Monday, September 28, 2026
The Beginning of Wisdom
Monday, September 21, 2026
What Are We Doing Here?
“And the word of the Lord came to him: ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’” (1 Kings 19:9)
There is a lot of noise in the world. People shout. People bloviate. People rage. People predict catastrophe. People compete to see who can be the loudest, angriest, most offended, or most afraid. Sometimes it feels a little like Shakespeare’s famous description: “full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
Elijah knew something about noise. He had just experienced one of the greatest victories of his ministry on Mount Carmel. But after Jezebel threatened his life, Elijah ran. Eventually, he found himself hiding in a cave, convinced that everything had fallen apart. And God asked him a remarkable question:
“What are you doing here, Elijah?”
Elijah responded with what sounds suspiciously like “poor pitiful me.” I have been faithful. Everybody else has abandoned You. I’m the only one left. And now they’re trying to kill me.
There was truth in Elijah’s complaint. He really had been faithful. There really were people who wanted him dead. But Elijah had allowed his circumstances to distort his perspective. So God gave him a lesson.
There was a mighty wind, but the Lord was not in the wind. There was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. There was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. Then came a gentle whisper.
Maybe that is something we desperately need to remember. The Lord isn't necessarily in the loudness.
God isn't obligated to participate in the cultural shouting, bloviating, rumbling, and burning that surrounds us. Volume is not the same thing as truth, and outrage is not the same thing as righteousness. But God also isn't found in our carefully constructed “poor pitiful me” narratives. Sometimes we use our wounds, disappointments, and difficulties to convince ourselves, and perhaps others, that we deserve special treatment. Elijah's circumstances were difficult, but God would not allow Elijah's difficulties to become his identity.
And God wasn't fooled by the cave. Elijah could hide from Jezebel. He couldn't hide from God. And neither can we.
We can hide in fear. We can hide in busyness. We can hide in anger. We can hide in disappointment. We can even hide behind legitimate wounds. But eventually God's question finds us: “What are you doing here?”
Then comes the whisper. You are not a victim. You are not alone. You are not without community. And you are certainly not without God. Elijah thought he was the last one standing. God told him there were 7,000 others who had not bowed to Baal.
Elijah thought his ministry was finished. God essentially said, “Get up. Go back. I still have work for you to do.” There were people Elijah hadn't met yet. There was an Elisha waiting to join him. There was a community Elijah couldn't see. And there was a God who had never left him.
Maybe God's question isn't really about Elijah's location. Maybe it is about Elijah's calling. “What are you doing here?”
Monday, September 14, 2026
Who Is In Your Boat?
Who Is In Your Boat? In 1st Kings 4, the leadership team of Solomon is identified. I won't go into all of the names there, but 2 stand out. They stand out because they represent great failures that rip the entire country apart. Who is in your boat?
The first failure was overseen by Adoniram, perhaps not a betrayer, but part of Israel's failure. He was “over the forced labor” (1 Kings 4:6). There is no indication that Adoniram personally betrayed Solomon. In fact, he seems to have remained loyal to the Davidic administration through David, Solomon, and into Rehoboam's reign. The problem was what his office represented. Solomon's enormous building program increasingly depended upon taxation and compulsory labor. By the time Rehoboam succeeded Solomon, the northern tribes complained: “Your father put a heavy yoke on us, but now lighten the harsh labor and the heavy yoke he put on us…” 1 Kings 12:4. Rehoboam refuses their request and the northern tribes revolt, so Rehoboam sends Adoniram—the man in charge of forced labor—to them. The Israelites stoned Adoniram to death (1 Kings 12:18). His office had apparently become so closely associated with the burdens imposed by the monarchy that sending him into the rebellion was disastrous. The Kingdom becomes divided.
The second failure was Solomon himself. He allowed and fueled the oppression of his people. He tolerated practices that overly burdened the people, all for an ornate palace, and his vision of the building of the Temple. Solomon was caught up in extravagance, building what would make him look powerful and strong, and narcissistic behavior. He was all about himself. Solomon failed to spend time with God, seek His will, and follow His plan.
So, the question is a good one. Who is in your boat?
Who is in the boat when God brings the beauty of the miraculous catch of fish? Who is in the boat when Jesus calls the disciples to go out together to a quiet place? In this time of church meetings, as we prepare for the annual Charge Conference, who is in the boat? THAT question is vitally important!
In the CREO retreat in Kentucky, we saw a small piece of art. It was a boat painted on a paper bag ... a representation of the journey all of the CREO team and grantees share. That treasured piece of art had beauty beyond the artistry that created it. The boat told the story of mission, team, purpose, and a great shared journey, larger than anyone in the boat.
There was an interesting detail about that little boat. It had no rudder. It was powered forward by the ruach/pneuma of God's Holy Spirit. The little boat welcomed all who shared the dream of a life following God to His perfect destination.
Solomon chose his team based on connecting to the powerful, co-opting "yes men," and political expediency. We must chose and become a team that shares mission, shares the beauty and discomfort of the boat, submits to the wind of the Spirit, and embraces "the beauty of the Lord our God who establishes the work of our hands."
So ... what is your choice? Are you in the boat, or standing safely on the shore ... a spectator or a fan, a willing/working team member? You are welcome, wanted ... but are you willing? I pray the answer is, YES!
Monday, September 7, 2026
Couldn't Resist!
The end of 2 Samuel, and the beginning of 1 Kings are beautiful expressions of God's faithfulness and David's thankfulness, as the king closes out his life with God. At the beginning of 1 Kings, David will "go the way of all the earth." These last few chapters express David's love for God and his appreciation that God has been with him through all of his victories, all of his failures, and all of his time as king of Israel. I want to stop on 2 passages here.
The first stopping place is something I couldn't resist (it's a song). It is David's song to God (2 Samuel 22), expressed both here and in Psalm 18. David says what all believers should be able to say if we realistically recounted our days of life. David called, God heard; David was threatened, God delivered; David was weak, God strengthened; David wandered through sin and uncertainty, but God remained faithful. Both passages therefore become more than songs of victory—they are the testimony of an aging servant looking backward and recognizing that, through every season, “the way of the LORD is perfect” and “the word of the LORD is flawless” (2 Sam. 22:31; Ps. 18:30). The Lord truly liveth, and blessed be the rock of our salvation!
The second stopping place is an application of the song and the Psalm above. David is building an altar to God. He buys a piece of property from Araunah (by the way, this property will eventually become Solomon's Temple). The prophet Gad instructed David (from God's direction) to buy this site. Araunah told David he could have this property and the oxen for the burnt offering, free of charge. David responded, "I will not give to the Lord my God a burnt offering that costs me nothing (2 Samuel 24:24)." David didn't just remember God's blessings and faithfulness ... he responded in appreciation and thankfulness.
What can we learn from these two stories? Maybe this:
1. God's presence with us through all of life is worthy of our praise, of our song, of our thanks, and of our last breath. Even then, God is good "all the time."
2. James tells us, "faith without works is dead (James 2:26). David demonstrates something the modern church needs to learn and apply ... praise without response is dead. David's song of praise is made a living stone (an altar and a temple are built on this site) because David doesn't just sing ... he acts.
May we go and do likewise! Praise with practice is alive!