06 Mar 2026
Being grateful while trusting God with our lives and every situation will help us experience peace in this life. This will help us avoid unnecessary stress. But it also requires us to walk in tandem with the Lord. Philippians 4:4-9.
The Vast Sky Was My Teacher
The vast needs that spread wide before us? They are already in His hands. I lay back on to the concrete and stretched my arms wide out the side. Houston’s night air became shockingly fickle at times, and the darkness lent an edge to the air. Cicadas’ throaty songs of the day had lulled into an abrupt hush with the arrival of darkness. My fingers spread wide against the sand-papery driveway, drinking in the warmth still radiating from the day’s unrelenting sun. Strategically only inches from my hand was a frosty cup of “orange julious,” as Mom called it. Fresh squeezed orange juice mixed with French vanilla ice cream- the kind that had that fancy speckling through it. Beads of condensation gathered and skittered down the cup, creating a wet halo around the base of the glass. I’d sit up, take a deep swig, slowly saving the flavors on my tongue and settle back down on the driveway and loose myself in the vast canvas above. I was not alone, all around me on the shadowy driveway were the dark forms of my siblings, and my parents too sometimes. It may have looked like a family massacre, bodies strewn outstretched like this, but we didn’t care. Star gazing was our right. These evenings on the driveway were a favorite of mine. I’d feel my body relax into the concrete’s warm embrace, and my eyes would peer into the vast night sky. I’m sure having been to NASA’s museum and peered through a phenomenal telescope fed my curiosity of the mysterious world spread far above but only a fingerbreadth away. I’d make out as many constellations as I could and eagerly watch for a shooting star. That always felt like a little wink from God, catching one of those, because they are so easy to miss. The sky was my first real memory of vastness. Growing up in Texas, it was a given. Not always in the city of Houston, granted, but whenever we got out of the city and the buildings faded away into mesquite trees and tumble weed snagged in rusty barbed wire, my lungs would expand. My eyes would open wider. Later I would feel it as I stood in the foaming waves of the ocean, and again at the edge of the Grand Canyon. Something thrilled in me at the terror and delight of being so small in the face of something so big. Sometimes I’d taste vastness more acutely in life, like when I experience the overwhelming beauty of pulling a screaming newborn to my chest for the very first time, or the shattering devastation of a traumatic and unexpected death of a sibling. I was suddenly microscopically small in the face of a yawning reality much bigger than I ever could be. Oddly, it’s not a bad feeling – to realize there is a Being much bigger than we ever could be. It’s stabilizing, calming, and reassuring. Vastness doesn’t always feel so safe as that concrete driveway off Buffalo Speedway in Houston Texas. But I think it was so kind of God to start me off there, warm and cozy, surrounded by those I knew and loved. I really like to be comfortable. Safe, you know? Funny, because one of the top things that attracted me to my husband was that he was willing to take risks. Not crazy ones, no stupid motorcycle stunts or Russian roulette kinds of foolishness. But he shifted his priorities from what was easy and pushed into what was really good – hard but good. Falling in love with him wasn’t hard but waiting for that man sure was. It took five eternal years for him to come up for air from the mission field and realize he did want to be married after all. Good thing too, because I was about to become an old maid if he didn’t. But his love for God and His word pushes on, often cutting through deep waters that may seem murky or muddled to me. He pushes for unpacking it all. And that quest for walking with God, no matter where He calls, has led us on a truly unique and powerful journey. His willingness to take risks has allowed us to experience the vastness of God’s provision, of His unexpected abundance, and of His sustenance through seasons of trial. There is so much I am just beginning to understand. Things I’m hungering to unpack. But this I know. The vast needs that spread wide before us? They are already in His hands. The staggering reality that pierces our soul? God sees it, too. The questions our teens will ask? God has already prepared. The friends and influences our children need? He already knows. Hagar went into the desert with her precious son and expected to meet death. Instead, she came face to face with an angel of hope and summarized the scene by saying, “You are the God who sees me” (Genesis 16:13 NIV). No matter how vast the world, no matter how small we feel, we are seen by El-roi, the God who sees us (Genesis 16:13 NRSV). Sitting in the face of these gasping moments calmes me, makes me still and quiet – which is a good thing. Words come so easily, and it’s easy to miss the better things when we are too busy making noise. Sometimes I see straight through a matter with crystal clear vision. Sometimes I’m certain I’m right. But then, sometimes I’m just wrong. It’s humbling, but fact. Sometimes God reveals something to us to hold in silence, like Mary, close and treasured in our hearts (Luke 2:19). God does it so we invite Him to work it like only He can while we pray over it. Sometimes it is time to speak, sometimes it is more important pause, to lean in, to hold a finger to our own lips and look up. To lean in and listen. In that quietness and in
Three Cows
What in the world do three cows have to do with grace? It was a year I will never forget! 1988 would see my family move back to the States after spending eight of the most rewarding years of our lives in the mission field of Thailand. Our departure was more sudden than we had anticipated, as there were problems in our home congregation and the money just was not there. Paula and I prayed for wisdom, and the answer came loud and clear. Yet, we had made so many friends; and it was difficult to pack up eight years into shipping crates and footlockers, get on a train which would take us to an airplane, and just leave! But we did! However, before we left, we spent several weeks traveling all over the country saying good bye to those we loved so much. It was a difficult assignment, but God provided the grace we all needed. I remember one particular good bye that will stay with me forever, or I hope it does. His name was Paw Phim. Paw in the Thai language is a term of respect and endearment for older men. It is equivalent to our “Father.” Paw Phim had become like a second father to me, for it was in his village that I preached my first sermon in Thai. On that particular day, I knew no one understood, but Paw Phim took my hand after the sermon and told me it was one of the finest sermons he had ever heard. Years later I would ask Paw Phim if he really understood what I said, and he told me, “Of course not, but what your face and heart said on that day spoke much louder than what came out of your mouth. I knew then that you loved the Thai people, and it was then I became to love you like a son.” WOW! Aren’t I a lucky man? Paw Phim was the last stop on my circuit of “good byes.” It was the most difficult. I didn’t usually bring food when I went to visit him because it offended him. But I was tired of seeing him get up at 4:00 in the morning and walk over a mile on those swollen, beaten up knees, to go to a small pond to seine a few little fish for me to have in my soup and rice for breakfast. I was tired of seeing his family do without so I could have a little meat with my rice and vegetables at the evening meal. For my last visit, I brought two chickens and a bag full of vegetables and fruit. He didn’t like it one bit and accepted it begrudgingly. However, I was not to outdo Paw Phim! At our last meal, we had roasted beef along with a host of other delicacies. It was unbelievable! We never had beef – there just wasn’t any to be had – water buffalo, yes, but not real beef from a cow! Yet there it was. I asked him where he got it and he told me not to worry about it. I was to eat it and enjoy it for this was the least he could do for me before we had to say our good byes. I kept digging, because I wanted to know what he had just done for me. It was then that my heart began to break, for I found out that Paw Phim had slaughtered his only cow, which gave milk to his grandkids, so I could have beef at our last meal. I gently rebuked him and offered to give him money to buy another cow. It was then that these words poured out of his weather-beaten face, “Joe, I didn’t give my cow to you, I gave it to God. Do you think I would do that for you?” Again, WOW! How does God make people like this? I don’t know, but everyone should have a Paw Phim in his or her life! This story came to its powerful conclusion three years later. I went back to visit my second home in Thailand. Of course I went to see Paw Phim. His health was bad, but his mind and heart were the same. He asked me if I remembered that cow he had slaughtered, and I said that I had. He then took my hand and led me to the back of his house. Standing there were three beautiful cows! I asked Paw Phim where he got them, and his answer? “Where do you think I got them, Joe? God delivered them to me three weeks after you left!” No, I didn’t buy those cows, but someone did! How God provided those three cows I’ll never know, but I don’t need to know! The point of this story is not about the cows, but about the faith and trust of a Thai Christian named Paw Phim who lives on the other side of the world, yet still teaches us that faith and trust will always win the day! Thank you Paw Phim! I’ll see you soon. Now I want to tell you, dear brothers and sisters, what God in his kindness has done for the churches in Macedonia. Though they have been going through much trouble and hard times, their wonderful joy and deep poverty have overflowed in rich generosity. For I can testify that they gave not only what they could afford but far more. And they did it of their own free will. They begged us again and again for the gracious privilege of sharing … (2 Corinthians 8:1-4) About the author: Joe Bagby has been preaching for thirty years. He and his wife Paula were missionaries to Thailand in the 80’s for eight years where they adopted twin girls, Hope and Joy. Joe receive his masters degree in Congregational Ministry from Abilene Christian University with a BS in Education from University of North Texas. He is
Prayer: Warrior or Weakling?
Does prayer feel like sand getting kicked in your face? When I was a kid most summers we’d go for a week or two to visit my grandparents in Pocahontas, Arkansas. My brother and I would go into town with my grandfather who worked at a store near the town square. There wasn’t much to do, so we’d go to Joe Pete’s Five and Dime Store and buy comic books. Before the vacation was over we’d have bought and read everything they had. There was an ad in every one of the comics that caught my attention. Charles Atlas told the story of Mac, the “97-pound weakling.” He’s at the beach and a bully kicks sand in his face. Mac is humiliated. But Mac has read his comics too and knows about Charles Atlas’ body-building course. He orders it, follows it, and becomes a hulking giant that returns to the beach and takes down the bully. He gets the girl and the title “Hero of the Beach.” I’m sure some who know me are thinking, “O.K. So the point is Rick ordered the course and, sure enough, it works.” That’s not the point. A lot of guys felt like Mac when it came to their physique. I’m wondering if anyone has felt like a 97-pound prayer weakling? I have a confession to make. I have been a 97-pound prayer weakling. I didn’t always know I was until I started learning to pray. During college I spent one summer in Miami, Florida, to intern with a church learning how to minister in the larger cities of America. One of the first things we did every morning was pray for an hour. Each of us had a room in the church building in Little Havana. Did I mention the rooms were upstairs? With no air-conditioning? We felt like we were in humid Havana. Most mornings I tried to pray, but I’d get warm and it was muggy and I’d fall asleep. Then, when we’d all get back together, I’d find that I wasn’t the only one. We all struggled to stay awake. We struggled to stay focused. Our minds wandered. That probably hasn’t ever happened to you, has it? I remember thinking, “I’m not a very good disciple. I can’t even pray one hour!” Then I read in Matthew how Jesus was praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. He asked Peter, James and John to stay with him and watch with him. While he’s praying, they’re… well, listen to what Matthew wrote: And he came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, “So, could you not watch with me one hour?” (Matthew 26:40). The first disciples couldn’t pray for an hour either. So one time they asked Jesus, “Lord, teach us to pray.” Know what he did? He began a twelve week series on prayer. He took the word “prayer” and told them what it meant in Greek and Aramaic and what the Hebrew equivalent was. He drew charts on the ground. No! What did Jesus do? He gave them a prayer. The one we call “The Lord’s Prayer.” You may already know the words. It’s short. It’s memorable. It’s something to build on. For 97 pound weaklings, you have to start with something you can pick up. No bench pressing 300 pounds the first time into the gym. (For some of us, never!) You start with something you can build on. That’s what this prayer does. It gives you something to take and build upon. Before you know it, you’ll move from being a prayer weakling to a prayer warrior. So let’s pray it together! Our Father who is in heaven,Hallowed be Your name.Your kingdom come.Your will be done,On earth as it is in heaven.Give us this day our daily bread.And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.And do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil.For Yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen. About the author: Rick Brown is the preaching minister for ChristBridge Fellowship in Tomball, Texas. He loves his wife Karen and two sons. Rick is also the author of The ME Addiction.
Today’s Verse – Deuteronomy 6:6-7
These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. —Deuteronomy 6:6-7 Thoughts on Today’s Verse… We are to begin each day with God. Every breath we take should be a powerful reminder that our Father has granted us another day of life to serve him and bless others. Each heartbeat is God’s drumbeat of love, reminding us that we are blessed with another minute to offer him our best. This blessing is so easily forgotten. We best remember these truths when we teach, demonstrate, and live them with and before our families, children, and grandchildren. We should also teach, demonstrate, and live these with our spiritual friends. But, let’s not leave their learning these truths to our example alone. Let’s find teachable moments to explain our faith to them, praise our Heavenly Father with them, and to teach God’s truths to them. We should do this with them when we sit at home… walk along the road… lie down and… get up.” What’s the point of all of this? So our lives can “be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD as the waters cover the sea” (Habakkuk 2:14). My Prayer… Almighty God, Gracious Sustainer, and Undeserved Friend, thank you! Thank you for this breath I take and for the heartbeat that sustains my life. Please make me aware, as I travel and talk, rest and work, that you are there every moment, and that you are worthy of my awareness, love, and reverence. Please help me share your greatness and nearness with those whom I love. In the name of Jesus, I pray. Amen. All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION. © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House.
05 Mar 2026
The responsibility of the Christian is to work out his or her salvation daily with a grateful heart, being dependent on the Holy Spirit as we journey through life. We need laser focus and tonnes of faith to be able to do that. And as we do that, God will keep working in and through us for His glory. Philippians 2:12-18.
I Got God!
Who do you have in your journey through life? Special Note: Tammy has been very open about sharing her son’s journey in his battle with a brain tumor and the challenges involved with doctors, chemotherapy, radiation, and faith – see the links at the bottom of this page. She is part of The Coffee Group. Jack and I were sitting on the couch the other night. We were watching our favorite show, Deal or No Deal. This show drives me crazy. When I say “our favorite show,” I mean my kids’ favorite show. I just enjoy being a part of their excitement and listening to their advice for the contestants. My oldest son, Derek, is always pushing for the contestant to open one more suitcase. Jack and I are both saying take the money and go home. My daughter, Sophie, doesn’t give her two cents very often. Jack was playing his Game Boy at the same time we were watching the TV. He was sitting right next to me. The commercial for H & R Block came on the television. You’ve probably seen them. The punch line is, “I got people.” You hear it a half a dozen times during the commercial. At the end of the commercial, Jack, with his nose in his Game Boy, says, “I got mama.” Tears, tears and more tears streamed down my face. I said, “Yes, you do Jack.” My meager human heart was swollen with emotion with those three words: “I got mama.” I love Jack so much. Even now, to write those words makes me cry. What must God feel when things are hard for us and we say in no uncertain terms, with no waiver in our voice, “I got God.” There was no waiver in Jack’s voice when he said, “I got mama.” Jack knows I can not fix his brain tumor, but I am by his side ALL the way … and God is at our side ALL the way. I don’t know God’s plans for Jack. I pray for healing, but I don’t know if that is in God’s big scheme of things. However, no matter which case gets opened, there is peace and confidence in knowing, “I GOT GOD!” God has said,“I will never fail you. I will never forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5 NLT). About the author: Tammy Marcelain is part of The Coffee Group. For many years Tammy walked away from the Lord and through His love and grace she has come home to His loving hands. Tammy’s son jack was diagnosed with a brain tumor in April of 2005. Her life shows how to hold onto the Lord and live through His grace in hard times.
‘My Child, Get Up!’
Most of our earth-bound explanations are shallow and trite in the face of life’s harshest realities. Few tragedies wound with as much trauma and inflict such deep sorrow as the death of a child. Indeed, every death of someone close to us can rattle us down to our marrow. However, something about the death of a child dismantles our strength. It challenges the faith of even the strongest of Jesus’ followers. I still hear the wailing sorrow of a dear friend being told her son had died. I watched this past Sunday as a sweet friend held an aged mother as she shook with grief after losing her adult son unexpectedly. I have felt the bitter chill of a nasty, wet, early spring north wind as it gouged empty canyons into the grief-stricken hearts of a young couple as they buried their baby boy. Losing a child is unspeakably hard. Such a death mocks us in its unfairness of parents having to bury children. Everything in us cries that children should bury parents. Maybe that is why I am touched so personally by John’s account of Jesus’ words to Mary from the cross: Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to her, “Woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home (John 19:25-27). These words are poignant and touching. They reach across the centuries and put a human face on the cross’s tragic and brutal nature. This story reminds me that the crucifixion is more than a story about an obedient and divine Son submitting to the will of the Almighty God, his Father. The cross is also a story of a mother and her beloved son. Mary’s boy was savagely beaten, repeatedly mocked, openly ridiculed, and physically tortured and humiliated till he died. Through Mary’s eyes, a little of God’s pain becomes real. We can imagine the pain of a mother losing her son. God’s grief becomes a little more comprehensible to us through the agony of Mary. For me, the Lord’s tenderness with his mother at his death makes two of Jesus’ resurrection miracles all the more poignant. Jesus’ raising of Jairus’ twelve-year-old daughter is as emotionally moving to me as a parent, as the miracle seems so simple for Jesus to accomplish: While Jesus was still speaking, someone came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue leader. “Your daughter is dead,” he said. “Don’t bother the teacher anymore.” Hearing this, Jesus said to Jairus, “Don’t be afraid; just believe, and she will be healed.” When he arrived at the house of Jairus, he did not let anyone go in with him except Peter, John, and James, and the child’s father and mother. Meanwhile, all the people were wailing and mourning for her. “Stop wailing,” Jesus said. “She is not dead but asleep.” They laughed at him, knowing that she was dead. But he took her by the hand and said, “My child, get up!” Her spirit returned, and at once, she stood up. Then Jesus told them to give her something to eat. Her parents were astonished, but he ordered them not to tell anyone what had happened (Luke 8:49-56). I love the phrase, “My child, get up!” I am reminded of a close friend who was deaf and has now gone home to the Lord. In his excitement and confidence, my friend looked forward to the day that he would meet Jesus. He often told us before his death, “The next voice I will hear is Jesus’ voice. The first words I hear will be Jesus’ saying, ‘Lloyd, it’s time to get up and come home with me!’” I also love Jesus’ tenderness with the widow at Nain. She is left all alone in a hard world with even harder grief when her only son dies. Luke chooses beautifully simple language to emphasize Jesus’ compassion for the mom as he deals with the death of her son with little fuss and great tenderness: Jesus went with his disciples to the village of Nain, and a large crowd followed him. A funeral procession was coming out as he approached the village gate. The young man who had died was a widow’s only son, and a large crowd from the village was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart overflowed with compassion. “Don’t cry!” he said. Then he walked over to the coffin and touched it, and the bearers stopped. “Young man,” he said, “I tell you, get up.” Then the dead boy sat up and began to talk! And Jesus gave him back to his mother (Luke 7:11-15 NLT). What a precious way to describe such a life-changing moment: Jesus gave him back to his mother. Oh, how every parent who has lost a child to death could experience such sweet grace! I don’t have the right words or any simple answers for parents who bury children. I hope I am like the dear Christian brother who looked into the aged mother’s eyes Sunday. Then, he lovingly said, “I am sorry. We love you. We hurt with you. Your group of friends will stand by you.” Then without trying to explain, he hugged her, listened to her some more as she described her shock and pain. Then, he held her shoulders and told her gently and tenderly what he has said to reassure her earlier. A moment later, he hugged her again and let her tears fall on his shoulder as her shaking subsided. We don’t have easy answers. Most of our earth-bound explanations run up against death’s realities and come off shallow and trite. Love listens and holds and helps until the brokenhearted parent is ready to throw their questions in “the deep pool of unknowingness.” All the while, they
More Deadly than Cancer
We fool ourselves into discounting the malignant threat of sin to our souls. I had a small mole removed from my back. Pathology showed it to be malignant. The medical practice with a small melanoma is to return to a surgeon and have a larger area removed and studied. I had not been properly prepared for the “larger” area. Somehow I thought of it in terms of an inch or two at most, surrounding the first incision. But what is interesting is the conversation concerning the amount to be removed. It never crossed my mind to ask to have the very least amount taken out that could be done. Obviously, I was not anxious to have a large hole in my back. But neither did I want less than was necessary to remove the possibility of additional malignant cells. Interestingly, few treat the malignancy of sin with such respect. Rather than go farther than necessary to ensure protection, our flesh wants to debate just how little we must remove and still survive. Jesus comments on this inability to carry over natural wisdom into spiritual matters. He said, “Do you know how to discern the appearance of the sky, but cannot discern the signs of the times?” (Mat 16:3b NASB) We will often park our souls closer to Hell’s destruction than we would our car nearer to a dangerous cliff. The nature of the immature has always been to see how close to danger one can get without suffering disaster; but when we see those who would claim maturity doing the same, we tend to doubt their claims. God would advise to “shun the very appearance of evil” (1 Thessalonians 5:2), but man argues, “Is it really very evil or just slightly away from good?” Paul wrote to the young man Timothy and urged him: Now flee from youthful lusts, and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart (2 Timothy 2:22). This is no “How close can you get?” statement. Timothy is encouraged to “flee.” That is, in common terms, to run as far as he could from sin’s presence. If we could ever convince humankind – if we could convince ourselves – that sin is more deadly than cancer, then we would have made great strides in the battle against it. I have faced cancer several times in my life. I always wanted it removed, “Right now!” But, it is deadly easy to let sin co-exist with our faith while feeling little urgency. The significant word here is “deadly” – as in terminal! How will we ever elevate our fear of the proximity of sin to the level of the fear of the proximity of cancer? Jesus well knew man’s misplaced emphasis when he said the following: And do not fear those who kill the body, but are unable to kill the soul; but rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell (Matthew 10:28). Sin is a form of spiritual malignancy that is potentially more deadly than any cancer! About the author: Bill is a long time minister in Nacogdoches, Texas who loves world missions. His passion for ministry has led him all over the world. In addition to his work as a minister, he is also a licensed professional counselor. Bill’s family is also involved in ministry and service to the world and community.
04 Mar 2026
Over and above what we need and desire,a follower of Christ must purpose to live well with others. Love should be the motivation. Where love abounds, grace abounds. Let us not be caught up with our needs and desires and forget to exemplify the love of God. Colossians 3:12-17.