Daniel 4:34-37 – The Humility and Repentance of a King Who Realizes His Subordination to the King of Kings
34 “But at the end of that period, I, Nebuchadnezzar, raised my eyes toward heaven and my reason returned to me, and I blessed the Most High and praised and honored Him who lives forever;
For His dominion is an everlasting dominion,
And His kingdom endures from generation to generation.
35 “All the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing,
But He does according to His will in the host of heaven
And among the inhabitants of earth;
And no one can ward off His hand
Or say to Him, ‘What have You done?’
36 At that time my reason returned to me. And my majesty and splendor were restored to me for the glory of my kingdom, and my counselors and my nobles began seeking me out; so I was reestablished in my sovereignty, and surpassing greatness was added to me. 37 Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise, exalt and honor the King of heaven, for all His works are true and His ways just, and He is able to humble those who walk in pride.”
(Daniel 4:34-37)
Introduction
In Daniel 4:34-37, we witness a profound transformation in King Nebuchadnezzar as he acknowledges the supreme authority of the Most High God. This passage provides a powerful illustration of the biblical concepts of humility and repentance, particularly in the context of recognizing one’s subordination to the King of kings.
Background and Context
The passage from Daniel 4:34-37 is part of the Book of Daniel in the Old Testament, which recounts events during the Babylonian captivity of the Jewish people (circa 6th century BCE). This specific chapter is a first-person narrative attributed to King Nebuchadnezzar II, the powerful ruler of the Neo-Babylonian Empire, known for his military conquests, including the siege of Jerusalem, and his grand building projects, such as the Hanging Gardens.
In Daniel 4, Nebuchadnezzar describes a divine judgment that led to his humbling. Earlier in the chapter, he recounts a troubling dream of a great tree being cut down, which the prophet Daniel interprets as a warning from God (verses 4-27). The dream foretells that Nebuchadnezzar, due to his pride and failure to acknowledge God’s sovereignty, would lose his sanity and kingdom for a period, living like a beast until he recognizes the Most High as the true ruler over all.
How Nebuchadnezzar Arrived at His Humble State
Nebuchadnezzar’s descent into humility began with his pride and self-exaltation as a ruler who attributed his success solely to his own power (Daniel 4:30). Despite Daniel’s warning to repent and show mercy to the oppressed to avoid judgment (4:27), Nebuchadnezzar did not heed the advice. As a result, God’s judgment came upon him: he was driven from his throne, lost his sanity, and lived like an animal for a set period, often interpreted as seven years (4:31-33).
The passage in verses 34-37 marks the moment of Nebuchadnezzar’s restoration. After the decreed period, he lifts his eyes to heaven, signifying repentance and acknowledgment of God’s supreme authority. His reason returns, and he praises God, recognizing His eternal dominion and justice. Consequently, God restores Nebuchadnezzar’s sanity, kingdom, and even greater glory, leading him to proclaim God’s ability to humble the proud.
This narrative underscores themes of divine sovereignty, the consequences of pride, and the power of repentance, with Nebuchadnezzar’s transformation serving as a testimony to God’s ultimate authority over earthly rulers.
Linguistic Analysis
The Hebrew word for “humble” used in Daniel 4:37 is שְׁפַל (shᵉphal, Strong’s H8214), which means to bring low or abase. This term emphasizes the action of lowering oneself or being brought low by an external force. In contrast, “pride” is derived from גֵּוָה (geʼvah, Strong’s H1466), signifying majesty or arrogance.
The phrase “my reason returned to me” in verses 34 and 36 uses the Aramaic word מַנְדַּע (mandaʻ, Strong’s H4486), which denotes knowledge or understanding. This return of reason signifies a spiritual awakening and recognition of divine sovereignty.
Theological Significance
The Nature of True Humility
True humility, as exemplified by Jesus Christ, involves a correct understanding of one’s position in relation to God. Jesus, though equal with God, “humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8). This perfect example of humility demonstrates that it is not about self-deprecation, but about recognizing God’s supreme authority and aligning oneself with His will.
Repentance as a Response to Divine Revelation
Nebuchadnezzar’s experience illustrates how divine revelation can lead to repentance. When his “reason returned,” he recognized the Most High God’s sovereignty, leading to a dramatic change in his attitude and actions. This mirrors the Christian experience of conversion, where the Holy Spirit brings conviction and leads to repentance.
Implications for Understanding the Kingdom of God
God’s Sovereignty Over Earthly Kingdoms
The passage emphasizes God’s eternal dominion and His authority over all earthly rulers. This concept is central to understanding the Kingdom of God, which transcends and supersedes all human kingdoms.
The Transformative Power of Humility
Nebuchadnezzar’s transformation from pride to humility demonstrates the power of God to change even the most arrogant heart. This change is a key aspect of entering and participating in God’s Kingdom, as Jesus taught, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:3).
Christological Fulfillment
Jesus Christ, as the perfect embodiment of humility, fulfills and exemplifies the principles seen in Nebuchadnezzar’s experience. His life, death, and resurrection demonstrate the ultimate submission to God’s will and the exaltation that follows true humility.
Conclusion
The concepts of humility and repentance, as illustrated in Daniel 4:34-37, are foundational to understanding our relationship with the King of kings. By following Christ’s example of perfect humility, believers can experience the transformative power of God’s kingdom and participate in His eternal reign.
Disciple-Maker’s Short Story
The Weight of Grace
The morning dew clung to the grass like tiny crystals, catching the first rays of sunlight as Jeremy and Manny made their way along the park’s winding trail. Their breathing had settled after their run, but Jeremy could sense an unusual tension in his mentor’s silence. They stopped at a wooden bench overlooking a small pond, where a family of ducks glided across the still water.
“Your teaching last night,” Manny began, his voice gentle but firm. “You’ve got good insights, Jeremy. But I noticed something that reminded me of my younger self.”
Jeremy felt his shoulders tighten. He’d been proud of last night’s discussion on spiritual disciplines. The group had been engaged, taking notes, nodding along. “What do you mean?”
Manny watched the ducks for a moment. “Do you remember the story of Nebuchadnezzar?”
“The king who lost his mind and ate grass?” Jeremy shifted on the bench. “Sure, but what’s that got to do with—”
“He was brilliant, capable, successful,” Manny continued. “Built mighty Babylon. But he forgot something crucial: where his authority came from.” He turned to face Jeremy. “Last night, when Sarah tried to share her perspective on contemplative prayer, you shut her down pretty quickly.”
The memory made Jeremy wince. He’d dismissed her contribution as “too mystical,” asserting that his more structured approach was clearly biblical.
“I was just trying to keep things doctrinally sound,” he defended, but the words felt hollow as they left his mouth.
“Like Nebuchadnezzar, we can become so convinced of our own wisdom that we forget who the real King is.” Manny’s voice carried no judgment, only compassion. “Jesus, who had all authority, chose to wash feet. To listen to the overlooked. To guide with questions and self discovery.”
The morning breeze carried the scent of wildflowers, and Jeremy found himself thinking of Jesus’ parables about seeds and growth—how the Kingdom often came through gentle nurture rather than force.
“I thought being a strong leader meant having all the answers,” Jeremy admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But that’s not really like Jesus at all, is it?”
Manny smiled. “The strongest trees bend with the wind, brother. Real authority, like Jesus showed us, comes from serving, from creating space for others to grow.” He patted Jeremy’s shoulder. “It’s not about having an iron fist, but about having an open hand.”
Jeremy watched a young duck break away from its family, experimenting with its own path before rejoining the group. He thought about Sarah’s uncommon insight, about other voices he might have silenced without realizing it.
“I want to be more like Him,” Jeremy said finally. “More like Jesus. But I guess that means I need to do some unlearning first.”
“That’s the beauty of grace,” Manny replied, standing up. “It gives us room to grow, to fail, to learn. Just like you give your church members that same grace.” He gestured toward the trail ahead. “Ready for another lap?”
Jeremy nodded, feeling somehow both humbled and lifted up. As they resumed their walk, the morning sun warming their shoulders, he began to see his role differently—not as a ruler of his small kingdom, but as a servant in a far greater one.
“The getting of treasures by a lying tongue is a fleeting vapor and a snare of death.”
Proverbs 21:6
Intelligence Treasure Trove
The Stellar Scout hung like a wraith amid the shattered husks of the debris field, its matte-black stealth coating drinking in the feeble starlight that dared to pierce this desolate reach of the galaxy. The twisted remnants of forgotten battles drifted lazily past, jagged silhouettes against the faint shimmer of a distant nebula. Inside the cramped command deck, the air buzzed with the hum of electronics and the unspoken tension of a crew teetering on the edge of a decision that could ripple through the war-torn stars.
Wade hunched over the tactical display, his synthetic fingers dancing across the controls as he fine-tuned the feed. The holographic projection flickered, then stabilized, revealing the Skravak repair base in all its menacing glory—a grotesque lattice of alien metallurgy, half-entombed in the skeletal remains of derelict hulks. Its spires jutted like claws, grasping at the void, and Wade’s gut tightened at the sight. He’d seen Skravak outposts before, but this one felt… wrong. Too quiet. Too deliberate.
“Movement detected,” Mayumi’s voice sliced through the stillness, sharp and precise as a laser scalpel. She leaned forward in her sensor station, her almond eyes narrowing as she parsed the incoming data. “The Transapora is pulling into dock.”
Every head snapped to the main viewscreen, the Confederation freighter filled the display, its massive, utilitarian bulk a stark contrast to the predatory elegance of the Skravak base. The Transapora was a leviathan of commerce—blocky, unlovely, and painted in the muted grays of the Confederation Merchant Fleet—yet here it was, gliding toward the alien dock with a grace that belied its tonnage. Its running lights blinked in slow, methodical patterns, and the faint shimmer of its maneuvering thrusters cast ghostly reflections off the surrounding debris.
“They’re taking on fuel,” Jay muttered, his fingers hovering over the helm controls like a pianist poised for a crescendo. His brow creased as he studied the freighter’s approach vector. “But why here? Why now? This isn’t some backwater refueling stop.”
Wade’s mind churned, a storm of possibilities battering his thoughts. He straightened, his broad shoulders squaring as he turned to face his crew. “We’ve got a choice to make,” he said, his baritone steady but edged with steel. “The destroyer’s still out there, prowling the perimeter. We could follow it when it breaks orbit—stick to the original plan. Or…” He gestured toward the Transapora on the screen. “We shadow that freighter and figure out what in the world it’s doing cozying up to the Skravak.”
Kristen crossed her arms, her lean frame taut with unease as she studied the image. Her dark eyes flicked from the freighter to the alien base and back again, her lips pressing into a thin line. “A Confederation freighter this far out raises too many questions,” she said, her voice low and measured. “The destroyer’s just doing its job—patrolling, sniffing for trouble. But that ship…” She shook her head, a strand of black hair escaping her tight bun. “It’s not supposed to be here. No trade routes, no resupply lanes, nothing. What’s it hauling in Skravak space?”
“Exactly,” Wade agreed, his gaze locking with hers. “The destroyer’s a known quantity—Skravak muscle flexing for the sector. But the Transapora? That’s a wild card. It might lead us to something bigger—supply lines, black-market deals, maybe even a traitor in the Confederation ranks.”
Mayumi swiveled her chair to face them, her fingers still poised over her console. “If we’re going to Command with this, we need more than a hunch,” she cautioned, her tone clipped but not dismissive. “Intel has to be actionable—timely and accurate—or it’s just noise. Following the Transapora could give us the meat we need, but it’s a gamble. We lose the destroyer, and we might miss a tactical shift in their patrol patterns.”
Jay snorted, leaning back in his seat with a wry grin. “Yeah, and if we stick with the destroyer, we might just end up chasing our tails while that freighter waltzes off with the real prize. I say we take the shot—follow the Transapora. My gut’s screaming there’s more to this than fuel cells and spare parts.”
“Your gut’s been almost always right,” Kristen affirmed, though her tone encouraging. She tapped a finger against her forearm, her mind clearly racing. “Still… you can see how neat this feels. A Confederation ship docking with the Skravak like it’s a scheduled pit stop? That’s not sloppy smuggling—that’s coordination.”
Wade nodded, his jaw tightening. “Then we’re agreed. The Transapora’s our mark. Mayumi, prep an intel burst for Command—everything we’ve got so far. Skravak base coordinates, the freighter’s ID, docking timestamp, the works. Flag it priority alpha—Command needs to know what we’re chasing and why.”
Mayumi’s hands flew across her console, her movements a blur of efficiency. “Composing now,” she said, her voice tight with focus. “Skravak repair base at grid Zulu-Niner-Four, confirmed active. Confederation freighter Transapora, registry CFM-4472, docked at 0317 hours galactic standard. Observed fueling operation, no visible escort. Intent to pursue and report further findings.” She paused, glancing up at Wade. “Adding our positional data and a request for backup if this turns hot. Encryption’s set—quantum key’s cycling—but the relay’s going to be dicey this deep in the debris field. We’re relying on the tight-beam buoy at the sector edge, and it’s a long haul to Command.”
“How long?” Wade pressed, his voice betraying a flicker of impatience.
“Best case, eight days,” Mayumi replied, her expression grim. “Worst case, twelve—if the buoy’s compromised or the signal scatters. We’ll be on our own until then.”
“Too long,” Jay muttered, his grin fading. “If that freighter’s carrying what I think it is, twelve days could see it vanish into some Skravak bolt-hole—or worse, link up with a battle group we can’t handle.”
“Then we don’t let it out of our sight,” Wade said firmly, uncrossing his arms and stepping toward the tactical display. “Jay, when she moves plot a shadow course—keep us in their baffles, low-emission profile. We stay ghosts until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“Got it,” Jay replied, his fingers diving into the helm controls. The Stellar Scout’s engines thrummed faintly as he began calculating vectors, threading a needle through the debris field to trail the Transapora without tripping its sensors. “Course laid in—ready to move when she does.”
Wade watched the freighter on the viewscreen, its hull now kissed by the faint blue glow of Skravak fuel conduits snaking into its ports. His pulse quickened, a mix of adrenaline and dread coiling in his chest. “Send the report, Mayumi,” he ordered. “And let’s pray that it hits Command’s desk before this blows up in our faces.”
Mayumi tapped the transmit key, and a faint chirp confirmed the burst had launched into the void. “Sent,” she said, exhaling sharply. “Now we wait—and hope the buoy’s still in one piece.”
The crew fell silent, the weight of their choice settling over them like a shroud. The Transapora loomed on the screen, an enigma wrapped in Confederation colors, and beyond it, the Skravak base pulsed with alien menace. Whatever lay ahead, the Stellar Scout was committed now—adrift in the echoes of the void, chasing shadows that might just lead them to salvation… or doom.
Heading to No Where
Hours bled into one another on the command deck steeped in a silence so thick it seemed to hum against the bulkheads. The crew watched the Transapora with predatory focus, their breaths shallow, their nerves taut as monofilament wire. The Confederation freighter hung in the void, its fueling complete, its hull now sealed and gleaming under the Skravak base’s eerie indigo glow. Then, without warning, its engines flared—a sudden bloom of plasma that lit the debris field like a supernova’s echo. The massive ship pivoted with ponderous grace and surged forward, carving a path through the wreckage.
“She’s moving,” Jay announced, his voice a low growl of anticipation. His hands danced over the helm, coaxing the Stellar Scout from its hiding place among the derelict husks. The scout ship slipped into the freighter’s wake, a shadow trailing its prey, its stealth systems purring as they masked its emissions. “Matching velocity—keeping us in her baffles. They won’t see us unless they’re looking hard.”
“Good,” Wade replied, his eyes fixed on the viewscreen. “Stay sharp. We don’t know where she’s headed—or what’s waiting.”
The Transapora didn’t disappoint. It executed a series of precise hyperspace jumps, each one a calculated plunge into the uncharted abyss beyond Confederation borders. The Stellar Scout followed, its own jump drive whining under the strain as Jay threaded them through the quantum eddies left in the freighter’s wake. With every transition, the stars shifted, their patterns growing stranger, more alien, until the familiar constellations of charted space were little more than a memory. Wade felt the weight of isolation pressing in, a cold hand on the back of his neck. They were far from home now—far from reinforcements, far from anything resembling safety.
Arriving at Answers
At last, the freighter’s final jump spat them out above a planet that looked like a wound in the cosmos. Its surface was a mottled expanse of rust-red and ochre, scarred by swirling dust storms that churned with savage fury. Bands of grayish haze streaked its atmosphere, and jagged peaks thrust upward like the broken teeth of some long-dead beast. The Transapora didn’t hesitate—it angled downward, its descent a pre-programmed ballet of thrusters and stabilizers, cutting through the turbulent skies toward a landing zone lost in the haze.
“Designated KX-19,” Mayumi said, her voice clipped as she pulled up the scant data from the scout’s databanks. “No official Confed record—just a survey marker from a probe flyby decades ago. No life signs detected.” She paused, her fingers hovering over the sensor controls as the readings refined. “But there’s activity down there. Massive energy signatures—thermal plumes, electromagnetic spikes. It’s… mining operations, but on a scale I’ve never seen. And it’s all automated. AI-driven, no biological signatures anywhere.”
Wade’s jaw tightened, a muscle twitching beneath his stubble. “AI mining on an uncharted rock, serviced by a Confed freighter in Skravak space? That’s not a coincidence—it’s part of the conspiracy, I’m sure of it.” He turned to his crew, his decision crystallizing. “We need eyes on the ground. Jay, prep the Badger for drop. Kristen, you’re with me. Mayumi, take us down within ten clicks from the nearest structure to drop the Badger, keep low and bring the Scout back to low orbit—watch the Transapora and scream if anything changes.”
“Badger’s hot in five,” Jay said, already unstrapping from his seat and heading for the shuttle bay. “I’ll get you all close enough to read serial numbers—assuming I don’t have too much fun gettin’ you there.”
Kristen shot him a dry look as she grabbed her gear. “Try not to. I’d hate to walk back.”
The descent through KX-19’s atmosphere was a brutal gauntlet. The Badger—a squat, armored hovercraft built for punishment—shuddered as Jay punched the accelerator and it shot off the back ramp of the Scout into roiling clouds of rust-colored dust. Winds howled against its hull, clawing at the stabilizers, but Jay’s hands were steady on the controls, his piloting a masterclass in precision. Wade gripped the co-pilot’s chair, his stomach lurching as the craft bucked, while Kristen braced herself in the troop bay, her rifle already slung across her chest. The viewscreen flickered with static, then cleared as they broke through the storm layer, revealing the structures ahead.
It was a mechanical cacophony. A sprawling network of drills, conveyors, and processing plants stretched to the horizon, their skeletal forms illuminated by the dull red glow of the planet’s sun filtering through the haze. Towering rigs plunged into the earth, their rhythmic hammering a low thunder that vibrated through the Badger’s frame. Conveyor belts snaked across the terrain, ferrying heaps of glittering ore to cyclopean smelters that belched plumes of acrid smoke. Drones flitted through the air—sleek, insect-like machines with no markings, their movements synchronized to a fault. Everything operated with cold, relentless precision, a symphony of automation devoid of a single human hand.
“She touched down two klicks east,” Jay reported, nodding toward the Transapora’s landing site as he eased the Badger into a controlled hover. The freighter squatted amid the chaos, its cargo bay yawning open as a swarm of loader drones began unloading crates stamped with Confederation seals. “Looks like she’s offloading fast—whatever they’re hauling, they don’t want it sitting long.”
Wade’s eyes narrowed as he studied the scene. “Ore’s one thing, but those crates… that’s not raw material. That’s processed—maybe weapons-grade.” He unbuckled his harness and stood, his voice hardening. “Take us behind that ridge, Jay. We’re going in close. I want to know what the Skravak and the Confed are cooking up down here—and why it’s worth hiding from the galaxy.”
Jay grinned, a flash of teeth against his dark skin. “On it boss.” The Badger skimmed the terrain until it settled behind a jagged outcrop of rock, its engines winding down to a whisper. Dust swirled around them, settling slowly in the thin atmosphere as the hatch hissed open.
Wade was first out, his boots crunching against the gritty soil as he swept the area with his rifle’s scope. “Clear,” he called, his voice coming across the comms in Kristen’s helmet. “But stay low—these drones might not care about us, but I’d rather not test their programming.”
Kristen followed, her own weapon at the ready, her gaze locked on the distant Transapora. Beyond the freighter, the mining complex pulsed with activity, its AI overseers oblivious—or indifferent—to the intruders in their midst. Whatever secrets this planet held, they were buried deep in that ore—and in the shadowed alliance that had brought a Confederation ship to this forsaken rock. The Stellar Scout’s crew had chased the Transapora this far; now, it was time to peel back the void’s veil and see what lay beneath.
Kristen crouched low behind a rusted ore hauler, her scanner humming softly as it drank in the machine’s secrets. “This tech,” she said, her voice a mix of awe and unease, “it’s Confederation-derived, no question. But it’s… mutated. The servos, the power grid—it’s like it’s been rewriting itself for decades, adapting to this dust-choked rock without a human hand to guide it.” Her fingers traced the air above the hauler’s hull, following the faint glow of her holo-display as it mapped the machine’s innards: a lattice of self-repairing circuits and fractal energy conduits that no sane engineer would’ve dreamed up.
Wade grunted, his eyes narrow as he swept his pulse rifle’s scope across the barren landscape. The mining facility sprawled before them like a mechanical cancer—towering smelters belching plumes of ash, conveyors grinding endlessly under their own inscrutable logic, and skeletal cranes clawing at the sky. “No human’s ever set foot here,” he muttered, his voice taut with the certainty of a man who’d seen these things before. “This is all automated. A ghost op running on borrowed time and stolen blueprints. Whoever—whatever—built this didn’t want us poking around.”
Compromised
Before Kristen could reply, a piercing wail shredded the stillness—an alarm, sharp and synthetic, rising from the facility’s core like the scream of a wounded beast. Wade’s comm crackled to life, Mayumi’s voice cutting through the static: “Skravak sentinel drones incoming! Multiple contacts—bearing two-seven-zero, closing fast!”
Wade snapped his rifle to his shoulder, his posture shifting from wary observer to predator in an instant. “Back to the Badger!” he roared, his boots kicking up clouds of reddish dust as he broke into a sprint. Kristen fell in beside him, she dropped her scanner to dangle on a short lanyard as she drew her sidearm—a compact plasma pistol that whined as it charged. Sleek, predatory shapes breached the horizon: Skravak mech drones, their hulls glinting like obsidian under the weak sun, their weapon ports already glowing with the promise of death.
The air ignited with the hiss and snap of plasma bolts, each shot a streak of violet fire that seared the ground where they’d stood moments before. One bolt grazed a nearby hauler, slagging its flank into molten ruin; another punched a fist-sized hole through a conveyor strut, sending sparks cascading like a meteor shower. Wade fired on the move, his pulse rifle barking in controlled bursts—each shot a pinpoint of blue-white energy that splashed harmlessly against the drones’ shields. “What?” he snarled under his breath. “Didn’t even scratch it!”
They dove into the Badger’s hatch, the air thrumming with the basso growl of its engines. Jay had the ship prepped and roaring. “Go, go, go!” Wade bellowed, slamming the hatch control. The Badger lurched forward with a bone-rattling shudder, its thrusters screaming as Jay poured every ounce of power weaving in between mining apparatus to throw the drones off.
They swarmed after them, a pack of mechanical wolves nipping at their heels. Their weapons fire stitched a deadly pattern across the Badger’s hull—plasma rounds and kinetic penetrators leaving blackened scars and hairline fractures in the ceramsteel plating. Jay threw the ship into a series of gut-churning evasions, banking hard and spiraling through the thinning dusty surface like a madman dancing on a razor’s edge. A drone’s missile streaked past, detonating in a fireball that rocked the Badger and sent a cascade of warning icons across the cockpit displays.
“They’re too fast!” Kristen shouted, bracing herself against a bulkhead as the deck bucked beneath her. “We can’t shake them!”
Wade stabbed a finger at the comm panel, his voice a whipcrack of command. “Mayumi! We need extraction—now!”
The Stellar Scout’s reply was immediate—a shadow falling across the sky as the larger ship dropped from its overwatch orbit, its hull scarred but unbowed one foot off the ground. The back ramp yawned open like the maw of some ancient leviathan, a beacon of salvation amid the chaos. Jay’s hands gripped over the controls, his jaw clenched tight as he lined up the approach. “Hold onto something!” he yelled, and then the Badger dove for it, threading a needle no sane pilot would attempt. Metal screamed as the smaller ship grazed the Scout’s bay edges, shedding paint and a shower of sparks before slamming home with a jolt that threw Wade and Kristen to the deck.
Steel Away
The ramp slammed shut, and the Scout’s engines roared to full power, clawing for orbit as the drones peppered its hull with desperate parting shots. Jay found his way to the nav/comms seat and took control of the Scout. Mayumi was only too glad to relinquish command to the superior pilot. Armor plating buckled under the barrage, and a proximity alert wailed as a plasma salvo grazed the starboard nacelle, sending a tremor through the ship’s frame. “Jumping in 3… 2… 1…” Jay called out, his voice steady despite the chaos.
The universe twisted as hyperspace engulfed them, the familiar gut-punch of transition silencing the alarms for a blessed moment. Then reality snapped back, and the command control station glowed an ominous red under emergency lighting. Damage reports scrolled across every screen: hull breaches sealed by auto-foam, power conduits overloaded, and a dozen minor systems flickering on the edge of failure. The Badger, nestled in the Scout’s bay, groaned like a wounded animal, its hull pocked and smoking.
Wade dragged himself to his feet, his breath ragged as he met Kristen’s wide-eyed stare. Sweat streaked her face, and her hand still gripped the plasma pistol like a lifeline. They’d escaped—barely—but the cost was etched in the shuddering deck beneath them and the flickering displays overhead. “What on earth was the Transpora doing there?” Kristen whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of what they’d seen.
Wade shook his head, his mind racing as he stowed his rifle. “Something to do with the conspiracy I’m sure. And the whole planet was…automated. Something similar but beyond our tech. And something that didn’t want us snooping around.” He glanced at the scrolling damage logs, then back at her. “We’ve kicked a hornet’s nest, Kris. Question is, how important is this—and what’s it hiding?”
The adrenaline ebbed, leaving a cold clarity in its wake. They’d survived, but survival was just the opening salvo. Whatever lay buried in that forsaken mining world, it was no mere relic. It was alive, in its own way—and it had secrets that could reshape everything they thought they knew. The real fight, Wade realized, was now assessing the Scout’s flight worthiness and getting the intel back to command.
Welcome Back! Today, we’ll be looking at the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke to see how Jesus addressed Peter’s pride and lack of insight into the ways of God.
From that time on Jesus began to teach and show His disciples that He, the Son of Man, must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be rejected by them and that He must be killed and on the third day be raised to life. He spoke this message quite frankly, and Peter took Him aside and began to rebuke Him. “Far be it from You, Lord!” he said. “This shall never happen to You!” But Jesus, turning and looking at His disciples, rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind Me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to Me. For you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.”
My Thoughts
Peter would later write this promise and warning in his first epistle;
You younger men, likewise, be subject to your elders; and all of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, for GOD IS OPPOSED TO THE PROUD, BUT GIVES GRACE TO THE HUMBLE. Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time…
1 Peter 5:5-6
He had experience. He knew what it was like to go from hero to zero in a matter of minutes. Just a minute earlier he was being blessed by his Master and the next he was labeled one of the worst villains in the universe; Satan. Yes, Peter warns us from his own combat experience, “Take it from me, humble yourself because when God humbles you, it ain’t pretty.”
Here’s five indicators of true humility;
Self-Aware: A humble person recognizes their strengths and weaknesses without arrogance or self-deprecation, staying grounded in who they are. Pride can come in two forms – elevating oneself or putting oneself down. Both are focused on self. (Romans 12:3)
Grateful: They express appreciation for what they have and give credit to others, rather than acting entitled or self-focused. (1 Thessalonians 5:18)
Teachable: They listen, accept feedback, and admit mistakes, showing they don’t claim to have all the answers. (Proverbs 12:15)
Others Focused: They prioritize others’ needs or perspectives with kindness and respect, not for recognition but out of genuine care. (Philippians 2:3-4)
Generous: Humble individuals give freely—of their time, resources, or support—without expecting anything in return, reflecting a lack of ego in their actions. (Luke 6:38)
My Story
I was in the Chaplain’s Basic Course as a brand new chaplain but not a brand new soldier. I had already served as an infantryman for 19 years. I knew I needed to enter into this new phase of my career with some humility but the obstacle course got the better of me. With a spirit of competition and pride swelling in my chest, I attacked each obstacle like I was 19 years old. One problem, I was actually 38! I did finish the course in record time and showed I was the man…with two broken ribs and a wacked out spine. I didn’t let on that I was in pain at the moment of my “grand victory.” But the next morning standing in formation with all my fellow chaplains, I crumpled to the ground in pain. They had to physically carry me to the ER. Pride comes before the fall…and pain.
Tisk, tisk. I keep reminding myself; “humble yourself before you get humbled…under the mighty hand of God.”
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Study the Bible to find instances where Jesus’ disciples acted arrogantly and note His response or actions.
Share the insights from your Bible study with those you are mentoring.
Take time in church to confess prideful behaviors in your lives.
There is great safety in the bunker of humility. Let’s learn from Peter’s combat experience and dodge those “Pride Mines.”
Prefiero ser humilde que humillado – #112
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo, Marcos y Lucas para ver cómo Jesús abordó el orgullo de Pedro y su falta de comprensión de los caminos de Dios.
¡Comencemos!
Mateo 16:21-23, Marcos 8:31-33, Lucas 9:22
Desde entonces, Jesús comenzó a enseñar y a mostrar a sus discípulos que él, el Hijo del Hombre, debía ir a Jerusalén y sufrir mucho a manos de los ancianos, los principales sacerdotes y los escribas, y ser rechazado por ellos, y que debía ser ejecutado y resucitar al tercer día. Les habló con toda franqueza, y Pedro lo tomó aparte y comenzó a reprenderlo. «¡Lejos de ti, Señor! —dijo—. ¡Esto nunca te sucederá!». Pero Jesús, volviéndose y mirando a sus discípulos, reprendió a Pedro y le dijo: «¡Quítate de delante de mí, Satanás! Me eres tropiezo. Porque no piensas en las cosas de Dios, sino en las de los hombres».
Mis Pensamientos
Pedro escribiría más tarde esta promesa y advertencia en su primera epístola:
Ustedes, jóvenes, igualmente, estén sujetos a sus ancianos; y todos, revístanse de humildad unos con otros, porque Dios se opone a los soberbios, pero da gracia a los humildes. Humíllense, pues, bajo la poderosa mano de Dios, para que él los exalte a su debido tiempo…
1 Pedro 5:5-6
Él tenía experiencia. Sabía lo que era pasar de héroe a cero en cuestión de minutos. Un minuto antes estaba siendo bendecido por su Maestro y al siguiente era etiquetado como uno de los peores villanos del universo: Satanás. Sí, Pedro nos advierte desde su propia experiencia de combate: «Créanme, humíllense, porque cuando Dios los humilla, no es agradable».
Aquí hay cinco indicadores de verdadera humildad:
Consciente de sí mismo: Una persona humilde reconoce sus fortalezas y debilidades sin arrogancia ni autodesprecio, manteniéndose firme en su identidad. El orgullo puede manifestarse de dos maneras: enalteciéndose o despreciándose. Ambas se centran en uno mismo. (Romanos 12:3)
Agradecido: Expresa su aprecio por lo que tiene y reconoce el mérito de los demás, en lugar de actuar con presunción o egocentrismo. (1 Tesalonicenses 5:18)
Educable: Escucha, acepta la retroalimentación y admite sus errores, demostrando que no pretende tener todas las respuestas. (Proverbios 12:15)
Enfocado en los demás: Prioriza las necesidades o perspectivas de los demás con amabilidad y respeto, no buscando reconocimiento, sino por un interés genuino. (Filipenses 2:3-4)
Generoso: Las personas humildes dan libremente —de su tiempo, recursos o apoyo— sin esperar nada a cambio, lo que refleja una falta de ego en sus acciones. (Lucas 6:38)
Mi Historia
Estaba en el Curso Básico de Capellán como capellán flamante, pero no como soldado novato. Ya había servido como soldado de infantería durante 19 años. Sabía que debía afrontar esta nueva etapa de mi carrera con humildad, pero la carrera de obstáculos me venció. Con un espíritu de competencia y un orgullo que me inundaba el pecho, afronté cada obstáculo como si tuviera 19 años. ¡Un problema, tenía 38! Terminé el curso en tiempo récord y demostré que era el hombre… con dos costillas rotas y la columna vertebral destrozada. No dejé entrever el dolor que sentía en el momento de mi “gran victoria”. Pero a la mañana siguiente, en formación con todos mis compañeros capellanes, me desplomé en el suelo de dolor. Tuvieron que cargarme físicamente a urgencias. El orgullo precede a la caída… y al dolor.
Tic, tic. Sigo recordándome a mí mismo: “Humíllate antes de ser humillado… bajo la poderosa mano de Dios”.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicarlo. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:
Estudia la Biblia para encontrar ejemplos de cómo los discípulos de Jesús actuaron con arrogancia y observa su respuesta o acciones.
Comparte las enseñanzas de tu estudio bíblico con tus mentores.
Dedica tiempo en la iglesia a confesar comportamientos orgullosos en tu vida.
Hay gran seguridad en el refugio de la humildad. Aprendamos de la experiencia de combate de Pedro y evitemos esas minas del orgullo.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
“Now when the attendant of the man of God had risen early and gone out, behold, an army with horses and chariots was circling the city. And his servant said to him, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” So he answered, “Do not fear, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” Then Elisha prayed and said, “O LORD, I pray, open his eyes that he may see.” And the LORD opened the servant’s eyes and he saw; and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha. When they came down to him, Elisha prayed to the LORD and said, “Strike this people with blindness, I pray.” So He struck them with blindness according to the word of Elisha.”
2 Kings 6:15-18
The Hunt Interrupted
The Stellar Scout F290 leapt into hyperspace, its fusion drives humming as it chased The Transapora’s course into the void. Wade Kovacs settled into the navigator’s chair, the glow of the tactical display reflecting in his eyes. Rephidim-5’s red dust and desperate settlers faded into memory, replaced by the weight of Elkiah’s warning—a rogue freighter spiriting ore to unknown ends. The crew buzzed with purpose, their faith bolstered by the fledgling church they’d left behind. Kristen’s quiet prayer lingered in the air, a steady anchor as they plunged deeper into uncharted space. Jay adjusted their course with his usual precision, while Mayumi pored over manifests, hunting for clues in the freighter’s cryptic path. Hours blurred into days, the ship’s rhythm—shifts, drills, scripture—a lifeline against the endless black. They were hunters now, tracking shadows with a higher calling. Exhaustion crept in, and Wade finally surrendered to sleep, trusting Jay’s steady hands at the helm.
The rhythmic hum of the twin engines had lulled Wade into a deep sleep. In his dreams, he was back on Earth, walking through a sun-dappled forest with Kristen by his side, the scent of pine and her laughter filling the air. Suddenly, he was back at Ranger school in a live fire with the Skravaks. He jolted awake as the ship’s warning system sliced through his subconscious like a jagged blade, ripping him from his dreams back to reality.”
Wade’s eyes snapped open, his body tensing as he reached for his data pad beside the bunk. The soft blue lighting of his individual berth had switched to a pulsing red glow, casting eerie shadows across the compact space. The clever storage solutions—recessed shelves and fold-out panels—that usually made the crew quarters feel spacious now seemed to close in around him, the walls vibrating faintly with the ship’s growing urgency.
“Warning. Skravak vessel detected. All personnel report to battle stations immediately,” the ship’s AI announced, its synthetic calm a jarring counterpoint to the chaos bleeding through the hull.
Wade’s heart thudded as he threw off his covers and grabbed his flight suit from the locker. He yanked on his boots, the Skravak name igniting a phantom ache in his titanium hand. His mind lurched back to that day—two years ago, pinned in the waste hatch of a Skravak derelict. He’d been last out, adrenaline pumping after the Argus had been ambushed. The hatch had been their escape, a rusted maw they’d pried open. He could still hear the hiss of his suit sealing, feel the cold metal brushing his glove—then the scream of hydraulics as the AI rebooted. The hatch slammed shut, shearing through flesh and bone, his arm a mangled ruin spurting crimson into the void. Jay’s hands had clamped his sleeve, Bikram’s desperate blow severing the last threads, the shuttle’s corpsmen a blur as the freighter exploded behind them. That day, vengeance had burned in him—a Ranger’s rage at the Skravaks’ cold efficiency. Now, as the destroyer closed in, fear clawed at that old wound—not for himself, but for Kristen, Jay, Mayumi. What if he lost them to this unforgiving enemy? The blare of the ship’s alarm snapped him back to the present.
Red Alert Rising
“How close?” he barked at the AI, his voice rough with sleep and adrenaline.
“Skravak vessel is approximately 50,000 kilometers and closing rapidly,” the AI replied, its tone maddeningly even.
He stumbled into the narrow corridor, nearly colliding with Kristen, who clutched her medical kit with white-knuckled hands. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, her hazel eyes sharp despite the tension etched into her posture. “CCS?” she said, using the military shorthand for the Central Command Station. Wade nodded, and they sprinted down the passage, boots clanging against the metal deck.
The CCS door hissed open, revealing a scene of controlled pandemonium. Jay Ringler hunched over the pilot’s station, his wiry frame taut as his hands darted across the controls, adjusting thruster outputs with practiced precision. Mayumi Ringler sat in the nav/comms seat, her face illuminated by the flickering light of holographic displays, her fingers a blur as she parsed incoming data. The cockpit’s tight, two-person configuration kept everything within arm’s reach—just as Lieutenant Commander Goering had promised during their grueling training sims back at Command.
“Status report,” Wade demanded, bracing himself against the bulkhead as the ship shuddered faintly—likely Jay tweaking their course.
“Skravak destroyer on an intercept course,” Jay said, eyes locked on his screen, his voice clipped but steady. “It’s taken a beating already—sensor array’s partially fried, probably from a recent scrap. Closing fast, though.”
Wade leaned over the tactical display, its 3D projection between Jay and Mayumi painting the enemy ship in stark reds and oranges—a hulking, predatory silhouette bristling with weapon ports. “How bad’s the damage?”
“Their long-range active scans are crippled,” Mayumi said, her Japanese accent sharpening as she focused. Her fingers danced over the interface, pulling up a diagnostic overlay. “They’re leaning hard on passive sensors and visuals—closing in to compensate for the blind spots.”
Wade’s mind raced, snagging on a memory from high school history class—old submarine tactics, vessels lurking silent on the ocean floor while destroyers rained depth charges from above. A flicker of an idea took root. “Jay, how’s our EMP capacitor?”
Jay glanced up, a spark of realization in his hazel eyes. “Fully charged—been sitting at max since our last resupply. You thinking what I think you’re thinking?”
Wade’s lips curled into a grim smile. “We hit them with an EMP, drop to that planet’s surface”—he jabbed a finger at a rocky, storm-lashed world spinning slowly on the display—”deploy decoys, and go dark. Like subs in the old wars, waiting out the hunters.”
Faith vs Flight
“EMP, decoys, and hide?” Jay spun in his seat, hazel eyes narrowing. “We’ve got hyperspace juice—why not jump now, outrun them?” His fingers hovered over the controls, itching to act.
“Submarines?” Kristen asked, arching an eyebrow as she slung her med kit over her shoulder.
“Read about it in school.” Wade said, the memory sharpening. “They’d sink to the bottom, kill all systems but the bare minimum, and sit tight while the enemy pounded the water. If the Skravaks think we’re slag, they might leave—or better yet, lead us somewhere useful.”
Mayumi’s head snapped up from her console. “Their intercept speed’s too high—43,000 klicks and closing. They’d catch us mid-jump, shred us before we’re gone.”
Kristen frowned, slinging her med kit tighter. “What about a distress call? Command could scramble backup—we’re not equipped for this.”
Wade’s jaw tightened, Elkiah’s datapad flashing in his mind—rogue ore shipments, shadows in the void. “No signal,” he said. “We’re too deep, and this ties to The Transapora. We run, we lose the lead. We fight smart instead.” He tapped the display, the planet’s storms swirling below. “EMP blinds them and then we drop, go dark. Old sub tactics and we’ll outlast the hunter.”
Jay scoffed, tension cracking his bravado. “Your history hunch better pan out, boss. One pulse misfire, we’re toast.”
“More are with us than with them,” Wade shot back, voice steady, echoing 2 Kings 6:16. “We’ve got the edge—faith and tech. They’re crippled already.”
Mayumi nodded, numbers aligning in her head. “Their sensors are shaky—an EMP could finish them.”
Kristen exhaled. “Risky, but I’m in. Let’s move.”
Wade met their eyes—doubt lingered, but trust won. “Then let’s hit it.”
Mayumi nodded, her analytical mind already running the numbers. “They’d have to get close to confirm a kill—real close.”
“And if we tail them after,” Jay added, his hands hovering over the controls, “we might track them to a repair base. That destroyer’s too busted to limp far without a dock. We turn this into a recon goldmine.”
“Exactly,” Wade said, adrenaline surging. “What’ve we got for decoys?”
Mayumi tapped her console, pulling up the cargo manifest. “Spare parts—engine coils, hull plating—plus empty specimen containers and that busted sensor buoy we were hauling back to base. I can rig them to mimic our EM and heat signatures.”
“Do it,” Wade ordered. “Jay, plot a descent to the planet—low and fast, use the terrain. Kristen, prep the EMP burst—wide dispersal, max yield. Mayumi, get those decoys into the launch bay. We’ve got one shot before they’re on us.”
The next fifteen minutes dissolved into a frantic symphony of motion. Kristen knelt at the panel, hands steady as she rerouted power to the EMP capacitor. She wasn’t just the Scout’s medic anymore—necessity had forged her into its engineer too, a prodigy’s mind bending to the ship’s demands. Back on New Annapolis, her photographic memory had stunned Psych-school profs; she’d recite textbooks verbatim, diagnose rare conditions in seconds. The Scout’s cramped reality—four souls, no dedicated technician—had forced her to evolve. Kristen had devoured the ship’s manuals in a night, every schematic etched in her brain. She’d rewired shorted consoles during a meteor storm, patched a breached hull with scavenged plating, all while stitching up Jay’s gashed arm. Now, tying the EMP into the comm array, she visualized each circuit—blueprints unrolling in her mind’s eye. Her fingers danced, splicing lines with surgical precision, a medic’s calm fused with an engineer’s grit. “Max yield, wide spread,” she muttered, the stakes as familiar as a patient’s pulse. Wade’s nod anchored her; she’d become the ship’s lifeline, one crisis at a time.
In the cargo bay, Mayumi and Jay tore into the decoy drones—sleek, expendable pods the size of a man. They stripped out non-essentials, stuffing them with hull fragments, scorched wiring, and the sensor buoy’s radioactive core. “Boosting their emitters,” Mayumi said, soldering a connection. “They’ll scream our signature loud enough to wake the dead.”
Jay hefted a chunk of engine shielding into place. “Mass distribution’s key—they’ve got to scatter like a real wreck, or the Skravaks’ll smell the ruse.”
Pulse of Survival
Back in the CCS, Wade tracked the destroyer’s approach on passive sensors—its sleek, obsidian hull glinting as it closed the gap, plasma weapon ports glowing faintly violet. “Forty thousand klicks,” he muttered. “They’re not slowing down.”
“EMP’s primed,” Kristen called, sliding back into her seat. “Say the word.”
“Decoys loaded,” Mayumi reported over the intercom, her voice taut. “Spread pattern’s set—2-kilometer dispersal on launch.”
“Descent locked,” Jay said, hands gripping the yoke. “We’ll skim at 500 meters—canyons and dust storms’ll give us cover.”
Wade took a steadying breath, the weight of command settling on his shoulders. “Hit it.”
Kristen slammed the trigger. A silent pulse erupted from the Scout, an invisible shockwave rippling outward. The Skravak destroyer faltered mid-flight, its running lights stuttering as the EMP slammed into its crippled systems. Wade pictured their bridge crew scrambling…if they had a crew… long-range sensors dissolving into a haze of static.
“Now, Jay—drop us!” he shouted.
The Scout plunged toward the planet, engines howling as Jay threaded through swirling dust clouds and jagged, rust-red peaks. The hull groaned, G-forces pinning the crew to their seats, loose gear rattling in the compartments. At 500 meters, Mayumi punched the launch command. A dozen decoys streaked from the bay, fanning out across a 12-kilometer arc, their emitters blaring the Scout’s heat, EM, and transponder signals like desperate ghosts.
Jay nosed the ship into a shadowed ravine—a deep, wind-carved gash in the planet’s surface—and settled it amid a cluster of boulders. “Powering down,” he said, flipping switches in rapid succession. The engines’ hum faded to silence, the lights dimmed to a faint emergency glow, and the CCS went still save for the soft hiss of life support. Only passive sensors stayed live, feeding a grainy, monochrome view of the sky above.
Wade lowered his voice to a whisper. “Here they come.”
The Skravak destroyer loomed into low orbit, its plasma weapons igniting like miniature suns. Violet beams lanced downward, striking the decoys with surgical precision. Each hit erupted in a molten plume, vaporizing metal and kicking up geysers of dust. Then the bombardment widened—random, furious salvos of plasma raining across the surface, gouging craters and shaking the ground beneath the Scout. The hull trembled with each distant impact, the air thick with the crew’s held breaths.
“They’re buying it,” Mayumi murmured, her eyes glued to the sensor feed. “Targeting’s locked on the decoy spread—erratic, though. They’re madder than a wet hen.”
Wade clenched his prosthetic hand, the submarine analogy anchoring him. “Stay quiet. We wait them out—just like those old crews under the sea.”
Kristen shot him a sidelong glance. “You really think this’ll work?”
“Worked for them,” Wade said softly. “Depth charges or plasma bolts, same game. They’ll tire out and move on.”
The barrage stretched on, minutes bleeding into an hour. Dust plumes clogged the atmosphere, veiling the Scout’s position in a hazy shroud. The crew sat rigid, the silence broken only by the occasional thud of a stray bolt or the creak of settling metal. Finally, the plasma fire tapered off. The destroyer lingered, deploying a trio of sleek probes to sift through the wreckage—charred debris and melted alloys passing for the Scout’s corpse.
“They’re scanning,” Mayumi whispered, her voice barely audible. “Standard salvage pattern—looking for proof.”
Wade’s jaw tightened. “Let them look. We’re a ghost.”
Kristen prayed out loud in a whisper, “Father, blind them like You blinded the enemies of Elisha. Protect us and turn this to our advantage, in Jesus’ name.”
Ghosts of Recon
The probes circled for agonizing minutes, their faint hum detectable through the hull’s audio pickups. At last, the destroyer recalled them, emitting a short, encrypted burst. Mayumi’s eyes narrowed. “Victory signal—Skravak ‘target neutralized’ protocol. We’ve cracked enough of those to know the pattern.”
“Good,” Wade said, exhaling. “Now the fun part. Jay, they moving?”
Jay studied the feed. “Climbing out—slowly. Vector’s shifting toward sector seven-nine-three. They’re limping—engines at half output.”
“The EMP softened them up,” Wade said. “Mayumi, their sensors?”
“Long-range are toast,” she confirmed. “That pulse overloaded what was left—they’ll need a dock to fix it.”
Wade leaned forward, a predatory glint in his eye. “Then we follow. Jay, ease us up—five percent thrust, shadow their course. Mayumi, engage the hull’s stealth coating. Kristen, cycle our heat through the specimen sinks. We’re hunting now.”
“What’s the play?” Kristen asked, her hands already on the controls.
“We tail them to their base,” Wade said. “A destroyer that size doesn’t crawl home without repairs. We map it, study it, bring the intel back to Command. The Scout’s built for sneaking—let’s prove it.”
The next ten hours tested their skill and patience. Jay nursed the Scout upward, using the planet’s storms as cover, nudging the ship with minimal thruster bursts to avoid detection. Mayumi tuned the hull’s metamaterials—military-grade coatings that bent light and absorbed scans—until their signature vanished into the background noise. Kristen rerouted engine heat into the lab’s cryogenic storage, the near-absolute-zero chambers swallowing their thermal trail.
“They’re adjusting course,” Jay reported, his voice hoarse from focus. “Turning toward a dense debris field—looks artificial.”
Mayumi magnified the feed, excitement creeping into her tone. “Not natural—too uniform. Spectral spikes suggest a camouflage screen. Probably a repair outpost.”
Wade nodded, his mind racing. “Take us in slow, Jay. Find a spot to park among the junk—power down to life support and passives. We watch, we learn, we gather intel.”
The Scout glided into the debris field—a sprawling graveyard of twisted hulls, shattered satellites, and faint interference waves pulsing from hidden emitters. Jay wove through the chaos, settling the ship behind a jagged hulk—a derelict freighter’s gutted frame. Systems winked out one by one, the CCS plunging into near-darkness as the crew shifted to minimal power.
The Skravak destroyer maneuvered deeper into the field, its plasma-scarred hull vanishing behind a curtain of debris. Mayumi recorded its every move, her console logging entry patterns and signal bursts. “Complex approach,” she murmured. “They’re hiding something big.”
“Look at this,” Kristen said, pointing to a sensor spike. “The debris is generating a jamming field—broad-spectrum, low intensity. No wonder we’ve never pinged this place.”
Wade’s prosthetic hand flexed unconsciously, the stakes sinking in. They’d turned a desperate escape into a recon coup—penetrating a Skravak stronghold no human had ever glimpsed. “Settle in, friends,” he said, voice low but firm. “We’re here for the long haul. Map their defenses, analyze their ships, log everything. This could change the war.”
Jay cracked a tired grin. “Beats getting plasma-fried.”
“You got that right,” Mayumi said, already tweaking the passive arrays for better resolution.
Kristen leaned back, exhaling. “Guess your submarine trick paid off, Wade.”
He smirked faintly. “Old wars, new tricks. Now let’s make it count.”
As the Scout went dark, pride surged in Wade’s chest. The F290 had outfoxed a destroyer—and now it would peel back the Skravaks’ secrets, one silent scan at a time. The real mission had just begun.
The Temporal Nature of Earthly Kingdoms: A Biblical Analysis of Supreme Loyalty to the Eternal King
“Then the iron, the clay, the bronze, the silver and the gold were crushed all at the same time and became like chaff from the summer threshing floors; and the wind carried them away so that not a trace of them was found. But the stone that struck the statue became a great mountain and filled the whole earth… In the days of those kings the God of heaven will set up a kingdom which will never be destroyed, and that kingdom will not be left for another people; it will crush and put an end to all these kingdoms, but it will itself endure forever. Inasmuch as you saw that a stone was cut out of the mountain without hands and that it crushed the iron, the bronze, the clay, the silver and the gold, the great God has made known to the king what will take place in the future; so the dream is true and its interpretation is trustworthy.”
Daniel 2:35,44-45
Introduction
The short answer to the question is “Yes, but… . In Daniel 2:31-45, we encounter a profound prophecy that should temper our loyalties and allegiance to any earthly nation. This passage, particularly the phrase “not a trace of them was found” from Daniel 2:35, offers a striking contrast between the transient nature of earthly kingdoms and the eternal reign of God’s kingdom. This concept is pivotal in understanding the biblical call for supreme loyalty to the King of Kings over patriotic allegiance to earthly nations.
Linguistic Analysis
The phrase “not a trace of them was found” in Daniel 2:35 is translated from the Aramaic “וְלָא־הִשְׁתֲּכַח לְהוֹן כָּל־אֲתַר” (wə·lā- hiš·tə·ḵaḥ lə·hō·wn kāl-‘ă·ṯar). The key term here is “הִשְׁתֲּכַח” (hiš·tə·ḵaḥ, Strong’s H7912), which means “to be found” or “to be present.” In this context, it’s used with a negative particle to emphasize complete absence or disappearance.
Theological Significance
This linguistic nuance underscores the utter dissolution of earthly powers in the face of God’s kingdom. It echoes Jesus’ teachings about the temporary nature of worldly authority and the supremacy of God’s reign (Matthew 6:19-20). The concept reveals God’s sovereignty and the futility of placing ultimate trust in human institutions.
Jesus as the Perfect Example
Jesus exemplified the perfect balance between respecting earthly authorities and maintaining supreme loyalty to God’s kingdom. His statement, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (Mark 12:17), demonstrates this principle. Jesus showed respect for earthly authorities but never compromised His allegiance to the Father’s will.
Implications for Understanding the Kingdom of God
The phrase “not a trace of them was found” points to the comprehensive nature of God’s kingdom. It suggests that when God’s reign is fully established, all competing powers will be completely eradicated. This concept aligns with Jesus’ parables about the kingdom of God, such as the mustard seed (Matthew 13:31-32), which grows to overshadow all else.
Divine Attributes and Redemptive Plan
This concept reveals God’s omnipotence and eternal nature. It demonstrates His ability to overcome all earthly powers and establish His everlasting kingdom. The prophetic vision in Daniel points to Christ’s eternal reign, fulfilling God’s redemptive plan for humanity.
Christological Fulfillment
Jesus fulfills the vision of the rock “cut out, but not by human hands” that shatters the statue of earthly kingdoms—Babylon, Persia, Greece, and Rome—demonstrating His divine authority over all human powers. This rock, symbolizing Christ, strikes the statue’s feet and becomes a great mountain that fills the earth, representing His everlasting kingdom established through His redemptive work and the spread of the gospel across all nations. Unlike the temporary empires of the vision, Jesus’ reign as the Messiah ushers in a divine kingdom not built by human effort but by God’s sovereign will. His triumph as the rock and mountain signifies the eternal rule of God, bringing justice, peace, and salvation to the world.
Transformative Power for Believers
Understanding this concept transforms how believers view their citizenship. While we may have earthly nationalities, our primary allegiance is to Christ’s kingdom. This perspective should shape our priorities, values, and actions, leading us to invest in eternal matters rather than temporary earthly concerns.
Conclusion
As Christians, we can indeed take pride in our country’s heritage, show respect to leaders and national symbols like flags, and even serve in the military to defend our nation. These actions can be expressions of good citizenship and stewardship of the blessings God has given us through our national identity. However, it’s crucial to maintain a balanced perspective. The vision in Daniel 2 serves as a powerful reminder that all earthly kingdoms, no matter how great, are ultimately temporal. The stone cut without hands, representing God’s kingdom, will one day crush all earthly powers, leaving not a trace of them behind. This prophetic image cautions us against allowing our national allegiance to compete with or supersede our supreme loyalty to God. While we can honor our earthly nations, we must always remember that our true citizenship is in heaven (Philippians 3:20), and our ultimate allegiance belongs to the eternal Kingdom of God, which will endure forever.
The aroma of sizzling burgers and crispy fries wafted through the air as Alex and Jose settled into their booth at Burger Haven. The familiar chatter of lunchtime patrons and the clink of trays provided a comforting backdrop to their conversation.
Alex took a sip of his soda, his eyes twinkling with purpose. “So, Jose,” he began, carefully selecting his words, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something important. Are you a Christian?”
Jose’s eyebrows shot up, a hint of indignation coloring his features. He set down his half-eaten burger with a soft thud. “I’m an American, aren’t I?” he retorted, his tone carrying a mix of pride and defensiveness.
Alex leaned forward, his expression softening. “I hear you, my friend, but being an American and being a Christian are two very different things. Let me explain.”
As Jose listened, his initial defensiveness began to melt away, replaced by genuine curiosity. Alex’s words painted a vivid picture of two distinct realms – the temporal and the eternal.
“You see,” Alex continued, gesturing with a french fry, “our citizenship here in America is a blessing, no doubt. But there’s another citizenship that transcends borders and time itself – citizenship in the Kingdom of God.”
Jose’s brow furrowed. “Kingdom of God? Sounds pretty abstract to me.”
Alex nodded, understanding his friend’s skepticism. “It might seem that way at first, but it’s as real as the burger in your hand. Think of it this way: our nation, as great as it is, will one day not exist and won’t even be remembered. But God’s kingdom? It’s eternal.”
Alex leaned forward, his eyes shining with conviction. “Jose, let me share something personal with you. There was a time when I felt lost and guilty. A friend explained to me that God loves us so much that He sent Jesus to Earth. Jesus lived a perfect life, died on the cross for our sins, and was buried, but the good news is He rose again three days later, proving He’s the true King.”
Jose listened intently, his burger forgotten.
Alex continued, “I prayed, asking God for forgiveness and for Jesus to be my King. I immediately felt forgiven and free. It changed my life forever. Have you ever considered asking God for forgiveness and making Jesus your King, Jose?”
Jose shook his head slowly, absorbing the information.
“You see,” Alex explained, “there are actually two kingdoms at war with each other. We’re born into the kingdom of darkness, ruled by Satan. He’s a liar who says you don’t have to serve him, you can serve yourself, but in the end, he brings death, darkness, and destruction. But Jesus is the King of the Kingdom of Light. He offers life, light, and love for eternity if we turn from our selfish ways and serve Him as our King.”
Alex paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “We live in this brief bubble called life, Jose. In 70 or 80 years, it pops. Whichever king we served is where we’re going to spend all eternity. My question for you is: which king are you serving?”
Jose sat back, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve never thought about it like that before. It’s a lot to take in.”
Alex nodded understandingly. “I know it can seem overwhelming, but it’s the most important decision you’ll ever make. The good news – the gospel – is at the heart of this. Jesus preached the gospel of the kingdom, and that’s what I’m sharing with you now.”
Jose gathered his tray, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and contemplation. “Thanks for sharing this, Alex. I have a lot to think about.”
As they stepped out into the sunlight, Jose felt as though he was seeing the world through new eyes. The American flag waving in front of the restaurant took on a different meaning now – a symbol of earthly citizenship, important but no longer ultimate.
“You know what, Alex?” Jose said, a newfound determination in his voice. “I think I’d like to hear more about this Jesus and how I can follow Him as my King.”
Alex smiled encouragingly. “Remember, Jose, it’s not about being an American or following a religion. It’s about choosing which kingdom you want to be part of – the Kingdom of Light or the kingdom of darkness. The decision is yours, but I’m here if you want to talk more about it.”
And with that, the two friends set off, their conversation no longer just about countries and borders, but about a kingdom that would outlast all others – a kingdom where true freedom and eternal purpose awaited.
Welcome Back! Today, we’ll be looking at the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke to see where to give credit when one of Jesus’ men comes up with a good answer.
Then Jesus and His disciples went on to the villages around Caesarea Philippi. One day, on the way, Jesus was praying in private and He questioned His disciples: “Who do people say I, the Son of Man, am?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets of old has arisen.” “But what about you?” Jesus asked. “Who do you say I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by My Father in heaven. And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build My church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.” Then He strictly admonished the disciples not to tell anyone that He was the Christ.
My Thoughts
Once again the “Master of the Question” gets to the core of the disciple’s faith. They had been with Jesus for some time now and Jesus wanted to measure His impact. He starts with those outside the intimate circle; “Who do people say I, the Son of Man, am?” The masses were just guessing. They really had no clue who Jesus was. Then He asks His own. (Surely His disciples would have a fighting chance to come up with the correct answer.) And once again, it’s Peter; “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
It would be very natural for us to say; “Wow Peter! You’re on it like a bonnet!” Surely we’d like to take credit if we made such a simple and yet profound statement. But that’s where we would be so so wrong. (Peter will prove in just a few minutes that he’s not all that we and he thinks he is. More on that later.)
No, Peter has nothing to be proud of. He was given the right answer “by the Father in heaven.” And this underscores two essential qualities we are looking for in our disciple-making. First, humility and second, that the people we are mentoring are hearing from God Himself.
My Story
It’s happened to me a hundred times. I’ll be talking, preaching, or writing and I’ll walk away from the experience saying; “WOW, There is no way I came up with that on my own!” Yes, I feel an incredible sense of joy to know that I’m not that smart or wise or intuitive or…whatever. It was a gift from heaven and just as Jesus pointed that out to Peter, I think we need to remind ourselves and those we are discipling that the Holy Spirit is actually speaking through us.
But as I’m writing this I’m wondering; “As I have gotten older and more experienced, am I starting to think I’m coming up with all this good stuff?” Or even worse, in my pride I might be telling God, “I got this Lord, don’t worry, I’m on the job.” I think that would be a huge mistake!
So let me give credit to where credit is due. If you have thought something I said was wise, or you’ve read something I wrote and it was transformative, let’s give all glory to God. Let’s acknowledge where the true wisdom comes from and be exhilarated as disciple-makers that He is actually using us to advance His kingdom. If you’ve thought just the opposite and thought I was way off, I’ll take full credit for that. But, would you let me know where I’m messing up…gently, please. 😀
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
If you have experienced the Holy Spirit giving you things to say that you know you didn’t come up with, take time right now to thank God and acknowledge His gift.
Do some reflection. Did you take credit for something God had done? Make that right by confession and repentance.
Are those you’re discipling growing in humility and acknowledging God’s work in their lives?
At the end of the day, it’s all about giving credit where credit is due—God’s the one who gives us the right words and wisdom. Let’s stay humble, thank Him for working through us, and keep cheering each other on as we grow in faith together.
No soy tan inteligente – #111
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos los Evangelios de Mateo, Marcos y Lucas para ver a quién reconocer cuando uno de sus discípulos da una buena respuesta.
¡Comencemos!
Mateo 16:13-20, Marcos 8:27-30, Lucas 9:18-21
Luego, Jesús y sus discípulos se dirigieron a los pueblos de los alrededores de Cesarea de Filipo. Un día, en el camino, Jesús estaba orando en privado y preguntó a sus discípulos: «¿Quién dice la gente que soy yo, el Hijo del Hombre?». Ellos respondieron: «Unos dicen que Juan el Bautista; otros, que Elías; y otros, que Jeremías o uno de los antiguos profetas ha surgido». «¿Y ustedes, qué?», preguntó Jesús. «¿Quién dicen que soy yo?». Simón Pedro respondió: «Tú eres el Cristo, el Hijo de Dios vivo». Jesús respondió: «¡Bienaventurado eres, Simón, hijo de Jonás! Porque esto no te lo reveló carne ni sangre, sino mi Padre celestial. Y yo te digo que tú eres Pedro, y sobre esta roca edificaré mi iglesia, y las puertas del Hades no prevalecerán contra ella. Te daré las llaves del reino de los cielos. Todo lo que ates en la tierra quedará atado en los cielos, y todo lo que desates en la tierra quedará desatado en los cielos». Luego amonestó severamente a los discípulos para que no dijeran a nadie que él era el Cristo.
Mis Pensamientos
Una vez más, el “Maestro de la Pregunta” llega al corazón de la fe de los discípulos. Llevaban tiempo con Jesús, y Jesús quería medir su impacto. Comienza con quienes estaban fuera de su círculo íntimo: “¿Quién dice la gente que soy yo, el Hijo del Hombre?”. La gente solo adivinaba. No tenían ni idea de quién era Jesús. Entonces les pregunta a los suyos. Seguramente sus discípulos tendrían una oportunidad de dar la respuesta correcta. Y una vez más, es Pedro: “Tú eres el Cristo, el Hijo de Dios vivo”.
Sería muy natural que dijéramos: “¡Guau, Pedro! ¡Estás en lo más alto!”. Seguramente nos gustaría atribuirnos el mérito si hiciéramos una afirmación tan simple y a la vez tan profunda. Pero ahí es donde estaríamos totalmente equivocados. (Pedro demostrará en unos minutos que no es todo lo que nosotros y él cree ser. Hablaremos de eso más adelante).
No, Pedro no tiene nada de qué enorgullecerse. Recibió la respuesta correcta “del Padre celestial”. Y esto subraya dos cualidades esenciales que buscamos en nuestro discipulado: primero, la humildad; y segundo, que las personas a quienes mentoreamos escuchen a Dios mismo.
Mi Historia
Me ha pasado cientos de veces. Estoy hablando, predicando o escribiendo y al final de la experiencia me voy diciendo: “¡Guau! ¡Es imposible que se me haya ocurrido eso solo!”. Sí, siento una alegría increíble al saber que no soy tan inteligente, ni sabio, ni intuitivo, ni nada. Fue un regalo del cielo y, tal como Jesús se lo señaló a Pedro, creo que debemos recordarnos a nosotros mismos y a quienes estamos discipulando que el Espíritu Santo realmente está hablando a través de nosotros.
Pero mientras escribo esto, me pregunto: “Con la edad y la experiencia que he adquirido, ¿estoy empezando a pensar que se me están ocurriendo todas estas cosas buenas?”. O peor aún, en mi orgullo, podría estarle diciendo a Dios: “Ya lo tengo, Señor, no te preocupes, estoy trabajando”. ¡Creo que sería un gran error!
Así que, permítanme reconocer quién lo merece. Si has pensado que algo que dije fue sabio, o has leído algo que escribí y te resultó transformador, demos toda la gloria a Dios. Reconozcamos de dónde proviene la verdadera sabiduría y, como hacedores de discípulos, sintamos la alegría de que Él realmente nos esté usando para el avance de su reino. Si has pensado justo lo contrario y has pensado que estaba muy equivocado, me atribuyo todo el mérito. Pero, ¿podrías decirme dónde me estoy equivocando? Con delicadeza, por favor. 😀
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicar. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:
Si has sentido que el Espíritu Santo te ha dado cosas que decir que sabes que no se te ocurrieron, tómate un tiempo ahora mismo para agradecer a Dios y reconocer su don.
Reflexiona. ¿Te atribuyeste el mérito de algo que Dios hizo? Repártelo con la confesión y el arrepentimiento.
¿Están tus discípulos creciendo en humildad y reconociendo la obra de Dios en sus vidas?
Al final, se trata de reconocer a quien lo merece: Dios es quien nos da las palabras y la sabiduría adecuadas. Mantengámonos humildes, agradezcamos su obra a través de nosotros y animémonos mutuamente mientras crecemos juntos en la fe.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”
Galatians 6:9
Voyage to Rephidim-5
The Stellar Scout F2-90 sliced through the void, its fusion drives pulsing with a rhythmic hum that reverberated through the ship’s skeleton. Lieutenant Wade Kovacs stood behind the navigator’s seat, his cybernetic hand resting lightly on the edge of the bulkhead. The faint whir of servos accompanied his every movement—a reminder of both his sacrifice and the technology that now defined him. Across from him, Jay Ringler, the ship’s pilot, adjusted their trajectory with deft precision, his fingers dancing across the controls.
“Course correction complete,” Jay announced, his voice calm but clipped. “We’re locked on for Rephidim-5. ETA: 72 hours.”
Wade nodded, his gaze fixed on the holographic display in front of him. The screen showed a three-dimensional map of their route, with Rephidim-5 marked as a faint red dot on the edge of known space. The Scout was a reconnaissance vessel, not a warship, and its mission was simple: recon and surveillance. But Wade couldn’t shake the feeling that something was waiting for them out there.
“Keep an eye on those long-range sensors,” Wade said, his voice low but firm. “I don’t want any surprises.”
Jay smirked but didn’t look up from his station. “Relax, Ranger. If there’s anything out there bigger than a stray asteroid, I’ll spot it before it spots us.”
Behind them, Ensign Kristen Kovacs—Wade’s wife and the ship’s medic—entered the bridge carrying two steaming mugs of synth-coffee. She handed one to Wade and placed the other beside Jay before leaning against the opposite bulkhead from Wade.
“You two look like you’ve been glued to those stations for hours,” she said with a hint of amusement. “Take a break before you burn out.”
Wade took a sip of the bitter liquid and gave her a grateful nod. “Thanks, Kris. But I’d rather stay sharp than get caught off guard.”
Kristen raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. She knew Wade well enough to recognize when he was in “mission mode.” It was one of the things she admired about him—and one of the things that sometimes drove her crazy.
Life Aboard the Stellar Scout
The first weeks aboard the Scout had been an exercise in adaptation for all four crew members—especially as two newly married couples. As individuals and pairs, things got a little awkward; with no time to adjust to married life before the mission, they had to figure it out on the fly amidst the ship’s demands. The vessel itself didn’t help: small and cramped, its corridors were barely wide enough for two people to pass without brushing shoulders. Every inch of space was utilized for equipment or storage, leaving little room for personal comforts—or the privacy newlyweds might crave.
Wade had struggled most with the transition. His training as a Marine and Ranger had prepared him for vast open spaces, but the ship’s cramped quarters felt suffocating. His cybernetic hand didn’t help matters; it seemed to snag on every loose cable or protruding panel.
One particularly frustrating incident occurred during their second week aboard. Wade had been stowing gear in their shared quarters when his prosthetic caught on Kristen’s medkit, sending its contents spilling across the floor.
“Blast it!” he muttered under his breath as he knelt to pick up scattered syringes and diagnostic tools.
Kristen crouched beside him, her expression calm but tinged with exasperation. “You know,” she said dryly, “it wouldn’t kill you to slow down once in a while.”
Wade sighed and handed her a roll of synth-skin patches. “Sorry. Still getting used to this… thing.” He flexed his mechanical fingers as if to emphasize his point.
Kristen placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not just about the hand, Wade. You’re not out there anymore—you’re here, with us. Try to remember that.”
Her counseling skills and emotional intelligence made all the difference in smoothing over these tensions—not just for Wade, but for Jay and Mayumi too, as they navigated their own clumsy moments of married life. Still, even Kristen wore down occasionally, her patience fraying into a bad day every now and then, though she’d never let it show for long.
Drills and Discipline
The crew quickly settled into a routine designed to keep them sharp and prepared for any eventuality. Four-hour shifts at their respective stations were interspersed with maintenance drills and simulated combat scenarios. Early on, they had agreed that Wade would be in command, though with the caveat that there was room to discuss options and even disagree—but ultimately, his orders were to be obeyed.
In one such drill, Wade led Jay and Mayumi Ringler through a mock boarding scenario in the cargo bay. The space was dimly lit, its walls lined with crates and equipment that served as makeshift cover.
“Mayumi! Secure comms and relay our position to command!” Wade barked as he crouched behind a crate.
“Aye, sir!” Mayumi replied, her fingers flying over her portable console.
“Jay! Cover our flank!” Wade continued.
Jay rolled his eyes but complied, taking up position behind another crate with his training rifle at the ready.
“You know this is just practice, right? No one’s actually trying to kill us.”
“That’s what they always say—until someone is,” Wade shot back without missing a beat.
The exchange drew a quiet huff from Mayumi, who glanced at Jay as if to say, He’s not wrong, but still…
She didn’t voice it, though—she knew the deal: Wade’s word was final, even if they could debate it later. A clear leader kept them focused in a crisis, yet the space for discussion ensured their skills and morale stayed sharp—a balance that could mean survival out here.
Kristen watched from the sidelines, arms crossed and lips quirked in a faint smile. She admired her husband’s dedication but couldn’t help wondering if he sometimes took things too seriously. Still, she appreciated the balance he allowed—space for discussion, even if obedience was non-negotiable.
Faith Under Pressure
Amid their grueling schedule, the crew—all committed disciples of Jesus—had established a regular rhythm of gathering for reflection, a time they’d come to look forward to, taking turns facilitating discussions through Galatians. In the dimly lit common room, they’d sit around the table with ration packs, sharing the role of reading scripture and opening up about the highs and lows they were experiencing. They knew unresolved conflict could fracture the team, risking mission failure—not to mention falling short of the Great Commands to love God and each other.
One evening, it was Mayumi’s turn, the newest believer among them, still finding her footing in the faith. She read steadily from Galatians: “And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap if we do not give up.” Her voice held a quiet resolve, and she paused before adding, “I’m still wrapping my head around this ‘due season’ part. Sometimes it feels like we’re sowing into a void out here.”
Wade looked up from his hands—one flesh, one metal—and nodded, his tone raw. “I get that. Following Him’s never been the hard part for me—it’s trusting the timing when all I see is metal walls and no harvest. Some days, I wonder if I’m still the Ranger fighting my own battles instead of letting Him lead.”
Jay leaned back, fidgeting with a piece of freeze-dried fruit, his usual bravado softened. “Honestly? I’ve been wrestling with self-doubt again. I’ll grumble about no one back home caring, but deep down, I want them to notice us—to notice me. I’m wondering if I can hack it. I don’t want to let the team down. I’ve got to trust God to shore up my weaknesses.”
Kristen’s faint smile carried a warmth tempered by weariness. “You’re not alone there, Jay. My high’s been clinging to that promise of reaping—it’s what keeps me steady. But my low? I catch myself doubting if I’m loving you all well enough when I’m worn thin. Even disciples stumble.”
Mayumi tilted her head, her eyes searching theirs. “That’s what keeps tripping me up—how do you keep going when you stumble? I’m new at this, and half the time I feel like I’m faking it, like I don’t belong with you all yet.”
Wade leaned forward, his voice firm but kind. “You belong because He says you do, Mayumi. Faking it’s just part of the fight—we all feel that sometimes. It’s why we’re here, calling it out.”
Jay grinned, a flicker of his old spark returning. “Yeah, and if I can admit I’m a doubting Thomas, you can admit you’re still learning. We’re in this together—disciples under construction.”
Kristen reached across, resting a hand near Mayumi’s. “It’s not about never stumbling—it’s about not giving up. That’s what Paul’s getting at, and it’s what Jesus is shaping in us, void or not.”
These regular sessions balanced tactical precision with introspection, a steady anchor they relied on as much as their drills kept them sharp. Unspoken conflicts aired out here couldn’t fester into dysfunction—or worse.
Beyond Resupply: A Deeper Need
The Stellar Scout emerged from hyperspace with a faint ripple, its hull shimmering briefly as it transitioned back into realspace. Rephidim-5 hung before them, a desolate red sphere marred by jagged canyons and iron-rich dust storms that swirled across its surface. Wade sat in the navigator’s seat, his eyes scanned the tactical display.
“Rephidim-5 Control,” Jay’s voice crackled over the comms, calm and professional. “This is Stellar Scout, Confederation Navy designation RS-1127. Requesting clearance for landing in Hangar Alpha.”
The reply was immediate but tinged with static. “Acknowledged, Stellar Scout. Hangar Alpha is prepared to receive you. Welcome to Rephidim-5.”
Wade glanced at Jay, who was skillfully guiding the ship into the hanger. “Bringing her in slow and steady,” he said, his tone confident and calm.
The Stellar Scout descended through the thin, toxic atmosphere, its hull glowing faintly from reentry friction. The hangar doors below slid open with a mechanical groan, revealing an environmentally controlled space lit by harsh industrial lights. The ship settled onto the deck with a soft thud, its landing struts giving slightly as they rested on the reinforced floor.
“Touchdown complete,” Jay reported briskly. “Atmospheric seals engaged in the hangar.”
“Good work,” Wade said as he rose from his seat. “Let’s get this resupply done. We’ve got a schedule to keep.”
The airlock hissed open, and the crew emerged, clad in full Marine armor.
The resupply operation was a well-rehearsed ballet of logistics. Water tanks were refilled, ration crates were uploaded, and fuel cells were replaced. The settlers of Rephidim-5, a hardy but weary group of pioneers and misfits, assisted in the process, their faces gaunt and weathered. But beneath the surface of cooperation, Kristen sensed a simmering resentment. They moved with a sluggishness that spoke of suppressed frustration, their gazes lingering on the Scout with a mixture of envy and accusation.
Kristen noticed an older woman, her face etched with lines of hardship, watching them with a mixture of hope and apprehension. The woman approached her hesitantly, her voice raspy and cracking.
“Are you with the Navy?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Kristen replied. “We’re here to resupply.”
The woman nodded slowly, her eyes scanning the crates being loaded. “We’ve been waiting a long time for our own resupply. Supplies are low, morale is even lower.” She paused, her gaze searching Kristen’s. “Tell me, Ensign…do you think anyone back in the Confederation even remembers we’re out here?”
Kristen met her gaze steadily, her voice filled with conviction. “Yes, ma’am. We remember. And we won’t forget.”
The woman managed a wan smile, but it quickly faded. “Remembering isn’t enough, Ensign. We’re feeding your war effort while our children go hungry.” Her voice hardened, the earlier hope replaced by a weary anger. “Why should we sacrifice for a Confederation that barely acknowledges our existence?”
Kristen recognized the desperation in the woman’s words. “Ma’am, I understand your frustration. We’re not blind to the sacrifices you’re making. We’re here to help, and we want to ensure you get what you need.” Kristen paused, choosing her words carefully. “Perhaps we can discuss how to better allocate the resources we have. I’m confident we can find a solution that addresses your immediate needs while still fulfilling our mission.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, suspicion clouding her features. “What do you know about our needs? You come and go in your fancy ship, while we’re stuck here scratching out a living on this dustball.”
Kristen took a step closer, her voice low and sincere. “I may not know everything, but I’m willing to listen. I think the way to solve our problems is by tackling them head on and really caring about people. And more than that, I have a deep faith that there is a God that cares about each and every person on this planet.”
The woman’s expression softened slightly, intrigued by Kristen’s words. “A God that cares? What makes you say that, Ensign?”
Kristen smiled gently. “Because He has shown me, personally, that He cares. He sent His Son, Jesus, to die for us, to offer us forgiveness and new life. He’s given me hope and strength in the face of challenges, and I believe He can do the same for you.”
Wade, having overheard the conversation, approached with Jay and Mayumi, sensing an opportunity to share their faith.
“It’s true,” Wade said, his voice resonating with conviction. “Before I came to faith, I was driven by duty and vengeance. But God has given me peace and purpose beyond anything I could have imagined. The same can be true for you.”
Mayumi stepped forward, her eyes shining with sincerity. “I used to feel lost and alone, searching for meaning in all the wrong places. But when I found Jesus, I found a love and acceptance that changed everything.”
Jay nodded in agreement. “I always thought I had to earn God’s love. But the truth is, He loved us even when we didn’t love Him. His love is a gift we can’t earn, only receive.”
The woman listened intently, her initial hostility giving way to a flicker of curiosity. “So, this God…what does He want from us?”
Kristen smiled. “He wants a relationship with us. He wants us to turn from our selfish ways and trust Him, to love Him, and to share His love with others. He wants to be our comfort and our strength, especially in times of hardship.”
The woman was silent for a moment, absorbing their words. “I don’t know,” she said finally, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “It sounds too good to be true.”
“I understand your hesitation,” Kristen replied. “But I encourage you to consider it. Read the Scriptures. Pray and ask God to reveal Himself to you. He’s waiting with open arms.”
The woman’s gaze flickered between the crew members, a glimmer of hope beginning to ignite in her eyes. “Maybe…maybe there’s something to this,” she whispered. “Maybe there is a God who cares.”
As the crew prepared to wrap up the resupply and return to their mission schedule, a diagnostic alert interrupted their plans. Mayumi, running a final systems check on the F-290 Scout, discovered microfractures in the gravitic coil—a critical cylindrical module laced with rare-earth superconductors that stabilized hyperspace transitions. The damage, likely caused by navigating through the corrosive dust in the atmosphere, made safe hyperspace travel impossible. With no replacement coil available on the remote planet, the team requisitioned one from the nearest supply depot, a week’s journey away. The delay, though frustrating, felt providential to the crew, offering a chance to deepen their connection with the settlers.
The team’s excitement surged at the opportunity to disciple the new believers during this unexpected stay. Kristen, Wade, Jay, and Mayumi saw the week as a divine opening to guide the settlers, whose raw faith and hunger for truth inspired them. They eagerly planned nightly Scripture studies and prayer meetings, sharing their own journeys to help the pioneers navigate their newfound faith in this harsh environment. Their enthusiasm peaked as they witnessed the settlers’ bold commitment, especially their willingness to be baptized with precious reclaimed water—a profound act of devotion. The crew felt a renewed sense of purpose, knowing they were planting a spiritual foundation that could sustain Rephidim-5 long after their departure, while also strengthening their own faith. As they prepared to depart, a small church had been planted, the first church of Rephidim-5.
Helping Both Ways
The next day as the crew performed routine maintenance on the Scout, a figure approached. He was a burly man, his face lined with years of hard labor, his eyes carrying a mixture of weariness and authority. He wore a stained mining jumpsuit and a battered helmet hung loosely from his hand. This was Elkiah , the mining boss of Rephidim-5.
“Lieutenant Kovacs?” Elkiah’s voice was gravelly, like the iron ore he oversaw being extracted.
Wade stepped forward, extending a gloved hand. “That’s right. You must be Elkiah .”
Elkiah gripped Wade’s hand firmly. “Aye. I appreciate you comin’ out here. It’s been too long.” He gestured toward a datapad he carried. “I’ve got a list of critical supplies we’re running low on. Things the requisition forms never seem to cover.”
Wade took the datapad and scanned the list. It contained items ranging from replacement drill bits and specialized lubricants to medical supplies not covered in the standard Confederation allotment. “I’ll see what I can do, sir. No promises, but I’ll make sure command knows what you need.”
As Wade spoke with Elkiah, Mayumi discreetly slipped away to a secluded corner of the hangar. She activated her comm device and, using a prearranged code, sent a message to General Redside. The message detailed the dire situation on Rephidim-5 and the specific needs of the mining colony. She ended with a coded request for additional aid, adding a request for Bibles.
One week later, a small transport ship arrived at Rephidim-5, its arrival unannounced. It carried a consignment of the requested supplies, marked as “priority cargo.” Among the crates of drill bits and lubricants was a special delivery: a crate filled with Bibles and Christian literature, courtesy of General Redside’s personal initiative. He included a memorandum that this was the first of several shipments.
The arrival of the supplies and Bibles was met with a joyous celebration among the settlers. The practical aid lifted their spirits, while the spiritual nourishment filled a deep void in their lives. The church that had begun in the woman’s home grew rapidly, drawing in new members each day, eager to learn more about the God who had remembered them.
During the commotion of unloading, Elkiah approached Wade, a grim expression on his face. “Lieutenant, there’s something you need to know.” He led Wade away from the bustling crowd, toward a quieter section of the hangar. “We’ve been shipping iron ore off-world for years, as per our contract with the Confederation. But lately, something’s been off.”
“Off how?” Wade asked, his senses on high alert.
“Some of the shipments aren’t headed back to Confederation space,” Elkiah explained. “They’re going deeper into the void. I’ve been tracking the manifests. There’s a CoreSys freighter, called The Transapora, that’s been diverting its cargo to unknown coordinates. I don’t know what they’re up to, but it can’t be good.”
Wade’s cybernetic hand tightened into a fist. “Do you have The Transapora’s last known trajectory?”
Elkiah nodded, handing Wade another datapad. “Here. I’ve compiled everything I could find. Course, speed, transponder codes… everything.”
Wade studied the data, his mind racing. A rogue freighter diverting strategic resources into the unknown reaches of space… the implications were chilling. “Thank you, Elkiah. This is invaluable.”
As the Stellar Scout prepared for launch, the crew gathered with the settlers for a final farewell. The atmosphere was markedly different from their arrival. The resentment had vanished, replaced by gratitude and a sense of shared purpose. The settlers, their material and spiritual needs being met, beamed with renewed hope. Jay prayed for the crowd who had come to see them off.
“Thank you for everything,” the woman who had first approached Kristen said, her eyes shining with tears. “You brought us more than just supplies. You brought us hope.”
“The pleasure was ours,” Kristen replied, smiling. “God bless you and we’ll keep you in our prayers.”
As preparations for departure began, Wade addressed Elkiah one last time regarding The Transapora.
“We’ll look into this freighter situation,” he assured him. “You’ve done your part; now we’ll do ours.”
Elkiah nodded solemnly before offering his hand again. “Good luck out there… and thanks for everything.”
With a final wave, the crew of the Stellar Scout boarded their ship amidst heartfelt farewells from settlers who now radiated hope instead of despair.
As they launched into orbit and set course toward The Transapora’s last known trajectory, Wade couldn’t help but reflect on how much had changed during their brief time on Rephidim-5—not just for its people but also for himself and his crew.
“Jay,” he said as he settled into the navigator’s chair, “let’s see where this rogue freighter leads us.”
“Aye, sir,” Jay replied confidently as his fingers danced across his console.
And with that, the Stellar Scout surged forward into hyperspace—a lone beacon chasing shadows in humanity’s vast frontier while carrying both truth and faith into uncharted territory.
1 Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good; for His lovingkindness is everlasting. 2 Oh let Israel say, “His lovingkindness is everlasting.” 3 Oh let the house of Aaron say, “His lovingkindness is everlasting.” 4 Oh let those who fear the LORD say, “His lovingkindness is everlasting.” 5 From my distress I called upon the LORD; the LORD answered me and set me in a large place. 6 The LORD is for me; I will not fear; what can man do to me? 7 The LORD is for me among those who help me; therefore I will look with satisfaction on those who hate me. 8 It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in man. 9 It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in princes. 10 All nations surrounded me; in the name of the LORD I will surely cut them off. 11 They surrounded me, yes, they surrounded me; in the name of the LORD I will surely cut them off. 12 They surrounded me like bees; they were extinguished as a fire of thorns; in the name of the LORD I will surely cut them off. 13 You pushed me violently so that I was falling, but the LORD helped me. 14 The LORD is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation. 15 The sound of joyful shouting and salvation is in the tents of the righteous; the right hand of the LORD does valiantly. 16 The right hand of the LORD is exalted; the right hand of the LORD does valiantly. 17 I will not die, but live, and tell of the works of the LORD. 18 The LORD has disciplined me severely, but He has not given me over to death. 19 Open to me the gates of righteousness; I shall enter through them, I shall give thanks to the LORD. 20 This is the gate of the LORD; the righteous will enter through it. 21 I shall give thanks to You, for You have answered me, and You have become my salvation. 22 The stone which the builders rejected has become the chief corner stone. 23 This is the LORD’S doing; it is marvelous in our eyes. 24 This is the day which the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. 25 O LORD, do save, we beseech You; O LORD, we beseech You, do send prosperity! 26 Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD; we have blessed you from the house of the LORD. 27 The LORD is God, and He has given us light; bind the festival sacrifice with cords to the horns of the altar. 28 You are my God, and I give thanks to You; you are my God, I extol You. 29 Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good; for His lovingkindness is everlasting.
Psalm 118
Introduction: Unveiling the Heart of Divine Sovereignty
Psalm 118 offers a profound exploration of God’s lovingkindness (חֶסֶד, hesed, Strong’s H2617) and His role as the divine King. This concept of hesed, often translated as “steadfast love” or “lovingkindness,” is central to understanding God’s character and His relationship with His people.
Linguistic Roots: Decoding the Depth of Hesed
The Hebrew term hesed encompasses loyalty, faithfulness, and covenant love. It appears repeatedly in Psalm 118, emphasizing the enduring nature of God’s love. This lovingkindness is not merely an emotion but an active force that protects, saves, and sustains.
Royal Manifestation: God as the Protective Sovereign
In the context of kingship, Psalm 118 portrays God as the ultimate sovereign who provides refuge, strength, and salvation. The psalmist declares, “The LORD is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation” (v. 14). This imagery of God as a protective and saving King foreshadows the coming of Jesus Christ, the Messiah.
Christological Fulfillment: Jesus as the Living Hesed
Jesus, as the perfect embodiment of God’s hesed, fulfills and exemplifies this kingly lovingkindness. He demonstrates God’s protective love through His sacrificial death and resurrection. The psalm prophetically points to Christ in verse 22: “The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” Jesus himself applies this verse to His own ministry (Matthew 21:42), highlighting His role as the foundation of God’s kingdom.
Transformative Implications: Living in the Kingdom of Lovingkindness
The concept of God’s kingly lovingkindness finds its ultimate expression in Jesus’ teachings and actions. He proclaims the arrival of God’s kingdom (Mark 1:15) and demonstrates divine love through healing, forgiveness, and self-sacrifice. Jesus’ parables often depict God as a merciful king, echoing the psalmist’s portrayal.
Conclusion: The Eternal Reign of Covenant Love
For believers, this understanding of God’s lovingkindness as exemplified in Christ transforms our approach to life and faith. It assures us of God’s unfailing love and protection, encourages trust in divine sovereignty, and calls us to extend this same lovingkindness to others. As we recognize Jesus as the cornerstone of our faith, we are invited to build our lives on His teachings and example, participating in the expansion of God’s kingdom characterized by love, justice, and mercy.
Psalm 118’s exploration of God’s lovingkindness and kingly protection finds its fullest realization in Jesus Christ. As the Messiah and King, Jesus embodies the hesed of God, offering salvation, protection, and eternal love to all who trust in Him. This concept continues to shape Christian understanding of God’s character and calls believers to live as citizens of His kingdom, marked by unwavering love and faithfulness.
The trout sizzled in the cast-iron skillet, its skin crisping golden-brown over the campfire. Steve watched the flames dance, his thoughts darker than the gathering dusk in the mountain valley below. The weekend camping trip had been Kevin’s idea—his mentor’s attempt to create space for the conversations Steve had been avoiding.
“You know what I can’t shake?” Steve broke the contemplative silence, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire. “Every time I try to pray, I hear his voice instead.” He didn’t need to specify whose voice; Kevin knew about Steve’s father, about the years of verbal abuse that had carved deep ravines in his soul.
Kevin adjusted a log with a stick, sending sparks spiraling into the darkening sky. “I brought something I’d like to share with you,” he said, pulling out his weathered Bible. “It’s a psalm that helped me when I was struggling with similar thoughts.”
Steve tensed slightly but nodded. The mountain air carried the sharp scent of pine and woodsmoke as Kevin began reading Psalm 118 aloud. His steady voice gave weight to each word: “From my distress I called upon the LORD; The LORD answered me and set me in a large place.”
“That’s what this feels like,” Steve gestured to the vast wilderness around them. “A large place. But sometimes it feels too large, too empty.”
“Keep listening,” Kevin encouraged, continuing to read. When he reached verse thirteen, Steve’s breath caught: “You pushed me violently so that I was falling, But the LORD helped me.”
“The psalmist knew violence,” Kevin said softly. “He knew what it meant to be pushed down. But look what he discovered—God didn’t just stop the falling. He became his strength, his song, his salvation.”
The trout needed turning. As Steve carefully flipped the fish, Kevin continued reading about the cornerstone the builders rejected. “You know who that refers to, right?”
“Jesus,” Steve whispered.
“The very one. Think about it—even Jesus knew rejection. But God made Him the cornerstone, the foundation of everything. When your father rejected you, Steve, he was just like those builders. He couldn’t see your true worth. But God, your true Father, sees you differently.”
Tears gathered in Steve’s eyes, reflecting the firelight. “But how do I trust that? How do I believe in a Father’s love when all I’ve known is—” he gestured helplessly.
“Look at verse 8,” Kevin pointed. “It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in man. Your earthly father broke that trust, but your heavenly Father’s lovingkindness is everlasting. It’s right there in verse 1, and again in verse 29. Like bookends holding everything together.”
The fish was done. As they shared the meal, Steve kept glancing at the open Bible. “You know what stands out to me?” he finally said. “Verse 18: The LORD has disciplined me severely, But He has not given me over to death. That’s different from abuse, isn’t it? There’s… purpose in it. Love, even.”
Kevin nodded. “God’s discipline shapes us, but it never destroys us. His love is different from anything we’ve experienced on earth. It’s perfect, unchanging, eternal.”
Above them, stars began appearing in the velvet sky, countless points of light breaking through the darkness. Steve picked up the Bible, his finger tracing verse 24: “This is the day which the LORD has made; Let us rejoice and be glad in it.”
“Even this day?” he asked, vulnerability raw in his voice.
“Especially this day,” Kevin replied. “Because today, you’re starting to see yourself through His eyes instead of your father’s. You’re beginning to build your life on the true Cornerstone.”
A log shifted in the fire, sending up a shower of sparks that merged with the stars above. Steve watched them rise, feeling something shift within him too—like the first stone being set on a new foundation.
Welcome Back! Today, we’ll be looking at the Gospel of Mark to see how Jesus uses a very unique way to heal a blind man and why He would do something so…unexpected.
When they arrived at Bethsaida, some people brought a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him. So He took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village. Then He spit on the man’s eyes and placed His hands on him. “Can you see anything?” He asked. The man looked up and said, “I can see the people, but they look like trees walking around.” Once again Jesus placed His hands on the man’s eyes, and when he opened them his sight was restored, and he could see everything clearly. Jesus sent him home and said, “Do not go back into the village.”
My Thoughts
Have you ever prayed and asked God to do something, only for Him to do something totally unexpected?
Imagine you’re reading this for the first time (and maybe some of you are). A blind man is brought to Jesus by “some people.” I hope it was his family or friends, not just some folks wanting to see the “Jesus Freak Show.” Anyways, I digress. There’s great anticipation that the Master is going to do what they’ve all heard about: “Heals the sick, raises the dead, and even casts out demons.”
As the man is brought forward with shaky steps, the crowd goes silent. The blind man’s eyes are lifeless, but his ears are finely tuned out of necessity. He hears “Ptooey”—and spray splashes his eyelids. In shock, he’s thinking to himself, “Did the Healer just spit in my eyes!? Wait! Now He’s rubbing it in with His hands. LIGHT! I CAN SEE LIGHT! And men like trees!”
Jesus places His hands on the man’s eyes again—and he can see clearly. Hallelujah!!!
Wait a minute. Spit!? Yup. Probably the last thing the man, the people, or His disciples expected. And that’s probably where we got the saying, “God works in mysterious ways.” But that’s not the only time God has done something totally unexpected to heal, communicate His grace, or even pass judgment.
The list is long, but my favorite example in the Old Testament is Naaman the Leper. Elisha tells a mighty general of a foreign army to go dip himself seven times in the Jordan River to be healed. The commander is furious, saying that “there are cleaner rivers back home. Why would I go dunk myself in a mudhole like the Jordan—and do that multiple times?” His servants talk some sense into him, and he obeys the prophet’s strange command. He is cleansed and has skin like that of a child!
Was it the Jordan that healed his leprosy? No. Was it the magic number seven? No. It was obedience in faith. And that, my friends, carries a major lesson about our discipleship methods.
I think Jesus healed in multiple different ways for two reasons:
Because the Father told Him to.
Because He didn’t want the method to get in the way of God’s glory—or of the faith and obedience of the recipient.
So be careful not to let your methods hijack either one!
My Story
I was just telling this story to a new friend last night. I was having a very successful career in the Army and one morning, decided to head to a nearby lake and spend some concerted time in prayer. As I was looking across the lake I noticed how full and vibrant the trees were. One tree in particular stood out. It was a bit weirdly shaped and had three distinct branches. The first was moderately full of leaves, the second more and than the third was absolutely exploding with leaves. Then God spoke. Not in an audible voice but clear as day. (For those who have had this happen to you, and there are many, you know what I’m talking about).
God was telling me this was a picture of the fruitfulness of my life. Phase one was now over. I had experienced some fruitfulness and I was very excited about what Jesus was doing in and through Deb and I’s lives. But He was telling me that phase was now ending and I was heading into the second branch. Even more fruit! He was telling me He was going to change my life. It was shortly after that God called me out of the Army to go to college and seminary and then go back into the Army as a chaplain. I definitely didn’t see that one coming! The Holy Spirit uses a weird looking tree to call me into the next fruitful phase of my life. A tree.
Now that wasn’t His last word on the calling. There was confirmation from my Bible reading, answered prayer, wise counsel, and circumstances that lined up. But it all started with the Holy Spirit showing me a vision for what could be through a tree.
Our Action Plan
Now it’s time for application. Here’s some ideas;
Ask those you are discipling, “How has God done something totally unexpected in your life?”
Ask them if they think He does that “unexpected thing” everytime or with everyone.
Ask “What is the crucial lesson that comes from God’s creative ways of speaking and ministering to His people?”
God’s ways are often unexpected, but they always serve a purpose far greater than we can imagine. Whether through spit, a tree, or a muddy river, He calls us to trust Him fully, obey in faith, and let His glory shine through the unconventional.
¿Escupir? – #110
¡Bienvenidos de nuevo! Hoy analizaremos el Evangelio de Marcos para ver cómo Jesús sana a un ciego de una forma tan singular y por qué hizo algo tan… inesperado.
¡Comencemos!
Marcos 8:22-26
Al llegar a Betsaida, trajeron a un ciego y le rogaron a Jesús que lo tocara. Él, tomándolo de la mano, lo sacó del pueblo. Luego, escupió en los ojos del ciego y le impuso las manos. “¿Ves algo?”, le preguntó. El hombre levantó la vista y dijo: “Veo a la gente, pero parecen árboles que caminan”. Jesús volvió a poner las manos sobre los ojos del ciego, y al abrirlos, recuperó la vista y pudo ver todo con claridad. Lo envió a su casa y le dijo: “No vuelvas al pueblo”.
Mis Pensamientos
¿Alguna vez has orado y le has pedido a Dios que haga algo, solo para que Él haga algo totalmente inesperado?
Imagina que estás leyendo esto por primera vez (y quizás algunos de ustedes lo estén haciendo). Un hombre ciego es llevado ante Jesús por “algunas personas”. Espero que hayan sido su familia o amigos, no solo algunos que quieren ver el “Espectáculo de Jesús Freak”. En fin, me estoy desviando del tema. Hay una gran expectación de que el Maestro haga lo que todos han oído: “Sana enfermos, resucita muertos e incluso expulsa demonios”.
Mientras el hombre es llevado al frente con pasos temblorosos, la multitud guarda silencio. Los ojos del ciego están inertes, pero sus oídos están afinados por necesidad. Oye “Ptooey” y el agua salpica sus párpados. En estado de shock, piensa: “¿¡El Sanador me acaba de escupir en los ojos!? ¡Espera! Ahora me lo frota con las manos. ¡LUZ! ¡PUEDO VER LA LUZ! ¡Y los hombres como árboles!”
Jesús vuelve a poner las manos sobre los ojos del hombre, y este puede ver con claridad. ¡Aleluya!
Un momento. ¿¡Escupir!? Sí. Probablemente lo último que el hombre, la gente o sus discípulos esperaban. Y de ahí probablemente viene el dicho: “Dios obra de maneras misteriosas”. Pero esa no es la única vez que Dios ha hecho algo totalmente inesperado para sanar, comunicar su gracia o incluso juzgar.
La lista es larga, pero mi ejemplo favorito del Antiguo Testamento es el de Naamán el leproso. Eliseo le dice a un poderoso general de un ejército extranjero que se sumerja siete veces en el río Jordán para sanar. El comandante se enfurece y dice: “Hay ríos más limpios en casa. ¿Por qué me sumergiría en un charco de lodo como el Jordán, y lo haría varias veces?” Sus sirvientes lo convencen de entrar en razón, y obedece la extraña orden del profeta. ¡Queda limpio y tiene la piel como la de un niño!
¿Fue el Jordán lo que sanó su lepra? No. ¿Fue el mágico número siete? No. Fue la obediencia en la fe. Y eso, amigos míos, nos enseña una lección importante sobre nuestros métodos de discipulado.
Creo que Jesús sanó de muchas maneras diferentes por dos razones:
Porque el Padre se lo ordenó.
Porque no quería que el método interfiriera con la gloria de Dios ni con la fe y la obediencia del receptor.
Así que tengan cuidado de no dejar que sus métodos se apropien de ninguno de los dos.
Mi Historia
Anoche le contaba esta historia a un nuevo amigo. Tenía una carrera muy exitosa en el ejército y una mañana decidí ir a un lago cercano y dedicar un tiempo a la oración. Mientras miraba al otro lado del lago, noté lo frondosos y vibrantes que estaban los árboles. Un árbol en particular destacaba. Tenía una forma un poco extraña y tres ramas distintas. La primera estaba bastante llena de hojas, la segunda más y la tercera estaba completamente llena de hojas. Entonces Dios habló. No con una voz audible, sino con la claridad del día. (Para quienes les haya pasado esto, y hay muchos, saben de qué hablo).
Dios me decía que esto era una imagen de la fecundidad de mi vida. La primera fase ya había terminado. Había experimentado cierta fecundidad y estaba muy emocionado por lo que Jesús estaba haciendo en y a través de la vida de Deb y la mía. Pero Él me decía que esa fase estaba terminando y que me dirigía hacia la segunda rama. ¡Aún más fruto! Me decía que iba a cambiar mi vida. Poco después, Dios me llamó a dejar el ejército para ir a la universidad y al seminario, y luego a regresar al ejército como capellán. ¡Definitivamente no lo vi venir! El Espíritu Santo usa un árbol de aspecto extraño para llamarme a la siguiente etapa fructífera de mi vida. Un árbol.
Esa no fue su última palabra sobre el llamado. Hubo confirmación en mi lectura de la Biblia, oración contestada, consejos sabios y circunstancias que se alinearon. Pero todo comenzó cuando el Espíritu Santo me mostró una visión de lo que podría suceder a través de un árbol.
Nuestro Plan de Acción
Ahora es momento de aplicarlo. Aquí tienes algunas ideas:
Pregúntales a quienes estás discipulando: “¿Cómo ha hecho Dios algo totalmente inesperado en tu vida?”.
Pregúntales si creen que Él hace esa “cosa inesperada” siempre o con todos.
Pregúntales: “¿Cuál es la lección crucial que se desprende de las maneras creativas en que Dios habla y ministra a su pueblo?”.
Los caminos de Dios a menudo son inesperados, pero siempre tienen un propósito mucho mayor del que podemos imaginar. Ya sea a través de saliva, un árbol o un río fangoso, Él nos llama a confiar plenamente en Él, a obedecer con fe y a dejar que su gloria brille a través de lo inusual.
Si ve un problema importante en la traducción, envíeme una corrección por correo electrónico a charleswood1@gmail.com
They will fight against you, but they will not overcome you, for I am with you to deliver you,” declares the LORD.
Jeremiah 1:19
Preparation for Graduation
The mirror in Wade’s quarters reflected a stranger – a Ranger in gleaming powered armor, its titanium-ceramic plates catching the light. The Marine Corps’ iconic anchor and globe insignia was emblazoned on the chest plate, the gold relief standing proud against the iridescent armor coating. His fingers traced the emblem’s raised edge, remembering how that same symbol had once felt impossibly out of reach. Now it sat naturally on his armor, earned through blood, sweat, and more than a few nightmares.
“Your power coupling is misaligned,” Jay announced from the doorway, already suited in his own armor, the servos humming quietly with each movement. He crossed the room and adjusted Wade’s shoulder pauldron with practiced precision. “The field harmonics need to be perfect for the neural interface. Old tradition – supposedly helps sync your movements with the armor’s response systems.”
Wade stood still, letting his friend make the adjustment. “You actually believe that?”
“After everything we’ve seen?” Jay’s helmet lights blinked in amusement. “I believe in being thorough. Speaking of which…” He produced his ragged copy of the Ranger handbook. “Metro’s got a betting pool going on which squad will mess up the Ranger Creed.” They both laughed.
The familiar routine of preparation settled over them, but this time it felt different. This wasn’t like gearing up for a combat drop or a live-fire exercise. Every motion carried the weight of ceremony, of history.
Down the corridor, other Rangers-to-be were going through their own preparations. The usual banter was muted, replaced by a focused intensity. Someone was practicing the creed in a low voice: “Recognizing I volunteered as a Ranger. Fully knowing the hazards of my chosen profession…”
Wade caught fragments of conversations as he walked the halls, his armor’s boots clicking against the deck plating, checking on his platoon one last time as their platoon sergeant:
“Did you hear? General Redside himself is conducting the ceremony—”
“My great-grandfather’s Marine Corps medallion. Been through three planetary campaigns—”
“Make sure your armor’s neural interface is calibrated exactly to—”
On the parade ground, maintenance crews were transforming the open space into something appropriately ceremonial. The battle-scarred dropships had been arranged in a perfect crescent. Each ship’s running lights pulsed in sync, creating a rippling wave of red energy that seemed to echo the heartbeats of the graduating class.
Metro was there, meticulously adjusting the holographic displays that would show their achievements to the assembled dignitaries. “They’re going to play the combat footage,” he said without looking up. “…from the Zoo on Carthis 7. The brass thinks it’ll inspire the next generation.”
Wade watched the silent replay of their most harrowing moment, now sanitized and edited for ceremony. The footage showed their squad moving through the twisted architecture of the Skravak nest, plasma rifles blasting, armor covered in the black fluid of their alien prey. The recording couldn’t capture the acidic stench of the nest, the way the ground seemed to pulse beneath their feet, or how time seemed to stretch and compress. But maybe that was the point of graduation – to transform raw experience into something that was a little more patriotic and inspire future recruits.
The chronometer above the barracks doors counted down the minutes until the ceremony. With each passing minute, the air seemed to grow thicker with anticipation. This wasn’t just about getting a Ranger Tab. This was about becoming part of something larger than themselves – a lineage of Rangers who had pushed back the boundaries of known space, who had faced the impossible and found ways to survive it.
Wade made one final check of his armor’s systems in the reflection of a viewport. Beyond the reinforced glass, Rinart 3’s earthlike landscape. A fresh rainfall created a rainbow arch over the graduation grounds. With God rays piercing the clouds. It seemed fitting – The Creator’s artwork giving approval to their endeavor to bring peace in His creation.
Now they stood ready to cross that final threshold, not as individuals but as Rangers. The tab they would ware wasn’t just protection – it was a promise to face the unknown, to push beyond the comfortable boundaries of human experience, to explore not just space but the very limits of human potential.
“Time check,” Jay announced, his voice carrying the same precision he used in the cockpit.
“Thirty minutes to formation,” Metro confirmed, his armor’s status lights glowing steady green.
Wade nodded, feeling the familiar weight of leadership settle onto his shoulders. This time, though, it wasn’t about leading them through danger or uncertainty. It was about leading them into their future, walking worthy of the tab they had earned to wear and uphold their Spartan tradition.
“Well then,” he said, cradling his helmet in the crook of his arm, “Let’s not keep the universe waiting.”
Unexpected Attendees
The parade ground buzzed with a flurry of unexpected faces, each one representing a chapter in their grueling journey. General Redside, who had been more than just a commanding officer – a constant guardian and mentor throughout their transformation – stood tall and proud, his decorated uniform gleaming in the morning sun. He took his place next to the Ranger School Commandant and Sergeant Major, his weathered face betraying a hint of paternal pride as he prepared to give his honorary remarks.
As the formation executed their precise movements in front of the gathered guests, Wade’s eyes swept across the crowd, his heart thundering against his ribcage when he spotted them – Admiral Kitzler, his presence commanding as ever, and Mrs. Kitzler, soft and looking as proud as a natural mother would be of her son. And beside her… Kristen! She stood there in a blue dress that caught the morning light, her radiant smile and unwavering gaze speaking volumes of the sleepless nights, the endless worry, and most importantly, her unshakeable love and faith in him. The sight of her nearly brought him to his knees, even in formation. “But how in the world…” His thoughts were interrupted by reminding himself he was in a parade.
Next to Kristen, arm in arm with a quiet dignity that seemed to radiate from within, stood Lieutenant Mayumi Kato. Her usual intelligent smile played across her features, but today it was softened with an almost maternal pride as she nodded respectfully towards Wade. Her presence represented the bridge between his past and future, a reminder of the path that had led him here. He knew Jay would be thrilled she made the trek to Rinart 3.
The shock of seeing his people, these pillars of his life gathered in one place, sent waves of emotion crashing through his chest, almost overwhelming his carefully maintained military bearing.
Metro’s wife stood nearby, her hands clasped tightly in front of her dress, her presence a living testament to the countless sacrifices made by all military families. The quiet strength in her bearing, the subtle way she held herself, spoke of lonely nights, delayed dinners, and unwavering support through countless deployments. Metro’s posture subtly shifted when their eyes met across the parade ground – he stood a little taller, his shoulders squaring just a fraction more, drawing strength from their silent exchange.
As the ceremony began in earnest, Wade felt a surge of emotion that threatened to break through his professional façade. These people – his mentors who had pushed him beyond his limits, his loved ones who had believed in him even when he doubted himself, his brothers and sisters in arms who had bled and suffered alongside him – had all played crucial roles in sculpting him into the Ranger he had become. Their presence here, at this moment of triumph, transformed what was already a significant achievement into something profound and deeply personal.
Metro gave the command for the platoon to halt and face the grandstand. With a crisp salute he report 56 Rangers of the 200 who had started were present and accounted for. The Commandant returned his salute and a familiar face stepped to the podium, Chaplain Bronson! He gave a short but powerful invocation and thanked Jesus Christ for the strength He had given these warriors. Wade was so taken back, he forgot to bow his head and Bronson said Amen, he gave a proud nod to Wade and took his seat next to the Sergeant Major. Redside adjusted the microphone and grasped the podium like he was confidently wrestling a lion. His remarks were mercifully short.
Redside stepped forward in front of the formation, holding the compact laser embosser with reverence. The metallic device hummed with technological sophistication, its weight representing the gravity of the moment. With careful movements that spoke of years of tradition, he positioned the device against the left shoulder of Wade’s armor, then Jay’s. The high-intensity beam triggered with a soft whine, cutting through the morning air with its sharp burst of yellow light. The crisp, permanent mark it left behind wasn’t just a symbol – it was a physical manifestation of their transformation, their suffering, their triumph. The Ranger tab now etched into their armor would forever remind them of this moment, of these people, and of the warriors they had become.
As the ceremony drew to a close, the formal atmosphere dissolved into a sea of congratulations, firm handshakes, and heartfelt embraces. Proud families surged forward, photos taken, and the air filled with laughter and well-wishes for the future. But for Wade, the crowd seemed to fade away, his focus narrowing to a single point – Kristen.
He moved through the throng with purpose, his newly-embossed Ranger tab catching the sunlight on his shoulder. When he reached her, his movements became deliberately gentle, conscious of the hard edges of his combat armor as he drew her into an embrace. Kristen melted into his arms despite the rigid plates between them, her fingers finding purchase on the familiar contours of his gear.
“I knew you would come back,” she whispered against his chest, her voice thick with emotion. “We had a promise. God made us a promise. I knew you would come back for me.” The words carried the weight of countless nights of prayer, of unwavering faith tested but never broken.
Wade gently eased her to arm’s length, his gloved hands resting lightly on her shoulders. He looked deep into her eyes, finding there all the strength and love that had sustained him through the darkest moments of his training. In that gaze was their shared past and their promised future, every prayer spoken, every moment of separation that had led to this reunion.
“Always,” he said simply, the word carrying the weight of an oath.
Then he pulled her close once more, feeling her warmth even through his armor, standing as an anchor in the swirling celebration around them. In that moment, the newly etched Ranger tab on his shoulder felt like more than just a symbol of military achievement – it was a promise kept, a path that had led him back to her, just as he’d sworn it would.
Secret Recon Mission
After the pomp and circumstance of graduation, Wade, Kristen, Jay, and Mayumi were ushered into a private briefing room. General Redside and Admiral Kitzler stood at the head of the table, their faces serious.
Redside spoke in measured tones. “Congratulations on your graduation,” he began. “But I’m afraid the real work is just beginning. And you won’t be going to the Ranger Regiment anytime soon. I’ve chosen you all for a top-secret reconnaissance mission of utmost importance to the Confederation.”
Wade and Jay stood stunned.
The room fell silent as the gravity of his words sank in. Redside continued, outlining a dangerous mission deep into uncharted space, where intelligence suggested a path to the origins of the Skravak “aliens” and the roots of the conspiracy.
“You’ll start with this mining operation and follow the breadcrumbs to their origins. Your unique skills and experiences make you the ideal team for this mission,” Redside explained. “We need your expertise in tactics, your advanced piloting skills, psychological and photographic memories and your technical expertise.”
Suddenly Wade realizes Redside is not just talking about him and Jay. He included Mayumi and Kristen. It was hard for him to contain the confusion and concern.
As the briefing progressed, Wade noticed Kristen’s quiet confidence. It was then that Redside dropped another bombshell.
“Dr. Kitzler,” he addressed Kristen, “your father and I have discussed your exceptional abilities, and we believe you’re ready for this. Do you accept this mission and the rank that comes with it?”
Kristen stood tall. “I do, sir.”
In a brief but meaningful ceremony, Kristen was sworn in as a Navy Ensign. Wade’s chest swelled with pride for her but was completely confused by what was happening.
The Revelation
As General Redside finished administering the oath and lowered his right hand, he turned to Wade and Jay. Something in the General’s demeanor – a barely concealed smile playing at the corners of his mouth – suggested this wasn’t standard operating procedure.
“Gentlemen,” he began, his voice pitched low enough that only they could hear, “I believe I owe you an explanation about our unexpected guest.” His eyes flickered briefly toward Kristen.
The two men remained silent, but their postures shifted subtly – Wade’s spine straightening, Jay’s head tilting slightly as if to better catch every word.
“It’s quite remarkable, really,” Redside continued, settling into the rhythm of his story. “After your ‘death,’ Kovacs, we thought we had every loose end tied up. Every base covered.” He gave a rueful shake of his head. “We didn’t count on Dr. Kitzler’s… persistence.”
A knowing smile crossed Wade’s face before he could suppress it. Kristen had always been like a dog with a bone when something didn’t add up.
“First came the questions,” Redside said, his voice taking on an almost admiring tone. “Small ones at first – inconsistencies in the official report, discrepancies in the timeline. But they grew. Evolved. Soon she was constructing elaborate psychological profiles, probability matrices…” He paused, letting out a short laugh. “She even cornered me in my own office – twice.”
The General’s expression sobered. “But it was her presentation to Admiral Kitzler that truly changed everything. Her own father, mind you. She walked into his office with a three-inch binder full of evidence suggesting you were alive, Kovacs. Evidence that, quite frankly, was disturbingly accurate.”
Wade felt his chest tighten. He could picture Kristen, fierce and determined, fighting for what she believed in. It was one of the things he’d always loved about her.
“The Admiral was impressed, naturally. But bringing a civilian into a secure operation of this sensitivity?” Redside spread his hands. “Unprecedented doesn’t begin to cover it.”
He began to pace, three steps one way, three steps back. “That’s when she surprised us all. Offered to accept a direct commission into the Navy. Said her psychiatric expertise and her…” he glanced at Wade, “personal insights could prove invaluable to the mission.”
Jay let out a low whistle. Wade stood frozen, processing the implications.
“We had a choice to make,” Redside continued. “Continue the charade and risk pushing away someone who’d already pieced together most of the puzzle, or… bring this amazing woman on the team.”
Redside looked at Wade, “And once I told her about your cockamamie plan to go to ranger school so you could stay in the fight…and get back to her, she was all the more resolved.”
The General stopped pacing and faced them squarely. “I want you both to understand something. Dr. Kitzler didn’t just stumble into this position. She fought for it. Earned it. And given what we’re up against with this Skravak situation, her insights could be the edge we need.”
Wade felt the weight of the moment settle over him like a physical thing. Kristen hadn’t just waited for him – she’d fought her way through bureaucracy, protocol, and military hierarchy to stand beside him. The mission ahead suddenly seemed both more complex and more promising.
“Sir,” he finally managed, his voice rough with emotion, “what are our next steps?”
Redside gave Wade and Jay a rueful grin. “In the past I offered you both battlefield commissions to Lieutenant. And you both turned me down. You don’t have a choice this time. You are both here by promoted to 2nd lieutenant and I don’t want to hear any quibbling. Is that clear?”
Wade and Jay exchanged a glance before respectfully accepting.
Redside had them raise their right hands and administered the oath.
“Thank you, sir,” Wade said, “We won’t let you down.”
Redside nodded, a hint of approval in his eyes. “Very well. Your mission begins in 48 hours. You’ll be briefed in greater detail on the ISC Dominion and fully kitted out. It’s a short fuse so no time for a honeymoon.”
The four looked at each other with some amusement.
Vows Among the Stars
As the briefing concluded, Admiral Kitzler stepped forward and Sarah Kitzler was ushered into the briefing room. “Before you embark on this mission, there’s one more order of business.” The Admiral smiled, a rare sight that transformed his usually stern face. “I believe we have some vows to exchange.”
In a scene that seemed almost surreal, Admiral Kitzler performed a double wedding ceremony right there in the briefing room. Wade and Kristen stood hand in hand, their eyes locked in a gaze of pure love and commitment. Beside them, Jay and Mayumi mirrored their pose, their own journey of love having blossomed in the midst of war and uncertainty.
As Wade recited his vows, he felt a profound sense of peace wash over him. This moment, this union, was a testament to his journey of faith. From the lost and broken teenager he had once been to the man standing here now, he could see God’s hand guiding him every step of the way.
“I, Wade, take you, Kristen, to be my lawfully wedded wife. Before God and these witnesses, I vow to love you, protect you, and stand by your side through whatever challenges we may face. In war and in peace, in danger and in safety, my heart is yours, now and always.”
Kristen’s voice was steady as she repeated her own vows, her eyes shining with unshed tears of joy. As Admiral Kitzler pronounced them husband and wife, Wade felt as if his heart might burst with happiness.
The vows recited by Jay and Mayumi were equally moving, their love a beacon of hope in the uncertain future that lay ahead.
New Lives, New Mission
As the newlyweds prepared to board the Stellar-Scout, the gravity of their mission settled over them. They were embarking on a journey into the unknown, facing dangers that they could scarcely imagine. Yet, as Wade looked at Kristen, at Jay and Mayumi, at the friends and family gathered to see them off, he felt a surge of hope.
“Ready for our next adventure, Mrs. Kovacs?” he asked, squeezing Kristen’s hand.
She smiled up at him, her eyes full of love and determination. “Always, Mr. Kovacs.”
With a final wave to their loved ones, the two couples boarded the Stellar-Scout. As the ship’s engines hummed to life, Jay took his place at the controls, Wade beside him. They exchanged a look of understanding – whatever lay ahead, they would face it together.
The Stellar-Scout lifted off, carrying with it not just four elite warriors, but four hearts full of love, faith, and hope for the future. As Rinart 3 faded into the distance, Wade offered a silent prayer of thanks and protection. Their journey was far from over – in fact, it was just beginning.
ToBeLikeJesus 