Devotions

It was the night of the Last Supper, and Jesus was winding down His final conversation with the disciples. Everything He said that evening was with the knowledge that He was about to leave them. He concluded the gathering with an encouraging prayer about things to come—a Church that would overcome and be triumphant; a people whose love for each other would be a testimony to the world; a divine power and authority flowing through His followers; and the glory of the Father resting on His people. These were all things Jesus would give to His Church through the Holy Spirit.

Think about what Jesus had already done. In three years of ministry He had healed the sick; restored eyesight to the blind; raised the dead; miraculously fed huge crowds; preached the good news to the poor; and taught the masses the truth about their heavenly Father. This is an amazing list of accomplishments by the Son through His obedience to the Father’s will.

Christ makes clear that all of this was a result of the Father’s giving nature. In His prayer in John 17, one word (give) comes up more than any other. “Father, you have given me . . . you have given them . . . I have given them.” In the space of 26 verses, Jesus uses some form of the word “give” seventeen times.

The first thing we notice in this amazing prayer is how often and generously the Father gives. It’s in His nature to give good gifts to His children. He listed all that He would give His Son when He sent Him: “I’ll give You the power and authority of My name. I’ll give You the people of the earth. I’ll give You words to speak and works to accomplish. And I will give You My glory.”

In turn, we see that Jesus has the same giving nature as His Father. In fact, His prayer recounts all the things Christ had already given His disciples—and the things He would continue to give! This passage powerfully spotlights the giving nature at the center of God’s heart.

In a sense, that evening Jesus gave the disciples His last will and testament. He was saying, “I established My kingdom by giving. And here’s how I want My kingdom to continue through you.” The last thing He gave His followers before leaving them was a particular calling—the calling to give.

I grew up in an environment where no one expressed emotion. It was simply a question of survival! When I came to know the Lord, so many things changed. I will be eternally grateful for my first years in the faith and for those who so patiently taught me and guided me in my first steps with God. They are my spiritual mothers and fathers and I love them. However, in the mentality of the evangelical church of that era, the same attitude existed: We don’t talk about problems and pain; lift up your head and walk strong; we can do it, go, go, go! And that attitude, now wrapped in Bible verses, persists: “We can do all things . . . rejoice always . . . in everything give thanks . . . lift your eyes . . . lift up your head . . . you’re a soldier! Up! Up! Up!”

Dear friend, when we stand with our head held high, shoulders straight, and eyes toward the sky, His arms are carrying us. Now don’t miss this. When our eyes stare downward and we are weary and beaten, in the desert, through famines and sorrow, despairing because of what has been lost or destroyed, it is written, “Underneath are the everlasting arms.” “A broken reed He will not throw away” (Isaiah 42:3).

The children who played all day on the banks of the lakes where Isaiah grew up (he is the one who gives us this incredible promise) knew this game. They would pick up a reed ever so cautiously, and as they blew into it, a high pitched, flute-like sound would fill the air as the kids laughed and screamed with delight. If the fragile reed broke, it would become useless, so they would throw it away and pick up another one. But God says, “I will not throw away what has been broken.” In essence, He is saying to you, “If your life has lost its melody, its song, if your prayer or praise is gone, if your silence screams for your altar at night, I will restore you. I will come and nurse the reed for as long as it takes, until you have recaptured your music and your joy before me.” 

God says, “I don’t throw people away; I will not give up on you. Build your altar and I will rebuild you. I will not put out the flame that is still burning.”

Claude Houde is the lead pastor of Eglise Nouvelle Vie (New Life Church) in Montreal, Canada. Under his leadership New Life Church has grown from a handful of people to more than 3500 in a part of Canada with few successful Protestant churches.

The Holy Ghost came to Ananias, a godly man living in Damascus. The Spirit instructed him to go to Judas’ house on Straight Street, lay hands on Saul, and restore his sight. Of course, Ananias knew of Saul’s reputation. Yet, here is how the Holy Spirit recommended Saul to Ananias: “Behold, he prayeth” (Acts 9:11).

The Lord was saying, in essence, “Ananias, you will find this man on his knees. He knows you are coming; in fact, he even knows your name, and why you’re being sent to him. And he wants his eyes opened.”

When did Saul receive this inner knowing? How did he receive this vision, this pure word from God? It came through fervent praying and supplication. In fact, I believe the Spirit’s words to Ananias reveal what moved God’s heart about Saul: “Behold, he prayeth.”

Saul had been shut in with God for three days, refusing all food and water. All he wanted was the Lord, so he stayed on his knees all that time, praying and seeking God.

When I was growing up, my preacher father taught me, “God always makes a way for a praying man.” There have been periods in my life when the Lord provided indisputable evidence of this. As a young pastor in Pennsylvania, a deep hunger rose up in me that caused me to pray diligently. Something in my heart told me, “There’s more to serving Jesus than what I’m doing. Oh, Lord, I can’t live so far beneath what I read in Your Word. I’d rather die than live as selfishly as I have.”

So I spent months on my knees—weeping and praying for hours at a time—when finally the Lord called me to go to New York City to minister to gangs and drug addicts. That was several decades ago.

I also was on my knees seeking God with tears and loud crying when he called me back to New York to start a church in Times Square. Once again, the Lord said, “David. I want you to have My mind, My concerns.”

If I have ever heard from God, it did not come through Bible study alone. It came through prayer—seeking God alone. If there is any visible measure of Christ in me, it is because of spending time with Him in the secret place.

The Holy Ghost came to Ananias, a godly man living in Damascus. The Spirit instructed him to go to Judas’ house on Straight Street, lay hands on Saul, and restore his sight. Of course, Ananias knew of Saul’s reputation. Yet, here is how the Holy Spirit recommended Saul to Ananias: “Behold, he prayeth” (Acts 9:11).

The Lord was saying, in essence, “Ananias, you will find this man on his knees. He knows you are coming; in fact, he even knows your name, and why you’re being sent to him. And he wants his eyes opened.”

When did Saul receive this inner knowing? How did he receive this vision, this pure word from God? It came through fervent praying and supplication. In fact, I believe the Spirit’s words to Ananias reveal what moved God’s heart about Saul: “Behold, he prayeth.”

Saul had been shut in with God for three days, refusing all food and water. All he wanted was the Lord, so he stayed on his knees all that time, praying and seeking God.

When I was growing up, my preacher father taught me, “God always makes a way for a praying man.” There have been periods in my life when the Lord provided indisputable evidence of this. As a young pastor in Pennsylvania, a deep hunger rose up in me that caused me to pray diligently. Something in my heart told me, “There’s more to serving Jesus than what I’m doing. Oh, Lord, I can’t live so far beneath what I read in Your Word. I’d rather die than live as selfishly as I have.”

So I spent months on my knees—weeping and praying for hours at a time—when finally the Lord called me to go to New York City to minister to gangs and drug addicts. That was several decades ago.

I also was on my knees seeking God with tears and loud crying when he called me back to New York to start a church in Times Square. Once again, the Lord said, “David. I want you to have My mind, My concerns.”

If I have ever heard from God, it did not come through Bible study alone. It came through prayer—seeking God alone. If there is any visible measure of Christ in me, it is because of spending time with Him in the secret place.

“If any other man thinketh that he hath whereof he might trust in the flesh, I more: circumcised the eighth day, of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, an Hebrew of the Hebrews; as touching the law, a Pharisee; concerning zeal, persecuting the church; touching the righteousness which is in the law, blameless” (Philippians 3:4-6).

Paul was a man who could say, “I once was somebody. All my peers, including my fellow Pharisees, looked up to me. I was a Pharisee among Pharisees, climbing the ladder, and I was considered a holy man, a powerful teacher of the law. I had a reputation in the land and was blameless in the eyes of the people. But when Christ apprehended me, everything changed. The striving, the competing—everything that I thought gave my life meaning—was surrendered. I saw that I had missed the Lord completely.”

Paul had once thought his religious ambitions—his zeal, his competitive spirit, his works, his busyness—were all righteousness. He had thought it was all for God’s glory. Now Christ revealed to him that it was all flesh, all for self.

Therefore, Paul stated, “I laid aside all desire for success and recognition and determined to be a servant.”

“Though I be free from all men, yet have I made myself servant unto all, that I might gain the more” (1 Corinthians 9:19).

Paul saw that Jesus took upon Himself the life of a servant. He was the very Son of God, yet with a servant’s heart. Likewise, Paul knew that he also had been made a son of God, by Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. But, like Jesus, he also desired to be a son with a servant’s heart. So he determined to become a bondservant to Christ and His Church.

Beloved, I, too, know that I am a son of God. Yet, like Paul, I also want the servant heart of Christ. “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5). Having the mind of Christ means going beyond theology. It means submitting our own will to take on Jesus’ concerns.