Author: Dave Dishman (Page 109 of 474)

I get a lot of encouragement to care for myself, which is good advice in the right circumstances. But the focus goes too far when my love of self tramples over fear of God and concern for others.

The psalmist wrote of those who loved wealth and named estates after themselves—Their fame will not last. They will die, just like animals. Many hope to establish a legacy. But after a few generations, no one remembers.

The author also points out that the grave is their eternal home, where they will stay forever. But another way to translate this line is their inward thought is their eternal home.

Intense self-focus constructs a prison for those who love themselves and disregard others. It may be that such lost souls teeter through eternity, locked inside their self-fabricated world, never noticing or experiencing the presence of God. How ironic to miss the greatest love of all while pursuing the shrunken love of self.

This is the fate of fools. If I treat myself and fail to notice the Lord as he extends his goodness all around me, then I might just find myself—with only myself—for a long, long time.

Psalm 49 in Through the Bible in 2024

Photo by Jen Theodore

Years ago on a summer mission in North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, I walked past my pre-school daughter and her little girlfriends playing on the porch. The two-story bungalow where we stayed fit into the student housing category—meaning it needed work.

The girls were digging at one of the supports holding up a deck on the second floor. With just a stick, they carved out crumbling chunks of wood. One 4×4 already sported a hole I could stick my fingers through. Quite industrious, this trio turned to the next post. After slowing down their efforts with a snack I searched out our landlord.

She first accused these bite-sized hoodlums of destroying her property, but when we inspected the supports she grasped the issue. All the six posts were rotten to the core.

Rot destroys slowly, imperceptibly, and thoroughly. The people of Israel blatantly abandoned God, and the Lord described his wrath in terms of leisurely deterioration: I will destroy Israel as a moth consumes wool. I will make Judah as weak as rotten wood.

The judgement of the Lord seldom arrives as a raging flood or massive explosion. Mostly we ignore God while moths eat away at our soul. Eventually we notice the damage, but the decay takes years to repair.

A valuable garment worn away by moths goes in the trash pile. Posts designed to bear massive loads are torn apart by children. The Lord never stops trying to garner our attention, whether it be through grace or through rot.

Hosea 5 in Through the Bible in 2024

Photo by Koa’link

The occasion behind Psalm 55 is unclear, but there David wrote of his betrayal at the hands of a friend:

As for my companion, he betrayed his friends; he broke his promises. His words are as smooth as butter, but in his heart is war. His words are as soothing as lotion, but underneath are daggers!

As David describes the treachery of a close confidant, he paints the picture of his duplicity with Uriah. In that incident, uncovered in 2 Samuel 11, David sent Uriah to certain death in order to cover up David’s taking of Bathsheba.

Uriah was fully devoted to David his king. He served without compromise or complaint. Yet David betrayed his friend—and penned these words about a betrayer.

This stunning passage warns me of the twisted paths within my own heart. One minute I’m standing tall and honorable, the next bent to my desires. I complain about those who do me wrong, then swivel to the identical behavior myself.

As the scriptures teach, there is no one who does good, not even one. Which makes me grateful for unearned grace from the Living God.

Psalm 55 in Through the Bible in 2024

Photo by Sandip Kalal

I don’t easily take to new ideas. I ponder, weigh my options, and slide away without committing. I rarely sign petitions and I refuse to join social media campaigns. I don’t want to tie myself to a cause I might regret later.

So when Jesus encourages me to turn my life to him, I pause. His invitation sounds challenging, yet appealing:

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Our world is all about throwing off yokes and experiencing freedom in every sphere of life. But lack of boundaries leads to anarchy, both in society and in our hearts. The yokes we throw off end up tangling our feet, causing us to stumble.

More often we choose the heaviest of yokes. I pursue self-love only to find that I’m the only one who loves me. I stack up burdens of social recognition, wealth and experiences. We all choose our yokes, and these yokes calcify into hulking burdens.

Consider again this word from Jesus. His yoke is easy, his burden light, and his offer still stands.

Matthew 11 in Through the Bible in 2024

Photo by Marcus Dall Col