Transcript
A (0:00)
Foreign.
B (0:05)
Good Saturday to you. Sower Nation it is. What is the date today? It's January 24th in the year of our Lord 2026. I'm John David Walt, and this is your wake up call. Why do I do this every day? Why am I so focused on what day it is? Because every day matters. I'm not wanting to put pressure on you. I'm wanting to say, wake up and realize that this is the day that the Lord has made. And it. It's not coming back. And every day it's like, if you can sow one seed today, one just like one seed, that's a day in the future when something's rumbling under the ground and then coming up through the soil and growing. And, you know, not all seeds make it. In fact, most don't make it. But that's not the point. The point is that some do. And this is what we're doing here. We're sowing. We're sowing the goodness, the love, the joy, the compassion, the care of Jesus. He's coming to you and through you to another person. Always. Every single day, every single encounter. Possibly. That's what being awake is about. So, yeah, that's why I do it. It's Saturday. It's another sewing day and got some goodness. Dad's with me. Today. We're going to be singing. And let's not skip consecration as I've done lately, but let's begin there. Wake up, sleeper. Yeah. Rise from the dead and Christ will shine on you. Jesus, I belong to you. I lift up my heart to you. I set my mind on you. I fix my eyes on you. I offer my body to you as a living sacrifice. Jesus, we belong to you. And we're praying in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. All right, we're in the house now. The store is open. It's time for revelation and response. That's the recipe for transformation. Let's just turn our eyes upon Jesus. Now. Today's entry is entitled on the Houses that Build Us. And our text is chapter 24 of Proverbs. I want you to read that whole chapter. Listen to it. Read it. It's full of wisdom. We're going to zero in on verses three and four. Hear now the Word of the Lord. By wisdom a house is built. And through understanding, it is established through knowledge. Its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures. The Word of the Lord. Now consider this. Today's text took me straight to the home of my grandparents. 305 South Adams. I was blessed to grow up in a multigenerational farming family who all lived in the same small town, Dumas, Arkansas. I lived less than a mile from my grandparents, whom I affectionately called Meemaw and Pipaw. One of the great gifts of my choice. Well, I wonder what you called your grandparents. What do your grandchildren call you? One of the great gifts of my childhood was growing up in and around Memaw and Pipaw's house. It was a house built by Wisdom. Though they could have afforded a much larger home, they enjoyed the simplicity of living smaller. The house of three bedrooms and three baths couldn't have been more than a couple of thousand couple of thousand square feet. Probably less than that. There was the boys room where my dad and Uncle Martin grew up. Me, mom, Peepaw's room, a guest room, a den, a formal living room, a dining room and a breakfast room. All seven rooms knew their purpose well and served the family for decades with profound consistency. I remember not a single remodeling project. They never upgraded the appliances. Everything had its place and it all worked together with a style and beauty that had everyday functionality. They established this house with the collective understanding of the generations of wisdom it takes to make a home. You heard the text. By Wisdom, a house is built and through understanding it is established through knowledge. Its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures. Now then there were the rare and beautiful treasures. I remember the ornately crafted headboard with the four tree like posts that made up Memaw and Pipaw's own double bed. Okay, I sleep by myself in a king size bed and Meemaw and Pipaw slept in a double bed all those years. Then there was that one of its kind, hall tree with the rust flecked mirror in the middle and all those tree like branches on which Pipa's curated collection of cowboy hats and fedoras hung. Pipaw had no hair, he always wore a hat. And the marble tabletop that served as the garrison for the umbrellas and walking canes which doubled as mine and Lee's swords. The things they bought for that home, while probably not expensive, held exquisite value. Then there was the boys room with those dressers still holding the treasures of the son's growing up years. Pocket knives and money clips, Air Force stripes from their uniforms and shotgun shell. Their lives. My dad and Uncle Martin, the Walt brothers. Their lives spread out before us along the walls, chronicled in vintage framed simple black and white photographs. I'd love to tell you about the breakfast room and the oak table. The Family dined around for over a century even preceding them. You know, life's truest treasures, like wisdom, gain their value not by what they cost, but from the worth conferred on them by their holder. Rarity has less to do with limited editions and everything to do with the stories infused into the life of an object. Reflecting on today's text. And this analogy of wisdom with a well built house has me thinking. I want my life to possess the qualities of my grandparents home. A place of spacious simplicity and well worn wisdom. A place where everything was old from the first day and yet seemed to ever renew itself with each passing year. Everything aged, yet nothing seemed to get older. That's what the wisdom and knowledge of God are like. They shape our lives like a well built house, filling our years with rare and beautiful treasures.