Month: August 2025

Half a century ago, when I first heard the phrase, “Life begins at 80,” it meant less to me than it does now that I am 80. This was the story of Moses and how his real story began when he was an old man. But maybe it began long before. Was it when his mother placed him in the Nile? When he grew up in Pharaoh’s palace? Or when he fled Egypt after killing an Egyptian? No!

Moses’ story began in the heart of God. He looked down on His people—broken, enslaved, crying out—and decided to send a deliverer. Among six hundred thousand Israelites, there were surely strong leaders, gifted speakers, bold warriors. But God chose a shepherd who had been hiding for forty years. A man slow with words, reluctant to lead, and quick with excuses.

Four times, Moses told God why he couldn’t do the job. Four times God answered. Finally, Moses simply said, “Please send someone else” (Exodus 4:13). But God didn’t.

Why? Because God isn’t looking for the most impressive résumé. He’s looking for a willing heart—even if it starts out unwilling.

Moses didn’t choose the task. The task chose him. And somewhere along the way, in the middle of fear and resistance, his life began at 80.

Maybe God is calling you a work. Maybe you’ve been ignoring Him. Maybe you’re waiting until you’re “ready.” Don’t. Whatever your age—30, 50, or 80—your story can begin today. And the best part? You won’t go alone. God will walk with you as he did with Moses.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Our reading today is Luke 14:13:

“When you host a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind, and you will be blessed.”

Years ago, Liz and I had a little game. We called it “Who Would You Invite?” The rules were simple: If you could invite anyone from history to dinner, who would it be? There was one catch—no Bible characters. Otherwise, the table would always fill with God, Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. So we left room for George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, maybe and Albert Einstein. It was harmless fun, the kind you play with a smile.

But time has a way of changing the game.

If I played it today, my list would be different. Now, it would be my wife of 55 years, my brother and his wife Sherry, and their son, my dear friend Doug. That would be a wonderful meal, but now they’re all waiting for me in eternity. 

There’s a saying I love: “Every day is a ‘good old day’ when you have enough faith to realize it.” Today counts. So does the dinner you share tonight, no matter who’s at your table.

And as for the feast that awaits us? That one won’t be here. It’ll be when we get Home.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Our reading for today is Matthew 19:26.

“With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

Some words sound too big to be true—until you remember who said them. Jesus wasn’t speaking theory. He was speaking with certainty.

Young David knew this certainty. He walked onto a battlefield where Israel trembled before a giant. The boy heard the roar of Goliath, but he also remembered the whisper of God. King Saul told him he was too small, too young, too inexperienced. But David wasn’t listening to Saul’s opinion—he was remembering God’s record.

“When a lion or a bear came and took a lamb,” David told the king, “I went after it… struck it… and killed it.” He didn’t brag on his skill. He was bragging on his God. If God had been with him against a bear, why not a giant?

That’s how faith works. One victory at a time. Before you face a giant, face the bear. Before the bear, face the wolf. Before the wolf, face the mouse. Small victories prepare you for large battles.

So don’t despise the little tests. Win them with God, and you’ll be ready when the giant steps out. When you’re ready, you’ll find that God has been ready all along.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

What if God whispered to you, “It’s time”? No more tomorrows. No more healing. Just the final chapter. That’s the message King Hezekiah received as he lay on his sickbed. But Hezekiah did something beautiful—he wept. He prayed. And God, rich in mercy, responded.

2 Kings 20:5-6 says, 

“I have heard your prayer and seen your tears; I will heal you… I will add fifteen years to your life.”

Just fifteen years. Not eternity. Not a fountain of youth. But what a gift.

When you’re young, that verse feels ordinary. But as the years gather, it becomes wonderful. What would you do with fifteen more years?

First, I’d give thanks. Gratitude is the melody of grace. To be handed time—precious, numbered time—is to be handed a canvas. Paint it with praise.

Second, I’d think about legacy. What will I leave behind? Solomon left wisdom. Paul left letters. Jesus left love. Legacy isn’t granite etched with “Gone but not forgotten.” It’s the echo of your life in someone else’s soul.

And finally, I’d savor the days. Each sunrise is a divine whisper: “This one’s for you.” Don’t rush past it. Don’t waste it. Enjoy it.

God may not give you fifteen years. He may give you fifteen minutes. But whatever He gives, use it well. Eternity awaits—but today is His gift.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Today’s reading is Matthew 6:9.
“This, then, is how you should pray:
‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name…’”

Before we ask. Before we praise. Before we whisper a single word—Jesus invites us to begin with one truth: God is our Father.

Not a distant deity. Not a cold judge. A Father. And like any good father, He is worthy of honor.

Years ago, I met a woman whose story still echoes in my heart. She grew up in a home where love was unevenly poured. Her mother favored her sisters and left her in the shadows. Yet when her mother grew old and frail, it was this daughter—the overlooked one—who opened her door and her heart.

A friend asked, “Why? After all she did to you?”

Her answer? “Because it’s not about her. It’s about me.”

Honor isn’t earned. It’s chosen. We don’t honor because someone deserves it. We honor because of who we are.

And when it comes to our Heavenly Father, He is always worthy. But even if He weren’t, we would still honor Him because it’s not about Him. It’s about us. About the kind of children we choose to be.

So when you pray, begin with honor. Begin with “Our Father.” Let those words shape your heart. Because honoring Him isn’t just a reflection of who He is—it’s a reflection of who you are.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Today’s reading is Matthew 18:21-22.

“Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother who sins against me? Up to seven times?”

Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.”

Peter thought he was being generous. Seven times? That’s mercy with muscle. But Jesus didn’t blink. “Try seventy-seven.” That’s not math. That’s grace.

Forgiveness isn’t easy. It’s not natural. It’s not quick. If you’ve ever been wounded, you know that some hurts don’t vanish. They linger like shadows at sunset. So how do we forgive that much?

First: Realize that forgiveness takes time.

There’s no verse that erases memory. Wounds heal, but slowly. Scars don’t disappear; they just fade with time.

Second: Know that you don’t forget; you choose not to remember.

Even God, in His omniscience, doesn’t forget like we do when we misplace our keys. He chooses not to recall. He said, “I will remember their sins no more” (Jeremiah 31:34). That’s divine restraint.

I once helped a family move. I took a picture off the wall and found a hole behind it. The wife whispered, “That’s where my husband knocked me into the wall. I just put a picture over it.”

Forgiveness is like that. You don’t pretend the hole isn’t there. You just choose not to stare at it anymore.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Our verse for today is Matthew 7:1.

“Judge not, that you be not judged.”

The one Bible verse that every unrepentant heart knows is, “Judge not that you be not judged.” 

They usually know only the first two words, “Judge not.” 

If you disapprove of their being drunk and they know you are a Christian, the scripture they quote is, “Judge not.” 

Does the Bible really teach us not to judge? Of course not, but a person with only a shallow understanding of the Bible latches on to a little learning and makes something out of it that was never intended. 

Here’s the rest of the rest of the teaching. If you see a person drunk, it is not judgmental to call them drunk. If you see them drunk every day for a month, you are not judging them by saying they have a drinking problem. 

The same Jesus who said, “Judge not,” also said, “You will know them by their fruits.” (Matthew 7:16). It is not judging to see all the fruit ruined and say that the fruit is bad. It is judging to see one rotten apple and say that all the fruit is bad.

So, “Judge not!” But do inspect the fruit and make a good decision. If you don’t, then life will be filled with very hard spots.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Mary stirred at seven. In the first ten minutes, the sun rose, the coffee brewed, and the world spun on. She got up and started her day, but in those quiet ten minutes, somewhere else a man lost his grip on hope and pulled the trigger. Ten minutes later, a woman swallowed every pill she owned, longing for silence. By the end of that hour, six souls had slipped away—each one a story, each one a heartbreak.

Every ten minutes in America, someone chooses to end their life. Not because they want death, but because they can’t find a reason to keep living. Hopeless. Unloved. Alone.

Jesus met someone like that once. A woman with five failed marriages and a heart full of shame. She came to the well at noon, when the sun was high and the crowd was gone. She didn’t want whispers. She wanted water.

Instead, she found Jesus.

He didn’t shame her. He didn’t scold her. He offered her living water. Grace. Purpose. A reason to live.

Her story is in John 4. And it’s not just her story—it’s ours because we all come to wells. We all thirst. And Jesus waits.

To some, he’s just a man at the well. To others, he’s the Savior who changes everything.

The choice is ours. And eternity leans in, listening.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Our reading for today is Luke 17:5-6.

The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” 

And the Lord answered, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you.”

“Increase our faith!” the disciples pleaded. What a refreshing prayer. Here were the chosen twelve, the inner circle, the ones who walked dusty roads with the Son of God—and they knew something was missing.

Their honesty gives us hope. Faith isn’t a one-time pill that arrives complete and perfect. It’s more like a seed that sprouts, stretches, and strengthens over time. The disciples understood this. They recognized their faith needs room to grow.

How comforting to know that even apostles struggled with faith. Peter sank in the waves. Thomas demanded proof. The eleven hid behind locked doors. Their struggles don’t disqualify them—they humanize them.

But notice where they turned. They didn’t enroll in a self-help seminar or practice positive thinking. They went straight to Jesus. “Increase our faith,” they asked the only One who could. Faith isn’t something we manufacture; it’s something we grow toward..

Today, when your faith feels small, remember the apostles’ prayer. Turn to the same Source they did. He who began a good work in you will complete it. Your faith can grow.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Our reading for today is Mark 9:1-15.

One moment, they’re on the mountaintop, witnessing Jesus in blazing glory, conversing with Moses and Elijah. The air is thin, holy, electric with God’s presence. Peter wants to build tents and stay forever. Who wouldn’t?

But Jesus leads them down. Down from the clouds into the chaos. Down from the divine dialogue into earthly discord. At the mountain’s base, a desperate father waits with his tormented son. The remaining disciples stand helpless, their faith insufficient for the task.

Sound familiar? Sunday’s worship service fills your heart with heaven’s song, but Monday’s meetings drain your soul. A powerful prayer retreat lifts your spirit, and then you return home to sick children and unpaid bills. The mountain was real. The valley is also.

Here’s what the disciples learned that day: God doesn’t give us mountaintop moments to make us comfortable; He gives them to prepare us for valley work. The glory we glimpse above equips us for the battles below. The transfigured Christ who blazes with heaven’s light is the same Christ who heals broken hearts.

Don’t despise the valley, friend. That’s where people hurt. That’s where faith gets tested and muscles grow stronger. That’s where transfigured lives make the biggest difference.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.