Our Daily Bread

When challenged to speak to others about Christ, some believers excuse their silence by saying, “Well, I am not a preacher.” But every follower of Jesus is (or at least should be) a preacher. We don’t need a pulpit. It can be done in friendly conversation, by handing out a tract or portion of Scripture, by writing a letter, or by singing a song.

How good are you at making enemies? No, I didn’t ask how good you are at making friends. That’s easy. Just be a good Joe, an easy spender, a tolerant sort of fellow who never offends anybody.

God often accomplishes great and powerful things through a few weak people. In that way He is glorified and we are humbled. The victories won can only be credited to His power and guidance.

This article is for folks old enough to be retired. But if you consider yourself young, keep on reading anyway, for you’re headed for the “golden years.”

I don’t know whether I’m going through a second childhood or what, but lately I’ve been craving a box of Cracker Jack. Do you know what I’m talking about —the candy-covered popcorn and peanuts in a box with young Sailor Jack on the label? I remember the slogan: “The more you eat, the more you want!”

Hebrews 5 was addressed to believers who should have been mature enough to teach others, but they were still babes in Christ. They were like nursing infants, lacking spiritual fruit and in danger of severe discipline from the Lord. They were urged to put away childish things and to grow up.

Many people seem to think that it’s wrong to say we know we are bound for heaven. But the Bible tells us we can be sure.

One fall my grandsons gathered cocoons they found in a swamp. The boys hung the dry, unattractive, and motionless objects in a cool place for the winter. The following spring they moved the cocoons to a place in the warm sun. Soon there emerged from the tomb of one cocoon a gorgeous creature —a luna moth, gracefully unfolding its drying wings in readiness to take its flight into the sky. Its colors were indescribable, and it was unspeakably graceful in its unhurried stretching and folding of its delicate wings.

Many years ago I was scheduled to speak at a Bible conference in Pennsylvania. A few days before it was to begin, a member of the conference committee telephoned my office. Someone in Pennsylvania had received a newspaper clipping from a Michigan paper reporting my death. The news had spread all over the area, and the conference representative wanted to verify the report so he could get another speaker in my place. The reason for all the confusion was the death of someone else with the same last name. Some people had jumped to the conclusion that the report was about me.

Jesus died so we could live. His death on Calvary’s cross was not an accident or a surprise to God. It was an absolute necessity in His plan for our salvation.