Month: September 2025

Our Scripture for today is Psalm 121:1-2 

“I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.”

Picture a classic Western film: the heroes are surrounded with nowhere to run. Just when all seems lost, the cavalry thunders over the hill to save the day. Throughout history, people have experienced this pattern—help arriving from just beyond what they could see.

Psalm 121 tells a different story. Look at the opening verses: “I lift up my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from?” The psalmist asks a question first. He’s looking at those hills, wondering whether help comes from there?

The “answer is “No!” “My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.”

The psalmist’s help doesn’t come from the hills. It comes from the One who made the hills. There’s a world of difference.

When trouble strikes, we too scan the horizon for help: our resources, our connections, our abilities. Sometimes God does use those ordinary means. But the psalmist wants us to understand something deeper: God isn’t limited to the help we can see coming.

As the Maker of heaven and earth, He can use absolutely anything to deliver you. Help might come from an unexpected conversation, an unlikely opportunity, or directly from God’s hand in supernatural ways.

When your hope rests in the hills, in what you can see, your confidence is limited. But when your hope rests in the Maker of the hills, your confidence is as limitless as God Himself.

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

1 John 3:1

“Behold what manner of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God. And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know Him.”

I have experienced this verse firsthand. It was the summer of my sophomore year in college. I was doing hard work in a hot steel foundry. But I knew that it was temporary, and so I had a good spirit about it. I guess my happiness bothered one man who came up to me and said, “You act like you own this plant.” I hearkened back to something that I’d heard before, and answered, “No, I don’t own it, but my father does.” He laughed and started making fun of me by telling others “He said his daddy owns this steel factory.”

I knew something he didn’t know. I knew that my Heavenly Father does own that factory. He was one of those who did not know, and so, he laughed, sure that I was a fool.

That summer in the foundry, I stood in the heat with a joy not rooted in circumstance, but in identity. The world may scoff, not recognizing our peace or confidence, but that’s because it doesn’t know Him. 

As His child, we must live with the confidence of a child of the one who owns everything.

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

Our verse for today is Proverbs 4:23.

“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”

Everything flows from the heart. Not just your emotions. Your words, your choices, your reactions in traffic, your patience with your kids, your generosity with strangers. All of it flows from the wellspring within.

What happens when the heart becomes polluted? When bitterness seeps in, when envy clouds the waters, when fear dams up the flow? The stream slows. The joy dries. The peace evaporates.

That’s why Solomon doesn’t whisper this advice—he shouts it: “Above all else!” Guard your heart like a soldier guarding a treasure. Be vigilant. Be intentional.

So, how do we guard it? By being careful about what we allow in. What you watch, what you listen to, and the voices you believe. Fill your heart with fear, and fear will overflow. Fill your heart with grace, and grace will spill out.

Jesus knew this. He told us the mouth speaks what the heart is full of. He urged us to remain in Him, to let His words remain in us. We guard our hearts best when His Word dwells in our hearts.

And remember, your heart isn’t just yours—it’s God’s dwelling place. He chose it as His home. That makes it holy ground.

So guard your heart. Everything you do comes from what’s inside your heart.

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

Our verse for today is Psalm 42:1.

“As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul longs after You, O God.”

A few years back, I made a bad mistake on a Texas fishing trip. Armed with Cokes and orange soda, my friend and I headed to a beautiful lake under the blazing sun. Notice what I didn’t pack? Water.

For a while, the sodas sufficed. But as that merciless Texas heat bore down, those sweet drinks became worthless. By noon, I found myself drinking straight from the lake. We were desperate, parched, and willing to do anything for relief.

That’s the picture painted in Psalm 42. A thirsty deer doesn’t casually stroll to water; it pants, races, driven by an urgent, all-consuming need. This isn’t polite desire—it’s desperation.

Sometimes life leaves us spiritually parched. Disappointments pile up like kindling. Relationships fracture. Dreams crumble. In those desert moments, our souls cry out with the same intensity as that deer. We discover that nothing—not success, not pleasure, not even good things—can quench our deepest thirst.

Only God can.

He doesn’t just offer a sip of relief; He provides streams of living water. When you feel that familiar spiritual drought creeping in, remember: your thirst isn’t a weakness—it’s pointing you back to the only Source that truly satisfies.

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

A deacon once told me, “Davis, if I were as big as you, I’d go out into the woods and fight bears.” I responded, “Roy, they make little bears.” 

I don’t know how big the bear was, but David was a young shepherd boy when he grabbed a bear by the beard. He said, 

“I caught it by its beard, and struck and killed it,” David told King Saul with matter-of-fact confidence. No boasting. No embellishment. Just simple truth: when danger came, he grabbled it by the beard.

We all have bears. Maybe yours wears the mask of financial worry, relationship struggles, or health concerns. These bears seem enormous, don’t they? They roar loudly enough to drown out everything else.

But here’s what David knew that we often forget: the same God who walked with him in the pasture walks with us in our problems. The God who strengthened David’s grip on that bear’s beard will strengthen our grip on faith when our bears come calling.

David didn’t face that bear alone, and neither do you. The God who shows up on Sunday morning doesn’t clock out on Monday. He’s in your workplace, your hospital room, your difficult conversation. He’s closer than your next breath, stronger than your biggest fear.

So when your bear comes prowling, remember David. Remember his God. Remember yours.

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

Our reading today is Luke 1:19

“I am Gabriel,” replied the angel. “I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news.

Simple words. Profound truth.

Gabriel could have boasted of his celestial rank or heavenly accomplishments. Instead, he offered something far more precious: his job description. “I stand in the presence of God.”

We often fumble through our daily routines, but Gabriel stands in the presence of God.

Angels are messengers—heavenly FedEx workers, if you will. Their job description reads like that wise employer who adds to the employee contract, “and anything else we need you to do.” Need a message delivered to a frightened virgin? Send Gabriel. Need to comfort a shepherd? Dispatch the angels.

But here’s the good part: before Gabriel became a messenger, he was a worshiper. Before he carried God’s words, he heard God’s voice. Before he served in the world, he stood in the presence of God.

The same invitation awaits you. Before you rush into your day, linger in His presence. Before you speak for God, listen to God. Before you serve others, serve him.

Your greatest privilege isn’t what you do for God. It’s where you stand with God—in His presence, loved and accepted, just like Gabriel.

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

Our reading today is Luke 6: verse 12. 

“In those days Jesus went out to the mountain to pray, and He spent the night in prayer to God.”

Prayer can seem like a challenge. I once challenged myself to pray for an entire hour. One hour. Sixty minutes. It felt like climbing Mount Everest in flip-flops. Sadly, my mind wandered and I checked my watch frequently.

It made me wonder how Jesus spent the entire night in prayer? The entire night!

Here’s what I think: Jesus had seen the Father face to face. God wasn’t a distant deity or theological concept—He was real, personal, intimate. When Jesus prayed, He was talking with someone He knew, someone He loved.

But there’s something more. It’s found in one beautiful word: delight.

“Delight yourself in the Lord,” the Psalmist declares (Psalm 37:4). Think of newlyweds gazing into each other’s eyes. That spark, that joy, that sense of wonder—that’s delight. God invites us to feel the same way about Him.

The secret to spending time in prayer isn’t discipline alone, though discipline helps. It’s not duty, though duty has its place. The secret is delight.

When you discover the joy of being in God’s presence, prayer transforms from obligation to celebration.

God isn’t waiting for perfect prayers or eloquent words. He’s waiting for you to find delight in Him. When you do, you’ll discover what Jesus knew—time with the Father flies by.

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

Our scripture today is Psalm 34:8. “Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good. Blessed is the man who trusts in him!”

Recently, I bought a snow cone machine and took it to my son’s house along with some sugar-free cherry syrup. My 2.5-year-old granddaughter loved her first fluffy treat. When they ran out of my syrup, her father used regular sweetened snow cone syrup, and she enjoyed that too. When I brought more sugar-free syrup and she tried it again, she took one bite and spit it out. Having tasted something better, she couldn’t settle for less.

This moment illustrates Psalm 34:8. David invites us to “taste and see” God’s goodness. The Hebrew word for “taste” means to experience something personally and fully.

Many who say God isn’t good have never truly tasted what they’re rejecting. They’ve formed opinions from the outside, through hearsay, or their own brief encounters that barely scratched the surface. But God’s challenge remains: “Try me. Experience me for yourself.”

Consider these questions: Does consistent prayer work? Is worship boring? Can you trust God? If you answered no to any of these, I challenge you to really try them—not halfheartedly, but with genuine, sustained effort.

Just as my granddaughter couldn’t appreciate the difference until she tasted both options, we cannot evaluate God’s goodness without authentic experience. The psalmist’s confidence flows from personal encounter: he has tasted, seen, and knows that the Lord is good.

The invitation stands before us: taste and see for yourself.

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

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Our reading today is Psalm 139: verse 1

“LORD, you have searched me and you know me.”

God knows you. He really knows you.

He knows about that moment you lost your temper. He heard the unkind thought during church. He witnessed every compromise, every shortcut, every failure.

And here’s the wonder: He loves you anyway.

The psalmist uses a remarkable word – “searched.” God has examined every corner of your heart like a prospector mining for gold. There are no surprises that catch Him off guard.

This could terrify us. Complete exposure usually leads to rejection, right? We spend our lives hiding failures behind smiles and Sunday clothes.

But God’s knowledge works differently. He doesn’t search you to condemn you – He searches you to know you. Your failures don’t surprise Him because His love isn’t based on your performance. It’s based on His character.

What freedom this brings! You are fully known and completely loved.

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

As a young man, I felt larger than life; I lifted weights and was brimming with youthful vigor. My brother, who could benchpress more than 400 pounds, was my shadow. With him beside me, I walked with confidence, as if no one would dare challenge me. I didn’t seek fights or act cruelly, but his presence was my armor. God, looking down, must’ve chuckled at my confidence, amused by my trust in human strength.

Psalm 27:1 sings a bolder truth:

“The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?” 

David penned these words amid real dangers! Mighty armies chased him, he fought giants, and his own son betrayed him. Yet, he didn’t lean on swords or soldiers. His anchor was God, the unshakable fortress. 

Life’s storms cast long shadows. Doubt, grief, and uncertainty plague us all. They whisper fear, tempting us to rely on our own frail might. But God is our true stronghold, a refuge no enemy can storm. His light pierces our darkness; His salvation steadies our hearts. When we rest in Him, fear loses its grip. So, stand tall, not in your own power, but in His boundless strength. 

With the Lord as your light, what shadow can dim your courage? Trust Him, and walk unafraid.

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