The painting hung on the wall of a home for years, unnoticed and forgotten, until one day it fell. When it was taken to an art restorer for repairs, he discovered it was a long-lost Rembrandt masterpiece titled The Adoration of the Magi. It had been thought that only copies of the work remained, but here was the original. Suddenly the painting’s value skyrocketed to hundreds of millions of dollars.

The Bible paints another picture of underestimated value and forgotten worth. Isaiah the prophet, inspired by the Holy Spirit, told God’s people that even though they would be taken away to a foreign land where they would suffer and be devalued, He would still be with them: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine,” He assured them (Isaiah 43:1). Though they would “pass through the waters” and “walk through the fire” ( v. 2), His faithfulness to them would not change. With words that point to His coming kingdom in Christ, God promised that He would one day restore “everyone who is called by my name,” (v. 7) and bring them home to Him.

God will one day gather all who are His because they “are precious and honored in [His] sight” (v. 4), each one an original! Our Creator values us because of His infinite kindness and mercy. The world may overlook us, but He never will.

From her hospital bed, Marie Coble lit up when she saw the delivery driver whose help had likely saved her life. She’d fallen in her driveway and hit her head, causing a brain bleed. Seeing her injury, Raheem Cooper helped her while calling paramedics. Invited by family to visit her in the hospital, Raheem often brings sweet treats she enjoys to assist her recovery.

Their story brings to mind the parable of the Good Samaritan. The parable is Jesus’ reply to an expert’s question on what he must do to inherit eternal life. Do “what is written in the law,” Jesus said (Luke 10:26), including “love your neighbor as yourself” (v. 27). But the expert persisted, asking, “Who is my neighbor?” (v. 29).

Christ’s answer describes a man attacked by robbers, left half dead, and then ignored by two people—a priest and a Levite—who passed him by. “But a Samaritan . . . took pity on him” (v. 33), bandaged his wounds, and took care of him. Seeing the hurting man in need, the Samaritan’s help was active, urgent, and without bias—looking past race or creed to assist someone he could’ve ignored.

Thus, Jesus asked, which of these three was a neighbor to the man? “The one who had mercy on him,” the expert said. Said Jesus, “Go and do likewise” (v. 37). In Christ, we too can find the compassion to help a hurting person instead of passing by. It’s a lesson for all in sharing Jesus’ love.

Hippocrates (ca. 460–375 bc) brought medicine out of the realm of the superstitious and into the light of testing and observation. But he didn’t lose sight of the patient’s humanity. “It is far more important to know what person the disease has,” he said, “than what disease the person has.”

The apostle Paul cared for a church with multiple problems, yet he saw the humanity of each member—including a man who’d committed a sin “that even pagans do not tolerate” (1 Corinthians 5:1). Paul dealt strongly with the “disease,” and the man repented. Now, as he wrote another letter to the church in Corinth, Paul had affirming instructions for all of them. He recognized that this man’s sin had affected everyone. “He has grieved all of you to some extent,” he said (2 Corinthians 2:5). But since the man had turned from his sin, Paul said, “Reaffirm your love for him” (v. 8).

His motivation was clear: “I wrote you out of great distress and anguish of heart and with many tears, not to grieve you but to let you know the depth of my love for you” (v. 4). He knew them all. And he loved them.

Sin affects us all. Behind each sin is a human being. When we’ve been wronged, it may be difficult to work toward restoration, yet that’s what God calls us to do. Know the person. Then, in Christ’s strength, love them.

When I led a ministry for moms of preschoolers, we hunted for an image to describe the unending demands that mothers experience. Changing diapers. Wiping noses. Picking up toys. It turns out the image was right in front of us: a disposable juice box, collapsed in on itself. Moms can feel like empty juice boxes. That ministry served moms by leading them to the Source of living water that can fill them to the full—Jesus.

In John 7, Jesus went to the Festival of Tabernacles (v. 12), commemorating God’s provision during the Israelites’ wilderness wanderings. This festival included a water-pouring rite symbolizing the fruitfulness that only moisture produces and foreshadowed the spiritual rain the Messiah would bring. Jesus fulfills what the ancient festival anticipated. “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them” (vv. 37-38).

At times, we can feel like empty containers. Weary from caregiving. Worn from working. Exhausted by everyday responsibilities. The unending demands draw us dry! But when we live in relationship with God, He provides springs of living water within our heart to refresh and refuel us no matter how many cares and concerns try to drain us.

In the midst of colorful creations made from old plastic bottles cut to resemble feathers and even lampshades, a tour guide at the New Orleans museum shared the thinking behind the use of such material. “For a city that’s had such hardship, we’ve also learned to use what we have to create joy and beauty. We don’t focus only on the hard times; we celebrate the resilience.”

Nehemiah and the Israelites also faced hardship but resiliently pressed on in God’s joy. They’d been captured and taken away from their home, and at last were able to return to Jerusalem from exile (Nehemiah 4:7-12). But upon arriving, they still faced opposition to rebuild the wall that protected Jerusalem (Nehemiah 6). Even after the wall was completed and they gathered for a celebration, hearing the words of God’s law, their spirits were heavy. They were “weeping as they listened” (8:9). But Nehemiah reminded them that they could find joy and strength in God—remembering who He was and what He’d brought them through. Nehemiah told them, “The joy of the Lord is your strength” (v. 10).

Focusing on God can give us joy and strength too, especially when our circumstances seem dire. God’s ability, character, and the Scriptures can renew our minds and bring us joy (v. 12)—providing the strength and resilience we need.

“Dad, can you get me some water?” my youngest daughter asked. “Sure,” I said, bringing her a full cup. She took it wordlessly. Then my oldest daughter made the same request. She didn’t respond either after I got her some water. Annoyed, I blurted out, “Is anyone going to say, ‘Thank you’? Why is that so hard?”

Sometimes there’s nothing like parental frustration to open the door for God to work. Immediately, I felt the gentle nudge of the Holy Spirit: Yes, Adam, why is it so hard to say “Thank you”? Busted. Turns out a lack of gratitude isn’t just my kids’ problem; it’s mine, too.

I don’t know why saying thank you can be so hard, but it certainly seems to be a part of the human condition. In the psalms, however, we see a model for growing in gratitude. There, David and others often praise God amid myriad trials. And a particular phrase frequently precedes their thanksgiving: “I will.”

In Psalm 9:1, David deliberately chooses thankfulness: “I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds.” We might be prone to think of gratitude primarily as a feeling. But David reminds us that it’s also a choice.

Like David, as we choose to cultivate a habit of giving thanks, we can gradually grow to recognize and appreciate God’s goodness in every aspect of life.

An older man jogging down a street in New York City stopped in his tracks when he noticed a pair of battered sneakers placed near a homeless man’s sign requesting help. When the jogger learned that the two men wore a similar size, he gave the younger, homeless man the shoes (and socks!) off his feet and walked home barefoot. But not before explaining, “I’ve been blessed my whole life. God has been very good to me, so I feel like I should bless you too.”

Just as this man showed kindness to another because God had been good to him, so too believers in Jesus are called to “clothe [our]selves with . . . kindness” (Colossians 3:12). In fact, in whatever we do or say, we’re to do it as “a representative of the Lord Jesus” (v. 17 NLT). Along with kindness, we’re also to embody the characteristics of compassion, humility, gentleness, and patience (v. 12). These fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22–23) grow in us because we have the Spirit dwelling inside us; and they evidence God’s love for us flowing out to others—binding all these virtues “together in perfect unity” (Colossians 3:14).

Like the jogger, may we be on alert for opportunities to be kind—an encouraging word, a thoughtful act, or even giving the shoes off our feet—and as we do, let’s point to Jesus (v. 17).

Corey Brooks—“The Rooftop Pastor”—spent 343 days living on the rooftop of his church on Chicago’s south side to inspire community transformation. Online, Brooks posted a “shout-out” to his elementary school teacher, Joe Stokes, who taught him four unforgettable lessons: the power of perseverance, the importance of integrity, the value of community engagement, and the impact of education.

By embracing Solomon’s wisdom in Proverbs 3, we likewise can strive to live in ways that have community impact. Solomon taught four lessons that are just right for those who trust in God and are called to be a positive force: “Trust in the Lord” (v. 5); “fear the Lord and shun evil” (v. 7); “honor the Lord with your wealth” (v. 9); “do not despise the Lord’s discipline” (v. 11). Such wisdom compels us to be God-focused, but there are people-touching dimensions to our faith too.

In Matthew 5:3-12, Jesus, the ultimate embodiment of wisdom, eloquently described the internal disposition of believers in Jesus. Furthermore, He reminded them that they were high-impact people. “You are the salt of the earth” (v. 13). “You are the light of the world” (v. 14). As such, we are honored to, “Let [our] light shine . . . that they may see [our] good deeds and glorify [our] Father in heaven” (v. 16).