Friday Evening Devotional for August 31, 2007

 

Welcome back to “Friday Evenings.” For the past two weeks I was unable to compile the “Tuesday Morning” pieces and the “FE” devotionals. My computer suffered a crashed hard-drive. Picture a preacher without a pulpit; a scientist without a lab; a singer without accompaniment. That is what I am without a computer. But everything is back to normal, faster and with more memory than before. I also learned the value of having an external hard drive. That, too, is new to the scene. We are back in business. Hopefully, you are, too. This week’s devotional was inspired by the writings of Max Lucado, from a book published by Word Publishing in 1996, God’s Inspirational Promise Book. His words are in set quotation marks, following the Scripture. Enjoy.

Tom Barnard, Editor.

God’s Love

 

“Lord God All-Powerful, who is like you? Lord, you are powerful and completely trustworthy.

Your kingdom is built on what is right and fair. Love and truth are in all you do.” (Psalm 89:8, 14 NCV)

 

“My child’s feelings are hurt. I tell her she’s special. My child is injured. I do whatever it takes to make her feel better. My child is afraid. I won’t go to sleep until she is secure.

 

“I’m not a hero…I’m a parent. When a child hurts, a parent does what comes naturally. He helps. Why don’t I let my Father do for me what I am more than willing to do for my own children? I’m learning. Being a father is teaching me that when I am criticized, injured, or afraid, there is a Father who will hold me until I’m better, help me until I can live with the hurt, and who won’t go to sleep when I’m afraid of waking up and seeing the dark.”

 

Lord, God. Why do I ever question your love for me? Your love is always what it always is. Your love is pure…forgiving…affirming…uplifting…securing…perfect…always the same. Each time I succeed, you are there—off-stage to the right—applauding. Each time I trip and fall, you are the one who is first on the scene to lift me up, clean off the dirt, kiss the wounds, and correct my faltering ways. Each time I fail, you are at the crash site—the very last one to leave and the first to meet me at the emergency room. I know this. Forgive me for not praising you for who you are and what you do. I can never praise you enough. But I am learning. Amen.