Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. [Romans 12:10-11 (NIV)]
It is not the extent of your knowledge, though that is useful; it is not the extent of your talent, though that is not to be despised; it is your zeal that shall do great exploits. This zeal is the fruit of the Holy Spirit: it draws its vital force from the continued operations of the Holy Ghost in the soul. [Charles Spurgeon]
We just received one of those beautiful edible arrangements of fruit. The fruit was displayed as if we had an enormous flower arrangement. It seemed a pity to pull off the enormous ripe strawberries or take the melon balls from the centers of the pineapple slices but it was necessary if we were ever going to truly appreciate it. Fruit is meant to be eaten and that much fruit was meant to be shared before it spoiled. As I packed it up (all the while tasting as I worked), I couldn’t help but think of another gift of fruit—the fruit of the Spirit. Like juicy strawberries and sweet melon, it’s meant to be shared. Moreover, the Holy Spirit’s fruit doesn’t need to be refrigerated, can’t spoil, and is even more beautiful than real fruit, no matter how artfully arranged.
Paul gave us a list of the fruits of the Spirit but I’m not so sure it is all-inclusive. I recently read a devotion by Charles Spurgeon that suggests zeal is also a fruit of the Spirit. Surely, all those other traits—love, joy, peace, patience, kindheartedness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control—wouldn’t come to much without some zeal and enthusiasm for doing God’s work! Maybe zeal is a bit like the chocolate that covered some of those berry, apple and pineapple pieces—it enhances the Fruit of the Spirit!
As Christians, our worship, prayers, praise, faith, and service shouldn’t be lackluster and the Fruit of the Spirit shouldn’t be like a can of bland fruit cocktail. A pinch of zeal, however, can turn that flavorless canned fruit into a scrumptious and beautiful arrangement of fresh fruit.
Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them. [Matthew 7:20 (NIV)]
I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. … This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples. [John 15:5,8 (NIV)]
Copyright ©2016 jsjdevotions. All rights reserved.
As the weather up north cools, our snowbird neighbors have begun returning to their southwest Florida homes. One neighbor recently arrived from Portland, Oregon, a city that ranks third in a list of cities with the most depressing winters. Their weather forecast alternates between cloudy with rain showers to partly cloudy with a 60% chance of rain and that’s not likely to improve! Their early November temperatures will range from highs in the mid-60s to lows in the mid-40s with a UV index that never gets above a 2. On the other hand, our ten-day forecast fluctuates between sunny and mostly sunny with no more than a 10% chance of rain. Temperatures will rise to the mid-80s during the day and fall to the mid-60s at night; the UV index is 6 or 7. In short, Portland is damp, gray and dreary and we’re dry, warm and sunny (and should wear sunblock). On my neighbor’s first day back in our tropical paradise, while relaxing on her lanai with a book, she happened to fall asleep. Upon waking, hearing the mockingbird’s happy song and feeling the warm gentle breeze on her face, she had a moment of confusion and forgot where she was. Feeling incredibly peaceful, relaxed and refreshed, for a moment she actually thought she’d died and gone to heaven!
We women tend to consider the mirror a critic, and a ruthless one at that. I don’t know about men but I suspect you fellows may not be all that different. When we look in a mirror, the message we perceive is often disparaging and fault-finding: tired looking, “bed head,” too fat, too old, or too saggy. Then the mirror starts in our apparel telling us things are too tight, too loose, out of style, too young, too old, too wrinkled, or just plain ugly! Most of us don’t hear our mirrors affirming that we are marvelously made.
I admit to having left some church services feeling like I just “mailed it in” and that’s not the way to worship our wonderful glorious God. It’s been said that familiarity breeds contempt. In the case of familiar gospels, epistles, songs and liturgy, while familiarity may not breed contempt it may breed boredom. We’ve listened to the Benediction, Consecration or Absolution so often that we don’t even hear them and we’ve said the Lord’s Prayer, recited the Apostle’s Creed, or sung certain hymns so many times that the words exit our mouths without needing to pass through our hearts or minds.
Last week, I sat down to write in my gratitude journal and couldn’t believe my eyes. I hadn’t written in it for seven days. “I write in it every day!” I protested. Surely there was a mistake—pages must be missing. It wasn’t and they weren’t—the mistake was mine and it wasn’t pages that were missing; it was gratitude! It had been a week jam-packed with family, errands, chores, and writing—a week of “same old, same old,” just at a faster pace than usual. That, however, was no excuse for a heart oblivious to the blessings of seven ordinary days. Surely, within each one of those unexceptional but busy days there had been something for which I could thank God. Although I always offer thanks in my daily prayers, that journal has been a way of making me mindful of God’s specific blessings of each day—a way of making me see His hand in a life of the “same old, same old.”
I was right. In fact, I was so right I deserved a gold star and he was so wrong that he should have gotten a big red “F” but he never admitted it. Although I congratulated myself for not saying, “I told you so!” I still wanted him to eat a little humble pie. Then the Holy Spirit did His job and rightly convicted me of being a bit self-righteous and a whole lot mean-spirited. I was reminded of Luther, a man from our church who I called “a disciple of Christ” in a previous devotion. He always greeted people with a smile and the phrase, “Jesus loves you and I do, too.” As I heard Luther’s words in my mind, I stopped in mid-gripe and remembered that Jesus loves my man and I do, too.
Devotions of the Heart 