“After Aaron and his sons have finished covering the holy furnishings and all the holy articles, and when the camp is ready to move, only then are the Kohathites to come and do the carrying. But they must not touch the holy things or they will die. The Kohathites are to carry those things that are in the tent of meeting.” (Numbers‬ ‭4:15‬ ‭NIV‬‬)

God assigns some heavy, holy loads to some specific people. This small faction of the Levites shouldered the sole responsibility of shuttling the pieces of the sanctuary and the sacred utensils from one campsite to another. The tricky part? They could not touch it, even lay eyes on it. Aaron and his sons did the packing. The Kohathites did the heavy lifting.

Sometimes the Lord calls us to cumbersome, complicated tasks. Sometimes these tasks don’t make much sense and maybe even seem cruel. That’s when we must remember that if God has called us to move it, it must be for His Kingdom. We can’t see the whole picture of humanity, we don’t know how our tiny, leaden responsibility might play out in the Kingdom.

The Kohathites helped carry the physical presence of God into the Promised Land. They participated in the establishing of God’s home here on earth. Their pack-mule obedience made way for the temple. Their muscles participated in the unfolding of history. And they were oh-so-close to the things of God.

The Kohathites (and maybe us also) were hard-pressed into Kingdom service, but what better Kingdom could we serve?

What wears like a burden today is surely a Kingdom blessing tomorrow. So we straighten our backs and commit to carrying our loads with grace and dignity, certain of the One who assigned it.

“Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else, for each one should carry their own load.” (Galatians‬ ‭6:4-5‬ ‭NIV‬‬)

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’” (Mark‬ ‭12:30‬ ‭NIV‬‬)

Lord, we trust Your knowledge and Your sovereignty. We realize that You alone are the assigner of burdens. You will not allow us more than we can bear with Your help. Remind that we are participating in something Kingdom, and give us the grace and strength for another day in Your service. Amen.

““Go into that village over there,” he told them. “As soon as you enter it, you will see a young donkey tied there that no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here.” (Mark‬ ‭11:2‬ ‭NLT‬‬)

Donkeys have been characterized as stubborn creatures, but they actually aren’t. They are fearful. An unbroken donkey is cautious, wary and uneducated. They won’t move forward until trust is established. Fear causes them to freeze, not obstinance. Unbroken donkeys need to be is enticed, not forced.

An unbroken donkey isn’t much of an asset until someone invests the time and patience required for breaking. Jesus, of course, accomplishes this in a moment. He speaks possession of this donkey via His disciples when He says “the Master has use of it.” He redeems the donkey and us for Kingdom service, regardless of the state He finds us in. With His gentle, authoritative touch, we can serve the Kingdom splendidly.

Donkey trainers are encouraged to ask often; “what’s in it for donkey?” Donkeys are motivated by an apple or a carrot, but we are motivated by eternity. We serve faithfully here because reward and citizenship await us in heaven.

“As they were untying it, some bystanders demanded, “What are you doing, untying that colt?”” (Mark‬ ‭11:5‬ ‭NLT‬‬)

The Savior throws His garments on us. He covers our barnyard-sullied backsides with His white robes of righteousness; an outward symbol of our new belonging in Christ.

And just like that the donkey is a part of Christ’s journey to the cross. The same is true for us. When we surrender to Jesus, we get included in His story and lost in His glory. We don’t know what happens to the donkey from there, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he served the Savior for a season and that’s what gave him value in eternity.

“They did not conquer the land with their swords; it was not their own strong arm that gave them victory. It was your right hand and strong arm and the blinding light from your face that helped them, for you loved them.” (Psalms‬ ‭44:3‬ ‭NLT‬‬)

I’ve had opportunity to look back a bit lately. Some of the ugly estate stuff is settling; the cars are sold, the property is cleaned up, Mom and Dad’s House is a mere two weeks away from being someone else’s problem. It feels like I am in a small lull between major estate stuff and my brother’s brain surgery on the 19th of March. It’s affording me some much-needed time to post-process.

The Israelites did this, also. In Psalm 44 they looked back over their history books and they saw something remarkable. They saw God. They looked at the Exodus and the parting of the Red Sea and the long journey to the Promised Land, and they saw God’s hand of provision and protection. They considered Jericho and each of the mighty cities utterly emptied of their inhabitants, they counted the foes that had fallen by their wayside and they knew that God had done it. They gave God the glory. They realized that He had moved on their behalf because He loved them.

In my lovely lull between waves, I’ve had time to see the same kind of provision, protection and way-clearing in my own story. I couldn’t perceive it when I was crawling through, but now when I stare back into the abyss of this past year, the truth of His presence is solidifying. Like the man in the Footprints poem, I can clearly see the places where the Lord simply scooped me up and carried me. Even though those places felt so lonely in process, He was there. He never let go of me for even a moment. He was there because He loves me. And from the small trough of this precious lull, I can trust that He’s already standing amidst my next wave, whatever that may be, with strong arms ready to carry me all over again.

The Israelites looked back and saw God in their story and the sight of Him rallied their strength for the next battle. Lulls create opportunity for seeing our Savior amidst our waves and a myriad of reasons to trust Him when the next one crashes.

“Only by your power can we push back our enemies; only in your name can we trample our foes. I do not trust in my bow; I do not count on my sword to save me. You are the one who gives us victory over our enemies; you disgrace those who hate us. O God, we give glory to you all day long and constantly praise your name.” (Psalms‬ ‭44:5-8‬ ‭NLT)

Lord, You alone bring the victory and You get the glory. Thank You for being alive and real and present and powerful in all our battles, even if we can only see You in hindsight. May Your past performance record serve to solidify our faith in Your strength and Sovereignty. Amen.

Jesus was protecting His remaining time with His disciples. His purpose was twofold; presence and preaching. He wanted to be with them and wanted to keep teaching them. He knew their hours together were limited and that life after the cross would be more difficult than life in those moments.

As a parent, I can relate. My kids are seventeen and thirteen and for the past several years I see our time together as fleeting as the sands in an hourglass. I want to stop and count the grains. I know firsthand how hard life might be once they cross the threshold of our front door. Their childhoods are drawing to a close and it leaves a momma wondering how well she did.

Jesus foresaw His disciples moving out of His physical reach and therefore He capitalized on every reminding opportunity. He used those moments to love them well and hand out helpful tools. What a great example for parents of near blooming-adults!

I am encouraged that though the disciples didn’t quite get it at the cross or even on Easter morning, the truth did finally sink in. And then it ignited. These twelve men set the world on fire as a direct result of their experience with the living God. I wonder, what might my two children ignite when they finally fully comprehend who God is and how He’s equipped them?

Lord, thank You for the privilege of raising babies who grow up into people. We trust that You have been helping us all along the way and that You do good work, even with the messy materials of man. Help us stay to stay present and keep preaching. Keep us from giving up when parenting is hard or when it hurts. We see how You stayed with Your disciples up until the cross and then connected with them again after the resurrection. Help us to love our kids over the threshold of adulthood and into the fullness of who You have designed them to become. Don’t allow us to grow weary doing good. Amen.