Author: Dave Dishman (Page 333 of 459)

Elisha seemed touchy about his hair loss when he confronted a group of boys jeering at him—Get out of here baldy! Get out of here baldy!

When Elisha called down a curse, two bears rollicked out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the boys. Which is a lot of mauling, and as far as I know, the only bear-curse in history.

What to make of this odd story?

Mocking a prophet of God amounted to mocking God himself. Elisha understood this as he faced the crowd of boys. Also, having just watched his mentor ride to heaven on a chariot of fire, Elisha established his new role as the legitimate successor to Elijah by defending himself.

Finally, perhaps he felt endangered by a crowd of forty-plus adolescents taunting him along a country road? Feels intimidating. I just re-read William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, so idea of a group of young males going rogue doesn’t seem too far-fetched.

Plus, the bald-headed comments stung. Mock a prophet for any number of things, but leave his hair (or lack of it) alone.

2 Kings 2 in week twenty-nine of reading the Bible cover to cover

Photo by Niklas Fredengren

While reading on the kings of Judah and Israel, I moved into stories about the reign of Jehoshaphat, king of Judah. I thought, Finally, I’ll get a clue about how the phrase “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!” entered our lexicon.

But Jehoshaphat never jumped at all. At least the writers of scripture never record any jump or leap or even a hop. Rather, he’s better known for keeping his feet solidly on the ground.

An invading army caught Jehoshaphat by surprise. Alarmed, Jehoshaphat proclaimed a fast throughout the country and called the people together to seek help from the Lord. Everyone joined Jehoshaphat in seeking the Lord’s protection—All the men of Judah, with their wives and children and little ones, stood there before the Lord.

The Lord spoke through a prophet and encouraged Jehoshaphat and the people that the battle is not yours, but God’s. The next day, with men shouting, give thanks to the Lord, for his love endures forever!, the king led his tiny army to meet their foe.

The Lord fought in their stead, setting the invaders against each other, and destroying themselves in process. The Lord proved faithful as Jehoshaphat led his people with courage and trust.

So, maybe we should popularize the phrase “Standing Firm Jehoshaphat!!” But I’m doubtful it will catch on—just doesn’t roll off the tongue.

2 Chronicles 20 in week twenty-nine of reading the Bible cover to cover

Here’s an article on where the phrase Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat likely originated.

What if the most important messages arrive with a whisper?

Certainly true for Elijah. After a major confrontation with a cohort of Baal’s prophets, Elijah fled into the wilderness. There he waited for a word from God.

First a tornado tore through the neighborhood. Then an earthquake rattled Elijah’s teeth. Next a massive fire. How long did this prelude take?

Finally, a whisper. Some commentators say the word actually means a profound silence.

God speaks in whatever way God chooses. Just a few days before, Elijah watched the Lord shoot a pillar of fire from heaven and gloriously confirm his presence. But this day, Elijah required a whisper.

If the Lord indeed whispers, I wonder if my mind ever settles down enough to hear? Where exist the silent places in my day? I fill time with the clatter of channel surfing and sports watching and politics hawking, along with silent finger swipes toward random photos and rabbit-hole reading.

How many minutes spent in reflection? How much time with a quiet mind?

Not enough.

If God whispers, then stretches of quiet and stillness and patience are required to even begin to think about hearing.

I think I’ll leave my phone upstairs for the rest of the day.

I Kings 19 in week twenty-nine of reading the Bible cover to cover

Photo by Andraz Lazic

The cabins at the retreat center sat way up in the woods. When I arrived, I carried my bag along the winding trail, criss-crossed by thick tree roots, and thought, “wow, this is a cool place!” I dropped my stuff and headed to dinner.

Later that night, after our evening meeting and dessert, I walked back to our cabin with a couple of students. No lights marked the path, no moon rose, and no stars shone through the clouds. The way up to the cabin felt like a tunnel. The pleasant stroll of early afternoon turned into a comedy of stubbed toes, near falls, and branches to the face.

The students with me laughed, then cursed, then apologized (I was a campus minister, after all—although my lack of profanity barely masked my frustration). We tossed around the idea of going back and sleeping in the meeting room. Years before mobile phones, no handy lights sat at our fingertips.

Finally, a well-prepared student appeared with a flashlight. After laughing at us (it was a college student retreat, you know), he led us up the path, now easily navigated with a small beam of light.

I think of this incident every time I read Psalm 119:105, Your word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path.

Our world throws shades at you and me every day. I stumble and curse as I navigate dark pathways. But then I remember the lamp provided by the Lord. His light—His Word—illuminates, clarifies, and comforts.

It’s an easy truth for me to forget, so it’s wonderful to re-discover that His light glows, waiting for me to open my soul in the darkness.

Psalm 119 in week twenty-nine of reading the Bible cover to cover

Photo by Steve Halama