Stiff-Necked, Still Chosen

December 16, 2025 Tom Vander Well 1 Comment

Understand, then, that it is not because of your righteousness that the Lord your God is giving you this good land to possess, for you are a stiff-necked people.
Deuteronomy 9:6 (NIV)

Yesterday’s post faded to black with me and Wendy sitting at the breakfast table naming our blessings and whispering after-meal blessing of gratitude. If I’m not careful, this chapter-a-day journey too easily compartmentalizes each chapter. While I love the rhythm of letting one chapter speak in to my day, I try not to forget that there is a flow to the text. Yesterday’s chapter and today’s chapter are connected.

Yesterday’s chapter and my meditations fit hand-in-glove with the Christmas season. My soft heart loves Christmas. Every day brings cards and photos of family and friends we don’t see often enough. With each one are fond memories and good feelings. Wendy and I have been watching beloved Christmas movies (yes, Die Hard is a Christmas movie) and feeling all the feels. Family gatherings are planned. I can feel the desire to be together, to name our blessings, and to feel the gratitude.

This is sentimental remembering. Warm feelings, meaningful memories, and full hearts that feed the positive emotional endorphins. That’s where I exited yesterday’s post.

Today’s chapter, however, channels a very different kind of remembering.

Moses stands at the Jordan River with this next generation of Hebrews gazing across at the Promised Land. They are about to cross over and take possession of it while Moses stays behind and takes his final earthly breath. They will take the land. They will be blessed. They will prosper. But, Moses tells them, there is a truth that needs to sink deep into their hearts before they set out. It is a truth so spiritually vital that Moses repeats it three times like Jesus asking Peter three times: “Do you love me?”

…do not say to yourself, “The Lord has brought me here to take possession of this land because of my righteousness.” (vs. 4)

It is not because of your righteousness or your integrity that you are going in to take possession of their land… (vs. 5)

Understand, then, that it is not because of your righteousness that the Lord your God is giving you this good land to possess, for you are a stiff-necked people. (vs. 6)

Moses then painfully and deliberately hits the rewind button:

Golden calf.
Stiff necks.
Tablets shattered like dropped china.
Tear-stained intercession that kept the nation from annihilation.

The message lands bare and unflattering:

You didn’t earn this.
You didn’t deserve this.
And you still don’t.

Which—oddly enough—is very good news.

This is what is known in Hebrew as zakhor—not memory as the emotional fog of sentimentality, but memory as moral restraint.

It is Cain remembering the stain of his own brother’s blood on his hands.

It is Abraham remembering the painful casting away of Hagar and his son Ishmael.

It is Israel remembering that he was a deceiver who stole his brother’s blessing.

It is Moses remembering his murder of an Egyptian overseer, fleeing for his life, and his years of living on the lam in Midian exile.

It is David remembering his adultery with Bathsheba, his murder of her husband, and the death of their first-born child.

It is Paul seeing the face of Stephen and all of the other believers he persecuted and had executed before he met Jesus on the road to Damascus.

It is me remembering my long list of moral failings. Failings that trace all the way back to being a five-year-old stealing all the envelopes of Christmas cash off of Grandma Golly’s Christmas tree and hiding them in my suitcase.

In the quiet this morning, sentimental twinkle-light memories get balanced with the sobriety of zakhor memories. Moral memory isn’t shame, it’s schooling. It’s not reproach, it’s reinforcement of reality.

All of this abundance of blessing that surrounds me each day? The blessing that is so abundant that I sometimes forget that’s it’s a blessing?

I didn’t earn this.
I didn’t deserve this.
And I still don’t.

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast.”

Moses is channeling the Gospel of Jesus 1500 years before Bethlehem.

As I soak in a little moral remembering this morning, I find my heart humbled. Like the Hebrews standing on the border of the Promised Land, I find myself chosen, called, and blessed – not because of who I am and what I’ve done but despite it.

Sometimes the fog of sentimental remembering lulls me into thinking that blessing is an entitlement. Moral remembering cuts through the fog and grounds me in the reality of His grace.

As Bob Dylan sings,
“like every sparrow fallen,
like every grain of sand.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Promotional graphic for Tom Vander Well's Wayfarer blog and podcast, featuring icons of various podcast platforms with a photo of Tom Vander Well. — These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!

Chapter-a-Day

The After-Meal Blessing

December 15, 2025 Tom Vander Well 1 Comment

When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you.
Deuteronomy 8:10 (NIV)

The first apartment I lived in during college was the upper level of an ancient house. There were roaches. A lot of roaches. Turn on a light at night and they would all scurry. Complaints fell on deaf ears. It was obvious that the landlord had given up trying to get rid of the pests. The deposit and first month’s rent took all the money on hand. The first week there was a loaf of bread and jar of peanut butter to get us through to pay day.

Every morning as Wendy and I gather for coffee, breakfast, and some quiet time we pray together. Quite often, those prayers include an extended time of gratitude. We don’t offer a simple, blanket “thank you.” We name our blessings. A wonderful home that is beyond anything I could have imagined when I was living in that Roach Motel. A pantry that is full. An unlooked for career that has blessed me on multiple levels. Loving family, children, grandchildren, intimate relationships, faithful friendships, and amazing community. Naming them and saying thank you for each and every one is a kind of spiritual chiropractic—small adjustments that realign the soul.

This regular exercise of gratitude brings our hearts into alignment. God has blessed us. I don’t ever want to get seduced into thinking that it’s all about what I’ve done, or what we’ve done. I don’t want to get spiritually lazy and forget the source of every breath, every day, and every blessing.

Many years ago I memorized Deuteronomy 8:10. It resonated deep within me. Here in Iowa, you grow up learning to appreciate the land. Iowa means “beautiful land,” and it is beautiful. It is also abundant with a perpetual harvest of life and blessing. But, there was something else that stirred as I meditated on the verse. Wendy and I love a good meal with good wine, good company, and good conversation that keeps you at the table for hours. There is a satisfaction of soul that I feel sitting at the table and experience the satisfaction of having both stomach and heart satiated. I began quietly quoting Deuteronomy 8:10 to myself as a post meal blessing.

I didn’t know it, but I had stumbled upon what Jewish tradition calls Birkat HaMazon. It means literally “blessing of the food,” but it’s the blessing after the meal, not before. Most prayers are uttered in emptiness and need, this prayer flows out of satisfaction. It’s not a prayer for when I’m empty, but when I’m full. And goodness, is my life full.

The Birkat HaMazon is a blessing like a loaf of bread broken into four pieces.

For Sustenance.
I have eaten because God is generous, not because I’m deserving.

For Land.
Not just food, but place. History. Inheritance. Story. In this Jewish prayer I see a reflection of Jesus. He is the Alpha-point from which everything in creation flows in Genesis. He is the Omega-point to which everything in creation will return in Revelation. Everything I seemingly have and possess, is gift not entitlement. Prosperity is entrusted, not earned outright. To bless the land is my confession: “I didn’t build the ground beneath my feet.”

For Jerusalem.
This is the part of the blessing that aches. It remembers loss even in abundance. Even at a full table, Jewish prayer makes space for longing—for justice unfinished, peace incomplete, restoration still coming. It refuses to give in to the illusion that comfort equals completion. Along my life journey, I’ve learned that holy ache keeps the heart supple.

For God’s Goodness.
The blessing’s final movement gathers everything and says, in essence: “God, you are good. You always have been. You always will be.”

Not because the meal was perfect. Not because life is tidy. But because God’s character is rock steady. Even when we are faithless, God remains faithful. It’s who He is, and He can’t be anything but who He is.

Once again, I find myself in the quiet this morning wishing I could bathe in the text. There is so much wisdom in Moses’ reflection. He remembered the manna. His people didn’t complain the loudest when they were starving. Their complaints hit the highest decibel level when God’s provision of manna became predictable.

Today’s chapter is a reminder of a roach filled apartment and week-long diet of peanut butter toast and peanut butter sandwiches. Looking back, that season wasn’t punishment, it was spiritual formation. In a few moments I will head downstairs for breakfast with Wendy. I will take her hand and we will name our blessings. We will enjoy breakfast. We will solve the problems of the world in about a half-hour. Then we will get up to start our day.

But before I do, I will thank the Lord our God for the good land He has given us.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

What’s In a Name?

December 12, 2025 Tom Vander Well Leave a comment

https://open.spotify.com/episode/2i8w5uaaSLZsRs8CbW2Se6?si=ZxNL_HKBSDi-2kWPF65_Yw

For you are a people holy to the Lord your God. The Lord your God has chosen you out of all the peoples on the face of the earth to be his people, his treasured possession.
Deuteronomy 7:6 (NIV)

One of the things I love about living in a small town is being known. I love walking into a restaurant, a coffee shop, or the pub and being greeted by name. I suppose some people like to be anonymous, but research consistently shows that most of us truly want to know and be known. And the beginning of that relational journey is simply knowing one another by name.

The subject of names has been surfacing a lot in my conversations of late. My local gathering of Jesus’ followers is working on a short-term initiative intended to help people learn one another’s names. I just read a fantastic article about the neuroscience that proves just how powerful using a person’s name truly is. I talk about it in business all of the time as I deliver customer service training.

One of the things that I have learned about name-use over the years is that the deeper and more intimate the relationship the more likely we are to create nicknames and pet names for one another. Conversely, as relationships break down and marriages move toward divorce we stop using one another’s names and revert to using pronouns or impersonal descriptors like “my children’s mother.” Wendy is “my treasure.” From the very beginning of our relationship, it’s been a special moniker that is hers and only hers. Between the two of us it is a sign of affection, devotion, honor, and fidelity.

Today’s chapter is one of those chapters that is misunderstood in modern cultural context. It’s a love letter disguised as a battle plan. God reminds Israel that their chosenness isn’t about muscle or merit, but about affection and fidelity. They are to enter the land clear-eyed and clear-hearted—no half-measures, no flirtations with rival gods. Destruction of idols isn’t cruelty; it’s fidelity therapy.

God promises protection, fruitfulness, and flourishing—not as wages earned, but as the natural overflow of covenant intimacy. Obedience here is not stiff-backed compliance; it’s trust leaning its full weight into the arms of a faithful Lover.

In Jewish tradition, Deuteronomy 7 is foundational for the concept of segulah—Israel as God’s treasured possession (v.6). This chosenness is not superiority; it is purpose and calling. Israel is set apart for something: to bear God’s name and reveal Him and His character in the world.

This covenant love is a foreshadowing of Jesus, who loved the world so much that He left heaven behind and became one of us. He treasured us so much that He suffered and died to pay the penalty for our sin. Then He called us to bear witness of God’s Kingdom through our love of Him and others.

The contrast could not be clearer.

The world chooses powerful.
God prefers the weak.
The world finds security in big numbers.
God prefers faith in a few.
The world indulges in surface sensual appetites.
God prescribes deep, exclusive and intimate relationship.
The world values self-centered personal ambition.
God values faithfully putting others ahead of ourselves.

In both today’s chapter and Jesus’ example, it is God who loves first. It is God who makes the covenant. It is God who promises fidelity, provision, protection, and blessing. We are the object of His love and affection.

We are His treasure.

He whispers, “My life for yours.”

When God speaks of loving His people in verses 7 and 8, the Hebrew word is ‘ahav. It is not a giddy infatuation, it’s a choice and a volitional act. In verse 9 God’s ‘ahav blesses a thousand generations of those who ‘ahav Him. God’s love invites reciprocity. Not because it needs it, but because it awakens it. And notice: God’s covenant loyalty flows toward those who love him—not as payment, but as shared intimacy.

This is mutual devotion, not transactional obedience.

In the quiet this morning, I’m reminded that God says that those who choose to follow have their names written in the Book of Life. My name is there. God knows my name. But today’s chapter reminds me that my name being written in the Book of Life is far more than just a “Hello My Name Is” name tag knowledge. That’s just the record like Wendy’s and my marriage certificate in the safe downstairs. I am God’s “treasure.” He gave His life that I might live. That kind of love awakens love in me.

Less Hallmark card, more keeping marriage vows at 3 a.m.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

The Story We Tell With Our Lives

December 11, 2025 Tom Vander Well Leave a comment

Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.
Deuteronomy 6:4-5 (NIV)

As my family’s unofficial historian and pastor, I’ve become a repository for old family bibles.

“What should we going to do with great-grandma’s bible? Anyone want it?”

“Nah! Give it to Tom.”

Yes, I will take it. The first thing I will do is look to see what it contains besides the pages and the printed text. When a Bible is well-used it collects things. Ephemera of all kinds gets stuffed in the pages. It’s fascinating what people choose to keep. Handwritten notes are often found scribbled in the margins. It can be a window into an ancestor’s head and heart.

In my Bible there is a photograph. I don’t even remember putting it there. I think it randomly surfaced and I just shoved it inside the cover of my bible because it was convenient in the moment. It’s still there years later. The photograph is of my daughters and me at the breakfast table. They are about eight or nine years old and are eating their breakfast. I’m sitting there right where they found me when they got up, bible open. I’ve been doing this early morning meditation thing for a long time.

Today, our grandson Milo celebrates his eighth birthday. A generation has come and gone since that photograph in my bible was taken. When Milo comes to visit, his room is across the hall from my home office. Like me when I was his age, Milo is a morning person. So, amidst my quiet time I will hear the pocket door to my office slowly slide open and Milo will slide up on Papa’s lap. Just like my daughters used to do.

I could sit in today’s chapter for a long, long time. It is Moses at his most intimate and loving as a patriarch of his people. Remember, Deuteronomy is Moses’ final deathbed message. Today’s chapter is a loving father and grandfather’s heart fully open and on display.

Moses begins with what is known as the Shema in Jewish tradition. Shema means “hear” in Hebrew. This verse is recited morning and evening. It’s sung, whispered, shouted, taught to children as soon as they can speak. It’s what Jesus referenced as the greatest commandment. Love God with all your heart, soul, (Jesus added mind) and strength. God is one – not just a monotheism – but the unifying center of reality. Nothing exists outside of His oneness.

Moses begins with the Shema — the heartbeat of Israel. Then, like every wise elder, he moves from proclamation to formation – from hearing to teaching. Moses tells every Hebrew to share their family’s story with every child: Slavery, God’s deliverance, the miracles, the mess in the wilderness, God’s faithful provision, and the gracious promise and prosperity of the Promised Land.

“Tell them the Story,” Moses urges his children, “So they can trust the Story.”

Later in his message, Moses urges his children to action: “Do what is right and good in the Lord’s sight, so that it may go well with you…”

James echoes this same sentiment in his letter to Jesus’ followers:

“Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.”
James 1:22 (NIV)

As I meditated on these things in the quiet this morning, I found myself focused on two intertwined thoughts.

First, the Hebrew word for “heart” intimates far more than just emotion. It is the wholeness of my inner self. It is the union of mind, will, and desire. To love God with my “heart” is to let Him sit enthroned on my decision-making center.

Second, I recognized that there is a flow to what Moses commands. The words can’t get from the ear to heart or hand – nor can they can’t be shared with the mouth – without passing through the mind. Perhaps that’s why our Lord added “mind” to the Shema.

Ear —> Head —> Heart —> Mouth/Hands/Feet

Along my life journey, I’ve observed individuals for whom the word has completely by-passed the heart. They hear the word. It enters the brain as plain text, rules, and religious commands. The hands might obey in legalistic fashion. The mouth regurgitates the text in heartless, rote, religious obedience.

But there’s no heart in it.

The words aren’t just laws, commands, and decrees. When channeled through grateful and believing hearts they’re paths to life, abundance, and longevity in all that God is providing in the future to which He is leading.

Here in the quiet, I find myself staring back at the photo of me at the table with my young daughters, my bible open to whatever chapter I was meditating on in the quiet that morning. I find myself looking forward to the next few weeks and the next time Milo slides open the pocket door of my office and staggers in on my lap, my bible open to whatever chapter of Deuteronomy we’ll be on that day. I look forward to sharing the Story in whatever way flows in our conversation.

My mornings in the quiet, this chapter-a-day trek, isn’t religious obedience. It’s my heartbeat. It’s my spirit breathing. It’s nourishment for my soul that fuels my day. It’s my personal embodiment of the heart of the Shema.

And so, I will tuck the photo back in my bible along with the other ephemera that I’ve mindlessly collected over the years. Perhaps one day a great-grandchild or great-great grandchild will inherit it. Perhaps it will whisper to a future generation about the pattern God established through Moses:

Hear the Story. Trust the Story. Tell the Story.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Ten Words

December 5, 2025 Tom Vander Well Leave a comment

“Oh, that their hearts would be inclined to fear me and keep all my commands always, so that it might go well with them and their children forever!”
Deuteronomy 5:29 (NIV)

The bedroom is absolutely quiet but for the softness of the deep breaths of fresh slumber. All is dark but for the warm glow of the nightlight near the door. I lay stretched out on the mattress and feel the warmth of my grandchild’s little body cuddled up next to mine.

This has become one of my favorite moments in life. I am happy to lay here long after the wee one has slipped into sweet dreams. Sometimes, I choose to stay until I follow them into the land of nod. In the meantime, my soul bathes in the holiness of the moment. I consider their tender young lives and the long journey ahead of them. I pray over their parents. I pray over them. Prayers of blessing, of protection, and guidance – bedtime transformed into Papa’s quiet vigil over this precious little life that I love so much.

In today’s chapter, Moses continues his final words to the next generation of his loved ones. He takes them back to the basics. In our English translation and Christian tradition we call them the Ten Commandments. In so many minds they have become nothing more than laws. Rules. Black-and-white demands of obedience. For many they are a symbol of a tyrannical God eager to punish.

As I read and shema (e.g. really listen) to the chapter, that’s not what I see and hear at all.

In Jewish tradition it’s called “the decalogue” or “ten words.” They’re not commands. In fact, rabbis speak of it being one ineffable sound of the divine from which Moses drew the ten words. What’s more, the context is not one of a tyrannical power monger but the intimate marriage vows of a lover.

God, who initiated the relationship.
God, who made a covenant with us, not the other way around.
God, who delivered us from slavery and chains.
God, with us – not our ancestors – with us here and now.
God, who amidst the chapter lays his heart bare:

“Oh, that their hearts would be inclined to fear me and keep all my commands always, so that it might go well with them and their children forever!”

The Hebrew word for “keep” is shamar. English flattens it into simple obedience. English has a way of forcing meaning into a box that can never contain it. This is a great example. Shamar is a whole-body verb—warm, protective, attentive, deeply relational. It is the Shepherd watching over his flock by night. It is a gardener guarding her precious plants from every threat. It is tending something fragile so it survives.

The root imagery of the word comes from watchmen on the walls of the city in the darkness of night, heart steady, every sense attentive. Not policing, but protecting because what they are guarding is precious.

Suddenly, my life-long perception of ten black-and-white “commands” is laid bare for the hollow and meager interpretive shell it has always been. The ears of my heart begin to shema the intimate heart’s desire that God groaned in one ineffable utterance, from which Moses teased ten words:

I am in love with you. I have proposed to you. I have delivered you.
I desire your love and devotion.
I desire to experience your honor and respect.
I desire regular rest with you, to stop and just be together.
I desire family to be a perpetual place of life, love, and security.
I desire that life, faithfulness, and truth be the core of who we are.
I desire contentment, because if we have each other – it’s always enough.

Which brings me back to the warm glow of the nightlight in the darkness. The soft repetition of a toddlers respiration as I feel the rise and fall of that little chest pressed up against me. Papa, the night watchman guarding over this precious little life. I lie there in the holiness of the moment feeling a love I can’t even describe. I think I’ll just lie here a while longer and shamar.

It’s taken nearly sixty years, Lord. I think I’m finally starting to get it.

Wendy and I celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary this New Year’s Eve. We’re leaving today for an early anniversary weekend getaway. As I read through my paraphrase of the ten words, it’s a good description of what I’m looking forward to savoring with m’luv.

Which means, I’m taking a few days sabbath from our chapter-a-day journey. See you next Thursday.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Final Message

December 4, 2025 Tom Vander Well Leave a comment

Now, Israel, hear the decrees and laws I am about to teach you.
Deuteronomy 4:1 (NIV)

There is a seriousness about Life that takes stage whenever Death is standing in the wings. I’ve experienced in hospitals and the rooms of hospice. I’ve observed it in homes where families tend to their loved one’s final days. The seriousness can take many different forms, but I find that they are always holy moments.

I find it important as I meditate on the chapters of Deuteronomy to remember that this entire book is one of those holy moments. Death is standing on the banks of the Jordan River in wait for Moses. Moses is ancient. His body is decimated with age. His face is lined with the stress of decades of leadership. Deuteronomy is Moses taking the face of his people lovingly in his withered hands and looking them in the eye one last time. These are the words of his deathbed.

“Listen,” he is whispering with final breath earnestness. “No. Really listen to me.”

When Moses uses the word “hear” it is the Hebrew word shema. It is more than auditory reception. Shema is listening with your heart as well as your ears. It’s hearing channeled into action. It is listening that love transforms into obedience. It’s the same Jesus asked whenever He said, “Those who have ears to really hear, hear this….”

Suddenly, the words of today’s chapter have another layer of meaning. They are the love-filled plea of the man who has given everything to lead his people. I don’t just want to read the words. I want to shema what Moses is communicating in this holy moment as I see Death standing in the background along Jordan’s shore.

Guard the appetites of your heart. Moses begins with a plea to his people to guard their hearts. They serve a living God. They’ve seen what He can do. They’ve heard His voice though they saw no form. There is no form that can adequately represent His being. So don’t fashion idols for yourselves and bow down to animals, or people, or the sun. Don’t give your love and devotion to things that can never love you back.

Be ever aware of God’s nearness. God is with them. He’s pitched His tent in the center of their camp. He goes before them. He goes with them. He is not god up above somewhere. God is always right here, right now.

Remember. Remember. Remember. Moses repeats the word over and over again.

Remember the fire on the mountain.
Remember the voice with no form.
Remember the covenant.
Remember who rescued you.
Remember who claimed you.

Memory is a mentor. The moment you begin to forget you are one step closer towards being lost. Then Moses prophetically foresees that his children, whom he knows all too well, will indeed lose their way.

Home awaits every prodigal. He wraps up his message by reminding them that no matter how far they wander, no matter how badly they lose their way, God is waiting. He’s not waiting with crossed arms but arms that are open. It doesn’t matter what distant pig stye they find themselves mired in. If they, like the prodigal, will seek Him with all their heart they will find Father God there on the porch at home with his eyes glued to the driveway. He just waiting to welcome the prodigal home and celebrate His lost child’s return.

I feel a weight in my meditations in the quiet of my home office this morning. Placing my feet in the sandals of a child of Israel standing along the Jordan River listening to Moses’ heartfelt final plea gives the words added potency. Suddenly the message is more meaningful. Life suddenly gets more serious whenever Death is near.

The neighbor’s diesel pick-up truck has begun to idle across the street. It’s my daily reminder that it’s time to move out of the quiet and into all that awaits me on the calendar and task list of the day. Thankfully, I’m unaware of Death being anywhere nearby today. Nevertheless, I head out with the heart of Moses’ message informing how I want to go about whatever awaits me.

Have a great day, my friend.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Facing the Giants

December 3, 2025 Tom Vander Well Leave a comment

https://open.spotify.com/episode/2VuqEKIwF9JyVkiev4BUvQ?si=ZJUTmhrlQzat9jw6cwvspA

(Og king of Bashan was the last of the Rephaites. His bed was decorated with iron and was more than nine cubits long and four cubits wide. It is still in Rabbah of the Ammonites.)
Deuteronomy 3:11 (NIV)

In the 20 years of this chapter-a-day blogging journey, my choice of which book we trek through has been typically haphazard. I don’t give it much thought, to be honest. As a right-brained creative, I tend to eschew straight lines and blueprints and embrace adventure of the unexpected. That said, I don’t think our current trek through Deuteronomy is coincidental. As we finished the book of Hebrews last week I heard the Spirit’s whisper in my soul. I need this.

This past year has been a season of transition for me. It’s still in process. We’ve come a long way, but we’re certainly not settled in the Promised Land. There are tasks and obstacles to be faced. Just yesterday I shared with Wendy how overwhelming it sometimes feels. Scary even. Like facing a giant.

This is a feeling with which Moses is very familiar.

Before there was Goliath there was Og, King of Bashan.

As Moses leads the next generation of Hebrew tribes to the Promised Land there are two major enemies standing in the way. The first one was Sihon, king of Heshbon who was rather easily defeated in yesterday’s chapter. The second enemy is a different story. For Moses and the Hebrews, Og, King of Bashan was their Goliath.

The text calls Og the last of the Rephaim. The Rephaim are a mysterious ancient people known for their unusual size. Archaeology has unearthed remains of ancient tribes with warriors who ranged from 6’8” to 7’2”. Today’s chapter records a parenthetical mention of Og’s iron bed which was 13 feet long. Og and the Rephaim were giants. and if I’m an ancient Hebrew whose average height ranged between 5’3” to 5’5” I imagine my knees would be knocking a bit at the prospect of that battle.

Beyond Og’s sheer size, he ruled over numerous fortified cities. He had a formidable army and a super-sized reputation. This was not an easy task that lay before Moses and the Hebrews. They had every reason to feel overwhelmed. Jewish commentators note that the first thing God says to Moses as the armies line up for battle is, “Do not be afraid.” This hints that even Moses who has miraculously and successfully led the Hebrews out of slavery and through the wilderness was even feeling overwhelmed by fear in that moment. Even great leaders quake.

Courage is not fearlessness but moving forward in spite of trembling knees.

The previous generation of Hebrews refused to enter the Promised Land out of fear of the “giants” who inhabited the land. Isn’t it interesting that God leads Moses and this next generation up against a giant before they even reach the Promised Land. It’s almost as if God is ensuring that there won’t be a repeat of last time. If His people experience victory over the giants outside the Promised Land, they won’t fear rumors of giants inside of it.

The Hebrews are successful. Og is defeated along with all his cities. His 13-foot iron bed becomes a museum piece for travelers passing through Rabbah of the Ammonites. The next generation of Hebrews experience a huge boost of faith in God’s promises.

In the quiet this morning, I find a much needed reminder for the waypoint on life’s road where I find myself. There are moments for all of us when we’re facing our own giants. Sometimes they are just rumors. Sometimes they are very, very real. In either case, God’s message never changes. It’s the same as He said to Moses.

“Don’t be afraid. I’ve got this. Trust me. Take courage. Move forward.”

And so, even with knees knocking in my spirit and despite the nagging feelings of being overwhelmed, I move forward into this another day.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

A Season to Wait, A Moment to Move

December 2, 2025 Tom Vander Well 1 Comment

https://open.spotify.com/episode/0XyeWbnBRUl0nN2Hcw2nSm?si=i30A5mFzRluIuJRy3Luy6g

Then the Lord said to me, “You have made your way around this hill country long enough; now turn north.”
Deuteronomy 2:2-3 (NIV)

My company does a lot of customer research. It’s the core of what Intelligentics does. Just this week I’m working on four different customer research projects for clients. Over 30-plus years, it’s been fascinating to have observed how customer expectations have changed. Because of technology and stark generational differences the consumer landscape is changing at a brisk clip. Businesses are wise to invest in listening to their customers.

What has been growing as a key driver of customer expectation and satisfaction are time-related dimensions of service. We have become used to having a world of information at our fingertips. From a consumer perspective, we can do almost anything instantly on the phone in our hand at any time wherever we happen to be. The result? We are an increasingly impatient people. I see it every day in the data our customer research produces.

The impact of these changes is not just on business. It’s impacting life and relationships. It’s having a spiritual impact, as well.

Ever since I surrendered and committed my life to Jesus as a teenager, I have trekked this earthly journey as a faith journey. I am ever seeking the purpose God has for me and the Story He is authoring in it. In doing so, I have learned three important spiritual truths:

Timing is everything.
Waiting is hard.
God’s timing is perfect.

In today’s chapter, Moses continues sharing memories as mentorship to a new generation of Hebrew tribes preparing to enter the Promised Land. On the surface, the text feels a bit stale and boring. When I step back, however, and look at the Story that is being unpacked, it’s rich with these spiritual truths.

He tells of their 38 years of wandering.
Then God says, “It’s time. Turn north. Move.”
There command to move comes with instructions:
Don’t provoke Edom, Moab, or Ammon (they are family, even if estranged). God’s promise comes with boundaries.

Then comes the pivotal pivot:
It’s time to cross the Arnon Gorge—and now, now, God says, “Rise up. I have given Sihon king of Heshbon into your hands.” The battle begins, the land opens, and Israel steps into a season of forward motion after almost four decades of waiting.

Today’s chapter is about restraint, timing, and finally stepping into what God has purposed, planned, and prepared.

Which brings me back to our current world. I tap a screen and groceries appear. Click early enough in the day and the package will be on my porch before dinner. It’s no wonder we expect instant gratification. Technology has so successfully met this desire in so many areas of our lives that its increasingly driving expectation in every aspect of our lives.

How is this going to affect my faith journey? Spiritual formation and spiritual maturity take time. There are no short-cuts. There’s no pharmaceutical for instant wisdom. There is a discipline of Spirit that one learns as you ask, seek, and knock through seasons of waiting and wilderness wanderings. There is a form of obedience that requires restraint rather than action. There is an attentiveness required to be able to respond when the moment finally arrives.

“Turn north. Time to move.”

In the quiet this morning, I find myself reflecting on the many different seasons of waiting I have endured along this faith journey. Memory is a mentor. I’m also meditating on God’s call on me to move into a new season of life right now and all the feelings that stirs in my spirit after so many years of waiting. Finally, I find myself praying for my children and grandchildren, these next generations. I pray God’s grace to embrace the waiting in a world that is increasingly unwilling to do so.

And so, as the new day dawns, I ask for grace to wait well…
and courage to turn north when He whispers, “Now.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Book Summary List, Chapter-a-Day

Deuteronomy (Dec 2025 – Jan 2026)

December 1, 2025 Tom Vander Well 1 Comment

Each photo below corresponds to a chapter-a-day post for the book of Deuteronomy published by Tom Vander Well in January 2025 and January 2026. Click on the photo linked to each chapter to read the post.

Chapter-a-Day

An 11-Day Trip in 40-Years

December 1, 2025 Tom Vander Well 1 Comment

(It takes eleven days to go from Horeb to Kadesh Barnea by the Mount Seir road.)
Deuteronomy 1:2 (NIV)

In the fall of 2003, I made a trip to Israel with my boss and long-time mentor. It was never meant to be a simple vacation. Chuck, who founded our business along with his late wife, Charleen, was planning to retire from the business at the end of 2004. My colleague Scott and I would be taking it over. Chuck had discipled both Scott and me as young men in high school and college. We’d journeyed together in life and business for many years, and the transfer of the business that Chuck and Charleen founded was a major milestone. Chuck wanted to go to Israel, to share the experience together, and to pray over the next phase of our shared journey.

I have many fond memories of that trip. In particular, I remember sitting atop Mount Arbel on the north west of the Sea of Galilee. When Jesus went up on a mountain to pray, I have to believe Mount Arbel was at least one of the places. It affords a panoramic view of the Sea of Galilee.

From the top of Mount Arbel you can see fields white unto harvest, Capernaum, and the fishing villages that dot the Galilee shore. In the distance is the Decapolis region where so much of Jesus ‘ministry unfolded. Standing on top of Arbel would have been like a strategy session for Jesus and His ministry. It was on top of Arbel that Chuck, Scott, and I spent an extended time of prayer for the business, for where God would lead us.

Today we begin the book of Deuteronomy. It is the last of the five books of Moses, known also as the Torah, or what Jews refer to as “The Law.” The word Deuteronomy means “second telling.” It’s a repeat of the story thus far since the book of Exodus, which for modern readers is a bit of a head scratcher. Especially those poor souls who made their New Year’s resolution to read through the Bible cover-to-cover and have already slogged through Leviticus and Numbers.

“What!? The same thing all over again? Are you kidding me?!”

I suspect no small number of New Year’s Bible-reading resolutions die somewhere in early Deuteronomy. But, context is everything. Sometimes, those stories your grandparents bored you with as a child take on new meaning forty years later in life when you have grandchildren of your own.

As Deuteronomy opens, Moses and the Hebrew tribes are standing on the shore of the River Jordan in the land of Moab. Across the Jordan is the Promised Land. They have been here before, but that was 40 years ago. The people to whom Moses is speaking are not the same Hebrews who stood here then. This is a new generation. Some were babies and little children. Many had not been born. God has brought them here to claim the very promise their parents and grandparents once stood poised to inherit. Moses is retiring. He will not go with them. Joshua is taking over leadership of the company.

For the young Hebrews looking at the sun sparkle off the water of the Jordan River and gazing at the land beyond, the Story is not a boring rehash. It’s memory as mentorship. This is Moses saying, “I love you enough to tell the truth about where we’ve been… so you do not repeat it.”

Jewish sages see this passage as a parental moment. A loving father preparing his children for spreading their wings and taking flight on their own. And one of the main themes in the retelling is how fear short-circuits faith and destiny. They’d been right here 40 years ago. But, their parents and grandparents were afraid. They were afraid because fear choked out the courage to follow God into the land He promised. Even though God had delivered them from Egypt, had miraculously appeared on the mountain and given the Law, had miraculously led them every step of the way with a pillar of fire by night and a pillar of cloud by day as guides.

At the very beginning of the chapter, Moses adds a parenthetical that stands out like a sore thumb in the text. It doesn’t fit in the flow:

(It takes eleven days to go from Horeb to Kadesh Barnea by the Mount Seir road.)

Moses is making a cheeky point. What could and should have been an eleven day trip has taken them 40 years to bring them to this place in this moment — because they were afraid to follow God into the Promised Land. Forty years in the wilderness was not so much punishment as it was spiritual formation. Along my journey I’ve learned that God does not just pass students onto the next grade if they haven’t learned the required lessons. Some souls spend their entire earthly lives repeating spiritual Kindergarten, never quite trusting the Teacher enough to move on.

I suppose that’s why my thoughts drift back to Mount Arbel—memory as mentorship, then and now. In the quiet this morning, I feel the wind whipping across the top of Mount Arbel. I stare out across the Sea of Galilee out of which flows the Jordan River. I remember Chuck, Scott, and I praying about our own moment of transition.

Will I have faith to step into God’s promise, or will I flee in fear?

“Do not be afraid,” Moses said to them. This phrase will be used more in the book of Deuteronomy than any other book in the Great Story. It is a father, a mentor lovingly urging those he’s loved and raised to embrace faith over their fears, to learn the lessons of the past, and to step into the promises God has spoken over their future.

What a great reminder as I step into another week, as I step into the final month of 2025, and as I stand on the precipice of a new year in which I will begin the seventh decade of my earthly journey. I don’t think this trek through Deuteronomy will be mindless repetition. I think it holds spiritual truths that will be essential for the road ahead.

So I lace ’em up again—heart steady, spirit willing. Here we go. I hope you’ll join me on the journey.

Have a great day, my friend.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Wayfarer

Monthly Archives: December 2025

Stiff-Necked, Still Chosen

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The After-Meal Blessing

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What’s In a Name?

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The Story We Tell With Our Lives

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Ten Words

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Final Message

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Facing the Giants

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A Season to Wait, A Moment to Move

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Deuteronomy (Dec 2025 – Jan 2026)

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An 11-Day Trip in 40-Years

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Just another wayfarer on life's journey, headed for Home. I'm carrying The Message, and I'm definitely waiting for Guffman.

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Just another wayfarer on life's journey, headed for Home. I'm carrying The Message, and I'm definitely waiting for Guffman.