Insight for Today
A Daily Devotional by Pastor Chuck Swindoll

Are you attractive? I'm not referring to external beauty nor facial features. I'm asking if you are attractive—magnetic, winsome, charming, friendly. Listen to Proverbs 18:24a (KJV): A man that hath friends must show himself friendly. Do you see the point of the proverb? To have friends we must be friendly.

Nine-year-old Danny came bursting out of Sunday school like a wild stallion. His eyes were darting in every direction as he tried to locate either his mom or dad. Finally, after a quick search, he grabbed his daddy by the leg and yelled, "Man, that story of Moses and all those people crossing the Red Sea was great!"

It is almost 10:00, Monday night. The children are snoozing and snoring upstairs (or they should be!). Aside from a few outside noises—a passing car . . . a barking dog . . . a few, faint voices in the distance—all's quiet on the home front. That wonderful, much-needed presence has again come for a visit—quietness.

"There lies the most perfect ruler of men the world has ever seen . . . [and] now he belongs to the ages." Of whom was this said? One of the Caesars? No. Napoleon? No. Alexander the Great? No. Eisenhower? Patton? MacArthur . . . or some earlier military strategist like Grant or Lee or Pershing? No, none of the above.

"It is impossible to overemphasize the immense need humans have to be really listened to, to be taken seriously, to be understood. No one can develop freely in this world and find a full life without feeling understood by at least one other person. . . . Listen to the conversations of our world, between nations as well as those between couples."

I know of no other single practice in the Christian life that's more rewarding, practically speaking, than memorizing Scripture. That's right. No other single discipline is more useful and rewarding than this. No other single exercise pays greater spiritual dividends! Your prayer life will be strengthened.

Like silent shadows, the heroes of the faith pass beside us, pointing us toward the upward way, whispering words of courage. The memory of all those models of righteousness now gone from view puts needed steel in our spirit, prompting us to press forward, always forward.

It doesn't take a Rhodes scholar to guess the country, though the towns may sound strange: Offenbach, Darmstadt, Mannheim, Coburg, Heidelberg, Worms. . . . The land of beer steins, sauerkraut, liverwurst, and black bread; cuckoo clocks and overflowing flower boxes; wide, winding rivers and deep green woods.

I honestly believe that "forgetting" is the hardest part of "forgiving." Forgetting is something shared with no other person. It's a solo flight. And all the rewards are postponed until eternity . . . but how great they will be on that day! Forgetting requires the servant to think correctly which means our full focus must be on the Lord and not on humanity.

Maybe it's because I'm soon to have another birthday. Maybe it's because I'm a granddad several times over. Or maybe it's because of a struggling young seminarian I met recently who wishes he had been higher on his parents' priority list than, say, fifth or sixth.

Stories transport us into another world. They hold our attention. They become remarkable vehicles for the communication of truth and meaningful lessons that cannot be easily forgotten. If a picture is better than a thousand words, a story is better than a million!

High-tech times lead to high-stress tension. The never-ending drive for more, mixed with the popular tendency to increase production and intensify involvement, leaves most folks in the workplace not only exhausted but dissatisfied. Instead of Saturday being a change-of-pace day, it has become an opportunity to squeeze in a second job.

Jesus opened a five-gallon can of worms the day He preached His Sermon on the Mount. There wasn't a Pharisee within gunshot range who wouldn't have given his last denarius to have seen Him strung up by sundown. They hated Him because He refused to let them get away with their phony religious drool!

Few things turn our crank faster than being around big-minded, enthusiastic, broad-shouldered visionaries. They are positive, on the move, excited about exploring new vistas, inspired, and inspiring. While others are preoccupied with tiny tasks and nit-picking squabbles, these people see opportunity in every difficulty and helpful lessons in every setback.

Those servants who refuse to get bogged down in and anchored to the past are those who pursue the objectives of the future. People who do this are seldom petty. They are too involved in getting a job done to be occupied with yesterday's hurts and concerns.

Average life spans are shorter than most of us realize. For instance, a face-lift lasts only six to ten years; a dollar bill lasts for only eighteen months; a painted line on the road remains only three to four months; and a tornado seldom lasts more than ten minutes.

A time-honored, effective method of evangelism is your personal testimony. Just telling about your spiritual pilgrimage. The skeptic may deny your doctrine or attack your church, but he cannot honestly ignore the fact that your life has been cleaned up and revolutionized. Now I'm not talking about some stale, dragged-out verbal marathon.

One of George Bernard Shaw's statements frequently flashes through my mind: "Liberty means responsibility. That is why most men dread it." In a day when most people pass the buck with merely a shrug, those words bite and sting. It's one thing to sing and dance to liberty's tunes, but it's something else entirely to bear the responsibility for paying the band.

Ah, those predicaments . . . life is full of them. Often they are of our own making. Other times they just seem to happen mysteriously to us. Occasionally, predicaments are comical or borderline crazy. Sometimes they can be irritating and troublesome. But one thing is for sure: Predicaments are unpredictable.

I ran across the word "gumption" again while reading Robert Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Singing the praises of all that gumption represents, he wrote: "I like the word gumption because it's so homely and so forlorn and so out of style it looks as if it needs a friend and isn't likely to reject anyone who comes along."