Time Out! Devotions

The sound was deafening. Although no one was near enough to hear it, ultimately it echoed around the world. None of the passengers in the DC-4 ever knew what happened—they died instantly. That was February 15, 1947, when the Avianca Airline flight bound for Quito, Ecuador, crashed into the 14,000-foot-high peak of El Tablazo not far from Bogota, then dropped—a flaming mass of metal—into a ravine far below.

One of the victims was a young New Yorker named Glenn Chambers, who had planned to begin a ministry with the “Voice of the Andes.”

Before leaving the Miami airport earlier that day, Chambers had written a note to his mother on a piece of paper he picked up in the terminal. The paper was a piece of an advertisement with the single word WHY? sprawled across the center. In a hurry and preoccupied, he scribbled his note around that word, folded it, and stuffed it into an envelope addressed to his mother.

The note arrived after the news of his death. When his mother received it, there, staring up at her, was that haunting question: WHY?

Of all questions, this is the most searching, the most tormenting. It accompanies every tragedy. It falls from the lips of the mother who delivers a stillborn . . . the wife who learns of her husband’s tragic death . . . the child who is told, “Daddy won’t be coming home any more” . . . the struggling father of five who loses his job . . . the close friend of one who commits suicide.

Why? Why me? Why now? Why this? Nothing can fully prepare us for such moments.  Few thoughts can steady us afterward . . .  perhaps only one.

Consider Job . . . imagine his feelings!

“You’ve lost your livestock, they’ve been stolen. Your sheep and camels were also destroyed. Your employees were murdered, Job. Oh, one more thing—your children were crushed in a freak windstorm . . . they are dead, my friend, all ten of them.”

That actually happened. Job got all this news in one brief period of panic. Shortly thereafter he broke out in boils—from head to toe. Grief-stricken. Stunned. Bankrupt. In excruciating pain, both in body and spirit. At a total loss to explain even one tragedy, to say nothing of five! It was naked, raw agony, and the heavens were mute. No explanation thundered across the celestial chasm. Not one reason . . . not a single one. And then his wife advised: “Curse God and die!”

Boldly Job snapped, “You sound like a fool, woman!” Wisely he stated, “Shall we accept only good from God and never adversity?”

Notice very carefully what Job claimed that day. Don’t miss the thing that carried him through. Unlike the stance of the stoic—“Grin and bear it . . . or at least grit your teeth and endure it”—Job grabbed one great principle and held on. It formed the knot at the end of his rope . . . it steadied his step . . . it kept him from cursing. No other single truth removes the need to ask “Why?” like this one:

GOD IS TOO KIND TO DO ANYTHING CRUEL . . . TOO WISE TO MAKE A MISTAKE . . . TOO DEEP TO EXPLAIN HIMSELF.

That’s it! Job rested his case there.

It’s remarkable how believing that one profound statement erases the “Why?” from earth’s inequities.

It was the same knot a brokenhearted mother in New York tied in the winter of 1947. Mrs. Chambers stopped asking Why? when she saw the Who? behind the scene.

All other sounds are muffled when we claim His absolute sovereignty. Even the deafening sound of a crashing DC-4.

Taken from Charles R. Swindoll, The Finishing Touch: Becoming God’s Masterpiece (Dallas: Word, 1994), 170-71.

(from Insight For Living – Charles Swindoll)

What do you consider most significant about Christmas? Many people would say visiting with relatives, attending parties, or giving and receiving gifts. For believers, however, Christmas is far more than a December holiday with time off from work. It is a personal promise from God to mankind.

The significance of this special day is embodied in two scriptural names. In the first chapter of Matthew, an angel of the Lord told Joseph that Mary, his fiancée, would bear a son conceived of the Holy Spirit. He instructed Joseph to name the child “Jesus” (Matthew 1:21). He also announced that the birth would fulfill Isaiah’s prophecy: “‘They shall call His name Immanuel,’ which translated means ‘God with us’” (Matthew 1:23, referring to Isaiah 7:14).

Let’s examine the two names in this passage––Jesus and Immanuel. The name “Jesus” is a transliteration of the Old Testament Hebrew word Joshua, meaning “the Lord is salvation.” When the angel said, “You shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21), he was pointing to the significance of that original Christmas: God provided a solution for your sin and mine, as well as for the sin of the entire world—past, present, and future.

Seven hundred years before Christ’s birth, Isaiah’s prophesy was a word of hope and encouragement to Judah as it faced a great crisis. The prophet’s message was an indication of what God was about to do then as well as what would ultimately be fulfilled in the Messiah’s advent. Immanuel, a name full of promise, was God’s way of assuring the Old Testament saints that He was with them. Taken together, these two names encompass what we need for our entire life: Jesus, the pardoner of our sins, and Immanuel, the divine presence within us to help and guide every moment of every day. The names and the promises in them are the foundation for every facet of Christian life.

So how did God engineer that first Christmas to fulfill the promises of Jesus and Immanuel? His method was the incarnation. On the night Christ was born, the eternal God–motivated by love–entered the human family. He was supernaturally conceived by the Holy Spirit and physically born of a virgin. Jesus never ceased to be God, and He remained perfectly sinless in His being.

If the incarnation hadn’t take place exactly as it did, then we would still be living in our sin. According to Scripture, the punishment for sin is death (Romans 6:23). The Bible also says that God rejects any imperfect sacrifice (Deuteronomy 17:1). Jesus, because of His absolute sinlessness, is the only one who could save us by offering Himself as a payment for our sin-debt.

Apart from the birth of God in human flesh, every one of us would have to stand before God with all of our sin resting upon us—and our sins would separate us from Him (Isaiah 59:2). So the incarnation is the promise of Jesus—“the Lord is salvation”—for every person in the world.

But that was not the full extent of God’s awesome plan. He also promised us His presence, which was fulfilled in the birth of Immanuel. Jesus was “God with us,” the incarnate Deity, who physically lived and walked among men to show us what the heavenly Father is like.

Before His crucifixion, Jesus encouraged His disciples with the promise of God’s indwelling presence. Christ said that when He went away, He would ask the Father to send the Spirit of truth, who “abides with you and will be in you” to teach, remind, comfort, and guide every step of the way (John 14:17, 26).

Far better than God simply being “with me” is God within me, for me, and through me! And that is His promise to every generation of believers—the incomparable, supernatural, immeasurable God will take up residence inside us and be everything we need. Once He lives within you, there will never be a time you have to walk without Him (Hebrews 13:5).

In light of the wonderful promise of God’s redemption and presence, believers should be confident and courageous. We don’t have a single need He can’t satisfy. What cause have we for worry or fear when the sovereign, almighty God is with us?

So this year, as you gather on Christmas morning, I encourage you and your family to kneel and give thanks to almighty God. The incarnation is the very essence of Christmas. There’s nothing wrong with the gifts or festivities, as long as they don’t crowd out what belongs in first place: Christmas is about God breaking into humanity, shattering time, and becoming life and hope and help to all mankind.

(by Dr. Charles Stanley from In Touch Ministries online)

For the longest time I didn’t understand the new-car industry. I had always thought it worked like this. When a guy wanted a car, he dropped by the local dealership, kicked a few tires, slammed some doors, and fiddled around with radios, hoods, and trunk lids. Then he would rap with the salesman, dicker over prices, choose his favorite color, and place the order. I figured that when headquarters got the specs, they’d scurry around the shop finding the right steering wheel, engine, chrome strips, and hubcaps, then make sure all that stuff got stuck on correctly before it was shipped. You know, kind of like whipping up a last-minute meal with grub from the kitchen.

But that’s not the way it is at all. To my amazement, I discovered that a computer card puts into motion dozens of contacts all over the country. One spot makes only engines. Another, the glass and plastic parts. Some other outfit does the steering wheels, and yet another the carpet and vinyl. As the order is placed, it triggers action in all these related areas. And—hopefully—at just the right time the special things arrive at the assembly plant where it all comes together—everything from bumper bolts to windshield wipers. And within a relatively short period of time, a shiny new car is punched out, rolled onto a transport truck, and sent to its proper destination.

What a remarkable arrangement ingenious Americans have devised! And none of it was even thought of two hundred years ago.

Now then—if man can come up with an organizational plan as complex as all that, think of how much more efficient God’s arrangement was . . . over two thousand years ago. I’m referring to the perfectly synchronized events surrounding the Savior’s birth. For sure, it was no afterthought. Scripture assures us that “when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His Son” (Galatians 4:4).

Fantastic statement!

At just the right moment, precisely as God arranged it, in keeping with a plan we might dub “Operation Arrival,” enter Messiah.

Micah said it would be in Bethlehem, Judah. It was. But I thought Joseph and Mary were of Nazareth, Galilee. They were. Aren’t those places miles apart? Yes, in those times days apart. Then . . . how? Well, you see, that’s just a small part of the plan, nevertheless amazing. Especially when you consider Mary was almost “term” in her pregnancy. To get them down south in time required fairly good roads—unheard of prior to the Roman takeover. And they certainly needed to be forced to travel . . . hence a required census from Caesar Augustus (Luke 2:1) that forced Joseph to register in person in the city of his family roots, Bethlehem (Luke 2:4).

But before a Savior could be born, there also needed to be some natural means of common communication—a familiar tongue that would quickly spread the news. No problem. Thanks to Alexander the Great, the father of koine Greek, that language was ripe and ready for rapid dissemination of the gospel message through the pen of the evangelists and apostles from then on.

Thanks to good roads, a decision in Rome, and a bothersome census, it happened at just the right place. At just the right time . . . with an articulate language as the perfect verbal vehicle. A little baby that the world hardly noticed arrived. Rome was too busy building and conquering. Augustus thought he was hot stuff prancing about the palace demanding that census. In reality he was little more than a wisp of lint on the prophetic page . . . a pawn in the hand of the Commander of “Operation Arrival.”

The things God pulled off to get His Son delivered on time twenty-one centuries ago would make the pride of American ingenuity look like an organizational afterthought by comparison.

Excerpted from Come Before Winter and Share My Hope, Copyright © 1985, 1994 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc.

(from Insight for Living Library)