Day 88

Deuteronomy 23–24 | John 16:16–33 | Psalm 37

There’s a saying in our house. It usually comes from Talacey—and it’s nearly always directed at me.

“I can’t meet expectations you haven’t clearly set.”

It’s her gentle way of reminding me that I have a tendency to assume she’s on the same wavelength.

That she should just know what I need—without me actually saying it out loud.

Which causes confusion.

Which causes conflict.

Which leads to drama.

Which brings us right back to that phrase.

And it’s why, in a strange way, I find comfort in clarity.

Because expectations left unspoken lead to tension.

But expectations clearly communicated? They bring peace.

And that’s what I saw in today’s reading—page after page of God being very, very clear.

A Holy God with a Set-Apart People

Deuteronomy 23 and 24 are full of specifics.

About purity in the camp.

About vows made and kept.

About loans, pledges, wages, marriage, justice for the poor.

It’s not vague. It’s not open to interpretation.

And for a modern reader, it can feel abrasive—maybe even outdated.

But what if it’s not?

What if this clarity is a kindness?

These laws weren’t given to restrict joy. They were written to protect dignity. To teach Israel what it looked like to live as a set-apart people—distinct in how they worshipped, how they treated the vulnerable, and how they honored their word.

“You shall not pervert the justice due to the sojourner or to the fatherless, or take a widow’s garment in pledge… You shall remember that you were a slave in Egypt.” (Deut. 24:17–18)

God wasn’t just shaping a nation. He was forming a people who would reflect His heart.

And that meant even their ordinary, Tuesday-afternoon decisions had to reflect holiness.

Mercy.

Integrity.

Justice.

When Rules Feel Rigid

Let’s be honest—most of us don’t love rules.

We like the freedom to decide. To adapt. To personalize.

But when God gives clear instruction, it’s not because He’s inflexible.

It’s because He sees what we can’t.

He knows how easily we exploit loopholes.

How quickly we justify selfishness.

How prone we are to forget who we are and Whose we are.

So He speaks with precision.

And in doing so, He reveals His kindness.

From the Mountain to the Upper Room

It’s not just the law that speaks with clarity. Jesus does too.

In John 16, He prepares His disciples for sorrow, for confusion, for a time they won’t understand.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament… You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy.” (v. 20)

“I have said these things to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (v. 33)

He doesn’t sugarcoat the road ahead.

He doesn’t offer vague encouragement or soft promises.

He tells the truth—with love.

That’s not cruelty.

That’s clarity with compassion.

That’s Jesus, being honest about suffering, and even more honest about what He’s already done to carry us through it.

Kindness in the Clarity

That’s the thread, across both testaments:

God doesn’t leave us to guess what’s right.

He doesn’t hide His expectations.

He doesn’t mumble commands or shift with the culture.

He speaks.

And His instruction is more than law—it’s love.

Don’t exploit your neighbor.

Keep your promises.

Pay fair wages.

Welcome the vulnerable.

Walk in purity.

Speak the truth.

Love mercy.

Take heart.

This is not a God who withholds. This is a Father who leads.

And His clarity?

It isn’t rigid.

It’s relational.

It’s meant to shape a people who live like they belong to Him.

Even When It’s Hard to Hear

There are days when I wish His commands were looser. Days I want to bend the line, excuse the attitude, or justify the delay.

But more often than not, I find—when God speaks clearly—it’s because He’s protecting something precious. Or prying something poisonous out of my grip.

And when He does, I remember:

“The steps of a man are established by the Lord, when he delights in His way.” (Psalm 37:23)

⸻

Lord, thank You for not leaving me to wander in moral fog. Help me see Your instruction not as cold law, but as a kind invitation—to live in step with Your heart. Give me courage to obey, even when it costs me something. And help me trust that when You speak clearly, it’s always for my good and Your glory. Amen.