Editor’s Note: Today’s devotion is provided by Pastor Shan Gian, who serves at Symphony Church in Boston. Shan, a graduate of University of Pennsylvania, just completed the Master of Divinity program at Gordon Conwell Seminary. He is married to Jenny, who is almost 8 months pregnant with their first baby.
Devotional Thoughts for Today
Psalm 131
A Song of Ascents. Of David.
O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child is my soul within me.
3 O Israel, hope in the Lord
from this time forth and forevermore.
Amazon Prime has been among the greatest technological advances of the 21st century. It’s amazing to be able to go online, look for something you want, buy it—and it shows up at your door in two days. We don’t even need to leave our houses. But have you ever bought something on Amazon Prime, and it didn’t get to you in time? It’s happened to me before. I bought a shiny new book, and instead of the expected two days, it took a FULL THREE DAYS to get to me. Oh, the outrage that I felt at this injustice!
We live in such a fast-paced, I-want-it-and-I-want-it-NOW kind of culture that we hate it when we’re made to wait for anything. Whether it’s waiting for a package to be delivered, waiting in line at the grocery store, or waiting for the traffic light to turn green—we don’t like waiting and the uncertainty it brings us. It’s not even just the small, mundane things that make us feel impatient. No one likes the uncertainty that life brings: waiting to find out where we’ll go to college, who we’ll marry, where we should live, what job we should take next, etc.
If David in Psalm 131 were to meet most of us, he would say that we are like “unweaned” children. To wean a child means to gradually move him or her off the breast milk or off the bottle onto solid food. The picture that David gives, though, is more than about food. The weaned child is calm and quiet because he knows that his next meal is coming to him. He’s content because he trusts in his mother or father to take care of him. On the other hand, unweaned children are fussy and demanding; they kick and scream and cry, because they’re hungry and they want food now.
As David has learned to be like a weaned child, he encourages us to do the same. He is able to be patient and say, “I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me,” because he trusts in his Heavenly Father to take care of him. We might not understand why or how or what is going on. We might not even know what life brings in the near or distant future. But we can be like a weaned child and be at peace as we trust in our loving Father. As we worship on this Lord’s day, let us strive for this heart of patience and contentment, trusting that our Father will take care of us.
Prayer
Father, I pray that I will truly worship You and trust You this day. I know I will not know or understand all that’s going on or all that is to come, but I pray that I will be content to know that you love me and will take care of me all of my days. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
Bible Reading for Today: Titus 2
Editor’s Note: Today’s devotional is written by Andy Kim. Andy, a graduate of Northwestern University, is about to complete his M.Div. at Fuller Theological Seminary. He is currently serving as a staff at Radiance Christian Church in San Francisco, CA.
I’m not the biggest fan of politics, but it’s hard not to see how much of it has taken over the news. Even in my limited understanding of the current events, I know that Donald Trump has said some ridiculous things—yet manages to have the support of many people. Many of us are concerned about a man like Donald Trump becoming president, because it would affect us—that’s how we’re trained to think. In any situation we may ask, How does this affect us, or what do I have to gain from this? But what about all the other things that are happening around the world? For example, it is reported that there are over 10,000 refugee children missing in the past two years—some have been criminally exploited and others being unaccounted for. So how do we respond to such news? Maybe we can glean from Nehemiah’s experience.
While the adherents of capitalism wouldn’t be able to say, “There was not a needy person among [us],” that was the claim long made by the communists. But, once the iron curtain came down in Eastern Europe, we discovered that the communist leaders lived in nicer homes and ate better food, while the needs of the rest were barely met.
While serving in Mexico, I used to hand out evangelistic tracts during my daily jog. After returning to the states, I continued the practice—at least for a time. One day while jogging in a park, I ran by three park workers but felt timid to say anything. So I said to God, “If they’re still there when I return, then I will hand out tracts.” I was hoping that they would be gone by then, but they were still there—and I felt just as nervous. Now, what do I do?
The Oakland Athletics was the last team to win three consecutive World Series from 1972 to 1974. Ironically, although the players feuded among themselves, their common dislike for the team owner Charles Finley brought them together. Similarly, Herod and Pilate, who “had been enemies,” became friends over making sport of Jesus (Lk. 23:11-2). Perhaps that friendship pales in comparison to an alliance formed among Franklin Roosevelt, Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin during the World War II. While Roosevelt and Churchill must’ve been horrified to later find that Stalin engineered the genocide of millions of people, including the Russian leader in the alliance must have seemed like a good idea since their common enemy was Hitler.
Editor’s Note: The AMI QT Devotionals for February 15-16 are provided by Doug Tritton. Doug, a graduate of University of Pennsylvania, is currently pursuing a M.Div. at Gordon Conwell Seminary while working fulltime. He is married to Cindy and they serve at Symphony Church in Boston.
When I was in middle school, I had to give a presentation in one of my classes—this was so frightening to me. Never before had I stood before a group of people to give a talk for more than a few seconds. Extremely nervous, I gave my presentation, but unable to really think about what I was saying. Afterwards, I remember my teacher asking me if I even breathed once during my presentation; apparently, I was so nervous that I could not even breathe!
In my current job, I work on the release of tech products. There is much momentum as we work on the hottest new trend and put great effort into launching the product; but then once we finish and release it, there is a lull. Since we are not in sales, we do not know right away how the product is doing in the market—and so all we can do is wait and see.
Here is a sobering thought for Valentine’s Day, a day reserved to celebrate significant others in our lives: Have you ever been used by someone, especially those who are close to you? It’s natural to expect care and concern from those who we think love us, but when we find out we have been used and disregarded, our spirits can sink to the dark depths due to the deeply cutting hurt we suffer (Gaylin, Feelings, 148-164). Former Columbia University psychiatry professor Willard Gaylin insightfully describes the feeling of being used when he writes, “The sense of being used . . . arises from the fear that the person dealing with us is not involved with us in emotional ties and affection—where there may be mutual use—but is simply using us as an instrument, a vehicle of his own purposes. We then are equated with the things in his life. We are signs of his needs, not of his affections.
Sometimes the Bible calls on us to be used: although I doubt Jesus meant in Ma tthew 5:40-1 that we should let thieves steal whatever they want from us because we should never resist. (Hyperbole seems to be in play here.) Nevertheless, Jesus conveys the message that sometimes doing good means letting ourselves be used by others for the glory of God. Jesus should know: while He let Judas to use Him to profit himself materially, Jesus allowed it to profit us spiritually.
Theologian Jack Deere, who lost both his father and son to suicide, wrote, “Time does not heal shame. Shame will not go away by itself. It might be hidden for a little while but sooner or later, it comes back. . . . It’s always there and it tells you this: ‘You know, if these people really knew what you were like, they wouldn’t even want you in this room.’ And because you’ve got this gaping hole you can’t share with anyone, you feel so lonely in the room and like you really need to keep this secret.”
Philosopher Avishai Margalit describes guilt as that reaction when we view ourselves from the eyes of our inner conscience, making us pale, and shame as that emotion when we view ourselves from the eyes of the other, making us blush. In any case, the two serve as a devastating duo in our psyche: they can make us feel dirty, hypocritical, secretive, alone, burdened, despairing. They are the sorrowful children of our aspirations towards the highest moral ideals coupled with the wretchedness of our fallen, sinful selves. While other tortures may come from external forces, the torture of guilt and shame can be an especially painful assault as it comes from within. I once heard a young man, who had actually overcome his sin of masturbating to pornography, confess, “I don’t know which is harder: stopping porn or dealing with the guilt that I’ve had since stopping.”
We want to be a good person, yet, we fail in so many ways. And it frustrates us to no end; evidently, that’s how Paul felt as well. We want to forgive or stop our sexual sin, yet we find ourselves not being who we want to be. For many, this routine of failure can cause painful questioning: Is God even with me? How can I live with these feelings of self-doubt, loathing, and shame? Am I even a Christian? How can I change?
And that was the experience of a pastor who finally found freedom from years of torturous struggle with strip clubs and pornography. He confessed: “I cannot tell you why I had to endure ten years of near-possession before being ready for deliverance…. But what I can tell you, especially those of you who have hung on every turn of my own pilgrimage because it so closely corresponds to yours, is that God did come through for me. The phrase may sound heretical, but to me, after so many years of failure, it felt as if he had suddenly decided to be there after a long absence. I prayed, hid nothing (hide nothing from God?), and he heard me.”