Author: Dave Dishman (Page 294 of 475)

What comes to mind when you hear the term pleasant places? I think of a comfortable swing on a shady porch in the summer, iced tea in hand.

The psalmist wrote glowingly of the Lord’s goodness. Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.

The passage reads from a settled place. The author (maybe David?) writes of prosperity and peace. False gods pushed aside, the psalmist keeps his eyes always on the Lord.

The psalm reminds me of the Lord’s goodness on two levels. One, the Lord grants me kindness in the things he gives me and places he puts me. I enjoy a pleasant home and a life of peace. I write from a place of security, not a given in this world.

Then further in exists an infinitely better gift—the Lord himself—the Giver behind all gifts. To fall within his boundary lines makes for the ultimate inheritance. The Lord becomes our delight, magnifying for eternity the pleasant places within his boundaries.

I love the promise revealed in the psalmist’s closing words: You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.

Lord, may this be true of us.

Psalm 16 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo by Annie Spratt

Recently a multi-billionaire generously donated $476 million dollars to Habitat for Humanity, a wonderful gift to an organization doing great work. This donor’s name splashed across our newsfeeds, reminding us of the power of philanthropy and encouraging us to give to good causes.

Back in the day, Jesus also praised a certain giver. In his case, he pointed out a widow who shuffled up behind some major donors to give two copper coins. An insignificant amount, not enough for a doorknob in a new home today. But the gift impressed Jesus:

Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.

For me, this remains one of the most challenging teachings of Jesus. The enormous gift referenced above represents about 1% of that particular billionaire’s wealth. There’s still plenty in the bank to live on. The same holds for me—while I try to give generously, in no way do I match this widow. I don’t want to give away everything.

Which I don’t think Jesus is telling me to do. However, like the widow, I do think Jesus asks me to go all in. I’ve read in various places how lower-income people tend to give a greater percentage of their paycheck away than the rich. The poor know others need help, the wealthy (the category where I place myself) tend to forget.

Jesus reminds me not to forget. In the Lord’s economy, the heart’s intent determines the true value of a gift, whether a couple of coins or hundreds of millions of dollars. Give generously, give sacrificially, and understand the Lord counts the value of our gifts differently than you and I.

Luke 21 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo by Allef Vinicius

One of the peculiar phrases I sometimes hear around church involves laying out a fleece. It refers to Gideon’s request for a sign from the Lord before leading his untested army into battle against a powerful enemy.

Gideon laid out his fleece twice. Once, asking for a wet fleece surrounded by dry ground, and then the opposite. Both times the Lord complied. This exercise followed a visit from an angel, and so Gideon received a total of three miraculous signs before stepping into the fray.

Makes me think of Jim Carrey in Bruce Almighty, arguing with God, asking over and over for a sign while signs appear all around him.

Gideon faced an immense challenge and hoped for clarity to lead. Those who followed Moses watched God work signs and wonders before their eyes, and yet over and over refused to believe the Lord. Clearly, the presence of a sign doesn’t automatically generate obedience.

Most everyone who cracks open a Bible hopes to discern God’s will at some point in their life (here’s a thoughtful series in the topic), but confirmation remains elusive. It’s hard to know we’re going the right direction without a bright, unambiguous sign.

In my experience, such signs rarely appear. Often the test with our fleece fails to satisfy. Remember, it took three miraculous experiences to convince Gideon. We step forward in faith, with glimmers of direction.

One hopeful thought. Just like the Lord sent an angel to Gideon, the Lord sent his Word to us. The first and best place to look for direction from the God? Open that Bible at your elbow and dig in. You might just find that sign you’re looking for.

Judges 6 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo by Austin Chan

When was the last time you felt the stick of a goad? Or to put in another way, who last goaded you into something?

I visited my gastroenterologist recently. I steeled myself for bad news—when am I due for my next colonoscopy? She referenced her charts and then withdrew the goad. Four more years (with foot-dragging I’ll stretch that to six). Good health often requires some goading.

Shamgar, the third judge of Israel, struck down six hundred Philistines with an oxgoad, thus delivering the nation. An oxgoad is a long stick, either sharpened on one end, or fit with an iron spike and/or hook. It’s used to prod oxen in the direction the driver prefers. Today people use an electric cattle prod for the same purposes.

No one likes feeling the goad, particularly those Philistines. Paul referred to kicking against the goads when describing his conversion experience on the road to Damascus. It’s painful and harmful to kick against a sharpened, barbed spear.

Which doesn’t stop me from bucking the goad. Like a big dumb ox, I often need a little pain to move me in the right direction. I may not like it, but part of me understands, and remains grateful, for the Lord’s goads in my life.

Judges 3 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022