Ugh…I still have so far to go.

However, one of the things I have noticed while studying prayer in Scripture is how often the language of watchfulness is connected to it. We see this pairing over and over again.

In the Old Testament, we see the language of watchmen.

Watchmen were soldiers assigned to stand on city walls or within elevated towers, often near the main gate. They were expected to look for approaching messengers, potential danger, or enemy forces. They watched through the night, when those within the city were asleep and most vulnerable.

Plenty of Christian writers and teachers have unpacked the prophetic significance of watchmen for the Church, particularly for intercessors. There are many powerful connections. Here are a few:

Watchmen were assigned to watch on behalf of others within the city.

Intercessors are assigned to pray on behalf of others.

Watchmen looked for approaching messengers and possible threats.

Intercessors and prophets listen for messages from the Lord, attempt to discern spiritual threats, and seek heaven’s answers for current problems.

However, it is not simply the connection between watchmen and intercessors that fascinates me — though you can expect a substack later from me on this topic. I am even more fascinated by the broader command to be watchful. This language appears repeatedly throughout the New Testament.

The most prominent passage connecting watchfulness and prayer is found in Matthew 26 and Mark 14—the story of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. Consider a few of Jesus’ commands to His disciples on the night before His betrayal:

“Remain here, and watch with Me.”

“Could you not watch with Me one hour?”

“Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation.”

Why does Jesus connect watchfulness, the Greek language also carrying the idea of staying awake and remaining alert, with the practice of prayer?

We see the same connection in 1 Peter 4:7:

“The end of all things is at hand; therefore be serious and watchful in your prayers.”

Why does Peter teach his readers this same lesson?

Why is watchfulness so often paired with prayer, and why is prayer so often connected to watchfulness?

I believe it is because they create a powerful cycle in which each one strengthens the other.

When we are spiritually aware, that awareness pushes us toward prayer — or at least it should. When we recognize the creeping temptations of our flesh or the insidious schemes of the enemy, we gain clarity about what we need to pray. Spiritual alertness not only gives direction to our prayers; it motivates us to pray.

When we recognize the disguised attacks of the enemy within our culture, we are given fresh urgency to intercede.

This is what it means to be sober-minded: to see things clearly.

An intoxicated person does not perceive reality correctly. Everything becomes distorted. That which is straight appears bent, and that which is dangerous can appear harmless.

This is the danger of becoming intoxicated by the spirit of the age. It is the same intoxication that blinded humanity in the days of Noah as rain began to fall and Noah entered the ark. It is the same intoxication that blinded the Pharisees as they schemed against the very Son of God. It is the same intoxication that swept through the crowds as they shouted, “Crucify Him!” to a Man who had done no wrong.

As believers, we must see clearly. We must refuse to become drunk on the wine of the flesh, sin, and secular culture.

We must stay alert.

We must remain aware.

However, this awareness is not meant to drive us toward pride, fear, anger, or self-preservation. It is meant to drive us toward prayer.

When we recognize the attacks of the enemy or the deceptions of the flesh, we must allow our alertness to move us toward the one thing that can bring about genuine spiritual change: prayer.

Then, as we pray, our eyes are opened even further to the spiritual condition of the world around us. We begin to see more clearly the condition of our families, churches, regions, and nations. As greater revelation comes, we are once again compelled to pray.

Watchfulness leads to prayer, and prayer opens our eyes to be more watchful.

I believe this helps explain why we see so little prayer in our individual lives, our small groups, and our local churches:

We are not watchful.

Let me clarify.

Physically, we are watching everything. Spiritually, we are seeing nothing.

We are not lacking social media posts, news stories, or YouTube Shorts. Within seconds, we can see what is happening on the other side of the globe. The problem is not simply what we are seeing—although, for many of us, what we consume certainly needs to be purged and purified. The deeper problem is how we are seeing it.

We are seeing through natural eyes rather than spiritual ones.

We have been lulled to sleep by the sweet nectar of the natural. We no longer recognize spiritual realities because we have trained ourselves to interpret everything in merely natural terms.

Consider the twisted ideologies of sexual identity being taught to children in schools. Consider the idolatrous, capitalistic pursuit of more stuff promoted in the latest book from the rising successful business leader. Consider the obsessive, egotistical self-promotion displayed in so many Instagram posts.

We have become spiritually blind to the activity of the enemy because we have been swept into the current of the culture around us.

The very schemes of the enemy that should awaken us and drive us toward prayer have instead intoxicated us and lulled us to sleep.

And how deep a sleep we find ourselves in.

At this point, Christ could be mounted on His horse, with fire in His eyes, preparing to return tomorrow, and many of us would miss it. The enemy could reveal himself openly, and the world would call it art, progress, natural, or normal, and many christians wouldn’t bat an eye.

Church, let us be watchful.

Christians, let us stay alert.

Let us learn to see with spiritual eyes.

If you feel asleep, ask the Lord to rouse you. Romans 13:11-12 has been a powerful verse for me to pray over myself and others.

If you feel intoxicated by the spirit of the age, ask the Holy Spirit to lead you through a detox. That may mean beginning with a physical detox from blue screens and the unhealthy dopamine habits.

We must not allow our awareness of what is happening around us to drive us toward passivity. It must move us toward action.

Action in prayer.

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Psalm 146 makes a bold declaration, punctual to our current American calendar. It says,

“Put not your trust in princes, in a son of man, in whom there is no salvation. When his breath departs, he returns to the earth; on that very day his plans perish.”

How many of us need to hear these words and be reminded of them? The 4th of July has a unique way of stirring up nostalgia for what was, optimism for what will be, and gratitude for what currently is. The danger, however, is for all three of these swelling emotions to put our trust in one. Maybe it is hoping and dreaming of a time in America that once was, and the belief that we can return to that way of living. Maybe it is blind optimism about the future of this nation. Or maybe, for you, it was simply soaking in the summer rays, enjoying this amazing holiday with friends, and then choosing to look no further than the fireworks being launched in front of you.

Whatever your 4th of July looked like, consider the words of the Psalmist today: “Put not your trust in princes.” I believe you could take that ancient statement and modernize it: “Trust not in earthly leaders.” Or, in its application, make the statement even larger: “Trust not in earthly kings and kingdoms.”

Maybe you find yourself reading this and the 4th of July angers you—for that reason, I do not understand—or you find yourself delighting in the 4th of July more than any other holiday. The temptation for all of us is to develop a misplaced trust. The belief that the current president can change things. That he can, in fact, Make America Great Again. Maybe, for you, you are waiting for a future ruler, one very different from Trump, hoping the next leader can make changes the current one never could. I do not know where you fall in the political aisle, but my encouragement to you this Independence season is to put not your trust in earthly leaders. The Psalmist here reminds us how futile and fragile these leaders are.

He says, “Put not your trust in princes, in whom there is no salvation.”

Check your heart this day to see if you have placed your hope and trust in the salvation of an earthly man. For their plans will fail, their ambitions will fall short, and their time will swiftly come to an end. Placing hope in an earthly man only leads to disappointment, because all our finite, fleshly leaders will fail, just as we ourselves fail.

It also reveals how fragile the plans of earthly leaders are. It says, “When his breath departs, he returns to the earth; on that very day his plans perish.”

In our world today, it is not so much a lifetime, but every four years. Within the turnover of an election, so also the plans are turned over. If your hope rests in a leader that is here and gone every 4 years (maybe 8), that itself will lead to a disappointing and painful experience. Of course, do your part. Vote, get involved, participate in areas you can change, but guard your heart so that you avoid slipping into trusting in earthly princes.

Instead, trust in God. The Psalmist draws us into who we should trust by reminding us of who is truly in charge. He says,

“Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord his God, who made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, who keeps faith forever, who executes justice for the oppressed, who gives food to the hungry. The Lord sets the prisoners free, the Lord opens the eyes of the blind. The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down; the Lord loves the righteous. The Lord watches over the sojourners; he upholds the widow and the fatherless, but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.”

Listen to the Psalmist wonderfully bring our attention back to its proper place. He reminds us of the uncreated God—the God who has watched kingdoms rise and fall, leaders come and go, and yet He still remains. Trust in the God who made the heavens and the earth, not the leaders who penned independence letters. Trust in the God who executes justice perfectly, not the leaders who implement flawed human laws. Trust in the Lord who cares for and watches over every man, woman, and child. Trust in God.

Celebrate America, but do not confuse who is really on the throne and who places those leaders in position.

Reminisce about America, but do not misorder the true Kingdom.

Be present to the beautiful Holidays we have in this nation, but more so, be present to the Lord, who is far closer, and far more lovely than anything this world has to offer.

Hear the Word of God and build your life on that—for it can hold the weight of your life and the lives of others: put not your trust in princes; trust in God.

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For most of us, that is the predominant reason we pray. Something tragic arises within our life, so we pray.

Let me be clear, the Lord is in no way offended by such prayers. Quite the opposite. He is honored by them. He delights in them.

The reason we go to the Father in times of need is likely because we have exhausted all earthly resources and ideas, and have come to the end of ourselves and our human solutions. We are forced to call on a spiritual force beyond the physical. It is in these moments that the Lord is greatly honored. For the Lord is never irritated or disappointed with the prayers of his children — even if they are selfish, naive, or elementary. He especially does not condemn a child coming to him in a moment of need. The Lord, I truly believe, cares most simply that we come to Him, no matter the circumstances.

In this most recent season of my life, I have found myself in the school of prayer, and in this most recent and rigorous enrollment, I have learned that these requests we bring to Him are often fulfilled differently than we want or think. For most of us, the need and the prayer are both tools the Lord uses to raise up a solution.

Follow me on this line of thinking for a moment.

Consider what you are burdened by. Maybe it is parenting — maybe specifically homeschooling the kids. Maybe it is building a business with godly values. Maybe it is justice for the marginalized, the outcast, or the hurting. Whatever it may be, each of us has most likely been burdened with something. I am not speaking of subtle irritations, but instead deeper things that cause us to tick. Things that anger us to our core. Things that rouse a holy discontentment. Maybe it is discipleship, church planting, or missions. Each of us has been given a burden, and that burden most often manifests through revelation.

When I say revelation, I mean insight into the way something is and the way it should be. You clearly see the discrepancies. You see the gaps.

That revelation, by design, however, is meant to drive us to places of prayer. This is where we get things so wrong.

For most of us, the revelation we obtain drives us toward a few different things. The first is criticism.

We spot a deficiency in our local church, and instead of praying on its behalf, we complain and criticize the failure. We exacerbate it with negative talk, instead of filling it with holy intercession. Often this comes from our own immaturity as believers, though most often, it comes from our own laziness. We see the failures but do not have the agency to bring about change. So we criticize. We point fingers. We find fault.

The reason for this is that prayer and intercession are costly. They require much. They often feel more like exercise than conversation. Yet, the Lord pours out revelation for the sake of intercession. He grants us insight into these things so that he might raise up a solution. He pours out vision to draw us into change at the spiritual level first.

I believe that God’s expanding revelation in our lives for people, places, and things is to serve as fuel for the fire of prayer. If you have a revelation of how poorly your parents parented you — pray for them, for yourself, and for others with poor parents. Do not simply criticize and bad-mouth them with your counselor. If you have revelation about the failures of our justice system — pray. Pray for the laws, the judges, and the system. Increased revelation should lead to increased intercession.

So even now, consider the things that you are burdened by and, right now, choose to pray. Do not criticize. Do not make blanket accusations. Instead, bear that burden in the prayer room before the Almighty. For God is always drawing the believer into greater intimacy, and he does it through increased awareness of the issues plaguing our world.

The other thing we often do — if we are not captured by criticism — is begin to implement changes based on our knowledge, skills, or ideas. This also is a failure to steward the revelation.

Let’s continue on with the church discipleship analogy. So instead of criticizing, for many, we go full speed ahead with whatever idea we see fit. Maybe we do a little research and find a fix that appeases our preferences, and then begin to implement. In doing so, we may go counter to the church’s leadership or preferred method. Then, in frustration, when no one else buys into the method, we leave in a fit of anger, offense, and disappointment. The reason for it is that we skipped the vital step of prayer.

Prayer is and must be the first place we go when we are burdened with something and granted revelation into its discrepancies. We cannot run toward fault finding, and we cannot choose to lean on our own understanding and implement in our own strength. The proverbs give clear teaching on this (Proverbs 3:5-6). We must run to prayer.

This, however, is where the reality of prayer shows itself differently than we expect. Most often, the end result of this is your greater involvement to fix the issue. Another temptation of prayer is believing that it is the end-all-be-all. Sometimes, that is the case, but not always. God will place burdens on his children to get our attention, and in getting our attention, he begins to activate us to physically fix the issue. Yet, the fix often comes slower than we hope. So prepare yourself accordingly, knowing that the solution to the problem you bear will almost certainly be you. This is why our greatest places of pain — which are often burdens — are the most effective places of ministry.

This is the profound reality of prayer. What we believe is our relinquishing of a problem to God for him to answer is, instead, God activating the answer to the problem through man.

How often we see prayer wrongly. We cast our cares on him, believing the responsibility is now His, when in reality, God has been casting his cares on us so that the responsibility would now be ours.

Prayer is far more God moving us than it is us moving God.

Yet, so much kingdom advancement and Gospel messaging stutters because we avoid the place of prayer, skip to criticism, or build in our own strength. We medicate the burden away. We slander those trying to aid the problem. We avoid that holy place of prayer where burdens are exchanged, solutions are created, and kingdom agents are commissioned.

The truth is, prayer often leads to your greater engagement on the front lines, not your escape from them. Success on the front lines comes only after it has been soaked in prayer. We will find no success doing it on our own, and we will see no change by being a squeaky wheel in our community.

My encouragement to you today: consider your burden, and take it to the Lord in prayer.

If it be politics, take it to the Almighty, not another post on social media.

If it be social justice, take it to the Almighty, not another protest on a street corner.

If it be evangelism, take it to the Almighty, not a megaphone on campus.

If it be homeschooling, take it to the Almighty, not criticism of the public school system.

Again, I do not know what your burden is, but bear it before the Lord in the secret place of prayer. For there, you will find relief, and there you will find success.

“Humility, as we all know, is one of those virtues that is never gained by seeking it. The more we pursue it, the more distant it becomes. To think we have it is sure evidence that we don’t.”

Humility is one of those rare qualities rarely found in people — particularly leaders. It is difficult to be a leader and remain humble. The reason being, leadership is so often in the spotlight. It leads the way. It runs out front. It is difficult to keep a heart of hiddenness and humility when people are following you.

Humility is also one of those qualities that, if we spend too much time pursuing, it works in reverse. The more time spent thinking about ourselves, the more likely we are to fall into its opposing vice — pride. Humility is not self-seeking, self-serving, or self-thinking. Humility is self-forgetfulness.

However, humility is beyond simply self-forgetfulness, because people can revel in their self-forgetfulness — revel in their “nothingness.” We see this in many leaders and pastors who lead small, hidden churches. They convince themselves that they are the greatest because they are least in the spotlight — that, though it looks different than the overtly arrogant megachurch pastor, is still pride.

Humility, as I have come to define it, and I am sure others have as well, is simply seeing yourself and God rightly.

Humility is realizing your own strengths and thanking the Lord for them, while being fully aware of your own weaknesses and then choosing to lean on God in them. Humility is recognizing your dependency upon God.

What is so wild about humility, however, is the more you see your own “strengths,” the more you recognize how not strong they are. You recognize that even your best character trait is not enough to lead the way God requires. Let me explain this more.

As a continual, aspiring leader, I am always trying to grow in my leadership abilities. To improve, get better. And over the years, I have come to believe that the most beautiful leadership quality, or quality in general, is humility. Leaders who can admit their wrong, own up to failure, do not need the praise of others, and genuinely see themselves correctly — that is the most beautiful thing. People who see themselves correctly possess a sure leadership trait that will gain followers.

Yet, in my own journey, I have wanted to grow to look like the very leaders I admire, yet how does one grow in humility while not pursuing it? Richard Foster’s words ring so true, “the more you pursue it, the more distant it becomes.” How then do we grow in humility?

I believe there are a few different things we can do to both evaluate if we ourselves are humble, and methods that we can implement to produce a spirit of humility while not pursuing humility directly.

The first is prayer.

When one has an accurate perspective of oneself — as in, when one truly sees themselves accurately — the byproduct will be more prayer.

The reason prayer is the fruit of a humble heart is because it reveals how well we know ourselves. It reveals how little we actually control. It reveals how feeble we actually are.

Let’s take this beyond church and ministry. When I consider my role as a father — my job to protect, love, cultivate, and lead my daughter — I realize very quickly how incapable I actually am to do it. I realize that even on my best days, I fall painfully short of the father she needs. There are moments I am more distracted than I should be. Moments that I am too impatient. Moments that I am tired. Even on my best days, when I excel in all of these areas, I recognize my own inability to truly parent her.

Let’s take this beyond the physical and look to her spiritual growth. Even if my wife and I take her to church, surround her with godly influence, sing to her every Sunday school jingle, and read her every Bible story, it does not guarantee she grows up to know the Lord. Now, I know these things greatly help, but it is not a guarantee. We could do everything perfectly as parents, yet she still may not fall in love with Jesus. That harrowing revelation is what leads us to prayer. It is the right understanding that even in all of our strengths — though we have many weaknesses — we cannot lead her well enough. We of course will try our best, but the real evidence of our humility as parents is our willingness to pray.

Prayer is need and dependence in action. Prayer is humility manifested in the physical. Prayer is the only response when our eyes have been opened to our own frailty and failures as parents, friends, siblings, leaders, and pastors. When we see ourselves correctly, it drives us to our knees. Because when we see ourselves rightly, even our best qualities are not enough. When we see our own righteousness, we see that it is simply like filthy rags before the Almighty (Isaiah 64:6).

So a great litmus test for you to see if you are truly a humble person is to ask the question, “Do you pray?” Do you ask the Lord to fill up the gap where you fall short?

Do you carve out time to pray? Do you make room in your calendar to pray?

Maybe for you it isn’t parenting or ministry, but maybe it is leading a team. Maybe it is running a business. Maybe it is going to school or playing sports. Whatever it is, it should be marked by prayer.

I would like to believe the Lord is making me a more humble person — yet even writing about humility and my own personal experience feels difficult. It really is a high rope to walk. I feel as though my heart has been set ablaze for prayer, partly because, after 7 years of pastoral ministry at the same place, I recognize that even in all my good accomplishments and leadership decisions — even the great ones — they are not enough to change hearts. My gifts are not enough to lead people. Grace-driven prayer fills the gap between me as a leader and God as the ultimate Leader. I believe this quote by Samuel Brengle describes what I am feeling well:

“If I appear great in their eyes, the Lord is most graciously helping me to see how absolutely nothing I am without Him, and helping me to keep little in my own eyes. He does use me, but I’m so concerned that He uses me and that it is not of me that the work is done. The ax cannot boast of the trees it cuts down. It could do nothing but for the woodsman. He made it, He sharpened it, and He used it. The moment He throws it aside, it becomes only old iron. Oh, that I may never lose sight of this.”

This is humility: recognizing that all of our accomplishments are by the hand of Holy Providence.

Look for just a moment with me at the person of Moses.

Moses was called out by God to lead His chosen people — the Israelites. Moses was not a great public speaker and had quite the history. He was an Israelite later adopted by Egyptians, given a home in Pharaoh’s palace. He was a murderer and later a runaway convict. Moses, from all accounts, would not be your ideal hire for leading anything, let alone God’s nation.

Yet, in spite of his red-flag-riddled resumé, Moses was humble. The Scriptures would actually describe him as the most humble man to ever live (Numbers 12:3). So then, what was the evidence of that humility? The answer is prayer.

Multiple different times Moses would fall on his face before God and pray — or intercede — on behalf of the people. One stretch being 40 days where he lay before God praying on behalf of the people of Israel. Moses’ humility was marked by a deep and profound conviction to pray, to talk to God, to seek God’s face because he understood his own charm, leadership, or public speaking ability (or lack thereof) would not be enough to lead the people. Here are just a few more passages of when Moses distinctly sought God on behalf of the people:

Exodus 32:11–14 — after the golden calf

Exodus 32:30–32 — pleading for their forgiveness

Numbers 11:1–2 — when the people complained and fire broke out

Numbers 12:13 — for Miriam’s healing

Numbers 14:13–20 — after the bad report and rebellion

Numbers 16:20–24 — during Korah’s rebellion

Numbers 16:46–48 — plague stopped through priestly intercession initiated by Moses

Numbers 21:7 — after the fiery serpents

The point I am trying to make is humility’s fruit is prayer.

What then do you do if prayer is waning or struggling in your life? How do you muster up a life of prayer if it just isn’t there? How do you live humbly if you cannot pursue it?

You study God.

The second half of that definition of humility that I had given was to see yourself and God rightly.

The most effective way to see yourself rightly is to see God rightly.

When we get caught up in the larger story of God, we see how small we truly are. Prayer is downstream of revelation of God.

I am not sure if you have followed the recent NASA Artemus II space mission that sent four astronauts around the moon and back, but one of the most beautiful things about the mission has been the photos that have been sent back. Pictures of earth, the moon, space. It is in seeing these photos that we gain a grander, broader, and richer view of God — His power, majesty, creativity, and strength. It’s only in seeing God rightly that we can see ourselves rightly.

When we read the Scriptures and marvel at the redemptive story that God has been weaving throughout all of time, we see ourselves rightly.

When we see the sacrifice of Christ on the cross and look at the lashes given, the blood spilled, the sin worn, and the tomb rolled away, we cannot help but marvel at God. In doing so, we see God truly, and in turn, ourselves rightly.

If you find yourself reading this and your prayer life struggles, and you question your own humility, the first step for you should be to get a bigger picture of God. Go for a hike, lay on the grass and look up at the clouds, dive deep into the depths of Scripture. Get in church, listen to the church sing, read ancient Christian authors, listen to beautiful music. Do something to awaken wonder and awe toward God, and I can almost guarantee humility will rise within you, and prayer and worship will flow out of you.

This was David’s response as he lay staring up at the sky at night. He said in Psalm 8:3–4,

“When I look at the heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”

We desperately need more humble leaders on the earth today. We need more humble politicians, pastors, business leaders, and entrepreneurs. We need more humble parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts. We need more humble actors, creatives, painters, musicians, and worship leaders. We need more humble people, for in having more humble people, we will in turn get more praying people. If we get more praying people, we will see God more clearly.

One story that was brought to my attention in prayer this morning was the old familiar story of Christ dying on the cross—not an insignificant moment, I might add. Maybe it has to do with Easter on the horizon, but I believe it was the Lord bringing to my attention something we so often miss this holiday.

The seemingly insignificant fact: Christ died between two sinners.

There are plenty of lessons and hidden meanings in this odd historical moment.

One lesson from this unique detail in Scripture is that God was not only reconciling the relationship between God and man, but also man to each other. The dividing wall of hostility (Ephesians 2:14) that existed between God and man was being torn down (Matthew 27:50) through the shed blood of Jesus. Beyond that, the dividing wall between people was also being torn down. The animosity, anger, and hostility toward brothers was being done away with. The ability to forgive each other now hinged on the forgiveness Christ showed us. The cross of Jesus was not only for salvation and reconciliation to God, but reconciliation to each other—beautiful!

As I thought further about the fact that Jesus hung between two sinners, I questioned why it was included?

The God of the universe becoming flesh to die, then choosing to die a sinner’s death for sinners like you and me—why didn’t He just give that its own moment? Why wasn’t it simply God’s glory on full display, all alone on Calvary’s hill? Why die between two thieves? Why share that moment?

I think it teaches us a valuable lesson about God’s redemptive work—that is, His glory is most clearly put on display through our own death and resurrection. Christ’s glory is seen most notably when we climb up on that cross beside Him and die — spiritually speaking of course. Christ’s glory is magnified when sinners spiritually die alongside Him so that He might resurrect them.

It is the words of Paul in Galatians 2:20: “For I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.”

Paul had a revelation of the Man on the middle cross, and in that, had a revelation of his place in the story—right next to Him. Yes, we were also the ones chanting, “Crucify Him,” but beyond that, we are invited to die with Him. To hang on the cross next to Him, so that Christ might live in and through us. God’s glory is truly made perfect in our weakness.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer famously said, “When Christ bids a man, He bids him to come and die.”

Each and every one of us is given the opportunity to put our faith in Jesus—to believe that in His death and resurrection, we can have eternal life. However, the great act of faith does not end there. Our faith is then proven through our work of climbing up on the cross beside Him and allowing the full work of the crucifixion to kill all that is in us that is not of Him. This is what Paul so wonderfully declares in Romans 6:5–8:

“For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him.”

This revelation leads me to a loving criticism of the current culture we live in.

Now, I must be honest with you. I struggle so much with calling out large “groups” of people. The Lord knows the heart, and blanket statements about the church and its leaders are hard to make. They often prove to be inaccurate and are always difficult to nuance. So, I attempt to say this from the most humble place, believing that if we (myself included) understand this, we will see the glory of the Lord put on fuller display for the world to see. This we must understand: Christ is glorified in and through us, but most powerfully, when we truly get on the cross beside Him and die.

I think where the evangelical, seeker-sensitive church has at times gone wrong is that we point people to the cross—point them to the Man on Golgotha’s hill—yet, in doing so, find ourselves up on the hill beside Him, but not on the cross. We try to keep things PG. We try to keep the story cool, fashionable, and trendy. A cross isn’t cool—it is foolish.

Let me explain what I mean further.

I believe there are so many well-intentioned pastors, leaders, influencers, podcasters, and authors attempting to make Jesus famous. For many, their motivation was, and maybe is, pure. They just wanted to tell the world about the amazing work of Jesus. To share the good news. Yet, as they attempted to shine the light on Golgotha’s hill and the Man on the cross there, they intentionally shone a light on themselves. After crowds have gathered to see this gruesome event, we stand up on that cursed hill attempting to speak about this man, Jesus, while not allowing the full call of Christ to take place in our own spiritual lives. We find ourselves as leaders at the foot of the cross attempting to make Jesus famous, yet do not continue forward with Christ’s original call (Luke 9:23).

We find that standing on the mountainside, surrounded by crowds and pointing to Jesus, is an admirable place to be — it’s actual kind of cool. However, we look at the gruesome death of Christ and, in our avoidance of pain, refuse to climb up on the cross alongside Him. We point to Jesus, share the good news, yet do not realize that standing on Golgotha’s hill is not the full work of the gospel in us—it is only part. So we try to stand near the cross, but avoid hanging on it. We like the platform, the recognition, and the influence, but do not like the brutality or the pain.

This failure to allow the full work of the cross to take place in our hearts leads to a platform built that originally was made to reveal Christ, yet now becomes a shared platform for us as leaders. As we know from the prophet Isaiah, God does not share His glory with another (Isaiah 42:8).

We point to the marred and torn flesh of our Savior, Jesus Christ, while allowing parts of our flesh to live on. We spotlight the beauty of Christ choosing to set aside His own ambitions (Philippians 2), while allowing our own ambitions to fester within us. We celebrate His death and resurrection while not joining in it with Him.

In doing this, greed, fame, pride, insecurity, selfish ambition, and the approval of man are able to live on in us on Golgotha’s hill, when the purpose of the original climb was for those things to be put to death alongside Christ so that we might be spiritually resurrected. Again, the cross and its goal was to bring the body of sin to nothing so that we may not be enslaved to sin (Romans 6:6). The very freedom we proclaim in this death is freedom that many of us have not experienced in full. The profound mystery of the gospel is that we find life only in death.

It is this failure in us as leaders to truly crucify the flesh within us that pollutes the very message we claim to preach. It is sad to see the damage that has been done to the church and to Christ because the message we preach is a mixture of truth and flesh. It is a diluted message because, as we podcast or preach, we allow our sins to live on within us. We promote Christ while we promote ourselves. We elevate the cross while we evade our need to hang on it. We corrupt the good news by only living half of its message.

We as christians and church leaders must understand that the lights on stage, the influence on social media, and the big platforms we preach from are poison—a slow-release venom that can corrupt the heart unless the heart has already stopped beating. The glory of God revealed in and through us comes from a resurrected life. These temptations of the enemy carry little power if the flesh in us has already died.

I long for my own life, for the leaders of today and of the future, to be men and women who have had their desires crucified. Leaders in whom the spirit of mammon has died. Leaders whose desire for the approval of man has been drowned out by the voice of God. Leaders who do not seek platform, influence, money, or fame, but leaders who have one desire—to make Him, alone, famous!

My invitation to all of us this Easter season is to join in the resurrection of Christ through a willing soul crucifixion. Ask the Lord to point out the offensive ways in your heart (Psalm 139). Ask Him to make you clean (Psalm 51:10). Ask Him to purge you of any unrighteousness. Would we be people who live the full gospel, not simply talk about it. Would we be people who are okay with being hidden alone with God. Would we be people who have died, so that we might live.

It has been a while.

To sum up the last couple months since I have last written, the Lord has been doing a work on me around prayer.

There are many different things that have led me to this point. One, I have some family going through it right now that need prayer. Two, I had the privilege to join our staff in January and go to a conference in NYC that stirred me to prayer. Three, I have been jumping back in to reading E.M Bounds — good grief, is there anyone more schooled in the practice of prayer? Finally, I feel as though my own spiritual eyes have been opened to the spiritual warfare happening in our world today.

Yes, some of that comes from the constant political and economic uncertainty on the global scale, but more so, an increased revelation to the spiritual warfare happening in our own region of Northern Colorado.

Our church has leaned in more intentionally than I feel we have in the past to calling out the principalities and powers that dwell in this land. Things like the spirit of perversion, apathy, division, and greed. Because of this, I feel more aware of what is happening behind the curtain of the spiritual. Because of this increased revelation, I have felt a dramatic shift in my own prayer life.

For most of my life, my personal prayer life has been exactly that — personal.

It has revolved around me, my family, my ministry, or my direct needs or wants. That is not to say those prayers are wrong, or that the Lord is not honored by them. I still strongly believe that the Lord cares less about what we pray, more simply, that we pray.

However, in the same way children grow up and move onto maturity, I have felt as though my prayer life has graduated from elementary practices into a more adolescent stage. Let me assure you, it is far from fully mature. In fact, I do not think a fully mature prayer life exists on this side of eternity.

What the Lord has opened my eyes to is the spiritual war we are fighting and the need to have my prayer life match that same intensity. The call has been to wartime prayer. That is the language I have adopted, when in reality, it is simply more intercessory prayer.

The wild thing about intercessory prayer, and what has been so difficult for me to engage in it is how non “me” focused it is. At the core of Intercessory prayer is the practice of forgetting oneself, so that others can be lifted. That is a hard muscle to engage when most of my prayer life has been for me.

To be honest with you, I love my early mornings with the Lord. Just me, Him and a cup of coffee. There is nothing better — and I truly mean that. To sit, read, pray, ask the Lord what He is doing in my life and how I can better join Him is not a new practice for me. I have been quite disciplined in that area. My prayers have been far more introspective, far more listening prayers. But, with the revelation of spiritual warfare, it was necessary for my prayer life to shift from simple listening prayer to a more intense, more wartime-like prayer.

I still have the quiet still moments with the Lord in the morning, but when my daily reading plan is finished, and the coffee is almost empty, I have tried to shift what my prayer time looks like. I move from listening, reflecting, and journaling, to active intercession. To do this, I have decided to move from my cozy Eames chair that sits by the fireplace upstairs, down to the cold unfinished concrete basement with an old rocking chair where I engage in wartime prayer. This is where I am attempting to move beyond me, into prayer for others. The physical shift to a more uncomfortable environment has helped me immeasurably.

The start of this was difficult for me. I am not sure what your personal prayer life looks like, but a lot can be said in 5 minutes. I ran out of things quickly. But with the growing revelation of the spiritual war we live in, the more I have prayed.

I share this with you not for any attempt to sound impressive, but instead to show my own poverty that has existed in my own prayer life. I have been following hard after the Lord for over 15 years, and I feel like I am finally stepping into a more mature prayer life. I feel slightly embarrassed, but also, deeply excited for the future. Here, broken down more simply, is the revelation I have had on a heart level.

Ephesians 6:10-13 says, “Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”

I know for most of us that verse is all too familiar. We have heard it, but it has not changed the way we live.

Could it be that the political, economical, and social unrest is actually demonic attack? I know we get pinned for being crazy charismatics when we say that, but what if it is true?

Could it be that the complete spiral of the public school system is actually just fruit from years of hidden work from the cosmic powers of this present darkness?

Could it be that the rise of depression, anxiety, and suicidal (action and ideation) are just spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places?

The answer is yes! Now, I know some of you reading are like, “Yes, Caden, how have you not seen this... aren’t you a pastor?”

My answer to you is that I have seen it, but that I, and many others had taken a slightly passive role, and have chosen to fight with earthly weapons. We try to have more effective small groups, more teaching, and more 1-on-1 discipleship meetings to fix the issue. I think those help, but cannot be the only weapon we use. The carnal cannot slay the spiritual. We must fight with spiritual weapons.

2 Corinthians 10:4 says, “For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.”

Too often I had used earthly tools and methods to fight this, when I think the call for the believer, especially in times of war, is to retreat themselves into the secret place, and to engage in wartime prayer. Prayer that calls out the schemes of the enemy, and declares the plans, will, and methods of God. Wartime prayer is highly proactive.

This is the way I have visualized the shift for me.

I have for quite some time exercised regularly. I love exercise — particularly weight lifting. There is something so therapeutic about throwing some headphones in, straining your muscles, checking out your mind, and moving your body. I have exercised regularly for years, yet, I rarely engaged my heart in zones 3, 4, and 5. Let me explain.

If you are involved in the health community, these “zones” have been very much popularized again to the younger generation through Dr. Andrew Huberman, a neuroscientist at Stanford. He has mentioned the need to have exercises weekly that tap into all five zones. The zones he is speaking of are heart rate zones. Zone 1 would be a casual warm-up. That may be dynamic stretching or an incline walk. This zone gets your heart rate moderately up and allows for conversation during it. Zone 2 is slightly increased all the way to zone 5 which is incredibly high intensity for a short period of time. Consider this as an all-out sprint, or 30 seconds of full intensity on a heavy bag. This is 90-100% of max Heart Rate.

Oh, and let me tell you, I do not like zones 4 and 5, all while unconsciously avoiding zone 3. I like to keep things easy and comfortable. I can live up there for things like pick-up basketball, but my flesh avoids these zones because they are exhausting. I prefer to exercise in zone 2 and 3. Moving the muscles, but being able to have conversation while I do it.

I think for myself, and for many, our prayer life has lived in zones 1, 2, and 3.

I often go on prayer walks which is often a “zone 1 prayer time”. I walk, keep my spiritual heart rate under control, and listen to the Lord. Maybe I pray some things as they come to mind. This is not wrong, but cannot be the only form of spiritual exercise I engage in. Zone 2 would be a more intentional prayer time. This is often in our main auditorium at the Church. I pace along the front of the stage, pray out loud for whatever is pressing, maybe pray in my prayer language, but I can feel the intensity is slightly up. It is still a zone 2 or 3 prayer space with a little more intensity, but still settled. I could engage in this prayer for a while.

The wartime prayer that I am currently trying to engage in is more like a zone 4. It is an intentional set-apart time where I declare the works and plans of God over the region. At times it feels like a general attempting to command armies in a noisy area. I know that sounds silly, but that is how I have been visualizing it. This type of prayer gets my spiritual heart rate up, and I am only able to go for a bit before I get tired. Again, I know this sounds silly, but I think it is these types of prayers that must increase as the war we are in increases.

If I could guess, this is the “prayer spiritual muscle” within the church that is least engaged. Yet, I wonder if it is the most effective in wartime.

This prayer looks more like declaring the promises of God over regions. It is praying things like Isaiah 40:3,

“For I will pour water on the thirsty land and streams on the dry ground; I will pour my Spirit upon your offspring, and my blessing on your descendants.”

Wartime prayer is covenantal prayer, asking God to do what he has done again, in our region, in our day, in our lives. It is bold, unapologetic, fearless prayer. It is choosing to look the cosmic forces of evil in the eye and declaring the shed blood of Jesus over it. It is taking hold of heaven and refusing to let go until things change. Until things in the spiritual manifest in the physical.

My invitation to you: consider if your prayer life goes beyond short sentences, quiet breaths, and introspective listening. Maybe you as well are being invited into a more intense, proactive, wartime prayer.

I have little revelation about its effectiveness, nor do I have fruit to show for the labor, but I am believing that this shift in my heart is a shift the Lord is also trying to bring within His people.

Engage in wartime prayer this week — let me know how it goes.

If you have been engaging in this form of prayer for quite some time, please reach out, I am sure you have countless lessons and tips for me in my own journey.

Blessings,

For the past few weeks, I have been stuck on a few different passages of Scripture. The first is Jesus’ lesson after cursing the fig tree in Mark 11, the second is Jesus’ lesson on prayer in Luke 11, and finally, the parable of the persistent widow in Luke 18. Each story revolves around the theme of prayer.

The reason for taking so long to write this is because I have been unresolved on what all of these mean and how they apply to our everyday life. However, instead of presenting a fully polished, fully reasoned argument, I am going to present the question that has been swirling around in my mind. This is it: Is God less concerned about what we pray, and more concerned that we pray?

You may read that, scratch your head, and say, “Does that question really matter?” Or, “Caden, that really is not that profound—of course God just wants us to pray… move on.”

However, the more you think on the question, the more we see that our actions do not match our beliefs. We may say that we believe God cares only that we pray, but our actions reflect something very different in prayer. I digress. More on this later.

These three stories—what do they all have in common? First, prayer—yes, that is clear. But more than that, they connect three unique stories not only to prayer, but to persistent, faith-filled prayer.

The first story, the lesson of the fig tree, has gripped me for many reasons. The first being: why does Jesus get so angry at a fruitless fig tree that He curses it? There are many interpretations out there. Some say this is a lesson for the believer who doesn’t bear fruit—that they will be cast away by God, because evidence of our salvation in Christ is spiritual fruit. To that, I would say maybe… the reason being, that is not the lesson Jesus gives when asked about it.

Instead, this is Jesus’ lesson regarding the fig tree:

“Have faith in God. Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive your trespasses.”

That is a completely different lesson than I think the disciples were expecting. They were likely assuming He was going to talk about bearing fruit, and instead, He encourages them to have faith, ask for big things, pray, and then believe that they will be given to you.

What really strikes me about this passage is that Jesus is not coming off the heels of healing someone. He did not just perform a righteous miracle. Instead, He cursed a fig tree. He did not just bring justice to a widow or freedom to a captive—He cursed a regular old fig tree. And then He ties that act to faith and prayer.

This matters greatly because He is not tying prayer simply to “holy” things. He is not saying, ask for good kingdom things. No—at face value, He is saying to ask and believe the Lord for what could seem like insignificant things.

The next parable comes from Luke 11. The disciples ask Jesus to teach them to pray. He begins by sharing what we know as the Lord’s Prayer (“Your kingdom come, Your will be done”). He then follows that prayer with a parable about neighbors.

One neighbor has a surprise guest show up late at night but realizes he has no bread to give them. Keep in mind, hospitality was a far bigger deal in Ancient Near Eastern culture than it is today. In a panic, the neighbor runs to another neighbor at a late hour asking for bread. The story tells us that the neighbor does not get out of bed because they are friends, but because of his impudence—his shameless persistence. Literally, the neighbor responds because of this person’s lack of embarrassment in asking.

Jesus finishes this parable by saying that if we, as evil parents, still know how to give good gifts to our children, how much more does our heavenly Father know how to give good gifts to those who ask.

The third and final parable is the story of the persistent widow. This story centers around two characters: a widow demanding justice against her adversary, and an unjust judge who fears neither God nor man. This widow is so persistent in her requests that the judge eventually answers her. His reasoning is this:

“Yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will give her justice, so that she will not beat me down by her continual coming.”

In this story, the request is answered because the widow was, in a sense, annoying.

That brings us to where we are now.

Each of these passages describes prayer in ways that I think many believers do not fully understand. Even for myself, I was familiar with all of these stories, yet my prayer life did not reflect the same qualities. These stories are filled with bold faith and persistence—but more than that, they include seemingly insignificant requests (a cursed fig tree), prayers asked with no embarrassment or shame, and persistence to the point of annoyance.

If we inventoried our own prayer lives, I think most of us would find these three qualities almost completely missing.

I see a few reasons why. One is that we are afraid of participating in a “prosperity gospel” if we pray for things that are on our current needs or wants list. The problem with this is that there is prosperity in the gospel. I am not saying that if you speak a Rolls Royce into existence over and over you will get one. But I am saying that Scripture repeatedly teaches that the Lord provides for our needs. Even the lesson of the fig tree shows God responding to what seems like a pointless, insignificant request.

I am shocked by the mental gymnastics we as believers do. We read passages that should likely be taken more at face value, and we work hard to reinterpret them into something they were never intended to mean. Take the verses mentioned above. We read “ask and you shall receive” as if it means ask God for His will, and then He will do it. But that is not how the verse reads.

Or take Mark 11:

“Therefore, I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.”

We read that as, only when you ask for good, holy, pure, and perfect things. Again, we are adding to the text.

What we are doing is placing a religious “thinking on behalf of God” filter over our prayers—sorting them before we ever bring them to Him. But that has never been the gospel. The gospel has never been “clean yourself up before you come to God.” It has always been, “come to God, and He will clean you up.” Shouldn’t our prayer life reflect the same truth?

It is sad how much we filter out, thinking, I can’t pray that—it’s too small, too selfish, too insignificant, or not kingdom enough. Yet all of these stories reveal that we should pray any and everything that comes to mind. Too often we play God, worrying that He will be embarrassed by our prayers. The opposite is true. It is our lack of embarrassment that leads to God responding. It is bold faith that moves God.

So today, if you find yourself in need of a new car—pray for a new car. If you have four high school kids and the fridge you own is inconveniently small—pray for a new fridge. Do not religiously filter your prayers. Let God do the sorting.

We forget that God is all-knowing and all-wise. He can sort through your sinful wants and fleshly ambitions. If He doesn’t want to give you a car, guess what—He doesn’t have to. The goal of prayer is bringing everything to Him: the good, the bad, the ugly, the honest, the fleshly, the sinful, and the holy.

This is what leads me to my current thought: I think God is less concerned about what we pray, and more concerned that we pray.

It is in bringing everything to Him that He can begin to prune and refine our hearts. If a sinful prayer comes out, it has now been brought into the open, and the Holy Spirit can correct or redirect it. When a prayer for a new truck comes out, the Lord may instead fill you with gratitude for your current vehicle—and suddenly you recognize how good you already have it. Or maybe you do receive the truck, and now you can clearly associate that gift with the Lord.

We as believers are often intimidated to be honest with God, to let our true needs and wants surface. Yet God cares deeply about hearing those things. Psalm 34 declares:

“The young lions suffer want and hunger; but those who fear the Lord lack no good thing.”

God cares about both our wants and our needs. Bring them both to Him, and let Him do the sorting, convicting, correcting, and answering.

The goal of prayer is intimacy and honesty with God, not purity and perfection.

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“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.”

This ministry’s whole goal is to obey this verse — to help orphans and widows in their affliction.

I had always read this verse, but I never really had perspective on what it looked like on a large-scale ministry level. The only image I had of an orphanage was one I saw being built in Ensenada, Mexico, as a kid. I assumed it was simply a building that did its best to house and feed children. That was about it. And when it came to widows, I had never given significant thought to what serving them on a large scale even looked like. But visiting this ministry, my narrow view was about to expand — and expand greatly.

Walking onto the property of this orphanage, what I was immediately met with was the physical evidence of years of faithful obedience, manifested by fruit from God-sized prayers, all paired with visionary leaders committed to solving problems as they arose. What I expected was a building to house and feed children. What I saw was a compound with over 180 kids, 150 staff members, a church building, multiple children’s homes, a school, a health clinic, an aquaponics greenhouse, an avocado farm, and much more. What I saw was the fruit of God grabbing hold of visionary leaders who refused to build names for themselves or businesses for profit, but instead chose to build kingdom ministries that serve those closest to God’s heart. I was shocked, inspired, and deeply challenged by this ministry.

Two things struck me most.

The first was their ability to dream and believe God for big things. Every problem seemed to have a solution. When people were physically ill, they opened a health clinic, hired workers from the local village, and began serving orphans — many of whom came in with significant illnesses — while also blessing the surrounding community. It seemed as though for every new challenge, this ministry knew without a shadow of a doubt that God would provide the need, open the door, or solve the problem.

Take another situation: when COVID hit and food became scarce, they built an aquaponics greenhouse and planted avocado trees to become more self-sustainable. They didn’t allow the challenges of the day to hinder their vision — they allowed those challenges to expand it. Their faith made my faith feel small.

The second was the obvious favor of God resting on what they were doing. Checks would come in the mail to pay for property expansion. Churches and ministries volunteered to lay pavers, build widows’ homes, or support financially. There were even stories of the land itself producing fruit and crops beyond what was naturally possible. It was clear that God was breathing on this ministry, and you could feel the full pull of heaven’s wealth being poured over it. Yes, there were moments of need — but those needs always seemed to be met by the Lord, even if it was in the “final hour.”

Not only was the favor of God evident, but what I felt in my spirit as I walked the property was the pleasure of God — a profound sense that God was looking down on this ministry with a smile stretching cheek to cheek. It felt as though God was deeply proud of these leaders, the staff, and the ministry work being done. As we walked the property, I genuinely fought back tears while interacting with the kids and staff whose lives were — and will forever be — transformed by the work of the Lord through this ministry.

Coming home, the lessons I’ve taken from these ministries have challenged the way I view and interact with God personally and the way I lead. The first is this question: What does God care about most? Scripture is full of countless teachings, commands, and invitations — but if I could sum them up, what does God care about above all? Because encountering this ministry — seeing the vision, recognizing the favor, and experiencing His pleasure — challenged me. Being there made it clear that God cares about some things more than others. He cares deeply about widows, orphans, the least of these. He cares deeply about righteousness, purity, integrity, holiness. He cares about people.

All I know is that I want to please God. I want to care about the things He cares about. I want to give my time, talents, and treasures to the things He truly values. There are countless good things we can do and countless things we can support. But for me, I’m trying to go beyond “good” to God. What is central to Him as a person? What can I care about more — because He cares about it more? And what can I give less attention to — because He gives it less attention? I know most of this will be unique to everyone’s individual call, so for me, I am seeking God for clarity. What can I give my attention to that You care about deeply, and that You have specifically assigned to me?

Because although I know it’s not a hard-and-fast formula, it seems that when we live according to what God has uniquely called us to do, and when we prioritize what He prioritizes, we begin to experience the favor and pleasure of God in ways we could have never dreamed. And that is where I want to be. Smack dab in the middle of the will of God — both for my own life and for the larger redemptive story He is writing for humanity.

The downside, however, is that those small lessons often go forgotten. I’ll receive a little nugget from God, and not even days later I’ll find myself chasing after something else entirely. I’m often shocked by my own inability to remember the very lesson that God just taught me, pointed out, or challenged me to embrace.

This realization came to me last week while a few of us from staff were in Guatemala meeting with some of our missions partners. On the morning we left, I was reflecting on the many things God had spoken to me over the past year. Looking back through old journal entries, it was clear there was a recurring theme — one I had still not fully learned. Again and again, the Lord was challenging me to stop laboring for Him, and to start laboring with Him. To work alongside God in life and ministry — not as a hireling, but as a friend.

Other notes from those journals highlighted the same idea: to “care less” about certain things that are out of my control. Not to be careless, but to take less care for things that don’t ultimately matter. To trust that He is building His Church, leading His Kingdom, and that I’m simply one believer among many invited to co-labor with Him.

What I saw was the same lesson repeated in different forms — from small details in worship ministry to the larger way I live and serve God. In reflecting, I recognized my obsession with production — with doing, achieving, advancing, and moving the ball forward. Yet that very obsession was what the Lord had been trying to work out of me. He’s been teaching me to move at His speed, His pace, and to do only what He wants me to do. That, I’m realizing, is the great challenge of the Christian faith — learning to live on assignment.

Over this past year, He’s been inviting me to slow down, to work with Him, not for Him. Yet in my desire to do, I’ve missed the lesson again and again. The invitation has always been to walk alongside Him — to discover what He’s doing on the earth and then join in. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t written much in recent weeks. I’ve felt a quiet prompting from the Lord to write and release from overflow and revelation, not from routine, self-made goals, or deadlines.

So I invite you into the same lesson I’m learning — walk with God, don’t merely work for Him. Evaluate your own life and ask if there are any sinful obsessions with productivity or performance, when perhaps He’s inviting you instead to stop, wait, listen, and follow His lead.

Blessings,

CB

This is what the author says:

“Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.”

Because of the sacrifice of Jesus, we have now been given access to God through His blood. No longer is there separation between God and man. The old covenant carried with it ceremonial processes to become holy, yet those processes never did away with sin completely. Because of this, God and man remained separated. Man’s experience of God was veiled — forever incomplete, imperfect, and disrupted by the power of sin.

The new covenant, however, offers a new and better way. This is what the author of Hebrews so wonderfully reminds the believers: that once we were separated, but now we have been brought near. No longer must we fear entering into the Holy Place where God is, because we are hidden in Christ. His righteousness has now become our own. Because of the great and final sacrifice of Christ, we now have access to the Father. Therefore, we can boldly and confidently come to the throne of grace.

He continues on, saying we now have a great high priest — a new mediator who intercedes on our behalf. It is Jesus. No longer must we come to the Father through another man or thing. Instead, our mediator, the one who bridged the gap, is God Himself.

We mustn’t wait, then, on a pastor, parent, friend, professor, or leader to bring us into the presence of God. We can boldly come before the Lord. Do not depend simply on another person’s worship song, podcast, book, Substack, or teaching to lead you there. Come to the Lord today, and come confidently.

My encouragement to you all today: do not delay!

Do not let today slip by without coming before the Lord in prayer, in Scripture, and in heart. Every day that we delay, we fall back into old covenant methods — the very methods Christ died to tear down. He came so that we might access Him, and access Him quickly. No longer do we rely on the blood of animals or the mediation of priests; we rely only on the shed blood of Jesus and His resurrection.

So today, lean into this new and living relationship. Though it may not always be pretty or polished, and though yesterday you may have felt conquered by sin or apathy, allow His new morning mercies to meet you, and allow His peace to wash over you.

We must not delay to draw near, for the Lord eagerly waits to meet us — we must simply seek Him.

There are a plethora of reasons for the recent interest and study of the prophetic ministry space. One, I have come across a few things in my life personally that have heightened my awareness of the prophetic (a term I will use to encapsulate much of the supernatural/miraculous/spiritual gifts displayed in the church, rather than simply the gift or foreknowledge). Two, I have come across some scriptures that have grabbed my attention more than they have in the past. Three, I have friends and family who have been going through hardship that has forced me to move into the prayer/intercessory space more intentionally. Finally, I feel like I am at the highest level of personal discontentment in cookie cutter, safe, comfortable, church consuming, Christianity. All around I am hungry for deeper. I am hungry for more, and think the next step in that direction is stepping deeper into the uncharted waters of the Spirit and boldly attempting to walk in the gifts that He has given to the body.

As I have been studying this topic — I should just say the Holy Spirit — I have quickly realized how little the scriptures talk about all of it. There are not clear verses to show you the step by step guide to lead a healing prayer meeting. More just verses that there are healing giftings given to the body. Of course, we can look at the life of Jesus and His ministry as our model, but the details of how to apply it in church life today remain less clear.

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The conference itself was powerful! The teachings they gave, the insight they shared, and the power that rested on them was deeply stirring. The first day was filled with worship, conversation, prayer, and teaching, while the final session on the last day had something different in store…

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Read Consistently

Surprise, surprise—the more you read, the easier it becomes. All of a sudden you start making connections across books of the Bible. It really is similar to everything else we do: exercise, diet, hobbies. The more we do it, the better we become.

Often the reason the Bible feels dry is because we keep jumping in after 2–3 weeks off, and it’s exhausting. Having consistent times in Scripture makes things easier because you can pick up right where you left off yesterday. Like a conversation with a friend, if you speak often, you can carry on from yesterday instead of starting with shallow small talk. When we consistently read the Word, we can dive into the depths of Scripture immediately because we’re building off yesterday’s study.

Read with Your Current Season in Mind

I’m not going to lie—if you simply read the Bible as a history book, it can feel bland. But if you read it as a living document, it becomes exciting. When I read, I do so with the hope that it will inform the season I’m in right now.

We cannot forget that the Bible is “living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword” (Heb 4:12), and because it is living, it speaks to us in our present challenges. Surprise—God is speaking to you, and He cares about what you’re facing.

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Here’s a hypothetical example: let’s say I’m having a tough time at work. I’ve lost some passion for my job, and I’m struggling with coworkers (and those of us who work at churches never have internal issues… i’m kidding). Maybe I lack compassion, or I’ve built up anger. As I read, I’m looking for God to speak into that season. He may do it by highlighting a verse about compassion. Or more often, He corrects me, showing me I’m off base and acting ill-willed toward someone.

Too often we assume God’s Word is dated and out of touch with our specific situations. I would argue again and again that it’s not. I have countless testimonies of God’s Word speaking directly to what I needed in the moment, we just have to dig for it.

Search for the Golden Thread

When I read, I listen for God and expect Him to speak through His Word—because He does. I’ll read until something grabs me or until my allotted time is up. Sometimes it’s one or two verses; sometimes it’s twenty chapters.

When a verse pops off the page or causes me to stop and think, I start “pulling on that thread.” I might use my phone or computer to search cross-references, dig into the Hebrew or Greek, or grab my Matthew Henry commentary. I often use tools like BlueLetterBible.com or watch a Bible Project video. That thread might lead me to a different book entirely.

The key is not to get lost scrolling. Put on “Do Not Disturb” and stay focused. The process continues as long as you want—consider the context, pray, check cross-references, rinse and repeat. If the thread leads nowhere, just jump back into your reading plan.

Journal as You Go

Journaling is a great way to chew on the Word. Sometimes you need to get your thoughts on paper. For internal processors, this externalizes what’s swirling around. Maybe a verse stands out—write it down, then reflect on why it grabbed you.

External processors are probably already doing this! But either way, physically interacting with Scripture helps break the habit of reading it like any other book. Journaling helps us treat this Book differently.

Fight to Avoid Discouragement

When—not if—Scripture feels dry, or you hit a stretch that doesn’t resonate, don’t get discouraged. Keep pressing in, keep reading, and trust that God will speak. Too often breakthrough comes right on the other side of boredom, exhaustion, or disinterest. Remember His promise: if we draw near to Him, He will draw near to us (James 4:8). That applies to His Word too.

Trust It Nourishes Even When You Don’t Remember It

People often say, “Why keep reading if I can’t even remember what I read that day?” I resonate with that. But remember—the Bible is not like other books. It nourishes you whether you recall it or not.

Pastor Bill Johnson once said something like, “I don’t remember what I ate last Thursday, but did it nourish me?” The Bible is spiritual food. Jesus declared He is the bread of life. Even if you don’t remember last week’s “meal,” it still nourished your soul.

We can trust God’s Word never returns void. Jesus put it plainly in Matthew 4: “Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” He was declaring that physical food isn’t enough—you need God’s Word to sustain you.

Make It Easier on Yourself

When you hit a tough section—Leviticus, Ezekiel, or Revelation—pair it with something you enjoy. For me, that’s always one of the Gospels and the Psalms. In fact, I never stop reading them. Even when I’m in a year-long plan starting in Genesis, I sprinkle in a Psalm or a chapter from a Gospel.

This ensures I don’t hit a dry stretch with nothing quickly accessible nearby. Of course, I’d argue there’s richness in every passage of Scripture, but sometimes we need to make things easier on ourselves—especially if we’re struggling with consistency.

Think of it like a cheat snack on a diet. Stick with the plan, but include something sweet along the way.

Too often we try muscling through difficult passages, burn out, and quit. Then it’s even harder to pick the plan back up later.

The goal, as always, is to read the Bible and spend time with Jesus. So don’t feel guilty about “rigging” your time in order to stay consistent.

But this conversation, though it be with young men, is a conversation that happens all over — men, women, young and old alike. What are we supposed to do in this life? What is our purpose? If you take the question more broadly, most people, especially Christians, can answer it: to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. But if you try to sharpen and individualize that purpose, and then fit it into the confines of society, work, and the daily grind, it is more difficult. The reason is that what you do does play a big role in your purpose.

I am sure this question of purpose, calling, or the “will of God for my life” is nothing new. People throughout history have been asking it. However, in today’s social media and podcast driven world, the emphasis to “do what you want,” “find your skillset,” or “follow your heart” is so prevalent. I wonder at times if the new “god” many people worship is the never-ending search to find their “calling.” It is the pursuit of self — and beyond that — the pursuit of the future, ideal, perfect self. Again, something I myself have to fight against.

For some reason, though, we do not really see in Scripture Christ mention today’s popular topic of “discovering your calling.” He invites all into the grander, larger purpose of man (glorify God, make disciples of all nations, love God, love one another, etc.), but does not dive very deep into our individual callings. I still have yet to find a personality type or test in Scripture. He has given the church gifts for the edification of the church, but that is about it. Of course he has uniquely wired you, but again, an emphasis that is not often seen in scripture.

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The challenge, however, is that even for a pastor who has walked with the Lord for a while, prayer can feel weaker than it should be—or at least weaker than it could be. I think this is true of most believers. When we are finally moved to pray and begin to pray, we quickly realize how little we actually pray. It can be oddly disheartening.

I think one reason prayer feels disheartening is because in prayer we begin to see just how beautiful and powerful it really is. The more we pray, the more we see its power. And as we see its power, we become aware of how many things need to be lifted up but often aren’t. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed: should prayer be many things lifted briefly, or a few things prayed for often? I think the answer is both, but that doesn’t make the tension any easier.

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There is something about this concept that grates against today’s culture — or every culture, for that matter. It runs contrary to the flesh within us. Repentance requires humility, ownership, and adopting a new mindset. It requires action, but in ways contrary to our current preferences. It is a 180-degree turn away from something and toward something greater — Christ.

King Manasseh of Israel had quite the repentance story.

He followed King Hezekiah, who was a reformer and led the way to Israel’s return to God. Hezekiah set up altars of worship to Yahweh and did what was right in the sight of God. Though he struggled with pride along the way, he lived a life devoted to God and led a nation back to covenantal living.

Manasseh had a different story. After taking over rule, he did what was evil in the sight of God. He built quite the résumé — then again, it feels difficult to judge a king who reigned for 55 years and took control of the throne at 12. This is what the Scriptures tell us:

• He did what was evil in the sight of the Lord and followed the abominations of the nations that the Lord drove out before the people of Israel (2 Chron. 33:2).

• He rebuilt the high places (places of worship) that the former king tore down (33:3).

• He erected altars to Baal and made Asheroth, and worshiped all the host of heaven (33:3).

• He built altars in the house of the Lord (33:4).

• He burned his sons as an offering in the Valley of the Son of Hinnom (33:5).

• He used fortune-telling, omens, sorcery, mediums, and necromancers (33:6).

• He placed a carved image of an idol in the house of God (33:7).

Wow. Manasseh seemed to be corrupt in every way.

Yet, the gripping part of the story is not his great sin, but instead God’s great mercy. We see now how God does not abandon Israel — though His methods would make you consider it — instead He gets their attention to bring them back into right relationship. This is what it says following the list of sinful things Manasseh had implemented:

“The Lord spoke to Manasseh and to his people, but they paid no attention…” (2 Chronicles 33:10)

Now, I would imagine (and pray) that none of us have done the things that Manasseh did, but maybe we can consider on a much smaller scale the evil in our own lives: the sins we have committed, the sins of omission, the subtle evil thoughts that enter our minds, or the harmful words that leave our mouths. We all have been led astray at times to follow our own wicked desires. Yet, if we were to take a moment and reflect, I can promise you that in the same way God tried to get Manasseh’s attention, He has tried to get yours.

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God is a loving, merciful Father who never wishes destruction upon His servants. However, because He is so merciful, He will not allow us to stay where He found us. He is always calling us into greater intimacy, holiness, and obedience. Yet, because of our own wayward hearts and sinful ambitions, we do not hear the still small voice that is drawing us. We silence the voice. We give permission to the sin within us to take residence, and in doing so, begin to harden our hearts to the word of the Lord (Romans 1:10). Because of this great rebellion, the Lord screams even louder. He does this mostly through suffering. C. S. Lewis declares this in his book The Problem of Pain:

“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”

This is the case for Manasseh, and is often true for us. Look at what God does next:

“Therefore the Lord brought upon them the commanders of the army of the king of Assyria, who captured Manasseh with hooks and bound him with chains of bronze and brought him to Babylon.” (2 Chronicles 33:11)

God, in an attempt to save His children, will not withhold suffering or discipline. It is the loving parent who disciplines their kids when they have fallen prey to sinful action. God often uses suffering as a way to drive us to our knees. At times, suffering is the only thing that will get us to lift our attention to Him. It may sound severe, but pain, suffering, hardship, or seasons of dryness are often just subtle mercies sent our way by the Almighty. They are often the remedy needed to heal a sick heart. They are the alarm to arouse a sleeping soul.

Consider now your own life. Where in your spiritual journey have you gone astray? Have you allowed evil ambition, sin, or bitterness to take root in your heart? Recognize the Lord’s mercies. It is quite possible the Lord has been speaking up to this point; we have just been hard of hearing. Now He may be using more aggressive measures to get our attention.

Finally, look at Manasseh’s beautiful turn to repentance:

“And when he (Manasseh) was in distress, he entreated the favor of the Lord his God and humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers. He prayed to him, and God was moved by his entreaty and heard his plea and brought him again to Jerusalem into his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew that the Lord was God.” (2 Chronicles 33:12–13)

That must be one of the most beautiful pictures of God’s open invitation to right relationship and man’s quick response. Manasseh humbled himself under the mighty hand of God, and God exalted him (1 Peter 5:6). He saw the suffering for what it was: a chance to turn to God. God’s megaphone caught a sinful man’s attention and led him to his knees, to a place of prayer and repentance.

God, being rich in mercy, cast Manasseh’s sin as far as the east is from the west and established him in his former state. He loosed the chains that once bound him, delivered him from his enemies, and restored him to his kingly call.

This is the same invitation for every person. We are invited into right relationship, to be freed from our own spiritual shackles, and to be welcomed back into the courts of the King. We must only turn to God with a pure heart and choose to humble ourselves under His sovereign hand.

Let us not make repentance a small act, but let us also not make it larger than it must be. Repentance is a beautiful returning to right relationship and right thinking. Leaving sin to follow Christ is no small decision. Yet, let us not make it bigger than it must be. We do not need to feel ashamed of recognizing our own sin or shortcomings. Instead, we should be people who are constantly repenting, turning, and walking in right thinking. This is what Christ says in Matthew 3:8:

“Bear fruit in keeping with repentance.”

The way we continue to look like Christ and bear the fruit of the Spirit is by keeping repentance close to our hearts. When a friend calls out an unhealthy tendency, do not allow shame or embarrassment to cloud the purpose. The purpose is to repent, turn, and walk in the freedom Christ has promised.

Finally, following Manasseh’s great repentance, he tore down the altars that he himself had set up and reestablished worship of Yahweh alone.

Let us carry the same spirit, and be willing to look foolish by tearing down the very things we may have built. Let us not be prideful and delay the opportunity to follow Christ’s plan for our lives. Whether it’s in the way we run a business, implement a policy, or set new rhythms at home—whatever it may be—let us turn to God, repent, and make the changes He reveals. This is all God’s great mercy toward us, and we must not delay in welcoming that mercy into our lives.

Take a moment today to ask the Holy Spirit to reveal if there are any areas in you that are off. Next, read these two verses from the Psalms and wait for Him to speak:

“Search me, O God, and know my heart!
Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any grievous way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting!” (Psalm 139:23–24)

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
be acceptable in your sight,
O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.” (Psalm 19:14)

I am not sure why this concept has captivated me so deeply. Part of it, I think, is that we do not use this language very often in our relationship with Christ. We use language like “quiet time” or “devotional,” or more common words like prayer, worship, study, etc. But there is meaning in this ancient phrase that should mark every believer—meaning that, I wonder, we have at times lost.

The first time this phrase appears in Scripture is in Exodus 28:1. God had just given the Israelites His plans: that He would be their God, they would be His people, and He would dwell among them. In making this covenant, He selected Aaron, his sons, and the tribe of Levi to serve as priests in the Tabernacle. He said:

“Now take Aaron your brother, and his sons with him, from among the children of Israel, that he may minister to Me as priest—Aaron and Aaron’s sons...”

This concept of ministering to God is echoed repeatedly throughout the Old Testament. It was the defining quality of the Levitical priests: they ministered to God.

But have you ever taken a moment to really think about that phrasing, the concept, and how it could apply today?

Maybe your immediate response is to say: “The old covenant is done away with, therefore the concept of ministering to the Lord as priests is also gone.”

Or maybe you’ve never studied it at all.

Peter declares a continuation of the priesthood under the new covenant—one that stretches beyond tribal differences and beyond animal sacrifice. One that we must understand and practice.

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For context, I am a worship pastor at my local church here in Loveland, CO. I just recently reached my 6-year work anniversary. Before that I was an itinerant guest worship leader for small local churches throughout Northern Colorado, and before that I was on staff as the Worship Director at my dad’s church.

My hope is to provoke worship leaders, but hope this also encourages pastors and everyday believers as well.

If you haven’t felt it, it seems that the church (speaking about mainline Protestant–evangelical churches) has gone through lots of iterations and changes in the way we do worship. Not to give a full history of contemporary worship, but from my personal experience, it seems that we have moved from songs primarily focused on intimacy (80s/90s and even early 2000s, dominated by the Vineyard movement), onto more evangelistic songs of the 2010s, then on to what feels like a movement toward greater intensity. Songs today are punchy, loud, emotional, and stirring — again, that is not a negative statement. Most of these types of songs carry those qualities either through the lyrics written, the music attached to them, or both.

The concern I have in regard to the type of songs we sing is that sometimes I wonder what our target is.

The songs I have felt to be the most prevalent in my own upbringing were songs often focused on me — the individual. Maybe this was an attempt by more seeker-sensitive churches, worship teams, and songwriters to make worship more accessible to the non-believer, which I admire in heart, but completely disagree with in method. Many of these songs said what we were going to do for God, or what God would do for us, or, straight up, just talked about us — a lot. Many of these songs also included a strong emphasis on personal breakthrough and victory, which is not wrong, but again, to me, feels like it should be secondary focus. Finally, many of these songs included language of singing about God, rather than to God. Again, not wrong, but missing the bigger purpose.

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Now, I think there is a place for more “horizontal” songs in our church. Colossians 3:16 would make an argument for that; it reads:

“Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.”

The songs we sing have a role in encouraging, challenging, and teaching the everyday believer. We can and should do this through singing Psalms (Scripture), hymns (the modern song), and spiritual songs (which I would argue are fresh, spontaneous songs of the individual, either in human tongue or a tongue of the Spirit). But I feel at times we have lost the finishing statement of the verse: to God. Is it possible that the way we encourage and admonish one another is not through singing songs toward each other, but instead singing songs to God?

Worship — as it has become a genre — has become pretty all-encompassing. It is prayer put to melody, prophecy put to music, and it has to resonate with everyone in their own spiritual journey. We have people pushing for more songs of lament in Sunday gatherings (which I tend to disagree with, but that is another topic of discussion), and at times, I wonder: what does God actually want us to sing on a Sunday? What types of songs would He recommend? What songs does He want?

I know there are arguments for singing anything in the Psalter, but I think there should be even more intentionality to the songs we sing and write for the corporate gathering of the saints. I love the Psalms, but I actually think their purpose is larger than the corporate Sunday gathering. They help us navigate the winding emotions of the human heart, show us how to pray and how to worship. They show us we can be honest with God and that no emotion, pain, hardship, or thought is too great or shocking for the Almighty. But I also do not think we should be singing about dashing babies against stones, or singing about God breaking the teeth of the wicked on a Sunday — two statements that show up in the Psalms (137:9, 3:7). So we pick and choose Psalms? I believe that the verses mentioned above have purpose as they help us pray, and show that a cry for justice is appropriate, but should it be a regular rotation within a Sunday? Again, this feels lack it lacks clarity.

So what then should guide the type of songs we sing?

Of course, we should not be too algorithmic with this, nor should we create hard and fast rules. I just want to present some ideas, because I believe we as worship pastors should be building and raising up worshipers whom the Father is seeking — because he is seeking a certain type of worshiper.

John 4:24 emphasizes this concept that God is looking for a certain type of worshipper. It reads:

“But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.”

Now, I understand the Greek word here for worshiper is not speaking directly to singing songs. However, it reveals to me that God is, in fact, looking for certain people. Could it also be assumed that God is looking for a certain type of praise and worship in our day today?

That leads me to my own framework in how I select songs on a given Sunday.

First, God is building something. It is the duty of the pastor and leader to find the blueprint — to discover what and how God is building on the earth today. I believe at times we as worship leaders are too quick to copy secular solutions rather than looking to Christ. We implement technology, sing CCLI top-rated songs often without giving them any prayerful thought, let alone Scripture study. That needs to change.

So what is God building? I’m glad you asked.

Amos 9:11 speaks clearly and profoundly about what God is building — or should I say, rebuilding:

“In that day I will raise up the booth of David that is fallen and repair its breaches, and raise up its ruins and rebuild it as in the days of old.”

The ‘booth’ or ‘tent’ here points back to David’s tabernacle—an unprecedented place of worship and constant praise around the presence of God. The New Testament (Acts 15:16) even applies this promise to the inclusion of all nations in the worship of Jesus.

The day God is speaking of is today. It is the age following Jesus — the age of the church. He is rebuilding the booth, or the tent, that David built.

I know for myself, I want to build in lockstep with what God is building. I don’t want to disciple worshipers into something contrary to what God is wanting. I am not wanting to build an auditorium, dwelling place, or booth that looks different from heaven’s blueprint. Since God is rebuilding what David built, we should start there.

That verse then led me to the story of David — how he led worship and praise in ancient Israel. That led me to 1 Chronicles 16:4. If you are unfamiliar with the story, David had just brought the presence of God into Israel and built a tent for God — which sounds oddly similar to the prophecy given in Amos. After the presence of God was placed in the tent, this is what David did:

“Then he (David) appointed some of the Levites as ministers before the ark of the Lord, to invoke, to thank, and to praise the Lord, the God of Israel.”

David established worship around three practices: invoking God’s name (zākar — commemoration and desire), giving thanks (yādâ—acknowledgment and remembrance with raised hands), and praising Him (hālal—boasting and celebrating His greatness).

I love the modern worship world. I’m grateful for the many songs we have. But I want to challenge us: worship is not fundamentally for us—it’s for Him. Worship is ascribing worth to His name. We are called to be “ministers before the presence of the Lord.”

That’s why my framework focuses on songs of desire, thankfulness, and praise. Those drive the type of songs we sing. Of course, be Spirit-led. If your congregation just went through a terrible tragedy, consider including some form of lament. If your church is believing for something big, sing the big prophetic breakthrough songs. But my ask is that we as leaders maintain a balanced diet in the songs we sing, and build in the way God designed. Sing songs of desire — songs of longing for more of Him. Sing songs of thankfulness and remembrance — do not forget what the Lord has done for us, both in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and in what He is actively doing in our lives today. Finally, praise Him for who He is. Tell His character back to Him. Worship and praise the wonderful God we have relationship with.

My final charge: we as believers think about ourselves non-stop all week — from what we are going to wear, to what we are going to eat, to what we want to do on a given day. I would present to you that the best thing we could do in a weekend gathering is take 15, 25 or 45 minutes (or how much time you have been allotted) and simply think about, sing about, and look to God — His beauty, majesty, and splendor. Let that be the core focus of the worship.

Because the profound mystery of worship is that as we sing we become more and more like Him. The songs we sing have power. The truth we declare changes us. So we must be careful when considering the songs of praise that we sing. They should magnify His name, not our own. Be pastoral in the way you select songs, but let the focus and the hero of the story always be Jesus.

I am struck by how many times we see kings in Scripture who did not set their hearts to seek the Lord. They did not “tear down the high places of worship,” but instead gave their hearts away to other gods. This failure in leadership always led to downfall, destruction, or captivity for the Israelite nation.

But then, as you keep reading, you come across the few kings who did the opposite — those who set their hearts to seek the Lord. With most of these kings, their decision led Israel into blessing and prosperity.

The phrase “set his heart to seek the Lord” grips me every time I read it. I think the reason is because it runs so counter to the culture we live in today.

Today’s culture says, follow your heart. It encourages following emotion, pleasure, and personal satisfaction — in other words, the flesh. Allowing these things to drive your life.

The kings of old — at least the good ones — understood that the heart could be directed. I am not sure by what exact force (I assume a mixture of spirit, mind, strength, and the Word), but it could be led either down the wrong path or the right one. That is profound — and largely missing in today’s world. The idea that we can lead the heart. That we can direct our emotions toward what is true, right, and honorable. That we can choose to live in ways contrary to the flesh.

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What I mean is that we have allowed our own fleshly wants to dominate the way we treat church. We have allowed the spirit of “the customer knows best” to subtly infiltrate the way we interact with church.

Too often we show up on a Sunday morning with the corrosive belief that Sundays are for me. We expect to be greeted at the door—whether we like it or not. We look for the coffee bar in the lobby with hopes it will wake us up. We expect worship to be interesting, entertaining, and filled with our preferred songs. We expect the sermon to be uplifting and encouraging, but not too convicting or challenging. We expect the service to end on time, the kids’ pickup line to move quickly, and the parking lot to send us on our way smoothly and kindly.

The problem? These are the same expectations we bring to Starbucks or Chick-fil-A. Those are capitalistic products sold to consumers. Their concern is customer satisfaction and consumption. But the church is nothing like that—it should look nothing like that. The church is many things, but what it is not is a product to be consumed. It is a gathering place for God and His people. It is a place to meet with the Almighty.

This is why a verse like this is so stirring and convicting for me. In 2 Chronicles 2, Solomon paints a picture of what the temple of God should look like and what one of its defining purposes is—I would argue its first and most important: a place to make offerings before God.

“The house that I am to build will be great, for our God is greater than all gods. But who is able to build Him a house, since heaven, even highest heaven, cannot contain him? Who am I to build a house for Him except as a place to make offerings before Him.” — 2 Chronicles 2:5–6

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