Author: londavis@hotmail.com

Our question comes from Genesis 3:11.

“Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?”

Adam and Eve knew they had violated God’s command, and so they did what we are all tempted to do—they tried to hide. When God found them, He asked one of the most tender questions in all of Scripture. Not because of what it asks, but because of who is asking.

God already knew what Adam had done. He didn’t need information. What He wanted was honesty. He wasn’t hurling an accusation—He was opening a door. A door back to relationship. A door to grace.

“Have you?” He asks, not with fire and fury, but with the voice of a Father who loves too much to stay silent. He’s not pointing a finger. He’s reaching out a hand.

We’ve all eaten from that tree, haven’t we? We’ve all crossed lines we shouldn’t have. And like Adam, we hide. Behind excuses. Behind shame. Behind silence. But God still asks.

“Let’s talk about it,” He says. “Let’s bring this into the light. I’m not here to condemn. I’m here to restore.”

Remember, we pray and confess to God, because the One who knows everything still wants to hear it from you.

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

Job had lost everything—his children, his wealth, his health. His heart was broken and his world shattered. Like many of us in suffering, Job wanted answers. He wanted to know why. He wanted to fix things and make things better. Instead of answers, God gave something better: he gave him perspective. He reminded Job that control never belonged to us in the first place.

God does this by asking the question in Job 38:31.

“Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades or loose the cords of Orion?”

In this question, He doesn’t explain suffering. He doesn’t defend Himself. He just asks questions—questions that lift our eyes from the dirt of earth to the dance of the stars. “Job, can you hold the stars in place? Can you command the stars of Pleiades or Orion to walk across the sky?”

Of course not. Job couldn’t. And neither can we.

When life feels like it’s unraveling, like Job we grasp at the strings, trying to pull it all back together. But God’s question invites us to loosen our grip. We can’t bind the stars, and we can’t fix what only He can restore. We can’t fix everything, or sometimes anything. God can. We need only to lean on him and trust that he knows best.

So what are you holding onto today? A fear? A future? A broken piece of your heart?

Let it go. The One who guides the galaxies is more than able to guide you too.

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

Today’s question comes from Job 1:8.

“Have you considered my servant Job?”

It wasn’t a question asked about Job. It was a declaration for him. God was speaking to Satan, pointing to Job with the pride of a Father. “There’s my servant. Look at him. He walks with Me. He turns from evil. He trusts Me.”

Job didn’t hear that conversation. He didn’t know he was being noticed. He didn’t see God’s spotlight shining on his faith. He just woke up one day and everything started falling apart.

The Loss. The Pain. The Silence from God. Job surely didn’t understand.

But behind the scenes, God had considered Job. Not to punish—but to prove. God saw strength in Job that even Job didn’t know was there. The kind of faith that holds on even when the lights go out.

Here is the great truth in this story: God saw Job’s faith before Satan’s test. Job’s faith was not born in the pain. It was exposed in the pain. God sees your faith too!

Maybe your world feels like Job’s right now—shaken, shattered, confused. You wonder, “Why?” You haven’t heard the answer. But don’t miss the truth: God sees you. He considers you. And He may be using your faith as a testimony.

So, walk on. You are not forgotten. You are fully known and still chosen.

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

God’s question for today comes from Job 40:2.
“Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct Him?”


My wife of 55 years died. My only brother died. My best friend died of cancer. Though they died months apart, it seemed like it was all in the same week. I was tired of death. There was nothing I could do. Sometimes life doesn’t make sense. The good suffer. The wicked seem to win. Prayers go unanswered. In our confusion, we may feel tempted to raise a fist toward heaven and ask, “Why, God?”

Consider the case of Job. He lost everything—his family, his health, his security. In his grief, he began to question the fairness of it all. Then God responded—not with explanations, but with questions. Piercing, soul-searching questions like this one: “Will the one who contends with the Almighty correct Him?”
It wasn’t scolding. It was an invitation. A reminder. We are not God. We see through the years; He sees through eternity. His ways are higher, His wisdom deeper, His justice perfect.

God wasn’t offended by Job’s questions. He welcomed Job’s honesty. But He also re-centered the conversation. Not around Job’s suffering—but around God’s sovereignty.

There’s comfort in that. If we had to understand everything to trust Him, we never would. Faith doesn’t mean we stop asking. It just means we start trusting—especially when we don’t understand the answers.

Lay down your case today. Let God be God. He can handle your hurt, and He alone can heal your heart. As the sons says, you will understand it all by and by.

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

God’s question for today comes from Exodus 4:11.

The Lord said to him, “Who gave man his mouth?”

God called Moses to tell the Pharaoh to let God’s people go. Moses had a heart full of hesitation. “I can’t speak well,” he said. “I’m not eloquent.” “Please, send someone else.” I just want to say, “Excuses, excuses.”

Maybe you’ve said something similar. I’m too shy. Too broken. Too slow. Too… something.

But God interrupts our excuses with a question that cuts straight to the heart.

“Who gave man his mouth?”

It’s more than a question—it’s a reminder. A reminder that God made you. He knows your voice, your flaws, your fears—and still, He calls you. Not because you’re perfect, but because He is. He doesn’t need polished vessels. He just needs open ones.

This isn’t just about Moses’ tongue. It’s about your hands, your feet, your story. God says, “I know what I put in you. I know how I wired you. And I will be with you.”

Where do you feel unqualified today? What task feels too big?

Hear God’s whisper: “I made you. And I’ll help you.”

Don’t let your limitations speak louder than God’s calling.

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

Our verse for today is Jonah 4:4.

“But the Lord replied, ‘Have you any right to be angry?'”

The city of Nineveh was spared. But Jonah? He was angry. How dare God show mercy to those people? God went to Jonah as he sat beneath a withering vine, and asked a question for all times: “Have you any right to be angry?”

We’ve all been angry and so we know that anger feels justified when it visits us. Anger arrives with proof that presents a compelling case. “Look what they did,” it whispers. “You have every right to be upset.”

But anger is a dangerous houseguest in your heart. Before long, your heart—once a place of kindness—becomes a courtroom where you serve as judge, jury, and executioner.

So what should we do when anger knocks at our heart?

Here are four quick steps to calm an angry heart:

1. Pause and breathe. Count to ten—or a thousand if needed. Give yourself space to think before reacting.

2. Consider the consequences. Ask yourself: What will this anger cost me? Will it hurt someone I care about?

3. Seek God’s wisdom. Don’t just read Scripture to check a box—read it to hear from God, especially when emotions run high.

4. Talk to someone. Find someone trustworthy. Not just anyone, but someone who listens well and helps you see clearly. Someone wise.

In the end, remember Ecclesiastes 7:9. It says:“Anger settles in the lap of fools.”

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

Our text for today is from 1 Kings 19:9.

“But the word of the Lord came to him: ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?'”*

Fresh off a mountain-top victory, Elijah had seen fire fall from heaven. He stood firm against hundreds of false prophets, watched the people fall face down in worship, and felt the wind of revival stir the air. But the thrill didn’t last. One threat from Jezebel, and fear found its way into his soul.

He ran. Far into the wilderness. Past the cheering crowds and the memory of triumph. He collapsed beneath a broom tree and begged God to take his life. Then, farther still—into a cave. Hiding. Numb. Spent.

That’s where God met him. Not with a shout. Not with a sermon. But with a question.

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

God wasn’t seeking directions. He was seeking Elijah’s heart. And He still does the same today.

When we run out of strength… When the fire dies down and fear flares up… God leans in with a whisper, not a wagging finger. “What are you doing here?” It’s not condemnation. It’s a gentle call to come out of hiding.

Maybe today, that question is for you. Not to expose you—but to invite you. Into rest. Into grace. Into the presence of a God who still speaks in whispers.

Let Him meet you there.

What Is That in Your Hand?

God’s question for today is from Exodus 4:2.

Then the Lord said to him, “What is that in your hand?”

In his hand, Moses had a stick. That’s all. A shepherd’s staff—ordinary, unimpressive, simple.

But in God’s hands, it parted seas, struck rocks, and showed His glory.

We often think we need more to serve God. More talent, more resources, more confidence. In the midst of all this, God asks a simple question: “What is that in your hand?”

He doesn’t ask what you wish you had. He asks what you do have.

A gift. A skill. A story. A moment.

God delights in using what’s already there—ordinary things for extraordinary purposes. The staff didn’t become powerful until Moses laid it down and let God use it.

Take inventory today. What’s in your hand? What gift, opportunity, or resource has God already given you? Offer it to Him, and you will be amazed at what you can do.

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

God’s question for today comes from Genesis 18:14.

“Is anything too hard for the Lord?”

Skeptics love to think up things that God cannot do. They ask, “Can God dig a hole so deep that he can’t get out of it,” or “Can God build a mountain so tall he can’t leap over it.” They ask these and other nonsense questions. 

Sarah was no skeptic but when God told her that at 90 she would have a child, Sarah laughed. 

Not out loud, but quietly in her heart. The promise of a child felt impossible. She was old. Her body had long stopped working the way it once had. Her hope had dried up like a desert.

She needed God’s question:

“Is anything too hard for the Lord?”

It wasn’t a rebuke—it was a reminder. God’s promises are not limited by our age, our logic, or our doubts. He doesn’t need the odds to be in His favor. He is the One who created time, breath, and bodies. And He still delights in doing the impossible.

We all have situations that feel too far gone. Prayers that feel too old. Dreams that seem dead. But the same question still whispers: Is anything too hard for the Lord?

Of course not. Simply trust Him.

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

Adam and Eve ate the fruit they were told to leave alone. Suddenly, innocence slipped away. They covered themselves with fig leaves and hid in the trees. When they admitted their fear, God asked them,  

“Who told you that you were naked?”  

– Genesis 3:11

Notice, God didn’t first ask, “What have you done?” He asked, “Who have you listened to?”

Because before our feet ever move the wrong way, our hearts start believing the wrong voice. Adam had listened to a voice that planted fear and shame. We still do the same. Some voices speak truth. Others whisper lies that sound almost true—until they leave us doubting God’s goodness.

Sin not only changes what we do; it changes how we see ourselves. Adam and Eve once saw themselves through God’s eyes—pure, beloved, enough. But now? Now they saw only shame. That’s what sin does. It doesn’t just wound us; it warps us. It makes us believe we are broken beyond repair.

Shame tells us to hide. God calls us to come close.

I love how God goes straight to the heart. He doesn’t begin with the broken command. He begins with the broken belief. 

And He still asks us today: Who told you that you were too far gone? Who told you that my love could run out?

Don’t listen to that voice. God is still calling.

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