Chosen and Sent

 

Jesus told them, 

‘The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. 

Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers 

into His harvest field.’ 

 Luke 10:2

The new year opens not with control, but with calling. Jesus looks out on the world and names its deepest reality: the harvest is already plentiful. Need is everywhere, hearts are ready, and God is already at work long before we arrive. Yet Jesus does not begin by urging action; He begins by calling His disciples to prayer. “Ask the Lord of the harvest,” He says, grounding mission first in dependence. William Barclay notes that Jesus sends His followers “not as conquerors, but as messengers,” reminding us that we enter the year not to manage outcomes, but to participate humbly in God’s work—bearing a word of peace, trusting God with the results, and leaving the harvest in His hands rather than our own.

Jesus then sends His disciples ahead of Him—lightly, vulnerably, and together (Luke 10:1, 4). “I am sending you out like lambs among wolves,” He warns (Luke 10:3), offering no illusion of ease, only the assurance of purpose. E. Stanley Jones observed that the early Christians were effective not because they were powerful, but because they were convinced that “something had happened in the world that changed everything.” They went bearing peace, healing the sick, and announcing that “the kingdom of God has come near” (Luke 10:9). God’s choosing propels them outward—not with force, but with faithful presence.

As we step into this new year, we are reminded that being sent does not require a complete map of the future. Rick Warren wisely says, “God’s call on your life is not about your ability, but your availability,” encouraging us to stop waiting until we feel confident or capable, and instead to offer ourselves—ordinary, willing, and present—for God to use as He chooses. Such a life must be sustained by prayer. As E. M. Bounds insisted, “God shapes the world by prayer,” reminding us that prayer keeps us close to the heart of God when the path ahead feels uncertain. As we pray, we learn to ask, to trust, and to obey—walking forward with quiet confidence that what we need will be given along the way and that God’s purposes will unfold one faithful step at a time.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, as this new year begins, send us where You will. Teach us to pray before we act, to trust rather than control, and to live as people of peace in the places You place us. Go before us and work through us for Your kingdom. Amen.

The Freedom of Friendship

Chosen to Love

Scripture Reading: John 15:12–17

“I have called you friends.” — John 15:15

As we stand at the doorway of a new year, our peace is often shaped by what we can see and measure—circumstances, outcomes, and expectations. Yet Jesus offers a joy that does not depend on what is visible or predictable. He tells us that His desire is that His joy may be in us, and that our joy may be complete (John 15:11). This joy flows from abiding in Him, from lives intertwined with Christ so deeply that we are no longer tossed about by changing fortunes. Rooted in the Vine, we discover a steady wholeness that holds us firm through both hardship and ease.

This joy expresses itself in love—“that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12). Jesus’ love is not abstract or sentimental; it is self-giving and concrete, willing even to lay down its life (John 15:13). The love we are asked to share is not something we must create from our own limited resources, but a gift we first receive. As we abide in Christ’s love, it begins to overflow naturally into listening, helping, forgiving, and giving—often in quiet, ordinary ways.

What makes such a life possible is Jesus’ astonishing declaration: “I do not call you servants any longer… I have called you friends” (John 15:15). Friendship with Christ does not depend on physical sight, perfect understanding, or emotional certainty. Helen Keller, blind and deaf from an early age, spoke of her faith with simple clarity when she said, “I know Him because I love Him.” Her words remind us that knowing Jesus is ultimately a matter of the heart. As the year unfolds, we are invited to release the need to prove our worth or grasp for control, and instead to abide—living as friends of Christ, rooted in His joy, shaped by His love, and resting in his peace.

Prayer

Lord Jesus, thank You for calling us Your friends. Teach us to abide in Your love beyond what we can see or understand. Shape our hearts by Your joy and grace, that we may love one another as You have loved us and bear fruit that endures. Amen.

 

Chosen in Gratitude

Scripture Readings: 1 Thessalonians 1:2–10; Luke 2:36–38

We remember before our God and Father 

your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love,

 and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.

1 Thessalonians 1:3

Our identity as the "chosen" of God is not found in status or outward success, but through the visible transformation of our character. In 1 Thessalonians 1:2–10, Paul recognizes God’s choosing of the believers through their "faith at work, love in action, and hope that endures." This election is not a hidden secret, but a lived reality that bears fruit in the world. As the year wanes, we are invited to look back and give thanks for the quiet evidences of grace—those moments where God’s hand shaped us unseen, moving us from mere words to "power, with the Holy Spirit and deep conviction." Gratitude, therefore, becomes the true language of election; we realize we are chosen because we see His love actively working through us.

This spirit of gratitude is embodied in the Witness of Waiting found in the life of Anna (Luke 2:36–38). Having spent decades in the Temple through "fasting and prayer night and day," Anna’s long years of devotion did not lead to bitterness, but to a sharpened spiritual clarity. The moment she sees the child, she begins to give thanks to God and speaks of Him to all who are "waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem." Her life teaches us a vital lesson: those who have learned to wait well become the first witnesses when hope arrives. Anna was chosen to recognize the Messiah not by a sudden stroke of luck, but because her years of patient prayer had prepared her heart to see what others missed.

Today, we find ourselves in our own season of waiting as we transition toward a new year. We are reminded that our faithfulness is a response to the One who first called us. Like the Thessalonians, our lives can become a "model" to others when we allow our gratitude to overflow into action. Like Anna, our persistence in prayer prepares us to testify to the redemption that is already at work in our midst. We conclude this year not by counting our own achievements, but by giving thanks for the enduring mercy that has held us. We recognize that we are chosen not for our own glory, but to be witnesses to the Light that has finally dawned.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, we thank You for the quiet evidences of Your grace that have shaped us throughout this year. Grant us the patience of Anna, that we might learn to wait well and recognize Your redemption in the world around us. May our lives be marked by faith, love, and hope as we rest in the joy of being chosen by You. Amen.

Chosen by God

Before We Choose

Scripture Readings: Psalm 89:1–18; Luke 2:22–35

“I will sing of the Lord’s great love forever; 

with my mouth I will make Your faithfulness 

known through all generations.”

Psalm 89:1

As Christmas draws toward its close, Psalm 89 calls us back to the deep foundation of our faith: God’s steadfast love comes first. “Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne; love and faithfulness go before You” (Psalm 89:14). Before we respond, before we understand, before we act, God has already bound Himself to His people in covenant mercy. Our lives do not rest on our resolve, but on promises spoken long before we knew how to answer. This is where the Christian life always begins—not with self-confidence, but with trust in God’s enduring faithfulness.

That same quiet truth is revealed in the temple when Mary and Joseph bring the child Jesus in simple obedience (Luke 2:22). There is no spectacle—only faithfulness. Yet Simeon, shaped by long years of waiting and prayer, recognizes what others cannot see. Taking the child in his arms, he declares, “My eyes have seen Your salvation, which You have prepared in the sight of all nations” (Luke 2:30–31). God’s Messiah is revealed not to the hurried or powerful, but to those who have learned to wait with hope. Recognition is born not of insight alone, but of patience formed over time.

Simeon’s blessing holds both joy and cost. This child will bring light and salvation, yet His path will be marked by suffering (Luke 2:34–35). From the beginning, God’s choosing is not sentimental—it is redemptive and costly. Today we are invited to begin again, resting not in what we can accomplish, but in what God has already promised and fulfilled. Like Simeon, we wait with trust, confident that the God who chooses also completes His work.

Prayer

Heavenly Father, help us remember that You chose us before we chose You. Teach us to wait with hope, to trust Your promises, and to rest our lives in Your steadfast love. Amen.