Our devotional prayer comes from Psalm 125:4:  

“Do good, O LORD, to those who are good, to the upright in heart.”

This short verse is a quiet prayer, not a boast or a demand—it’s a prayer, humble and sincere. 

We love the first part, “Do good, O Lord,” but the second part scares us, “to the upright in heart.” Most of us know that we are not perfect. It feels like we are not “upright in heart.” But who among is “upright in heart.” Moses committed murder, so did King David. Noah got drunk. Paul persecuted Christians. I’m not trying to call up failures of good people, but simply trying to remind you that you can be one of those good people. 

In this verse we read, “Upright in heart.” It is a phrase that speaks volumes. It tells us that righteousness isn’t just about behavior. It’s about the kind of heart we carry. God isn’t looking for perfect people—He’s looking for sincere ones. People who stumble, but who stumble forward, always trying to stay aligned with His will.

This verse was sung by the Hebrew worshipers as they ascended to Jerusalem. As they climbed the hill toward worship, they carried this prayer in their hearts.

“Do good, O LORD, to those who are good, to the upright in heart.”

I’m Lonnie Davis and these are thoughts worth thinking.

The quote for today is from King David’s prayer, found in Psalm 40:17.

“But I am poor and needy; may the Lord think of me. You are my helper and deliverer; O my God, do not delay.”

Now pause and think—this is David speaking. The same David who ruled a kingdom, who led armies, who penned psalms that echo through the ages. The same David who, according to First Chronicles 29, gave from his own treasure three thousand talents of gold for the house of God. That’s roughly a hundred tons of gold—worth billions by today’s standards.

How can a man so wealthy say, “I am poor and needy”?

Because David knew what true wealth was.

He understood that gold could be weighed, measured, and locked in vaults—but it could not calm a troubled heart. It could not forgive sin. It could not stand beside you in the valley of the shadow of death. Only God could do that.

“You are my helper and deliverer,” he said. David’s security wasn’t in his treasure; it was in his trust. His riches didn’t define him—his relationship with God did.

We’d be wise to learn from him. Whether your bank account is overflowing or barely breathing, whether your title carries weight or you’re still looking for one—what matters most is who you lean on when life grows heavy.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Our text for today is Psalms 31:16

“Make Your face shine on Your servant; save me by Your loving devotion.”

I love this prayer, “Make your face shine” upon me. When David asks God to make His face shine on him, he’s using language rooted in blessing. This echoes the priestly blessing from Numbers 6:25: “The LORD make His face shine upon you…” It speaks of favor, acceptance, and divine attention.

We all still feel that way. We want God to shine his face on us. I heard the story of a little five-year-old girl who was telling her mother a story. Mother was very busy, as mothers usually are. The mother continues to listen as she goes about her work. The little girl chides her mother, “Mom, I want you to listen.” As any good mother would do, she assures her little girl that she is listening. The little girls, responds with “I want you to listen with your eyes.”

Listen with your eyes is what David is asking God to do. He longed for God to listen, not with a part of His attention, but with His full attention on David. It gives us strength to know that we have a God who turns his face toward us.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Our devotional thought comes from Psalm 28:1.

“To You, O LORD, I call; be not silent to me. If You remain silent, I will be like those who descend to the Pit.”

There are moments in life when heaven feels like a closed door. You pray, and nothing stirs. You plead, and the skies remain still. David felt it too. He cried out to God, not in casual conversation, but in desperation. “Be not silent to me,” he pleads. He wasn’t just longing for comfort—he was longing for proof that he hadn’t been abandoned.

But here’s the truth David clung to: silence is not the same as absence. Just because God is quiet doesn’t mean He’s gone. Like a parent watching a child take their first steps, sometimes God steps back—not out of neglect, but out of trust. He’s still present. Still watching and still loving.

Faith that only sings when the sun is shining hasn’t learned to dance in the dark. But David’s faith teaches us this: we can keep calling, keep believing, even when the only reply is silence. That kind of faith is precious. It’s the faith that trusts God’s heart when we can’t trace His hand.

So if today feels quiet, don’t despair. The God who seemed silent in the tomb was already preparing resurrection.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

The Devotional Thought for Today: Psalm 19:14

“May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in Your sight, O LORD, my rock and my Redeemer.”

Some verses feel like a whisper we want to carry in our pocket all day. This is one of them. It’s not just a prayer—it’s a posture. David is opening both his mouth and his heart to God and saying, “Let what comes from me be pleasing to You.”

Think about that for a moment. Most of us are careful about our words when others are watching. We measure what we say. We try to be polite. But David goes deeper—he wants even his thoughts, those hidden meditations that never reach the ears of others, to be pleasing to the Lord.

That kind of prayer requires honesty. Because who among us hasn’t had bitter thoughts that never left our lips? Who hasn’t smiled politely while our hearts grumbled silently? David is asking God to shine His light on both arenas—what is heard and what is hidden.

If you’re like me, this hits right where it counts. It’s a reminder that God doesn’t just care about how we behave—He cares about who we’re becoming!

So today, take a moment before you speak. Take a moment before you stew in your thoughts. Whisper this prayer: “Lord, let this be pleasing to You.”

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

The Devotional Thought for Today: Psalm 17:6.

“I call on You, O God, for You will answer me. Incline Your ear to me; hear my words.”

Sometimes we don’t need a long prayer—we just need a real one. David’s words in this verse are short, but they run deep. He isn’t just speaking into the air. He believes Someone is truly listening. And not just anyone—he’s calling on God, the One who made the heavens, yet leans in close when His children speak.

“I call on You” reminds us that prayer is not about the right formula, but about the right focus. David isn’t looking around for help from people or power or plans. He’s calling on the One who has answered before and will answer again. There’s confidence here: “You will answer me.” Not “maybe.” Not “if You’re in the mood.” This is the voice of someone who has a history with God and carries the scars—and stories—of prayers answered in the past.

Then comes the beautiful image: “Incline Your ear to me.” Can you see it? David believes that God is bending down to listen. Like a father cupping his hand to hear his little boy. Like a mother turning from a noisy room to catch her daughter’s soft voice. That’s what God does when we pray. He leans in.

And David closes with a simple request: “hear my words.” He’s not performing. He’s not dressing up his prayer. He just wants to be heard.

And don’t we all? In a world of noise, silence, and busy hearts, one of our deepest need is to be heard. And David tells us God leans in when His children speak.

So today, don’t worry about the length of your prayer. Or the eloquence. Or if you’ve got it all together. Just speak. He’s listening.

I’m Lonnie Davis, and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Our devotional thought comes from Psalms 12:1.

“Help, O LORD, for the godly are no more; the faithful have vanished from among men.”

Look at the last words again, “The faithful have vanished from among men.” That is lonely.

If you’ve ever looked around and felt like the only one trying to do what’s right, you’re not alone. David felt it too. He cried out to God, not just because things were hard, but because it seemed like no one else cared about what was holy. “The faithful have vanished,” he wrote. That’s how it feels sometimes—like you’re the last light in a dark room.

Elijah knew that feeling well. After calling down fire from heaven, he ran into the wilderness and told God, “I am the only one left” (1 Kings 19:10). In his heart, the battle felt lost. But God reminded him—he wasn’t alone. There were still 7,000 who hadn’t bowed the knee to a false God. Elijah’s vision was clouded by fear and fatigue, but God’s reality was bigger than his feelings.

Noah was another who walked alone. While the world mocked, he built an ark. One plank at a time, he showed that faithfulness doesn’t need applause—it just needs obedience.

So when you feel like the last believer in the office, in your family, in your town—remember, you’re in good company. The faithful may feel few, but they are never forgotten. God always sees, always remembers, and always strengthens those who remain true.

“Help, O LORD, for the godly are no more; the faithful have vanished from among men.”

No they haven’t. And no they won’t.

I’m Lonnie Davis and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Our devotional thought comes from Psalms 12:1.

“Help, O LORD, for the godly are no more; the faithful have vanished from among men.”

Look at the last words again, “The faithful have vanished from among men.” That is lonely.

If you’ve ever looked around and felt like the only one trying to do what’s right, you’re not alone. David felt it too. He cried out to God, not just because things were hard, but because it seemed like no one else cared about what was holy. “The faithful have vanished,” he wrote. That’s how it feels sometimes—like you’re the last light in a dark room.

Elijah knew that feeling well. After calling down fire from heaven, he ran into the wilderness and told God, “I am the only one left” (1 Kings 19:10). In his heart, the battle felt lost. But God reminded him—he wasn’t alone. There were still 7,000 who hadn’t bowed the knee to a false God. Elijah’s vision was clouded by fear and fatigue, but God’s reality was bigger than his feelings.

Noah was another who walked alone. While the world mocked, he built an ark. One plank at a time, he showed that faithfulness doesn’t need applause—it just needs obedience.

So when you feel like the last believer in the office, in your family, in your town—remember, you’re in good company. The faithful may feel few, but they are never forgotten. God always sees, always remembers, and always strengthens those who remain true.

“Help, O LORD, for the godly are no more; the faithful have vanished from among men.”

No they haven’t. And no they won’t.

I’m Lonnie Davis and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Our devotional thought comes from Psalm 119:176.

“I have strayed like a lost sheep; seek Your servant, for I have not forgotten Your commandments.”

Isn’t it something that the longest chapter in the Bible ends not with a shout of victory, but with a whisper of need? After 175 verses celebrating God’s Word, the psalmist admits he’s wandered. Not rebelled. Not defied. Just drifted.

Like a sheep.

He doesn’t say he’s thrown away God’s commandments—he says he hasn’t forgotten them. That tells me something: you can love God’s truth and still lose your way. You can cherish His Word and still find yourself off the path.

But here’s the beautiful part—he doesn’t try to fix it himself. He doesn’t say, “I’ll find my way back.” No, he says, “Seek Your servant.” It’s a prayer for pursuit. A cry from the wilderness that trusts the Shepherd to come looking.

I wonder if you’ve ever felt like that—lost, yet still longing? Distant, but not defiant? This verse reminds us that the God who gave us His Word also gives us His grace. He is not waiting for us to be perfect. He is looking for the honest heart that says, “Lord, I’m yours—even when I wander.”

Let this be our prayer today: “Seek me, Lord. I’m still listening. I still believe. I just need You to find me.”

I’m Lonnie Davis and these are thoughts worth thinking.

Our prayer comes from Psalm 6:2.  

“Be merciful to me, O LORD, for I am frail; heal me, O LORD, for my bones are in agony.”

Pain has a voice. It doesn’t speak in polished prayers or pretty words. It groans. In this verse, David is groaning. The giant-slayer is now the bed-ridden. His bones ache. His spirit is worn. And yet, he turns to God—not away from God. That’s where the beauty begins.

Scripture is full of people like David. People who met God not on the mountain, but in the valley. Job lost everything, yet in the ashes, he said, “My ears had heard of You, but now my eyes have seen You.” (Job 42:5). Paul, burdened by a thorn he couldn’t remove, found grace that was sufficient and strength made perfect in weakness. Hannah, barren and broken, wept in the temple until her silent pain became a sacred offering.

There’s a holy pattern here: suffering becomes sacred when it drives us to the Savior.

David didn’t ask why—he asked Who. “Heal me, O LORD.” That’s the cry of a soul who believes God is still listening, even when life hurts.

Your pain may not make sense. Your prayers might come out in groans. But, you’re not alone. The same God who met David in his agony will meet you in yours. Sometimes, the place that hurts the most becomes the place where we hear Him best.

“Be merciful to me, O LORD, for I am frail.”

I’m Lonnie Davis and these are thoughts worth thinking.