Renew Your Mind And Sing

"I will sing unto the LORD as long as I live: I will sing praise to my God while I have my being. My meditation of him shall be sweet: I will be glad in the LORD." Psalm 104:33-34

When life seems empty, and nothing positive comes to mind, let the praise of the living God become your song. What is this praise? Psalm 105:1 teaches us: "Give thanks unto the LORD; call upon his name," and Psalm 105:3 adds, "Glory ye in his holy name." But this is more than simple gratitude. Psalm 103:3-5 reminds us of a deeper work: "Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; who redeemeth thy life from destruction; who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies."

The living God's "praise" is not an act of worship; it is the very essence of the living God’s "name" – a benevolent character that offers healing, restoration, and renewal. Yet, we must understand that this "name" is not a physical attribute, as its nature transcends the material world: "God is a Spirit" (John 4:24), and "a spirit hath not flesh and bones" (Luke 24:39). What we are given by the living God, therefore, is spiritual – intended for the mind, not the flesh, reminding us that "that which is born of the Spirit is spirit" (John 3:6). The renewing of our mind, as Paul counsels, is central to understanding this, because the saying, "Be renewed in the spirit of your mind" (Ephesians 4:23), reveals that our transformation starts within.

This praise is not about religious observance but rather about living in alignment with the Bible’s spiritual wisdom. In the Bible, this "name" is often synonymous with a "faith" or understanding, as it says, "Thou holdest fast my name, and hast not denied my faith" (Revelation 2:3). To praise the living God’s name is to embrace that “name’s” will and wisdom in our personal and devotional life, moving beyond ritual to inward renewal.

In this freedom, our minds are opened to the true "praise" of God – not merely in words, but in a complete transformation of our inner self. As we allow the Bible’s words to dwell richly within us, the devotional experience becomes a reflection of its grace and wisdom. This is the essence of true worship – not really in literal song, but in the very fabric of our being, which is why it says, “The true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth” (John 4:23).

To sing that “praise,” then, is not an external act but an internal state of being. It is a heart and mind united in the Bible’s truth and wisdom, continually renewing and transforming. Each day is an opportunity for us to learn more about ourselves and the Bible’s will, and through this knowledge, to better serve and edify those around us. The living God's praise is a process of self-discovery, and through this process, we discover our purpose – to love, to serve, and to grow.

Even when life feels negative, we must remember that all things are working to recover and restore our mind and heart, introducing us to a higher understanding of ourselves and our world. The Bible desires to cleanse our devotional conscience, freeing us from the burdens we have inherited or cultivated ourselves. This is not just for our own well-being but for the benefit of those around us: "The end of the commandment is charity out of a pure heart" (1 Timothy 1:5).

So, let every day be a celebration of this renewal – a chance to think differently, to feel more deeply, and to live more fully. Let our hearts sing not with an audible tune, but with the quiet confidence of knowing that we are being transformed by the living God's fact. Each breath we take is a testament to this faith in us, and in return, we should strive to live up to that understanding, seeking the living God’s “name” and praising it through our thoughts, words, and actions.

In this way, we become part of the greater song – a symphony of renewal, hope, and wisdom that carries us, and those we love, ever closer to the living God’s heart.

Born For A Purpose: Define Your Legacy

We are all born with a unique purpose, a reason that we often can’t see until we dare to take the risks necessary to discover it. Life may seem as though it's laid out on a predetermined path, with every twist and turn scripted in advance. But at some point, each of us will face a pivotal moment—a defining trial that shapes our legacy. How we navigate these moments, no matter how daunting or uncomfortable, is entirely up to us.

The story of the Hebrew midwives in ancient Egypt beautifully illustrates this point. The narrative goes:

"The king of Egypt spake to the Hebrew midwives...and he said, When ye do the office of a midwife to the Hebrew women, and see them upon the stools; if it be a son, then ye shall kill him: but if it be a daughter, then she shall live. But the midwives feared God, and did not as the king of Egypt commanded them, but saved the men children alive...Therefore God dealt well with the midwives: and the people multiplied, and waxed very mighty. And it came to pass, because the midwives feared God, that he made them houses." — Exodus 1:15-21

Who would have thought that these humble midwives, often overlooked in their day, would have their courage remembered for generations? Charged with a harrowing command to kill every male newborn of the Hebrew women, they instead chose to follow their faith and defy the king’s orders, risking their lives and livelihoods in the process. Their decision to honor their spiritual convictions over the demands of earthly power not only solidified their legacy, but also ensured their rewarded to have families of their own.

These midwives had one primary role: to assist in the birth of others. But their legacy became so much more than mere attendants to new life; it became a testament to the power of conscience and the courage to act against injustice. Their actions remind us that our reality isn’t confined to what we see or the roles we’re given. We are called to do more than merely observe life—we are called to shape how life is both understood and expressed in the world.

We are not given the gift of our belief to remain passive onlookers, watching others take the stage in life’s grand drama. Instead, we have a responsibility to nurture our inner selves, to grow and refine our understanding, and to share a piece of our self this with others. Each of us carries a unique essence, a personal fragrance that resonates with others who share a similar spirit. It is our duty to cultivate this essence, not to hoard it, but to let it blossom and spread as a blessing to the world.

Though the world may be stubborn and deeply entrenched in its ways, our purpose might not be to change it outright but to ignite a spark—one that lights the way for others to reconsider their own paths. We cannot contribute meaningfully to the world if we simply uphold traditions or systems that we know are flawed. True impact comes from courageously stepping into our knowledge, growing it, and letting it guide us to new, uncharted territories.

So, the question we must ask ourselves is this: Will we continue to play the supporting role, assisting in the birth of others’ dreams, or will we muster the courage to nurture our own? Will we dare to bring forth a legacy that stands in defiance of the conventional and speaks to a higher truth?

Looking to the example of the Hebrew midwives, we should understand that the greatest reward awaits those who are bold enough to align their actions with acquired wisdom. Their legacy teaches us that true courage is not just about defying earthly authority but about staying true to the philosophical convictions that guide our conscience. For those who dare to act in harmony with this higher calling, the path may not be easy, but the reward—a life of meaningful impact and enduring legacy—makes every risk worthwhile.

Ultimately, we are all called to do more than simply exist. We are here to challenge, to question, to grow, and to uplift. We are here to leave a mark, not just in the stories of others, but in the very fabric of our shared human experience.

An Empty Chase: The Wisdom of Proverbs 23:4-5

“Labour not to be rich: cease from thine own wisdom. Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that which is not? For riches certainly make themselves wings; they fly away as an eagle toward heaven,” says Proverbs 23:4-5. These words echo relevant truth, urging us to reconsider the nature of our desires and the wisdom we trust to guide them.

How often does our joy, contentment, or peace crumble under the weight of an unfulfilled expectation? We pin our hopes on what we believe we know—on things that seem true, reliable, and within reach. Yet, when reality reveals that what we sought was a mirage, we are left disillusioned, disappointed, and often depressed.

Our expectations fail not because of the effort we put in, but because they are built on what the Preacher calls "that which is not." This phrase has an important meaning: it refers to the fleeting, the insubstantial, the illusory. Like Job, who lamented, “My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and are spent without hope” (Job 7:6), we realize that the hopes founded on “that which is not” are as ephemeral as a breath.

When our aspirations rest on the satisfaction of our lower desires—what 1 Peter 4:3 describes as “lasciviousness, lusts, excess of wine, revelings, banquetings, and abominable idolatries”—we are bound to face disappointment. These desires, fueled by our own wisdom, promise us fulfillment but deliver emptiness. The sorrow that follows a failed expectation is not just about the loss of what we sought; it’s a reflection of our inability to let go of the very thing that led to our disappointment.

Consider the young man in Mark 19:22 who, after hearing convicting words, “went away sorrowful: for he had great possessions.” His sorrow wasn’t just about losing wealth; it was about the collapse of the worldview he had built around it. Like him, when our hopes are rooted in material gain or superficial success, we set ourselves up for sorrow. The issue isn’t merely the failed expectation; it’s the behavior and mindset that arise when we can’t let go of what prevents us from receiving true fulfillment.

The Bible’s call to refrain from our own wisdom and to cease laboring for riches is not just about rejecting materialism. It’s about embracing a higher way of living—one that values what truly matters. If the things we chase after lead to sorrow when they don’t materialize, then those things are not what truly matters. They are “that which is not”—temporary fixes for a deeper void that cannot be filled by worldly gains.

True fulfillment comes not from clinging to what we desire but from letting go, from giving selflessly, as Luke 6:38 teaches, and from trusting that the return will come in due time. The real wisdom lies in understanding that what matters most ignites a fire within us, urging us to press on with patience and reflection, rather than despair. The fleeting nature of “that which is not” distorts our character, leaving us empty, while pursuing “what is” transforms us, grounding us in reality and truth.

Instead of obsessing over what should be or what we think we deserve, we should focus on understanding our true needs. Proverbs 11:9 reminds us that “through knowledge shall the just be delivered.” Knowledge, not fantasy, leads to liberation. When we put off the “old man” (the old mind) of deceitful and sabotaging thoughts, feelings, and desires, as Ephesians 4:22-23 advises, and renew our minds, we open ourselves to genuine transformation.

Life often teaches us that what we think we know is a deceiving assumption. Our hearts, naturally inclined toward “that which is not,” resist the idea that we might not know what’s best for us. Yet, in trusting the intelligence within life, which stems from the living God—the invisible wisdom embedded in life’s very fabric—we find that even our disappointments can be transformed into blessings.

The challenge, then, is clear: monitor your thoughts, feelings, and actions. Discipline your imagination, which so often leads one astray, and bring all findings to the living God in prayer. Let go of what you think you know, and be willing to learn who you truly are and who you are meant to be. In this process of letting go and learning, we fulfill the call of Isaiah 1:17: “Learn to do well.”

Ultimately, the wisdom of Proverbs 23:4-5 is not just a warning against the pursuit of riches; it’s an invitation to pursue a life rooted in true understanding—a life where our desires align with what truly matters, and where our wisdom, coupled together with the Bible’s words, is shaped by life’s guiding cues, rather than our fleeting passions.