Tag: Spiritual Growth

Not All the Answers

At the beginning of Acts, Jesus’ disciples ask Him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6). In their minds, this was the right question. After all, they had walked with Jesus through His ministry, His death, and His resurrection, and the natural next step seemed to be the re-establishment of God’s kingdom. But Jesus, instead of providing a direct answer, redirects their focus. “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority,” He replies, “but you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses…” (Acts 1:7-8).

The disciples’ question highlights our common desire for clarity and control. Like them, we often want answers about God’s timeline or specifics of His plan. But Jesus reminds us that some things simply aren’t for us to know. Instead of giving a detailed roadmap, He offers us something better: the Holy Spirit’s guidance and empowerment.

In our own lives, the Holy Spirit continues to guide us through uncertainties. God knows that we, like the disciples, will not always have all the answers, and He encourages us to lean into His presence rather than our understanding. The Spirit’s role is not just to give us information but to transform us into people of faith and trust. As we surrender our need for control, we can grow in faith that God, who holds all knowledge and power, is directing our path.

God asks us to trust Him even when we don’t have all the answers. As Proverbs 3:5-6 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.” Our focus is not meant to be on securing every answer, but on becoming more responsive to the Spirit, following Him as He leads us forward with wisdom, patience, and courage.

Nothing to Lose: Building a Life of Sacrificial Trust

When Jesus watched the widow place two small coins in the temple treasury, He remarked that her offering was worth more than all the others. The wealthy were giving large sums, but it came from their abundance—they had enough left over that they wouldn’t miss what they gave. But this widow gave everything she had. Her gift, though small, was massive in its cost, and Jesus highlighted that her offering embodied true sacrificial trust.

This story challenges us to rethink how we give to God—not just financially but in every area of life. For those with financial security, giving can often become another line item, a “good thing” we do rather than an act that deeply stretches our faith. Sacrificial trust requires us to look beyond what is convenient or comfortable, pushing us to rely on God in ways that make us uncomfortable. So, if giving money isn’t stretching us, what can?

Building Trust in Practical Ways

To grow in sacrificial trust, we need to commit ourselves to practices that move us beyond our self-sufficiency and put us in a position where we need God to provide, guide, or sustain us. Here are some ways we can start intentionally cultivating this reliance on Him:

Prioritize Time for Service
Time is precious, and offering it to serve others can be one of the most challenging sacrifices. When we serve regularly—especially when it’s inconvenient—we learn to depend on God to supply energy, focus, and purpose. By giving time to those in need, we place our trust in God to help us manage the demands of life as we prioritize His kingdom.
Hospitality That Costs Something
Hospitality often involves more than opening our homes; it includes opening our hearts and schedules to others. Offering a place of rest or fellowship to those in need can stretch us emotionally and financially. This practice forces us to rely on God to provide and meet our needs, fostering a lifestyle of generosity and trust.
Making Faith-based Decisions with Career and Finances
When we choose to pursue purpose over profit or to fund ministries instead of saving excessively for ourselves, we enter a space where we rely on God to secure our future. Trusting Him with our careers or resources isn’t easy, but it’s a powerful exercise in dependence.
Practicing Fasting and Extended Prayer
Setting aside time to fast and pray helps us depend on God’s sustenance, both physically and spiritually. This intentional discipline can become a powerful act of faith, where we trust that God will meet our needs as we draw closer to Him.
Volunteering Professional Skills for Kingdom Purposes
Giving up paid time to volunteer our expertise requires both faith and sacrifice. Whether in a church, a nonprofit, or even informally, using skills for ministry without pay can challenge our dependence on material rewards and make us more reliant on God’s provision.
Seeking Forgiveness and Reconciliation
Taking steps toward reconciliation in our relationships often requires vulnerability and trust in God’s healing power. By putting ourselves in situations where we risk being hurt or rejected, we learn to trust God’s ability to heal and restore.
Surrendering Control Over Our Plans
Holding our ambitions, plans, and future loosely opens us to God’s leading. When we ask Him to show us what He wants for us, we must trust that His plans are ultimately better, even if it means giving up control or comfort.

The widow’s act of faith shows us that true giving costs us something. Sacrificial trust isn’t about the amount or kind of gift we give; it’s about our willingness to let go of our self-reliance and place ourselves fully in God’s hands. As we practice faith in new areas of life, we move beyond mere convenience to genuine, transformative trust.

Work the Hardest, Take the Least

In Luke 13:22-30 and 14:7-14, Jesus is both teaching and modeling a value that is deeply counter-cultural: the path to greatness in God’s kingdom is through humility, service, and selflessness. When the disciples are jockeying for position, and the crowd assumes that only the “qualified” will enter the kingdom, Jesus gives them a clear message—many who assume they’re first will find themselves last.

In these passages, Jesus first addresses the need to strive to enter the narrow door. The Greek verb used here, agonizomai, suggests a kind of intense, strenuous effort. It isn’t a matter of casual belief or superficial faith; it’s a dedicated pursuit that requires heart and soul. But even in the intensity of striving, Jesus goes on to say, we shouldn’t expect to take the highest seat.

In Luke 14:7-14, Jesus turns His attention to humility in social settings, giving a memorable illustration of guests at a banquet. Instead of seeking the place of honor, He instructs us to choose the least place, allowing the host to elevate us if he chooses. The kingdom, Jesus shows, is not about achieving high status but about taking on the role of the servant—the one who works hard without expectation of reward.

When we live with this humility, we free ourselves from the burden of recognition and avoid the risk of entitlement that Jesus warns can keep many out of the kingdom. Serving and loving others from the least position may seem unrewarding on the surface, but it aligns us with Jesus’ heart and reflects His sacrifice. And just as God exalts the humble, He promises to one day elevate those who took the lowest place in this life.

The challenge Jesus offers is this: When we’re eager to see growth or success, let’s not make it about ourselves. Instead, let’s “work the hardest and take the least,” joyfully serving others as we follow Jesus’ example. Only in letting go of the pursuit of self-gain do we find ourselves truly embracing kingdom values.

Never Stop Never Stopping

The title of today’s devotional is borrowed from the comedy film Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping by Andy Samberg—a film about an artist who refuses to quit despite repeated failures. And while it’s an over-the-top satire, that relentless spirit of pressing forward mirrors something crucial about the life of faith. For believers, the call to stay the course in God’s work isn’t a joke, it’s a mandate.

In Luke 13, Jesus tells the parable of the fig tree, where the gardener pleads for more time to tend the tree before cutting it down, asking for one last effort to see if it will bear fruit. It’s a picture of divine patience and hope for redemption, not giving up too soon on what still has potential.

This is the kind of perseverance Jesus calls us to. When He commissions us to work for His kingdom, to “harvest” by making disciples, there’s an urgency to the task. But there’s also an enduring patience, a refusal to give up. Seeds are planted, sometimes taking seasons or years to show signs of life. The harvest may seem delayed or even doubtful at times. But our task is not to predict the yield; it’s to faithfully tend the soil, plant the seeds, and trust God to bring the increase.

Jesus’ teaching reminds us that it’s not about the speed of results, but about the faithfulness of our labor. It’s easy to grow weary and think, “Nothing is happening here—time to move on.” But God doesn’t waste the seeds He plants, nor does He call us to walk away from them prematurely. Our role is to persist, to work while it’s still light out, to continue planting, praying, and sharing. As long as there’s time, there’s potential.

Of course, this doesn’t mean we’ll see every seed bear fruit in our lifetime. Sometimes the harvest is for someone else to reap. Other times, the waiting itself is the point—teaching us trust and perseverance. In the end, the harvest is up to God. Our job is to “never stop never stopping,” faithfully laboring in the fields of His Kingdom.

There’s no room for giving up when eternity is at stake. The best way to ensure more seeds can be planted and nurtured is by making room in the harvest. We must work with urgency but also with patient faith. In the end, it’s God’s field, God’s seed, and God’s harvest.

As we work, we’re reminded: there’s only so much time before night falls, but as long as it’s day, we must stay the course. We may not see the results we hoped for right away, but rest assured—the seeds of the Kingdom are never wasted. So never stop. And never stop never stopping.

Prayer 101 with Professor Jesus

Prayer was one of the most profound gifts that Jesus left to His followers, and He didn’t leave us without guidance. In fact, He taught us exactly how to pray in both Matthew and Luke’s Gospels, offering us a template that goes beyond mere words. It shows the heart and posture we should have in our communication with God. But is this prayer meant to be a formula we repeat, or does it highlight the essential attributes our own prayers should reflect?

When Jesus teaches us to pray with the words “Our Father,” He sets the foundation: prayer begins with relationship. God is not some distant deity, but our loving Father. This familial term invites us into a close, intimate space with the Creator of the universe. But it’s not all about us, is it? The phrase continues, “hallowed be Your name.” We are reminded to approach God with reverence, seeking His glory above all else. This balance of intimacy and reverence is crucial—prayer isn’t just casual conversation; it’s communion with the Almighty.

As we move through the Lord’s Prayer, we see a pattern emerge: acknowledge God’s holiness, align ourselves with His kingdom purposes, ask for daily sustenance, and seek forgiveness while extending it to others. This pattern shapes the priorities of prayer. Jesus is showing us that prayer isn’t simply about rattling off requests. It’s about inviting God’s kingdom into our hearts and lives, shaping our desires to match His.

What’s more, Jesus’ teaching on prayer doesn’t stop with the Lord’s Prayer. He goes on to compare God to a neighbor who is initially reluctant to help but finally gives in to persistent knocking (Luke 11:5-8). At first glance, this comparison can seem strange, even irreverent. Why liken God to a reluctant neighbor? Jesus is not saying that God is annoyed by our prayers, but rather highlighting the power of persistence. The point is clear: even a grumpy neighbor eventually responds to persistence. How much more will our loving Father hear us when we come to Him in prayer?

Persistence, reverence, alignment with God’s will, and trust in His provision—these are the marks of prayer that Jesus teaches us. It’s not about mindless repetition, nor is it about manipulating outcomes. Instead, it’s about being deeply rooted in relationship with God, seeking His will, and trusting Him to provide.

When we look at Jesus’ other prayers in the Gospels, such as His prayer in Gethsemane, the same elements are present. Even in His darkest hour, Jesus submits to the Father’s will, trusting in the goodness of God’s plan even when it meant His own suffering. This pattern of trust, surrender, and persistence permeates all of Jesus’ prayers, giving us a clear model for our own.

Ultimately, prayer isn’t about getting what we want. It’s about becoming the kind of people God can use to bring about His kingdom. We pray not to change God’s mind, but to align ourselves with His heart.

Looking Isn’t Seeing, and Hearing Isn’t Listening

The disciples’ experience on the stormy sea teaches us a profound truth: we can look right at something and not truly see it. In Matthew 13, Jesus tells parables, and while the crowds hear Him, few really listen. Similarly, on the boat in Luke 8, the disciples see Jesus perform miracles but don’t fully understand what they’re witnessing. Even though they’d already seen Jesus heal the sick and cast out demons, they still didn’t expect Him to calm the storm with just a word. When the wind died down, they were shocked: “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey Him!” (Luke 8:25).

The first lesson here is that it’s okay not to understand everything we see or hear at first. Like the disciples, we may have moments where we look at the world or even at God’s work and find ourselves confused. We might wonder why things happen the way they do or question God’s plans. That’s natural. But the key is what the disciples did next—they asked questions. Jesus’ closest followers were allowed to ask, to seek clarity about the parables and the mysteries of the Kingdom. When we seek God, asking questions and searching for understanding, we open ourselves up to receiving answers in time.

This brings us to the second takeaway: we must trust Jesus in the storms of life, even when we don’t fully understand. The disciples’ fear of the storm mirrored their fear of uncertainty—how could Jesus allow this to happen? But Jesus wasn’t simply focused on their safety; He was focused on their faith. He rebukes them for their lack of it, saying, “Where is your faith?” (Luke 8:25). Jesus never promised a storm-free life, but He did promise that He would be with us in the storm, and that’s where trust comes in.

William Lane Craig once said that God’s ultimate goal is not to provide a “comfortable home for His human pets,” but to accomplish His kingdom purposes, which sometimes means allowing difficulty. This perspective transforms our expectations. We may not have an easy life, but we know that God’s promises are trustworthy, and His goals go beyond our immediate comfort—they’re about His eternal Kingdom.

Just as the disciples didn’t understand at first how Jesus could have control over the forces of nature, we don’t always see how God is working in the chaos of our lives. But we do know enough: Jesus is with us, and His plans are good. In time, everything will be made clear, just as a lamp is brought out to shine and illuminate the darkness (Mark 4:21-23).

So, when we don’t understand, let’s keep asking questions, and let’s trust Him through the storm. After all, as Paul said, to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord (2 Corinthians 5:8)—a far greater comfort than any temporary earthly relief.

Accidental Righteousness? I Don’t Think So

In Haggai 2, the prophet speaks to the remnant of Israel after their return from exile, addressing their efforts to rebuild the temple. In verses 10–19, God uses a powerful illustration to make a point about purity and defilement. He asks the priests whether holiness can be transferred through mere contact, and the answer is no. But when He asks if defilement can spread through touch, the answer is yes. The message is clear: sin easily defiles, but righteousness doesn’t simply “rub off” on others.

This context is vital to understanding the heart of Haggai’s message. The people had returned from exile and were working on restoring the temple, but their hearts were still not fully aligned with God. Despite their physical efforts, their spiritual state mattered most. The external work they were doing wouldn’t make them righteous before God if their hearts remained impure. Sin, like a disease, contaminates easily, and their efforts—while good—couldn’t cleanse them of their sinful tendencies.

For us today, the application is profound. Sin spreads easily in our lives. It creeps in through the smallest cracks—our thoughts, attitudes, habits, and relationships. It doesn’t take much for our hearts to be tainted by pride, anger, jealousy, or selfishness. Righteousness, however, is not something that happens accidentally or passively. It requires intentional pursuit and devotion to God. Just as the Israelites couldn’t rely on the temple to make them holy, we can’t assume that simply attending church or reading the Bible without engagement will make us righteous.

We are fertile ground for sin, and it is our default state unless we actively seek God and allow His Spirit to transform us. The world around us often promotes values and behaviors that can easily defile our hearts and minds, and if we aren’t careful, those influences can take root. But righteousness requires effort. It demands that we choose, day by day, to walk in obedience to Christ, to reject sin, and to cultivate the fruits of the Spirit in our lives.

God’s grace is what enables us to pursue righteousness, but it doesn’t remove the need for effort. We must be intentional in our pursuit of holiness, knowing that it is by God’s power, not our own, that we grow in righteousness. Like the Israelites rebuilding the temple, we need to focus not only on the external aspects of our faith but also on the condition of our hearts. We must be vigilant, always seeking to uproot sin and replace it with the righteousness that comes through Christ.

From a Trickle to a Torrent: When God’s Life Flows Through You

In Ezekiel 47, we read about a river flowing from the temple, starting as a trickle but quickly becoming a mighty, life-giving stream. As the river moves, it transforms everything in its path, bringing life to barren lands and healing even the salty, lifeless Dead Sea. This vision is more than a geographical restoration; it’s a profound picture of what happens when God’s presence and power flow into our lives.

Like the river in Ezekiel’s vision, God’s work in our lives often starts small. It may begin as a single moment—a prayer, a conviction, an encounter with Him. At first, it’s ankle-deep. We feel the refreshing presence of God, but we’re still in control. But as we step deeper into the flow, we begin to experience something more profound. What starts as a trickle of God’s life begins to swell, transforming not only us but also the areas of our lives that feel barren or lifeless.

The deeper we go, the less control we have—and that’s a good thing. As the river gets stronger, it moves us, reshaping our priorities, our desires, and our hearts. Where there was once spiritual dryness, God brings healing. Where we once felt stagnant, He causes us to flourish. This river is a symbol of God’s uncontainable life, and He invites us to step into its flow, allowing His presence to transform us completely.

But here’s the challenge: many of us are content to stay in the shallow waters. We’re hesitant to surrender fully, fearing what might happen if we lose control. But God calls us to dive deeper, to let His Spirit carry us where we cannot go on our own. Just as the river brings life to everything it touches, when we allow God’s presence to fully immerse us, we become a powerful witness to the source of life and healing for others.

The question for us today is: are we willing to wade deeper? Are we ready to let God take us beyond the comfortable and into the transformative depths of His presence? When we do, the impact isn’t just personal. Like the river in Ezekiel’s vision, God’s work in us will overflow into the world around us, bringing healing, renewal, and life to others.

Going Through the Motions? The Call to True Holiness

During today’s reading, I was struck by how the people of Israel seemed to treat the temple and its associated rituals as mere routines, missing the deeper significance. This echoes God’s command to His people in Leviticus 19:2: “Be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy.” The call to holiness means being set apart—distinct from the common, the mundane, the profane. Holiness is not simply about following rituals, but about embodying the character of God Himself.

The people of Israel had fallen into the trap of ritualism—going through the motions without grasping the essence of what it meant to be in relationship with a holy God. Ezekiel’s temple vision is a stark reminder of this. The very structure, the detailed measurements, and the specific instructions all scream one thing: God’s holiness demands reverence. The temple was not just a building; it was the dwelling place of the Almighty, and everything about it was designed to reflect His uncommon nature.

Holiness isn’t just about external actions but about the condition of the heart. The rituals were meant to point to something deeper—God’s character and His call for His people to be set apart from the world. The Israelites were not simply to look different from the nations around them; they were to embody the nature of the God they served. And that same call extends to us today.

As Christians, it’s easy to fall into the same trap. We can go through the motions—attending church, reading the Bible, saying prayers—without really engaging with the holiness of God. The routines and rituals of our faith can become just that: routine. But God calls us to live uncommon lives, to be set apart for His purposes. Holiness is not something we achieve by ticking boxes or performing rituals. It’s a transformation that takes place when we allow God’s Spirit to shape us into the image of Christ.

So what does that mean for us today? First, we must recognize that holiness is not optional. Just as God’s people were called to be distinct, we are called to be salt and light in a world that often looks very different from God’s Kingdom. Second, we need to reflect on our own lives and consider whether we’ve reduced our relationship with God to a series of rituals or whether we are truly engaging with His presence. Lastly, being uncommon means living with purpose, showing the world that there is something different about those who follow Christ—not because of anything we do, but because of who He is.

Holiness is not about being perfect; it’s about being set apart for a purpose. Let’s embrace that calling today.

Perspectives From the Valley

Today, I found myself reflecting on Lamentations 2-4. These chapters are heavy with sorrow, painting a vivid picture of Israel’s suffering. Yet, amid the devastation, one idea struck me: tragedy has a way of bringing into sudden and sharp focus what is truly valuable. It’s ironic, isn’t it? In our darkest moments, when everything seems lost, we begin to see clearly what really matters.

When life is smooth and everything is going our way, it’s easy to get caught up in the trivial. We chase after comfort, success, and fleeting pleasures. But when tragedy strikes—when we hit rock bottom—those things suddenly lose their luster. What we once valued pales in comparison to the deeper truths that emerge from the shadows.

It’s in the valley, surrounded by darkness, that we can truly appreciate the majesty of the peak. The struggles we face strip away our illusions, leaving us with a clearer view of God’s faithfulness, the importance of relationships, and the strength that comes from enduring hardship.

This is the paradox of pain: it refines our perspective, helping us to see what we couldn’t when life was easy. It’s only when we’ve been brought low that we can fully appreciate the heights of God’s love and grace.

So, if you find yourself in a valley, don’t despair. This may be the moment when you finally see what really matters. Let the hardships bring clarity, and trust that God is leading you through the valley to a place where you can better appreciate the beauty of the peak.