Remember what He has done…

What’s the big text that has stayed with you over the years? For me, 1 Samuel 21:1–9 is a big one; I preached on it 20 years ago. In life we learn to take what God gives, remember what He’s done, and keep walking under orders from the King. I’m going to have to repeat that soon because it is important. You’ll see why in a moment.

Remembering what God has done or in our distant past is not a note of triumph; it carries the hallmarks of a quiet sense of trust. The kind of trust that keeps you moving when the applause has stopped and the road ahead makes no sense.

There’s a brilliant narrative-pause in Scripture that captures it perfectly. David arrives in Ahimelek’s town, unannounced, hungry, tired, and alone. Ahimelek the priest looks up, uneasy. “Why are you alone? Why is no one with you?” This is not good. The mood music is not good. David, alone – is not good…

David already has his ducks in a row and answers, “The king sent me on a mission.” Really? It’s a shock to the system for the reader. It wasn’t Saul who sent him – Saul wanted him dead. Another King was at work. God was leading David into obscurity, away from the comfort of the palace and into the solitude of faith.

It could be said that God often pulls His people aside before He pushes them forward. Often or not, here’s such a case. God doesn’t always announce the mission. Sometimes He just sets it in motion and expects you to trust that He knows where He’s leading.

David is hungry and asks Ahimelek for bread. There’s a moment of hesitation and then the priest does something unexpected, and gives him the only bread available – the consecrated bread of the Presence. Bread that had been set before the Lord. It’s holy bread, the kind that nourishes more than the body. Again, it’s another shock to the system for a new covenant reader reading the old covenant narrative, watching David’s autobiography unfold.

God’s provision is rarely lavish. It’s measured; precise, not in abundance but in sufficiency, what you need, when you need it.

It’s not just about hunger and food though. David asks, “Is there a sword here?” and again Ahimelek seems primed for this moment, as if it were expected, “The sword of Goliath the Philistine, whom you killed in the Valley of Elah, is here. If you want it, take it. There is none other but that one.” It’s not that this sword is world-class, forged high quality Sheffield Steel, no, there’s something more ‘weighty’ about this one.

That sword was massive – far too heavy to handle easily, but David wasn’t looking for convenience; he was reaching for a reminder. The same weapon that once marked God’s faithfulness now became the only weapon he could carry. He looked at it and affirmed Ahimelek’s words: “There is none like it.” And there wasn’t. It wasn’t admiration; it was recognition. The God who gave victory in that valley Goliath had dominated – complete with the terrifying taunts, the spectre of ridicule and death, bellowing for Israel to surrender someone for battle – hadn’t changed. The sword wasn’t just steel; it was testimony.

And sometimes, that’s all you or I can do – take what God gives, remember what He’s done, and keep walking under orders from the King. It’s a noble, challenging and necessary call.

The drama is great and compelling reading (especially with an enemy in the shadows) but suffice it to say, David takes the bread, takes the sword, and walks on. No army, no fanfare, no certainty of tomorrow. Just enough strength for today.

We can’t leave it there, we have to reach out to the gospel and give ourselves some perspective. Paul wrote later, “For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God” (Romans 8:14). David was being led — not by fear, not by pride, but by the quiet direction of the Spirit. Paul takes us further, “If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit” (Galatians 5:25). That’s precisely and deliberately what David was doing, one weary, careful, intentional step at a time.

David wasn’t running away – he was being sent on. This was God’s hidden work, shaping him in silence before the throne, teaching him that obedience matters more than understanding.

Look at the narrative after and you will soon see that he’ll stumble, feigning madness to stay alive, protect his skin. That’s the honest truth. Faith doesn’t always look heroic. But even then, beneath the trembling, the mission of the King continues. The mood music is what it should be. Optimistic. Hopeful. Majestic …

God’s servants often look like they’ve lost the plot when they’re actually right where He wants them – unarmed in appearance, but quietly armed with memory, mercy, and purpose.

And in the end, that’s the truth that carries us through:and sometimes, that’s all you can do – take what God gives, remember what He’s done, and keep walking under orders from the King.

There will be fresh challenges ahead, but God is with you and for you.

It’s never time to give up. And that, as they say, is that.

Before your eyelids opened today …

Need something to give a bit of skibidi to your day? How about, Jeremiah’s contention; “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.” And it gets better, “His mercies never come to an end – they are new every morning.” That’s textbook Jeremiah, straight from his latest podcast in Lamentations 3:22-23. It’s not a sentiment or a “Pippa says” comment. It’s not embroidered on a pillow or floating in some Instagram sunrise featuring parrots, Guinea pigs or startled cats either, it’s a declaration wrung out in the face of despair, spoken by a man watching his city burn.

Jerusalem had fallen. The covenant people were broken, their temple razed, their streets filled with grief. This isn’t a verse made for a coffee mug or the faux leather cover of your mobile phone. It’s truth gasped out between sobs. It’s intense, meaningful and essential. Jeremiah wasn’t preaching ‘just pull your socks up’ optimism. Let this sink in, reach into this because it’s relevant for today, your day, as it is unleashed in the hours ahead. Jeremiah was anchoring reality to the character of God. It’s a radical, compelling assertion, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.” Never.

Now look closely. Steadfast. Love. Never. Ceases. That’s not the language of a passing feeling. That’s covenant Cross-focused talk. It’s fierce, unshakable, and rooted not in us but in Him. Written with conviction. And it demands something from you.

You woke up this morning (apparently!), and maybe you reached for your phone before you prayed, gave thanks or mumbled in tongues. Maybe the oppressive to-do list hit before the Word did. But this Scripture doesn’t wait for your schedule. It intrudes. It calls you to attention. First thing, because every single morning, without exception, mercy stands at your door before your alarm clock does. Not mercy shaped by how well you performed yesterday (or didn’t). Not mercy conditioned by your feelings or your faithfulness. No! It’s new mercy. Fresh. Not leftovers. Not reheated sentiment. New. Brand new.

And this mercy is not passive. It calls you to act. To respond. To reorder everything. “New every morning” is not a sweet reassurance. It’s a summons. The mercy that meets you is the same mercy that commands you. Because if God gives mercy, He means for you to do something with it. You do not receive daily mercies to drift through life unchanged. You’re not here to coast. If mercy is new, then so must be your obedience, your trust and your surrender to Him and His purpose for, with and in you.

Jeremiah doesn’t say “God understands your struggle, He gets you.” He says God’s love doesn’t stop. That’s different. God is not catering to your weariness. He is calling you up into His purposes. Every morning, you are summoned to align your will with His. This is not about you being understood. This is about you being transformed.

It’s easy to say “God is faithful.” Harder to live like it. Harder to rise each day and put yesterday’s failures to death, and walk again in newness. But that’s what’s offered. A reset. Not a soft reboot, but a complete reorientation – with extra ‘ram’ of purpose, vision and courage added. You get out of bed not to repeat the same old routine but to enter again into the call of God on your life. First things first. Not coffee. Not news. Not scrolling. God.

And here’s where it presses in. If His mercies are new every morning, then your excuses from yesterday don’t hold. Yesterday’s compromise, yesterday’s silence, yesterday’s indifference, all of it gets confronted. Not condemned. Confronted. Because mercy gives no shelter to apathy. It frees you to obey. God has given you a new day.

This is the demand Jeremiah places on you like a snuggly fitting hoodie. To wake up and remember that mercy is a gift with purpose. God is not generous for sentiment’s sake. He pours mercy to move you, to set your feet on the path again, to cause worship, obedience, repentance, courage, clarity. You’re not being fussed. You’re being equipped.

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end … they are new every morning.” Get up, make a coffee, eat your breakfast and then live like it’s true.

Because it is.