Time Out! Devotions

(devotional written by Max Lucado from MaxLucado.com)

The sheep listen to the voice of the shepherd. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. — John 10:3

WHEN I SEE a flock of sheep I see exactly that, a flock. A rabble of wool. A herd of hooves. I don’t see a sheep. I see sheep. All alike. None different. That’s what I see.

But not so with the shepherd. To him every sheep is different. Every face is special. Every face has a story. And every sheep has a name. The one with the sad eyes, that’s Droopy. And the fellow with one ear up and the other down, I call him Oscar. And the small one with the black patch on his leg, he’s an orphan with no brothers. I call him Joseph.

The shepherd knows his sheep. He calls them by name.

When we see a crowd, we see exactly that, a crowd. Filling a stadium or flooding a mall. When we see a crowd, we see people, not persons, but people. A herd of humans. A flock of faces. That’s what we see.

But not so with the Shepherd. To him every face is different. Every face is a story. Every face is a child. Every child has a name. The one with the sad eyes, that’s Sally. The old fellow with one eyebrow up and the other down, Harry’s his name. And the young one with the limp? He’s an orphan with no brothers. I call him Joey.

The Shepherd knows his sheep. He knows each one by name. The Shepherd knows you. He knows your name. And he will never forget it. “I have written your name on my hand“ (Isaiah 49:16).

Quite a thought, isn’t it? Your name on God’s hand. Your name on God’s lips. Maybe you’ve seen your name in some special places. On an award or diploma or walnut door. Or maybe you’ve heard your name from some important people—a coach, a celebrity, a teacher. But to think that your name is on God’s hand and on God’s lips . . . my, could it be?

Or perhaps you’ve never seen your name honored. And you can’t remember when you heard it spoken with kindness. If so, it may be more difficult for you to believe that God knows your name.

But he does. Written on his hand. Spoken by his mouth. Whispered by his lips. Your name. And not only the name you now have, but the name he has in store for you. A new name he will give you . . .

When God Whispers Your Name is a book of hope. A book whose sole aim is to encourage. I’ve harvested thoughts from a landscape of fields. And though their size and flavors are varied, their purpose is singular: to provide you, the reader, with a word of hope. I thought you could use it.

You’ve been on my mind as I’ve been writing. I’ve thought of you often. I honestly have. Over the years I’ve gotten to know some of you folks well. I’ve read your letters, shaken your hands, and watched your eyes. I think I know you.

You’re busy. Time passes before your tasks are finished. And if you get a chance to read, it’s a slim chance indeed.

You’re anxious. Bad news outpaces the good. Problems outnumber solutions. And you are concerned. What future do your children have on this earth? What future do you have?

You’re cautious. You don’t trust as easily as you once did.

Politicians lied. The system failed. The minister compromised. Your spouse cheated. It’s not easy to trust. It’s not that you don’t want to. It’s just that you want to be careful.

There is one other thing. You’ve made some mistakes. I met one of you at a bookstore in Michigan. A businessman, you seldom came out of your office at all and never to meet an author. But then you did. You were regretting the many hours at work and the few hours at home and wanted to talk.

And the single mom in Chicago. One kid was tugging, the other crying, but juggling them both, you made your point. “I made mistakes,” you explained, “but I really want to try again.”

And there was that night in Fresno. The musician sang and I spoke and you came. You almost didn’t. You almost stayed home. Just that day you’d found the note from your wife. She was leaving you. But you came anyway. Hoping I’d have something for the pain. Hoping I’d have an answer. Where is God at a time like this?

And so as I wrote, I thought about you. All of you. You aren’t malicious. You aren’t evil. You aren’t hardhearted, (hardheaded occasionally, but not hardhearted). You really want to do what is right. But sometimes life turns south. Occasionally we need a reminder.

Not a sermon.

A reminder.

A reminder that God knows your name.

From When God Whispers Your Name
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 1999) Max Lucado

(By Dollie Meredith Eckols, Mexia, Texas from Guideposts.com)

Scooping up one-year-old Jason, I grabbed my keys from the counter and called to five-year-old Robert: “Time to go!” We were running late for a doctor’s appointment.

The Texas summer heat beat down on us when we stepped outside. Robert kicked off his shoes and made footprints in the sandy driveway all the way to the car.

“Mommy will crank up the A.C., guys,” I promised, buckling Jason into his car seat. I locked and slammed his door and reached for the handle on the passenger side so Robert could hop in. Now where did I put those keys? My eyes darted back to Jason, who was waving my keys in his hand.

In a panic, I tried all the doors. The car was locked tight. Little Jason wouldn’t last more than a few minutes in that heat. I had to get him out! I grabbed a hoe from the garage. “Move back, Robert!” I shouted. I swung at the rear window, but the hoe glanced off the shatterproof glass. Jason started to cry, his face red. “Oh, God, please help us!” I called.

“Mom, look,” Robert said. A young man in blue jeans stood behind me in the driveway. He took the hoe, broke a side window with a single blow, reached in and unlocked Jason’s door. I gathered him in my arms and pulled Robert close. “It’s okay, boys. We’re all okay.”

“Where did that man go?” Robert wanted to know. I looked around. The street was empty, and our sandy driveway showed only two sets of footprints—mine and Robert’s.

(devotional by Rebecca Ondov from OurPrayer.org)

Jesus answered and said to him, “. . . We will come to him and make Our home with him.” John 14:23 (NKJV)

I jogged to my car, dragging God with me as I zipped through my daily prayers. Bless Mom and Dad, I prayed, and down the list I went. Then my mind skipped to the errands I needed to run before my friend Autumn and her seven-year-old daughter Carissa arrived for a sleepover. God, I’ll catch some time with You this afternoon.

Afternoon melted into evening and before I knew it, Autumn and Carissa were knocking on my door. My golden retriever puppy Sunrise bounded after Carissa, who ran away squealing in delight. The two tumbled on the lawn until dinner, and afterward they were at it again. We popped corn; Carissa shared hers with Sunrise. When we snuggled into blankets and turned on Anne of Green Gables, Carissa wanted Sunrise next to her.

During a break in the movie, Carissa tugged on my pant leg, “Rebecca, where does Sunrise sleep?” she asked.

“In my walk-in closet.”

“Do you think I could sleep with her?”

Autumn nodded, so after the movie I laid pillows on the floor next to Sunrise’s bed and tucked Carissa into a sleeping bag. As I glanced over at my prayer chair, I remembered my broken promise. Oh, God, I never did get back to You!

I looked into the closet at Carissa snuggling next to Sunrise. God, that’s what I want to be—passionate about being with You. Please be with me everywhere I go.

Thank You, Lord, for the comfort of Your friendship.

(from Luther Seminary – God Pause Daily Devotional)

John 2:1-11 (NCV)

¹ Two days later there was a wedding in the town of Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there,² and Jesus and his followers were also invited to the wedding.³ When all the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no more wine.”

⁴ Jesus answered, “Dear woman, why come to me? My time has not yet come.”

⁵ His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you to do.”

⁶ In that place there were six stone water jars that the Jews used in their washing ceremony. Each jar held about twenty or thirty gallons.

⁷ Jesus said to the servants, “Fill the jars with water.” So they filled the jars to the top.

⁸ Then he said to them, “Now take some out and give it to the master of the feast.”

So they took the water to the master. ⁹ When he tasted it, the water had become wine. He did not know where the wine came from, but the servants who had brought the water knew. The master of the wedding called the bridegroom¹⁰ and said to him, “People always serve the best wine first. Later, after the guests have been drinking awhile, they serve the cheaper wine. But you have saved the best wine till now.”

¹¹ So in Cana of Galilee Jesus did his first miracle. There he showed his glory, and his followers believed in him.

A mother’s words can have a lot of power. When I was growing up, there was one phrase from my mom that I hated to hear more than anything else: “I know you’ll do the right thing, honey.” She always seemed to know when I was tempted to slack off in school or ditch my responsibilities at home. That little phrase got right at who I wanted to be inside. It pushed me to make her proud – and to make choices I could be proud of too.

Jesus’ mother seems to have that kind of power over her son, too. With one phrase – “they have no wine” – she gets under Jesus’ skin. And despite his outward insouciance – “that’s not my problem” – she appears sure her son will do the right thing. Maybe she’s just being a mom … but maybe she also knows just who Jesus is inside.

Are there any words that have that kind of power over you, that drive you to do the right thing, to be the bigger person, to make your mother – or your Father – proud?

“Lord, I want to make you proud of me. Help me be the person you created me to be. Amen.”

Shelley Cunningham
Christ the King Lutheran Church, New Brighton, Minn.
Master of Divinity, 1998