Our Daily Bread Podcast | Our Daily Bread

An Indiana school teacher suggested her students write notes of encouragement and inspiration for their peers in “random acts of kindness.” Days later, when a school tragedy occurred in a different part of the country, their plans took on even more meaning; their notes became a means of buoying the spirits of their fellow students as they dealt with the resulting fear and pain that something could happen to them too. Many of the 5,100 students so cherished the note that they’ve left it taped to their locker as a reminder of the kindness shown. Encouragement and mutual concern were on Paul’s mind too when he wrote the people at Thessalonica. They had lost friends and Paul instructed them to hope in Jesus’s eventual return to bring their loved ones to life again (1 Thessalonians 4:14). While they didn’t know when that would occur, he reminded them that as believers they needn’t wait in fear of God’s judgment when He returned (5:9). Instead, he suggested they wait with confidence in their future life with Him. And in the meantime, they could “encourage one another and build each other up” (v. 11). When we experience painful losses or senseless tragedies, it’s easy to be overcome with fear and sadness. Yet Paul’s words are helpful to us today, just as they were two thousand years ago. Let’s wait in hopeful expectation that Jesus will restore all things. And in the meantime, let’s encourage each other—with written notes, spoken words, acts of service, or a simple hug.

We were seated around the dinner table when my nine-year-old grandson said with a smile, “I’m just like Grandma. I love to read!” His words brought joy to my heart. I thought back to the year before when he’d been sick and stayed home from school. After he took a long nap, we sat together side by side reading. I was happy to be passing along the legacy of loving books that I’d received from my mother. But that’s not the most important legacy I want to pass on to my grandchildren. I pray the legacy of faith I received from my parents and sought to pass on to my children will also help my grandchildren in their journey toward faith. Timothy had the legacy of a godly mother and grandmother—and a spiritual mentor, the apostle Paul. The apostle wrote, “I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also” ((2 Timothy 1:5). We may think our lives haven’t been positive enough to be a good example for others. Maybe the legacy passed down to us wasn’t a good one. But it’s never too late to build a legacy of faith into our children, grandchildren, or any child’s life. Through God’s help, we plant seeds of faith. He’s the one who makes faith grow (1 Corinthians 3:6–9).

If you were to stroll along the old brick wall stretching between the Protestant and Catholic graveyards in Roermond, Netherlands, you’d discover a curious site. On each side, flush against the wall stands two identical towering headstones: one for a Protestant husband and one for his Catholic wife. Cultural rules required they be buried in separate cemeteries. They wouldn’t accept their fate, however. Their unusual headstones are high enough to reach above the fenced obstruction so that at the top there’s maybe only a foot or two of air separating them. Atop each, a sculptured arm reaches out to the other, each clasping the other’s hand. The couple refused to be separated, not even in death. The Song of Songs explains love’s power. “Love is as strong as death,” Solomon says, “its jealousy unyielding as the grave” (8:6). True love is powerful, ferocious. “It burns like a blazing fire” (v. 6). True love never surrenders, won’t be silenced, and can’t be destroyed. “Many waters cannot quench love,” writes Solomon. “Rivers cannot sweep it away” (v. 7). “God is love” (1 John 4:16). Our strongest love is only a fractured reflection of His ferocious love for us. He’s the ultimate source of any love that’s genuine, any love that holds fast.

Looking at my high school yearbook, my grandchildren marveled at outdated hairstyles, clothing, and “old-fashioned” cars in the photos. I saw something different—first the smiles of longtime buddies, some still friends. More than that, however, I saw the keeping power of God. His gentle presence surrounded me in a school where I struggled to fit in. His keeping goodness watched over me—a kindness He grants to all who seek Him. Daniel knew of God’s keeping presence. In his exile in Babylon, he prayed in “his upstairs room where the windows opened toward Jerusalem” (Daniel 6:10) despite the king’s decree not to do so (vv. 7-9). From his prayerful vantage point, Daniel would remember God whose keeping presence sustained him—hearing and answering his prayers. Thus, God would hear, answer, and sustain him again. Yet, despite the new law, Daniel would still seek God’s presence regardless of what might happen to him. And so he prayed just as he had done so many times before. During the night, an angel of the Lord kept Daniel safe as his faithful God rescued him (v. 22). Looking to our past during present trials may help us recall God’s faithfulness. As even King Darius said of God, “He rescues and he saves; he performs signs and wonders in the heavens and on the earth” (v. 27). God was good then, and He is good now. His presence will keep you.