Category: Uncategorized

MAY 12

Psalm 94

Psalm 94:19, “When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.”

The main theme of Psalm 94 is the justice of God in the face of oppression and evil, and the comfort He gives to His people in times of trouble. The psalmist rebukes those who believe that God does not see or understand what is happening. But the omniscient God hears and sees everything, and in due time, He will come to the aid of the oppressed. In the meantime, He disciplines His children as a loving Father and consoles them amid their suffering.

No one can console us like God. He knows us completely, cares more deeply than anyone else, and can intervene in our lives in powerful and often unexpected ways. This was the experience of Hudson Taylor, founder of the China Inland Mission, in the aftermath of the Boxer Rebellion. Faced with the deaths of 50 missionaries and numerous Chinese Christians, Taylor turned to God for strength and wisdom.

In response to the tragedy, supporters from around the world offered prayers, compassion, and financial help. Instead of collapsing, the mission effort strengthened, receiving an influx of new workers and resources—something Taylor recognized as God’s way of bringing comfort and reaffirming His purpose. Following the Rebellion, Taylor’s health declined significantly, prompting him to take time in Europe for rest. There, he found deep comfort through Scripture and the care of his wife and fellow believers. God used this season to restore him both spiritually and physically.

Though the Boxer Rebellion brought profound loss, the long-term result was that China showed increased openness to the gospel and missionaries showed renewed zeal. Hudson Taylor lived to witness how God turned tragedy into blessing—faithfully upholding His people and furthering the gospel.

When we feel overwhelmed or uncertain, we can trust that God sees, understands, and will bring comfort and purpose out of pain—just as He did for Hudson Taylor.

“It does not matter how great the pressure is. What really matters is where the pressure lies—whether it comes between you and God, or whether it presses you nearer His heart.”—Hudson Taylor

Application Questions: When you face seasons of pressure, grief, or uncertainty, do you allow that pressure to push you closer to God’s heart—or does it come between you and Him? What might it look like for you to lean into God’s consolation, even when you don’t understand His timing or ways?

MAY 9

Psalm 93

Psalm 93:2, “Your throne is established from of old; you are from everlasting.”

72 years. That’s how long my beloved wife, Laura, has walked this earth. 8 years. That’s how long she’s been courageously battling cancer—enduring chronic pain and wave after wave of treatment, all sustained by God’s grace. 3 to 6 months. That’s the timeframe the oncologist gave if she chooses to discontinue chemo.  And still, the clocks tick on. “Tick-tock, tick-tock,” time marches forward, each second drawing us closer to a final goodbye. Laura’s days are numbered. As are the days of us all (Psalm 139:16).

But God is not bound by time. Psalm 93:2 declares, “Your throne is established from of old; you are from everlasting.” This truth not only speaks to God’s eternity but also His unshakable authority. His throne has always been and always will be. While we are subject to the pressures and passing of time, God remains sovereign—enthroned above all, steady and unchanging through every rise and fall of history and human life. It’s hard for time-bound creatures like us to grasp a timeless God. We live moment by moment—remembering the past, struggling through the present, uncertain about the future. Yet God sees all of time at once. He is never caught off guard. As Isaiah 46:10 reminds us, He declares “the end from the beginning,” and His purposes will stand.

This eternal sovereignty is not just a theological concept—it is a profound comfort. Life is filled with beginnings and endings. Goodbyes are a regular part of our journey. Even the greatest kingdoms of the world rise and fall. But God reigns forever. He doesn’t change, and His promises never expire.  “Our Savior Christ Jesus…has abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel” (1 Timothy 1:10).  Eternal life isn’t just a future destination—it is knowing God now (John 17:3) and walking with Him in a relationship that time cannot touch.

We do face pain. We do face loss. But these are, as Paul puts it, “light and momentary troubles” compared to the eternal glory that awaits us (2 Corinthians 4:17). Because of this, we need not lose heart (v. 16). The everlasting God, who knows our days and holds our future, invites us into His eternity—and in that there is a hope no clock can destroy.

“The eternal God is our refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.”—Deuteronomy 33:27

Application questions: How does the truth of God’s eternal sovereignty, as described in Psalm 93:2, shape the way you view your own life and the events around you? How can this perspective help you trust God in uncertain times?

MAY 8

Psalm 92

Psalm 92:14, “They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green.”

The principal theme of Psalm 92 is the praise of God for His character and works. The psalmist expresses gratitude for God’s steadfast love in the morning and His faithfulness in the evening, acknowledging that God’s works and wisdom are worthy of praise. Though the wicked may seem to prosper temporarily, the psalmist affirmed that they will ultimately perish, while the righteous will endure, flourishing like tall, sturdy trees—”ever full of sap and green.” This imagery reflects a life rooted in God’s presence and sustained by His faithfulness. Similarly, Jesus’ parable of the vine and the branches underscores that an abiding relationship with God is the key to fruitfulness.

One person who exemplified this enduring faith and fruitfulness was George Whitefield (1714–1770), a dynamic preacher and central figure in the 18th-century evangelical revival. Known for his powerful messages, Whitefield sparked the Evangelical Revival in England and was instrumental in the First Great Awakening in America. Throughout his lifetime, he preached over 18,000 sermons, reaching massive crowds on both continents.

Even in his old age, Whitefield continued to preach. He delivered his last sermon just one day before his death. Despite his failing health, Whitefield prayed before that last sermon: “Lord Jesus, I am weary in Thy work, but not of Thy work. If I have not yet finished my course, let me go and speak for Thee once more in the fields, seal Thy truth, and come home to die.”  When friends urged him not to preach because of his weakened condition, Whitefield responded with his trademark conviction: “I would rather wear out than rust out.”

Standing on a barrel in an open field, he delivered a passionate message on the need to be born again. Though his voice was initially strained, witnesses said it grew stronger as he spoke, and his fervor for Christ remained undiminished. That evening, he traveled to Newburyport, Massachusetts, where he died the following morning at 55.

Like the righteous in Psalm 92 who flourish even in old age, George Whitefield exemplified a life of unwavering devotion to God, bearing fruit until the very end, and offering a powerful testimony to the enduring strength that comes from a deep, abiding relationship with Him.

“I’d rather wear out than rust out.” — George Whitefield

Application Questions: How can you cultivate an “abiding relationship with Christ” in your own life, especially as you grow older, so that the Spirit might continually bear fruit in you?  In what ways can you embrace the attitude of “wearing out” in God’s service rather than “rusting out,” even when facing challenges or exhaustion?

MAY 7

Psalm 91

Psalm 91:4, ”Under his wings you will find refuge.”

The central theme of Psalm 91 is divine protection. The psalmist trusts in God’s power to safeguard those who dwell in His presence. God is portrayed as a shield against a wide range of threats, including danger, disease, and disaster. The psalm culminates with God’s own promises of deliverance, protection, and honor for those who trust in Him. Within this context, the psalmist uses the tender image of God’s protection being like shelter under His wings, offering comfort and safety.

The well-known hymn “Under His Wings” draws deeply from the imagery and message of this psalm. Written in the late 1800s by William Orcutt Cushing, the hymn emerged from his own painful life experiences. Cushing, a pastor and hymn writer, dedicated much of his life to ministry and music. However, his journey took a tragic turn when he lost his voice due to paralysis of the vocal cords, forcing him to retire from preaching. Around the same time, he also suffered the heartbreaking loss of his wife. These trials led him into a long season of grief and spiritual introspection.

Out of this personal sorrow, the hymn was born. Just as the psalm reflects a deep sense of security and healing in God’s care, Cushing’s hymn echoes that same comfort—drawing on the image of a mother bird sheltering her young. It conveys the truth that there is a sacred place of refuge near to God, where His gentle presence offers freedom, safety, and peace from all fear.

“ Under His wings, under His wings,
Who from His love can sever?
Under His wings my soul shall abide,
Safely abide forever.”
—William Cushing

Application Questions: In what areas of your life are you currently seeking protection, and how can trusting in God’s presence help?  Like William Cushing, have you experienced a time of grieving that led you to a deeper level of trust in Him? How might you use that experience to encourage others?

MAY 6

Psalm 90

Psalm 90:12, “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”

Laura’s most recent visit to the oncologist brought sobering news: her cancer had spread to her liver. After sharing this update, the doctor gently asked if she wanted to continue treatment. I asked what would happen if she chose not to. His answer was direct—three to six months. And so, we find ourselves at a crossroads. Her cancer has always been terminal, yet God has already extended her life beyond what anyone expected. Still, the doctor’s words served as a stark reminder of how fragile and fleeting life truly is—a truth Psalm 90 communicates with deep clarity.

Psalm 90, attributed to Moses, is the oldest psalm in Scripture. It reflects on Israel’s wilderness journey after the exodus from Egypt—a season marked by God’s judgment and the harsh reality of human mortality. An entire generation died before entering the Promised Land. In this context, Moses meditates on the brevity of life and the weight of God’s eternal presence—truths that resonate deeply with what I’ve seen as a hospice chaplain.

Over the years, I’ve learned this: life is short, and death is certain—for all of us, unless Christ returns first. Psalm 90 doesn’t avoid this truth; instead, it invites us to embrace it with humility and hope. In verse 12, Moses prays, “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” It’s a call to live from an eternal perspective.

True wisdom is applying knowledge to make sound decisions based on truth. A heart of wisdom recognizes that our time on earth is temporary, while eternity with God is forever. That understanding shapes how we live now. It calls us to make wise, holy choices in this life, with our eyes fixed not just on the here and now, but on the then and there—the reward of being with God forever.

“Only one life, ‘twill soon be past; only what’s done for Christ will last.” — Missionary C. T. Studd

Application Questions: How does recognizing the brevity of life influence the way you prioritize your time and your decisions today?  What would it look like for you to live with a “heart of wisdom” in this season of your life, knowing that eternity is your ultimate home?

MAY 5

Psalm 89

Psalm 89:9, “You rule the raging of the sea; when its waves rise, you still them.”

Psalm 89 reflects the glory of God through His faithfulness, steadfast love, and unmatched power. The psalmist celebrates how God used this power to defeat Israel’s enemies and establish the Davidic kingdom (Psalm 89:20, 28–29). He also affirms God’s sovereign rule over creation, declaring that God commands the surging seas and calms their raging waves—a vivid symbol of His authority over chaos. Yet, despite acknowledging this power, the psalmist is troubled. David’s kingdom is in decline, and God seems distant, even angry. Has God abandoned His covenant with David (Psalm 89:39)? The psalmist wrestles deeply with this tension. Though God rules the waves, He appears removed from the suffering of His covenant people.

This same tension was experienced by the disciples when they were crossing the Sea of Galilee.  Caught in a violent storm, as waves crashed over the boat and it began to fill with water, the disciples feared for their lives—while Jesus slept peacefully in the stern. In panic, they woke Him, crying, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” Jesus rose, rebuked the wind, and calmed the sea with a word. Stunned, the disciples asked one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (Mark 4:41).

You’ve likely faced your own storms—seasons when life has not gone as planned or when difficulties have felt overwhelming. Psalm 89 and the story in Mark remind us of a powerful truth: God is greater than any storm we face. The One who rules the seas also has the power to calm our troubled hearts and grant us peace that “surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:6–7). Our calling is to trust Him—especially when the storms of life threaten to overwhelm us.

You needn’t fear the storms of life if you’ve got Jesus “in your boat!”

Application Questions: Have you felt like God was distant during a difficult time?  How can this psalm or the story of Jesus calming the storm reshape your perspective on His presence and power? What practical steps can you take to trust God more fully when you’re facing life’s storms, knowing He has the power to bring peace amid chaos?

MAY 2

Psalm 88

Psalm 88:13, “But I, O Lord, cry to you; in the morning my prayer comes before you.”

She was in hospice, and not many weeks from the end. I came to visit, and there she sat in her recliner—not comfortably. For her arm and leg were swollen, painfully so, and it was hard to see her like that. We both knew her time was short. We talked quietly—about how she was doing, about suffering, and about how God sometimes seems so close and sometimes so far.

Within reach of her chair was a hand-sized, round plaque. Philippians 4:13 was inscribed on it: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” She says that when she was calm and trusting, she would hold the plaque in her hand, like a steadying weight—something solid to cling to. But when pain or doubt crept in—when trust gave way to frustration—she’d quietly put it back into the cupholder and grumble a bit.

This psalm reminds me of her experience—the psalm that offers little to encourage. It’s not neat. It’s not tidy. It doesn’t wrap up with hope or healing. Instead, the psalmist cries out: “I am overwhelmed with troubles and my life draws near to death… Why, Lord, do you reject me and hide your face from me?” (Psalm 88:3, 14).  He speaks into the silence. No answers. No resolution. Just questions.

That’s the space she was in—trusting, yet struggling. Trusting, but wounded. Like the psalmist, she believed in God. She called out to Him. But she didn’t pretend things were okay. Her prayers were not polished. They were real. Even when she tucked the plaque away, she never threw it out. That verse—”I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”—was still close at hand. She wasn’t denying her faith in Jesus. She was wrestling with it. And in that wrestling, she joined a long line of saints—from David to Job to Paul—who knew what it meant to cry out and wait in the dark.

Not every story ends with healing. Not every psalm ends with praise. But even Psalm 88 begins with this: “Lord, you are the God who saves me; day and night I cry out to you.” Sometimes that’s the most powerful testimony of all—not the victory, but the perseverance. The clinging. The crying out and waiting—even when the answers don’t come.

“For faith is a constant struggle. It wrestles with doubt, despair, and death.” — Martin Luther

Application questions: This psalm is filled with honest questions and deep pain. How does it comfort or challenge you to know that the Bible includes such things?  In times of suffering, do you find yourself holding onto truth like Philippians 4:13—or setting it aside for a while? What helps you return to trust when you’ve been wrestling with God?

MAY 1

Psalm 87

Psalm 87:6, “The Lord records as he registers the peoples, ‘This one was born there.'”

Psalm 87 offers a stunning vision of Zion—not just as Israel’s beloved capital, but as the spiritual epicenter of God’s presence and divine favor. More than a physical city, Zion becomes a symbol of God’s redemptive plan. What’s especially striking is the psalm’s universal message: people from nations far beyond Israel, even historical enemies like Egypt (Rahab) and Babylon, will one day be counted as citizens of Zion. This is not merely about geography—it’s about belonging. God is building a people not based on heritage or birthplace, but on spiritual rebirth.

That idea brings to mind something as ordinary as a birth certificate. Mine says I was born at Portland Osteopathic Hospital in Portland, Oregon—a hospital that, interestingly, no longer exists. Having lived over 65 years in Oregon, I qualify for certain benefits, like a Pioneer License for fishing and hunting. But beyond that, there aren’t many exclusive perks to being a native Oregonian. As beautiful as my home state is, it also has its flaws, like anywhere else.

Still, each year, I mark that physical birthday with gratitude. But there’s another birthday that far surpasses it in meaning—the day I was “born again.” Jesus tells Nicodemus in John 3 that no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born of the Spirit. This spiritual birth—the moment a person places faith in Christ—is what makes someone a true citizen of God’s Kingdom. As John 1:12 declares, “To all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.”

One day, there will be a celebration unlike any other. Revelation 5 gives us a glimpse of it: people from every nation, tribe, and tongue gathered in worship around the throne, honoring the Lamb who was slain. That heavenly chorus will include those born in every corner of the world—united not by earthly citizenship, but by their spiritual rebirth in Christ.

Your earthly birthplace may be on your birth certificate, but your spiritual rebirth is what secures your place in heaven. Have you had a second birthday? Have you been born of the flesh and of the Spirit?

“Born of the Spirit with life from above, Into God’s family divine, Justified fully thru Calvary’s love, O what a standing is mine.”— “Heaven Came Down,” John W. Peterson

Application Questions: Psalm 87 celebrates God’s plan to welcome people from all nations into His Kingdom.  How does this affect the way you view others, especially those who are from differing cultures?  Can you identify a “second birthday” when you placed your trust in Jesus?

APRIL 30

Psalm 86

Psalm 86:11, “Teach me your way, O Lord, that I may walk in your truth; unite my heart to fear your name.”

Psalm 86 stands as a deeply personal and heartfelt prayer of David, expressing his profound dependence on God’s mercy and unwavering faithfulness. Like many other psalms, it is marked by his earnest cries for help, grounded in his confidence in the Lord’s compassion, forgiveness, and steadfast love. Central to David’s plea is a sincere desire to be taught God’s ways and to walk in obedience. Among the most stirring lines is David’s cry, “Unite my heart to fear Your name”—a longing for undivided devotion and a life centered in reverent worship.

This same spirit of wholehearted consecration is beautifully echoed in the life and work of Frances Ridley Havergal (1836–1879), often referred to as the “consecration poet.” Havergal devoted her life to Christ with a singular focus, and her hymns reflected her devotion. Her spiritual journey began remarkably early—memorizing Scripture by age four and composing poetry by the time she was seven. Despite a life marked by frail health and lasting only 43 years, she left a lasting legacy through her writings, including the beloved hymn “Take My Life and Let It Be,” written in 1874.

The story behind the hymn is as moving as the words themselves. In her own account, Havergal describes a brief visit to Areley House, where she prayed earnestly for the spiritual renewal of everyone there. She recalled: “There were ten persons in the house, some unconverted and long prayed for, some converted, but not rejoicing Christians. He gave me the prayer, ‘Lord, give me all in this house!’ And He just did. Before I left the house every one had got a blessing. The last night of my visit, after I had retired, the governess asked me to go to the two daughters. They were crying, etc.; then and there both of them trusted and rejoiced; it was nearly midnight. I was too happy to sleep, and passed most of the night in praise and renewal of my own consecration; and these little couplets formed themselves, and chimed in my heart one after another till they finished with ‘Ever, Only, ALL for Thee!'”

Havergal’s experience that night reflects the same longing expressed in David’s psalm—a yearning for God’s presence to transform hearts and lives, beginning with her own. Both the psalm and the hymn invite us to consider what it means to live a life wholly surrendered, with hearts united in devotion to the One who is ever faithful.

“Take my heart it is thine own; it shall be thy royal throne.” — Frances Ridley Havergal

Application Questions: David prayed, “Unite my heart to fear Your name.” In what areas of your life do you feel divided in your devotion to God, and how might you invite Him to bring unity and focus to your heart?

APRIL 29

Psalm 85

Psalm 85:6, “Will you not revive us again?”

The heartfelt cry of the psalmist — “Will You not revive us again?”—has echoed through the generations as the enduring plea of God’s people. In 1863, William Paton MacKay (1839–1885), a Scottish doctor, Presbyterian minister, and hymn writer, captured this longing in his well-known hymn, “Revive Us Again.” His own story of personal revival is both remarkable and deeply encouraging.

Raised in a devout Christian home, William was grounded in the faith by his godly mother. However, upon entering the University of Edinburgh to study medicine, he drifted into moral decline and heavy drinking. His spiritual descent reached a low point when he pawned the very Bible his mother had lovingly given him.

As a physician, MacKay regularly witnessed the contrast between patients who died with peace through faith in Christ and those who passed without hope. Yet, by his own admission, he was becoming a “thorough infidel.” That path changed when a critically injured young laborer was brought into the hospital.

MacKay later recalled: “My dear mother… had been a godly, pious woman, quite often telling me of the Savior… But nothing had made a deep impression on me. The older I grew, the more wicked I became….”

The dying man, fully aware of his condition, asks only to see his landlady—to settle a small debt and to request “The Book.” MacKay visited him daily and was struck by the man’s peace: “What struck me most was the quiet, almost happy expression constantly on his face….”

After the man’s passing, the nurse held up a book and asks, “‘What shall we do with this?’… ‘The Bible of the poor man…. As long as he was able to read it, he did so, and when he was unable to do so anymore, he kept it under his bed cover.'”

To MacKay’s astonishment, the Bible was his own: “My name was still in it, written in my mother’s hand….”  Gripped by conviction, he reflected: “It had given comfort… in his last hours… a guide… into eternal life… And this Book… I had actually sold for a ridiculous price…. Be it sufficient to say that the regained possession of my Bible was the cause of my conversion.”

“Revive us again, fill each heart with thy love. May each soul be rekindled with fire from above.”—William Mackay

Application Questions: What would revival look like in your own life?  In what ways can MacKay’s story encourage you regarding the influence of your life on the others around you?