If what a prophet proclaims in the name of the Lord does not take place or come true, that is a message the Lord has not spoken. That prophet has spoken presumptuously, so do not be alarmed.
Deuteronomy 18:22 (NIV)
It is New Year’s Eve day. It’s always a special day for Wendy and me as we celebrate our anniversary. This year marks 20 years, which makes it all the more special. There are many things I love about having our anniversary on New Year’s Eve. We always have the evening off, along with the rest of the world. I have never forgotten my anniversary. And, it’s already a fun day of celebration, so celebrating our marriage just adds another layer to the festivity.
On the day of our wedding, I remember feeling another apt connection with holiday. Old things pass away. New things come.
New Year’s by its nature causes a pause for reflection on what has been. It prompts a view toward the road ahead with a curiosity for the path forward and what lies ahead. There will be many prognosticators and prophets throughout media today making proclamations and predictions.
In a very similar fashion, the Hebrews in our chapter-a-day trek through Deuteronomy stand at a precipice in time. The wanderings are over. The promised land awaits on the other side of Jordan. Moses’ message in the entirety of Deuteronomy is a father’s heartfelt preparation for his children and grandchildren regarding what has been, and what is yet to come. Today’s chapter whispers wisdom for me on this precipice of time between 2025 and 2026.
The chapter begins with a reminder that the tribe of Levi will not inherit land once the dust settles in the promised land. No acreage. No deed. No security blanket tucked into a filing cabinet. “The Lord is their inheritance.”
It’s a strange economy, isn’t it?
Everyone else gets fields and vineyards. The priests get… presence.
Not everything valuable can be owned. Kingdom economics never promises deeds, dividends, or earthly security. Jesus asks me to forego earthly treasure and invest in valuables of an eternal kind . Some callings are intentionally unmoored. Some lives are meant to be lean so they can listen. As the year exhales its last breath, that question hovers: What have I been holding that was never meant to be possessed?
Then Moses turns, almost urgently, to forbidden shortcuts.
No divination.
No sorcery.
No necromancers knocking on the thin wall between worlds.
Why? Because uncertainty makes us desperate—and desperation makes us sloppy lovers of truth. When the future feels slippery, we reach for anything that promises control. The people are warned not against curiosity, but against counterfeit certainty. And counterfeit certainty comes cloaked in many guises.
Ouija boards.
Retirement funds.
Spreadsheets and infographics.
Fundamentalist rulebooks.
Charismatic leaders.
Preachers with prophesies.
Counterfeit certainty seduces me into believing I don’t need faith..
But, without faith, it is impossible to please God.
And here—oh here—is the heart of the chapter. Moses promises his Hebrew progeny that God will not leave them guessing.
“The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you… You must listen to him.”
This is not a vague spiritual shrug. It is intimacy offered. God knows their fear—that unmediated holiness once made them beg at Sinai, “Do not let God speak to us or we will die.” And so God leans closer, softer, clothed in flesh and voice and language they can bear.
The true prophet, Moses says, is not measured by charisma or confidence, but by fidelity. Does the word align with the character of God? Does it call people forward into faithfulness rather than sideways into fear? Does it come true—not because it was clever, but because it was obedient?
False prophets, by contrast, speak with urgency but no authority. They rush. They seduce. They promise control instead of covenant.
And that brings me back to New Year’s Eve. To the road forward and what awaits Wendy and me the 21st year of our marriage. What awaits this nation in the celebration of 250 years. What awaits our globe in the approximately 2026th journey around the sun since Jesus’ own earthly journey.
Moses wisdom whispers to my soul at this precipice of time.
Presence. Faith. Listening with discernment.
As the year turns its page, that distinction matters. Not every loud voice is a true one. Not every confident prediction deserves my trust. And not every silence means God has stopped speaking—sometimes it means He is waiting to be trusted.
Happy New Year, my friend! I am taking the holiday weekend off and then start 2026 with a week of business travel. I’ll be returning to this chapter-a-day trek on Jan 12.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
