I gained over 40 pounds with our first and second child. The weight brought me a host of new issues: brain fog, addiction to sugar, inflammation, and a desire to hide. I reached a mental and physical all-time low. I coped with the hardships of ministry and life with pints of ice cream. Not that ice cream is evil, but I used it like medicine for a deeper ache. I never stopped to ask whether my eating habits were godly or whether my weight reflected a spiritual problem. I gave no thought to how my food choices, my Netflix habits, and even my friendships were shaping my life and ministry. I have found throughout the years that these feelings and bad habits were more common than I believed.

The question I want to pose is this: Is it a sin to be overweight?

We must first recognize that being overweight is not, in itself, the sin. Excess weight is a result, not the root issue. It may arise from habitual overconsumption, a sedentary lifestyle, or it may be caused by legitimate medical conditions, medications, hormonal disorders, or other factors beyond a person’s immediate control.

Because weight gain is so visible, it is easy to assume it is always the product of a lack of discipline or self-control. But we should be careful not to jump to conclusions or render a verdict before we have all the facts. Scripture repeatedly warns against judging by outward appearance or making premature assessments. Wisdom requires that we distinguish between the visible outcome and the underlying cause before making any moral evaluation.

Harsh reality

According to leading health experts, more than 2 in 5 American adults (roughly 42–43%) are classified as obese based on the traditional Body Mass Index (BMI). Nearly three out of every four Americans are considered overweight.

These statistics reveal both

a blessing and a curse.

The United States is blessed with an extraordinary abundance of food. Most of us have pantries full of options, grocery stores overflowing with choices, and restaurants on nearly every corner. This abundance is a gift from God, one for which we should be genuinely thankful.

That reality becomes even more apparent when you travel. While visiting the island of Mindoro in the Philippines, I met people whose diet consisted almost entirely of rice and whatever fish they were able to catch that day. In parts of Africa, many families eat the same simple meal every day because it is all they can afford or all that is available. They are not choosing from dozens of cereals, snack foods, and desserts. They are simply trying to eat.

Abundance, then, is not the problem. In fact, it is a blessing.

The blessing becomes a curse only when we lose mastery over our appetites. When comfort, pleasure, and ease become our highest pursuits, we slowly become enslaved to the very things that were meant to serve us. Food, which was given by God to sustain and delight us, becomes a cruel master.

The apostle Paul describes such people with sobering words: “Their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things” (Philippians 3:19, ESV). His concern is not merely with food but with misplaced worship. Whenever our appetites rule us rather than Christ, they reveal that something other than God has taken the throne of our hearts.

The issue, then, is not simply what is on our plate. It is what reigns in our hearts.

Gluttony

I cannot tell you how many slices of pizza are too many. If I ate across the table from you I could not determine when you are full. Self-control is a one Vs. One game. The issue is not food. The issue is mastery.

Paul writes elsewhere, “All things are lawful for me, but I will not be dominated by anything” (1 Corinthians 6:12, ESV). That principle reaches far beyond food. Anything that consistently masters us whether food, alcohol, entertainment, social media, work, or comfort has become a rival to Christ’s lordship.

Gluttony also reveals a failure of self-control. Self-control is not merely a personality trait; it is a fruit of the Holy Spirit (Galatians 5:22–23). As the Spirit sanctifies us, He teaches us to say no to sinful desires and yes to what pleases God. Every small act of discipline, stopping when we have had enough, refusing to eat out of boredom, choosing nourishment over indulgence, is an act of worship that declares, “My body does not rule me. Christ does.”

I lost all my weight in the span of a year and have kept it off for the last 8 years. Eating clean and exercise has improved not only my life but the lives of others around me. Obedience brings joy and self control produces of a harvest that others will feast from.

May the Lord grant you wisdom and, by His Holy Spirit, give you the strength to master your appetites, so that you may be mastered by the Lord Jesus Christ alone.

May Christ reign over your mind, your heart, and even your table. May your body become an instrument of righteousness, your self-control a testimony of His sanctifying grace, and your life a reflection of the One who alone is worthy of your worship.

We started in Los Angeles, where I had the opportunity to preach at one of our partner churches. From there, we headed 5½ hours north to Yosemite Valley. We hiked Sentinel Dome, swam in the Merced River, tackled the Mist Trail, wandered among the giant sequoias, and ate all the pizza we could at Curry Village.

Next, we traveled 4½ hours to Lake Tahoe. We plunged into the crystal-clear, glacial water and spent two days hiking around the lake. The sun was shining, but the mountains still clung to patches of snow and ice—a reminder of the elevation that surrounded us.

After a full week in California, we turned our attention to Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana. The 10½-hour drive felt like a celebration of America’s 250th birthday. The landscape was breathtaking, and every mile reminded us just how beautiful this country is.

In Yellowstone, we hiked alongside a herd of bison, coming within just a few feet of several of them (#DontPetTheFluffyCow). We spotted elk, mule deer, and even leeches. The kids decided to go swimming and came out with a few unexpected new friends attached to their legs.

My brother-in-law, Brandon Quinn, and I climbed Mount Jefferson. Standing on the summit, taking in the endless views, almost brought me to tears.

The final days of our journey were spent beneath the mighty Tetons—majestic peaks rising above stunning alpine lakes. We wrapped up the trip by riding ATVs through the sand dunes.

We’re exhausted, but the memories we made together will stay with us for a lifetime.

My wife and I know that our time with our children is passing quickly. In just a few days, our oldest will turn 13, and before we know it, we’ll be sending each of them out into the world. We don’t take for granted the privilege God has given us to raise them.

I’ve come to believe that one of the greatest gifts you can give your children is a future nostalgia,

a treasury of memories they’ll carry with them for the rest of their lives. I want to plant a bedrock of wild adventures in their hearts so that one day, when life grows heavy and the road becomes difficult, they’ll remember the quiet meadows of Yosemite, jumping off a bridge into ice-cold water with their dad, or standing in awe beneath the towering Tetons.

Our calling as parents is to raise them, train them, and then faithfully deploy them into the world. My prayer is that when they look back, they won’t simply remember the places we visited, but the laughter we shared, the majesty we witnessed together, and the goodness of God that met us in every mile. May those memories cultivate in them hearts that are deeply grateful and lives that are firmly rooted in Christ.

I was nine years old when my Father was sharing the gospel with a family member on my mothers side. It was past my bedtime so I sat in the hall way out of sight listening to every word. This family member was a Druid and opposed everything he said. I’d heard the gospel many times up to this point but this particular night it became clear to me that I was the one who needed Jesus not just him. That night there was a terrible storm, radio alarms were sounding, tornado sirens rang through the house telling us to take cover. As a 9 year old child I remembered thinking that if we all perished in the storm my sin would separate me from Christ. This filled me with a fear of the Lord I had never felt, suddenly his majesty, Glory, and saving power opened my eyes. I cried out for my mother and confessed my sin and trusted in Christ as my savior. You would think that everything from that moment would be peachy but things got hard. When I was around the age of 14 ( freshman in highschool ) I experienced doubt like I never had before. The problem with being in such a loving Christian home was the idea of originality. I questioned the legitimacy and origin of my faith, I thought that it had been manufactured by the conditions of my upbringing. From the time I was born, I had been taught to believe in heaven and hell—that there are eternal consequences to the choices we make in this life. I was taught to fear God and never turn my back on Him. These beliefs shaped my childhood and guided many of my decisions.

But as I grew older, I began to wrestle with a difficult question: Were these convictions truly my own, or had I simply inherited them from those around me?

Could I trust my developing mind to really believe the claims of Jesus? I had a recurring nagging thought, “ What’s the possibility that out of all the religions in the world, Christianity got it right?” The dominating thought that derailed me sounded like this, “If my Dad were a Jew then I’d be a Jew, If my Dad were a Buddhiest then I’d be a Buddhiest.” This simple thought crippled me. It wasn’t a speedbump slowing me down, it was a brick wall that I couldn’t avoid. The logic of this thought drove me to the edge of sanity. It haunted me night and day. These thoughts were not provoked by another person. This was my wrestle, my fight, what did I actually believe? Over time these thoughts caused great harm to my zeal for the Lord. My prayers grew shorter, my readings became few and far between. I was at a crossroads and was too ashamed to ask for help. The love and respect for my Mother and Father kept me silent. I didn’t want to rock the boat if you will. I don’t remember when or how but two scriptures were beckoning me to think a bit deeper. The first was Matthew 7:7-8, “7 “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. 8 For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.” This statement isn’t one of hope, it’s an indicative statement that says if you ask truly, you will find. I knew that putting God to the test was wrong, but I admitted to God that I felt lost and desperately needed him to speak to me. The second thought came from the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 15:32- What do I gain if, humanly speaking, I fought with beasts at Ephesus? If the dead are not raised, “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.” Paul’s logic appealed to me. If Christ did not rise from the Dead then my faith is useless. I would be singing to sing, reading to read, meditating to meditate. There would be no real meaning to anything. IF Christ has not risen from the dead then I’m free and should pursue whatever I desire. But if Christ has been raised from the dead then I should bow my knee to King Jesus, conqueror of life and death. With these two thoughts I cried out to the Lord day and night to make himself known to me. I didn’t want to play the church game. I wanted Christ or I wanted to get on with my short meaningless existence.

This is the part where you either believe me and give God the glory or you think I’m insane and close this book now. One night I went to bed in my normal spiritual panic. Suddenly, I was awakened by a whisper. This whisper was absolutely terrifying, as if someone was in my room and put their mouth right up to my ear. The whisper said, “ IT’S IN HEBREWS.” I immediately jumped out of my bed and ran into my parents room telling them that someone had broken into the house. My Father jumped out of bed, ran into my room and searched every part of our house. Like a Navy Seal he quickly cleared our home and deemed it safe and me crazy. I sat on the edge of my bed thinking about the whisper I heard and what it could possibly mean. Suddenly, I remembered that there was a book in the Bible called Hebrews. Skeptically, I grabbed my Bible and opened it to the book of Hebrews and landed on Hebrews chapter 11. Hebrews Chapter 11 is known as the “Hall of Faith” it lists prophets, leaders, and faithful servants who all expressed genuine faith in God and were commended by their faith. When you boil down chapter 11 it’s clear that God is only pleased by those who come to him through faith. Demanding signs, demanding miracles was a constant request from the Pharisees and Sadducees. As I read through the great examples of faith it dawned on me that God was not going to write things out for me in the clouds. He had already done enough to give me all I needed for faith in Him. I remember laying in bed shaking, but to be honest not fully convinced. The next morning I woke up and wondered if God actually whispered in my ear and told me to go read the Bible or did the burrito I ate that night cause me to have a very strange dream. The Joy I experienced was short- lived. How could I trust a dream? That’s when God executed his finishing move on me. Still early, before breakfast I randomly opened my Bible and read Matthew 10:27- to my astonishment and slight terror it said, “Whatever I whisper into your ear at night, shout from the rooftops.” I sat frozen with genuine fear and awe. That moment is one I will never forget. Suddenly, my faith met assurance. What a sweet pleasure it is to know assurance. Those who have it wouldn’t trade it for anything in this life. The reality of Jesus was so clear to me in that moment that all time seemed to stand still. Reflecting back on this moment I am astonished that the grace of God would extend to a doubter like me. God doesn’t owe me anything, he doesn’t owe me or you a whisper, he didn’t have to help a wandering mind, yet with me he did and I am eternally grateful for it. That night he spoke kindly to me and offered me hope through his Son. One of the most profound truths that have stuck with me from that night is that the Bible is sufficient for all our troubles

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• Rural / Small town America is collapsing spiritually in many regions.

• Thousands of rural churches are aging, plateaued, or dying.

• Most networks focus on cities.

• The Rural Ministry must be trained in its context.

• Few leaders are intentionally raising rural pastors.

My name is Stephen Crenshaw. I’m a rural church pastor who was raised in a small church. Every time I hear that a local church is dying or on full life support I feel sick to my stomach. We must take seriously the work of sending qualified, gifted men into these communities. Too often, churches look elsewhere for leadership. Yet throughout Scripture, God repeatedly raises leaders from within His people.

The call to raise, train, and deploy leaders was given to the church. Outside institutions are supplementary, they are protein, the church is the muscle. Many churches today are trapped in a teaching paradigm (information transfer) rather than a training paradigm (skill development). The result is a generation of believers who have heard a lot of sermons, attended a lot of groups, but keep living their lives as if the curse doesn’t remain on Humanity. We need more foot soldiers.

For this reason I want to help churches intentionally develop leaders from within and send them out. The Bi-vocational / Contextually trained / reproducible model needs our attention.

The Problem- Where do I begin? Rural churches are often under-resourced, and many pastors labor in deep isolation. Some dying churches refuse to acknowledge their current condition or accept outside help. Young men rarely pursue rural ministry because of financial strain, limited support, and the perception that greater opportunities exist elsewhere. Meanwhile, most ministry networks, conferences, and resources prioritize more populated areas, leaving many rural pastors feeling forgotten and underserved.

The Solution- We need bi-vocational pastors who will work 40+ hours a week while patiently caring for churches on life support. Revitalization is often slow work. It is like feeding bone broth to a starving man, too much, too soon, can do more harm than good. These pastors will need income from outside the church, but they must also possess deep contextual knowledge of the communities they serve. They will need the wisdom of a physician and the precision of a surgeon, carefully working to restore vitality to small and struggling congregations.

Because of this, their training must be intensely practical, highly reproducible, and time-efficient.

My first focus is my own congregation. I pray that Victory Baptist Church in Shepherdsville, a church sitting four miles up a country road, surrounded by the beauty of rural Kentucky will become a training hub with a clear leadership pipeline focused on raising, equipping, and sending leaders into struggling and dying churches.

I want to gather a round table of knights and send them into the field. I want to build a sustainable network of brothers who understand the unique challenges and contextual realities of rural ministry. Men who are willing to embrace hard labor and a quiet life. Men who render true service willingly, not out of compulsion, personal ambition, or the praise of man, but out of love for Christ, His Church, and the advancement of His Kingdom.

The goal is simple: to see faithful shepherds raised up and sent into every hollow and every hill.

The solution is not another program, but a healthy local church functioning like the church at Antioch—raising, training, and sending men like Barnabas and Paul for the strengthening of Christ’s Church.

The Strategy- My strategy is to identify, train, and deploy leaders into these communities with intentionality and a clear mission. I believe healthy teams going together with a shared vision for strengthening and revitalizing local churches is vital.

To accomplish this, we must overcome several major challenges: sustainable financial support with Bi-vocational focus, practical revitalization and shepherding skills, care for the teams and staff, simplified and accessible leadership development pathways, and strong theological and ecclesiological grounding. The goal is to build durable, mission-minded leaders who are prepared to labor faithfully in difficult and often overlooked places.

Do you feel drawn to this work? Please shoot me a text at 502-536-0043

3 “Listen to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from before your birth, carried from the womb; 4 even to your old age I am he, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save.”

God declared that He alone stretched out the heavens and established the earth (Isa. 45:18). Time and time again, He tells us that there is no other god. He is the First and the Last, and there is none like Him. His sovereign, omniscient, omnipotent power stands alone.

Not many of us are good at anything alone. We need experts and skilled workers to help complete jobs of significance. Not so with God. There was no one to help Him establish the earth, scale the mountains, create the deep, or structure the human body. Therefore, He alone declares what is right.

There is not a single human who can remain outside the scope of Isaiah 46:3–4. We have been borne by God before our birth, which means that before our existence, God had already given thought and design to our creation. Not only has He given life to all mankind, He sustains it, bears it, and carries it. God does not create and then look away to start making something new. Everything He creates, He sustains, maintains, and carries. There is not a single shrub that is not groomed, not a blade of grass that has not been weighed, measured, and cut. He sustains every life He desires to live and upholds all things by His sovereign power.

The Sustainer is also the Savior. Even in old age, when gray hair appears and youthful strength begins to fade, His sustaining love never diminishes. As Isaiah declares, “Even to your old age I am he, and to gray hairs I will carry you” (Isaiah 46:4).

There is something remarkable about this truth: God is not merely the Creator of His people; He is also their Redeemer. The One who formed them did not abandon them. He who made them entered His creation, suffered for them, bled for them, and redeemed them. The hands that fashioned humanity were later pierced for humanity’s salvation. The Creator became the Savior, and the Sustainer carries His people from the cradle to the grave and into eternity.

If you feel isolated, broken, or in need of a friend, stop right now. Close your eyes, open your heart, and think about the only God who made you, carries you, and saves you. He has never lost sight of you. Even while you sleep, God never takes His eye off you. He watches over His people with unwavering care and sustaining love. Our greatest joy is found in Him, and our joy in Him exalts His name.

Seems to me that grounding oneself in the right frame of heart is more important than building and executing a well thought out strategy. This is also why the qualifications of a pastor rely more on his character than competency. There is no shortage of articles on modern growth strategies, assimilation processes, building robusts systems, even what items should be in visitor swag bags. Ask yourself, what is the motive behind your work? I think a great way to test our hearts is by asking the right questions?

• When was the last time I had unhurried communion with Jesus?

• When was the last time I confessed my Sin to another person?

• What dominates my thoughts?

• Can I honestly say that I have Passion and zeal for King Jesus and his coming kingdom?

I echo the words of G. K. Chesterton because I have felt my own heart and mind slip into unhealthy, unholy, and unbiblical patterns. Sometimes my aim is right, but my motive is wrong. And when that happens, everything becomes heavier and more complicated. I’ve come to learn the signs of this drift, I feel more weary, drained, uncertain and more distracted.

This is what happens when we detach from our first love. When Christ is no longer the center of our affection, ministry loses its flavor like bland chicken. Prayer becomes shallow and our service becomes burdensome. Even good work becomes exhausting when it is disconnected from delight in God.

The prophet Hosea described Israel’s love like “a morning cloud, like the dew that goes away early.” Temporary affection always produces instability. Fading love always weakens conviction, clarity, and endurance. When our love for Christ lasts only as long as the morning dew, so does the stability of our minds.

The answer is not more activity.The answer is repentance and a return. Return to Christ Himself. Do not make another plan, another strategy, another event until your heart is wholly set on Him.

If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love.” ( John 15:10, ESV)