“I believe God made me for a purpose, but He also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure,” said Eric Liddell to his sister Jenny in the movie Chariots of Fire. Eric was a famous Scottish Olympic champion in short distance and a missionary to China. Although his sister was urging him to return to China as soon as possible, he knew God had given him a gift. By choosing to delay his return and run in the 1924 Paris Olympics, Eric was convinced he was honoring God by pursuing his calling as a world-class runner.
I winced the moment I said it. I meant to be funny, but it came out mean. My comment sagged heavy on my heart when I went to bed and was still draped there when I awoke. I thought, My motives were pure, but my words were clumsy. Such self-talk purchased momentary relief, but soon enough the pain of my words began to haunt my heart again. After twenty-four hours of trying to let myself off the hook, I finally admitted what I had known all along. What I said was wrong. I had been a jerk.
Since going through a difficult experience three years ago, I’ve battled subsequent bouts of intense anxiety and fear. Upon learning of my season of struggle, a dear friend encouraged me to memorize, meditate on, and embrace John 10. The passage, she explained, expounds on the Good Shepherd we have in Jesus and calls us to recognize and listen to His voice rather than voices of doubt, darkness, discouragement, and shame.
One of the perks of global travel is moving out of your comfort zone—running into things and people you’d never expect to encounter. I took a trip down the Venezuelan Amazon once, discovering that piranhas are real and that monkey stew isn’t a legend.
Moses was living in Midian, so he was a long way from home in Egypt. A…