From Lamentations 1: They Aren’t Here for You

“She weeps bitterly during the night, with tears on her cheeks. There is no one to offer her comfort, not one from all her lovers. All her friends have betrayed her; they have become her enemies.” (v. 2)

Here is the end result for a people who give their hearts to things not God:

You end up alone.

Jeremiah weeps over the abandoned, exiled state of Jerusalem and her people. And he does so with full knowledge of why all this pain and grief and brokenness is now theirs. The people gave themselves to idolatry, paganism, and self-righteousness. They courted a lot of other gods. They placed their hearts in the hands of other “lovers.”

And, when the night comes, it reveals the truth:

All those things you gave yourself to aren’t here for you.

It’s the emptiness of every unfaithful thing that causes our tears. We weep, because we had better. We weep, because the things we chose instead come to nothing. We weep, because every not-God things abandons you.

Choose carefully, then, what you trust your heart to.

—Tyler

From Job 31: The End of all that Junk is in the Beginning

“Did not the one who made me in the womb also make them? Did not the same God form us both in the womb?” (v. 15)

For a couple of generations now, our society has twisted itself into every kind of knot, with the hope of undoing our relational ills. Yet we find ourselves tangled up still—in racism, egotism, classism, and a bunch of other “isms.”

Why hasn’t progress been the answer?

Well, it’s because the end of all that junk isn’t found in new conclusions. It isn’t something we’ll graduate into.

The end of all that junk is in the beginning.

Humans are the same—one blood, shared origin, equal dignity—from the womb. All of us bear the image of God. The only differences—and they are shockingly, infinitesimally small—are minor genetic realities and cultural-circumstantial.

Until we recognize how we are made—and whose we are—we won’t be free from the junk.

So look to the beginning, and you’ll find the way to a better end.

— Tyler

From Daniel 12: “Hey, that’s me!”

“I heard but did not understand. So I asked, ‘My Lord, what will be the outcome of these things?’ He said, ‘Go on your way, Daniel, for the words are secret and sealed until the time of the end.’” (vv. 8-9)

Have you ever been reading biblical prophecy—Revelation, apocalypse, the signs—and thought, “I have no idea what to make of this”?

Be comforted:

You are not alone.

When you get to the end of the Book of Daniel—and when you read through several chapters of apocalyptic expectation—you might feel in over your head. What’s the deal with all the “times” and the “days”? Who, exactly, do these kingdoms represent in history? And where did Michael come from anyway? It’s a lot for any person to comprehend.

Even Daniel.

The man—wise, inspired, favored—finds himself asking, “What does all this mean?” Really, he’s playing the part of every wondering, hoping, yet under-informed human in history . Daniel is me, is you.

Which means we’re all meant to trust the Lord’s response here:

Go in faith. You won’t be given every answer. But trust that the end is in His hands.

— Tyler

From Job 28: Where it’s at

“He said to mankind, ‘The fear of the Lord—that is wisdom. And to turn from evil is understanding.’” (v. 28)

The Word makes it all pretty plain.

It isn’t found on the earth, in the earth, or under the earth.

It doesn’t come from the learned in the land if the living.

It can’t be bought.

So then, for everyone who has ever wondered where wisdom might be found, we have to look somewhere else.

And the Bible tells us where it’s at.

Wisdom is found in worship—of the Living God, who is known by His Spirit, which is revealed by His Word.

Wisdom is found is worship.

And it is made evident in repentance.

Stop strip-mining the stuff of earth, then, and submit to the One who made it.

— Tyler

From Daniel 4: Look Up

“But at the end of those days, I, Nebuchadnezzar, looked up to heaven, and my sanity returned to me. Then I praised the Most High and honored and glorified him who lives forever: For his dominion is an everlasting dominion, and his kingdom is from generation to generation.” (v. 34)

Every time I return to this passage, my mind rattles off the names of four or five world leaders I wish it would apply to.

How different might our geopolitics be if the politicians at the fore would only look up?

The reality is that, if our eyes are anywhere else, we’ll only find insanity. We’ll find greed and pride and immorality. If our eyes are on the earth and its things, they will only be filled with self.

It’s the same thing that caused this king to act like an animal.

But if we would look up—if we would couch our world and our work in the context of His Word and His way—we would rediscover sanity. If they would, then they might govern with eternity in mind. If every earth-bent human would lift his eyes to the true King, he could live fully human!

Let the testimony of Babylon’s king aim our eyes rightly.

— Tyler

From Job 24: Diagnostic

“The wicked are those who rebel against the light. They do not recognize its ways or stay on its paths.” (v. 13)

Here’s a simple—but effective—diagnostic tool for your life:

If the thing you’re doing could only be done in the dark…

If another’s eyes would be enough to deter you…

If it has to be kept in the corner and out of sight…

If the light would utterly expose you…

…then it’s not for you.

The light for our path, which is God’s Word, guides us toward the good. Every time we turn from it to taste some other thing, we find ourselves in darkened spaces, far from home.

So put the light to your deeds, diagnose their rightness, and make some changes.

— Tyler

From Daniel 2: Squad Goals

“Then Daniel went to his house and told his friends Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah about the matter, urging them to ask the God of the heavens for mercy concerning this mystery, so Daniel and his friends would not be destroyed with the rest of Babylon’s wise men.” (vv. 17-18)

I don’t know what you’re facing…

…but I do know how you ought to face it.

Our obvious priority is worship, devotion, and faith under the One True God. We trust Him. We praise Him. And we pray to Him.

What’s next?

Get prayerful people around you.

Daniel faced a crisis in Babylon. Lives—including his—were on the line. And the only way forward was a supernatural gift, the grace of wisdom, which could only come from God.

We can be assured that Daniel prayed, and we should imitate that. But he also gathered his closest friends and trusted them to pray, too. The prayer God eventually answers wasn’t the prayer of one man, but the prayer of a community of believers.

Who’s in your prayer squad, friend? Keep asking and seeking and knocking when the crisis comes, yes, but stop doing it solo. Find some friends, be faithful to pray together and for each other, and watch how God answers.

— Tyler

From Daniel 1: Opt Out

“Daniel determined that he would not defile himself with the king’s food or with the wine he drank. So he asked permission from the chief eunuch not to defile himself.” (v. 8)

One note right from the start:

This wasn’t about health food. This wasn’t a fasting diet. This wasn’t about balancing plates and pyramids. That colors the picture, but it wasn’t what Daniel was opting out of.

When Daniel and his Hebrew companions were abducted into Babylon’s royal house, they were really abducted into indoctrination. The king’s servants worked to obliterate there cultural, religious, and dietary backgrounds by giving them the best that Babylon had to offer—by force. They were to be grown into good Babylonians.

And that meant partaking in the whole cultural diet—including foods God had disallowed, which were likely from animals sacrificed to pagan idols, regardless of any notion of biblical rightness.

So what is Daniel opting out of?

The indulgence of going with the cultural flow. Of consuming, regardless of biblical conviction. He and his friends are asking permission to serve their ruler while also honoring the true Sovereign.

Opting in to Babylon would have been safer, but not better.

Does this intersect your lived experience here? What do you need to opt out of, to stay true to your God in your culture?

— Tyler

From Ezekiel 36: Loathe

“You will remember your evil ways and your deeds that were not good, and you will loathe yourselves for your iniquities and detestable practices.” (v. 36)

There really is just the one moral indicator of the believer’s made-new life:

You will utterly despise the way you were, the things you did, and the temptations that would lure you back.

When you receive the gift of redemption, by grace through faith because of Christ, everything about who you used to be and what you used to do changes. It is all cast in the harshest light—the light of purity—which illuminates its loathsomeness. You, saved, learn to loathe what you once loved.

Regeneration follows repentance—so turn from all of that stuff, and be transformed, in Christ.

— Tyler

From Job 19: At the End

“But I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the end he will stand on the dust.” (v. 25)

It can feel like whatever you’re going through will be forever.

A part of the story can feel like the whole story.

Whether it is pain or sorrow or confusion or lack, the crisis can feel like the conclusion.

But a day is coming, another end.

And, at the end, you and I will see the victory of our Redeemer. We will see with our own eyes that He has indeed conquered death. We will see Him standing on the dust of what was, and we will see Him welcoming us into what is and will be, forever.

He stands, will all of our fears and doubts and tears under His feet, and we will see Him.

— Tyler

From Jeremiah 33: Unfailing

“This is what the Lord says: If I do not keep my covenant with the day and with the night, and if I fail to establish the fixed order of heaven and earth, then I might also reject the descendants of Jacob and of my servant David. That is, I would not take rulers from his descendants to rule over the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. But in fact, I will restore their fortunes and have compassion on them.” (vv. 25-26)

When you are caught in the crisis…

When all that is good seems to have been evacuated…

When hope is hard to come by…

…how in the world can you be confident? How can anyone trust in a turnaround? What evidence is there that God is, and that God is for us?

Here is where the words given through Jeremiah help us:

Our confidence doesn’t just come from the appearance of what we’d hoped for. It isn’t rooted in the full revelation of all the good we’d prayed to see. The evidence that God is for us still isn’t measured by our sought-after blessings in the moment.

The evidence that gives us confidence is that God is still very clearly governing His world. His unfailing faithfulness today—sunrises and sunsets, life and not death, a world in finely-tuned balance—tells us that He will be faithful then, too. He doesn’t have to provide the specific thing we desired right now; He simply provides.

Trust Him, then, for He has ordered this world for good.

—Tyler

From Job 15: Trouble’s War

“Trouble and distress terrify him, overwhelming him like a king prepared for battle.” (v. 24)

We get confused about our troubles.

We tend to think of them as things that are, things that exist in this moment and that drag us down. We count all our difficulties, and we lament their existence.

But the trouble with our troubles isn’t the troubles themselves.

Job’s friend uses an apt analogy: A person’s troubles aren’t a wave that crashes into him. They are an opposing army. And, more curiously, they aren’t always attacking. Sometimes they are merely arrayed and arranged for the assault.

You and I? We are wearied and worried by these things—not because of what they are, but because of who we have to be because of them. We look around and see Trouble’s army, and we know that a fight is coming. We know cost is coming, even if the cost is unknowable. We know that, because these things surround us on every front, we will be pitched into a battle we cannot hope to win in our own strength.

Job’s friend leverages this for a reminder toward repentance. The rest of the Word would leverage it for your repentant trust in the Almighty, who has overcome the world.

— Tyler

From Jeremiah 29: A Note to the Not-Home-Yet

“Pursue the well-being of the city I have deported you to. Pray to the Lord on its behalf, for when it thrives, you will thrive.” (v. 7)

You know it. You feel it.

You and I are not home yet.

We are sojourners, living these precious days in a place that pales when compared to home.

So…what will you make of this life—of these days—as we await the place we long to be?

Will you retreat? Will you stock up and lock up and ride this thing out? Will you join the contrary chorus of those who merely criticize? Will you despise this life and these days, in the name of the hope that lay ahead?

Or will you steward it all for good?

God’s word for the exile isn’t, Retreat! Complain! Throw religious rocks from your sacred fortresses! His instructions have never centered on sitting back and watching for the judgment we know will come.

Instead, we live and we work and we love for the good of—we pray, and we pour ourselves into—the wellbeing of our not-home-yet neighborhood. We steward our citizenship. We invest for a Kingdom downline. We show light and hope to those who are here with us, and we do it with a prayer that they might be called home with us, when the day arrives.

To you who are not home yet, pursue good here, for the sake of the Gospel.

— Tyler

From Job 13: Shutting Up

“If only you would shut up and let that be your wisdom!” (v. 5)

Sometimes our words help.

They can be comforting. They can be clarifying. They can be caring.

Sometimes our words help.

But…

…never underestimate the value of quiet when you seek to care.

Job—though apparently a fan of speeches himself—endures a series of lectures from his friends. Not everything they say is wrong. In fact, much of it is helpful theology. But that’s not what their hurting brother needed in the moment. Job lashes out, maybe because he remembers how effective their care was when their care simply meant their presence (cf. Job 3:13).

Please please please continue to go to those who are hurting. Love them. Be present. And, when appropriate, speak truth and pray for them.

Just be willing to be quiet with them, too.

— Tyler

From Job 10: Just Tell Me!

“I will say to God, ‘Do not declare me guilty! Let me know why you prosecute me.’” (v. 2)

It is, perhaps, the most relatable human question:

“Lord, would you please just tell me why?”

Why all this pain? Why do I struggle with my guilty feelings? Why do I feel like you’re out to get me?

It’s a pretty relatable prayer.

I wish I could tell you that you’ll get an answer when you ask it. I do believe you’ll get one eventually—when His higher ways and His for-good purposes come to their full realization—but the answer might not come while you’re praying through the pain. (Job, for instance, has about thirty more chapters before it all comes together for him, by grace.)

The great comfort of the Scriptures is that it is OK to ask. The great challenge is that, in asking, you are also commanded to trust.

— Tyler

From 2 Kings 21: Influencers

“Manasseh caused them to stray so that they did worse evil than the nations the Lord had destroyed before the Israelites.” (v. 9)

I know it can be hard to relate to dusty kings from way back when…

…but have you given much consideration to the stewardship of your influence?

Maybe you’re not a natural (or an empowered) leader. Maybe there are only a few people who look to your example. Maybe your sphere of influence is as small as your Thanksgiving table.

But you are an influencer.

The question is, Will you steward your influence for the glory of God…or for something less? In faith history, a good king could turn the hearts of his people back to the Lord, simply by maintaining a life of faithful worship. And a wicked king could accomplish the same influence in the opposite direction—a bad example encouraging even worse from those who look to him.

Which kind of influencer will you be? Will your family, fellow church members, colleagues and friends see a followable goodness? Or will they see a compatriot in ongoing sin?

Someone is watching, so steward it well.

— Tyler

From Job 8: The Previous Generation

“For ask the previous generation, and pay attention to what their ancestors discovered, since we were born only yesterday and know nothing.” (vv. 8-9)

Pretty much everybody knows that I am a nostalgic guy.

I like the stuff of yesteryear. And, though my yesteryear may not be as far back as yours, it all remains endlessly interesting to me. There is a charm and a simplicity and a purity that seems to speak from days gone by—and, generally, it speaks peace.

In our modern culture, we have become a people obsessed with new and next, with something like progress. But are we actually any wiser, any purer, or any more secure because of it? I think we could learn from the words of Job’s friend when he says, “Ask the previous generation, and pay attention to what their fathers discovered”—because what they discovered was a real reliance upon the God of the Bible. Not everything back there is good, but there remains a ground in history that we have largely given away.

Maybe the stuff of yesteryear—their faith, their morality, their patterned worship—is worth bringing back.

— Tyler

From Job 6: The Immense Weight of Going Through It

“If only my grief could be weighed and my devastation placed with it on the scales. For then it would outweigh the sand of the seas!” (vv. 2-3)

Don’t underestimate it.

When you are in pain—when you have experienced illness and exhaustion and loss—the weight of it is real. It can bury you, emotionally. You start to do the math on all the things on your shoulders and in your heart and on your mind and in your flesh…and you are forced to conclude that it is immense.

Job and his friends will have trouble seeing this the same way. And, honestly, those around you might not really get it, either. You, then, need to remember two things:

If people don’t get what you’re going through, show them grace.

And, if what you’re going through reminds you of your utter powerlessness, let it drive you into the presence of the One who saves.

— Tyler

From Micah 5: Who are You Waiting For?

“Bethlehem Ephrathah, you are small among the clans of Judah; one will come from you to be ruler over Israel for me. His origin is from antiquity, from ancient times.” (v. 2)

I don’t know how many saviors you have looked for.

I don’t know all the would-be fix-all heroes you have tried to elect. I don’t know which gurus and talking heads you have trusted. I don’t know who it is you thought might heal your hurts and right your wrongs and renew your hopes.

I don’t know who you’re waiting for.

But One has come. One has been given. The One who was promised—not as a prominent prince with a platform from someplace, but as a Shepherd—has already arrived.

Whoever you’ve been waiting, and whatever you’ve trusted, look to Him instead…

…and live.

— Tyler

From Job 3: Pain, and the Path

“Why is life given to a man whose path is hidden, whom God has hedged in?” (v. 3)

We’re not really surprised that Job’s pain causes him to question the goodness of life. We hurt, too, so we wonder right along with him:

Why do we live if living leaves us wounded?

Of course, we ought to run to our God with a confession of His goodness, and we ought to trust Him. His ways are higher than ours. Even through our not-good things, He is working out good. We are valuable to Him, loved by Him, and never once abandoned by him.

It will take Job, like, thirty-five chapters to even start to figure that out.

Want to know why?

It’s because, in our pain, it is hard to see the path. We feel boxed in. Our world gets smaller, and our faith narrows. We go to God with that classic prayer—Why me?—forgetting that there is more than your moment in the picture.

Be reassured: Feeling that way is not unbiblical. But staying there is.

— Tyler