Tag: Spiritual Growth

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.

Why Your Life Needs to Burn Down… Sometimes

When I read today’s passage, one thought struck me above the others: Israel, now “desolate,” would finally have its “Sabbath Rest.” This isn’t just about a nation lying in ruins—it’s about the spiritual renewal that only comes after the flames of destruction have swept through.

Imagine a forest. For centuries, forest fires were a natural part of its life cycle. The flames would burn away dead wood, making room for new growth. Today, we try to stop any fire from breaking out, thinking we’re protecting the forest. But without those periodic burns, the underbrush grows thick, the dead wood piles up, and eventually, a fire does come—and it’s far more devastating.

Israel’s desolation was like that necessary fire. The nation had accumulated so much spiritual “dead wood”—idolatry, injustice, and disobedience—that God allowed a cleansing fire to sweep through. This wasn’t just judgment; it was a reset, a forced Sabbath rest. In the ashes of what was, God was preparing the ground for what could be—a new beginning, a renewal.

What does this mean for us? Sometimes, God allows parts of our lives to “burn down” so that we can experience true spiritual renewal. We might resist, thinking we’re protecting ourselves, but without these periods of cleansing, the weight of unaddressed sin, unresolved issues, and spiritual complacency only grows. When God strips away what’s unnecessary, He’s making room for new growth—preparing us for something better.

So, if you’re going through a time of desolation, don’t despair. It might be that God is clearing the way for something new. Let the old burn away, and embrace the Sabbath rest He’s offering—a time to reflect, repent, and renew your commitment to Him. After the fire, new life will spring forth.

Defeat as Discipline

In today’s readings, we encounter a challenging truth: not every obstacle or hardship is meant to be overcome. Sometimes, the “bad things” that happen to us are actually God’s way of protecting or disciplining us.

Ezekiel 3:20 (NLT) presents a sobering warning: “If righteous people turn away from their righteous behavior and ignore the obstacles I put in their way, they will die. And if you do not warn them, they will die in their sins. None of their righteous acts will be remembered, and I will hold you responsible for their deaths.” Here, God emphasizes that even the righteous are not exempt from discipline. If they turn away from their righteousness, God may place obstacles in their path, not to be overcome, but as a form of discipline.

In Jeremiah 28, the false prophet Hananiah tells the people of Judah that God will break the yoke of Babylon and free them within two years. However, Jeremiah counters this by saying that their captivity is God’s will and must be endured. Hananiah’s false prophecy leads to his death, underscoring the severity of trying to escape or misrepresent God’s discipline.

These passages remind us that not every challenge is meant to be overcome. Sometimes, what we perceive as obstacles are actually God’s protective hand or corrective discipline at work. When we try to “escape” these challenges, we might miss the lesson or the protection God intends for us.

Rather than rushing to overcome every difficulty, we need to ask ourselves: Is this obstacle God’s way of protecting me? Is this hardship His discipline? Trusting in God’s plan, even when it involves discomfort, can lead to greater growth and alignment with His will.

For Now Isn’t Forever

In our journey through life, we often find ourselves adjusting to our circumstances, whether they be moments of joy or seasons of hardship. This adjustment, while necessary, can sometimes deceive us into believing that our current situation is permanent. Psychologists refer to this tendency as the “status quo bias,” where we assume that the way things are now is how they will continue to be, leading us to resist change or fail to anticipate it.

I experienced this personally when my mother-in-law suffered a brain aneurysm. The aneurysm left her unable to recover, and though her body continued to function, the prognosis was bleak. For five days, our family sat with her in the hospital, watching and waiting. It was shocking how quickly the surreal became routine. The beeping machines, the sterile smell of the hospital, the cost of parking—they all became a new normal. When she finally passed on that fifth day, it felt as though she had died again, as we were jolted out of a reality we had inadvertently settled into.

The story of King Zedekiah demonstrates a similar situation. Zedekiah was granted a temporary reprieve when the Babylonian forces withdrew from Jerusalem to face another threat. Instead of seeking God or using this time to prepare, Zedekiah seemed to assume that this new reality would persist. He mistook the pause in pressure as a lasting peace. But as we read in Jeremiah 37, that peace was fleeting. The Babylonians returned, and Jerusalem’s fate was sealed.

Like Zedekiah, we can easily become complacent, mistaking temporary relief as a permanent state. But as Christians, we are called to live with a different mindset. We are reminded in Scripture to always be vigilant, to be in a constant state of readiness for whatever God may call us to next. We are not to settle into our current circumstances, assuming they will last forever, but rather to trust that God is at work in every season, preparing us for His next move.

Our lives are full of transitions, and while it’s natural to adapt to our surroundings, we must not let our temporary circumstances define our expectations for the future. Whether in times of peace or in the midst of trials, we should continually seek God, asking Him what He desires to teach us and how He wants us to prepare for what lies ahead.

Let us remember that for now isn’t forever. Our trust should not be in the permanence of our circumstances, but in the eternal God who guides us through them. We must remain ready, always seeking, always listening, and always prepared to follow where He leads.

Tell Me What I Want To Hear

In Jeremiah 26:11, we see the priests and prophets accusing Jeremiah of treason for delivering a prophecy of doom: “This man deserves the sentence of death because he has prophesied against this city, as you have heard with your own ears.” Jeremiah’s words were not what the people wanted to hear, and their reaction highlights a common human tendency: rejecting uncomfortable truths in favor of comforting lies. This is echoed in 2 Timothy 4:3-4, where Paul warns that a time will come when people “will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.”

The accusation of treason against Jeremiah underscores the resistance to prophetic truth that contradicts personal or national expectations. Jeremiah’s prophecy was not treasonous; it was a call to repentance, aiming to avert the disaster that awaited Judah if they continued in their sinful ways. Yet, the people preferred to silence the prophet rather than heed his warning, demonstrating the peril of valuing comfort over truth.

This scenario isn’t unique to ancient Judah. Today, we can be just as prone to seeking out voices that affirm our desires and beliefs, rather than those that challenge us with uncomfortable truths. Whether it’s in politics, religion, or personal relationships, the temptation to surround ourselves with yes-men—those who tell us what we want to hear rather than what we need to hear—is ever-present. This leads to a dangerous echo chamber, where truth becomes a casualty, and growth is stunted.

Paul’s warning to Timothy is a timeless caution against this tendency. True growth, both spiritually and personally, requires a willingness to face hard truths and to be corrected. When we reject sound doctrine in favor of teachings that merely scratch our itching ears, we stray from the path of righteousness and risk falling into deception.

In our lives, we must strive to value truth over comfort. This means being open to correction, seeking out voices that challenge us, and remaining vigilant against the tendency to embrace only those messages that affirm our desires.