Insight for Today
A Daily Devotional by Pastor Chuck Swindoll

While they were ministering to the Lord—fasting, singing, teaching, witnessing, and praying—the Holy Spirit said, "Okay, hitch up the wagons, fellas . . . westward, ho! I need Barnabas and Paul for the work to which I have called them."

In every ministry there are at least three essentials that produce an atmosphere of joyous cooperation. They are objectives, people, and places. First, whatever God plans, He pursues. That has to do with the ministry essential of objectives.

Do you recall what David did after he killed Goliath? God had already appointed the young shepherd as the next king of Israel. Most young conquerors would have located the nearest Macy's and tried on crowns. Not David.

Release the idea that contentment requires comfort. Contentment is possible no matter how dire your circumstances. While under house arrest, Paul wrote, "I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am."

Remember that suffering is not new. In what is probably the oldest book in the Bible, the book of Job, we read, "For man is born for trouble, as sparks fly upward" (Job 5:7). Now there's a statement we need to teach our children.

I need to underscore a foundational fact: God's goal is not to make sure you're happy. No matter how hard it is for you to believe this, it's time to do so. Life is not about your being comfortable and happy and successful and pain free.

Just imagine . . . those who are physically disabled today will one day dance in beautiful coordination and leap in ecstatic joy. Those who spend their lives absorbed in total darkness will see every color in the spectrum of light.

What gives a widow courage as she stands beside a fresh grave? What is the ultimate hope of the disabled, the amputee, the abused, the burn victim?

This is a good time to correct faulty thinking. It is not always God's will that you be healed. It is not always the Father's plan to relieve the pressure. Our happiness is not God's chief aim.

Sailors on the high seas understand the importance of securing themselves to something sturdy in a fierce gale. You learn to cling to what's secure in a storm. Paul learned to cling to what he knew to be true . . .

Any study of the life of the apostle Paul requires a serious look at the subject of pain. Suffering is not a pleasant subject to explore.

I want to dispense a fresh supply of hope. To help accomplish that, let me suggest four principles. They may mean more to you later than now—in a time when God leads you to wait in the shadows.

If you go back fourteen years from the time Paul wrote the second letter to the believers at Corinth, that places him at the time he was waiting in Tarsus. Quite possibly, during one of his numerous floggings he received . . . , he lapsed into a semi-conscious state.

Some of you who read these words today could use a little extra hope, especially if you find yourself in a waiting mode. You were once engaged in the action, doing top-priority work on the front lines. No longer.

Rather than considering yourself (even secretly) indispensable, remind yourself often, It's the Lord's work to be done the Lord's way. I first heard that principle from Francis Schaeffer while attending one of his lectures.

Wasn't it a waste of great talent for God to put Paul on hold? Not at all. Wasn't Tarsus a strange assignment? Not if He wanted him to be prepared to write the letter to the Romans.

The Message, Eugene Peterson's paraphrase, wraps up this part of the narrative nicely: "Things calmed down after that and the church had smooth sailing for a while. All over the country—Judea, Samaria, Galilee—the church grew.

The disciples feared Saul. They couldn't bring themselves to believe he was a disciple. "But Barnabas . . . " Isn't that a great opening? Out of nowhere comes Barnabas to encourage Saul and be his personal advocate.

Act two of the drama opens with, "When he came to Jerusalem . . . " (v. 26). Jerusalem! Saul owned Jerusalem. He went to graduate school in that great town. I mean, the man knew that old city like the back of his hand.

Part of the solution is to pursue the benefits of solitude and silence found in times of obscurity. For the first time in seven years, I took six weeks off one summer. No preaching, no writing, no counseling, no speaking engagements . . . no nothing.