Laying Down the Timer
What are we measuring our lives by?
The disciples were sizing up the temple stones and wanted to know the date of the end. But Jesus gave them no date. He said, “The end is not yet,” and told them to live today.
We measure grades and targets, bank balances and time left. When a video saying “the time has come” lands in the group chat, we start the timer again. The more we measure, the bigger our anxiety grows and the smaller today becomes.
This week, when a fear-stirring video arrives, pause before forwarding it, and send a word of kindness to one person in that chat first.
I am not someone who keeps the date; I am someone entrusted with today. The Father knows that day, and he has given today to me.
Father, you know how anxious I become when I cannot measure. Help me to see today rather than the date, and people rather than numbers. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
Reaching Out a Hand
What are our hands giving away?
In the last days, people hand believers over, and even within the church they hand one another over. Yet with the very same word, God gave up his Son for us (Rom 8:32).
Our hands also hand others over so easily. We pass on hurtful words and point fingers at those who fail. Where love grows cold, our hands are the first to turn cold.
This week, choose one person from church or one neighbour, and give them love they can hold: a warm word, or a container of home-cooked food.
I will never be handed over. The love that gave up the Son holds me, so now my hands can give love away.
Father, I remember the love that did not spare your own Son. Turn my hands that hand others over into hands that reach out. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
Leaving the Light On
Is there a light left on in my everyday life?
In the days of Noah, people ate, drank and married, yet never realised what was coming (24:38–39). Ordinary life was not the problem; ordinary life without waiting was. The blessed servant is the one found doing his work when the master returns (24:46).
When we think about the end, we either feel we must go somewhere special or switch the thought off altogether. Caught between the two, our table, our work and our place of worship easily fade.
On one day this week, at the dinner table or before bed, take one minute to say, alone or with your family, “Lord, today we are still waiting for you.”
I am not someone who leaves ordinary life behind, but someone who keeps love alive within it. And before that, I am someone kept by that love.
Lord, keep a light of waiting burning in my ordinary days. In a world where love is growing cold, hold me so that my light does not go out. In Jesus’ name. Amen.