Our devotional thought comes from John 14:9. Jesus says to Philip, “Have I been with you so long, and yet you have not known Me, Philip? He who has seen Me has seen the Father; so how can you say, ‘Show us the Father’?”

Picture this: You’ve got a neighbor you’ve seen a thousand times. He’s there mowing the lawn, sipping coffee on the porch, waving as you pass by. You know his name, his habits, maybe even his dog’s favorite toy. But one day, he shares a story—a heartache, a hope—and you realize you never really knew him at all. Proximity isn’t understanding.

Philip walked with Jesus for years. He saw water turn to wine, watched the lame dance, heard words that lit the soul on fire. Yet, when he asked to see the Father, Jesus gently pointed out the gap. Philip was close, but closeness isn’t knowing. Knowing about Jesus—His miracles, His sermons—doesn’t mean we grasp His heart.

So, how do we truly know Him? Here are some suggestions:

1. Linger with Him: Spend quiet moments in prayer and His Word, letting His presence sink deep.

2. Hear His Whisper: Listen for His voice in Scripture and the stillness of your soul.

3. Follow His Steps: Obey His call to love, serve, forgive—action reveals His character.

4. Serve His People: Touch the hurting; in their eyes you’ll see His face.

Knowing Jesus isn’t a checklist; it’s a relationship. Don’t settle for facts when you can have relationship.

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

In John 5:6, Jesus pauses by the pool of Bethesda and looks at a man who’d been sick for 38 long years. “Do you want to be healed?” He asks. 

It sounds so simple, doesn’t it? Yet that question cuts straight to the soul. Healing can’t start until we admit we’re broken. Think of it like this: the first step toward wholeness is whispering, “Lord, I need You.”

So many of us walk through life pretending we’re fine, brushing aside the cracks in our spirits, our hearts, our bodies. But here’s the truth—until we acknowledge our need, we cannot experience the healing we so desperately require.

That question Jesus asked? It demanded something raw from the lame man: honesty. After nearly four decades of pain, the man could’ve shouted, “Yes!” Instead, he murmured an excuse: “I have no one to put me into the pool” (John 5:7). Don’t we do that too? We often point fingers at life, at others, even at God, rather than face our need. Healing begins when the excuses end, when we’re honest before Him.

Jesus didn’t hand the man a plan. He just said, “Get up, pick up your mat, and walk” (John 5:8). Faith was the key. And it still is—for us. Forgiveness, repentance, trust—whatever the step, we must take it.

“Do you want to be healed?” Jesus asks us today. He knows our struggles and sees the wounds we hide. He won’t force His help, but oh, how He invites us to trust Him for wholeness.

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

Our devotional thought comes from Mark 4:40: “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

The storm was real. The waves crashed. The boat rocked. But the greater truth was sitting in the stern—Jesus. The disciples, though seasoned fishermen, were undone by the wind. Fear does that. It drowns out God’s promises. Jesus had already said, “Let us go to the other side” (Mark 4:35). Faith would have held onto His words, but fear fixated on the storm.

It wasn’t the first time fear had faced faith. Think of David, a shepherd boy standing before a giant. While others saw a warrior too big to defeat, David saw a God too big to lose. “The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine” (1 Samuel 17:37). He remembered God’s past victories and faced the future unshaken.

What about you? When storms arise, where do you turn? The voices of fear will always shout the loudest. But faith? Faith whispers, “God is here.” Remember how God parted the sea, fed the hungry, calmed the storm. His faithfulness yesterday is the anchor for today.

The waves may rise, but Jesus is still in the boat. And He’s asking the same question: “Why are you so afraid?”

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

Our devotional thought comes from Mark 8:19.

Jesus looked at His disciples and asked, “When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many basketfuls of broken pieces did you collect?” They answered, “Twelve.”

It was a simple question with a powerful lesson. Jesus wasn’t looking for a number—He was reminding them of a truth they had forgotten. If God provided before, He can do it again?

Faith grows when we remember what God has already done. The disciples had witnessed a miracle, yet fear came in when faced with being down to their last loaf. Jesus’ question was a nudge—”Think back. Recall My faithfulness. Trust Me.”

David understood this principle. Before facing Goliath, he remembered how God had helped him defeat the lion and the bear (1 Samuel 17:37). That memory strengthened his resolve. If God had delivered him before, He would do it again.

We see this throughout Scripture. Paul, in prison, encouraged himself by recalling how God had rescued him from trials before (2 Corinthians 1:10).

God’s past provision guarantees He can do it again. The next time fear whispers that you won’t make it, pause. Remember. Count the basketfuls. The same God who was faithful then is faithful now.

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

Our devotional thought comes from Mark 6:38.

“Go and see how many loaves you have,” He told them. And after checking, they said, “Five—and two fish.”

Have you ever wondered why Jesus asked His disciples to count the loaves? The Creator of the universe, who spoke galaxies into existence, surely knew exactly what they had. Yet He asked.

In that simple question lies a profound truth that echoes through the pathways of our faith. Jesus wasn’t seeking information—He was inviting participation.

The Master could have materialized a banquet from nothing. Instead, He reached for what they already had in their hands. Five loaves. Two fish. Hardly enough to feed a family, let alone five thousand men.

That’s the miracle of God’s economy. He doesn’t ask what we wish we had. He asks what we do have. And when we surrender our “not enough,” He transforms it into “more than enough.”

Notice the beautiful dance of divine and human partnership. The disciples did what they could—they gathered, they counted, they brought, they distributed. Jesus did what they couldn’t—He multiplied.

This remains His pattern today. In your marriage that feels broken beyond repair. In your ministry that seems too small to matter. In your dreams that appear impossible to fulfill. He’s asking, “What do you have?” Not to shame you for its inadequacy, but to show you His sufficiency.

Your “five loaves and two fish” moment awaits. Bring what you have. Watch what He does. The miracle isn’t in what we possess, but in whose hands we place it.

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

Imagine Peter standing by Jesus on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, waves lapping at their feet. Fresh off a second chance—forgiven for denying his Savior—Peter should be soaking in the moment. But no, his eyes drift to John.

“Lord, what about him?” he wonders aloud, curiosity tugging at his heart.” Jesus turns, His eyes soft but piercing. He says, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me,” (John 21:22).

It’s a gentle nudge, a loving redirect. “Peter,” He seems to say, “don’t tangle yourself in John’s story. Keep your feet on your own path.”

Sound familiar? We’re all Peter sometimes, aren’t we? We peek at someone else’s life—their victories, their struggles—and think, Why not me, Lord? What about them? But Jesus leans in close, His voice a whisper on the wind: “Their story’s mine to pen. Yours is to walk with me.”

God’s plan for others isn’t our burden to carry. He’s holding their chapters just as surely as He’s holding ours. So, quit craning your neck over the fence. Slip your hand into His, trust His grip, and step forward. He’s got them. He’s got you.

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

Picture the scene: a woman, weary from years of bleeding, edges through the crowd. She’s desperate, yet discreet. Her plan? A secret rendezvous with Jesus’ power. Just a brush against His cloak—quietly, anonymously—and she’d slip away, healed. No one would know. She reaches, touches, and instantly, the flow stops. 

Luke 8:43-44 says,

“She came up behind Jesus and touched the fringe of His cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped. ‘Who touched Me?’ Jesus asked. But they all denied it.”

Miracle received; mission accomplished. Or so she thought.

“Who touched Me?” The disciples shrug—everyone’s jostling Him! Yet He knows this was different. Her touch wasn’t a bump in the crowd; it was faith reaching out. She wanted His power on the sly, a private transaction—His blessing without the broadcast. She believed in Him, sure, but hoped to keep it under wraps.

She would learn that Jesus doesn’t do undercover miracles. His touch isn’t a stealth operation. When He heals, it’s not just your body that mends—it’s your story that shifts. The woman’s secret couldn’t stay hidden. Her healing shouted what her lips wouldn’t: “I’ve been with Jesus!” He drew her out, not to shame her, but to show her—and us—that touching Him changes everything, visibly.

We can’t swipe His grace and slink away unchanged. To encounter Jesus is to wear His mark, to glow with His presence. Try as we might for a hushed faith, His love spills over, evident to all. A secret relationship with Jesus? Impossible. His touch transforms, and the world notices.

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

Our devotional thought comes from John 1:38.  

“Jesus turned and saw them following. ‘What do you want?’ He asked…They said to Him, ‘Rabbi, where are You staying?'”  

As we read this, we should realize that “What do you want?” was more than a simple question—He knows us better than we know ourselves—but He asks it because we must know what we want. We must speak our hunger before we can be fed.  

Many live their lives restless and unsatisfied, searching but never finding. They chase after success, approval, or comfort, thinking these things will fill the emptiness inside. But a newer car or bigger house is a temporary part of life. With this question, Jesus forces us to pause. Unless we recognize our need for God, we will never truly seek Him.  

Faith begins with awareness. If we long for peace, we must turn to the Prince of Peace. If we crave meaning, we must look to the One who gives purpose. If we desire love, we must open our hearts to the Savior. Until we acknowledge our own emptiness, we will settle for things that cannot satisfy.  

Jesus still asks, “What do you want?” Not because He doesn’t know, but because we must know. When we finally realize our deepest need, we will find that He is the only One who can meet it.  

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

The first question Jesus ever asked is found in Luke 2:49.

“Why were you looking for Me?” The answer to that question seems obvious. They were looking because their 12-year-old son was missing for three days. Jesus’s question was really, “Why did you have to look for me? Surely, you knew where to find me.” We know that is what he meant because of his second question. “Did you not know that I had to be in My Father’s house?” There’s a sense of surprise in His words—almost as if He expected them to know exactly where He would be.

This story makes us ask, if someone were looking for you, where would they start? Would their first thought be to check a place of worship, a quiet corner of prayer, or a space of service? Or would they search everywhere else—workplaces, social spots, or entertainment venues—before it even crossed their mind to look for you in the presence of God?

Jesus’ identity and mission were so intertwined with His Father’s house that He assumed it was the obvious place to look. Is our connection with God just as clear to those around us? Do we live in such a way that people naturally associate us with the things of God?

Too often, life’s distractions pull us away from where we should be. Church becomes occasional, prayer gets hurried, and time with God feels optional. But Jesus reminds us that being in the Father’s presence isn’t just an event—it’s where we belong.

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

Our devotional thought comes from Mark 8:18-19.

“Do you not remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many basketfuls of broken pieces did you collect?”

It’s easy to shake our heads at the disciples. They stood right there, witnessing bread multiply in Jesus’ hands, yet fear still crept in when the next need arose. We wonder how they could forget so quickly. But if we’re honest, we do the same thing.

God comes through for us in ways we couldn’t predict. Bills get paid when the numbers didn’t add up. Peace finds us when anxiety threatens to swallow us whole. A word of encouragement lands at just the right moment, as if God Himself whispered into someone’s ear on our behalf. But when the next crisis comes knocking, all those successes fade from memory.

Jesus asked the disciples a pointed question—“Do you not remember?” That question still echoes today. Our fear doesn’t stem from God’s inability, but from our forgetfulness. When we lose sight of how He’s provided before, we start to believe this time might be different.

The remedy for fear isn’t more wonders. It’s a better memory. Remembering what God has already done rewrites the story we tell ourselves about what’s possible today.

Take a moment. Recall His faithfulness. Trust grows when we remember what God has already done.

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

Jesus had a way of making the profound feel personal. He didn’t lecture on theology—He told stories that hit home. One of those lessons is found in the question Jesus asked in Matthew 7:9.

“Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone?”

You might answer that none would. A loving parent wouldn’t play a cruel joke on a hungry child.

God is our loving parent. Too often we question God’s goodness? When life disappoints us, when prayers seem unanswered, we wonder if God is holding back on us. With this question Jesus reminds us that if flawed, earthly parents know how to give good gifts, then surely our perfect heavenly father gives much more.

God isn’t stingy. He isn’t playing tricks. He doesn’t give stones when we need bread. The problem is, we sometimes mistake His answers. What we see as a “stone” might actually be the foundation for something greater. What feels like a “no” might be a “not yet” or a “something better is coming.”

God’s goodness isn’t measured by how often He gives us what we want, but by how perfectly He gives us what we need. He sees the bigger picture. He knows the whole story. And in His kindness, He provides exactly what will nourish our souls—even when we don’t recognize it at first.

So trust Him. When you pray, know that your Father is good. And He never gives stones.

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

In our text today, Jesus is on His way to Jerusalem. The crowd is noisy, the road is busy, and the weight of what awaits Him at the cross is already resting on His heart. He is headed to the crucifixion, but even with all of that, He stops as he sees two blind men sitting beside the road. 

Matthew 20:32, the Bible tells us:

Jesus stopped and called them. “What do you want Me to do for you?” He asked.

There is something tender about that moment. He stopped not for a powerful ruler or a religious leader. Not for someone of wealth or influence. Jesus stops for two blind men sitting along the roadside, men that most would have walked past without a second glance.

Jesus notices the overlooked. He always has. It’s in His nature. He saw Zacchaeus clinging to a sycamore tree. He saw the woman who touched the hem of His robe in a crowded street. And here, He hears the cries of two men others tried to silence. Their voices mattered to Him. Their pain mattered to Him.

This is the heart of our Savior. While the world values noise and fame, Jesus never loses sight of the ones others ignore. The quiet prayers, the hidden struggles, the silent tears — they all catch His attention.

Maybe you’ve felt invisible. Maybe you’ve wondered if God even notices the prayers you whisper at night. Take heart. The same Jesus who stopped for two blind men on a dusty road stops for you. He notices you. He hears you. And He calls you to come near.

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

Our devotional thought today comes from Matthew 18:33.

Jesus asks the question:
“Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant, just as I had on you?”

Those words come straight from the mouth of a king in one of Jesus’ parables. The king had shown mercy to a servant drowning in debt, erasing what could never be repaid. But that same servant turned around and refused to show even a sliver of kindness to someone who owed him far less. It’s a sobering story, a clear reminder that God’s mercy to us is meant to flow through us.

God’s forgiveness isn’t a suggestion we can take or leave. It’s a calling, a way of life. Every time we pray the familiar words, “forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors,” we’re signing up for that very thing. We’re asking God to measure His mercy toward us with the same yardstick we use for others.

That’s humbling, isn’t it? Who among us hasn’t held on to an old wound just a little longer than we should have? Who hasn’t rationed out forgiveness like it was scarce, even though God pours it out on us with heaven’s abundance? Jesus knew our tendency to cling tight to offenses, which is why He told this parable. Forgiveness doesn’t always come easy. It’s rarely deserved. But it’s exactly what God expects from His people.

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

Have you ever heard of “Doctors Without Borders?” Doctors give of their time and risk their lives to go into war zones and disaster sites. They don’t do it for money and their only reward is to do something for others. In today’s question, Jesus challenges us to show “Love without Borders.” He challenges us to show kindness and love to people who don’t expect it.

He asked,
“If you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even Gentiles do the same?” (Matthew 5:47).

It’s easy to be kind to those who think like we do, look like we do, and live like we do. Jesus knew that. That’s why He asked a simple but piercing question — if we only greet and show kindness to our own, what makes us any different from the rest of the world? Even people who don’t know God show basic kindness to their own crowd.

Jesus wasn’t calling His followers to ordinary kindness. He was inviting us into something extraordinary — a life that reflects the heart of God Himself. God’s kindness stretches to the ones who disagree with Him, the ones who misunderstand Him, and even the ones who reject Him. As His children, we are called to do the same.

Think about that for a moment. If our love and kindness are no different than the kindness of someone who’s never met Jesus, what story are we telling? Jesus didn’t love us when we were already part of His family — He loved us while we were still sinners, still strangers, still far off.

Every time we extend that kind of kindness, we are painting a picture of the kingdom Jesus came to build.

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

In Matthew 15, Jesus asks a question.

“And why do you break the command of God for the sake of your tradition?” (Verse 3).

Even today, we wrestle with tradition becoming commandments in our minds.

As a young preacher, I took a group of teenagers to a nursing home where they monthly sang church songs to the audience of elderly patients. We always concluded our 25 minutes of singing with a prayer before leaving. That is a wonderful tradition, but I thought I would “shake things up.” I had the prayer in the middle of the singing and closed with a song. I turned to the young people to leave and they stood waiting for a “closing prayer.” I motioned for them to go, but they stood frozen in their spot. Finally I lead a prayer and they willingly left.

Here’s another example: I once observed a church leader walk into a teenage Bible class. He saw donuts the teacher had brought so he took them out. Was he enforcing a tradition or a commandment of God?

Tradition is doing things in a certain way so long that it become a law in our hearts.

Traditions cover whether women go to church in pants or dresses, the length of a man’s hair, or the style of worship we love. Young people, old people, white people, black people, and people in other lands all worship with a different style. These are just traditions.
In keeping with Jesus’ question, we must not let our traditions become a “thus saith the Lord.” Traditions are fine! I follow a lot of them, but I must see them for what they are and not judge another by my traditions. When God tells us what to do, that is not a tradition. When God has not spoken, it is a tradition.

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

There’s something captivating about the shine of success. Whether it’s a larger bank account, a new title on the office door, or applause from a crowd, we chase after these things with energy and passion. But Jesus asked a question that cuts right through all of that. It is found in Matthew 16:26

“What will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?”

In other words, what good is it to gain the whole world if you lose your soul in the process?

It’s easy to forget how fragile this world’s treasures are.
Wealth can vanish overnight.
Popularity fades faster than morning mist.
Even the best accomplishments grow old with time.

Yet, we spend so much of our lives stacking up these things, hoping they’ll give us the meaning and worth we crave. Jesus reminds us that true worth isn’t found in any of these. It’s found in something eternal — the state of our soul.

Your soul is the part of you that will live forever. It’s the place where God speaks, where His Spirit comforts, and where His love takes root. No amount of money, power, or fame can touch that sacred place. And when all is said and done, it’s your soul — not your resume or your retirement account — that will stand before God.

So, Jesus isn’t trying to take something from us with this question. He’s inviting us to trade the temporary things and stuff and junk, for the eternal.

It’s the best trade you’ll ever make.

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

Peter was a “Water Walker,” but even he began to sink. As he began to sink:

“Immediately Jesus reached out His hand and took hold of Peter. ‘You of little faith,’ He said, ‘why did you doubt?’” (Matthew 14: 31)

Faith is a beautiful thing when it’s steady, but oh how fragile it becomes when fear walks in. One moment Peter was doing the impossible, walking on water with his eyes locked on Jesus. The next, his gaze shifted to the wind and waves, and fear grabbed hold of his heart. In an instant, the faith that carried him onto the water crumbled beneath his feet.

We can relate to Peter, can’t we? Life has a way of throwing storms our direction—unexpected diagnoses, financial struggles, broken relationships. We start off with confidence, trusting God will see us through. But then the wind howls, the waves crash, and we feel the cold spray of uncertainty. Suddenly, fear seems more real than our faith.

But here’s the beautiful truth: Jesus didn’t leave Peter to sink. His hand was reaching, holding, even as the words left His mouth. “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” Jesus didn’t ask to shame Peter, but to remind him where faith truly comes from—not from perfect circumstances, but from a perfect Savior.

Faith isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about choosing to trust, even when fear shouts louder. When our eyes stay on Jesus, fear loses its grip, and faith finds solid ground again.

Whatever storm you’re in, read today’s passage and you will see Jesus standing there, hand extended, ready to catch you.

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

Worry is like rocking in a chair—you put in all the effort, but you don’t go anywhere. You feel like you’re doing something, but in reality, you’re just wearing yourself out. It keeps your mind busy, your heart heavy, and your peace just out of reach.

Jesus knew how easily we fall into worry, so He asked a simple but profound question in Matthew 6:27:

“Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”

Worry is a thief. It sneaks in, steals our peace, and leaves behind fear, exhaustion, and doubt. It takes and takes, but it never gives anything in return. Jesus reminds us that no amount of anxious thoughts will add a single moment to our lives. And yet, how often do we let worry take control, playing out endless scenarios in our minds, as if worrying hard enough will change the outcome? It never does.

Think about it—has worrying ever truly solved a problem? Has it ever brought joy, strength, or clarity? All it does is drain our energy and keep us from enjoying the present. It’s like carrying an umbrella every day in the middle of a desert, just in case it rains. You end up weighed down for nothing, preparing for storms that may never come.

Jesus calls us to something better—trust. Trust doesn’t mean ignoring our responsibilities or pretending everything is perfect. It means recognizing that God is already in tomorrow, working things out in ways we can’t see. It means believing that He cares for us more than we can imagine.

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

“If you walked up to an apple tree, you wouldn’t expect to find oranges hanging from its branches. And yet, how often do we expect good fruit from bad roots?”

This is the subject of Jesus’ question in Matthew 7.

“By their fruit you will recognize them. Are grapes gathered from thorn-bushes, or figs from thistles?” (verse 16).

With this question, Jesus gives us a simple but powerful truth—what we do, what we produce, reveals who we are. No one expects apples from a cactus or oranges from a pine tree. In the same way, a life rooted in Christ will naturally bear good fruit.

You don’t need a magnifying glass to see people’s character; you see it in their actions. Someone may talk about kindness, but if they’re constantly bitter, the fruit tells the real story. A person can claim to follow Jesus, but if their life is marked by dishonesty, selfishness, and pride, the evidence says otherwise.

And what about us? What fruit do we bear? If our words are encouraging, our actions reflect love, and our habits point to Jesus, we don’t have to convince anyone—we simply live it out. The fruit speaks for itself.

Jesus isn’t asking us to be perfect. He knows we stumble. But over time, a heart transformed by Him will naturally produce something different—patience where there used to be frustration, peace where there was anxiety, and kindness where there was indifference.

Today, take a moment to examine the fruit of your life. What does it say about your roots? Stay connected to Jesus, and the fruit will follow.

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

Sometimes, life makes us feel insignificant. The world is big, and we are just one of many. But God doesn’t see you as just one among the masses. He knows your name, your struggles, and your heartaches.

That is why Jesus gives us Matthew 10:29
“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father.”

A sparrow flits across the sky, unnoticed by most. It isn’t grand like an eagle or majestic like a peacock. It doesn’t command attention. Yet, Jesus tells us that not even one falls to the ground apart from the Father’s care. Jesus wants us to realize that if God values something as small as a sparrow, how much more does He value you?

Jesus’ words remind us that we are not forgotten. The same God who paints the sky and tells the waves where to stop has His eyes on you. He doesn’t just see you—He values you. You are not just another face in the crowd; you are a beloved child of the King.

So, when doubts creep in, when you wonder if God sees your pain or hears your prayers, remember the sparrow. If He cares for them, how much more does He care for you? Rest in that truth today.

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