Insight for Today
A Daily Devotional by Pastor Chuck Swindoll

There is something grand about old things that are still in good shape. Old furniture, rich with the patina of age and history, is far more intriguing than the modern stuff. When you sit on it or eat off it or sleep in it, your mind pictures those in previous centuries who did the same in a world of candlelight.

We Christians have too many meetings! Where did we get the idea that our goal in the family of faith should be seeing who can absorb the most information? Since when do we equate spirituality with a numb posterior? Now, don't jump to the conclusion that I'm questioning the value of meeting together.

I don't know where you are today, but I have a sneaky suspicion that you, like me, might have a few intruders crowding into your life and could use some divine reinforcements. If so, don't hesitate to call for help. Tell your Father that you are running out of hope and energy and ideas.

Those three reasons we discussed yesterday cause me to reserve my concluding thoughts for you parents who still have your children under your roof. Let me be painfully and firmly honest with you as I offer three suggestions: First, teach personal responsibility.

A curious phenomenon has plagued families for as long as there have been families. It's that age-old problem of second-generation fallout that breaks the hearts of godly moms and dads. The scenario goes something like this. A man and woman fall in love and get married.

Painful though it may be for us to admit it here in this great land of America, we're losing touch with one another. The motivation to help, to encourage, yes, to serve our fellow-man is waning. People have observed a crime in progress but refused to help so as not to be involved.

Stab, stab. Twist, twist. Did yesterday's questions hit below the belt? Maybe so. But they are the kind of questions that reveal the pulse of your efficiency heartbeat. If you're like I am, life is too busy to add some unrealistic, humongous, impossible-to-achieve-anyway program.

Doing all things "decently and in order" applies to a lot more areas than theology. It's remarkable how many guys who have the ability to articulate the most exacting details and nuances of their area of expertise never get their desks cleared off or their workrooms organized.

Elevators are weird places. You're crammed in with folks you've never met, so you try really hard not to touch them. And nobody talks, except for an occasional "Out, please." You don't look at anyone; in fact, you don't look anywhere but up, watching those dumb floor numbers go on and off.

Some frightening facts have been released by the Planned Parenthood Federation. Their growing concern? Increasing sexual activity among preteen girls. "Agency counselors throughout the country are overwhelmed by these kids," states Dr. Gerry Oliva, medical director for the federation in San Francisco.

Following is an incomplete list of what you have in store after your immorality is found out: Your mate will experience the anguish of betrayal, shame, rejection, heartache, and loneliness. No amount of repentance will soften those blows. Your mate can never again say that you are a model of fidelity.

From all those I have confronted, dealt with, or heard about who have fallen into sexual impurity, two paths led them astray. The first is subtle deception. This is an almost passive series of thoughts which include rationalization, ignoring the warnings of a sensitive conscience.

Leaders with power and brains are common. So are leaders with riches and popularity. But a competent leader full of integrity and skill, coupled with sincerity, is rare indeed. Deception creates suspicion. Once the leader's followers begin to suspect motives . . . the thin wire of respect that holds everything in place snaps.

Thoughts disentangle themselves . . . over the lips and through the fingertips. I learned that saying over thirty years ago, and just about every time I put it to the test, it works! Whenever I have difficulty comprehending the complicated or clarifying the complex, I talk it out or write it out.

The smoky tones of Peggy Lee's voice occasionally blow across my mind: "Is that all . . . is that all there is?" With no bitterness intended, I ask that haunting question in the backwash of certain situations. How much like the tide we are! When our spirits are high, we are flooded with optimism, hope, and expectation.

Floundering with my father is among my most cherished childhood memories. Armed with a beat-up Coleman lantern, two gigs, a stringer . . . we'd head to the water. When the sky got nice 'n' dark, we'd wade in about knee-deep and stumble off into the night.

Various methods are employed to communicate the good news of Christ to the lost. Take the Eager-Beaver Approach, for example. "The more scalps, the better." This numerical approach is decision-centered, and little (if any) effort is directed toward follow-up or discipleship or cultivating a relationship.

One winter day while a Chilean peasant was tending his cattle along a long, deep gorge in a remote area of the Andes, he saw two gaunt, bearded figures across the chasm. Thinking they were terrorists, he ran and hid. The next day he returned and saw they were still there.

Hippocrates was a Greek physician considered by many to be "the Father of Medicine." It is he, you may recall, who wrote the immortal Hippocratic Oath still taken by those entering the practice of medicine. This ancient physician lived somewhere between 450 BC and 375 BC.

Sleep came hard for me last night. Earlier that evening, Cynthia and I had read together a letter from our long-time friend Wally Norling, who had just returned from the bedside of Betty, his "loving partner in life for forty-two years." Betty is dying of cancer of the liver.