For many years there was a little potted plant on our kitchen window sill, though I’ve long since forgotten the variety. Year after year that plant would put out a shoot and from the shoot would emerge a single flower. And I observed that no matter how I turned the pot, the flower would respond. If I turned the pot so the flower was facing the room, within a day or two it would have turned to face the light. And if I rotated it again, the flower would respond in the same way, turning itself toward the light streaming in from the window. I could not fool it. I could not discourage it or persuade it to give up.
You cannot read about the life and ministry of Jesus Christ without noticing his love for the natural world. Many of his most vivid illustrations are drawn from nature—the birds, the plants, the trees, the winds. You often observe him making use of the natural elements that were right before him to help his listeners understand his teaching—the fig tree that failed to bear fruit, the fields that were white for harvest, the birds that were unconcerned about their next meal.
And in that vein, I learned a lesson from that little flower—the lesson of the potted plant. No matter how I turned the plant, it dutifully responded by realigning itself to face the light. No matter how many times I turned it and no matter how completely I turned it, it responded in the same way.
From the plant, I learned that life’s circumstances often turn us into times of darkness, times when we are overcome by pain, sorrow, or other trials. For a time the world around us may look dark and foreboding, like the Valley of the Shadow of Death is closing in around us and threatening to swallow us up. Yet our duty in such times is to look for the light and to turn toward it.
God never leaves us without some truth to believe in, some promise to cling to, some hope to long for, some light to turn toward.Share
And there always will be a source of light, for our God never deserts or abandons us. He never leaves us without some truth to believe in, some promise to cling to, some hope to long for, some light to turn toward. For God does not just have light or display light—he is light.
I’m certain that if I had taken my little potted plant to a dimly lit room in a hospital, it would still have turned toward whatever light came from the window, no matter how dim the source. I’m certain that if I took it to a prison cell with nothing but a single little window high above, it would lift its face toward that one shaft of light. It could not be stopped. It could not be discouraged. It could not be dissuaded.
And neither should we ever be dissuaded from turning toward the Lord in every circumstance. Our eyes may be weary and full of tears, the light may seem distant and dim, but the Lord is present, close to the broken-hearted and eager to save those who are crushed in spirit. It falls to us to simply turn and to look toward the light that streams from his presence and illumines us with his grace.

This sponsored post was provided by Burke Care, and written by Jim Burke, which invites you to schedule care today with a certified biblical counselor.

Open my eyes, that I might behold wonderous things out of your law. Psalm 119:18
Today, it is so easy for me to read this verse and conclude, “Oh, Father! You know how I want so badly to see the abundance of wonderous things in Your law. Please, continue to reveal Yourself to me!”
But…
In my twenties, I was not a Christian and I would have processed this verse completely in the flesh so I would be reading something like, “Make wonderous things known to me for my benefit and my glory; my kingdom come, my will be done!”
In my thirties, at the apex of sin being played out in my life, I would have looked at this same verse thinking I was reading, “Open my eyes so that I can get out of this dreadful situation I find myself in. Take away the consequences of my sin and make my life abundant according to the desires of my heart!”
In my forties, I would have had a more sobering response but still arrogant in my understanding. I would have interpreted this verse to say something like, “Now that you have rescued me, show me wonderous things that I can share with others so that they can be like me. You were so good to have saved me!”
In my fifties, humility would have begun to creep in, but I would have still been struggling not to hold onto my own efforts to work out God’s law. My thinking would be something like, “You have opened my eyes, I have seen wonderous things in your law that I do regularly. Thank you that I am not like that other guy!”
The Pharisee and the Tax Collector
He (Jesus) also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you; this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”— Luke 18: 9-14 ESV
Now my prayer each morning sounds more like, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” I am saved by grace, but I still sin. My identity is secure as a redeemed child of the Creator God. Yet, each day I sense my sin in new ways. With that I urgently cry out like a needy child “Abba, Father!”
God open my eyes today to see wonderous things in your law.
Burke Care would love to hear about where you are in your own sanctification journey. Let us see if we can “behold wonderous things” together!
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The God of love and peace be with you today.

There are a couple of new Kindle deals today. And check out yesterday’s as well if you didn’t catch them then.
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“It may seem counterintuitive, but Christian growth is a gradual downward movement toward the maturity of childlikeness. Have you ever met a Christian in their later years whose eyes sparkled bright with life? That is a person growing toward childlikeness of heart, not away from it.” What an interesting reality…
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Aimee Joseph: “I am incredibly grateful for and deeply benefit from the Declaration of Independence penned by Thomas Jefferson; however, my soul needs to be stamped with deeper declaration daily: a declaration of dependence.”
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Don’t read the Bible so you can Instagram your devotions or humblebrag about it on Twitter. Examine your heart to ensure you are using the spiritual disciplines for the noblest of purposes, which is to know and honor God.

In our idolatry we make gifts out to be supreme goods, and make the Giver into the errand boy of our desires. —David Powlison