In the book of Numbers, Balaam, a prophet summoned by King Balak, faced repeated attempts to curse Israel for a reward. Balak, the king of Moab, saw the growing strength of Israel and feared what might come next. So he sent messengers to Balaam with a request: curse these people for me. Balaam’s response seemed noble enough.
“Though Balak were to give me his house full of silver and gold, I could not go beyond the command of the Lord my God to do less or more.” (Numbers 22:18 ESV).
Balak, undeterred, sent even more distinguished officials with promises of greater reward. Once again, Balaam stood firm—at least on the surface. He could only say what the Lord allowed him to say. And when he finally stood before Balak, the king eager to see Israel cursed, Balaam spoke words of blessing instead.
“And Balak said to Balaam, ‘What have you done to me? I took you to curse my enemies, and behold, you have done nothing but bless them.” (Numbers 23:11 ESV).
So far, Balaam appeared righteous. He had spoken the Lord’s words, refusing to pronounce a curse on God’s people. But his heart told a different story. His refusal to openly defy God did not mean he wasn’t willing to work against Him.
We learn later that Balaam found a way to earn his reward after all—not by cursing Israel himself, but by advising Balak on how to bring about their downfall.
“Behold, these, on Balaam’s advice, caused the people of Israel to act treacherously against the Lord in the incident of Peor.” (Numbers 31:16 ESV).
Balaam knew he couldn’t curse what God had blessed. But he also knew something else: if the people of Israel fell into sin, they would bring God’s judgment upon themselves. So, he advised Balak to lead them into idolatry and immorality, knowing it would accomplish the very thing Balak wanted all along.
This is what Jesus warned about in His letter to the church in Pergamum:
“But I have a few things against you: you have some there who hold the teaching of Balaam, who taught Balak to put a stumbling block before the sons of Israel.” (Revelation 2:14 ESV).
The issue wasn’t just about direct disobedience. It was about indirect corruption—putting a stumbling block before others, encouraging sin in ways that don’t look obvious at first glance. Balaam didn’t curse Israel outright, but he showed Balak how to make them stumble.
The same warning applies to us. It’s not always about what we refuse to do, but what we permit, encourage, or turn a blind eye to. It’s possible to hold to God’s commands in words while undermining them in practice.
Proverbs warns us about those who plot evil in the shadows:
“There are six things that the Lord hates, seven that are an abomination to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil.” (Proverbs 6:16-18 ESV).
David, too, knew what it was like to suffer at the hands of those who plotted in secret:
“They make their tongue sharp as a serpent’s, and under their lips is the venom of asps.” (Psalm 140:3 ESV).
And Proverbs gives a strong warning:
“My son, if sinners entice you, do not consent.” (Proverbs 1:10 ESV).
But what does this look like in our own lives?
Sometimes, it’s easier to avoid direct wrongdoing while still finding ways to benefit from it. Maybe we know a business deal is dishonest, but we don’t personally lie—we just let someone else handle the shady part. Maybe we avoid gossip, but we listen with interest, giving it a silent platform to thrive. Maybe we would never steal, but we suggest ways for someone else to work around the system to benefit us.
Other times, we actively encourage others to do wrong for our benefit, even if we don’t personally engage in it. In business, we might not manipulate data ourselves, but we might suggest a colleague take shortcuts to help a project succeed. In academics, we might not cheat, but we might push a group member to plagiarize so the entire project receives a higher grade. In personal relationships, we might never tell a direct lie, but we might encourage a friend to be deceitful in a way that benefits us.
Or maybe we simply remain silent. We see a friend slipping into destructive choices, but we don’t say anything because we don’t want to create tension. We see dishonesty in the workplace, but we stay quiet because we don’t want to stand out. We watch as our children drift into the world’s ways, but we avoid difficult conversations because we don’t want to push them away.
Balaam’s story is a sobering one because it reminds us that words and actions don’t always tell the full story. He said all the right things, but his heart still led him into sin. He obeyed God’s direct command, yet he found a way around it when it suited him.
And in the end, Balaam met his end among the enemies of Israel (Numbers 31:8). He wasn’t remembered for standing firm in obedience—he was remembered for using his influence to lead others into sin.
So we must ask ourselves: are we truly walking in obedience, or are we finding ways around it? Are we upholding righteousness not just in word, but in heart and in practice?
Let us not be like Balaam, who sought to serve both God and his own desires. Instead, let us live with integrity, guiding others toward righteousness, and resisting any form of compromise that puts a stumbling block before our brothers and sisters.
“Then Pilate took Jesus and flogged him.” (John 19:1 ESV).
Perhaps one of the most understated verses in all of Scripture.
Some historians tell us that what they did to Jesus when they scourged Him was unlike anything done to other criminals.
Dr. Jeremiah J. Johnston, an expert on early Christianity, historical Jesus studies, and resurrection research, said this about Jesus’ scourging and its effect on His death:
“Pilate is shocked based on the historical record that Jesus had died so quickly. Jesus dies in six hours, which shows you the particular brutality that He went through in the scourging and also the beating in the house of Caiaphas.”
Dr. Johnston continues,
“Jesus dies in a particularly demonic, shameful, heinous way. He’s brutalized as He goes to the cross.”
After this torturous beating, Pilate presented a mangled, broken Savior to the crowd, perhaps hoping it would be enough.
“Pilate went out again and said to them, ‘See, I am bringing him out to you that you may know that I find no guilt in him.’
So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, ‘Behold the man!” (John 19:4-5 ESV).
Maybe Pilate thought that if they saw Jesus in this condition, their hearts would soften. Maybe he hoped their humanity would overcome their hatred. After all, who could look on such cruelty and still call for more?
But the demonic nature of this moment was not only in the physical torment Jesus endured — it was also in the rejection of His own creation. His image bearers — those He had come to save — looked at the shattered body of the Son of God and cried for more blood.
Pilate tried to wash his hands of the matter.
“Take him yourselves and crucify him, for I find no guilt in him.” (John 19:6 ESV).
But they wouldn’t take responsibility. They threw Jesus back upon Pilate. So Pilate brought Jesus inside, away from the angry mob, and tried to reason with Him, looking for any way out of this tragedy. But Jesus said little. In that moment, Pilate knew. He knew Jesus was innocent.
“From then on Pilate sought to release him.” (John 19:12 ESV).
But it was too late.
The crowd wanted blood. They wanted death. And there, in front of them, stood the shattered, broken body of their King — the King of the Jews — beaten and disfigured beyond recognition.
Pilate’s last efforts failed.
“So he delivered him over to them to be crucified. So they took Jesus,
and he went out, bearing his own cross, to the place called The Place of a Skull, which in Aramaic is called Golgotha.
There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, and Jesus between them.” (John 19:16-18 ESV).
There would be no deliverance. No compassion. No mercy.
Not for Jesus.
But for us? For us, there would be deliverance. For us, there would be compassion. For us, there would be salvation.
Bought with His blood.
May we never doubt the depth of His love for us — a love that endured such torment.
And may we never let that one-of-a-kind, demonic torture He suffered have no impact on us.
If He gave everything for us, how can we not give everything to Him?
May our faith be more than belief — may it be a living, breathing allegiance that compels us to lay down our lives for Him in return.
The thief on the cross mocked Jesus at first, but in his final moments, he saw the truth and asked for mercy.
It’s never too late to turn to Jesus.
The Prodigal Son lived recklessly, wasted his inheritance, and found himself in a pigsty before realizing he belonged in his father’s house.
Rock bottom often leads to the Father’s arms.
King Ahab did more evil than any king before him, yet when Elijah prophesied his downfall, he humbled himself in sackcloth.
Even the worst can repent—but will they stay repentant?
Naaman was a powerful general who refused to believe that washing in the Jordan could heal his leprosy—until his servants urged him to obey.
Pride almost kept him from his miracle.
Five examples we can dwell on. Which one speaks to where you are today?
Caleb – At 85 years old, he said, “Give me this mountain.” Faith doesn’t retire—it keeps claiming God’s promises.
Hannah – She wept, she prayed, and she surrendered her greatest desire to God. Sometimes, the answer to our prayers comes through surrender.
Daniel – He prayed with his windows open, knowing the cost. Conviction isn’t real until it’s tested.
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego – They stood firm, and God stood with them in the fire. Faith doesn’t always keep us from trials, but it keeps us through them.
John the Baptist – He prepared the way for Jesus and said, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” True greatness is found in making more of Christ, not ourselves.
I love this verse:
“If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared.” (Psalm 130:3-4 ESV).
If God kept a record of all my sins—every failure, every wrong thought, every time I fell short—I would have no hope of standing before Him. None of us would.
But He doesn’t.
Because of His mercy, there is forgiveness. Because of His love, there is grace. And because of Jesus, we are free.
Free to stand before Him. Free to approach Him in confidence—not because we are worthy, but because He has made us clean.
And this is our only hope on that great Day when He will judge the world.
“So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” (John 8:36 ESV).
May we live in that freedom today—not as those crushed by guilt, but as those who walk humbly and gratefully, knowing the price that was paid.
I am in the book of Jonah in my daily Bible reading. This is a book where a storm, a great fish, boundless mercy, and anger at God’s goodness for others take center stage.
But in today’s reading, I was struck by the disposition of the sailors on the ship to Tarshish. They woke up one day with the unfortunate lot of having a fleeing prophet as a passenger.
“But the LORD hurled a great wind upon the sea, and there was a mighty tempest on the sea, so that the ship threatened to break up.
Then the mariners were afraid, and each cried out to his god. And they hurled the cargo that was in the ship into the sea to lighten it for them. But Jonah had gone down into the inner part of the ship and had lain down and was fast asleep.
So the captain came and said to him, ‘What do you mean, you sleeper? Arise, call out to your god! Perhaps the god will give a thought to us, that we may not perish.’” (Jonah 1:4-6 ESV).
These hardened sailors were terrified by a storm of biblical proportions. They did all that their experience and training demanded to survive the night.
But this storm was from God. It would not settle down until the God of all mankind dictated it to be so.
When the sailors realized that nothing they could do would calm the raging sea, they cast lots — and in that action, God made it clear who was to blame. The lot fell to Jonah.
We know the story. Jonah admitted he was running from God and told them if they wanted to survive, they would have to sacrifice him to the angry sea.
But what amazes me is their reaction.
“Nevertheless, the men rowed hard to get back to dry land, but they could not, for the sea grew more and more tempestuous against them.” (Jonah 1:13 ESV).
Say what you want about these pagan men — they seemed to have good hearts. The last thing they wanted to do was take a man’s life. They kept trying to beat the storm, refusing to give up on him.
Only when it became clear that they would all perish did they make the heartbreaking decision to throw Jonah overboard. But before they did, listen to what they said to Jonah’s God:
“Therefore they called out to the LORD, ‘O LORD, let us not perish for this man’s life, and lay not on us innocent blood, for you, O LORD, have done as it pleased you.’” (Jonah 1:14 ESV).
We live in a world where we see the absolute worst of mankind on display — people harming and killing each other without a second thought. One man pushes another onto the tracks of an oncoming train. Another beats an elderly woman and steals her purse. Sometimes people commit violence with no reason at all.
But in Jonah, we see a glimmer of hope. Here are men who seem to have a good and fair-minded heart.
Even today, there are people like those sailors — people who are ripe for harvest. People whose hearts are ready when they finally encounter the living God.
When these sailors witnessed the power of the Creator of all, this was their response:
“Then the men feared the LORD exceedingly, and they offered a sacrifice to the LORD and made vows.” (Jonah 1:16 ESV).
Good and honest hearts are found in the most unlikely places. Let us cast the Gospel seed far and wide. We never know where it may land. Perhaps it will fall on the hearts of hardened pagans who are humbled when they come face to face with Jesus.
I am in the book of 1 Corinthians in my daily Bible reading. It’s easy for us to glance at this letter and quickly say, “Wow, those Corinthians really had issues!” If we were visitors at their Sunday gathering, we might even be tempted to quietly slip out the back door after observing some of the behaviors Paul had to correct. And honestly, who could blame us?
But when we slow down and really let this letter sink in, it’s actually deeply encouraging. Here we see clearly that God doesn’t give up on imperfect people. Even with all their struggles, mistakes, and messy problems, Paul calls them God’s own—the saints at Corinth. They were His beloved children, flaws and all.
Now, that doesn’t mean God approved of their mistakes or overlooked their sins. Paul didn’t hesitate to lovingly but firmly point out what they needed to stop doing—and start doing—to truly grow as citizens of God’s kingdom. Paul’s correction came from a place of love and hope.
You see, God isn’t seeking perfect people. He desires imperfect people willing to let His Spirit reshape and mold them. He’s looking for hearts that remain pliable in His hands, people who know they need grace, people who hunger to grow beyond what they are right now.
Through His living and powerful Word, God places us gently but purposefully on the Potter’s wheel, patiently transforming our brokenness into vessels that shine for His glory.
And sometimes—just like with the Corinthians—God might need to send more than one letter our way to get our attention. But isn’t it comforting to know that He cares enough not to cut His losses and walk away? Instead, He patiently writes, patiently teaches, patiently transforms.
So, let’s embrace the encouragement found in 1 Corinthians today. No matter how messy our lives might be, Jesus isn’t finished with us yet. He’s committed to shaping us into something beautiful—something amazing—for His glory.
Here is an interesting fact I just uncovered. Joseph was called the “son of Jacob’s old age,” and I’ve always pictured his older brothers as mature, hardened men when they sold the 17-year-old Joseph into slavery. But when we closely examine the Scriptures, a different picture emerges.
Let’s follow Jacob’s timeline:
Jacob spent a total of 20 years serving his uncle Laban.
First, Jacob served 14 years to marry Leah and Rachel (Genesis 29:18, 27-28). Afterward, he served an additional 6 years, working for his flocks and wages (Genesis 31:41).
During this time, Leah quickly gave birth to Jacob’s first four sons: Reuben, Simeon, Levi, and Judah (Genesis 29:31-35). Given that Jacob married Leah after the first 7 years (Genesis 29:21-23), Reuben was likely born about a year into the second 7-year period—approximately year 8 of Jacob’s total 20 years of service.
Rachel, on the other hand, was barren for many years until God finally blessed her with Joseph’s birth, recorded clearly in Genesis 30:22-25. Immediately after Joseph’s birth, Jacob intended to leave Laban and return to his homeland:
“As soon as Rachel had borne Joseph, Jacob said to Laban, ‘Send me away, that I may go to my own home and country.’” (Genesis 30:25 ESV).
However, Jacob didn’t leave right away. Laban convinced him to stay and work for wages, extending Jacob’s stay another 6 years (Genesis 30:27-28; 31:41). This confirms Joseph was born right at the end of the initial 14-year period.
Here’s where it gets interesting: Reuben, Jacob’s oldest son, was born roughly in the 8th year, and Joseph around the 14th year. This means Reuben was only about 6 years older than Joseph. If Joseph was 17 when he was betrayed, Reuben—the eldest—would have been around 23, and the other brothers even younger, perhaps between 18 and 22.
This sheds new light on the story. Joseph wasn’t betrayed by hardened, mature men, but by a group of young men barely out of their teens. It changes how we see their impulsiveness, jealousy, and cruelty.
Years later, as mature adults facing hardship in Egypt, these same brothers reflected with deep regret on their youthful sin. Reuben lamented:
“And Reuben answered them, ‘Did I not tell you not to sin against the boy? But you did not listen. So now there comes a reckoning for his blood.’” (Genesis 42:22 ESV).
Can you hear the remorse in his voice? It was the haunting memory of a youthful mistake that followed him into adulthood. Indeed, the choices we make when we’re young can have profound, lasting consequences.
This calls to mind the wisdom of Solomon:
“Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near of which you will say, ‘I have no pleasure in them.’” (Ecclesiastes 12:1 ESV).
May we all learn from this, recognizing that even our early decisions can leave deep marks upon our hearts, shaping our future in ways we may not yet see.