul. And no room is as essential as this one we enter first. Walk behind him as he leads us into God’s living room.

Sit in the chair that was made for you and warm your hands by the fire which never fades. Take time to look at the framed photos and find yours. Be sure to pick up the scrapbook and find the story of your life. But please, before any of that, stand at the mantle and study the painting which hangs above it.

Your Father treasures the portrait. He has hung it where all can see.

Stand before it a thousand times and each gaze is as fresh as the first. Let a million look at the canvas and each one will see himself. And each will be right.

Captured in the portrait is a tender scene of a father and a son. Behind them is a great house on a hill. Beneath their feet is a narrow path. Down from the house the father has run. Up the trail the son has trudged. The two have met, here, at the gate.

We can’t see the face of the son; it’s buried in the chest of his father. No, we can’t see his face, but we can see his tattered robe and stringy hair. We can see the mud on the back of his legs, the filth on his shoulders and the empty purse on the ground. At one time the purse was full of money. At one time the boy was full of pride. But that was a dozen taverns ago. Now both the purse and the pride are depleted. The prodigal offers no gift or explanation. All he offers is the smell of pigs and a rehearsed apology: “Father, I have sinned against God and done wrong to you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son” (Luke 15:21).

He feels unworthy of his birthright. “Demote me. Punish me. Take my name off the mailbox and my initials off the family tree. I am willing to give up my place at your table.” The boy is content to be a hired hand. There is only one problem. Though the boy is willing to stop being a son, the father is not willing to stop being a father.

Though we can’t see the boy’s face in the painting, we can’t miss the father’s. Look at the tears glistening on the leathered cheeks, the smile shining through the silver beard. One arm holds the boy up so he won’t fall, the other holds the boy close so he won’t doubt.

“Hurry!” he shouts. “Bring the best clothes and put them on him. Also, put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get our fat calf and kill it so we can have a feast and celebrate. My son was dead, but now he is alive again! He was lost but now he is found!” (Luke 15:22-24).

How these words must have stunned the young man, “My son was dead …” He thought he’d lost his place in the home. After all, didn’t he abandon his father? Didn’t he waste his inheritance? The boy assumed he had forfeited his privilege to sonship. The father, however, doesn’t give up that easily. In his mind, his son is still a son. The child may have been out of the house, but he was never out of his father’s heart. He may have left the table, but he never left the family. Don’t miss the message here. You may be willing to stop being God’s child. But God is not willing to stop being your Father.

by Max Lucado

But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things that I said to you.
—John 14:26

If you ever have had a time when you were discouraged or unsure of what to do and a verse of Scripture suddenly came to mind—a verse you didn’t remember memorizing—that came from the Holy Spirit. It might have been a passage you heard in a sermon a month ago or 10 years ago, but there it was, vividly on display in your mind. That was the Holy Spirit, who brought to your remembrance what you needed to know.

The Holy Spirit helps us in our study, knowledge, and memorization of Scripture. Jesus said, “But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things that I said to you” (John 14:26).

Maybe there have been times when someone asks you a question and your mind goes blank. But all of a sudden, some thoughts came to mind, and you started sharing them. They were so good, you wanted to take notes on yourself. You thought, This is good stuff. Where did this come from? It came from the Holy Spirit. He brought it to your remembrance.

This does not excuse you from the discipline of Bible study. You still have to read it, study it, and memorize it. But having done that, the Bible promises that the Holy Spirit will bring these things to your remembrance.

The Bible tells us that “eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him. But God has revealed them to us through His Spirit. For the Spirit searches all things, yes, the deep things of God” (1 Corinthians 2:9-10). What does God want to show you today?

By Greg Laurie

What difference will my work make?

God’s answer: “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin” (Zech. 4:10).

Begin. Just Begin! What seems small to you might be huge to someone else. Just ask Bohn Fawkes. During World War II, he piloted a B-17. On one mission he sustained flak from Nazi antiaircraft guns. Even though his gas tanks were hit, the plane did not explode, and Fawkes was able to land the plane.

On the morning following the raid, Fawkes asked his crew chief for the German shell. He wanted to keep a souvenir of his incredible good fortune. The crew chief explained that not just one but eleven shells had been found in the gas tanks, none of which exploded.

Technicians opened the missiles and found them void of explosive charge. They were clean and harmless and with one exception, empty. The exception contained a carefully rolled piece of paper. On it a message had been scrawled in the Czech language. Translated, the note read: “This is all we can do for you now.”

A courageous assembly-line worker was disarming bombs and scribbled the note. He couldn’t end the war, but he could save one plane. He couldn’t do everything, but he could do something. So he did it.

God does big things with small deeds.

By Max Lucado

Perhaps you’ve never placed the word courteous next to Christ. I hadn’t until I wrote this chapter.

But you know how you never notice double-cab red trucks until your friend says he wants one—then you see a dozen of them? I had never thought much about the courtesy of Christ before, but as I began looking, I realized that Jesus makes Emily Post look like Archie Bunker.

He always knocks before entering. He doesn’t have to. He owns your heart. If anyone has the right to barge in, Christ does. But he doesn’t. That gentle tap you hear? It’s Christ. “Behold, I stand at the door and knock” (Rev. 3:20 NASB). And when you answer, he awaits your invitation to cross the threshold.

And when he enters, he always brings a gift. Some bring Chianti and daisies. Christ brings “the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:38). And, as he stays, he serves. “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve” (Mark 10:45 NIV). If you’re missing your apron, you’ll find it on him. He’s serving the guests as they sit (John 13:4-5). He won’t eat until he’s offered thanks, and he won’t leave until the leftovers are put away (Matt. 14:19-20).

He is courteous enough to tell you his name (Exod. 3:15) and to call you by yours (John 10:3). And when you talk, he never interrupts. He listens.

He is even on time. Never late. Never early. If you’re checking your watch, it’s because you’re on a different itinerary. “There is a time for everything” (Eccles. 3:1). And Christ stays on schedule.

He even opens doors for you. Paul could preach at Troas because “the Lord had opened a door” (2 Cor. 2:12 NIV). When I asked my dad why men should open doors for women, his answer was one word: “respect.” Christ must have abundant respect for you.

He knocks before he enters. He always brings a gift. Food is served. The table is cleared. Thanks are offered. He knows your name and tells you his, and here is one more.

He pulls out the chair for you. “He raised us up with Christ and gave us a seat with him in the heavens” (Eph. 2:6).

My wife has a heart for single moms. She loves to include a widow or divorcée at the table when we go to a restaurant. Through the years I’ve noticed a common appreciation from them. They love it when I pull out their chair. More than once they have specifically thanked me. One mom in particular comes to mind. “My,” she blushed, brushing the sudden moisture from her eye, “it’s been a while since anyone did that.”

Has it been a while for you as well? People can be so rude. We snatch parking places. We forget names. We interrupt. We fail to show up. Could you use some courtesy? Has it been a while since someone pulled out your chair?

Then let Jesus. Don’t hurry through this thought. Receive the courtesy of Christ. He’s your groom. Does not the groom cherish the bride? Respect the bride? Honor the bride? Let Christ do what he longs to do.

For as you receive his love, you’ll find it easier to give yours. As you reflect on his courtesy to you, you’ll be likely to offer the same.

by Max Lucado

He went a little farther and fell on His face, and prayed, saying, “O My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will.”
—Matthew 26:39

Even Jesus, when He was in the Garden of Gethsemane, recoiled from what was ahead. He prayed, “O My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me.” Jesus, who was sinless and perfect and holy, was looking into the abyss of all the wicked things of this world and knew He would have to bear all that sin upon himself.

Sometimes it is possible for that so-called cup to pass. Sometimes God will answer our prayer in the affirmative and get us out of the situation we are in, like the disciples who cried out for help on the storm-tossed Sea of Galilee, and Jesus calmed the storm. Or like the sick who were healed or the dead who were raised by Jesus.

When a crisis hits and we cry out to God, He often will change our circumstances. I have seen people in the most dire of circumstances have their situation turned around by the power of God. And I think we always should pray for this.

But there are also times when God says, “No, you have to go through it.” We might answer, “Never, Lord.” But ultimately we will have to say, “Yes, Lord.”

I have seen God work through the greatest tragedy of my life. And to be honest, if I could change my circumstances, I would change them and have my son Christopher back with us. But I don’t have that option.

So if we believe in the providence of God, then we know that He is in control of all things. We also know that He allows things for purposes that we will not necessarily understand. So our attitude needs to be, “Lord, I don’t like it. I don’t understand it. I don’t want it. But I will say, ‘Yes, Lord.’ ”

by Greg Laurie

What about your struggles? Is there any chance, any possibility, that you have been selected to struggle for God’s glory? Have you “been granted for Christ’s sake, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake” (Philippians 1:29)?

Here is a clue. Do your prayers seem to be unanswered? What you request and what you receive aren’t matching up? Don’t think God is not listening. Indeed he is. He may have higher plans.

Here is another. Are people strengthened by your struggles? A friend of mine can answer yes. His cancer was consuming more than his body; it was eating away at his faith. Unanswered petitions perplexed him. Well-meaning Christians confused him. “If you have faith,” they said, “you will be healed.”

No healing came. Just more chemo, nausea, and questions. He assumed the fault was a small faith. I suggested another answer. “It’s not about you,” I told him. “Your hospital room is a showcase for your Maker. Your faith in the face of suffering cranks up the volume of God’s song.”

Oh, that you could have seen the relief on his face. To know that he hadn’t failed God and God hadn’t failed him—this made all the difference. Seeing his sickness in the scope of God’s sovereign plan gave his condition a sense of dignity. He accepted his cancer as an assignment from heaven: a missionary to the cancer ward.

A week later I saw him again. “I reflected God,” he said, smiling through a thin face, “to the nurse, the doctors, my friends. Who knows who needed to see God, but I did my best to make him seen.”

Bingo. His cancer paraded the power of Jesus down the Main Street of his world.

God will use whatever he wants to display his glory. Heavens and stars. History and nations. People and problems.

Rather than begrudge your problem, explore it. Ponder it. And most of all, use it. Use it to the glory of God.

Through your problems and mine, may God be seen.

by Max Lucado

Life is tough enough as it is. It’s even tougher when we’re headed in the wrong direction.

One of the incredible abilities of Jesus was to stay on target. His life never got off track. Not once do we find him walking down the wrong side of the fairway. He had no money, no computers, no jets, no administrative assistants or staff; yet Jesus did what many of us fail to do. He kept his life on course.

As Jesus looked across the horizon of his future, he could see many targets. Many flags were flapping in the wind, each of which he could have pursued. He could have been a political revolutionary. He could have been a national leader. He could have been content to be a teacher and educate minds or to be a physician and heal bodies. But in the end he chose to be a Savior and save souls.

Anyone near Christ for any length of time heard it from Jesus himself. “The Son of Man came to find lost people and save them” (Luke 19:10). “The Son of Man did not come to be served. He came to serve others and to give his life as a ransom for many people” (Mark 10:45).

The heart of Christ was relentlessly focused on one task. The day he left the carpentry shop of Nazareth he had one ultimate aim—the cross of Calvary. He was so focused that his final words were, “It is finished” (John 19:30).

How could Jesus say he was finished? There were still the hungry to feed, the sick to heal, the untaught to instruct, and the unloved to love. How could he say he was finished? Simple. He had completed his designated task. His commission was fulfilled. The painter could set aside his brush, the sculptor lay down his chisel, the writer put away his pen. The job was done.

Wouldn’t you love to be able to say the same? Wouldn’t you love to look back on your life and know you had done what you were called to do?

by Max Lucado

And the Spirit said to Philip, “Go up and join this chariot.” Acts 8:29

Have you ever been at your job. or at your desk at school. or doing chores at home, slugging through yet another day and found yourself thinking, “What real difference is my life making, anyway?”

It is very easy to fall into the rut where you draw your breath. and draw your salary. and go through the motions of life but lose the meaning and purpose of your existence on this earth. And what is that meaning and purpose? To chase chariots. Chasing chariots makes life EXCITING and brings GREAT JOY!

PHILIP’S CHARIOT STORY

Philip, a man full of the Holy Spirit and wisdom (Acts 6:3), was called of God to go to a desert road and join himself to a chariot that was traveling from Jerusalem to Ethiopia. Although it must have sounded like a strange request to Philip, he obeyed God and ended up leading a “big shot” (a court official and treasurer for the queen of Ethiopia), to faith in Jesus Christ. What a great story and a great lesson for you and me!

Why are we left here on this earth after receiving Christ as Savior and Lord? Why doesn’t God just take us to heaven immediately and deliver us from the sin, sickness, and depravity that surround us? We are left here to let our light shine for Christ and to tell others about Jesus, “the way, and the truth, and the life.” As the Bible says, “How shall they (lost people) hear without a preacher?” God wants that preacher to be you! It is amazing the difference you and I can make in the lives of hurting, hopeless people as we point them to Jesus through our life AND through our lips.

MY CHARIOT STORY

Just this week, I was eating at a restaurant. When the food came, I asked my waitress, a young woman in her twenties, if I could pray for anything in her life when I prayed over my lunch. Her answer floored me. She said, “Yes. Pray for me. Last summer I lost two children. My two year-old drowned, and a month later, my two month-old died of SIDS.” My heart broke as I saw the great hurt in her eyes.

While it may not have been appropriate in a restaurant setting, I got up and gave her a big hug. I prayed for her, gave her a 500% tip, and asked her to come by the church so we could talk with her. She came by the next day, and our women’s minister and I talked to her, cared for her, prayed for her and, best of all, led her to receive Jesus Christ as her personal Savior and Lord. It brings tears to my eyes to think how God used one simple question – “Is there anything I can pray about for you” – to make an eternal difference in her life.

Regardless of what challenges or difficulties I may have been facing this week, nothing could compare to the joy and excitement I felt knowing God used me to show His love and grace to a young lady who was really hurting and in need of Him.

THE BIG QUESTION?

Will you start chasing chariots for Christ? Will you let your light shine and your lips loose to share the good news of love, forgiveness and life in Jesus? There are opportunities all around us if we will pray and obey.

My friend, Dr. Paige Patterson of Southwestern Seminary, challenged our church to pray three things each day. I would like to challenge you to the same:

1. God give me an opportunity today to tell someone about Jesus.
2. God help me be aware of it when that opportunity comes.
3. God give me courage to open my mouth when that opportunity is before me.

My friend, I truly believe Jesus is coming very soon. May we be found faithful to the main assignment He gave us to d “Go and make disciples of all the nations.”

Jeff Schreve

“A man named Simon from Cyrene, the father of Alexander and Rufus, was coming from the fields to the city. The soldiers forced Simon to carry the cross for Jesus” (Mk. 15:21)

Simon grumbles beneath his breath. His patience is as scarce as space on the Jerusalem streets. He’d hoped for a peaceful Passover. The city is anything but quiet. Simon prefers his open fields. And now, to top it off, the Roman guards are clearing the path for some who-knows-which-dignitary who’ll march his soldiers and strut his stallion past the people.

“There he is!”

Simon’s head and dozens of others turn. In an instant they know. This is no dignitary.

“It’s a crucifixion,” he hears someone whisper. Four soldiers. One criminal. Four spears. One cross. The inside corner of the cross saddles the convict’s shoulders. Its base drags in the dirt. Its top teeters in the air. The condemned man steadies the cross the best he can, but stumbles beneath its weight. He pushes himself to his feet and lurches forward before falling again. Simon can’t see the man’s face, only a head wreathed with thorny branches.

The sour-faced centurion grows more agitated with each diminishing step. He curses the criminal and the crowd.

“Hurry up!”

“Little hope of that,” Simon says to himself.

The cross-bearer stops in front of Simon and heaves for air. Simon winces at what he sees. The beam rubbing against an already raw back. Rivulets of crimson streaking the man’s face. His mouth hangs open, both out of pain and out of breath.

“His name is Jesus,” someone speaks softly.

“Move on!” commands the executioner.

But Jesus can’t. His body leans and feet try, but he can’t move. The beam begins to sway. Jesus tries to steady it, but can’t. Like a just-cut tree, the cross begins to topple toward the crowd. Everyone steps back, except the farmer. Simon instinctively extends his strong hands and catches the cross.

Jesus falls face-first in the dirt and stays there. Simon pushes the cross back on its side. The centurion looks at the exhausted Christ and the bulky bystander and needs only an instant to make the decision. He presses the flat of his spear on Simon’s shoulders.

“You! Take the cross!”

Simon dares to object, “Sir, I don’t even know the man!”

“I don’t care. Take up the cross.”

Simon growls, balances the timber against his shoulder, and steps out of the crowd onto the street, out of anonymity into history, and becomes the first in a line of millions who will take up the cross and follow Christ.

He did literally what God calls us to do figuratively: take up the cross and follow Jesus. “If any of you want to be my followers, you must forget about yourself. You must take up your cross each day and follow me” (Lk. 9:23 CEV).

The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. John 1:14

Whether they are traveling through a small farming town in Nebraska, a surfing village in California or an industrial community in Pennsylvania, politicians love to show how they can relate to the people in that area. But the sad thing is that they can’t really meet those people on the same level; they can’t identify with them no matter how hard they try to make it appear like they can.

Jesus, though, never gives us that illusion of identity. He doesn’t throw up a façade to try and appear like he gets where we are coming from. Jesus Christ connected with the people of two thousand years ago, and he connects with you and me today on a level that we can understand and appreciate.

At one point we’ve all said, “No one understands my situation.” But that statement could not be farther from the truth. Jesus understands; he’s been there; he knows what we go through day in and day out. He had a job – for most of his life he was a carpenter. He had the same relationships that you and I have today – mother, father, brothers, sister, friends, and enemies. He even faced the same temptations that you and I face. Jesus knows what daily living is like. He knows because he’s been there himself.

So this week, when you feel like there is no one that can grasp what you are going through; when you feel like throwing up your hands and giving up; when you have that gut reaction of, “No one understands my situation…” remember that our Savior has been there and then add two words to your statement: “Like Jesus.”

by Ed Young

For more information about this and other subjects, visit the Ed Young Ministries website: www.edyoung.org