Insight for Today
A Daily Devotional by Pastor Chuck Swindoll

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.

I'm convinced it was there, in that barren place of obscurity, that Paul developed his theology. He met God, intimately and deeply. Silently and alone, he plumbed the unfathomable mysteries of sovereignty, election, depravity, the deity of Christ.

The transformation is stunning. Saul, no doubt with blood stains still on his garment from Christians he had tortured, now stood with arms outstretched announcing, "I'm here to testify to you that Jesus is the Messiah, God's Son."

Stepping out in faith always brings clarification of God's plan. When Ananias went to see Saul, he received additional information. As Saul submitted himself to the ministry of Ananias, he found out more about God's plan for his life.

Surprises are always part of God's leading. In Saul's case, the surprise came in the form of a light from heaven, marking a life-changing transformation. For Ananias, it was a seemingly unreasonable and illogical command.

Regardless of what you have done, no one is beyond hope. That's the great hope of the Christian message. No amount or depth of sin in your past can trump the grace of God. If you question that, remember Saul, the brash Pharisee of Tarsus.

If you haven't yet done so, stand for a few moments in Ananias's sandals. Understand how difficult it would have been to see how God's plan could possibly work.

God goaded and prodded the stubborn pride of Saul—that Pharisaic ox. Day after day he kicked against those goads, until finally he got the message. There would be no more running. No more hiding. The fight was over.