Ten Things God Will Not Ask

After Your Last Day On Earth:

  1. God won’t ask what kind of car you drove. He’ll ask how many people you drove who didn’t have transportation.
  2. God won’t ask the square footage of your house. He’ll ask how many people you welcomed into your home.
  3. God won’t ask about the clothes you had in your closet. He’ll ask how many you helped to clothe.
  4. God won’t ask what your highest salary was. He’ll ask if you compromised your character to obtain it and who you helped with it.
  5. God won’t ask what your job title was. He’ll ask if you performed your job to the best of your ability.
  6. God won’t ask how many friends you had. He’ll ask how many people to whom you were a friend.
  7. God won’t ask in what neighborhood you lived. He’ll ask how you treated your neighbors.
  8. God won’t ask about the color of your skin. He’ll ask about the content of your character and your prejudices.
  9. God won’t ask how many people talked to you about salvation. He’ll ask how people you talked to about salvation.
  10. God won’t ask why it took you so long to seek salvation. He’ll lovingly take you to your mansion in heaven, and not to the gates of Hell.

God won’t ask what you will do after reading this.  He already knows you.  Question is, do you know God?


Prayers Make a Difference

We know that God does not listen to sinners.  He listens to the godly man who does his will. John  9: 31

The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective. James  5: 16

This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.  And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him. 1 John  5: 14 – 15

Most of our prayer lives could use a tune-up.

Some prayer lives lack consistency.  They’re either a desert or an oasis.  Long, arid, dry spells interrupted by brief plunges into the waters of communion. . . .

Others of us need sincerity.  Our prayers are a bit hollow, memorized, and rigid.  More liturgy than life.  And though they are daily, they are dull.

Still others lack, well, honesty.  We honestly wonder if prayer makes a difference.  Why on earth would God in heaven want to talk to me?  If God knows all, who am I to tell him anything?  If God controls all, who am I to do anything? . . . .

Our prayers may be awkward.  Our attempts may be feeble.  But since the power of prayer is in the one who hears it and not the one who says it, our prayers do make a difference

( From ‘He Still Moves Stones’ by Max Lucado )


Set Apart

You adulterous people, don’t you know that friendship with the world is hatred toward God?  Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God.  Or do you think Scripture says without reason that the spirit he caused to live in us envies intensely? “But he gives us more grace.” James  4: 4 – 6

John the Baptist would never get hired today.  No church would touch him.  He was a public relations disaster.  He “wore clothes made from camel’s hair, had a leather belt around his waist, and ate locusts and wild honey” (Mark 1:6).  Who would want to look at a guy like that every Sunday?

His message was as rough as his dress: a no-nonsense, bare-fisted challenge to repent and be baptized because God was on his way.

John the Baptist set himself apart for one task, to be a voice of Christ.  Everything about John centered on his purpose.  His dress.  His diet.  His actions.  His demands.

You don’t have to be like the world to have an impact on the world.  You don’t have to be like the crowd to change the crowd.  You don’t have to lower yourself down to their level to lift them up to your level.  Holiness doesn’t seek to be odd.  Holiness seeks to be like God.

In a 1987 commencement address at Duke University, Ted Koppel, the news anchor for ABC’s Nightline said, “We have reconstructed the Tower of Babel and it is a television antenna, a thousand voices producing a daily parody of democracy in which everyone’s opinion is afforded equal weight regardless of substance or merit.  Indeed, it can even be argued that opinions of real weight tend to sink with barely a trace in television’s ocean of banalities.”


Real Change

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.
James 1: 17

Real change is an inside job. You might alter things a day or two with money and systems, but the heart of the matter is, and always will be, the matter of the heart.

Allow me to get specific. Our problem is sin. Not finances. Not budgets. Not overcrowded prisons or drug dealers. Our problem is sin. We are separated from our Father. We are cut off from the source of life. A new president or policy won’t fix that. It can only be solved by God.

That’s why the Bible uses drastic terms like conversion, repentance, and lost and found. Society may renovate, but only God re-creates.

Here is a practical exercise to put this truth into practice. The next time alarms go off in your world, ask yourself three questions.

  1. Is there any unconfessed sin in my life? . . .
  2. Are there any unresolved conflicts in my world? . . .
  3. Are there any unsurrendered worries in my heart? . . .

Alarms serve a purpose. They signal a problem. Sometimes the problem is out there. More often it’s in here. So before you peek outside, take a good look inside.

( From When God Whispers Your Name by Max Lucado )


Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
1 Cor. 13: 4 – 7

As the husband looks in the jewelry case, he rationalizes, “Sure she would want the watch, but it’s too expensive. She’s a practical woman, she’ll understand. I’ll just get the bracelet today. I’ll buy the watch . . . someday.”
Someday. The enemy of risky love is a snake whose tongue has mastered the talk of deception. “Someday,” he hisses.
“Someday, I can take her on the cruise.”
“Someday, I will have time to call and chat.”
“Someday, the children will understand why I was so busy.”

But you know the truth, don’t you? You know even before I write it. You could say it better than I. Somedays never come. And the price of practicality is sometimes higher than extravagance. But the rewards of risky love are always greater than its cost. Go to the effort. Invest the time. Write the letter. Make the apology. Take the trip. Purchase the gift. Do it. The seized opportunity renders joy. The neglected brings regret.

( From And the Angels Were Silent by Max Lucado )