Daily Devotional Podcasts

582_The blessedness of living in the fear of God (Psalm 128) Psalm 128 Blessed is everyone who fears the Lord, who walks in his ways! 2 You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands; you shall be blessed, and it shall be well with you. 3 Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house; your children will be like olive shoots around your table. 4 Behold, thus shall the man be blessed who fears the Lord. 5 The Lord bless you from Zion! May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life! 6 May you see your children's children! Peace be upon Israel! Many years ago, a well-known businessman was asked the secret behind his steady joy and calm despite the pressures and unpredictability of his work. His answer surprised everyone. He said, “Every evening, before anything else, I sit with my family around the dinner table. We talk, we pray, we laugh. Everything else in my life may rise or fall, but if my home is blessed, I am blessed.” His words echo a profound biblical truth—that real blessing is not measured by possessions or achievements, but by a life aligned with God, overflowing into our work, our homes, and even our communities. Psalm 128 takes this truth and paints it with striking beauty. It opens not with a promise limited to a few, nor with a blessing reserved for Israel alone, but with a grand, universal pronouncement: “Blessed is everyone who fears the LORD, who walks in His ways.” This sets the tone for the entire psalm, declaring that God’s favor rests upon all—of every nation, every background, and every generation—who choose to honor Him with reverence and obedience. This universal welcome is not a New Testament idea that suddenly appeared with the early church. It has always been God’s intention. When Peter walked into the house of Cornelius, a Gentile centurion, he was overwhelmed by this very truth: “Truly I understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears Him and does what is right is acceptable to Him.” (Acts 10:34–35). From the beginning, God’s plan of salvation was for all peoples. Israel was chosen not as an exclusive club, but as a light to the nations—a living testimony of the goodness, justice, and mercy of the God who redeemed them. Though Israel often failed in this mission, Scripture highlights many who, despite being outsiders, recognized the God of Israel and entrusted themselves to Him—Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and later in the New Testament, the Roman centurion, the Syro-Phoenician woman, and others who believed even when many Israelites did not. In Christ, the promise to Abraham—“through you all the nations of the earth shall be blessed”—shines with full brightness. The blessedness of Psalm 128 begins with one posture: the fear of the Lord. This is not a cringing, dreadful fear, like an animal before a predator. It is a reverent, joyful fear—the kind that leads one to bow in awe, to seek God’s will, and to walk in His ways because one understands who

581_Recognizing the unseen hand of God in our lives (Psalm 127) Psalm 127 Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain. 2 It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep. 3 Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. 4 Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. 5 Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate. You may have heard the famous story about the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge. In the late 1800s, John Roebling had a daring vision of a suspension bridge connecting Manhattan and Brooklyn—an idea almost everyone thought was impossible. During construction, John was fatally injured, and his son Washington Roebling became the chief engineer. Shortly after, Washington developed severe decompression sickness that left him unable to walk or speak normally. Confined to his room, he watched the construction through a small window. But he still believed the bridge could be completed. The only way he could communicate was by tapping one finger on his wife Emily’s arm. She learned to interpret his taps, relay his instructions to the workers, and essentially became the bridge’s voice and overseer. Through unbelievable difficulty and unseen labor, the Brooklyn Bridge was completed. The public saw the visible bridge. But behind the scenes was an unseen, guiding presence—a man unable to stand, building through the determined hands of another. Without that unseen guidance, the bridge would never have stood. In a similar but far deeper way, Psalm 127 invites us to recognize the unseen hand of God in every area of our lives. We may see the bricks, tools, plans, and human effort—but Scripture reminds us that behind our visible work is an invisible Builder, Protector, and Provider who makes all things stand. Psalm 127 is one of the Songs of Ascents—pilgrims sang these psalms as they journeyed up toward Jerusalem. As they climbed, they reminded themselves of this fundamental truth: human effort without divine involvement is ultimately empty. The psalm opens with the blunt yet liberating reality: “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain.” The psalmist is not condemning building or guarding or working; he is showing us the limits of our human strength and the necessity of God’s hand in all things. You can have bricks, mortar, resources, planning, intelligence, and human strength—but without God’s active help, the entire structure collapses. We see this principle dramatically illustrated in Genesis 11 with the Tower of Babel. God had commanded humanity to “be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth.” But the people did not want to scatter. Instead, they settled in Shinar and said, “Let us build a city and a tower

580_The God who restores our fortunes (Psalm 126) Psalm 126 When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream. 2 Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; then they said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.” 3 The Lord has done great things for us; we are glad. 4 Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like streams in the Negeb! 5 Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! 6 He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him. A few years ago, a well-known humanitarian organization released a short documentary about a village in East Africa that had endured a devastating drought. For months, the land cracked beneath the relentless sun. Wells dried up, families were displaced, and the fields that once produced grain and vegetables became nothing but dust. Many villagers left, hoping to survive elsewhere. But one day, after months of waiting, dark clouds gathered unexpectedly. A sudden downpour burst over the parched land. The villagers ran out of their makeshift shelters with tears of astonishment. Children danced barefoot in the mud, older men raised their hands toward the sky, and women began to sing. One of the elders, overwhelmed with emotion, said something unforgettable: “It feels like waking up from a dream we thought was lost.” That statement captures the heart of Psalm 126. This short psalm, the seventh of the Songs of Ascents, is a picture of God’s people standing in the rain of His mercy after a long season of drought, displacement, and longing. It is a psalm drenched in relief—one that remembers a moment so astonishing that the people could hardly believe it was happening. “When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion,” the psalmist says, “we were like those who dream.” It was as though reality suddenly became better than their imagination dared hope. God had done something so extraordinary, so unmistakably divine, that they stood stunned in gratitude. Scholars believe the psalm may reflect a time when God’s people, forced by famine to leave their hill country homes and seek survival in the lowlands, were finally brought back by God’s gracious intervention. Whatever the exact historical moment, the memory is clear: God took a displaced, discouraged, and diminished people—and restored them. They returned to the familiar hills they once feared they might never see again. Their relief overflowed into laughter, songs, and testimonies that even the surrounding nations could not ignore. The people around them said, “The Lord has done great things for them,” and Israel answered joyfully, “The Lord has done great things for us; we are glad.” This restoration is not a small act. Human history testifies how difficult it is to bring a displaced people back home. Once a community migrates—whether across a border or across an ocean—it often roots itself elsewhere. Generations grow up with new customs, new languages, new identities. But Israel’s story was different, because their return was not the result of politics