On November 21, 1915, the hope of Sir Ernest Shackleton and his twenty-seven crew members sank, along with their ship Endurance, into the dark below the Antarctic ice. They were stranded, thousands of miles from home. Later, the crew shared several things that aided their survival, including a banjo. Embarking on their brutal trek, Leonard Hussey (the expedition’s meteorologist) was the only person allowed more than two pounds of personal gear. He was allowed to bring his twelve-pound Windsor banjo. “It’s vital mental medicine,” Shackleton told Hussey, “and we shall need it.” The crew’s journals explained the power of Hussey’s music. “The banjo does . . . supply brain food,” wrote one sailor. Another reflected on “Hussey’s indispensable banjo.”
The Bible presents music as one of God’s immense gifts, a way His healing and comfort enter the human heart. In the tragic story of King Saul, we hear how (due to his disobedience) he was oppressed by an “evil spirit” (1 Samuel 16:14). And what did Saul’s attendants believe the king needed to provide relief? Music. So, they found young David with his harp. “David would take up his lyre and play. Then relief would come to Saul; he would feel better, and the evil spirit would leave him” (v. 23).
Music offers more than mere entertainment. It can bring joy, renew hope, and comfort weary souls. It’s truly one of God’s powerful gifts.
In 1849, Henry “Box” Brown (a US enslaved man from Virginia) folded himself into a wooden crate marked “dry goods,” and two friends shipped him from Richmond to Philadelphia. Brown was inside the box (3 x 2.5 x 2 feet) for the 26-hour trip, with three small holes cut for air. As abolitionists pulled Brown from the box, he sang a paraphrase of Psalm 40, expressing his hope in the God who promises freedom. “If you have never been deprived of your liberty, as I was,” Brown later wrote, “you cannot realize the power of that hope of freedom, which was to me indeed, an anchor to the soul, both sure and steadfast.”
Freedom is central to how God operates in our hearts and in our world. His wisdom leads to spiritual freedom, but false wisdom leads to oppression. “Where the Spirit of the Lord is,” Paul says, “there is freedom” from sin, death, and condemnation (2 Corinthians 3:17). When we listen to God and follow His ways, freedom results. Unfortunately, the opposite is also true: when we ignore Him and resist His invitations, we become ensnared and confined. God liberates and transforms us by His Spirit (v. 18), but sin and rebellion traps us.
We sometimes believe that God limits and obstructs our possibilities and pleasure. But in truth, He’s the only one who can lead us into an expansive future, the only one who can guide us into genuine freedom.
As the Taliban swiftly overran the Afghanistan government in 2021, and tens of thousands were trapped with no way to escape, many were isolated and desperate. Ordinary citizens jumped to action, including one young man who launched an Instagram campaign, raising $7 million to pay for chartered evacuation flights. “We’ve shed the political divisions in this situation,” he told a news outlet, “and really come together from all walks of life to rally together and save these people.” They chose to jump into the fray.
It’s not just Afghanistan. From skyscrapers to villages around the world, so many people are alone—enduring crushing sorrows. It’s stunning, however, to see God’s attention turned toward these places of suffering and hopelessness. Somehow, ultimately, in His own way and time, He will “deliver the needy who cry out, the afflicted who have no one to help” (72:12). And remarkably, one way God’s help arrives is through us. Psalm 72 refers to both King Solomon’s work and God’s work—and it’s not always easy to disentangle which is which. God is the rescuer, but He calls us to move with Him.
When we encounter injustice or suffering, we can join Him, moving right into the middle of the ruin. We can follow God and go into the places where no one else is there to help.
An auditorium full of medical students at Albert Einstein College of Medicine listened intently as ninety-year-old Ruth Gottesman spoke. As she concluded, Ruth announced—to the students’ gasps, cheers, and pandemonium—that she was donating $1 billion so that they could finish their education tuition free. This is the largest donation ever given to a medical school. Yet in the interviews that followed, you would have thought that Gottesman was the one receiving the gift. She expressed joy, delight, and honor to be able to give her money away.
Proverbs tells us that this is how generosity works. The one who “gives freely,” far from being left diminished or bereft, finds blessings they hadn’t anticipated (11:24). When we freely open our hands to others, we’re somehow left with something more—not less. “Whoever refreshes,” Scripture says, “will be refreshed” (v. 25). We’re tempted to tightly grip whatever we have, fearful that we’ll be taken advantage of or left with nothing. God’s economy works differently, however. Jesus went a step further, stating that it’s “more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35).
We can be generous with our lives and our resources, offering what we have to others in need. And then, in return we’ll find that we end up receiving too. There’s plenty for everyone in God’s kingdom.
John Taylor was a British eye surgeon in the 1700s who, driven by arrogance, fabricated a prestigious reputation. He pursued celebrities and became the personal eye doctor for King George II. Taylor traveled the country performing medical shows that promised miracle cures, often escaping towns under the cover of night carrying bags overflowing with villagers’ cash. However, he was eventually proven to be a charlatan. Records suggest Taylor likely blinded hundreds of patients. History remembers him not as a medical luminary but as the man who destroyed the eyesight of two of the century’s greatest composers: Bach and Händel.
Taylor craved reputation and acclaim, but his epitaph declares his lies, and the embarrassment and hurt he caused. Proverbs explains how egotistical addictions lead to devastation. “Before a downfall,” we read, “the heart is haughty” (18:12). Taylor’s disgrace warns us of how arrogance can ruin our lives, but one’s foolishness often harms others too (vv. 6-7). The “downfall” is great indeed.
While a proud heart destroys us and others, a humble heart leads toward a life of meaning and joy. “Humility comes before honor,” the proverb says (v. 12). If we selfishly pursue only self-interests (v. 1), we’ll never find what we crave. If we yield our heart to God and serve others, however, we honor Him and reflect His goodness.
On December 9, 1987, a squirrel chewed through a power line in Connecticut, and the NASDAQ’s vast financial machinery blinked, sighed, and went dark. Some of the world's largest corporations stood limp and listless. Global economies watched, sweating bullets for nearly an hour and a half. All because of one tenacious, furry rodent.
Scripture tells many stories of something or someone small making a big impact. But God can turn meagerness into something mighty. John recounts how Jesus fed a hungry crowd (five thousand men, probably fifteen thousand with women and children included) when “a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish” handed over his small lunch (John 6:9). In the Old Testament we remember that a young shepherd boy named David trusted God and slayed a giant (1 Samuel 17). And Christ repeatedly insisted that the kingdom of God is something like a mustard seed, “the smallest of all seeds” (Matthew 13:32).
When we ponder the many complex global crises in addition to the bewildering concerns in our own neighborhoods and families, we’re tempted to believe that our seemingly small efforts lack power. But Scripture tells us to act in obedience and trust as God helps us—assured that with Him, small things can become mighty (John 6:10-12).
In the late nineteenth century, few people had access to the great sequoia groves in the US, and many didn’t believe the reports of the massive trees. In 1892, however, four lumberjacks ventured into the Big Stump Forest in California and spent thirteen days felling the grand tree named Mark Twain. Twain was 1,341 years old, three hundred feet tall, and fifty feet in circumference. One observer described Twain as a tree “of magnificent proportions, one of the most perfect trees in the grove.” They shipped part of this remarkable beauty, now destroyed, to the American Museum of Natural History where everyone could see a sequoia.
The reality, though, is that we can’t prove every truth with our eyes alone. Hebrews describes faith as “confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1). Faith isn’t irrational or a fit of fancy, because the whole story is grounded in a person—Jesus—who has entered human history. Faith includes human senses and reason, but it’s not limited to them. Faith requires more. “By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command,” Hebrews says, “so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible” (v. 3).
It’s often difficult to trust what we can’t touch or see or completely comprehend. But our faith in Christ, made possible by the Spirit, helps us to believe more than we can see.
When a country erupted in civil war, authorities conscripted a man into military service. However, he objected. “I don’t want any part in destroying [my country].” So he left it. Because he didn’t have proper visas, however, he eventually found himself stuck in another country’s airport. For months, airport employees gave the man food and thousands followed his tweets as he roamed terminals, knitted scarves, and clung to hope. Hearing of his perpetual plight, a community in Canada, raised money, and found him a job and a house.
Lamentations presents the cry of Jeremiah who waited for God and the end of His discipline for the sins of his people. The prophet remained confident in an everlasting God who he knew could be trusted. “The Lord is good to those who hope in him” (3:25). God’s people can experience hope even when troubles overwhelm and relief seems impossible. Though they might need to “[bury their] face in the dust” and humbly accept God’s discipline, they can cling to the reality that “there may yet be hope” (v. 29). However desperate the situation, those who know God can experience a hope that flows from Him. “It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord” (v. 26).
Without answers or any clear way of escape, we wait for God to help us. We wait, with hope, for the God who’s proven Himself faithful over and over again.
The tugboat sank twenty miles off the coast of Nigeria, turning upside down as it fell to the sea floor. Eleven crew members drowned, but the ship’s cook Harrison Odjegba Okene found an air pocket and waited. He only had one bottle of Coke for provisions, and both of his flashlights died within the first twenty-four hours. For three terrifying days, Okene was trapped alone in darkness at the bottom of the ocean. He’d begun to give up hope when divers on a mission to recover dead bodies found him hunkered and shivering deep in the hull.
The image of Okene alone in the dark for sixty hours is unnerving. He told reporters he still suffers nightmares from the horrifying ordeal. But can you imagine what he felt when he saw the diver’s powerful lamp piercing the darkness? What joy and elation, what hope. The prophet Isaiah foretold how, when the Messiah came, all “the people walking in darkness” would see “a great light” (9:2). Left to our own devices, we live “in the land of deep darkness,” but in Jesus, “a light has dawned” (v. 2).
Christ is “the light of the world,” and In Him we need never again fear the darkness for we “have the light of life” (John 8:12). We may feel trapped or hopeless, alone or in despair, but God illuminates good news. Jesus carries us out of the dark and into His marvelous light.
