Author: Dave Dishman (Page 40 of 451)

Back in the day I sported hair down to my shoulders. Styles changed and I cut my locks, which I discovered much easier to manage. Today I’m just happy to have hair, even if it’s turned salt and pepper.

Samson grew hair like a cash crop. Never touched by a razor, he eventually revealed how his hair held the secret to his strength—and his devious lover cut it off. Samson’s headstrong habit of taking whatever woman he wanted backfired. Weakened, his enemies seized him, gouged out his eyes, and shackled him in prison.

The triumphant Philistines left Samson frail, humbled and blind. However, as Samson suffered, the hair on his head began to grow again.

I love the foreshadowing of this line. Hope looms on the horizon. Samson’s hair grew back and he revenged himself by collapsing a temple filled with Israel’s enemies. Did no one present wonder about his new luxurious head of hair?

At his death Samson humbly called upon the Lord. He looked not to his mane or to the power he felt once again coursing through his body. Instead, he turned to the Lord, the ultimate source of strength.

Like Samson, you and I can ask the Lord to empower his servants. Much like hair grows, the Lord often works unnoticed. Pray, trust and wait. But all the time keep checking—perhaps some fuzz is appearing?

Judges 16

Photo by Humphrey M

On bridges around the world, couples hang a padlock and then throw the key in the river to demonstrate their commitment to each other (I’ve seen this all over Europe). But in our day long-term commitment proves elusive. We move from job to job and even switch careers several times throughout life. Despite the locks, fewer people marry than years ago, and many marriages end sooner than expected. I decide to eat healthy, but the first plate of brownies I come across destroys that notion.

I often wait to commit. I like to keep my options open, thinking something better might come along. Or, I don’t want to lock in to a less than ideal situation. I assess the people I may be working with and decide if I want to give my time and energy to that team.

Ruth committed. A widow, she made an unorthodox decision to follow her mother-in-law Naomi back to Bethlehem. A locale Ruth had never seen, these were not her people or her lands or her customs. But she committed to Naomi and promised: Where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried.

Ruth’s pledge reflects God’s commitment to you and me. If we will have him, God will go where we go and lodge where we lodge. We become his people and he becomes our God.

Ruth’s story ended happily. In a lovely twist, generations later Jesus was born into her line. Good things come when we hang a padlock with the Lord and throw away the key. Like Ruth and Naomi, God blesses our lives if we choose to commit to him.

Ruth 1:16

Photo by Alberto Barrera

The early church in Jerusalem flourished. People sold possessions and shared with those in need. The apostles spoke daily, their teachings accompanied by wonders and signs from God. New followers of Jesus hung out, attended services together, and took turns hosting meals in each others homes. They received their food with glad and generous hearts.

Turns out this was a special time for the newly forming faith. Persecutions later scattered these believers across the Roman world. But in the beginning, converts flocked to this happy and openhanded community.

How to build such a group today? How to develop a church that engenders curiosity among those outside the walls? One place to start is to ask the Lord for glad and generous hearts.

Happiness and magnanimity mark those who follow the Lord. Life brings turmoil, and our hearts bear the burnt. But the Holy Spirit generates an power that melts hard feelings into delightful and unselfish sensibilities.

I know I can use a dose of compassion and cheerfulness. Let’s pray for a glad and generous heart. Perhaps others will notice and grow intrigued by the One who creates such hearts in the first place.

Acts 2:42-47

Photo by Luisa Brimble

It’s tempting to curve my religion towards my own ends. I want God’s blessings, even if I don’t necessarily want to follow the ways of God. I hope to enjoy divine goodness on my terms.

A lady in ancient Israel had the same idea. She worked a plan to benefit her and her less-than-honest son:

There was a man of the hill country of Ephraim, whose name was Micah. And he said to his mother, “The 1,100 pieces of silver that were taken from you, about which you uttered a curse, and also spoke it in my ears, behold, the silver is with me; I took it.” And his mother said, “Blessed be my son by the Lord.” And he restored the 1,100 pieces of silver to his mother. And his mother said, “I dedicate the silver to the Lord from my hand for my son, to make a carved image and a metal image.

Notice the problem? This woman dedicated her newly found silver (stolen by her sweet boy) to the Lord, but in the same breath commissioned a carved image. This in direct opposition to the commandment which states: You shall not make for yourself a carved image.

She borrowed this idea from the surrounding religions, hoping for a boost to set her ahead. But the law of Moses failed to register. Or, perhaps it seemed restrictive, outdated even. Regardless, she fashioned her own synchronistic religion. This woman spoke of the Lord, but failed to follow him.

I can live the same way. I mention God in my prayers while ignoring the ways of life found in his book. A bulging bank account or 401K replaces a carved image. It’s hard to depend solely on God, seemingly impossible in some ways. We all seek the crutches of this world—money, security, notoriety, success, and on and on.

Don’t miss the point. The Lord is clear—follow him first and ditch the shiny images. Make his ways your ways, and a flourishing live follows—even if the flourishing turns out different or harder than you expect.

Judges 17:1-6

Photo by Micaela Parente