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‘The Star Thrower’ and the Difference You Can Make

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The Gift of Memory

Posted on by Brian Doyle

But the… Holy Ghost… he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance… —John 14:26 (KJV)

I was just thinking that everything that ever happened to me abideth in me somewhere, most of the time misfiled and misplaced in the most careless fashion. I mean, who was in charge of organization here, a newborn chipmunk? But inchoate and incoherent as it is in my memory, every wild, savory, painful, epic moment is there.

Here comes our daughter sliding out of the sea of her mother, followed seemingly moments later by her twin brothers. Here is my grandmother shrinking noticeably every day until she is a small dry stick and then a song we sing in Gaelic every year.

Here is my oldest brother, a mountain of a man, and here he is during his last summer, half of what he was, but still grinning and making wry remarks as his voice failed and then the rest of him. Here is my mother riffling my crew cut and, fifty years later, here I am rubbing her shoulders, which are sore after a long day on the walker. Here are all my sins, squirming and sneering, though I have tried mightily to forget them and be shriven of them.

Everything that ever happened to you is inside of you, and a scent or a snippet of song or a voice in the distance or a sudden sparrow unlocks the door, and there you are, age five or fifty, weeping and giggling, inundated by miracles, admitting you have been a fool, delighted that sometimes you weren’t. We forget nothing; we just forget the compartment number and the lock combination. Isn’t this miraculous?

Lord, we hardly ever say thanks for the incredible moist computers on our shoulders, a million times cooler than any shiny machine that could ever be invented, for our wet machinery can handle love and joy and prayer and emotion and faith.

Editor’s Note: Sadly, beloved Daily Guideposts contributor Brian Doyle passed away on May 27, 2017. We are forever grateful for the many gifts he shared with us. 

The Extraordinary Experience of Hearing God’s Voice

Posted on by Brian Doyle

And the Lord . . . said, Write the vision, and make it plain. . . . — Habakkuk 2:2 (KJV)

I did hear a Voice once. I was in despair. It was the nether reaches of the night. No one is up at that hour for any good reason. I was up because I was terrified and broken and helpless and lost. The bedroom door was closed and the windows were closed and everyone else was asleep in their rooms, but a Voice spoke to me.

It was so clear and crisp that I looked out the window to see if someone was there. I am a little uncomfortable sharing the exact words, so I will paraphrase.

The Voice told me to lose the urge to edit and control and repair and fix and understand what was happening in the house. The Voice was gentle and calm but firm about this. It brooked no argument, so I did not argue. I listened long for more, but there was no more. It was enough.

Something loosed in me, and I surrendered to whatever was going to be. I came to realize slowly that all I could do was be patient and gentle and open, and so that is what I tried to be over the next two years as things went the way they went.

I know this sounds mysterious and mystical, but it wasn’t. It was stunning and real and frightening, and it might well have saved my family from shattering. It doesn’t make sense, so I’ll just tell you that a Voice spoke to me and I heard it and I suspect you know what I mean.

Dear Lord, as You know very well indeed, there are more things beyond our ken than we will ever know. But because we cannot explain them does not mean that they are not so and not gifts of extraordinary, immeasurable grace. Thank You.

Digging Deeper: 1 John 4:1

READ MORE: WHEN, WHERE AND HOW WE HEAR GOD’S VOICE

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The Brief History of the Word ‘Hallelujah’

Posted on by Thomas Kelly

Hallelujah! The word exists in virtually every modern language. It’s a word that means whatever the user intends … something to shout when leaving the office on Friday afternoon, or when your candidate gets elected, or when your child makes it into college. My wife once owned a pony named Glory Hallelujah—an ill-tempered little beast. In its original Hebrew, however, the word had only one meaning. It was a refrain at the end of many psalms. Hallel, “praise,” Yahweh, “God.”

With Christianity, hallelujah traveled west and has been an expression of gratitude to God ever since, especially during the Easter season. In the Middle Ages the word was scrupulously not used during Lent, the 40 days of penance before Easter. In acknowledgment of human sin, it seemed appropriate to put aside the beloved shout of joy until the Resurrection of Easter Day. And so in monasteries across Europe there arose a custom of saying good-bye to the hallelujah.

On the last Sunday before Lent, Christians would chant the word over and over while they could still do so. The chants contained no other words, just Hallelujah! Hallelujah! in a hundred musical settings. At the end of the service, a piece of parchment on which hallelujah was inscribed was buried in the ground, to remain there until it was reclaimed on Easter Sunday.

Some of these farewell hymns survive to this day. The great hymn writer John Mason Neale translated one of them:

     Alleluia, song of gladness,
     voice of joy that cannot die.
     Alleluia is the anthem
     ever dear to choirs on high …

Dear to choirs on high, but dear to composers on earth too. Hallelujah! Its sound is so singable: all those vowels and lovely liquid l’s and y’s. No grammar to worry about, just a simple, complete, beautiful thought… Praise God! Composers of every age have taken that sound and made it their own, from the “Hallelujah Chorus” of Handel’s Messiah to Leonard Bernstein’s “Alleluia” for Candide.

I’m confident that Hallelujah! will be chanted forever, to the instruments and harmonies of the future, by people singing, as men and women have done for thousands of years, in the “voice of joy that cannot die.”

For more angelic stories, subscribe to Angels on Earth magazine.

See God in Every Moment

Posted on by Bill Giovannetti

They see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep. Psalm 107:24 (NKJV)

It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so our family took the leap: a trip to Hawaii! As we settled into our friend’s Oahu townhouse, I noticed the stress fade from my wife’s face.

The kids played in the yard, and we packed for the beach. A short drive, perfect sand, crystal-blue waters, refreshing trade winds, the scent of plumeria, and a happy family–days melted into each other and added up to heaven. Too bad we don’t live here, I thought.

Our trip then brought us to Maui. We embraced our inner tourists and visited a pineapple plantation, shared a luau, and even rode a submarine. We saw the teeming life on a coral reef thirty feet beneath the surface. I wish I could see this every day, I thought.

That afternoon, my daughter and I rented snorkeling gear and headed toward the beach. We had only two days left and hadn’t yet tried snorkeling. Our condo sat beside a coral reef, filled with beauties beyond compare: fish every color of the rainbow, large and small; urchins; anemones; and spectacular creatures whose names I didn’t know. Too bad we put off snorkeling till the end of our trip, I thought.

But later I embraced a simple truth: From my wife’s smile to my kids’ laughter to my dogs’ wiggling welcome–wherever life brought me, I just had to open my eyes to the wonders of God right outside my door.

Gracious God, grant me wisdom to feel more deeply Your ever-present joy in everyday life.

Make a Positive Difference with Your Gifts

Posted on by Jeanette Levellie

For as we have many members in one body, but all the members do not have the same function. Romans 12:4 (NKJV)

I sometimes compare myself with friends in an unfavorable light. I wish I had the talent to knit like Marie does. Why don’t I enjoy cleaning as much as Betty? If I’m not careful, I may covet someone else’s talents.

And then I consider heroes who inspire me, but I’m not jealous of them: humanitarian Mother Teresa, author and speaker Helen Keller, and civil rights leader Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King Jr., a minister who used his gifts of leadership and speech to lift up the downtrodden.

Dr. King received his bachelor’s degree in sociology at age nineteen and his doctorate at age twenty-six. He could’ve chosen a prestigious career. Instead, he followed God’s call to engage the powerful weapons of prayer, words of reconciliation, and peaceful demonstrations. King brought light into the darkness for millions. He changed the world.

I may never implement the changes made by Dr. King. Yet Jesus calls me to make a positive difference with the gifts He’s given me. I can use my talent of communication to help change a heart from despair to hope. I can employ my flair for humor to help a timid person feel at ease.

Dr. King said it best himself: “Everybody can be great . . . because anybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.”

Like Dr. King, all of us have been given the opportunity to serve in our own unique ways—ways that will change the world.

Faith Step: Ask Jesus to help you utilize your special gifts to make a positive difference in someone’s life and the world.

Daily Devotion: Welcome Spring!

Posted on by Rick Hamlin

For, Lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.—Song of Solomon 2:11

I spotted my bus turning the corner a couple of blocks away and I raced to catch it, darting through pedestrians, crossing the street against a flashing DON’T WALK sign, nearly running into a car. I could have gotten hit, I suppose, but all I was thinking was I have to get that bus!

On Sunday afternoon buses don’t come that often. And what would I do if I had to wait 15 minutes for another one?

Despite my athletic prowess I still missed it. Now there was nothing to do but walk. In a huff I began my hike through the park, taking big strides on the path that wound under the pine trees.

It was early spring, the sky gray but the grass lime green, daffodils pushing up under the trees. A Little League team had gathered in a pine grove to practice. The wobbly tosses and swings proved it was early in the season. A kid raced past me on his bicycle, and a golden retriever scurried after a squirrel.

I slowed my step. The smell of the damp earth, the sight of the buds, the sound of the whacked ball gave me a feeling of gladness. Winter was done. Spring was here. And to think, if I hadn’t missed my bus, I would have missed it.

God, I love spring!

Daily Devotion: Log in to God

Posted on by Jeff Chu

Blessed is the man who listens to me, watching daily at my gates, waiting at the posts of my doors. —Proverbs 8:34

Thanks to my work as a journalist, I’ve logged hundreds of miles on America’s roads in recent months. I’ve driven across century-old wooden covered bridges in Vermont, gazed at white-laced mountains in Colorado, and skirted fields abundant with amber waves of grain in Iowa. Months after I visited Cape Cod in Massachusetts, I’m still finding grains of sand in my car.

One of my favorite parts of the landscape is the church sign. Some stick to the basics; I’ve seen lots that say, “God Loves You!” Many cite Scripture; John 3:16 is popular everywhere. The best ones are both witty and provocative. When I drove past Victory Rock Church in Warsaw, Indiana, theirs read: “Your Sanctuary? The Local Church or the Town Bar?”

The most memorable I’ve seen was at Greenwood Baptist Church in Valdosta, Georgia, which decided to tackle a modern addiction: social media. The sign declared, “Get Off of Facebook and into My Book.”

Now, I have something of a Facebook habit. The website has quickly become a modern-day meeting place where I can reconnect with people from various stages of my life. In many ways, it’s a terrific thing—a twenty-first-century way of cultivating community.

But am I investing a commensurate amount of time in my relationship with God? I can spend hours looking at photos from someone else’s family reunion or Facebook messages, but how much time am I spending with a more time-honored message—the one God gives through Scripture? Yes, the sign is a vital reminder for an online junkie like me: I ought to log in where it really matters.

God, I know You’re there, waiting to hear from me. Help me to think of You—not updating my Facebook status—first.

Download your FREE ebook, Daily Devotionals: 7 Days of Bible Devotions to Strengthen Your Faith.

Daily Devotion: Live in Joy

Posted on by Jon Sweeney

Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? Matthew 6:26

St. Francis of Assisi is known most of all for preaching to the birds, but he also inspired Christians to live differently. The other day, I followed a key Franciscan principle, straight from the Gospel: Live less for security and more in joy and anticipation of what God can do in your life.

I live in Vermont, and for twelve years I’ve driven sturdy, reliable cars for the sake of their longevity and their ability to plow through snowdrifts. I’d driven my latest car as far as it would go—nearly two hundred thousand miles—and it was dying fast.

To replace it, I bought a used Mini Cooper. This zippier, tinier, fuel efficient car required me to let go of some of my old worries: Will I get as much use out of this car? Will I end up snowed-in next winter? I had to accept the fact that I can’t ultimately answer those questions. Instead, I bought my car because it would bring me joy.

I realize this is a very little thing in the big picture of life. But St. Francis always told his friars, when they planted the annual vegetable garden, to be sure to leave a portion of the soil for planting flowers. Flowers had no practical value; they gave the friars no security against the winter months; but Francis called them his “sisters” and he loved to look at their beautiful colors.

When you make decisions that bring joy to yourself and others, you can see that Jesus knew what He was talking about when He told us to be more like the birds of the air.

Teach me anew, Lord, to live a resurrected life. I’m ready and willing to live in joy.

Daily Devotionals

Posted on by Drue Duke

“I will praise the name of God with a song, and will magnify him with thanksgiving.”—Psalms 69:30

I slid into the front seat of my friend’s car and almost knocked a little book to the floor. As I grabbed for it, I saw it was a Bible.

“I use that while I’m waiting at a train crossing,” she said. “I used to sit and fume as those freight cars clicked past. Then I realized I could make that part of my day’s worship time. Try it,” she said. “You’ll be surprised at how rewarding it is.”

I did try it, and it is rewarding. So rewarding that it became a real challenge to find different opportunities during the day for my mini-devotional periods. While I wash dishes, run the vacuum cleaner, garden—all of these are great times to recite or memorize scripture verses, singing hymns or lifting up thankful thoughts to our Father.

And how good it is, when sleep comes, to realize how much time I’ve spent with Him that day!

A World of Miracles

Posted on by Brian Doyle

You are the God who performs miracles. Psalm 77:14 (NIV)

In the last few years I have been graced by a correspondence with a man who is in prison until the day he dies. “I deserve to be here,” he says, “and all I ask is the chance after I die to apologize to God face to face for wasting His gifts. But maybe I would never have seen those gifts so clear if I wasn’t here.”

I go back through his letters, noting all the things he has written, painstakingly, in blue ink on loose-leaf paper, about gifts that are new every morning.

“Good old rain. Crawdads, woodpeckers, church choirs. The way people line up for things like buses and voting and never jostle. Dragonflies over ponds. Sandwiches made by someone who likes you. Good old towels. Toast with jam not from a factory. Toasters. Fried trout in butter. Teachers. Mud with a point to it, like in gardens and farms. Animals. Big birds that are not scared of you, like hawks. Jars on shelves. Berries on bushes. People talking to you who don’t want anything from you. Folks making music with real instruments somewhere close, but you can’t see them, only hear them faintly. That’s a great sound, that is.

“I used to think that the thing I missed the most was pets. I sure wanted a dog around; dogs are just the best. But now the thing I miss the most is kids around. I’ll just never have kids around underfoot, laughing and yelling and arguing and falling asleep in half a second right wherever they landed last. If ever I do get to see God face to face and can ask one favor, I’d ask for kids around again. That’s what heaven is, seems to me.”

Dear Lord, there are no little things, are there? I mean, You know that, but we forget. Nothing’s little. Everything’s huge and holy and so stuffed with miracle, the miracles leak out, laughing. Thanks. And, Lord, hey, a little favor? Can You salt our awful jails with a little extra hope today?

A Solution for Holiday Stress

Posted on by Rick Hamlin

Give generously to them and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to. Deuteronomy 15:10 (NIV)

Three days before Christmas I’m feeling frantic, quite sure I’m never going to get done all the things that need doing. That present to my goddaughter that has to be mailed; those stocking stuffers I promised to buy; the Christmas cards that still need to be sent; the “Merry Christmas” e-mails I wanted to write; the present for my wife I have to pick up; the music I brought home from choir rehearsal that I must study before Christmas Eve—when will I get to it?

Then I remember this program at church where we volunteer to give Christmas to a family that’s going through hard times. I haven’t gotten those kids presents yet. When am I going to do that?

Just one more thing! I dash out at lunch, pop my goddaughter’s present in the mail, buy some gloves from a street vendor for stocking stuffers, duck into another store for Carol, and finally make it to the toy store. Now, what would a four-year-old, six-year-old, and eight-year-old boy like? Standing in the aisle of cars and trucks, I still feel frantic, but I’m happy-frantic instead of worried-frantic.

Christmas Eve, I’m amazed at how many presents are under the tree. In choir, the piece that had seemed impossible comes together miraculously. Before the service I check my e-mail to see a message from my goddaughter’s mother: “Package just arrived.” Another miracle. How did the post office do it? How did the choir do it? How did any of us do it?

Then I remember: we did it with love. That was the fuel. That’s where we got the energy. Love and joy and happiness. A miracle good enough to last all year long.

I can do all good things with the energy of Your love, Lord.

A Devotion for Overcoming Anxiety

Posted on by Rick Hamlin

Cast your burden on the Lord—he will support you! God will never let the righteous be shaken! —Psalm 55:22 (CEB)

I have a way of keeping anxiety as a close companion, not willing to let it go. I invite it in for just a moment and then give it the run of the house. A worry floats into my head, and instead of batting it away or even putting it into God’s capable hands, I build it up, feed it tidbits of more worry, and soon the worries have multiplied, putting me in a stranglehold.

The other day I was feeding anxiety with more anxiety, trapping myself in a prison of my own making. Then I recalled something my son, Tim, in his senior year of high school said to my wife, Carol. It was a Sunday night, and he had a project he needed to get done, deadline looming, and his mother asked one time too many about its progress.

“Mom,” Tim said, “your anxiety is not making me get it done any faster.”

Ah, the unexpected wisdom of a teenager, puncturing the allure of anxiety. How often since I’ve used those words to myself. Rick, your anxiety is not helping you get things done. Then I ask the worry to leave, kick it out, send it packing, slam the door, and wish it a fond farewell. After all, how much good does my anxiety do? “Here, God,” I can say, “take this worry. I’ve had enough of it.” It’s gone.

Dear Lord, I gladly pass along today’s worries. I suspect I’ll have more for You tomorrow. —Rick Hamlin

Digging Deeper: Proverbs 3:5–6; Matthew 11:28