Time Out! Devotions

Genesis 39:1-23 (NIV)

¹ Now Joseph had been taken down to Egypt. Potiphar, an Egyptian who was one of Pharaoh’s officials, the captain of the guard, bought him from the Ishmaelites who had taken him there.

² The LORD was with Joseph and he prospered, and he lived in the house of his Egyptian master. ³ When his master saw that the LORD was with him and that the LORD gave him success in everything he did, ⁴ Joseph found favor in his eyes and became his attendant. Potiphar put him in charge of his household, and he entrusted to his care everything he owned. ⁵ From the time he put him in charge of his household and of all that he owned, the LORD blessed the household of the Egyptian because of Joseph. The blessing of the LORD was on everything Potiphar had, both in the house and in the field. ⁶ So he left in Joseph’s care everything he had; with Joseph in charge, he did not concern himself with anything except the food he ate.

Now Joseph was well-built and handsome, ⁷ and after a while his master’s wife took notice of Joseph and said, “Come to bed with me!” ⁸ But he refused. “With me in charge,” he told her, “my master does not concern himself with anything in the house; everything he owns he has entrusted to my care. ⁹ No one is greater in this house than I am. My master has withheld nothing from me except you, because you are his wife. How then could I do such a wicked thing and sin against God?” ¹⁰ And though she spoke to Joseph day after day, he refused to go to bed with her or even be with her.

¹¹ One day he went into the house to attend to his duties, and none of the household servants was inside. ¹² She caught him by his cloak and said, “Come to bed with me!” But he left his cloak in her hand and ran out of the house. ¹³ When she saw that he had left his cloak in her hand and had run out of the house, ¹⁴ she called her household servants. “Look,” she said to them, “this Hebrew has been brought to us to make sport of us! He came in here to sleep with me, but I screamed. ¹⁵ When he heard me scream for help, he left his cloak beside me and ran out of the house.” ¹⁶ She kept his cloak beside her until his master came home. ¹⁷ Then she told him this story: “That Hebrew slave you brought us came to me to make sport of me. ¹⁸ But as soon as I screamed for help, he left his cloak beside me and ran out of the house.”

¹⁹ When his master heard the story his wife told him, saying, “This is how your slave treated me,” he burned with anger. ²⁰ Joseph’s master took him and put him in prison, the place where the king’s prisoners were confined. But while Joseph was there in the prison, ²¹ the LORD was with him; he showed him kindness and granted him favor in the eyes of the prison warden. ²² So the warden put Joseph in charge of all those held in the prison, and he was made responsible for all that was done there. ²³ The warden paid no attention to anything under Joseph’s care, because the LORD was with Joseph and gave him success in whatever he did.

In this day of “instant” news, we regularly see images of calamity in our world. And on a personal level, we experience seasons of hardship as well. The same is true of friends and family who encounter difficulties with children, job layoffs, and marriage breakups.

As Christians, we have a heavenly Father who has promised to be with us in our troubles. We can rely on Him—He knows what will happen before we do; nothing is hidden from His sight (Hebrews 4:13). He sees in the darkness of troubled times as clearly as He does in the daylight (Psalm 139:11-12). Through His Spirit, He offers us the comfort, strength, and wisdom to persevere. The story of Joseph illustrates this truth. After being rejected by his brothers at a young age and sold into slavery, he was falsely accused by his master’s wife and imprisoned. But in the midst of those terrible times, the young Hebrew man experienced God’s presence and favor.

I doubt Joseph comprehended the Lord’s intentions during his slavery and imprisonment. But later on, as second-in-command to Pharaoh, he understood God’s purpose in allowing those difficult years. In the end, Joseph testified to what he knew to be true. His brothers had meant to harm him, but God used all the hardship to accomplish His good plan (Genesis 45:4-8; 50:20).

When troubles hit, remember what is true and take heart. The indwelling Holy Spirit has the resources to provide what we need, equip us for the journey, and sustain us with His presence throughout the dark days. Nothing can stop the purposes of our Lord from being carried out (Isaiah 14:27).

(devotional by Dr. Charles Stanley from the

June 2010 issue of In Touch magazine)

It’s one of the most compelling narratives in all of Scripture. So fascinating is the scene, in fact, that Luke opted to record it in detail.

Two disciples are walking down the dusty road to the village of Emmaus. Their talk concerns the crucified Jesus. Their words come slowly, trudging in cadence with the dirge-like pace of their feet.

“I can hardly believe it. He’s gone.”

“What do we do now?”

“It’s Peter’s fault, he shouldn’t have … ”

Just then a stranger comes up from behind and says, “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing you. Who are you discussing?”

They stop and turn. Other travelers make their way around them as the three stand in silence. Finally one of them asks, “Where have you been the last few days? Haven’t you heard about Jesus of Nazareth?” And he continues to tell what has happened. (Luke 24:13-24)

This scene fascinates me—two sincere disciples telling how the last nail has been driven in Israel’s coffin. God, in disguise, listens patiently, his wounded hands buried deeply in his robe. He must have been touched at the faithfulness of this pair. Yet he also must have been a bit chagrined. He had just gone to hell and back to give heaven to earth, and these two were worried about the political situation of Israel.

“But we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.”

But we had hoped … How often have you heard a phrase like that?

“We were hoping the doctor would release him.”
“I had hoped to pass the exam.”
“We had hoped the surgery would get all the tumor.”
“I thought the job was in the bag.”

Words painted gray with disappointment. What we wanted didn’t come. What came, we didn’t want. The result? Shattered hope. The foundation of our world trembles.

We trudge up the road to Emmaus dragging our sandals in the dust, wondering what we did to deserve such a plight. “What kind of God would let me down like this?”

And yet, so tear-filled are our eyes and so limited is our perspective that God could be the fellow walking next to us and we wouldn’t know it.

You see, the problem with our two heavy-hearted friends was not a lack of faith, but a lack of vision. Their petitions were limited to what they could imagine—an earthly kingdom. Had God answered their prayer, had he granted their hope, the Seven-Day War would have started two thousand years earlier and Jesus would have spent the next forty years training his apostles to be cabinet members. You have to wonder if God’s most merciful act is his refusal to answer some of our prayers.

We are not much different than burdened travelers, are we? We roll in the mud of self-pity in the very shadow of the cross. We piously ask for his will and then have the audacity to pout if everything doesn’t go our way. If we would just remember the heavenly body that awaits us, we’d stop complaining that he hasn’t healed this earthly one.

Our problem is not so much that God doesn’t give us what we hope for as it is that we don’t know the right thing for which to hope. (You may want to read that sentence again.)

Hope is not what you expect; it is what you would never dream. It is a wild, improbable tale with a pinch-me-I’m-dreaming ending. It’s Abraham adjusting his bifocals so he can see not his grandson, but his son. It’s Moses standing in the promised land not with Aaron or Miriam at his side, but with Elijah and the transfigured Christ. It’s Zechariah left speechless at the sight of his wife Elizabeth, gray-headed and pregnant. And it is the two Emmaus-bound pilgrims reaching out to take a piece of bread only to see that the hands from which it is offered are pierced.

Hope is not a granted wish or a favor performed; no, it is far greater than that. It is a zany, unpredictable dependence on a God who loves to surprise us out of our socks and be there in the flesh to see our reaction.

From God Came Near: Chronicles of the Christ
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 1985, 2004) Max Lucado

Psalm 25:1-7 (NCV)

¹ Lord, I give myself to you; ² my God, I trust you. Do not let me be disgraced; do not let my enemies laugh at me. ³ No one who trusts you will be disgraced, but those who sin without excuse will be disgraced.

⁴ Lord, tell me your ways. Show me how to live. ⁵ Guide me in your truth, and teach me, my God, my Savior. I trust you all day long.⁶ Lord, remember your mercy and love that you have shown since long ago. ⁷ Do not remember the sins and wrong things I did when I was young. But remember to love me always because you are good, Lord.

Enemies are those who not only oppose us, but also oppose God’s way of living. Enemies can also be temptations – money, success, prestige, lust. And our greatest enemy is Satan. David asked God to keep his enemies from overcoming him because they opposed what God stood for. If his enemies succeeded, David feared that many would think that living for God was futile. David knew that God would triumph, but he didn’t want his enemies’ success to be an obstacle to the faith of others.

David expressed his desire for guidance. How do we receive God’s guidance? The first step is to want to be guided and to realize that God’s guidance is found mainly in His Word, the Bible. Psalm 119 tells of the endless knowledge found in God’s Word. By reading it and constantly learning from it, we will gain the wisdom to perceive God’s direction for our lives (Hebrews 5:14).

God is unlimited, all-conquering, and has unrestrained authority over all of creation and over each individual. Therefore, He is the only source of salvation, hope, and true peace through the forgiveness of sins.

Psalm 25:8-11 (NCV)

⁸ The Lord is good and right; He points sinners to the right way. ⁹ He shows those who are humble how to do right, and He teaches them His ways.¹⁰ All the Lord’s ways are loving and true for those who follow the demands of His agreement.¹¹ For the sake of your name, Lord, forgive my many sins.

We are bombarded today with unlimited appeals to “go my way.” TV advertising alone places hundreds of options before us, in addition to appeals made by political parties, cults, false religions, and dozens of other groups. Numerous organizations including Christian organizations seek to motivate us to “support the cause.” Add to that the dozens of decisions we must make concerning our jobs, our families, our money, our society, and we become desperate for someone to show us the right way.

If you find yourself pulled in several directions, remember that the Lord “shows those who are humble how to do right, and He teaches them his ways.“

Psalm 25:15-20 (NCV)

¹⁵ My eyes are always looking to the Lord for help. He will keep me from any traps. ¹⁶ Turn to me and have mercy on me, because I am lonely and hurting. ¹⁷ My troubles have grown larger; free me from my problems. ¹⁸ Look at my suffering and troubles, and take away all my sins. ¹⁹ Look at how many enemies I have! See how much they hate me! ²⁰ Protect me and save me. I trust you, so do not let me be disgraced.

Life’s problems always seem to go from bad to worse. God is the only one who can reverse this downward spiral. He can take our problems and turn them into glorious victories. There is one necessary requirement – we, like the psalmist (David), must cry out, “Come, Lord, and show me your mercy.” When you are willing to do that, the worst can become something wonderful. But the next step is yours, for God has already made His offer.

Dear Friend,

I’m writing to say thanks. I wish I could thank you personally, but I don’t know where you are. I wish I could call you, but I don’t know your name. If I knew your appearance, I’d look for you, but your face is fuzzy in my memory. But I’ll never forget what you did.

There you were, leaning against your pickup in the West Texas oil field. An engineer of some sort. A supervisor on the job. Your khakis and clean shirt set you apart from us roustabouts. In the oil field pecking order, we were at the bottom. You were the boss. We were the workers. You read the blueprints. We dug the ditches. You inspected the pipe. We laid it. You ate with the bosses in the shed. We ate with each other in the shade.

Except that day.

I remember wondering why you did it.

We weren’t much to look at. What wasn’t sweaty was oily. Faces burnt from the sun; skin black from the grease. Didn’t bother me, though. I was there only for the summer. A high-school boy earning good money laying pipe.

We weren’t much to listen to, either. Our language was sandpaper coarse. After lunch, we’d light the cigarettes and begin the jokes. Someone always had a deck of cards with lacy-clad girls on the back. For thirty minutes in the heat of the day, the oil patch became Las Vegas—replete with foul language, dirty stories, blackjack, and barstools that doubled as lunch pails.

In the middle of such a game, you approached us. I thought you had a job for us that couldn’t wait another few minutes. Like the others, I groaned when I saw you coming.

You were nervous. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other as you began to speak.

“Uh, fellows,” you started.

We turned and looked up at you.

“I, uh, I just wanted, uh, to invite … ”

You were way out of your comfort zone. I had no idea what you might be about to say, but I knew that it had nothing to do with work.

“I just wanted to tell you that, uh, our church is having a service tonight and, uh … ”

“What?” I couldn’t believe it. “He’s talking church? Out here? With us?”

“I wanted to invite any of you to come along.”

Silence. Screaming silence.

Several guys stared at the dirt. A few shot glances at the others. Snickers rose just inches from the surface.

“Well, that’s it. Uh, if any of you want to go … uh, let me know.”

After you turned and left, we turned and laughed. We called you “reverend,” “preacher,” and “the pope.” We poked fun at each other, daring one another to go. You became the butt of the day’s jokes.

I’m sure you knew that. I’m sure you went back to your truck knowing the only good you’d done was to make a good fool out of yourself. If that’s what you thought, then you were wrong.

That’s the reason for this letter.

Some five years later, a college sophomore was struggling with a decision. He had drifted from the faith given to him by his parents. He wanted to come back. He wanted to come home. But the price was high. His friends might laugh. His habits would have to change. His reputation would have to be overcome.

Could he do it? Did he have the courage?

That’s when I thought of you. As I sat in my dorm room late one night, looking for the guts to do what I knew was right, I thought of you.

I thought of how your love for God had been greater than your love for your reputation.

I thought of how your obedience had been greater than your common sense.

I remembered how you had cared more about making disciples than about making a good first impression. And when I thought of you, your memory became my motivation.

So I came home.

I’ve told your story dozens of times to thousands of people. Each time the reaction is the same: The audience becomes a sea of smiles, and heads bob in understanding. Some smile because they think of the “clean-shirted engineers” in their lives. They remember the neighbor who brought the cake, the aunt who wrote the letter, the teacher who listened …

Others smile because they have done what you did. And they, too, wonder if their “lunchtime loyalty” was worth the effort.

You wondered that. What you did that day wasn’t much. And I’m sure you walked away that day thinking that your efforts had been wasted.

They weren’t.

So I’m writing to say thanks. Thanks for the example. Thanks for the courage. Thanks for giving your lunch to God. He did something with it; it became the Bread of Life for me.

Gratefully,

Max

P.S. If by some remarkable coincidence you read this and remember that day, please give me a call. I owe you lunch.

From In the Eye of the Storm
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 1997) Max Lucado

1 Peter 5:6-7 (NIV)

⁶Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. ⁷Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

How would you respond if someone accused you of something you didn’t do? What if you were fired from your job or shunned by your church for actions you never committed? Or perhaps simply misjudged by your peers? What attitude should Christians take when confronted with situations like these?

The apostle Paul knew a lot about being misunderstood. He writes, “Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus. He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:5-8).

Jesus chose to become a suffering servant so that we could have eternal life. This was God’s plan for Him. However, Peter could not understand the Messiah’s selfless behavior, so he fought against it. He protested, “God forbid it, Lord! This shall never happened to You!” (Matthew 16:22). The fisherman’s pride stood in the way of his understanding and led him to a very different response than Christ desired.

“Get behind Me, Satan!” was Jesus’ immediate response—one that struck at the core of Peter’s problem. God’s truth always hits the mark. Peter’s pride and desire to see Jesus become a reigning earthly king had surfaced, and the Lord knew He had to address the issue head-on. “You are a stumbling block to Me; for you are not setting your mind on God’s interests, but man’s” (v. 23).

Do you have the right attitude when it comes to following Christ? Peter had to lay down his personal desires and selfishness. Paul had to surrender his way and forego his claim to a respectable position in society. Humility in the life of the believer is the mark of greatness—not because you shine when you are humbled, but because when you submit to God’s will, He shines through you.

Perhaps you are faced with a difficult situation but don’t understand why God has chosen that avenue for you. Allow Him to use this time in your life to teach you how to be humble. Peter did just this. And he discovered that once humility accomplishes its perfect work, God will exalt us at the proper time (1 Peter 5:6). Blessing follows the obedience of a humbled heart.

(by Dr. Charles Stanley from the March 2010 issue of In Touch magazine)