Author: Dave Dishman (Page 261 of 475)

I enjoy going to friend’s homes when I don’t have to change shirts before I go over.

When it comes to prayer, however, I often feel like I need to put on a clean shirt before going before the Lord. Much of that feeling is proper—our Holy God, Lord of heaven and earth, deserves my respect and attention. But the scriptures also encourage our raw emotion or frustration or anger when we pray. We can blurt out our thoughts to the Lord.

David led this way in his psalms. His prayers are earthy, real and certainly not high falutin’ or pompous.

He starts safe enough: Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens.

But a skip ahead David records the Lord’s response: your feet may wade in the blood of your foes, while the tongues of your dogs have their share.

That’s a lot of blood. I don’t remember ever praying to wade in the blood of my enemies, but it’s right there in the psalms. The same man who wrote the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, hoped to watch his dogs lapping up the blood of his adversaries.

Throws my idea of prayer on its head. But it opens my eyes to the reality that I can be real with the Lord. I can pray frustrations and pain and anger along with gratitude and thankfulness and praise.

I can come as I am when I go to the Lord.

Psalm 68 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo by Jon Tyson

This month, the flowers in my beds fade in anticipation of the fall. A few plant varieties create late blooms, like chrysanthemums and monk’s hood (also called wolf’s bane, whose purplish flower resembles a monk’s cowl). Still, I watch the season closing around me.

Flowers drop, vines die back, freezes descend. Nothing lasts forever.

Or I should say, only a few things live on and on and on.

The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.

It’s worth dwelling on this line from the prophet Isaiah. The word of our God endures forever. The time we spend reading or listening to the scriptures intertwines us with eternity. We touch truths with no end, that carry through, that never die.

I scroll through lots of ideas and entertainment that are fascinating today and forgotten tomorrow. I try not to think about so much time wasted. But the few minutes of my day interacting with the scriptures point me to to the everlasting ways of the Lord.

May the flowers falling this season remind us of truth that endures forever, and rests patiently at our fingertips.

Isaiah 40 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo of Monk’s Hood—Wikipedia

My television burned smokin’ hot this weekend with the start of the college football season. From Thursday evening (Go Mizzou!) through Monday, football beamed its special brand of glory into my living room. Like a pig to slop, I wallowed in touchdowns and fumbles. Next weekend the NFL season begins—gotta let the TV cool down before that binge.

I draw some justification in my enjoyment of football thanks to Paul’s references to athletes and competitions. To the Corinthians he wrote, do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to win.

Paul highlighted the self-discipline all successful athletes exhibit—everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training.

During one of the pre-game warmups this weekend, a coach walked among his players, patting them on their helmets and repeating this mantra: trust your training. The team drilled and sweated and studied for weeks—trained—to not only prepare, but to win.

The life of faith involves training and preparation and self-discipline. Time in the scriptures, praying and seeking the Lord, listening to the Holy Spirit and learning from others all build our faith for challenges ahead.

Finally, Paul worried about being disqualified. To avoid that fate he encourages us to train and prepare. So that in the midst of the games—the fierce engagements of life—we’ll find ourselves competing for the prize.

1 Corinthians 9 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo by Gene Gallin