Day 33

For your benefit

To Start

Mother Theresa said, "In the silence of the heart, God speaks." Silence your heart and listen.

Pray

Yahweh, tell me a better story. Show me a better way.

Help me put aside what’s good to take hold of what’s great.

Read

Read John 16:5-7.

As you read consider…

• Verse five begins with the transition word “but” putting the content of verse five in tension with verse four: “… I didn’t tell you these things from the beginning, because I was with you. ⁵ But now I am going away…” What do the apostles need now that they didn’t need before?

• Jesus says, “Not one of you asks me, ‘Where are you going?’” Have they not? What questions have the apostles asked in chapters 13-16? Skim the text. What do the nuanced differences between this question and the questions they’ve asked reveal about what matters to Jesus?

• Why are the apostles filled with sorrow?

• Tomorrow we’ll talk more about what’s good about the coming Counselor. For now, put yourself in the apostles’ shoes. Would it have been hard to imagine something better than life with Jesus in the flesh?

John 16:5-7 (CSB)

^{5 “}But now I am going away to him who sent me, and not one of you asks me, ‘Where are you going?’ ⁶ Yet, because I have spoken these things to you, sorrow has filled your heart. ⁷ Nevertheless, I am telling you the truth. It is for your benefit that I go away, because if I don’t go away the Counselor will not come to you. If I go, I will send him to you.”

From JL

It is for your benefit that I go away…

We sold the house on Liberty to move into a beautiful new house just a few miles down the road. It backed up to a city park with walking trails. The kitchen was extraordinary. The girls had their own rooms. I had a spot for praying beside a giant picture window.

We’d known we’d eventually need to move for years. The Liberty house was a grab bag of problems. Holes in the 70-year-old wood floors. A front door that needed to be replaced. Termites. Feral cats living under the crawl space. And an air conditioning unit always on the verge of dramatic death. We loved the house, held onto it as best we could for ten years, always patching and painting and praying.

On my last day in the house, having cleaned it a final time, hands and knees dirtied with bits of a life I was leaving behind, I stood in the empty living room weeping, my chest heaving, my hands in tight fists trying to hold onto something I’d already lost.

It was the house, but it was more than the house. The girls were entering middle school. They’d have separate rooms. Looking ahead felt scary. If I didn’t have this house, the house they’d grown up in, the house with the pencil lines on the door frame to measure their heights, would I be able to look back?

It all felt like a kind of exile, like leaving behind who we’d been.

I loved who we’d been. I never wanted to leave that house.

But I did. I packed the cleaning supplies into the Kia, and drove away.

It wasn’t easy to get used to the new house. It didn’t have any memories yet. But we made some, and they were lovely.

After just a year in the new house, we moved out. God led us somewhere new—first to England, then Ireland and Croatia, France and South Africa, Italy, Greece, and Egypt. When I think of my favorite moments with my family, these are the moments I remember: a walk beside the English Channel, a sunset beside giant rocky outcroppings on the north coast of Ireland, thrifting in Rome, climbing Mount Sinai in the dark, summiting at dawn, Pentecost in the garden of an Egyptian sheik, tea made over a fire, Justin’s joy, London’s eager eyes, Eve’s embrace.

Now we live in the Ozarks in a house on a holler near a river. And it is perfect, too.

What would life have been like had we stayed in the house on Liberty? It would have been good. But God had more for us. It felt like a risk, letting Him take the good thing out of my hands, but I had to be willing to let go in order to take hold of something even better.

I think this is what Jesus was asking the apostles to do. I imagine it felt like exile at the start, but then, like going home.

In the Comments

Today we’ll use this section to share highlights from your comments a couple days ago. Here’s what it’s looked like for you to let go of one thing to receive another:

Yes, I have made a transition. I founded a nonprofit, Bridge II Sports, and adapted sports program to serve youth, adults, and veterans with physical disabilities through adapted sport in hopes they would find life again after profound brokenness. Twenty years later, many event, many lives' impacted, I felt like Yahweh was asking me to let that go. In December of 2025, I passed the reigns to another leader, and stepped down. I fully believe it was the right decision. I fully believe Yahweh is in it. Many have asked, how does it feel to let go of your "baby". I started it because I felt like Yahweh asked me to be a "light in a dark place, to shine a light as no-one flourishes in a box. I said yes. I have been seeking and asking where God would have me serve. I have been dealing with some health issues that are slowly coming into some compliance (LOL, as if I have much control over my body.). Yahweh gave me time to rest, focus, and pray.

Ashley Thomas

I remember being a junior in high school and finally feeling a sense of belonging. I had a super close-knit group of friends in my church’s youth group, and almost all of us were set to go to the same christian university. Then, on a college visit, I came to find out that they didn’t offer my desired major. I was devastated. The future I had envisioned was no longer possible. Doors were opening to another university and it started to all click into place. I see now that going to school with my youth group friends might have been fun but likely stagnant. God was offering me other friendships and opportunities and I’m so glad I took Him up on them.

Hope Smith

Here is something I’ve been struggling with over the last few years... I’ve shared about my church experiences over the last few years in other comments (moving from one city to another one, coming to a new church, and so on). For the last 2 or 3 years, though, MANY have left. Though there have been incredible reasons for many who have left (some to plant a church, another to lead a university Bible department), others who have left I’ve honestly taken very personally. I’ve felt a sense of betrayal and hurt. Also, I’ve blamed myself, trying to say if I had been a better friend, they’d still be there.

Through all of that, though, I’ve had this sense that we’re still where we’re supposed to be... I think what Yahweh has been trying to help me learn is that, while I was growing so much in my Biblical knowledge, I wasn’t growing in my trust of Him as much as I could have. My prayer life is far better now than it was, and I have a much better sense and confidence in the presence of the Spirit, too.

David Mohundro

I’m a second generation homeschooler who homeschooled my own kiddos for five years until I sensed the Lord asking me to be open to public school last summer. Our financial situation had changed dramatically after my husband left a very lucrative job, I was dealing with some unexplained health symptoms and mental illness relapse, and my kids were struggling academically as a result of my struggle to consistently teach them. As much as I hated the idea of public school, it felt like God was holding my hand while we walked in that direction. I literally panicked on the kids’ first day. And now, a few weeks away from finishing our first full year, I’m so grateful that this was where He led us. It took so much humility and letting go and trusting what I couldn’t yet see. But that one decision of obedience has borne fruit in all four members of our family (because of course it has.) 🙂

Bethany Welborn

(If you didn’t leave a comment already, we’d love to hear your story in today’s comments.)

Godspeed,

JL