My Portion

Transcript

Hello, my friend… so glad you're with me today. This is By God's Call — day 327, My Portion.

"The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him." Lamentations 3:24.

Let that verse land. Don't rush past it. Lamentations is not a book of easy victories — it is a book of real grief. It rises from the rubble of Jerusalem's destruction. The streets are empty. The temple is ash. A people who lost everything they believed held their lives together. And it is precisely there, at the very bottom of the pit, that this voice rises — not with tidy answers, not with a polished explanation — but with a declaration: the LORD is my portion.

The deepest faith is not born when everything is going well. It is born when nothing else remains.

And notice what the text says carefully: says my soul. This is not a feeling that arrived on its own. It is a choice. The poet's wounded soul decides — in the middle of the ruins — to speak truth about God. That is what Scripture calls hope. Not naivety. Not a denial of the pain. It is a declaration made on one's knees, with eyes wide open to the wreckage, still pointing toward Him.

Now think about what the word portion means. In Israel's inheritance, the portion was what God gave each tribe to live on — the land, the sustenance, the ground beneath everything. To say "the LORD is my portion" is to say: He is not an add-on to my life. He is not a supplement I reach for when I need a little extra help. He is the ground I am standing on. He is the broken bread that sustains me — the same Christ who today is broken and given for you.

And then comes that one small word that changes everything: therefore. Therefore I will hope in him. The poet does not hope because circumstances improved. He hopes because he has reached a theological conclusion: God is enough. And because God is enough, hope makes sense. This kind of waiting is not folding your arms in resignation. It is active trust — holding steady while He moves. It is an anchor that does not give way even when the storm stretches on for months.

There are days like that. I know there are. Days when you look around and all that seems to be left is God — and somehow, that feels like not enough. But the writer of Lamentations discovered something you can discover today: whoever has God has the very spring from which every good thing that has ever existed flows. It is not little. It is the source of everything.

And so, my friend, we come to today. Before breakfast — before the first notification, before the noise begins — pause for just a moment. Standing, kneeling, it doesn't matter. And say out loud, in your own words, something simple and true: that the LORD is your portion today. It doesn't need to be eloquent. It needs to be honest. Let your soul choose hope before anything else gets to it first.

Stay close to God. Pray — then act. I'll see you tomorrow, my friend.