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

(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.

When I was about six years old I was outside playing on a beautiful sunny day. An older neighbor decided to trick me into entering an old wooden storage shed at the far end of our yard. I went in according to his plan, then he shut the door, padlocked it securely, and went home laughing.

The darkness that enveloped me was immediate, as was my fear and helplessness at being trapped inside. Obviously, I pounded on the door repeatedly as hard as I could and yelled loudly to anyone who might hear. But after many minutes of silence went by I realized I had to calm down and wait until I was rescued.

It is unsettling how quickly and unexpectedly shadows of darkness can invade our lives. They can be black clouds of temptation that roll in just when we are determined not to react out of our weakness in that time. It may be the cold, penetrating blackness of discouragement that is so hard to ignore.  It may be a dark specter of doubt and uncertainty as we are bombarded by threatening or unyielding circumstances. Recently, for me, it was the onslaught of chronic health problems rendering me inactive and seemingly useless for ministry. But for others it may be something far worse and foreboding during which God seems to be, not only silent, but disinterested.

Now back to the boy in the shed. My fear and preoccupation with the darkness and the unknowns in that shed continued to dominate my thoughts until I noticed a small beam of light coming in through the wood slats of the door. There in the distinct ray of light I saw thousands of tiny dust particles drifting, circulating – yes, almost dancing within the light! For what seemed like a long time I sat observing their joyous display as if the dust was oblivious to the darkness.

There is a wonderful application of truth here. The Bible says that the Lord God formed man of dust from the ground. (What a good thought to meditate on when we are tempted to applaud our own significance outside of Christ!) So whether God shines His light rays in a darkened shed, across a hospital bed, or in a lonely, forsaken room – or even down the halls of the church itself, we can be like the dust and dance in the light.

Regardless of the dark circumstances or testing we face, no matter how dark the night or grim the news, we can reflect God’s light in that particular situation. We can express praise and joy, and dance as we are carried in the warm current of His love and truth! We can be assured that regardless of the trial or how bleak the future seems, He is always present, always involved, and fully committed to completing His marvelous work in us!

Oh, yes, about the boy in the shed. My grandparents came home, heard my cries, and found one tremendously relieved boy as they unlocked the door and let me out. Okay, so I cried again, but that was a long time ago and I am just a dusty old grandpa myself now. Yet, I am still determined to find God’s purpose and grace in all things – regardless how dense the darkness! I want to focus on His illuminating presence and always be in the light. Oh, that I would continue to follow the Great Shepherd of my soul and fulfill His plan by bringing honor and glorify to Him in all things!

Romans 8:31-33 (NIV)

³¹What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? ³²He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? ³³Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies.

Joshua 1:9 (NIV)

⁹ Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”

Proverbs 3:5-6 (NIV)

⁵ Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; ⁶ in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.

Psalm 9:1-2 (NIV)

¹ I will praise you, O LORD, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonders. ² I will be glad and rejoice in you; I will sing praise to your name, O Most High.