The Choice: Even at 5 a.m.

To those who happen to be awake at this hour.   


Father, may the Fruit of the Spirit be evident in our lives no matter the circumstance. Amen.

(From When God Whisper's Your Name, by Max Lucado).

IT'S QUIET. It's early. My coffee is hot. The sky is still black. The world is still asleep. The day is coming.

In a few moments the day will arrive. It will roar down the track with the rising of the sun. The stillness of the dawn will be exchanged for the noise of the day. The calm of solitude will be replaced by the pounding pace of the human race. The refuge of the early morning will be invaded by decisions to be made and deadlines to be met.

For the next twelve hours I will be exposed to the day's demands. It is now that I must make a choice. Because of Calvary, I'm free to choose. And so I choose. 

I choose love . . .
No occasion justifies hatred; no injustice warrants bitterness. I choose love. Today I will love God and what God loves. 

I choose joy . . .
I will invite my God to be the God of circumstance. I will refuse the temptation to be cynical . . . the tool of the lazy thinker. I will refuse to see people as anything less than human beings, created by God. I will refuse to see any problem as anything less than an opportunity to see God. 

I choose peace . . .
I will live forgiven. I will forgive so that I may live. 

I choose patience . . .
I will overlook the inconveniences of the world. Instead of cursing the one who takes my place, I'll invite him to do so. Rather than complain that the wait is too long, I will thank God for a moment to pray. Instead of clinching my fist at new assignments, I will face them with joy and courage. 

I choose kindness . . .
I will be kind to the poor, for they are alone. Kind to the rich, for they are afraid. And kind to the unkind, for such is how God has treated me. 

I choose goodness . . .
I will go without a dollar before I take a dishonest one. I will be overlooked before I will boast. I will confess before I will accuse. I choose goodness. 

I choose faithfulness . . .
Today I will keep my promises. My debtors will not regret their trust. My associates will not question my word. My wife will not question my love. And my children will never fear that their father will not come home. 

I choose gentleness . . .
Nothing is won by force. I choose to be gentle. If I raise my voice may it be only in praise. If I clench my fist, may it be only in prayer. If I make a demand, may it be only of myself. 

I choose self-control . . .
I am a spiritual being. After this body is dead, my spirit will soar. I refuse to let what will rot, rule the eternal. I choose self-control. I will be drunk only by joy. I will be impassioned only by my faith. I will be influenced only by God. I will be taught only by Christ. I choose self-control.


Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. To these I commit my day. If I succeed, I will give thanks. If I fail, I will seek his grace. And then, when this day is done, I will place my head on my pillow and rest.

Rock Bottom: It's a good place to be.

We’re all bound to hit rock bottom at some point in our lives. (more like at many points in our lives).  

Such is life as imperfect humans in an imperfect world.

Sure, we’d all love being on the mountaintop forever if we had a choice. Who doesn’t like it when the piggy bank is overweight? …when you have the perfect job. The perfect relationships. Health. Security in storing up treasures for ourselves and reaping the benefits of everything “we” have worked hard for.

It’s easy to forget God when we’re on top of the mountain and have fallen in love with the accumulating objects and junk cluttering our lives. 

‘We don’t need anything, so we don’t really need God. We can do it all on our own.’ We would never DARE admit such an atrocious statement, but guess what? Actions speak louder than words.

Just don’t get too comfortable. When we're on the mountaintop, there's only one place to go from there: down.

And when you hit rock bottom, you have two choices: you can either lie there in defeat and self-pity or you can look up to God, trusting that He is in control. (I am still learning this...)

Thank God for the gift of hitting rock bottom. Thank God that in the plunge down into the deep valley, His strong, faithful hands are there to catch us. To comfort us. To remind us that when we have nothing left, He is all we need.

When we have exhausted all our options, plan A through Z, and we have more questions than we have answers, those, my friends, are the perfect conditions for God to get to work. 

When we get over ourselves and quit relying on our own abilities (which will eventually fail), when we finally step aside and humble ourselves, we can let His perfect will be done.

In A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23, written by a scientist/shepherd, Phillip Keller gives insight on verse 4:

Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

“… Here is grandeur, a quietness, and assurance that sets the soul at rest, ‘I will not fear, for thou art with me…’ – with me in every situation, in every dark trial, in every dismal disappointment, in every distressing dilemma. In the Christian life we often speak of wanting ‘to move onto higher ground with God.’ (This is in reference of moving the flock of sheep to summer pastures further up the mountain). How we long to live above the lowlands of life. We want to get beyond the common crowd, to enter a more intimate walk with God. We speak of mountaintop experiences and we envy those who have ascended to the heights and entered into this more sublime sort of life. 

 Often we get an erroneous idea about how this takes place. It is as though we imagined we could be “air lifted” onto higher ground. On the tough trail of the Christian life this is not so. As with ordinary sheep management, so with God’s people one only gains higher ground by climbing up through the valleys. 

Every mountain has its valleys. Its sides are scarred by deep ravines and gulches and draws. And the best route to the top is always along these valleys. Any sheep man familiar with the high country knows this. He leads his flock gently, but persistently up the paths that wind through the dark valleys. It should be noticed that the verse states, ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.’ It does not say I die there, or stop there – but rather ‘I walk through.’

… Most of us do not want valleys in our lives. We shrink from them with a sense of fear and foreboding. Yet in spite of our worst God can bring great benefit and lasting benediction to others through those valleys. Let us not always try to avoid the dark things, the distressing days. They may well prove to be the way of greatest refreshment to ourselves and those around us (pg. 100-101).

Father, thank You for the trials you allow in our lives. If we never knew the pains of the dark valley, we would never know the joy and victory that comes with relying on You to take us up the steep road to the high hills. Help us not give up so quickly, but rather, trust in You and in Your perfect ways. Give us the strength to take our eyes off of ourselves, off the things of this world, and fix them instead on You. In Jesus' name. Amen.