Category: devotional

A Beamiliar hymn begin, “For the beauty of the earth,….”  Those words create a mental slide show of snow-capped mountains, flower filled meadows, pastel sunsets, rainy mornings and snowy evenings.  The beauty of the earth is all of the above, but it is also the mathematical precision of an atom, the double helix of DNA, the infinity of numbers, the curve of a normal distribution and the tenacity of life. 

Our heliocentric solar system with its balance of gravity and distance that enables us to safely fall in yearly cycles dazzles the mind.  Einstein’s theory of relativity, Feynman’s quantum physics and Sagan’s cosmos are layers of beauty unfolding a depth of artistry far beyond the hand of Michelangelo.

In Ecclesiastes 3:11 Solomon wrote, “He (God) has made everything beautiful in its time.  He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”  All this beauty that surrounds us is the handiwork of the creative artistry of our heavenly Father.  And He has created us to see, taste, feel, hear, and fathom this beauty.

Written by Roger Bothwell on July 31, 2000

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According to the dictionary the word “compassion” means having a deep understanding of another’s suffering coupled with a desire to alleviate the suffering.  On seven different occasions Matthew and Mark describe Jesus as having compassion.

In Matthew 9:35-36 we read, “Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness.  When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.”

In other New Testament passages Jesus showed compassion to particular persons.  But in Matthew 9 His compassion was expressed in general terms.  It is fairly easy to have compassion for a specific person.  When we see someone face to face and are confronted with his or her need it is normal to want to help.  But it is not normal to have compassion for the faceless crowd.  If you were told there were ten thousand hungry children in Uganda you would most likely reply, “That’s too bad” yet do nothing.  But if you were introduced to a real, starving child you would reach deep into your pocket to help.

Written by Roger Bothwell on March 7, 2001

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The fallen hawk lay on the forest floor.  He had not been dead long.  He was still beautiful and noble.  Soon he would return to the dust of the forest to become part of a flower, tree or vine.  How high had he flown?  What vistas had he seen? What conquests over mice and rabbits nourished him?  Why was his piercing scream now silent?  Was it old age?  Had he lived his three score and ten?  Or had a hunter used him for target practice?

There in death his remains would provide the essentials of life for a host of other creatures.  His death would provide life.  Thankfully God will take the memory of our personhood and on resurrection morning put it in a brand new immortal frame and body.

Jesus, who not only proclaimed Himself to be the resurrection and the life but also proved it, promises us so much more than decades of limited walk.  Centuries and millenniums await us.  We too shall soar like hawks and eagles with nothing to bring us down.  Surely one of the most marvelous verses of all scripture is Isaiah 40:31, “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”

Written by Roger Bothwell on September 14, 2000

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On occasion I hear people talking about how very sinful and rotten the world is becoming.  Since I took a ton of history classes for my undergrad degree I’m afraid I have to disagree.  The world has always been a rotten place.   People didn’t live in walled cities just because they liked the architecture.  It is true the 20th century was the bloodiest on record but that is because the population of the world had grown so there were more people to kill.   The rate of killing was the same as before.

I point this out not to defend the state of the world.  It’s bad.  And I don’t point this out because I want to paint a dismal picture.   I’m talking about this because I want to herald the glory of Romans 5 where Paul says, “. . . where sin abounded, grace did much more abound: that as sin hath reigned unto death, even so might grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord.”   It’s a wonderful promise about the wonder of wonder-filled grace.  In the paraphrase of the New Testament, The Message, grace in this passage is called “aggressive forgiveness.”

I love the imagery that floods my brain.  I see Jesus, via the Holy Spirit, wooing us, chasing us, and almost begging us to accept His grace.  Like a lover hunting down his passion Jesus is in hot pursuit of sinners.   According to Paul, the more we sin, the more opportunity for Jesus to extend grace.  In chapter 6 Paul than asks the hypothetical question, “Should we then sin more so God can have more joy in forgiving us.”   Paul points out how nonsensical that is because when forgiven we live in a new state of delight and we would never want to go back.

Written by Roger Bothwell on January 25, 2017

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I stood at my window and nostalgically watche my maple leaves fall one by one to the earth.  Is it our egocentrism that interprets everything in relationship to ourselves?  Is it that personal pain of realizing as each leaf gently sways to settle to the earth we too are past our prime?  The freshness of May, the fullness of August, the richness of September is a memory now.  It is time to bring in the hose and the lawn furniture.  It is time to change the screen door to glass.  It is time to plan for Thanksgiving dinner and hope everyone can come one more time to fill the house with the sounds of children’s laughter.

The morning sun filters through the yellow birch leaves and red maples casting a crimson glow on a man walking his dog down the street.  He is bundled and scarfed to fight off the bite of the crisp morning air.  Does he know he is being watched?  I doubt he knows he is part of a Norman Rockwell painting.  He will most likely return home to get out the rake and harvest his leaves.  If this were 1940 he would put a match to them and fill the neighborhood with the perfume of fall.  It is not 1940 and we shall have to be content with the scratching sound of his rake sliding across his walkway.

It is the week for children to dress up as ballerina dancers, pirates, big league ball players  and come to my door for candy.  I shall open the door and see a host of little people who would not understand what I have just said to you.  But they shall.  They shall.  For that is the progression of the seasons.

Written by Roger Bothwell on October 25, 2003

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I stood at my window and nostalgically watched my maple leaves fall one by one to the earth.  Is it our egocentrism that interprets everything in relationship to ourselves?  Is it that personal pain of realizing as each leaf gently sways to settle to the earth we too are past our prime?  The freshness of May, the fullness of August, the richness of September is a memory now.  It is time to bring in the hose and the lawn furniture.  It is time to change the screen door to glass.  It is time to plan for Thanksgiving dinner and hope everyone can come one more time to fill the house with the sounds of children’s laughter.

The morning sun filters through the yellow birch leaves and red maples casting a crimson glow on a man walking his dog down the street.  He is bundled and scarfed to fight off the bite of the crisp morning air.  Does he know he is being watched?  I doubt he knows he is part of a Norman Rockwell painting.  He will most likely return home to get out the rake and harvest his leaves.  If this were 1940 he would put a match to them and fill the neighborhood with the perfume of fall.  It is not 1940 and we shall have to be content with the scratching sound of his rake sliding across his walkway.

It is the week for children to dress up as ballerina dancers, pirates, big league ball players and  come to my door for candy.  I shall open the door and see a host of little people who would not understand what I have just said to you.  But they shall.  They shall.  For that is the progression of the seasons.

Written by Roger Bothwell on October 25, 2003

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It was wonderful.  It was a scene out of the famous children’s book “Madeleine” that begins with “twelve little girls in two straight lines.”   On my to school I passed nine children waiting for the school bus.  There was no bus in sight.  Yet all the children were in a straight line one right behind the other. I am guessing one of the children was a take charge “control freak.”   He or she had everyone in place.  I am wondering what kind of retribution would have fallen on anyone who got out of line.

Sometimes religious groups manage to do such with their members.  If one is to belong one has to get in line.  Conformity is the criteria for acceptance.  One must eat like, talk like, dress like and most important of all believe like the leadership.  Any deviation is a pronounced one-way ticket to a very warm place.  Yet I cannot but notice how much God loves diversity.  People come in a tremendous variety of colors, shapes and sizes.  Languages, customs and cultures make the world a fascinating place.

Yet, it is our brains that really make us different from each other.  The power to think, the power to create and to choose for ourselves is God’s greatest gift to our being.  When He said, “Let us make man in our image” He was not talking about hair color or texture.  He was talking about the power to think.  The power to be unique.  The power to be so special there would never ever be a duplicate anywhere in the vastness of His universe.

Written by Roger Bothwell on October 16, 2003

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Buying magazine subscriptions for relative’s Christmas presents is wonderful.  Instead of giving one thing you give twelve things and you don’t have to go shopping or do wrapping.  Another major plus is you can help your child score really big in their school magazine sales drive.  Just this weekend our five-year old granddaughter called and asked if we would buy a subscription.  When we told her we needed six subscriptions she was very excited.  We asked when she needed to turn them and she told us right away.  That did not leave time for us to select the magazines. “That’s alright,” she said, “I’ll pick them out for you!”  Immediately my mind envisioned us sending my older sisters  subscriptions to Jack and Jill or Humpty Dumpty Magazines.

So often in our immaturity we think we are capable of directing God’s work and advancing His kingdom.  We think our plans are just what are needed to evangelize the world and take the Gospel to the masses.  Actually I believe the problem goes even deeper into the plans we make for our personal lives.  We think we know exactly what steps to take to please God and fulfill His dream for our lives. We are like five-year-olds picking out magazines.

There is a verse in Psalm 23 we learned as children and need to regularly repeat.  It goes like this, “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.”  Note just who it is who is doing the directing.  It is the only way that really works.

Written by Roger Bothwell on October 5, 2003

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In many places in the United States the first day in the fall does not mean much but In New England it is a day to celebrate.  Maple trees are sending out invitations to watch for the glory that is about to burst.

Often we hear the four seasons of the year compared to the seasons of our lives.  Springtime is the incredible bursting of childhood into young adulthood with all the unfolding mysteries of who will be.  Summertime is time for bearing fruit.  We have children.  We learn how to contribute to our communities building our nation by building good solid families.  Fall is grandparent time.  It is time for the foliage to turn grey yet have all the vibrancy and vigor of summertime.  It is time to harvest the years of labor and spread the bounty around to others.  And then winter arrives.  It is time to slow down and watch the storms blow about us knowing all is well for we have wisely built well and prepared for reflection about a life well lived.

But wait there is an incredible promise in Scripture regarding the wintertime of life.  It is found in Psalm 92.  It says, “The righteous . . . will grow like a cedar of Lebanon; planted in the house of the LORD, they will flourish in the courts of our God. They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green.”

Each time of life can be rich and abundant.  Rejoice in the goodness of where you are, bloom and bear much fruit.   See John 15.

Written by Roger Bothwell on September 23, 2003

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Usually we groan inside when we get stuck behind a school bus.  Often it seems like it stops at every driveway. But the past few mornings have been kind of fun.  School is just beginning and there are a lot of very excited little people waiting for the big yellow bus.  There are lots of parents with cameras recording these first few days.  For decades to come children turned adults will see themselves beaming (hopefully) as they make that first big step up into the bus.

First times are so special.  We try to record the first steps, first words, first birthdays  and first time riding a two-wheeler.  Most of us can remember the first time we kissed that someone special.  There is also something sad about first times.  Each one represents a passage to a new chapter in life and we close a section of our life that can only be visited in our memories.  Life is an  interesting series of bitter sweet events.

The sacrifice of Jesus was a bitter sweet event.  Heaven had to be in horrendous anguish as they watched the brutal, violent behavior of those who nailed Jesus to the cross.  Yet there had to be feelings of pride in the courage of Jesus who was voluntarily submitted to this atrocity.  It was a passage.  No longer would the universe ever be the same.  Sinners, for whom He died, murdered the Creator and the door of eternity was opened for anyone who would receive the gift.

“For the joy that was set before him, Jesus, endured the cross, despising the shame, . .”  Hebrews 12:2

Written by Roger Bothwell on August 27, 2003

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