Insight for Today
A Daily Devotional by Pastor Chuck Swindoll

We don't hear much about gumption anymore. Too bad, since we need it more than ever these days. I was raised on gumption (my parents also called it "spizzerinctum")—as were my own children, especially when I was trying to motivate them.

Jesus tells us to stop praying for forgiveness until we've made things right with people we need to forgive or ask forgiveness from. I believe most of us try to do that. But what if it is impossible for me to reconcile because the offended person has died? It's impossible to get a hearing, but your conscience remains seared.

This thing called life is an awfully long journey. For some, it seems an endless trip, filled with thankless responsibilities and relentless tasks, disappointments and deadlines, and daily demands. Being imperfect doesn't help. Every so often we make stupid decisions. We say things we wish we could retrieve.

Be honest now, can you keep a secret? When privileged information passes through one of the gates of your senses, does it remain within the walls of your mind, or is it only a matter of time before a leak occurs? Do you respect a person's trust or ignore it, either instantly or ultimately?

When it comes to mistakes, we need a great deal of tolerance. And a sense of humor doesn't hurt, either. I ran across an embarrassing mistake recently in the sports section of the newspaper. A volleyball coach was being featured, and the article went on and on about her background . . . and style of coaching.

Leading can be awfully lonely and terribly frustrating. I haven't always believed that. Fact is, when I was a starry-eyed seminary student back around '59 and '60, I had this crazy idea that a leader lived a charmed life. Especially a spiritual leader. My fantasy included contented people, smiling and grateful.

Try to make time this weekend to read the entire book of Job, for only then do you really see the true extent of Job's honest dealings with God and his steadfast faith in the face of adversity. Then, honestly look at your own life and your own dealings with the Lord.

Step into the time tunnel with me, and let's travel together back to Uz (not the wizard of, but the land of). Wherever it was, Uz had a citizen who was respected by everyone. Why? Because he was blameless, upright, God-fearing, and clean living.

Shortly after World War II, the saddest sight for American soldiers who were picking up the pieces in ravaged Europe, was that of little orphaned children starving in the streets of those war-torn cities. One soldier driving along in his jeep spotted a little lad with his nose pressed to the window of a pastry shop.

There we sat, a cluster of six. A stubby orange candle burned at the center of our table flickering eerie shadows across our faces. One spoke; five listened. Every question was handled with such grace, such effortless ease. Each answer was drawn from deep wells of wisdom, shaped by tough decisions and nurtured by time.

Well, we are nine months into the year. Throughout the past months we've reaffirmed the significance of pacing ourselves and not allowing the tyranny of the urgent to blind us to the value of the important. Well . . . how's it going? Pause long enough to review and reflect as you answer these questions.

Nothing touches the human heart deeper than music. This is never more true than when a group of Christians sings heartily unto their Lord. Many a cold heart on skid row has melted as the strains of some old hymn lingered in steamy streets and sleazy alleys surrounding a gospel mission.

A young fella rushed into a service station and asked the manager if he had a pay phone. The manager nodded, "Sure, over there." The boy pushed in some change, dialed, and waited for an answer. Finally, someone came on the line. "Uh, sir, . . . could you use an honest, hardworking young man to work for you?"

How do you feel about intrusions? Like an early-morning knock at your door? Like a talkative passenger next to you on a packed-out flight? Like an injury or illness that strikes at the wrong time? Like the piercing ring of the telephone? Like the relentless, endless demands of small children?

If you question your depravity, check your attitude toward intrusions. Having a French origin, "intrude" emerges from two terms, meaning "to thrust in." An intrusion, therefore, is someone or something that thrusts itself into our world without permission, without an invitation, and refuses to be ignored.

Can you recall Jesus' radical philosophy: "Be a servant, give to others"? The basis of that statement is tucked away in Luke 9:23. Following Christ is a costly, unselfish decision. He says: "If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow Me."

I heard a statistic the other day that blew my mind. Anna Sklar, the author of a book called Runaway Wives, was a guest on a local talk show. In the course of the discussion, she cited that ten years ago, for every wife or mother who walked away from her home and responsibilities, six hundred husbands and fathers walked out.

Paul found himself between a rock and a hard place. He wanted to be in heaven but needed to be on earth. In a temporal sort of way, I share the same frustration every year on Super Bowl Sunday. . . . Now don't get me wrong. I love to preach. It's one of the few things I'd rather do than eat—as my wife can testify.

We salute visionaries of yesteryear. We shake our heads in amazement as we imagine the herculean courage it took to stand so confidently when the majority frowned so sternly. Looking back, we laud those who refused to take no for an answer. We quote them with gusto. We even name our children after them.

Micah isn't exactly a household word. Too bad. Though obscure, the ancient prophet had his stuff together. Eclipsed by the much more famous Isaiah, who ministered among the elite, Micah took God's message to the streets. Micah had a deep suspicion of phony religion.