Devotions

In Genesis 2, God is talking to Adam, “You need somebody suitable to help you. I'm going to make somebody for you. It's going to be just right for you.” God brings all the animals and says, “Let's see what we can find.” So Adam’s naming all the animals. You have to wonder, though, why does God do this?

I believe Adam was being given a firm realization of his own longings. Many Christians are confused about this. We oftentimes think that any longing or passion that we have — because it seems to spring from our heart — is automatically evil. However, not every longing you have is inherently wrong.

In Genesis, we’re told no fit helper was found for Adam, so God takes a rib out of him and makes a woman. Adam sees her and says, “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man” (Genesis 2:23, ESV). When scripture says ‘this at last,’ the Hebrew can be translated in several different ways; one would be along the lines of ‘finally’ or ‘it's about time.’ There's been this burning desire in Adam’s soul, and God has finally called him to satisfy this longing in his heart.

A legitimate longing is one that God brings to you. Longing for worship, community, building a life with a spouse, ministry. The moment that we begin to believe there is satisfaction beyond God, however, we run into trouble. Let's take money, for instance. Everybody needs money to pay your bills and have a place to live. Longing for money in order to successfully care for a family or live responsibly is not wrong. If we want money to buy ourselves security or other selfish reasons, it takes on an illegitimate form. Similarly, longing for a relationship is not wrong, unless you are forcing it through your own power. Longings can be corrupted, but they are often born out of something God spoken into our hearts.

You and I were intended to love people. This is not just a story of marriage. It goes broader than that. God created us to be with one another, to love one another, to have fellowship, to share our lives together with one another. Our selfish longings will build us up or separate us from others. Our God-given longings will always build on love for one another.

I love the story of this one woman who was on a plane en route from Los Angeles to Boston. They hit some really bad weather for almost the entire trip. Everybody on board was panicking because the plane was getting tossed around. Some people were starting to legitimately worry about whether they were actually going to reach Boston. Everyone was panicking except one senior citizen who knitted a sweater the entire transcontinental flight.

Finally, when the plane hit some clear air, someone went over to this old woman who had been knitting the whole time and said, "Why aren't you bothered? Why don't you seem to be fearful while all of us are worried about this plane and hoping we're going to make it to safety?"

She looked at him and said, "Young man, I am on my way to visit my son in Boston, but I used to have another son who was a Christian and died not too long ago. So before this day is done, one thing I know: I will see one of them, and it doesn't much matter which one of them I visit."

I've heard for many years that the Bible says, "Fear not" at least 365 times. That means it tells each one of us, “You don't have to fret about life” one time for every day of the year. I mean how awesome is that? In my many years of preaching, I have said this, but I hadn’t checked it out. Finally, I decided to investigate it for myself. Well, here's the real story. The Bible doesn't say “Fear not” 365 times. In fact, it's not even close. Based on the version that you may have, “Fear not” may be in the Bible less than a hundred times.

Here's the thing, though. It doesn't really matter.

If God said "Fear not" even just one time, then I don't need it 365 times. With God, once said is enough said. Our God is gracious, though, and he says it a few more times for us, and that should be an encouragement to every single one of us. We can trust him when he says, “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10, ESV).

^{After pastoring an inner-city congregation in Detroit for thirty years, Pastor Tim served at Brooklyn Tabernacle in NYC for five years and pastored in Lafayette, Louisiana, for five years. He became Senior Pastor of Times Square Church in May of 2020.}

There is no getting around it. If I am to become the man and minister God has called me to be, my wife must be able to say honestly before heaven, hell and all the world, “My husband loves me with the love of Christ. He makes mistakes, but he’s growing more patient and understanding with me. He’s becoming more tender and caring. He prays with me. He isn’t a phony. He is what he preaches.”

If this isn’t my wife’s testimony — if she has a secret pain in her heart thinking, “My husband isn’t the man of God he pretends to be” — then everything in my life is in vain. All my preaching, accomplishments and charitable giving amount to nothing. I am a withering, useless branch that doesn’t bear the fruit of the Spirit. Jesus will cause others to see the death in me, and I’ll be worth little to his kingdom.

A while ago, a middle-aged pastor and his wife came to me brokenhearted and weeping. The minister told me through tears, “Brother Dave, I have sinned against God and my wife. I’ve committed adultery.” He shook with godly sorrow as he confessed his sin to me. Then his wife turned to me and said softly, “I’ve forgiven him. His repentance is real to me, and I’m confident the Lord will restore us.” With that, I was privileged to witness the beginning of a beautiful healing.

We can never make up for our past failures; but when there is true repentance, God promises to restore all that the cankerworm has destroyed.

I wish every couple who enjoys a Christ-centered marriage would rise up and tell the truth:  “It isn’t easy.” There is no other school as difficult and intense as the school of marriage, and you never graduate. God makes it clear to us that our life with our loved ones is the pinnacle, the very summit, of all our testings. If we get it wrong here, we’ll have it wrong everywhere else in our life.

Marriage is a day-by-day effort, in the same way the Christian life is. Like the way of the Cross, it means giving up your rights daily and turning to Christ’s promise, “I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without me you can do nothing” (John 15:5, NKJV).

To be Christ-like is to acknowledge Jesus in others. In my travels, I meet many precious men and women whom I know are given wholly to the Lord. The moment I meet them, my heart leaps. Even though we’ve never met before, I have a witness from the Holy Spirit that they are full of Christ. In greeting them, I always say the one thing I would want others to say of me: “Brother, sister, I see Jesus in you.”

Christ-likeness has to do with how I treat those outside my family, loving others as he loves us. It also means loving our enemies, those who hate us, who spitefully use us, who aren’t capable of loving us. We’re to do this expecting nothing in return.

Loving this way is impossible in human terms. There aren’t any how-to books, any sets of principles or any amount of human intelligence to show us how to love our enemies as Christ loved us. Nevertheless, we are commanded to do it, and we are to do it with an ever-increasing purpose. So, how do we accomplish this? How do I love the Muslim man who spit in my face a block from our church? How do I love the people who run websites calling me a false prophet? How do I love homosexuals who parade down Fifth Avenue carrying signs declaring, “Jesus Was Gay”?

I don’t even know how to love other Christians in my own ability. How do I truly love those who actively come against me?

It has to be the work of the Holy Spirit. Jesus prayed to the Father, “I have declared to them your name, and will declare it, that the love with which you loved me may be in them, and I in them” (John 17:26, NKJV). Christ asks the Father to put his love in us. He promises that the Holy Spirit will show us how to live out that love.

The Holy Ghost will faithfully gather up all the ways Christ loved others and show it to you (see John 16:15). Indeed, the Spirit delights in showing us more of Jesus. It’s the reason he dwells in our bodily temples, to teach Christ to us. “The Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things that I said to you” (John 14:25-26).

“The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and he delights in his way” (Psalm 37:23, NKJV). The Hebrew word for ‘ordered’ in this verse means fixed or pre-planned. God doesn’t work with a day planner. He doesn’t plan out our path a day, week or year ahead. No, he has an entire life-plan laid out for every believer. The moment we’re saved, that plan goes into operation.

What is this pre-planned path? Jesus answers very simply, “I am the way” (John 14:6). Christ himself is the path to glory and eternal life. He leads us toward our final destination, and our path ends in his arms, in heaven. The book of Hebrews tells us Jesus is “bringing many sons to glory” (Hebrews 2:10).

Yet, what we can’t know is the specific route that Jesus is going to take to get us there. None of us can be sure what the rest of our journey will look like. That path is a way known only to God. Take my own life, for example. I’ve been en route to glory for more than seventy years. Along the way, God has given me some goals, some dreams and some visions, which I’ve pursued; but the Lord has never outlined the entire path to me. In fact, even after all these years, I’m not sure where the path will lead me tomorrow.

When Jacob was old, he described his own path to Pharaoh. “The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years: few and evil have the days of my life been” (Genesis 47:9). The Hebrew word for “evil” here signifies afflictions, sorrows and adversities.

I can identify with Jacob. There are certain periods of my own pilgrimage that I would not want to relive. Of course, I praise God for all the blessings and miracles he has worked for me. I’m grateful for the faith he has built in me over the years. If I had to relive my life, though, I would want to know ahead of time that everything turns out well. However, that’s just not the way God works. The path of every believer is one of faith.