Author: londavis@hotmail.com

Luke 2:7

“And she gave birth to her firstborn, a Son. She wrapped Him in swaddling cloths and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”

For four hundred years, heaven had been quiet. No prophets thundered. No fresh word from God. Just the echo of Malachi fading into the distance, leaving Israel waiting in the dark.

“Then, in a little town called Bethlehem—a town whose very name means ‘House of Bread’—Jesus, the Bread of Life, arrived. He came not in a palace, nor with the fanfare of trumpets, but in a stable, wrapped in rags and resting in a feeding trough. The eternal Word had come as a crying baby.”

We fuss over details, don’t we? Was it December 25th, January 6th, or later in March? Were there three wise men or thirty? Was there snow on the Bethlehem hills? None of that matters. What matters is this: He came.

The Savior who would one day feed five thousand with a boy’s lunch first needed a teenage girl to feed Him. On this night God spoke His loudest word of love in the language every heart understands: a baby’s cry.

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

Proverbs 11:14

“Where there is no guidance, a people fall, but in
an abundance of counselors there is safety.”

Wisdom doesn’t grow in the echo chamber of our own thoughts. It grows in the voices God places around us. Pride insists it needs no counsel, but humility knows better. True wisdom listens, not only to the right people, but ultimately to the right person.

Here’s the truth: You may know a thousand things, but sometimes the one who knows a single thing well can save you from a thousand mistakes.

Henry Ford understood this. When asked how he managed without knowing every fact, he replied, “I just push the button and call in the man who knows.” That wasn’t ignorance; it was wisdom. He recognized that progress doesn’t come from carrying every answer, but from knowing who to ask.

God designed life this way. We are not meant to walk alone. He surrounds us with godly voices, seasoned by Scripture and experience.

In the end, the question isn’t whether you know everything. The question is: do you know who to trust? Listen well, lean on the wise, and let God’s counsel guide you.

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

John 6:21-22
“Another of His disciples requested, ‘Lord, first let me go and bury my father.’ But Jesus told him, ‘Follow Me, and let the dead bury their own dead.’”

Jesus said, “Let the dead bury their own dead.” Really? His words sound harsh to our ears. Yet His intent was not cruelty, it was clarity. The disciple’s request probably was not about attending a father’s funeral. Many scholars believe the father was still alive, perhaps aged or ill. The son was really saying, “Let me stay home until life feels easier, then I’ll follow You.” In other words, he offered an excuse, not a reason.

Jesus knew how easily excuses can delay obedience. We tell ourselves, “I’ll serve when the kids are grown… I’ll give when finances improve… I’ll worship when life slows down.” But excuses are the cobwebs that keep us from walking in freedom. Christ’s call is urgent, not because He is impatient, but because He knows the joy waiting on the other side of obedience.

Christ is not interested in your retirement plan; He’s interested in your current devotion. Don’t let your “I’ll do it laters” become the graves of what God wants to do right now. Leave the “dead” things—the excuses, the delays, the comfortable waiting games, and do the right thing now!

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

Our reading for today is Matthew 8:27

The men were amazed and asked, “What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the sea obey Him!”

The disciples had seen Jesus heal the sick and touch the untouchable. They thought they knew Him. But when the storm raged and the boat rocked, they discovered a side of Him they had never imagined. With a word, the winds hushed. With a command, the waves stilled. And the men whispered in awe, “What kind of man is this?” 

Isn’t it striking? The sea obeyed Him instantly. The storm bowed before its Maker. Creation recognized its Creator, while people, those He came to save, often hesitate. We wrestle with obedience, delay surrender, and question His authority. Yet the winds don’t argue. The waves don’t resist. They simply yield.  

Fear had gripped the disciples moments before. Panic filled their hearts. But awe was born on the other side of fear. Worship replaced worry. That’s often how it works. When we face storms, we discover His power. When we tremble, we learn His strength.  

The longer you walk with Jesus, the more you realize: He is greater than you imagined. He is Lord of the storm, Master of the sea, and Savior of your soul.

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

Two thousand years ago, a man with leprosy approached Jesus. The sight of him must have emptied the street. Lepers lived on the edge of town, on the edge of life. But this one came close. He knelt. And then he said something surprising: “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.”

He basically said, “Jesus I know you can help, but will you?”

If you are willing? Strange words. Didn’t he know? Jesus is always willing.

Yet don’t we whisper the same doubt? A marriage frays, a child wanders, a diagnosis darkens the door and we suffer in silence. We carry the burden alone, convinced heaven is too busy or we’re too broken. In that moment, we’re living the leper’s question: “If you are willing…”

Friend, hear the rest of the story. Jesus reached out and touched the man. Touched him! Jesus touched the untouchable leper. “I am willing,” He said. “Be clean.” And immediately the leprosy left.

Two thousand years later, Jesus hasn’t changed. The same heart that moved toward a leper, moves toward you. Whatever weighs you down: fear, failure, addiction, grief, He is willing. One wise soul observed: until you’ve taken your problem to Jesus, you haven’t done all you can do.

What are you waiting for? He stands ready. Kneel. Speak. Trust His touch.

He is willing. Are you?

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

Our reading is Psalms 20:7

“Some trust in chariots and others in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.”

King David knew what it meant to face danger. He had battled lions and bears in the fields. He stood before a giant who towered above him. He had felt the weight of armies pressing against his kingdom. Yet in every conflict, he learned a steady truth. Weapons could help, but they could not save. So he wrote today’s verse. He understood where real strength comes trust in God.

Trust does not come easily for most of us. We like to feel in control. I remember sitting on a plane beside a woman who was quietly crying. The flight attendant knelt to reassure her and even suggested a pill. Through her tears the woman whispered, “I already have taking one.” Her fear was proof that trust cannot be swallowed. It has to be learned.

We place trust in so many things. A chair to hold us. A car to bring us home. A plane to lift us safely through the heavens. Yet sometimes we struggle to trust the One who made the heavens.

Scripture calls us to surrender our fears and lean into His promises. Trusting God brings a peace no pill can give.

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

Proverbs 25:14

“Like clouds and wind without rain is the man who boasts of gifts never given.”

Imagine a bone-dry Texas summer. The ground cracks like old pottery. Cattle stand around water troughs that echo when they drink. Then, far off, you spot them, big, billowy clouds stacking up on the horizon. Your heart leaps. You can almost smell the rain coming. You tell the kids, “Grab the buckets; it’s gonna pour!” Minutes stretch into hours. The clouds swagger across the sky, full of sound and fury, then drift away without dropping a single drop. Nothing! Just hot wind and broken hope.

We’ve all met walking weather systems, people who thunder about the blessings they’re going to pour out, the help they’re going to give, the love they’re going to show…and then nothing. The check never arrives. The visit never happens. The promise evaporates. Something inside the waiting heart shrivels a little more.

God calls us to be a different kind of sky. He wants us to be the gentle, steady rain that shows up when it says it will. He wants us to keep our promises. That’s the fragrance our Father loves.

Today, let one promise you’ve made become water in someone’s desert. Follow through. Show up.

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

Today’s reading is Psalm 23:4.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”*

From time to time, we all go through a valley. The fear is real, but so is the comfort to come.

Notice where David’s comfort lies. It isn’t in the absence of shadows but in the presence of the Shepherd. Peace doesn’t come because the valley is easy; it comes because the Shepherd is near. His presence transforms fear into courage, despair into hope.

Next we see, the rod of protection. God shields us from dangers we see and from those we never notice. His strength stands guard over our fragile hearts. 

Finally there is the staff of guidance. With gentle nudges, the Shepherd sets our feet on the right path, correcting us when we wander, steadying us when we stumble.

And then, the shift: David stops talking about God-“the Lord is my shepherd” and starts talking to Him – “You prepare a table before me.” The valley becomes personal. Fear turns into prayer. In the valley, the Shepherd is a companion.

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