I don’t know about you, but I grew up in a pretty homogenous town. I liken it to being enveloped in bubble wrap. Mine was a protected upbringing where anyone different stood out. When my husband became a Soldier, he blended into any camouflage group. My little boys would grab onto the boots of any Soldier and look up for “daddy” because everyone looked like daddy. But even with this visual uniformity, military life was different. Different as in: different people, different attitudes, a different way of doing things. And the diversity caused unanticipated culture shock.

I soon learned to appreciate different! Every military community brings together different groups—people from different religions, even Christians from different denominations with different practices. I learned that “different” did not mean it was time to draw division lines, but to embrace differences and be enriched by encountering something new.

The Jewish leaders who criticized Jesus for eating with “tax collectors and sinners” did not like “different.” The fact that Jesus shared a table with those who were considered outsiders made them suspicious of him. Their job was to ensure everyone followed the same religious rules, and this made Jesus’ actions unacceptable. They did not understand that Jesus did not just eat with people who were different for the sake of being different. He knew that even—especially—those who were different in his day had spiritual needs. They were spiritually sick. They needed healing, salvation, and hope.

Military life certainly brings together people from a variety of backgrounds, but all of us have in common a need for Christ’s mercy and salvation. Jesus prioritized people in need and gave them a place at his table. Sisters, don’t be afraid of different.

What have you learned about “different” since becoming a military wife? Differences abound, even among Christians. What challenges and opportunities are there when those differences are shared?

As Jesus traveled and taught many people heard his teaching and, just like many churchgoers today after hearing a good sermon, simply went home without understanding or turning their lives around. Others, however, who heard Jesus teach and wanted to learn more. They hung around and listened as Jesus pulled the disciples aside for some intense leadership training and further explanation.

Jesus had much to teach his twelve apostles to prepare them to carry on his mission after he was gone. They needed to know some secrets about the kingdom of God. They could not understand these secrets on their own. They needed the special revelation that only he could give. Aren’t you encouraged to read that Jesus did not shoo away those who were not among the Twelve? He was willing to share the secrets with anyone who wanted to listen and learn.

The situation is no different for us today. The only way we ever truly understand the Word of God is through the Holy Spirit who helps us. “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth” (John 16:3).

That is the reason you are encouraged to begin each daily Waypoint with the short prayer from Psalm 119:18: “Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law.”

Jesus encountered those who admired his words, yet were content to watch from the periphery; and others who wanted to know more and pressed in closer to hear him elaborate on his teaching. The first group certainly included those challenged by Jesus’ words. The second is where you would be more likely to find those who were changed by Jesus’ truths. In which group would you be found?

Maybe you have read the Scriptures or a devotional entry and something seemed to jump off the page for you. How might that indicate Jesus taking you aside to help you understand his teaching? Are you standing on the periphery or pressing in to learn more about Jesus?

As I type these words I watch a storm move across the ocean and spill onto the shore. The storm made a quick debut and the scene on the beach is anything but peaceful. The wind is blowing; people are frantic to pull down umbrellas and tents. And the beautiful morning had held such promise of a lazy day of beach-bum perfection.

Storms, literal or symbolic, can be swift and unexpected. But they are going to come. Even when you are serving Christ storms will come. The disciples would tell you storms come even when Jesus is right next to you.

The event described in Mark 4 was not your average storm. This storm threatened to overwhelm the boat with its furious wind. The disciples found themselves in a desperate situation and they were terrified. Don’t miss the irony here: the carpenter, Jesus, was resting peacefully while the professional fishermen, James, John, Andrew, and Peter, were frantic with fear. Jesus was able to sleep because of his trust in God. The disciples did not see trust in his relaxation; they saw a lack of care and concern for their welfare.

Nothing was farther from the truth. Jesus was concerned enough for the disciples that he calmed the storm and gave them an “aha!” moment as they began to grasp who he really was (Mark 4:40–41). On a day when the disciples thought they would simply sail to the other side of the sea, they got a glimpse of the true identity of this one they followed. Only God had such power over nature. This storm became training ground for them to learn more of God’s power.

There are days when my boat feels like it is capsizing. I share the anxiety expressed by poet E. E. Cummings when he wrote, “King Christ, this world is all aleak; and lifepreservers there are none.” Those are the days I remind myself I don’t need a life preserver because Jesus is in the boat with me.

On a scale of one to ten, what is your response to storms of life, if one represents fear and ten represents faith?

Here’s a question for you: If you were there the day Jesus made the audacious claim, “The child is not dead but sleeping,” would you be among those who laughed at him, or among those who would get up and give her something to eat when her life returned? Both?

Earlier in Mark 5, Jairus, the girl’s father, went to find Jesus to plead with him to come and help his daughter, but Jesus was delayed and word came the daughter died. He had faith that Jesus could heal her, but now she was dead. All hope was gone. All faith was lost. She was not asleep. She was dead. The very presence of the mourners confirmed her demise. Then this man Jesus made the foolhardy statement that she is not dead, only sleeping. Laughable.

Granted, laughter is a natural response to something that sounds outlandish. Laughter was ninety-year-old Sarah’s response in Genesis 18:12 when God told her she would have a child in her old age. Her husband laughed as well when he received the same message. There was laughter of a different sort when their baby boy Isaac was born.

Back in the home of Jairus, Jesus touched the girl and she was no longer dead. He restored her to life. The laughter of unbelief surely turned to laughter of amazement in that place! Life needs nourishment, so Jesus commanded someone to give her something to eat. Oh, I hope I would be the one to jump up to get food to fill that girl’s belly, laughing joyfully all the way to the kitchen!

Have you ever responded with laughter at something the Lord has asked of you? Has your laughter of skepticism ever been turned to the laughter of amazement at something the Lord has done?