Month: September 2025

I turned into the driveway to my office. A snake crossed my path. For a second, I thought I could do like the people on television and catch the snake. I saved that thought for another day. The next day, I left my office and stepped onto the concrete steps. Suddenly, there was that snake. I ran in one direction, and it slithered in the other. We were both afraid.

That is also the story of Moses. At the burning bush, Moses tried to avoid what God was calling him to do, so God sent him a snake! He commanded Moses to throw his staff onto the ground. “So he threw it on the ground, and it became a serpent.” “And Moses ran from it.” (Exodus 4).

Of course he did!

Our story continues. God told Moses, “Put out your hand and catch it by the tail. He put out his hand and caught it, and it became a staff in his hand.” Don’t miss the sequence. He ran. God told him to pick the snake up. He stopped running and picked up the snake. After he picked it up, “it became a staff in his hand.”

I don’t mind picking up a snake if God will turn it into a stick before I pick it up. 

Sometimes, however, God asks us to reach for the very thing that terrifies us—that difficult conversation, that risky step of obedience, that uncertain future. He whispers, “Trust Me. Pick it up.” Not because He’ll fix it before you grab it, but because He’ll help once it’s in your hands.

Often, life makes perfect sense looking backward. But it must be lived looking forward.

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

In approximately 1250 B.C., God sent frogs to Egypt. It was a plague. Frogs in the flour. Frogs in the beds. Frogs everywhere a person might step, sit, or sleep. The plague was relentless, croaking chaos that drove a nation to its knees.

Finally, the Pharaoh had enough and asked Moses to take away the frogs. Moses asked him a rather odd question, “When do you want me to take away the frogs?” If that is an odd question, then the Pharaoh’s answer is downright bizarre. He answered, “Tomorrow!” (Exodus 8:10). It seems he wanted one more night with the frogs.

That’s weird, but maybe that’s the most human answer ever given. We all live in the land of tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll forgive. Tomorrow we’ll call our mother. Tomorrow we’ll surrender our hearts to God. Tomorrow we’ll stop putting off what matters most.

Jesus met “tomorrow people” too. When He called, they responded with delay: “First let me bury my father… First let me say goodbye…” Always “first,” always “tomorrow.”

But here’s God’s gentle truth: Tomorrow isn’t promised. It’s a beautiful illusion, a comfortable lie we tell ourselves while blessings slip through our fingers like morning mist.

The Father who loves you isn’t asking you to be perfect tomorrow. He’s asking you to take one step today. To forgive today. To love today. To trust today.

Don’t spend another night with the frogs of procrastination, fear, or delay. Whatever God is calling you to do— that conversation, that decision, that act of courage—do it now!

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

Our reading is Romans 10:17: 

“Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ.”*

Let me tell you about my guilty pleasure. I’m captivated by those YouTube videos where folks tackle jungle-thick lawns with grass towering over their heads. Armed with the right equipment, they transform chaos into beauty. Why does this fascinate me? Because I’ve spent years wrestling with my own yard using nothing but a modest mower—the wrong tool for the job.

Here’s what those lawn warriors taught me: every task requires the right instrument. If you want to mow tall grass, get the right mower. You wouldn’t slice bread with a hammer or paint a masterpiece with a garden hose. The tool must match the task.

The same principle applies to our spiritual lives. Want to grow your faith? God has given you the perfect tool: His Word.

“Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ.” It’s that simple, that profound.

Faith doesn’t grow through crisis, though trials may awaken our need for it. Faith doesn’t flourish through good intentions, wishful thinking, or a tragic event. Faith grows as we immerse ourselves in God’s word, as we listen to His voice speak through Scripture.

When you open your Bible, you’re not just reading ancient words; you’re encountering the living Christ. Each verse is a seed of faith planted in the soil of your heart.

If you want stronger faith, spend more time in the Word. It’s the right tool for the job God has given you.

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

Our reading today is from 2 Kings 6:17.

“And Elisha prayed, ‘Open his eyes, LORD, so that he may see.’ Then the LORD opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.”

Ever feel surrounded? Elisha’s servant did. Enemy soldiers everywhere. No escape route. Panic rising like floodwaters.

But here’s what I love about this story: Elisha didn’t pray for reinforcements. He didn’t ask God to remove the threat. He prayed for perspective. “Open his eyes, Lord.”

And what a difference a glimpse makes! Suddenly, the servant saw what was always there—heaven’s cavalry, fiery chariots, divine protection as far as the eye could see. The problem hadn’t changed. His vision had.

What we see with our natural eyes is only a fraction of what’s actually happening. Your current crisis? God’s already on it. That impossible situation? Heaven’s resources dwarf it. The spiritual realm contains greater forces than anything this world can muster against you.

Maybe you don’t need different circumstances today. Maybe you need a different sight. Perhaps it’s time to pray Elisha’s prayer: “Lord, open my eyes.” Your anxieties often result from focusing solely on visible circumstances, but God’s invisible army stands ready.

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

Today’s Reading is James 5:7.

“Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the Lord’s coming. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the soil, being patient about it, until it receives the early and latter rains.”

Some memories carry the sweetness of summer watermelons. Mine goes back more than fifty years to my granddaddy’s patch—an acre of melons that taught me about patience.

Every spring, Granddaddy would plant those tiny black seeds with the confidence of a man who understood seasons. I’d watch, wide-eyed, as little green nubs appeared, then small melons, then—after what felt like forever to a boy—prize-winning watermelons ready for harvest.

Those were golden days. Days I longed to recreate.

But here’s my confession: I never really planted my own watermelon patch. Why? Because patience wasn’t my strong suit.

 If I could have planted on Monday and harvested on Tuesday, I’d have been a watermelon farmer for life. But watermelons don’t work that way. Neither does life.  Perhaps you know this struggle. The piano lessons you abandoned. The language you never mastered. The dream you shelved because the wait seemed too long.

James knew something about waiting. He watched farmers trust the rhythm of seasons, planting in faith, watering in hope, harvesting in joy. They understood what we often forget: the best things grow slowly.

God operates on farmer time, not microwave time. His promises ripen in due season. His plans unfold according to His perfect calendar, not ours.

The farmer doesn’t fret over the timeline. He simply tends his field and trusts the process.

So should we.

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

Our reading today is Psalm 78:32.

“In spite of all this, they kept on sinning; despite His wonderful works, they did not believe.”

Isn’t it remarkable how quickly we forget?

The Israelites had front-row seats to God’s greatest show. They watched the Red Sea split like a curtain. They tasted bread from heaven each morning. They saw water gush from rocks and pillars of fire light their path. Yet Scripture says they “kept on sinning” and “did not believe.”

How could they forget such wonders? The same way we do.

We forget the job that came just when we needed it. We forget the healing that surprised the doctors. We forget the peace that carried us through the storm. Our hearts, it seems, have a peculiar case of spiritual amnesia.

Here’s the startling truth, faith doesn’t come because we see one more sign. If it did, the Israelites would have been the most faithful people on earth. Instead, they grumbled, rebelled, and wandered.

Faith comes when God’s word finds a good heart. God has already done his part on the cross. Another miracle will not help, but a good heart will.

So today, choose remembrance over forgetfulness. Choose gratitude over grumbling. Choose to believe not because you’ve seen wonders, but because you’ve known the Wonder-Worker.

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

Our reading today is Psalms 9:16

“The LORD is known by the justice He brings; the wicked are ensnared by the work of their hands. Higgaion Selah”

Of course, the Psalms were songs. With this verse God pauses the song. Right in the middle of this psalm, He places not one but two stop signs: Higgaion and Selah. Both whisper the same invitation: “Linger here. Let this truth settle deep.”

And what truth deserves such emphasis? Simply this: we are known by what we do.

Not by our good intentions. Not by our hidden dreams or private prayers. Not even by our carefully crafted self-image. We are known—truly known—by our actions.

The psalmist reminds us that even the Almighty reveals Himself through His deeds. God’s justice isn’t just a theological concept; it’s demonstrated through His works. His love isn’t merely proclaimed; it’s proven through His acts of mercy.

The wicked, too, are revealed by their choices. Their true nature emerges not in their words but in their deeds.

This isn’t harsh news, it’s hopeful news. Today offers opportunities to be known for kindness rather than criticism, for generosity rather than greed, for love rather than indifference.

Let this truth take root. Today’s deeds shape tomorrow’s reputation.

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

Remember to praise. 

“Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits.” – Psalm 103:2

Ever catch yourself talking to yourself? David did it all the time, and here’s a beautiful example. “Praise the Lord, my soul.” He’s having a heart-to-heart with his own heart.

Notice what David doesn’t do. To praise God, he doesn’t wait for goosebumps or angelic choirs. He doesn’t check his mood meter or wait for inspiration to strike. He commands his soul to praise. Sometimes worship is less about feeling and more about deciding.

But here’s the secret sauce—David connects praise to remembering. “Forget not all his benefits.” When we truly see what God has done, gratitude isn’t manufactured; it’s automatic. It flows like water from a spring.

Think about it. Has God forgiven your failures? That’s a benefit. Given you another sunrise? Another benefit. Surrounded you with people who love you? Benefit upon benefit.

David understood something we often miss: praise isn’t a religious requirement we grudgingly fulfill. It’s the natural response of a heart that pays attention to God’s goodness.

So today, talk to your soul. Remind it of God’s benefits. Don’t wait for feelings—make the choice. Remembering Him will lead to rejoicing.

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

Our reading today is Psalm 34:4

“I sought the LORD, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears.” – Psalm 34:4

David knew something about fear. He’d faced lions, bears, and a nine-foot giant with a bad attitude. Yet here he sits, penning these words: “he delivered me from all my fears.”

Maybe you’re scratching your head. “I’ve prayed. I’ve sought the Lord. But the fears are still camping out in my heart like unwelcome guests.”

Here’s the thing, prayer isn’t a cosmic vending machine. You don’t drop in your request and expect fear to tumble out the bottom slot. The power isn’t only in your praying; it’s also in your believing. It’s not about the eloquence of your words but the strength of your faith.

David didn’t say the giant disappeared. He said God delivered him from his fear of the giant. There’s a difference as wide as the Red Sea.

When you place your complete trust in the One who spoke stars into existence, fear starts packing its bags. Your circumstances may not change, but you do. The giant in your valley is real. But the God in your corner is bigger.

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

Our reading is Psalm 139:13.

“For You formed my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb.” 

That ought to tell you something about you. God made you on purpose. You are not an accident. 

He is personally involved in your beginning, your design, your very heartbeat.

Life doesn’t start as a random spark or a roll of the dice. It begins with God. Before you took your first breath, while you were still in the womb, He was shaping you. Not just your frame, but your soul, your emotions, and your spirit. Every detail—woven by His hands.

I love the image of knitting. Have you ever watched someone knit? Each stitch is slow, deliberate, connected to the next. That’s how God formed you. No shortcuts, no careless mistakes. Only patience, care, and intention.

And in His knitting, He gave you an identity that is yours alone. You are not a copy. You are an original. And because He made you, your life holds immeasurable worth. No ability, no weakness, no circumstance can lessen that.

Today, rest in this truth: you are God’s handiwork, created with care, loved from the start, and precious beyond measure.

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