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111 illustrations
The promise "My God shall supply all your need" (Philippians 4:19) stretches across Old Testament pledges: "They that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing" and "No good thing will He withhold from them that walk uprightly." Yet...
Yet Maclaren observes that this solitude, rather than paralyzing the Apostle, clarified his method.
To pray is to *ask* (*aiteo*) of God; the more childlike the asking, the better.
The prohibition is not against reasonable foresight, but against anxious foreboding, that wretched state in which a man is 'rent asunder' by care.
Christ's people are described as His "flock," a term denoting both privilege and protection.
In Gethsemane He prayed for Himself with agitation and struggle: 'If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me.' Yet here in the High-priestly prayer, His voice carries 'calm serenity and confident assurance.' The difference is this: in Gethsemane,...
He had rough-hewn his plan with apostolic certainty.
Luther hesitated to expound such texts before congregations, fearing appearance of avarice, yet acknowledged the duty remains: believers must understand what honor and support they owe their teachers.
They had witnessed Christ feed five thousand with five barley loaves and two small fishes, yet their enthusiasm remained carnal—impressed by the multiplication, unmoved by His wisdom or deeds.
Weakness becomes the vessel for His empowerment, as vine-sap fills the hollow branch and water flows into the hollowed basin.
Life and health form the foundation of all other enjoyments.
First, God's kindness (*chesed*) embodies tenderness toward the God-fearing.
Some possess remarkable skill in dwelling exclusively upon dark things: black aspects, wintry phases, deprivations, bereavements, losses.
This text reveals a profound truth: bodily satisfaction depends entirely upon the soul's condition.
Exell's Victorian analysis of Ezekiel 14:26 unfolds the promise "And ye shall eat in plenty" across eight spiritual dimensions: satiation of body, contentment with portion, the capacity to eat, and supremely, the enjoyment of Elohim as our God in Christ.
Cyrus the Great, born a prince of a small principality at the head of the Gulf of Oman, rose to conquer the Medes, Persians, Asia Minor including Lydia, and finally Babylon itself.
When you sit before your meal, you behold a creature that once swam freely in waters or soared through heavens—now placed there by your authority.
Yet the narrative turns without hesitation from that lonely sepulcher to the bustling camp and a new leader.
When comfort abandons us and earthly props crumble, the soul rises on wings of intercession toward Yahweh.
When friends multiply, when abundance flows, when earthly helpers stand ready—that very moment we face our gravest spiritual peril.
The believer's refuge under God's *hesed* (covenant love) mirrors the sanctuary's protective design.
First, he is blessed domestically—in wife and children—a sight so rare and beautiful that the Psalmist calls all to witness it.
First, even bodily wants must be subordinated to religious purposes—we do not live by bread alone, but by every word proceeding from Adonai.
The prophet's promise reaches its climax precisely where the people need it most: not in the initial rush of joy and anticipation, when they rose "on the wings of an eagle," but in the exhausting, monotonous tramp of the actual...