Photo from Unsplash
August 28
Morning
olive oil for the light; spices for the anointing oil and for the fragrant incense; — Exod 25:6 BSB
My soul, how much you need this, for your lamp won’t keep burning without oil. Without the Holy Spirit’s grace, your flame will sputter and smoke, and soon it will go out. You have no natural source of oil within yourself, so you must go to the One who supplies it, or, like the foolish virgins, you will have to cry, "My lamp has gone out!"
Even the sacred lamps in the tabernacle couldn’t burn without oil. Though they were sheltered from the winds, they still needed to be filled and trimmed. In the same way, under the best conditions, you cannot continue to shine for even an hour without fresh grace from God.
Not just any oil would do for the Lord’s service; it couldn’t be petroleum from the earth, oil from fish, or nut oil. Only the best olive oil was acceptable. Similarly, grace that comes from natural goodness, from rituals, or from religious ceremonies will not sustain a true believer. Only the pure oil of gospel grace, drawn from Christ, the true Olive, crushed in Gethsemane, will suffice.
Our churches are Christ’s golden lampstands, and if they are to shine in this dark world, they need an abundance of this holy oil. Let’s pray that we, our ministers, and our churches will never lack the oil of the Spirit. Truth, holiness, joy, knowledge, and love—these are all beams of the sacred light, but they can’t shine unless we receive fresh oil from the Holy Spirit.
Evening
“Shout for joy, O barren woman, who bears no children; break forth in song and cry aloud, you who have never travailed; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband,” says the LORD. — Isa 54:1 BSB
Though we have borne some fruit for Christ, and have a joyful hope that we are “plants of His own right hand,” there are times when we feel barren. Our prayers feel lifeless, our love grows cold, and our faith seems weak. Every grace in the garden of our heart droops and withers, like flowers in the scorching sun, crying out for the refreshing rain of God’s grace.
What should we do when we find ourselves in such a state? The text gives us the answer: “Sing, O barren one! Break forth into joyful song.” But what can I sing about? The present feels barren, and even the past seems unfruitful. Ah, but I can sing about Jesus! I can recount His visits to me in the past. And if I can’t recall those, I can magnify the great love He showed when He came down from heaven to redeem us. I will return to the cross. Come, my soul, you once found life there—perhaps you will find fruitfulness there as well.
My barrenness is the stage for His fruit-creating power. My desolation is the black backdrop for the sapphire of His everlasting love. I will come to Him in my poverty and helplessness, in all my shame and failures, and I will remind Him that I am still His child. With confidence in His faithful heart, I, the barren one, will sing and rejoice!
Sing, believer, for it will lift your own heart and encourage others who feel desolate. Sing on, for now that you loathe your barrenness, God will soon cover you with fruit. Now that you are ashamed of your lack, He will soon clothe you with abundance. The experience of barrenness is painful, but the Lord’s visitations are delightful. Our sense of poverty drives us to Christ, and in Him, our fruit is found!