From Genesis 24: The Next Right Step

“Then the man knelt low, worshipped the Lord, and said, ‘Blessed be the Lord, the God of my master Abraham….’” (vv. 26-27).

You and I pray a lot, don’t we?

Maybe it’s not super disciplined. Maybe it’s neither intense nor intentional. But we pray.

Because, ultimately, we’re asking. For help. For clarity. For a blessing.

Here’s my question: When God answers—and He undoubtedly answers—what’s the next right step?

Too often we hear, we receive, and we keep on rolling. Acknowledgement of an answer to prayer is scant, momentary. Besides, the next need is likely already on deck.

We have a lot to learn from Abraham’s servant. The moment that He knew God had answered his (and his master’s) prayer, he worshipped. He stopped everything, bowed low, and gave God the praise He was due. The servant knew the next right step is always worship.

Give him a thought before you breeze past the next blessing.

— Tyler

From Psalm 19: The Concert

“Then I will be blameless….” (v. 13).

Every time I share a thought from this Psalm, I am undoubtedly spoiling a future message. Psalm 19 is among my very favorite passages of the Scriptures.

Why?

Because it is an entire Gospel worldview—the arc of truth as we know it—in one tidy song.

And it really is meant to be musical. It’s written for worshippers to sing along. The Psalmist specifically noted that it was for choir direction.

So we ought to sing it—and, when you do, you’re joining a concert already in progress.

Because all of creation—the heavens and the earth—are singing a testimony of God. They always have, and they always will. Everyone everywhere ever can see the beauty and order and wonder of Creation—and they ought to join the song.

And, in concert, the Scriptures—the very Word of God—are singing, too. They always have, and they always will. That which is generally known through Creation is also specifically known through revelation. The Word teaches us and helps us and encourages us and challenges us—and those who read its song of hope ought to join the song as well.

It’s a concert, the world and the Word with a single truth, though it is sung in harmony.

And, lest we miss the point of Psalm 19, it’s the song that aims our hearts toward the mercy, goodness, and forgiveness of God.

Know where to find it, and add your voice to the band.

— Tyler

From Genesis 22: Substitutes

“So Abraham went and took the ram and offered it as a burnt offering in place of his son” (v. 13).

It could have ended differently.

God—the only Holy Sovereign God—could have demanded Abraham’s obedience all the way to the awful conclusion. If it were God’s will, then the sacrifice of a son would be worth it, because this God is worthy.

It could have ended differently.

But it didn’t.

Abraham’s God—our God—is on the side of life. He is merciful. And, when His own worthiness stands in demand of a right human offering, He Himself provides what is suitable.

A substitute.

May this stirring account ever stir you toward gratitude for the Gospel. When any other sacrifice could be expected—and where no other sacrifice could be effective—God has provided a Substitute. His Lamb—our Jesus—has been given. The mercy He showed on Abraham’s mountain is ultimately realized on the cross of Christ.

We ought to have been the ones sacrificing. It could have ended differently.

But it didn’t.

— Tyler

From Psalm 17: Awake to What?

“…when I awake, I will be satisfied with your presence” (v. 15).

Maybe you’re like me.

When I awake…I worry.

When I awake, my mind is flooded with the day’s concerns—not to mention yesterday’s, or tomorrow’s.

When I awake, fear and anxiety and stress threaten to derail me from the first moment.

But I know Him.

I know His goodness and His grace and His salvation. In the face of a thousand worries, I see His face. And He roots me in both security…and eternity.

Instead of awaking to all that other stuff, I will awake, and be satisfied with His presence.

— Tyler

From Psalm 16: Multiplied

“The sorrows of those who take another god for themselves will multiply….” (v. 4).

Psalm 16 is a deeply encouraging prayer. Here, the Psalmist confesses his pure satisfaction in the presence of the LORD. He notes that God has been gracious, generous, and good. He finds comfort—even in life’s long nights—because he chooses the LORD’s ways. Literally, he “puts the LORD in front of him,” and he knows peace because of it.

He also manages to explain, in one brief sentence, why everything else for everyone else around us keeps getting worse.

The sorrows of those who take another god for themselves will multiply….

What happens when someone chooses to follow not-God? Who counsels them for goodness? Who shepherds them toward peace? Where do they end up?

When some other god is permitted to lead—the gods of self-gratification or self-satisfaction or self-determination—you only ever land in broken places. When you “let your heart instruct you” (v. 7), you plumb the depths of moral corruption. Sorrows aren’t solved in the self—they are multiplied!

You can see it all around you. May you never see it in you.

— Tyler

From Psalm 15: The Laundry List

“LORD, who can dwell in your tent? Who can live on your holy mountain?” (v. 1).

Before you take one step further, account for God’s mercy, which has come to you in Christ. You have been propelled out of performance-based religion, by the power of His atoning sacrifice. There is grace, which is the Gospel’s Good News. You don’t have to perform perfectly.

You do, however, have to read this list.

The Psalmist’s picture of a righteous person produces quite the laundry list. In answering the question—“What must one do to stand in the presence of God?”—he is given a detailed accounting of the kind if character God values.

What makes the list?

Purity.

Devotion to truth.

Community.

Integrity.

Generosity.

Examine your lived life in the light of that Gospel—really, the Light of Holy God.

Are you living like you value what He values?

—Tyler

From Genesis 18: So She Laughed

“So [Sarah] laughed to herself….” (v. 12).

Imagine Holy God breaking into your day-to-day.

Imagine it in this season, after however many seasons of disappointment and disobedience and dithering.

Imagine Him welcoming you into a plan that will bless future generations, alter the trajectory of history, and grow heaven’s kingdom.

What’s your reaction?

A chuckle?

A “Yeah, right”?

Don’t be so hard on incredulous Sarah when you read—because she’s not that different from us. And, if she’s not that different, then know that your life’s calling—the thing for God that is impossible without God—is valid and real.

So, yeah, maybe laugh a little—but also learn to listen.

— Tyler

From Genesis 17: It Doesn’t Matter

“…the LORD appeared to him, saying, ‘I am the LORD God Almighty. Live in my presence and be blameless” (v. 1).

It doesn’t matter if you are old or young, whether you’re 9 or 39 or 99.

It doesn’t matter if you’re just coming off your biggest mistake.

It doesn’t matter if, day by day, you’ve struggled with questions about God’s purposes and God’s path for you.

Holy God keeps breaking in with a consistent invitation…and a persistent calling.

“Live in my presence and be blameless.”

We, like Abram, have had big questions—and we, too, have tried to answer them in our own strength. God didn’t abandon him for his missteps, and He hasn’t abandoned you, either. But the calling doesn’t change: trust who He says He is, stay close in prayer and in worship, and follow His way.

It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve messed up. He keeps showing up—and He keeps calling you to genuine devotion and repentance and purity.

How will you respond?

— Tyler

From Psalm 12: Pure Words

“The words of the LORD are pure words….” (v. 6).

It is the doctrine at the heart of doctrines:

The Scriptures—inspired and true—are pure words, because they are God’s words. Every time you encounter the Bible’s testimony about itself, you ought to bookmark it. It unequivocally, consistently, and clearly claims the authority of inspiration, for our good and for God’s glory.

But there’s something more here:

While that vital confession certainly draws me in, I am even more captivated by its context, specifically in Psalm 12. Here, the Psalmist notes the purity of God’s Word…just after he decries the deceptive, dubious, and dangerous speech of the faithless. As they lie—as they incessantly puff up their own words and their own way—countless innocents are endangered. Kids end up confused. The poor are pointed the wrong direction. The lost are fed lies, though they crave peace. That’s what every culture ever, when it divorces from God’s direction, has offered…with devastating results.

Yet the LORD rises up. He provides safety. There is a place the deceived and the confused and the needy can run.

And, as it turns out, the ramparts of safety’s stronghold are God’s pure words.

— Tyler

From Genesis 12: Blessings

“…and you will be a blessing” (v. 12).

So much of our energy in prayer is spent seeking God’s blessings. That’s not wrong. We’re taught—we’re implored—to ask.

But there are two sides to the “blessing” reality.

Yes, God blesses, and He does so by grace. The right response of the human, then, is worship. Faith ought to follow the realization of God’s gracious goodness.

But God doesn’t bless into dead ends. He blesses so that we might be blessings, too, so that others can know the hope and the generosity and the love God has through us.

Abram’s family would bring the Blessing, the line and lineage on the way to Jesus, our Lord and Savior. Yet our families, by Gospel-driven goodnesses, become blessing-bringers, too.

You, my friend, will be a blessed blessing.

— Tyler

From Genesis 11: What You Get When You Stack Them Up

“They said to each other, ‘Come, let’s make oven-fired bricks….’” (Genesis 11:3)

We are so certain in our judgment of history:

I would never build a monument to myself! I would never devote my life’s work to mere human achievement!

And maybe you’re right. Maybe we aren’t deliberately blueprinting the tower of us.

But the problem in Babel didn’t start with the building.

It started with the bricks.

Make bricks, and make enough of them, and watch what happens when you stack them up.

So what are the smaller things you’re getting, making, or desiring for yourself? Dollars? Possessions? They might not look like a monument to your own glory when you have just a few of them lying around—but watch what happens as you seek more, and you start to stack them up. A thing God placed in your hands, if it is stewarded only for your security or enjoyment, turns into a Babel-brick before you know it.

So let’s count the materials of life as a real gift, yes, but let’s be wary of how we deploy them.

— Tyler

From Genesis 9: God’s Bow

“The bow will be in the clouds, and I will look at it….” (Genesis 9:16)

We, culturally, have taken the sign of the rainbow and disconnected it from both origin and purpose.

We’re tempted to blame others for that. But this is not merely a secular problem. We have looked to this sign—a picture of God’s promise to never again flood the earth in judgment—and we have made it about us. About what we see.

But, while the bow remains a generally hopeful phenomenon, we have to remember who was meant to do the looking in the first place.

Whatever the human angle might be, this is a thing of God for God, so that—when He sees us through its prism—He remembers His promises. He remembers His grace. He remembers His mercy. He remembers that, though we deserve the opposite, He has chosen to redirect the punishment of sin—and be patient with us.

For a culture that has roundly confused the sign of God’s bow, this is remarkably good news.

— Tyler

From Psalm 7: An Intersection

“The LORD judges the peoples; vindicate me, LORD, according to my righteousness and my integrity” (v. 8).

It’s a critical intersection for us in the faith.

God is genuinely, authoritatively, and rightly the Judge of the whole earth…and we will be judged.

David’s prayer—that God might judge him (and everyone) according to his own righteousness and integrity—is only minimally comforting. I know my own integrity, my own righteousness—or, more accurately, my tragic lapses in both. I read this, and I am comforted by God’s own character, but I know that my only hope—my only standing—is that of Another.

Don’t discount the judgmental authority of the righteous God—and revel anew in the mercy of Christ, who stands at the intersection for you.

— Tyler

From Genesis 7: Commanded

It hit me before I could even finish the thought.

I, while contemplating Noah’s radical obedience, began to think, “Wouldn’t it be great to know, in clarified detail, what I ought to be doing in obedience to Holy God? I mean, Noah had the plan….”

And then it hit me.

I have the plan, too! God has made Himself—His will, His way, and His work—known to me in His Word. Through the love and mercy of Christ, I’ve been brought in, and His Spirit makes that Word alive in my hearing. So, when I read (so long as I read), I know what to do!

(And it’s just as countercultural as building the first-ever boat before the first-ever rains in anticipation of the worst-to-date judgment.)

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and mind and soul and strength, and live your neighborhood as yourself.

Repent, and believe the Evangelism.

Go, therefore, and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them and teaching them to observe all that has been commanded.

Hear the Word, and act accordingly.

Will we, who know, do everything that the Lord has commanded?

— Tyler

(Genesis 7:5)

From Genesis 6: The “However” Life

See if this sounds familiar:

By Genesis 6, the corruption that came in sin reaches its fullest possible expression. All of everything is regrettably, tragically, lamentably lost. Wrongful lusts and out-of-bounds relationships and darkened thinking all run rampant in an unrepentant humanity. Heaven’s judgment is the predictable end.

Sound like any earth you know?

Yet there remains one distinct life on the darkened scene: Noah, we’re told, remained righteous. His is a “however” life (v. 8). Everyone else has taken sin and run with it. Noah has run from it.

We ought to follow the “however” path. It starts with cherishing the grace-gift of salvation, but it cannot end there. You are called to distinction in a dark world. You are urged away from the things the wider culture chooses, even celebrates, though it undoubtedly sets you apart from them. And you are tasked with radical obedience.

Will you choose a “however” life in your lived days?

— Tyler

From Psalm 4: More Joy than They Have

There’s always something.

They have a better car, a nicer house, the cooler toys. Maybe they have that little bit more financial freedom.

There’s always something.

In Psalm 4, the psalmist David wrestles this, though he should be resting. It’s a “night prayer,” the cry of his heart while his head is on the pillow. And he is wondering, in the midst of all his conflict and all the comparison, whether faithfulness is worth it.

The answer, of course, is yes.

“You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and new wine abound,” he says (v. 7). Though sin warps us toward discontent, faith brings us back to solid ground. Our interior dialogue might cycle through the strains of dissatisfaction—but this confession roots us to contentment.

Here is more joy, in Him, by faith. Change the tune of your night prayers accordingly.

— Tyler

From Genesis 3: Covered

From the first, there has always been a cost to cover human sin.

When the Man and Woman claimed the out-of-bounds fruit—when they took a bite out of God’s authority and grasped at a godlikeness all their own—their shame separated them from the Holy. How could rebels stand in His presence? Their naked transgression changed everything.

Yet God, in His mercy, chose to cover them. He spent the life of His own creation to ameliorate their shame. Blood was shed for them from the first.

Genesis 3 is, like, the tragedy. But take heart: It also figures, in the shadow of our shame, the shape of the hope to come.

God, in His mercy, would spend the life of His creation to cover our sins once and for all. Whatever creature He gave in the Garden, His Lamb would come with the Gospel.

— Tyler

(Genesis 3:21)

From Genesis 2: Dust and Breath

It’s a persistent Creation reality:

I am not much on my own.

The material is just that, just dust. But, in God’s hands and with God’s breath, the material of man is instead the image of God. His special design of humankind—indwelled with the breath of life from God—is Creation’s crowning triumph. And, for all of history onward, it is our core truth: in Him is life, and apart from Him we are nothing.

Cherish life and breath today, you who are dust. He is with you, in you—and you do nothing on your own.

— Tyler

(Gen. 2:7)

From Genesis 1: Divine Distinction

The song of Creation—the beautifully inspired history of Genesis 1—features a subtle theme.

Divine distinction.

One expanse from another. Land from water. The animal from the Image Bearer.

Light from dark.

We like to be the deciders. We like to set the boundaries. The heart of all sin traces back to humans desiring to determine right and wrong for themselves. Yet the distinction between “good” and “not” has always been God’s—and God has granted that light is good.

We, then, aim to walk in the light as He has defined it. What He has called dark—sin—has to stay there. And we don’t get to rearrange the divine distinction according to our desires!

God separated the light from the dark, and it is good…for our good.

— Tyler

(Genesis 1:4)

From Psalm 1: Righteousness or Ruin

Whenever temptation comes, I get awfully forgetful.

I forget that the world’s groupthink is antithetical to goodness. I forget just how impermanent wicked things prove to be. I forget that unrighteousness is literally ruinous.

The Word is plain:

Joy, delight, and fulfillment are found in God’s instruction. Happiness is here, in the truth. The only things in this life that endure are the ones rooted in righteousness and faithfulness.

I tend to forget that when I’m going with the world’s flow, when I’m tempted.

Let’s change that, shall we?

— Tyler

(Psalm 1)