Author: londavis@hotmail.com

Our verse for today is Genesis 25:22.

“Why is this happening to me?”

Rebekah’s body was in turmoil, and so was her heart. What should have been a season of joy became a season of wrestling. Something didn’t feel right. So she did what we all do in confusing times—she asked the question: “Why is this happening to me?”

It’s not just a mother’s cry. It’s the cry of the weary, the confused, the broken. It’s the voice of someone caught between promise and pain.

What Rebekah didn’t know was that the struggle inside her was part of something much bigger. Two nations were forming. A divine story was being written. But all she could feel was the discomfort.

Sometimes God’s greatest plans are hidden inside life’s hardest moments. We want answers. He offers presence. We want clarity. He gives us Himself.

Rebekah went to the Lord—and so should we. When the struggle gets loud, let His voice be louder. When you can’t see the end, rest in the One who sees it all.

Your pain might just be the beginning of His purpose.

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

Our verse for today is 1 Kings 19:13.

“Then a voice said to him, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?'”

Elijah had just called down fire from heaven. Faced off with false prophets. Turned a nation back toward God. He was a spiritual giant—until fear whispered louder than his faith. Jezebel’s threat sent him running into the wilderness, then curling up in a cave.

God let him rest. Gave him food. Let him sleep. But eventually, God asked the question.

“What are you doing here, Elijah?”

No thunder. No fire. Just a whisper. A question gentle enough to be heard by a weary heart.

And He asked it twice. Not because Elijah hadn’t answered, but because Elijah hadn’t heard. Not really. His answer was stuck in fear. But God didn’t scold. He stayed. He listened. And then He spoke purpose.

That’s how God works. He doesn’t give up on the discouraged. He draws near. And when we’re ready, He calls us back into the story.

Maybe you’re in a cave of your own. Maybe God is whispering the same question to you: “What are you doing here?”

Not to shame. Not to punish. But to remind you—there’s still life ahead. Still mission. Still purpose.

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

The question in Isaiah 50:2 is haunting. “Why was no one there when I came? Why did no one answer when I called?” When God call them, His people were nowhere to be found—they had stopped listening.

In the same verse, God asks why. Is it because you think I can’t help. “Is my hand too short to redeem you? Or do I lack the strength to deliver you?”

Israel’s absence was not physical. It was spiritual. Their hearts had wandered. They had looked to idols, to alliances with foreign nations, to anything but the God who had always been faithful. His hand was not too short to redeem. His strength had not weakened. Their trust had.

It’s easy to judge them—until we realize we do the same. God calls today, but we’re often too busy or too broken to respond. We scroll and strive, but we don’t stop to listen. We look for strength in ourselves, for comfort in entertainment, for answers in everything but Him.

Still, He calls. Gently. Faithfully. Not to shame, but to restore. Not to accuse, but to awaken. Maybe that’s what He’s doing right now—asking if you’ve drifted. Asking if you’ll return.

Remember, the arm of the Lord is still strong. 

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

Our question for today comes from Isaiah 6:8.

“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?'”

Isaiah 6:8 gives us one of the most beautiful moments in Scripture. After a breathtaking vision of God’s glory, after trembling in the presence of holiness, after being touched by mercy, and after having his sins forgiven, Isaiah heard the question.

“Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”

God didn’t demand. He didn’t draft Isaiah into service. He asked.

It was a question not born out of need, but out of love. God could have thundered commands. Instead, He whispered an invitation.

Isaiah, newly forgiven and freshly awakened, stood up and said, “Here I am. Send me.”

That’s all God needed. A willing heart.

He still asks today. Not just in churches or pulpits—but in coffee shops, office breakrooms, neighborhoods, and nursing homes. He looks for hearts that will say, “Here I am.” Not perfect ones. Not polished ones. Just willing ones.

Is there someone in your life who needs a word of hope? A helping hand? A listening ear? That may be your mission field.

Just listen for the whisper.

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

Our verse for today comes from Ezekiel 37:3.

“He asked me, ‘Son of man, can these bones live?’”

A strange classroom, wouldn’t you say? God brings Ezekiel to a valley littered with bones. Not just dead, but long dead. Dry. Scattered. Forgotten.

And then the question: “Can these bones live?”

God wasn’t looking for a medical opinion. He wasn’t asking for Ezekiel’s logic. He was opening the door of hope. What God asked was impossible—but God was inviting him to believe the impossible.

That’s still how God works. He steps into our valleys. Our broken marriages. Our wandering children. Our ruined plans. He sees the places we’ve written off, and He asks, *“Can life come from here?”*

The right answer isn’t, “I don’t see how.” It’s “You know, Lord.” Because He does. He always has.

When God breathes, dead things rise. When His Spirit moves, graves become gardens.

So, what in your life feels too far gone? Too broken? Too dry?

Hear God’s question. And answer with trust.

“Yes, Lord. These bones can live.”

As Holocaust survivor, Corrie ten Boom  said, “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.”

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

Our question comes from Jonah 4:9.

“But God said to Jonah, ‘Do you have a right to be angry about the vine?'”

Jonah was angry—angry that a plant died. Not angry that a city might perish. Not angry that people had lost their way. He was mad about losing his personal shade.

That’s the heart of this question. It’s not really about the vine. It’s about what matters to you. What makes you angry reveals what you value most. It reveals your heart.

For Jonah, comfort had become more important than compassion. The loss of his personal ease stirred him more than the salvation of 120,000 souls. God wasn’t scolding Jonah—He was shining a light on his misplaced priorities.

Amos 6 paints a similar picture. People lounged on ivory beds, sang songs, and drank wine, but didn’t grieve over the plight of the hungry and lost. Their hearts had grown cold while their comforts grew rich.

So God asks us the same question: What makes you angry? Is it inconvenience or injustice? Personal discomfort or someone else’s suffering?

Maybe it’s time to trade our anger for empathy. To care more about what God cares about.

Ask Him to help you adjust your priorities. To stir your heart, not just when your comfort is lost, but when compassion for others is needed.

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

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.

God’s question for today comes from Genesis 4:9.

Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?”

Cain had already crossed a line that should never be crossed. He murdered his brother. Even so, notice how God approaches him—not with a thunderclap, but with a question.

“Where is your brother?”

It wasn’t that God didn’t know. God always knows. He was offering Cain a chance. A chance to come clean. A chance to take responsibility. A chance, even now, to seek mercy. Sadly, Cain chose to hide behind denial.

That question hasn’t faded with time. It still echoes across the centuries. Where is your brother? Where is your sister?

Have you noticed their absence? Their tears? Their silent suffering? Are you your brother’s keeper? God seems to think so.

We are not called just to avoid doing harm. We are called to actively love. To see the ones who are easy to overlook. To reach out before it’s too late.

This question reminds us that it is not just about you. It is also about those around you.

Maybe there’s someone God has placed on your heart. Someone who feels forgotten. Someone whose burdens have gone unnoticed. Don’t brush off the nudge. Reach out. Call. Visit. Ask how they are.

Be your brother’s keeper today.

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

Our verse for today is Isaiah 55:2.

“Why spend money on that which is not bread, and your labor on that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of foods.”

One of the Bible characters who illustrates this verse was King Solomon.

He had it all—wealth, wisdom, and fame. He built houses, planted vineyards, and surrounded himself with every pleasure money could buy. Yet in the end, he called it all “meaningless, a chasing after the wind.” He had everything people dream of, but it couldn’t fill the emptiness in his heart.

It’s easy to get caught up in the chase, isn’t it? We spend our days piling up possessions, chasing achievements, and seeking approval. We work hard. We fill our schedules. We fill our homes. We fill our closets. Yet somehow, deep inside, the hunger remains.

God sees us running, and He gently asks, “Why?”

Why pour your energy into what cannot nourish you? Why invest your life in things that leave you emptier than before?

He isn’t scolding us. He’s inviting us. “Listen carefully to Me,” He says. “Eat what is good.”

God sets a table that no earthly banquet can match. He offers peace for the restless, hope for the hurting, grace for the guilty, and love that never lets go. The richest of foods for the emptiest of hearts.

You don’t have to stay hungry. You don’t have to keep striving.

Sit at His table. Taste His goodness. Listen to His voice. Let your soul delight in what truly satisfies.

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

Our question for today comes from Genesis 4:6.

“Then the Lord said to Cain, ‘Why are you angry?'”

Cain had stumbled. His offering didn’t please God the way his brother’s did. And instead of asking, “What can I do better?” he turned his frustration toward Abel. His brother hadn’t caused the failure, but Cain’s heart found a target anyway.

God saw it all. The jealousy simmering. The hurt swelling. The rage crouching, ready to pounce. And before the dam broke, God leaned in with a question.

“Why are you angry?”

Not a lecture. Not a condemnation. Just a gentle, soul-piercing question. Why?

It wasn’t anger management Cain needed; it was heart management. God wasn’t trying to scold him—He was trying to save him. 

God’s next words are even more tender and powerful.

“If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you refuse to do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires you, but you must master it” (verse 7).

Sin crouches. Like a wild animal, it waits. It knows when we are weak, when we are tired, when we feel overlooked, or when we are angry. But God says, “You can master it.”

Not in your strength. Not by ignoring it. But by answering His question honestly and choosing to do right, even when anger claws at your heart.

Oh, Cain. Oh, us.

When anger knocks, don’t open the door. Open your heart instead. Talk to God. Try again. Choose the better way.

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

Our verse for today is Genesis 3:13.

Then the Lord God said to the woman, “What is this you have done?”

When my daughter was just four, she got into a little trouble—nothing serious, but enough for a gentle swat on the bottom. She cried, more from wounded feelings than pain. I walked out of the room, but something tugged at me. So I went back in and knelt beside her. “Sweetheart,” I asked, “do you know why I did that?” She sniffled, lifted her head, and said, “Yes… because you were mad at me.”

Ouch! That one cut deep. I wasn’t trying to punish—I was trying to correct. But her little heart misunderstood.

That moment helped me understand this question from God to Eve: “What is this you have done?” It wasn’t a courtroom interrogation. It wasn’t for information—God already knew. It was an invitation. An open door to self-awareness. A holy pause.

God doesn’t ask to shame. He asks to awaken. He wanted Eve to see—not just what she had done, but what it meant. The broken trust. The shift in the world. The crack in her own soul.

We’ve all been there. We’ve crossed lines, stepped outside of wisdom, followed our wants instead of God’s word. And in the quiet that follows, God still asks, “What have you done?” Not to scold, but to guide. Not to condemn, but to start the healing.

Today, take a moment to answer that question in your own life. Not with fear, but with faith. Because the God who asks is the same God who forgives.

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