Ginnie Hislop received a standing ovation as she was handed her master’s degree diploma in 2024. Why? It came eighty-four years after she’d completed her coursework! In 1941, she needed only to submit her thesis. But her then boyfriend, George, was suddenly called to serve during World War II. The two quickly married and headed to his army outpost—leaving Ginnie’s nearly realized degree behind. But after a lengthy pause, she was finally able to complete what she’d started.

Ezra was a student of Scripture—one who truly had an “advanced degree” in God’s law—who’d been waiting years to return to Jerusalem from exile in Babylon. “Ezra had devoted himself to the study and observance of the Law of the Lord, and to teaching its decrees” (Ezra 7:10). Zerubbabel and a group of Israelite exiles had been permitted to return from Babylon to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem decades earlier (2:1-2). And now Ezra, who had “the gracious hand of his God . . . on him” (7:9), was leading more exiles to Jerusalem. God would use him to reform and restore the proper worship of Him according to Scripture: “Ezra opened the book [of the Law]. All the people . . . bowed down and worshiped the Lord” (Nehemiah 8:5-6).

Ezra had to wait decades, but he completed his calling in God’s strength. In His power, let’s persist in finishing the work He has for us.

A pack of hyenas surrounded a lone lioness. When the cackling beasts attacked, the lioness fought back. Biting, clawing, growling, and roaring in a desperate attempt to ward off her enemies, she finally fell. As the clan engulfed her, another lioness came to the rescue with three helpers only seconds behind her. Though outnumbered, the big cats fought off the hyenas until they scattered. The lionesses stood together, scanning the horizon as if expecting another attack.

Believers in Jesus desperately need help from others too. The most powerful help we can offer is prayer. The apostle Paul wrote in a letter to the church in Rome, “I urge you, brothers and sisters, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by the love of the Spirit, to join me in my struggle by praying to God for me” (Romans 15:30). Paul asked them to pray that he would “be kept safe from the unbelievers in Judea” and that the “Lord’s people” would receive him and his gifts “favorably” (v. 31). He acknowledged the rewards of being a part of their community (v. 32). He stood with them in prayer, too, ending his letter with a blessing: “The God of peace be with you all” (v. 33).

As we live for Jesus, we’ll face adversaries in the physical and spiritual realms. God promises to be with us and fight on our behalf, however, as we stand together . . . always ready to pray.

Morse was the son of a Protestant minister and a struggling painter of landscapes. In the 1820s, he made a meager living as a limner—“an itinerant painter” of colonial America. But his was a life God led in another direction. Morse also had an interest in science. He learned about electromagnets, conceiving an idea that would change the world. In 1832, Samuel F. B. Morse conceived the idea of an electric telegraph and later went on to make the first working telegraph.

Probably the most dramatic biblical account of “career change” was that of Saul, who was “breathing out murderous threats” against believers in Christ (Acts 9:1). Jesus appeared to him in a great light (v. 3) saying that Saul was persecuting Him. Essentially, Saul was told to stop because he was under new orders now (v. 6). Saul did a U-turn in his life and assumed a new identity in Christ as the apostle who would eventually spread the gospel wherever he went.

Sometimes what we think is our future really isn’t. God leads us in another direction. Perhaps He needs to call us out of our sin. Or maybe it’s a change of ministry or vocation. When God redirects our lives, we do well to stop what we’re doing and follow our new orders. And as our new path opens before us, we might just echo the joy of the first dot-and-dash message of Morse’s telegraph: “What hath God wrought!”

In her blog post “Regrets of the Dying,” Bronnie Ware outlines regrets she heard as a nurse caring for the terminally ill. Among them were “I wish I hadn’t worked so hard” and “I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.” Perhaps most intriguing: “I wish that I had let myself be happier.”

“Facing our own inevitable death is a fabulous tool for joy-filled living,” Ware writes. That’s sound advice, but what is the source of such joy? Where do we find ultimate meaning?

As a young man, John the disciple held a distorted view of life’s purpose. He and his brother asked Jesus, “Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory” (Mark 10:37). Their request only sparked dissension among the disciples (v. 41).

Decades later John held a drastically different view—one of love and community in Jesus. John saw Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection as foundational to everything. “We proclaim to you the eternal life,” he wrote (1 John 1:2). John told us about Jesus so that “you also may have fellowship with us” (v. 3). Then he added, “Our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. We write this to make our joy complete” (vv. 3-4).

Life can bring regrets. Jesus invites us to exchange them for the complete joy only He can give.

Letty, a cleaner in an office building, was known for walking fast—really fast. In doing so, she could easily avoid people. Wounded by poverty and accustomed to condescension, she passed others with one hand reflexively covering part of her face. Her shame, in her words, over not being “like normal, beautiful, educated people,” was profoundly deep. When a woman at work extended her friendship, Letty began to heal.

A man with leprosy lived with a shame perhaps deeper than Letty’s. His disease rendered him revolting and ceremonially unclean by standards of the Mosaic law, separating him from mainstream society. The man’s wounds weren’t just physical; they were also lesions of the soul and spirit. With this woundedness, the leper approached Christ, begging, “If you are willing, you can make me clean” (Mark 1:40). Heal me, he was saying, but also remove my shame.

Jesus responded not with repulsion, but with compassion. “I am willing,” He said, “Be clean!” and reached out and touched the man (v. 41). Just like the friendship extended to Letty by a coworker, Jesus’ gesture was one of understanding all that the man had suffered and of acceptance despite it all.

We may walk through life hiding what we feel separates us from “normal, beautiful people.” May we allow Jesus to touch and redeem these things that cause us shame. May we know that as His children, we’re accepted and loved.

A Florida construction crew working on a $42 million drain project unearthed a valuable treasure. Deep in the soil they found a well-preserved fishing boat from the 1800s. The vessel contained interesting artifacts including part of a kerosene lamp, drinking cups made from coconut shells, and coins. The ship is being studied with the hope that it will provide details of what life was like in that region more than one hundred years ago. “[It’s] more than just the vessel itself. [It’s] this reminder of everyday people,” said one maritime archaeologist. By digging deep, knowledge and wisdom were gained.

Ecclesiastes contains great treasures of wisdom as we study it—ancient wisdom reflecting on the everyday events of that time and ours as well. Solomon reveals how a “wise heart will know the . . . proper time and procedure for every matter” (Ecclesiastes 8:5-6). He wrote that wisdom is found in remembering “all that God has done” (v. 17) and who He is (12:1). God alone provides meaning to life that—apart from Him—is “meaningless” (8:14). His wisdom allows us to experience a contented, joy-filled life in His presence (v. 15).

Ecclesiastes reveals that people will come and go (1:4), as evidenced by the ship found in Florida. But God’s wisdom leads to real and lasting life and purpose (John 10:10). Let’s dig deep into the Scriptures to find the ancient wisdom He provides.

During his church’s fall retreat at a nearby camp, Pastor Jeff took a walk with my son, who led him through a wooded trail to the outdoor chapel. Suddenly they came upon the ark of the covenant! Of course, it wasn’t the real ark, but a life-sized, gold-colored replica begun by my husband years ago, with Jeff’s encouragement, and recently completed by my son as a surprise.

Jeff was so thrilled, he hurried to enlist others to help him bring the ark to the camp dining hall. What a sight to see the men carrying the ark down the road as two of the pastor’s little grandsons trailed behind hand-in-hand!

Scripture tells of the joyous occasion when the real ark of the covenant, which symbolized God’s presence with His people, was brought from the house where it had been kept into its proper place in Jerusalem (2 Samuel 6:12). King David was so overjoyed he danced “before the LORD with all his might” as the people shouted and trumpets sounded (vv. 14-15).

Years later, the Israelites were taken captive to Babylon and Jerusalem was destroyed (2 Kings 25). Scripture doesn’t tell us what happened to the ark. Legends abound, but we no longer need the ark to enjoy God’s presence (John 14:16-17). Through Jesus’ death, resurrection, and sending of the Spirit, God is with all who believe in Christ. That’s an excellent reason to rejoice!

In his book From the Pit to the Pulpit, John Stroup shares about powerful, unfriendly forces of life that battered and bruised him physically, sexually, and emotionally. He notes, “I started using drugs before I could drive a car. . . . I quit school and began to get farther and farther into the criminal lifestyle.” Eventually, John’s crimes landed him behind bars. While serving a five-year sentence, the Bible became real to him, and he was humbled before God. By God’s grace, he was liberated from habits that were previously stronger than he was.

Ancient Israel’s experience often included oppression and sometimes captivity “from the hand of those stronger” than them (Jeremiah 31:11). Even when their predicaments were because of their own folly, God Himself exercised His mercy and might on behalf of His wayward people. Renewal—including joyful singing, abundant harvests, and celebration (vv. 12-14)—was to be expected when God exercised His superior strength for their good.

John Stroup’s life is a testimony to God’s might on behalf of those who place their faith in God’s Son, Jesus. The Gospels witness to Christ’s power to counter the ugly forces of evil in human life. And the strength and power of Jesus can be accessed today through sincere, faith-filled prayer, and heartfelt surrender for all who call on Him (see Acts 2:21).

On a warm evening, I met up with friends in a downtown area. We were excited to eat at a restaurant that offered live jazz music outside, but when we arrived the patio was full. Disappointed, we left and had to walk several blocks to find another place to eat.

On earth, disappointments come in all sizes, both big and small. Beloved pets pass away. Careers fizzle. Health problems occur. We lose relationships with loved ones. In our setbacks, we have God’s comfort, but our life stories don’t always contain the blissful endings we long for. Believers, however, have the hope of a joyful eternity.

The book of Revelation records God giving John a breathtaking vision. John saw “the Holy City, the new Jerusalem” (21:2). “Prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband” (v. 2), it radiated God’s glory. God would inhabit the place along with all His people. In His city there would be no crime, no darkness, and no fear (vv. 25–27). Light, peace, and goodwill would abound.

On the night I met my friends for dinner, we ended up walking back past the first restaurant. White lights lit the sidewalk, and we stopped to listen to the music as we ate ice cream. I savored the moment, but we know that no earthly joy can compare with the ultimate ending believers will enjoy forever.

Traffic came to a halt, but I had no idea why. There were few cars on the road, and I could see no obvious reason to be stopped. And then, suddenly—to my great surprise and delight—thousands of sheep emerged and crossed the freeway. As a newcomer to Idaho, I wasn’t yet familiar with the annual migration of the sheep into the Boise foothills each spring. Local ranchers escort their flocks into the foothills where they graze on the native grasses over the summer.

Because I’d only lived in urban and suburban areas throughout my life, the sight was something of a spectacle to me. Yet sheep were a regular part of living in the days of Ezekiel (and much of the Bible’s recorded history). The prophet drew on something familiar to the people—sheep and shepherding—to convey God’s message to them (i.e. of comfort and hope). 

Ezekiel offered words of comfort and hope to the Israelites, telling them that despite the years of hardship in Babylon—the consequence of their recurrent rebellion against God—He’d one day restore them to “their own land” (Ezekiel 34:13). God would then, like a shepherd, “tend them in a good pasture,” and they would “lie down in good grazing land” (v. 14).

God shows similar care for His people. We can trust Him, our Shepherd, to lead us forward through life—though we may feel “scattered” like sheep in the midst of difficulties—toward good pastures (vv. 12–14).