Our Daily Bread Podcast | Our Daily Bread

It was painful to see my dad losing his memory. Dementia is cruel, taking away all the recollections of people until there’s no remembrance left of the life they lived. One night, I had a dream I believe God used to encourage me. In the dream, He had a small treasure chest in His hands. “All your dad’s memories are safely stored here,” He told me. “I’ll keep them in the meantime. Then one day, in heaven, I’ll return them to him.” In the following years, this dream comforted me whenever my dad didn’t know who I was. I’d be reminded that his disease was temporary. Because he was a child of God, he’d be permanently restored one day. It also helped to remember that Paul described suffering as “light and momentary” (2 Corinthians 4:17). Paul wasn’t underplaying suffering; he himself had suffered much (vv. 7-12). He was emphasizing that in the light of eternity and the future glory that’s ours in Christ, our troubles are light and momentary. All the glorious blessings we already have in Christ and will also one day experience will infinitely outweigh them all (v. 17). Because of God and His promises, we can choose not to lose heart. Even as we suffer, we can live each day in faith, relying on His power to renew us (v. 16). Let’s “fix our eyes” on His eternal promises today (v. 18).

I flew to India, a land I’d never visited, and arrived at the Bengaluru airport after midnight. Though there’d been a flurry of emails, I didn’t know who was picking me up or where I should meet him. I followed the streaming mass of humanity to the baggage claim and customs, then out into the sticky night where I tried to spot a pair of friendly eyes among the sea of faces. For an hour, I walked back and forth in front of the crowd, hoping someone would recognize me. A kind man finally approached. “Are you Winn?” he asked. “I’m so sorry. I thought I’d recognize you, and you kept walking in front of me—but you didn’t look how I expected.” We regularly get confused and fail to recognize people or places we should know. God provides an unmistakable way of recognizing Him, however. He arrived in our world as Jesus, who “is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of [God’s] being” (Hebrews 1:3). Christ is God’s exact representation. When we see Him, we have complete confidence that we are seeing God. If we want to know what God is like—what He would say, how He would love—then we need only look and listen to Jesus. Are we truly hearing what “he has spoken” (v. 2) through Him? Are we actually following His truth? To be sure that we know how to recognize God, we fix our gaze on the Son and learn from Him.

The two men conquered human flight, but the Wright brothers’ journey to success was never easy. Despite countless failures, ridicule, money woes, and serious injury to one of them, the brothers weren’t stopped by the trials they faced. As Orville Wright observed, “No bird soars in a calm.” The idea, according to biographer David McCullough, means that adversity can “often be exactly what you need to give you a lift higher.” Said McCullough, “Their joy was not getting to the top of the mountain. Their joy was climbing the mountain.” The apostle Peter taught a similar spiritual principle to the persecuted early church. He told them, “Do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you” (1 Peter 4:12). This wasn’t a denial of suffering’s pain. Peter knew that hope in Christ grows our trust in God. This is especially true when we suffer for being a believer in Jesus, as those early Christians did. Peter wrote to them, “Rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed” (v. 13). He went on, “If you are insulted because of the name of Christ, you are blessed, for the Spirit of glory and of God rests on you” (v. 14). As the Wright Brothers’ character was hailed by their biographer, may others see God’s loving character at work in us. He uses our adversity to raise us to new heights.

The acclaimed painting Let My People Go by Aaron Douglas uses vibrant colors of lavender, green, and gold, along with traditional African imagery, to tell the biblical story of Moses and connect it with Black Americans’ struggle for freedom and justice. The painting portrays God’s appearance to Moses in a burning bush when he revealed that He’d seen the plight of the Israelites in Egypt. The artist uses a beam of light to symbolize God and His message, “So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt” (Exodus 3:10). In Let My People Go, Moses kneels in obedient submission to God’s instructions, but the eye is drawn to the dark waves and horses trained for war surrounding him—reminding viewers of the struggles the Israelites would face as they left Egypt. But the beam of light shines brightly as a reminder that God would be with the Israelites in their struggle. The emotions evoked by the painting resonate because the struggle against injustice continues; many use their power to oppress men, women, and children around the world. As those suffering cry out for God to be “a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble” (Psalm 9:9), we can plead with God to respond to their cries for help. And, like Moses, we can be willing to act on behalf of the oppressed. How might you pray for oppressed people? How might you learn more about caring for those suffering injustice?