Insight for Today
A Daily Devotional by Pastor Chuck Swindoll

If I choose not to risk, if I go the "safe" route and determine not to promote either salvation by grace or a lifestyle of grace, what are the alternatives? Four points come to my mind, all of which are popular these days.

Is grace risky? You bet your life it is. I am well aware that this issue of grace is indeed controversial; especially when I am calling for a new awakening to the freedom Christians have in Christ. A few will take what I write about grace and go crazy with it.

For the next few moments, graze slowly over this paragraph of truth recorded by Paul in the letter to the Ephesians. Take your time. Don't hurry.

Most people I know look forward to payday. You do too, right? For a week, or perhaps a two-week period, you give time and effort to your job. When payday arrives, you receive a hard-earned, well-deserved paycheck.

My plea is that we not limit grace to Christ. We, too, can learn to be just as gracious as He. And since we can, we must, not only in our words and in great acts of compassion and understanding but in small ways as well.

We use grace to describe many things in life: a well-coordinated athlete or dancer; good manners and being considerate of others; beautiful, well-chosen words; consideration and care for other people.

What exactly is grace? And is it limited to Jesus' life and ministry? You may be surprised to know that Jesus never used the word itself. He just taught it and, equally important, He lived it.

Candidly, I know of nothing that has the power to change us from within like the freedom that comes through grace. It's so amazing it will change not only our hearts but also our faces.

This day—this very moment—millions are living their lives in shame, fear, and intimidation who should be free, productive individuals. The tragedy is they think it is the way they should be.

It happened in a large, seventy-five-year-old stone house on the west side of Houston. A massive stairway led up to several bedrooms. The den down below was done in rough-hewn boards with soft leather chairs.

Leadership is influence. To the extent we influence others, we lead them. If I were asked to name some of the standard qualities or characteristics usually found among natural-born leaders, I would list: Enthusiasm, Optimism, . . .

I was on a scriptural safari. Prowling through the Ephesian letter, I was tracking an elusive, totally unrelated verse when God's sharp sword flashed, suddenly slicing me to the core: ". . . speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs."

We were rapidly descending through a night of thick fog at 200 miles per hour, but the seasoned pilot of the twin-engine Aero Commander was loving every dip, roll, and lurch.

I'm writing these words [originally] soon after my birthday. No big deal . . . just another stabbing realization that I'm not getting any younger. I know that because the cake won't hold all the candles. Even if it could the frosting would melt.

Growing old, like taxes, is a fact we all must face. Now, you're not going to get me to declare when growing up stops and growing old starts—not on your life! But there are some signs we can read along life's journey.

Leonard Holt was a paragon of respectability. He was a middle-aged, hard-working lab technician who had worked at the same Pennsylvania paper mill for nineteen years. . . . He was admired as a model in his community.

The longer I live the less I know for sure. That sounds like 50% heresy . . . but it's 100% honesty. In my younger years I had a lot more answers than I do now. Things were absolutely black and white, right or wrong, yes or no.

"Self-praise," says an ancient adage, "smells bad." In other words, it stinks up the works. Regardless of how we prepare it, garnish it with little extras, slice and serve it up on our finest silver piece, the odor remains.

Somebody copied the following paraphrase from a well-worn carbon in the billfold of a thirty-year veteran missionary. With her husband, she was on her way to another tour of duty at Khartoum, Sudan. No one seems to know who authored it.

My high school graduating class had its thirtieth anniversary reunion a number of summers ago. I'm sure they had a ball. A blast would better describe it, knowing that crowd.