But Jesus often withdrew to the wilderness for prayer. Luke 5:16

Observation

One simple verse contains the key to doing what Jesus did and finishing well the race of faith before us. In the middle of the miracles and ministry, demons and demands, arguments and attacks, Jesus had holy habits that kept Him close to the Father. If I want to do what Jesus did, I must continue to develop holy habits that keep me set apart for God’s will in the midst of a demanding world. The more public His ministry became, the more time He spent in private with His Father. Notice how the words reveal the spiritual disciplines Jesus exercised:

• Often – Daily consistency is key to developing any good habit. No more roller coaster Christianity where commitment is determined by convenience.

• Withdrew – Solitude, stillness, and silence are spiritual practices lost in our day, but essential to reconnecting and staying connected with Jesus.

• Wilderness – Fasting from the constant input of sights and sounds allows us to focus on what actually matters, prioritizing feeding our spirit over our flesh.

• Prayer – This constant conversation allowed Jesus to hear His Father above the noise. If we don’t train our ear to hear in the silence, what makes us think we’ll hear God in the chaos?

Application

You can’t rush a sunrise any more than you can rush the Spirit of God. Somehow, I walked right by this odd sight yesterday. Thankfully, the God of second chances opened my eyes to something I’ll never forget. Let me back up and explain.

Every year I come to visit my family in Bend, Oregon, and use it as a prayer retreat for the following year at The Father’s House. I plan out my messages based on what I feel the Holy Spirit is emphasizing. The High Desert is a different kind of beauty from San Diego, and I look forward to soaking it all in every time I visit.

Yesterday morning I woke up at 5 and was about to go back to sleep, but I heard the whisper of the Holy Spirit: “Let’s enjoy the sunrise together.” That was all I needed to shake off the sleep and head for the Deschutes River. The sunrise was truly spectacular, one of the most colorful and beautiful I can remember. Sadly, I was too caught up capturing it with my phone and missed what God was trying to show me. I love sharing the joy I’m experiencing with those I care about, whether it’s food, nature, or what God is saying but, in doing that, I walked right by what God was actually trying to show me. Later, I was convicted by the Holy Spirit that I’d skipped savoring our time together because I was so quick to share it with everyone else. The God of the Universe wanted to share that sunrise with me, and I spent it with everybody but Him.

So I determined to come out again this morning and not make the same mistake. I wasn’t going to record video, take pictures (except for the one below), or make a reel out of the experience. I chose to be present in the silence, solitude, and stillness of His presence. It was this morning that I saw what I’d been too busy to notice the day before.

I saw the park bench. I was about to walk right by it again. I have a lot to do today such as planning a sermon series for 2027 and preparing my message for Sunday. But I wasn’t going to make the same mistake and miss the sunrise with my Savior. So I sat down on that bench and just listened. Solitude, silence that ultimately became… surrender. That’s what it was.

Then I looked, and right in front of me was this... broken wreck of a bike. Chain off the gears. Parts and pieces scattered everywhere. One tire was missing; the other leaned up against the frame. In that moment I felt the warning of the Lord. Sometimes God benches me, not to punish me, but to preserve me, to save me from this bike rider’s fate. He calls me to slow down and listen so I don’t end up on my face, chain off, gears broken, wounded and burnt out like so many ministers around me. That’s why He calls me to this place daily. That’s why He calls me to just sit with the sunrise. You can’t rush a sunrise, and I can’t rush the work His Spirit is doing. In all the things I’m thinking and praying about right now for future ministry, family, and financial planning I must trust His timing. He never called me to make that all happen. That’s something Jesus is going to do through me and with me.

I love the thrill of being busy and going fast. The momentum, the thrill of wind in my hair as I race down the trail with a bold vision and mountains to ride through. But switching into that next gear and never stopping will wind me up in a heap just like this. I don’t know what happened to this poor soul. I don’t know if the tire was lost when the chain fell off, or if they went flying into the dirt path ahead just before the next hill. They left the wreckage behind, and I’m glad they did! This vivid image will be a poignant reminder that if I don’t sit and wait on the bench, I’m going to end up in a much worse situation.

The choice is before me every day: rush past the sunrise, or soak it in with my Savior?

So I sat on that bench for an hour, looking at the brokenness in front of me and the beauty around me, talking to Jesus and listening too. I was smelling the sage and the pine as the sun began to rise, coloring the sky. As soon as the sun crested the horizon, the geese took off, honking and flying down the Deschutes. The ducks began to float, the birds began to sing, and the sound of the rolling river seemed to grow louder. I heard a freight train off in the distance, but most importantly, I heard the sound of His still, small voice calling me back to Himself. I began to come alive as the warmth of the sun touched the weeping willows, ponderosa pines, and cottonwood trees. Why would I ever skip this?

Prayer

Jesus, I’m just breathing deep and taking it all in, realizing You did all of this just to be with me. I know not every morning is going to look like this one in Bend, Oregon. But every morning, every day, You call me to abide. You call me to be still and know that You are God, to choose not to rush the sunrise. Choosing the bench before the bike will keep reminding me that it’s not by might or power, but by Your Spirit that anything is accomplished. If I don’t want to crash and burn, I must continue to bench my ambitions and abide in You.

The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.” — John 21:17

Observation

I always love reading about Peter’s reactions because they remind me of my own. How often do we read of Peter disagreeing with God? How often does Jesus have to repeat Himself with Peter? Like a good teacher, Jesus is willing to repeat the lesson until it takes root in his heart. Jesus tells Peter he will deny him three times, and Peter says, “No, I won’t” (John 13:38) — and then he does (Luke 22:54-62). Jesus restores Peter to relationship and ministry by asking him three times, “Do you love me? Then feed my sheep” (John 21:18-19), the repetition bringing clarity that true ministry flows out of love. Then we read of Peter telling God “No, I won’t eat anything unclean” three times (Acts 10:14-17). Yet God, in his infinite patience, tells Peter three times, “Do not call something unclean if God has made it clean.” Peter had no idea that this repetition in the classroom of Heaven was preparation for the knock on the door and the opening of salvation to the Gentile nations. Once or twice, and I’m not sure Peter would have been convinced — but the third time probably brought him right back to that moment on the shore, when Jesus looked him in the eyes with unconditional love and confirmed his calling. Thus Peter was able to look these Gentiles in the eyes and say, “But God has shown me that I should no longer think of anyone as impure or unclean” (Acts 10:28). Sometimes it takes a few times to see things the way Jesus does.

Application

It’s hard to believe summer is already over. It’s our first time in twenty-five years that we aren’t taking first-day-of-school pics and packing lunches. There’s something comforting about the repetitive schedule of school and the restored rhythm of life it brings. Education thrives on repetition over time. According to a study in Memory and Cognition it's not just that repetition works, it's that repetition spread out over time compounds. The question is whether I’m paying attention to what Jesus has been saying. Repetition leads to restoration. Repetition leads to revelation. Repetition leads to redemption. Repetition is like an anchor for the heart in the tempest of change. How many parents have said, “If I have to tell you one more time…” — and, inevitably, we will, and we do. Why? Because, like Jesus with Peter, we love our kids and want them to remember what matters most.

During the school years, especially, I wasn’t sure if anything I was saying repeatedly was even sinking in. Then I had a moment like the one a few years ago with my son Aden, on one of our Dad Dates. He shared his Life Journal with me (journaling is something I’ve repeatedly told my boys is central to hearing God’s voice). He was journaling out of Proverbs 1 and wrote, “As my Dad always says, ‘Is that lie worth the price of your soul?’” I couldn’t believe it. Whenever my boys were tempted to cheat on a test, tell a quick lie to get out of something, or steal something, I would ask this question. Aden not only caught the lesson I’d repeated throughout his years but applied it to his own life. Then it sank in and I understood why this lesson had sunk in for him. It wasn’t just something he heard me say; it was something I repeatedly lived out when faced with my own temptations. Repetition without relationship to back it up is just empty noise. Repetition without the longevity and authenticity of being lived out is just hypocrisy.

The repetition of Jesus to Peter broke through because Jesus proved it with His life, over and over again, and sealed it with His death and resurrection. “Do as I say, not as I do” is a sad lesson repeated at every level of leadership. Fast forward to yesterday I saw my boys reading their Bibles at Lofty Coffee, and they ended up getting to witness to the people around them. They were asked why they were reading, and they talked about how they’d observed their parents reading the Bible every day. They weren’t forced to do it, but the repetition reinforced why God’s Word must be repeated to our hearts and minds.

Jesus leads differently because He leads from love. He loves us enough to repeat what we need to hear until it sinks into our soul and changes us forever. He loves us enough to live out a pattern, a practice for living, and then calls us to walk in His footsteps, one foot after another, repeatedly, every day of our lives. When God repeats Himself, it’s because He loves us enough not to give up on us, no matter how long it takes us to learn the lesson. Repetition that flows from relationship is truly redemptive. The question is whether or not we are willing to go back to school in His Word today?

Prayer

Thank You, Jesus, for Your immense patience with me. You are so good to me. Thank You for not giving up on me, even when I’m missing the message or forgetting the lesson. Help me to have the same patience with others that You have with me — to see restoration, revelation, and redemption flow to those who, like me, haven’t fully understood Your love.

“Nevertheless, even many of the leading men believed in Him [as Savior and Messiah], but because of the Pharisees they would not confess it, for fear that [if they acknowledged Him openly] they would be put out of the synagogue (excommunicated); for they loved the approval of men more than the approval of God. But Jesus loudly declared, ‘The one who believes and trusts in Me does not believe [only] in Me but [also believes] in Him who sent Me… I know that His commandment is eternal life. So the things I speak, I speak [in accordance with His exact instruction,] just as the Father has told Me.’” John 12:42–44, 50 (AMP)

Observation

Apart from His trial, these are the last words Jesus addressed to a public crowd beyond His inner circle of disciples. It’s a final appeal to step out of the darkness and into His light. No more covert Christianity. No more one foot in and one foot out. No more pleasing people over pleasing God.

Application

Every minister knows the Monday muddle — that morning-after fog where you second-guess the message you just gave. It’s one of the reasons I start working on next Sunday’s message immediately; I can’t afford to get stuck relitigating the one behind me. Debriefing and improving week to week is essential. But left unchecked, it curdles into something else: I wonder if the people liked what I said?

I was wrestling with that question this morning, the day after preaching on the reality of Hell. (Click HERE For Sunday’s Message: Everyone Will Bow). I heard good words from people I trust. But I could also tell that a lot of the room was unsettled at the thought of everlasting separation from God for loved ones who died without knowing Jesus as Lord and Savior. I don’t take that lightly — it’s a devastating reality, and it should be.

I also heard something else: We never talk about this. Which raises the question I couldn’t shake — why did it take two Jehovah’s Witnesses standing on my doorstep, peddling a false picture of Hell, to finally give me the courage to preach the true one?

My son Jaxon was at the door with me that day. Before the two of them moved on down the street, I told them: “I want to thank you guys for being out here today. It’s brutally hot, and you’re doing this because you actually believe eternity matters enough to knock on strangers’ doors. Can I be honest? We’re a Christian home, and even we have a hard time getting Christians to talk about their faith — let alone heaven, hell, eternity, and how what we do here determines where we end up there.”

They went quiet. Genuinely caught off guard. Then, they were appreciative. We thanked each other. They moved on. But the doorstep didn’t let go of me. It followed me into the study, and eventually into this week’s message on Revelation 20:11–15 — the great white throne, every name in the book, every knee bowing before Christ whether in worship or in surrender. That text pins down two things I can’t preach around: people are given exactly what they’ve spent a lifetime choosing, and there is no name — Buddha, Muhammad, Krishna, Caesar — before whom every knee will not one day bow. Not because God is petty, but because Jesus alone paid for sin, rose from the dead, and holds the keys. That’s not a footnote to the gospel. It’s the reason the gospel is good news in the first place. If there’s nothing to be rescued from, the cross isn’t rescue — it’s just a nice story.

In his book “Erasing Hell”, Francis Chan names the drift I felt in my own chest this morning. In his desire as a pastor to distance himself from Christians who relish wrath and punishment, he confesses he may have crossed a line of his own — refusing to teach a passage is just as wrong as abusing it. He’s right. It’s time some of us stopped apologizing for God and started apologizing to Him for being embarrassed by the ways He’s chosen to reveal Himself. We don’t get to keep the parts of His plan that flatter us and quietly erase the parts that don’t. That’s not humility — that’s the clay trying to put God’s actions in submission to its own reasoning.

Four people gave their lives to Christ yesterday. Four who stepped from death into life! I should be locked in on that. Instead, some part of me is bracing for who might not come back this next Sunday, unsettled by what they heard. But I want to be able to say what Jesus said: I only speak what the Father has told Me. No more. No less. No editing, no customizing, no sanding the message down to something more palatable to the ear.

Prayer

Jesus, given how few and far between my messages on Hell have been over the years, I need to repent this morning. I repent for curtailing Your message to please and keep a crowd, instead of pleasing and keeping Your Word. Your people don’t need a shepherd who tells them what they want to hear. They need one who tells them what they need to hear. What I needed to hear this morning was Your “well done,” not my own anxious “what did you just do?” I find comfort in this: even if that had been the last time I saw some of those precious people at The Father’s House, they would have left having heard the whole gospel and not just the parts about Heaven.

“If you’re serious about what you are doing, come out in the open and show the world.” His brothers were pushing him like this because they didn’t believe him either. Jesus came back at them, “Don’t pressure me. This isn’t my time. It’s your time — it’s always your time... It’s not the right time for me.” John 7:3-8 (MSG)

Observation

Jesus was operating on Heaven’s timetable, and no one on earth could understand it or comprehend it. The Messiah they expected would welcome the crowds, and yet Jesus was hiding from them. In leadership circles we call this maintaining momentum and yet Jesus seemed to be anti-momentum. He had a crowd growing by the day thanks to the feeding of the 5,000. Did He build on it? No — Jesus obliterated it by preaching a message on eating His body and drinking His blood, a message only His true followers would come to understand was about the New Covenant through His sacrifice. Everyone was a fan of free food, but only the true followers of Jesus stuck around when He stopped making sense. Jesus would not be pressured by the expectations of man; He would only do what He saw His Father doing. He was not there to make friends and win people as an influencer — He was there to please His Father alone, even when the timing seemed off. Faith is believing in advance what only hindsight will prove true.

The family of Jesus wanted Him to go big at the beginning of the Feast of Tabernacles. Jesus waited for the climax no one saw coming. The Feast of Sukkot proper ran seven days, with an eighth day (Shemini Atzeret) added as a solemn closing assembly (Leviticus 23:36). On the seventh day, priests circled the altar seven times instead of once and poured out water drawn from the Pool of Siloam in a golden pitcher — this would have been the perfect moment for Jesus to declare Himself the Living Water. But some scholars believe John is describing the eighth day instead, when there was no water ceremony at all. Into the silence, into the absence of the ritual, Jesus stands and declares Himself the reality the ritual was only ever gesturing toward.

Even here, there’s a “not yet” to His timing. John explains the “river of living water” in 7:39: it’s the Spirit, not yet given because Jesus had not yet been glorified. So the Sukkot ceremony that prayed for rain and looked back to water from the rock becomes, in Jesus’s mouth, a prophecy of Pentecost. His timing made no sense to the crowd pressuring Him to be their Messiah — but to the 120 in the Upper Room in Acts 2, His timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

Application

Corrie ten Boom once said, “Every experience God gives us... is the perfect preparation for the future that only He can see.” Reading John 7, I found myself relating to the family of Jesus, trying to pressure Him to prove a point. That raised some convicting questions. Am I praying to Jesus because I believe Him, or pressuring Him because I don’t? Am I pursuing Jesus because I trust His timing, or pressuring Him because I’m tired of waiting? Am I promoting Jesus for His glory, or to increase my own platform and profile? Do I only follow Jesus when He makes sense, or because He’s my Savior?

I’ve got a lifetime of examples of how His timing — completely different from mine — has always been perfect. I remember complaining to God as a young man about why I couldn’t find a girlfriend to date or a godly woman to court, when it seemed everyone around me had. I didn’t meet Cyndi until Bible college, and even then God asked me to wait two years before dating anyone. That waiting felt like torture at the time, but in hindsight it was God’s perfect timing — He was growing and maturing Cyndi and me in ways that wouldn’t have happened if we’d already been together. I tried to pressure God about other women I thought would be perfect, and I’m so glad He never gave me peace to pursue them. On our first date, Cyndi and I were already best friends, and we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. Only God could orchestrate something like that. Almost 30 years of marriage later, I can’t imagine my life with anyone else. Cyndi was so worth the wait.

That’s just one example among many, so you’d think I’d trust God’s timing when it comes to my current list of prayers:

• Healing for my loved ones fighting chronic sickness

• Financial breakthrough to achieve God-given dreams

• Reconciliation in relationships strained or estranged

• Direction for future endeavors that feel stalled

Prayer

Elisabeth Elliot once said, “Faith does not eliminate questions. But faith knows where to take them.” So I bring these unanswered questions to You, Jesus. The timing that’s frustrating, the expectations still unfulfilled, and the plans that fall apart — I put them all in the safest place possible: Your hands. I repent for pressuring the only One who sees the beginning from the end. Instead of living under the pressure of my timeline, I choose to trust Yours — even when it doesn’t make sense. You are the River of Life, and I’m going to go with Your flow.

Scripture

For when He was invested with honor and the radiance of the Shekinah glory from God the Father, such a voice as this came to Him from the splendid Majestic Glory in the bright cloud that overshadowed Him, saying, “This is My Son, My Beloved Son in whom I am well-pleased and delighted” — and we actually heard this voice made from heaven when we were together with Him on the holy mountain.

So we have the prophetic word made more certain. You do well to pay close attention to it as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and light breaks through the gloom and the morning star arises in your hearts. — 2 Peter 1:17–19

Observation

I love Peter’s honesty as he recounts the Transfiguration. Face to face with such glory, he didn’t know what to say, so he defaulted to what came naturally to him — words without wisdom, loud before listening, building before breathing, working before waiting, tradition before taking in the brand new thing in front of him. I can relate. In the Old Testament, the Jews built shelters at holy sites, so that’s likely what Peter was suggesting: the same old container for a brand new move of God.

Except this was something new and something that couldn’t be captured in the containers of the past. What Jesus was doing, confirmed by the Law (Moses), the Prophets (Elijah), and the Father Himself, was about to give us a permanent dwelling. Through Christ’s sacrifice, we would forever be in His presence, no longer limited to certain days, times, and locations. He would make His home in us, and we in Him. This was an invitation past the mountaintop experience and into a moment-by-moment relationship with Jesus.

So why does Peter leave off the last three words the Father spoke on that mountain? Mark’s gospel records the full moment: “Then a cloud appeared and covered them, and a voice came from the cloud: ‘This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!’ Suddenly, when they looked around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus” (Mark 9:7–8). Like any good teacher, Peter isn’t leaving those words out as much as he’s building toward them. In light of Christ’s return, he writes that “we do well to pay close attention to the prophetic word, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in our hearts.” The only way we’ll be ready for His soon return is to behold Jesus daily. And the only way we behold Him is to let Him hold us daily.

Application

I stood in the mezzanine of the Anaheim Convention Center and cried as I looked out over thousands of young people crying out to Jesus for their generation at The Send conference this week. I was having a mountaintop experience. I was crying because I realized it had been way too long since I’d simply stopped to behold Jesus.

Normally, as a pastor, I’m running services, writing sermons, meeting with people, and strategizing future endeavors for The Father’s House. I took my glasses off and repented for being so busy building and not simply being with Him. I felt overwhelmed by His love, reminded of how much He actually just wants to be with me. Out of that came the same message Peter was bringing: to behold Jesus, I have to be held by Jesus.

Stillness in His presence has always been a challenge for a guy like me. I’m a man on the move, and as long as it’s for Jesus, He’s gotta be good with that, right? Yet those three words — “listen to him” — have me asking: Do I stop to listen, or do I just keep moving? Do I seek mountaintop experiences that don’t last, or daily opportunities to be held by Him in Scripture, worship, solitude, and silence?

I hear the Father speaking through the constant flow of words, information, meetings, and good ideas: “Listen to Him.”Sherry Turkle described our “poverty of presence” this way: the devices we carry don’t just change what we do, they change who we are. People text through meetings. Parents text at dinner while their kids beg for attention. We are, as she puts it, “alone together”. It’s so easy to stay busy for Jesus without ever actually being held by Him.

I think of my grandson Kawika. He’s almost seven months old and already crawling like crazy. He doesn’t want to be held. Kawika wants to conquer. I love the look on his face when he glances back and realizes it’s no longer his mother’s beautiful face looking at him, but Papa’s hairy one. She hands him to me, but he’s too busy to notice at first. Then his big blue eyes go wide, and a smile breaks out — for a minute, maybe two — before he wiggles and squirms until I set him back down to make his next move.

Prayer

Jesus, I’m holding my glasses up to You, praying that You would remove the cataracts from my soul. I want to see the One who is holding me, so that I can behold You when You come again. Forgive me for being so busy for You instead of first being with You. Forgive me for chasing a mountaintop experience instead of daily intimacy with You.

To be held by You is to trust Your timing, Your strength, Your leading, without striving. To behold You is to stop living “alone together” and instead live in the ever-present anticipation of Your soon return — every day, in light of eternity.

“One thing I have desired of the Lord, that will I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple.” — Psalm 27:4 (NKJV)

S — Scripture

God saw to it that he was extravagantly rich. Hezekiah was also responsible for diverting the upper outlet of the Gihon spring and rerouting the water to the west side of the City of David. Hezekiah succeeded in everything he did. But when the rulers of Babylon sent emissaries to find out about the sign from God that had taken place earlier, God left him on his own to see what he would do; he wanted to test his heart. 2 Chronicles 32:27-31

O — Observation

King Hezekiah’s darkest hour produced his clearest faith. The armies of Assyria were at the gates of Jerusalem. A terminal diagnosis had just been handed to him. There was no strategy left, no leverage, no way out. Rather than react in fear he responded in faith. Hezekiah tore his clothes, went into the house of the Lord, and prayed like a man with no way through and nothing left to prove. God answered spectacularly on both fronts.

Then came the quiet test. Envoys arrived from Babylon to ask about the sign tied to his miraculous healing and Hezekiah showed them everything. The silver, the gold, the armory, the treasuries. No mention of the God who healed him. Just an inventory. The Assyrian army was an obvious enemy only God could conquer. The Babylonian’s came with flattery and praise so Hezekiah believed his own press and failed the test.

Leadership researcher Robert Clinton calls this a loyalty test — a moment God allows to bring to light whatever has quietly taken His rightful place in a leader’s heart, often without the leader even realizing it happened. Hezekiah didn’t reject God outright . He simply stopped noticing Him, because somewhere between the healing and the treasury tour, he had taken the lead and the credit came with it. “But the sign, instead of making Hezekiah grateful, made him arrogant.” (2 Chron. 32:25)

A — Application

I’ve walked Hezekiah’s tunnel twice. A 1,750-foot tunnel carved during the reign of Hezekiah to bring water from one side of the city to the other is considered one the greatest works of water engineering technology in the pre-Classical period.

The first time I walked it, I didn’t pay attention to how long it was when our guide led the way in. I was carrying a heavy backpack, and being a big guy in a narrow ancient water tunnel, the claustrophobia set in fast. Thirty minutes in, pitch dark except for my flashlight, no end in sight, I genuinely started to panic a bit. So, instead of quick breathing, I started singing. “Holy, holy, are You Lord God Almighty” began to fill the corridors of the tunnel and more importantly my heart. I felt God’s presence and peace closer in that tunnel than almost anywhere I’d stood in Israel. About ten minutes later, I saw light at the far end. It turns out He’d been the light in the tunnel the whole time.

The next year, I went back. Same tunnel. But this time I knew exactly how long it would take. I left the backpack behind. I even led the team through the tunnel myself. I sang for the acoustics, but didn’t really worship at all. It wasn’t because I’d rejected God, but because nothing forced me to remember I needed Him.

Same tunnel. Same God. Different me — depending on whether I still knew who was leading.

That’s Hezekiah’s whole arc in miniature. Crisis reveals what you already believe. Success reveals what you’ve never had to examine. He passed the test that came with a countdown timer, because desperation makes your theology explicit. He failed the test disguised as an achievement, because prosperity never asks you to declare anything — it just waits to see what you reach for first.

P — Prayer

Lord, don’t let me get to the end and realize I stopped noticing when You stepped back. Whether in narrow spaces or wide open places let me heart be ever focused on You. Let intimacy with You be the one thing that never gets renegotiated. Not by success, not by failure, not by the world knowing my name or forgetting it, not by seasons of desperation and not by seasons when I’ve built something and start believing I no longer need to be desperate. If I ever start giving the tour of what I’ve built instead of pointing back to the One who built me, stop me before I finish the sentence.

I don’t want a legacy of accomplishment to hand my sons. I want a legacy of a father who was still on his knees at the end the same way he was on his knees at the beginning. Not because life stayed hard, but because he never let it get easy enough to forget who was carrying him.

For every son You’ve given me by blood or by love let this be what outlasts me: not what I built, but who I stayed close to while I built it.

Jesus, be my one true passion until I see You. Let me never lead so well that I stop noticing when You lead or worse when You’ve left.

Amen.

“In that day I will call my servant Eliakim the son of Hilkiah, and I will clothe him with your robe, and will bind your sash on him, and will commit your authority to his hand. And he shall be a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and to the house of Judah. And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David. He shall open, and none shall shut; and he shall shut, and none shall open.” — Isaiah 22:20-22

Observation

Eliakim was successor to Shebna, a steward to the king of Israel who held the treasury key to David’s palace. But Shebna had gotten comfortable with the perks of the position so he built himself a royal tomb, collected chariots, and lined his pockets, quietly planning a death of honor for himself. Instead, he was exiled from David’s palace. The keys were handed to Eliakim instead, because he was trustworthy, and he became known as a father and advisor to Israel in a season when trust in leadership had been badly eroded.

Eliakim was a type of Christ (see v. 23). Eight hundred years later, Jesus speaks to a small, struggling church in Philadelphia and hands them the very same promise: “These are the words of him who is holy and true, who holds the key of David. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open” (Revelation 3:7).

The believers in Philadelphia had likely been pushed out of the synagogue (Revelation 3:9), yet Jesus was opening a door of Gospel opportunity that no one could shut them out of. Why? Because, like Eliakim, they were trustworthy. “I know your deeds. See, I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. I know that you have little strength, yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name” (v. 8).

Notice what Jesus doesn’t say. He doesn’t say, “Once you build your strength, I’ll open the door.” He says, “I know you have little strength — and I’ve already opened it.” The door was never a reward for becoming impressive. It’s an invitation extended to the faithful.

When we feel weak, insignificant, or rejected, our instinct is to retreat to what’s familiar and safe. Jesus is challenging His church then and now to step up and step in, even when we don’t feel we have the strength for something new.

Application

Are we fighting God’s closed doors, or following Him through the open ones? Are we asking for confirmation because we genuinely lack clarity or because we dislike the answer we already got? We ask God to confirm whether someone we’re dating is our future spouse, He closes the door, and we try to force it open anyway.

The church in Philadelphia had an open door set before them. In Scripture, an open door almost always speaks of evangelistic opportunity (1 Corinthians 16:9; 2 Corinthians 2:12; Colossians 4:3).

That’s exactly how the El Salvador story started with Paul and Crystal Rider. Their plans to continue mission work in Ecuador hit a closed door. They waited on the Lord. After many years of serving on the mission field in Africa, they had learned not to force closed doors open, or open doors shut. So they prayed and waited. Then, a few weeks ago, Pastor Agner, a Salvadoran pastor, approached them and asked them to pray about joining Pastor Pablo’s mission in El Salvador. This was their open door. Not at all what they had planned and not really knowing what to expect they invited me to join them. We walked through that door and we’ve been changed forever.

The story didn’t end with the Riders and the Medranos. When you walk through a door God opens, no one can shut it and it often opens doors for others.

A week after our team was there Pastor Pablo and the director of the prison ministry went and met with the general director of prisons in El Salvador. They asked if they could bring the same Talking Bibles we had carried through the jungle to the Forgotten Island and bring them into the prisons. James 4:2 says, “You have not because you ask not.” So they asked. And the answer was yes.

673 blind prisoners — people with no access to Scripture — will now hear the Gospel in Spanish. Those who are blind physically will help many others see Jesus.

In less than a month, our small team walked through an open door into El Salvador, and God did this:

• An invitation to build a church inside a women’s prison — 100 women received Christ at an altar call I gave.

• Talking Bibles delivered to 673 blind prisoners.

• A new partnership with a Foursquare church to feed children living in poverty.

• And Martha — blind, 100 years old, on a forgotten island — leading the way to revival.

Nobody planned this. Nobody was impressive enough to engineer it. A few faithful people asked. God opened the door. Nobody could shut it.

That’s Philadelphia. That’s what it looks like when we stop fighting closed doors and start walking through open ones. No matter how different the door of opportunity looks from what we planned, no matter how little strength we feel we have — the real question is: can Jesus trust us to walk through it? What door has Jesus opened for you to walk through?

Prayer

Jesus, I repent for fighting You on the closed doors of what I had planned, and for avoiding the open doors before me because they seemed too daunting. My life was changed when I walked through that door into El Salvador — even though it wasn’t something I felt I had the time or energy for. You are still opening new doors, and I hold to the promise You gave Philadelphia: “Because you have kept My command to persevere, I also will keep you from the hour of trial” (v. 10). Make me a trustworthy spiritual father to Your church — a pillar that doesn’t quake or crumble under pressure from the world. It’s such an adventure serving You when I simply walk through the door of opportunity You’re calling me to.

Scripture

“For everyone who lives on milk is [doctrinally inexperienced and] unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a spiritual infant. But solid food is for the [spiritually] mature, whose senses are trained by practice to distinguish between what is morally good and what is evil.” — Hebrews 5:13-14

Observation

Essentially, the author of Hebrews is saying to the Church, “It’s time to grow up.” Then, in the very next chapter, Hebrews 6:1-2 lists out the basics of the faith — the milk — that every believer should not only be living, but should be able to teach to others:

1. Repentance from dead works

2. Faith toward God

3. Instructions about washings (baptisms)

4. Laying on of hands (often tied to healing, impartation, and commissioning)

5. Resurrection of the dead

6. Eternal judgment

Wait a minute. Read that list again. That’s the milk? That’s the basics of our faith? How many “Bible-believing Christians” could even begin to teach someone else about repentance, baptism, the resurrection, or judgment? And it gets more concerning from there — how many Christians aren’t even living out these foundations, let alone building on them toward greater maturity?

Application

While I was praying through these verses, my son Elijah sent me a picture of my grandson Kawika standing fully on his own — with the caption of a proud first-time dad: “This guy left us no time in the ‘chill baby’ stage.”

Kawika had just turned six months old the day before, and he’s already crawling and pulling himself up. Elijah and Kehau have just started introducing mashed fruit — blueberries, watermelon — into his diet. He’s still getting the majority of his nutrition from Momma’s milk, but this is the natural progression of maturity. Moving from milk to meat is what normal development looks like, in the natural and in the spiritual.

Being the carnivore that I am, I had to ask when I could slip my grandson some smoked tri-tip to build some pull-up strength. Kehau had to slow my roll: “The next thing we’ll do is bone marrow — super easy, you just pop the bone in the oven and feed him the middle.” If Kawika is already this strong, he’s going to be running 5Ks the second meat hits his diet. I can’t wait.

This is how God designed a body to mature and grow. Kawika couldn’t stand on milk alone. Neither can we. The same season that taught him to stand up taught his body to take in more than milk — growth and grounding arrive together. You will never have one without the other.

Elijah and Kehau are doing exactly what good parents do: feeding their son what he needs, when he needs it, so he grows into someone who can eventually feed himself. Can you imagine Kawika as a grown man, still only drinking milk — or worse, going back to powdered milk from a box? Ridiculous, right?

To some degree, that’s exactly what’s happening with the modern-day Christian believer.

Trusting AI for spiritual growth. A November 2025 Barna survey found that 54 percent of practicing Christians say they would completely or somewhat trust AI’s advice for having a sense of meaning or purpose in life, and 48 percent would trust AI for advice on growing spiritually. About a third of practicing American Christians now say the spiritual advice they get from artificial intelligence is just as good as what they’d get from a pastor.

Spoon-fed faith. According to Lifeway Research, fewer than 3 in 5 churchgoers read the Bible more than once a week — and a full 12 percent admit they rarely or never read it at all. Milk on Sunday and no meat the other six days produces baby Christians who never mature, never grow, and never get strong enough to stand on their own.

Choosing milk over meat. Pew Research found that fewer than half of adults — just 45 percent — can name all four Gospels. Barna found that 60 percent of Americans can’t name even five of the Ten Commandments. If we can’t name them, we aren’t living them. And if we aren’t living them, we certainly aren’t teaching them to the next generation.

So where do we go from here? Hebrews 5:14 makes it clear: the difference between a baby Christian and a mature one isn’t information, it’s practice. It’s the mature believer who trains their discernment by constantly using it. Just like Kawika, the effort of processing solid food is what builds the capacity for more solid food. You don’t wait until you’re strong to chew — chewing is what makes you strong. Engaging harder truth is what builds the capacity to engage harder truth.

Notice something else — this is the exact same season crawling turns to standing. New food and new strength show up together. Kawika learning to stand on his own two feet happened in the very same window his gut learned to stand on more than milk. Solid food and standing up arrive together. One fuels the other.

If we want to stand strong in our faith in these last days, we need to move from milk back to meat — the Word of God, lived out daily, not just consumed on Sundays.

Prayer

Lord, I feel the weight of this one this morning. Elijah and Kehau have been given the great privilege of raising Kawika in a way that helps him grow and thrive. You’ve given me the same responsibility as a pastor over Your people. I’m thankful for our Essentials course launching this month, built to move our people from milk to meat.

I bring You my discouragement over the stats on how many are trusting AI over Your Word, and over the leaders You’ve placed in Your Church. I can’t make anyone eat the meat of Your Word. But just like I do with my own family, I’ll keep serving it up hot and fresh for those who are ready to actually put into practice what they say they believe.

“The time is surely coming,” says the Sovereign Lord, “when I will send a famine on the land — not a famine of bread or water but of hearing the words of the Lord. People will stagger from sea to sea and wander from border to border searching for the word of the Lord, but they will not find it. Beautiful girls and strong young men will grow faint in that day, thirsting for the Lord’s word.”
— Amos 8:11–13

Observation

Amos isn’t describing a distant future. He’s describing right now.

Everyone is running — everywhere, to everyone — searching for the treasure their hearts long for, and coming back more worn out and empty than before. But Jesus gives us the answer: feed yourself.

After forty days of fasting, Jesus was physically starving — and yet spiritually full. When the enemy came at him, he didn’t reach for a strategy. He reached for Scripture: “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God” (Matthew 4:4). That’s Jesus quoting Deuteronomy 8:3 — reminding us that God’s Word isn’t supplemental. It’s survival.

Then He went further. “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry” (John 6:35). And in the very next chapter: “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink… streams of living water will flow from within him” (John 7:37–38).

Jesus — the Living Word made flesh (John 1:1) — is not offering information. He’s offering transformation. Himself. The only One who can truly satisfy.

So why do we keep pouring our time, energy, and attention into the worthless words of this world while neglecting the precious wisdom of heaven?

Application

We are living in the prophetic fulfillment of Amos 8 in real time — spiritually malnourished while drowning in information.

Consider the numbers:

• 🌐 The average person consumes the equivalent of 74 GB of information daily — like watching 16 movies every single day (UC San Diego)

• 📱 We touch our phones 2,600+ times a day (Dscout)

• 🧠 We’re exposed to over 10,000 brand messages daily, yet most believers can’t recall a single Bible verse

• 🕒 We spend 7–10 hours consuming digital content daily, while the average Christian spends less than 10 minutes in Scripture

We are spiritually starved in an age of digital gluttony. Every other source entertains. Only God’s Word transforms.

While Christians in America leave their Bibles dusty on the shelf, I found myself boarding a small boat in El Salvador, headed for what our team called “The Forgotten Island.” It had gone unmapped until just two years ago, when a missionary named Yvonne dropped a pin on Google Maps and brought Isla La Calzada into view for the first time.

We carried food for the two schools serving 180 children living in abject poverty. We brought medical and cleaning supplies for the one clinic serving 2,500 residents. And we carried something else on our backs — solar-powered Talking Bibles — hiking them through the jungle to the scattered communities across the island, where the illiteracy rate runs at 70%. These devices let people hear the entire Bible in Spanish, whether they can’t read due to lack of education or physical limitations.

But nothing prepared me for Martha.

She was blind. She had just turned 100 years old. We hiked through the jungle to reach her. When we placed the Talking Bible in her hands and showed her how to press the buttons that brought Scripture to life in her language, her face completely changed. She lit up. She pulled the Bible to her chest and held it there, thanking us through tears, declaring she would never let it go. She hung on every word she heard.

I stood there and wept — not for her, but in conviction for myself.

Martha lived under a metal roof on a dirt floor with almost nothing the world would call valuable. And yet, in that moment, she was the richest person I had ever met.

We later learned that Martha is considered “the heart of the island” — and that what she had just received would ripple out to everyone around her. Two weeks later, the first of many Bible studies began forming around those Talking Bibles. People who had felt forgotten were discovering that Jesus — the Bread of Life — had come to end their famine.

I can’t say the same for myself with the same confidence. I can’t remember the last time I clung to God’s Word the way Martha did the moment she received it.

Prayer

Jesus, I woke up this morning and the noise was already there with alerts demanding my attention, entertainment offering escape, a thousand distractions lining up to be fed. I know how empty each of those “treasures” leaves me. I’ve been there. And yet I still fight to choose Your Word over all of it.

Forgive me for reaching for anything else first.

Seeking Your wisdom is like hunting for hidden treasure — and You’ve promised that those who search for it will find it. “If you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure, then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God. For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding” (Proverbs 2:4–6).

Martha knew that. Help me live like I do too.

Amen.

“Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ. If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important.” — Galatians 6:2-3

Observation

There’s an intentional callback to the parable of the Good Samaritan in Paul’s letter to the Galatians. Like the religious men who walked right past the man left for dead in the ditch, some of the leaders in Galatia were so consumed with pride that they believed they were there to be served rather than to serve. Paul’s correction was direct: “Instead of piling more burdens from the law on people who are already drowning, pull them out of the hole — through the law of Christ that every single one of us is called to obey.”

James echoes the same conviction: “Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” (James 1:26-27)

I’ll be honest — I’ve treated caring for the broken and the needy as optional for most of my life. But Jesus doesn’t frame it that way. He frames it as a command: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34-35)

It’s not complicated. Open your eyes. Help. You don’t need a church committee. You don’t need to wait for someone to notice. You don’t need to wait for a better time. Help the person in front of you — and make sure no one sees you doing it. This isn’t about you.

Application

If you see a need, meet it. If you see a burden, lift it. If you see the broken, help heal it.

But here’s the problem: we don’t see anymore.

We’ve become the stars of our own movies — so focused inward, so wrapped in self-promotion, so marinated in a victim culture that tells us we’re the ones who need help, that we’ve stopped looking outward altogether. Scientists call it inattentive blindness — the brain can only truly focus on one thing at a time. When we’re consumed with ourselves, we literally cannot see the need right in front of us. Paul’s words land like a gut punch when that’s your reality: You are not that important.

Last week I was part of a small scouting team that traveled to El Salvador to partner with Pastor Pablo Peña and the ministries he leads. As a team, we prayed that we would only do what we saw the Father doing and join Him in it (John 5:19). We prayed it. Then we saw it.

We visited a Foursquare pastor and his daughter in La Concordia, surrounded by staggering poverty, and yet strategically placed to be a beacon of hope. We brought food. We prayed with neighbors. We saw village school children working with almost no resources, fighting to break a cycle of poverty in a region where over 70% of the population can’t read. The solar powered Talking Bibles we brought to this “Forgotten Island” in their language were received like treasure.

By the time Pablo was driving us to the women’s prison at the end of the week, I was running on empty. Compassion fatigue had set in. I was overwhelmed by the scale of the need and, if I’m being transparent, I was really just going to support Pablo as a friend. This was clearly his passion — I didn’t think it would become mine.

I was wrong.

El Salvador’s prisons are packed after a sweeping government crackdown on gang members. Anyone with even a loose association — wives, girlfriends — was imprisoned along with them, many arriving pregnant, many now serving life sentences. Babies born inside the walls are permitted to stay with their mothers until they turn five. Then they are released — handed to a family member they’ve never met, or surrendered to the foster care system.

At the gate, they took our phones and our passports. We were frisked. Background checks were run. Pablo and his team had spent years building trust with the prison director — a fellow believer — and that relationship was the only reason we were allowed inside.

Nothing prepared me for what I found there.

These women had transformed their captivity into a garden. They had taken their circumstances and pulled beauty out of them — tended spaces, pride in their surroundings, dignity carved out of concrete. When the mothers and children came for the weekly worship service, their eyes went wide at the sight of me — a large white man with a white beard, someone most of them had never seen anything like. Many had grown up never knowing their own fathers.

I got low to the ground and smiled. That seemed to help. Children started moving toward me — climbing on me, pulling at my beard with this look of wonder that I will never forget. They were in prison. They had never been allowed more than a few feet from their mothers. And yet their eyes were full of hope.

That hope makes what happens next even harder to describe.

Pablo pulled me aside from the crowd to watch something that happens every time a child turns five. I didn’t have my phone. I couldn’t take a picture. But I don’t need one. What I saw that day is burned into me.

Her name was Allison.

She was holding a large stuffed bunny, and she never once uncovered her eyes from behind its ears. Her mother was crying. Her caregivers were crying. Even the female guards were crying as Allison was handed to family members she had never met — people who were, from her perspective, strangers. This would almost certainly be the last time she would ever see her mother.

She was hiding behind those bunny ears the way children hide in hide-and-seek — believing that if she couldn’t see it, maybe it wouldn’t be real. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed, she could stay.

She closed her eyes.

Mine were opened.

As Pablo prayed a commissioning prayer over Allison, I understood — not intellectually, but in my gut — the urgency of this mission. There is a small and shrinking window of time to introduce these mothers and children to Jesus before they are torn from each other by circumstances completely beyond their control. I felt the heart of Jesus for Allison. For her mother. For every woman and child behind those walls.

Allison hid behind bunny ears. I could not look away. I will not look away.

When the Women’s Prison Director invited us to join them in praying for — and helping to provide — a permanent church building inside those walls, I finally understood the primary reason I was in El Salvador.

I came home with my eyes open. Not just for the mission there, but for my purpose here in North County and San Diego.

Prayer

Lord, I repent. I walk around with blinders on — distracted by my own pursuits, my inattentional blindness leading me right past the assignments You’ve placed directly in front of me. The interruptions are invitations. They always were.

Give me the heart of Pablo and his team — the ones who show up week after week to carry the burdens of those mothers and children. I know what it is to have people come alongside me when I was being crushed. They were Jesus to me in their words, their gifts, their presence. I want to be that for someone else.

I’m not the center of the universe. You are. And Your law of love is the most important thing I could spend my life on.

Open my eyes. Keep them open.

“So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up. Therefore, whenever we have the opportunity, we should do good to everyone — especially to those in the family of faith.”— Galatians 6:9-10

⁵ Trust in and rely confidently on the Lord with all your heart and do not rely on your own insight or understanding. ⁶ In all your ways know and acknowledge and recognize Him, and He will make your paths straight and smooth, removing obstacles that block your way.

— Proverbs 3:5–6

OBSERVATION

As David did with his son Solomon, Solomon now does with his sons. Passing the wisdom of Heaven to the next generation is every father’s privilege and responsibility. My Pop modeled daily intimacy with God for me. He worked hard as a gardener and landscaper, but he always got up early to read his Bible and pray. I can still picture waking up for school and finding him face-down on the floor, praying over the scripture laid out in front of him. What he passed on to me, I’ve done my best to pass on to my five boys.

These familiar verses hold the key to a thriving life. Two Hebrew words in particular reveal the punch and promise of this passage:

Ways (Derek)An array, a course, or a mode of action — specific opportunities that each new day brings.

Acknowledge (Yada)To know by observation, investigation, reflection, or firsthand experience. At its highest level, it speaks to the direct, intimate knowing of marriage.

What is Solomon saying to his son? What is God saying to us? To truly yada God is to be intimately connected to Him daily — through prayer, Word, and worship. When we yada Jesus every day, He will derek us into fruitful, life-giving opportunities. Jesus modeled this oneness with the Father: “The Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise.” (John 5:19)

Direction flows out of intimacy. Then Jesus invites us into that same intimacy with Him: “If you remain in Me and My words remain in you... ask whatever you wish and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified and honored by this, when you bear much fruit.” (John 15:7–8) Intimacy with God leads to direction and blessing from God. Therefore, the best thing I can pass on to my boys is to model what daily intimacy with Jesus actually looks like.

APPLICATION

This morning I made one of my classic breakfasts for the boys before they headed off to school. It’s Justice and Jaxon’s second-to-last week, so I wanted to treat them right. I took some leftover banana pancakes Cyndi had made the day before, crisped them up under the broiler, then topped them with a sausage patty, a fried egg, melted pepper jack, and a dollop of syrup and sriracha mayo — the salty-sweet-spicy combo they love. Homemade McGriddles.

When I finished assembling the sandwiches, I turned to Cyndi with tears in my eyes. “I’m really going to miss making them breakfast before school.” For 25 years I’ve been doing exactly what my Pop did for my brother and me — a good breakfast, a packed lunch, and a prayer before sending them out the door. And now I was two weeks away from that chapter being done.

I stopped and asked myself: Why am I getting so emotional? Then a flood of tears followed a flood of memories. Specifically, all the “Dad Dates” over the years. With five boys, I knew I had to carve out individual time with each of them — to truly hear their heart and let them hear mine. A lot of those once-a-month dates included a trip to the Golden Arches and a McGriddle. That’s where I taught them this S.O.A.P. Life Journal process. Even before the twins could write, I’d have them draw pictures in their journals — little sketches of what God was showing them in the scripture we’d read that morning. Those remain some of my favorite memories: just me, my son, the Word, and a McGriddle.

Why did I do it? Because I wanted to pass on the one thing that would matter most no matter how old they got or how far from home they wandered — intimacy with God, and learning to hear His voice through His Word. Pop told me all my growing up years: “You’re as close to Jesus as you want to be.”

Then, without knowing what I was sitting there processing, Jaxon pulled a chair up next to me, put his backpack on the table, cracked open his Bible and journal, and devoured that homemade McGriddle before heading out the door. “Thanks Dad,” he said. “That was delicious.” I’m saying the same thing to my Pop today — thank you for what you passed on to me.

PRAYER

Thank You, Heavenly Father, for sending Jesus. Jesus, thank You for filling me through the Holy Spirit. I’m so grateful to walk and talk with You every day, especially in this season of change and letting go. I’m grateful for this legacy of intimacy You’ve given me to steward.

As my boys step into the biggest decisions of their lives — relationships, school, work, finances, their futures — I rest in this one thing: they all love You with all their hearts. That gives me more confidence than anything else. What they choose will be led by You.

“I will set no worthless or wicked thing before my eyes. I hate the practice of those who fall away from the right path; it will not grasp hold of me. A perverse heart shall depart from me; I will not tolerate evil.” — Psalm 101:3-4

Observation

Many scholars believe Psalm 101 is David’s declaration of the qualifications of a godly leader. Throughout the psalm, he contrasts what he will and won’t give his attention to. Here, he pledges to set nothing wicked before his eyes, because he understands how easily passive observation becomes perverted obsession. He knows we abdicate to what we tolerate, and if you give sin an inch, it will take a mile.

Later, in verse 6, David writes: “My eyes will be on the faithful of the land, that they may dwell with me; he who walks blamelessly is the one who will minister to and serve me.”

My heart breaks knowing this is the very opposite of what King David actually did. Instead of tending to his duties on the battlefield, he fed his lust while watching Bathsheba, forced her to sleep with him, and then murdered her faithful husband Uriah to cover it all up (2 Samuel 11–12). What happened to the man who declared he would not tolerate evil?

God confronted David directly: “Why have you despised the word of the Lord by doing evil in His sight? You have struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword and have taken his wife to be your wife.” (2 Samuel 12:9)

Even when we pretend not to see the evil we’ve been justifying, God sees. He pays attention even when we’ve stopped paying attention to Him. The question for us today is this: what are we feeding: our flesh or our spirit?

“But I say, walk and live habitually in the Holy Spirit — responsive to and controlled and guided by the Spirit — then you will certainly not gratify the cravings and desires of the flesh.” (Galatians 5:16, AMP)

Application

Cyndi and I are currently leading a Young Adults Marriage Growth Group, and tonight’s subject is a spicy one: what does Scripture say about healthy sexual intimacy in marriage? Everything around us seeks to pervert this gift God designed to be enjoyed within the covenant of marriage. We’re genuinely grateful these young adults want to look at sex from God’s point of view.

In their excellent book The Story of Marriage, John and Lisa Bevere ask some pointed questions worth sitting with:

“What you take in through your eyes and ears, you ultimately take into your mind and heart. Your eyes and ears are the entryways to your soul and spirit. Everything you see and hear feeds either the human nature or the spirit. Stop and think — in what ways are you feeding your human nature? Are you watching or listening to movies, TV shows, or music that fuels the fire of impure desires? Are you feeding on books, magazines, or websites that are polluting your mind and heart? What about friends and other influences — are any of them encouraging worse attitudes or actions?”

With Barna reporting that over half of Christians admit to using pornography, is a healthy sexual relationship within marriage even possible anymore? The answer is a whole-hearted yes but, it starts with honesty. What am I feeding and what am I starving?

It starts with getting honest about the sin, addiction, or struggle within a trustworthy, integrous faith community, which is exactly what we’re attempting to build in this marriage group. Then we interrogate reality with the Beveres’ questions above, inviting the Holy Spirit to reveal any unhealthy influences. And then, rather than just focusing on what not to consume, we focus on what our spirit is hungry for: Scripture, worship, daily devotions, honest accountability, Sabbath rest, Christian counseling, deliverance ministry. Whatever it takes to starve the flesh and feed the spirit.

Pastor John MacArthur reminded us that “the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life” (1 John 2:15–17) belong to a passing world, not to the Father. He called all believers to kill sin in the power of the Spirit — guarding the eyes (as Job covenanted in Job 31:1) and refusing to fill the void with worldly substitutes that ultimately leave us empty.

Prayer

Jesus, thank You for leading Cyndi and me through a labyrinth of temptation and sin, both before marriage and after. Thank You that my marriage covenant with her is not just for my heart when I’m with her, but for my eyes when I’m not. The sacredness of our marriage bed exists both when we are in it and when we aren’t.

Thank You for the power of Your Spirit, the sword of Your Word, the forgiveness of Your blood, and the strength of this community of faith You’re building at The Father’s House, a community that encourages us to stay pure.

I pray for wisdom and discernment as we come alongside these young couples tonight who have chosen to feed their spirits and starve their flesh.

Theologian Frederick Buechner once said, “Lust is the craving for salt of a person who is dying of thirst.” Ultimately, You are the water of life and the only One who can satisfy the deepest longings of our souls.

“So the woman said to Joab, ‘Watch, his head will be thrown to you over the wall.’ Then the woman in her wisdom went to all the people. And they cut off the head of Sheba the son of Bichri, and threw it out to Joab. Then he blew a trumpet, and they withdrew from the city, every man to his tent. So Joab returned to the king at Jerusalem.” — 2 Samuel 20:21-22

Observation

Decapitation may seem like a dark and violent follow-up to a warm and wonderful Mother’s Day celebration, but as I sat down to read today’s assigned passages I realized I was reading a step-by-step description of exactly what we were celebrating yesterday! We don’t know the name of this “woman of wisdom,” but we do know that she single-handedly saved her city of Abel from certain destruction. We have much to learn from her…

She follows in a long line of godly women in scripture whom Proverbs 31 accurately describes:

“She opens her mouth with wisdom, and on her tongue is the law of kindness. She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: ‘Many daughters have done well, but you excel them all.’” — Proverbs 31:26-29

Whether it was Deborah, the judge and prophetess who intervened at a moment of national crisis and directed armies toward deliverance through spoken wisdom (Judges 4-5); or Abigail, whose quick action and wise words literally saved her entire household from King David’s wrath (1 Samuel 25); or Huldah the Prophetess, whose wise counsel to King Josiah triggered one of the greatest spiritual revivals in Israel’s history (2 Kings 22); or Mary the mother of Jesus, whose wisdom was born of faith as she listened, trusted, and obeyed — each of these women demonstrates that true wisdom doesn’t begin with knowing everything. It begins with surrendering everything to God and following His lead for marriages, families, households, churches, cities, and nations.

Application

What an absolute joy it was to hear my wife Cyndi and her panel of moms, all at different stages and ages of motherhood, sharing the wisdom of God drawn from both scripture and lived experience (check out this amazing message HERE)Whether they were addressing the daily demands that come with raising multiple children or the deeper wisdom needed to help grown children navigate life’s hardest choices and challenges, each of these women followed the same steps that the nameless “woman of wisdom” in 2 Samuel 20 modeled for us. Here is a practical, step-by-step path to decapitate division and restore vision in your circles of influence:

1. De-escalate Through Clear Communication “Then a wise woman cried out from the city, ‘Hear, hear! Please say to Joab, come nearby, that I may speak with you.’ When he had come near to her, the woman said, ‘Are you Joab?’ He answered, ‘I am.’ Then she said to him, ‘Hear the words of your maidservant.’ And he answered, ‘I am listening.’” — 2 Samuel 20:16-17

Before anything else, she stopped the siege. She didn’t match Joab’s aggression or panic under pressure. She simply called for a conversation. The wisest people in the room are usually the ones who slow things down first. Real communication can’t happen when walls are up and weapons are drawn, literally or figuratively. She created the conditions for resolution before she attempted it.

2. Start With Shared History “So she spoke, saying, ‘They used to talk in former times, saying, they shall surely seek guidance at Abel, and so they would end disputes.’” — 2 Samuel 20:18

Once she had Joab’s ear, she didn’t lead with demands. She led with legacy. Abel had a good reputation and was a place known for wisdom and peaceful resolution. She reminded him of what this city had always been, anchoring the present conflict in a larger story. When division threatens, wise people ask: What have we always stood for? What do we share that’s bigger than this disagreement?

3. Define Your Core Values “I am among the peaceable and faithful in Israel. You seek to destroy a city and a mother in Israel. Why would you swallow up the inheritance of the Lord?” — 2 Samuel 20:19

Here she named what was truly at stake. This wasn’t just about Sheba and his rebellion. It was also about destroying something that belonged to God. She appealed not to politics or power but to identity and covenant. Wise leaders in families, churches, and communities do the same thing: they call people back to who they are and whose they are before trying to resolve what they’ve done.

4. Find a Common Solution “’There is a man, Sheba the son of Bichri by name, who has raised his hand against King David. Deliver him only, and I will depart from the city.’ So the woman said to Joab, ‘Watch, his head will be thrown to you over the wall.’” — 2 Samuel 20:21

She didn’t defend the indefensible. She isolated the actual problem, separated it from the innocent people around it, and offered a solution that served everyone. This is the hard, courageous work that wisdom requires. Are we willing to make a difficult decision for the sake of the whole? She didn’t protect the division, but instead surgically removed it.

5. Cast a Shared Vision “Then the woman in her wisdom went to all the people. And they cut off the head of Sheba the son of Bichri, and threw it out to Joab. Then he blew a trumpet, and they withdrew from the city, every man to his tent.” — 2 Samuel 20:22

Her final act was to take what Joab had told her and bring it back to her people with enough clarity and conviction that they acted together. The city was unified. The army withdrew. Peace was restored. Vision, shared vision, is what ends a siege. And it almost always takes a wise voice willing to carry that vision across the room.

Prayer

Jesus, I can’t thank You enough for the wise woman You have given me as my wife and as the mother of our five boys. Time and time again over the years, Cyndi has saved our household through these very steps. When I lost my temper with the boys, she would step in and tell me to take a walk and pray until I could address the situation with a clear head and a calm spirit. This was de-escalation through clear communication. When the boys were arguing about anything and everything, she would bring them back to our core values found in You and say, “The Burgess family doesn’t treat people like that, because Jesus doesn’t treat us like that”. This was defining who we are by whose we are. And time around the table throughout the years as we kept sharing a meal, praying through a trial, celebrating a breakthrough is what has kept us anchored to a shared vision bigger than any one conflict or season.

Thank You, Jesus, for Cyndi. For my mom. For my mother-in-law. For all the women in my life who continue, day after day, to decapitate division and restore vision everywhere they go. May we all learn to follow their lead.

“He who receives you receives Me, and he who receives Me receives Him who sent Me. He who receives a prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive a prophet’s reward. And he who receives a righteous man in the name of a righteous man shall receive a righteous man’s reward. And whoever gives one of these little ones only a cup of cold water in the name of a disciple, assuredly, I say to you, he shall by no means lose his reward.” — Matthew 10:40-42

Observation

Jesus is making an argument His Jewish audience would have recognized immediately. In their culture, a person’s representative was the person himself. He starts with the obvious example — a prophet who speaks God’s words to God’s people. Then He widens the circle: what about receiving a righteous person? Yes, a righteous reward follows. But then Jesus does what Jesus always does — He blows past the velvet rope entirely. He points to the lowest person on the social totem pole: a child. When we serve a child, we are serving God and representing Jesus Himself.

Serve a prophet? Absolutely. Serve a child? Shouldn’t children be serving us? The religious leaders of Jesus’ day kept trying to shrink the scope of God’s love, and Jesus kept stretching it to cover the whole world. A few chapters later, He’d tell the parable of servants going out to the highways — to the Gentile nations — to invite “both good and bad” to the wedding feast (Matthew 22:1-14). The guest list was always bigger than anyone wanted to admit.

So here’s the bottom line: we represent Jesus, we serve Jesus, we are Jesus with skin on, when we meet practical needs — a cup of cold water — in order to meet the real need: salvation. Meeting someone’s felt need opens the door wide to meeting their deepest need. So why do we keep making evangelism so complicated?

Application

Today is a rare and sacred alignment of provision and passion. I have a lifelong devotion to tacos, and Taco Tuesday has finally landed on Cinco de Mayo — giving me both the excuse and the moral obligation to eat as many as possible. I feel like I’ve been training for this day my entire life.

They say the only bad taco is the one you don’t eat. Living in San Diego feels like divine reward for years of faithful taco stewardship. No matter the craving, someone is serving:

• Best Birria: Agave in Leucadia

• Best Al Pastor: TJ Tacos in Escondido or Los Tacos in Oceanside

• Best Seafood: Haggo’s in Encinitas or Tacos El Germán food truck in San Marcos

• Best Casual/Street Style: Juanita’s in Encinitas

• Best 69-Cent Tacos: Primo’s Market (Vista/Oceanside)

Now — how ridiculous would it be if I only ate tacos on Taco Tuesday? And what a tragedy it would be to wait five yearsfor Taco Tuesday and Cinco de Mayo to align before I finally indulged? Laughable, right?

How much more sad, then, to limit our evangelism to a pastor preaching on a Sunday? How much more wasteful to reserve our passion for people’s salvation only for those who look like us, think like us, or are already comfortable to be around? Just like the religious leaders of Jesus’ day, we keep trying to put a fence around the love of God.

Jesus makes it pretty simple. He has provided the path to salvation and He wants to give us the passion to represent Him to everyone who is hungry. See a need? Fill the need. That’s how you represent Jesus.

Could it really be as simple as handing a cup of water to a thirsty child? Or inviting a friend to join you for carne asada tacos around the fire pit at our next Men’s Fire Night? Or knocking on the door of a stranger and offering to clean their yard — for free, no strings attached?

Yes. Yes. And yes.

We had no idea, when we knocked on the door of the Bustamante family, that they had felt so utterly alone — and God so impossibly far away. But Robert and Christina and their family felt, in that moment, like God had finally heard their cry. They gave their lives to Christ at our Good Friday service and were water baptized two weeks later. Fox 5 News even showed up to interview them as they came back out with our team to help clean the yards of other neighbors in need. (Check out the news coverage right here.)

That is Jesus with skin on. That is Jesus every single day. That is tacos — not just on Tuesdays or Cinco de Mayo — hot and ready for whoever is hungry.

All this world really needs is the love of Jesus shown through His people.

And fresh tacos.

Prayer

Jesus, You said that when we serve someone who is hungry or thirsty, we are serving You. Forgive me for shrinking the reach of Your love down to what is familiar, convenient, or already on my calendar. You have placed something more valuable in my hands than I often recognize — and I want to steward it better.

If I want to see more stories like the Bustamantes’, I need to stay more open to Your spontaneous leading — out of my comfort zone and into the need right in front of me. Thank You for the transformative work You are doing in so many lives at The Father’s House.

And thank You, Jesus, for tacos.

“Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won’t collapse because it is built on bedrock.” — Matthew 7:24–25

Observation

Jesus concludes the Sermon on the Mount with this parable of the wise and foolish builders. It illustrates the absolute necessity of living out what He has taught over the past several chapters. Jesus addressed every area of our lives, calling us to be fully submitted to His will. In other words, every room in this house, built on the solidity of God’s will and filled with His Spirit, will be able to endure whatever storms life throws at us.

Jesus makes it clear that many will claim to be His followers, will even look like a beautiful beachfront Christian home on the outside, while filled with rooms of rebellion, entirely blocked off from public view and locked off from the Holy Spirit’s leading. In fact, the verses just before this parable drive home that point with some of the scariest “wake-up call” verses in all of Scripture: “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the Kingdom of Heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in Heaven” (Matt. 7:21).

Using the house metaphor, there were rooms where they prophesied, cast out demons, and did many wonders in the name of Jesus (v. 22). So, from the outside, this would have looked like a powerful ministry and a dedicated disciple of Christ. Yet on the inside there were rooms where they lived in rebellion, compartmentalizing their public ministry and their private world. They were professionals at projecting public piety without an inward intimacy with Christ, so much so that even if the storms of this life never revealed the truth of their self-deception, their Day of Judgment reality would be inescapable.

All that is hidden will be brought to light, either in this life or in the next. There will be a day when many prominent ministers will be shocked to hear these words from the Savior: “I never knew you. Depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness!” (v. 23). When we don’t practice a pursuit of His presence, when we compartmentalize our lives, when we pick and choose which areas to seal off and which to submit, we are practicing lawlessness too.

Application

Why are so many unsinkable ministries going under right now? According to J.D. Greear Ministries, up to 40% of pastors report having had an extramarital affair since beginning their ministry, while 50% admit to using pornography and 37% report inappropriate sexual behavior with someone in the church. How is it possible to preach one thing publicly and live another privately? Compartmentalized Christianity.

Pastor Nicky Gumbel shared an insight recently that speaks to the dangers of compartmentalizing our faith. James Cameron, director of Titanic, describes the ship as a metaphor for life: “We are all living on… the Titanic.” When the Titanic set sail in 1912, it was declared “unsinkable” because of a new technology: the ship’s hull was divided into sixteen watertight compartments. Up to four could be damaged or flooded and the ship would still float.

Tragically, the Titanic sank on April 15, 1912, at 2:20 a.m., taking 1,513 lives with her. At the time, investigators believed five watertight compartments had been ruptured in the collision with an iceberg. But on September 1, 1985, when the wreck was discovered lying upright on the ocean floor, there was no sign of the long gash previously thought to have been torn in the hull. What they found instead was that damage to one compartment had compromised all the rest.

Many people make the Titanic mistake. They think they can divide their lives into separate compartments or rooms so that what happens in one won’t affect the rest. But as Rick Warren says, “A life of integrity is one that is not divided into compartments.” Jesus knew the only way to be truly unsinkable in the waters of a sinful world, or to weather the lashing of life’s storms, was to build a house of obedience where the Holy Spirit fills every room.

We can either live a compartmentalized life that looks strong on the outside but is sinking underneath… or a Spirit-filled life where God holds everything together and we know Him intimately. “For His divine power has bestowed on us everything necessary for a dynamic spiritual life and godliness, through true and personal knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and excellence.” (2 Peter 1:3)

Prayer

Jesus, it all comes down to whether or not I’m actually doing what You asked me to. So I’ll keep asking, seeking, and knocking to know Your will and to do it. I’ll keep coming as a child to his Father, asking for Your good gifts to be manifested in my life for Your glory. I want to walk in prophecy, casting out demons, and seeing signs and wonders, not so that people can see me, but so they can see You.

I pray that the outward expression of Your spiritual gifts would be anchored by the inward integrity of Your spiritual fruit. Instead of trying to curate a public perception, show me every private room that has been locked off to You: the wounds You want to heal, the foundational truths You want to reveal, the intimacy You want with me. All of this freedom is waiting on the other side of repentance and surrender.

I want You more than I want Your gifts. I want to see You more than I want to be seen. Inside before outside, every time.

Scripture
“May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.”
— 2 Corinthians 13:14

Observation

This is a powerful Trinitarian benediction—but it comes at the end of a painful story. Paul’s first letter to Corinth didn’t land the way he hoped. The church was still divided and questioning his leadership, tolerating sin, and operating out of pride instead of humility. He even made a personal visit, and things didn’t immediately improve. Yet through it all, Paul never stopped loving them. By the end of this second letter, there’s progress but not perfection. There’s still a small faction resisting. And into that tension, Paul speaks this final prayer.

Not a rebuke.
Not a defense.
A blessing.

He prays that the community of the Trinity would shape the community of the church. The word “fellowship” is koinonia—the same word used in Acts 2:42 when the church was born. It’s not casual connection. It’s deep, Spirit-formed, others-first community. It’s the cement in the wall—binding us to Christ and to one another. It’s the presence of God in the people of God, walking out the purposes of God in the world around them. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, “The church is the church only when it exists for others.”And Francis Chan puts it bluntly: “We were not meant to be consumers of church—we are called to be a community of people who love deeply and live differently.” That kind of community confronts the selfishness of our culture. And it’s exactly what people are starving for.

Application

There’s a recurring dream—honestly, more like a nightmare—that pastors have.

You’re on stage.
A room full of people staring at you.
And everything goes wrong.

Notes missing.
Mic not working.
Wrong outfit.
Total chaos.

Well… that nightmare became reality this Easter.

Our team had tested a 5-minute video multiple times—no issues. It was the bridge into my message. I was in the lobby, greeting guests, pointing out the coffee truck, showing kids the donut wall, meeting families.

Worship ended. Perfect timing. I knew I had five minutes.

Then suddenly… a sound came through the speakers that I can only describe as demonic.

Distorted. Loud. Unbearable.

They wisely shut it off immediately. Which meant… a packed room sitting in silence… staring at an empty stage. I took off running down the aisle, jumped on stage, and said something like, “Well… that was fun. Happy Easter!”

Heart racing.
Mind scrambling.

Then I looked down… no iPad.

My notes were gone. So, in front of our largest crowd of the weekend, I said, “Hey… if someone could find my iPad, that would be great.” Miraculously, the team found it in time, handed it to me, and I rolled straight into the message.

But here’s what’s wild…

No one cared about my nightmare. No one talked about the glitch. No one mentioned the awkward moment. What they talked about was community.

They talked about the cardboard testimonies and all the stories of death to life.
They talked about the worship.
They talked about the raw, honest testimony from David Escovedo.

And over and over I heard: “I’ve been to a lot of Easter services… but I’ve never experienced anything like this. This met me right where I am.”

Hands went up to receive Christ. Lives were changed.

And it hit me:

What the Church had in the 1st century… is what people are still searching for in the 21st.

Not perfection.
Presence.

Not performance.
People.

Not a flawless program but a Spirit-filled, grace-soaked, love-driven, koinonia community.

Is the grace of Jesus evident?
Is the love of God on display?
Is the fellowship of the Spirit tangible?

Do these people actually love each other? Do they actually want to be here?

No one noticed my Easter nightmare because my Easter dream had come true.

God is moving at The Father’s House.

People aren’t coming for a perfect service.
They’re coming for an encounter with God—
and a community that feels like home.

Prayer

As I was writing this, Kim Henson—the house where this church was born—texted Cyndi and me what felt like a prophetic word: “There is something stirring and igniting… we can all feel it. God’s timing is perfect. There’s so much more to come—so we need to buckle up and be ready.” Lord, forgive me for getting so focused on perfecting the program that I lose sight of Your presence. Forgive me for making it about performance when it’s always been about people. Thank You that You move despite our flaws, failures, and misplaced focus. Thank You for letting me witness what You’re building as a true, Spirit-filled community. You are so good. And I can’t wait to see what You do next at The Father’s House.

2 Corinthians 6:1–2
“Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”

Observation

Is it really possible to miss the grace of God? Not because it isn’t offered, but because we miss the moment. God is always at work moving, stirring and drawing. He’s doing a thousand things at once in people’s lives… and we’re aware of maybe three. And yet, He invites us in. “Working together” (Greek word for synergy) means we don’t just believe in God we get to partner with Him. Faith isn’t passive. It’s participatory. As James 2:22 says, faith and works are working together with faith coming alive in real time. And here’s the tension: If I don’t want someone else to miss their moment TO Jesus, I can’t afford to miss my moment FROM Jesus. Because God doesn’t work on our schedule.

There’s chronos—clock time.
And there’s kairos—God’s time.

Kairos is the moment heaven leans in. The exact second a heart is ready. The divine intersection of readiness and opportunity.

“There are moments that define us—and moments that invite us. Wisdom is knowing the difference.God is never late, never early—He is always right on time. Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.” — Thomas Edison

God is creating kairos moments all around us and inviting us to step into them.

Application

I woke up this morning exhausted… and ecstatic. After four Easter weekend services, I watched our Living Lord change lives right in front of us. And in every conversation with all our new guests, I asked: “How did you hear about The Father’s House?” Every single time it came down to one thing: Someone invited them. A friend. A coworker. A neighbor. A family member. Kairos moments… sparked by simple obedience.

We had 35 people share “cardboard testimonies”— Before Jesus / After Jesus. And the stories were undeniable:

• Sentenced to life in prison → Now living a life for God

• Depression & suicidal thoughts → Freedom and identity in Christ

• Divorce → Restoration and remarriage

• Cancer diagnosis → Healing and new life

• Addiction, abuse, hopelessness → Rescue, freedom, purpose

This wasn’t hype. This was resurrection power. And when the invitation was given people responded. Friends. Coworkers. Whole families. Grandma to grandkids. This was a kairos moment. But here’s the truth:

Easter wasn’t the finish line it was the starting line.

We cannot reduce a transformational moment into a transactional one. This isn’t just about Sunday. It’s about Monday. Not just one day, but every day. Revival is not an event it’s a lifestyle of saying yes to God. Hebrews 3 reminds us: “Encourage one another daily… while it is called Today.” Discipleship happens in the daily. That’s where transformation sticks.

Prayer

Jesus, I’m in awe of You. Thank You for letting me step into these eternal, life-changing moments. What a privilege to partner with You. I lift up the 27 people who said yes to You this weekend. I pray they would feel Your presence today in a real and undeniable way. And Lord, even in my exhaustion don’t let me miss the moment. My body may be tired, but my spirit is alive. I don’t want to coast I want to continue with what You’re doing in the timing You’re doing it in! Here I am again. Ready for the next NOW!

Observation

Gideon’s story is one of the most sobering in all of Scripture. He went from hiding in a threshing floor… to leading a miraculous victory. From testing God with wet wool… to trusting Him with 300 men. From tearing down idols… to unintentionally building one. He refused a crown—but still craved control.

“I will not rule over you… the Lord will rule over you. However…” (Judges 8:23–24)

That “however” changed everything. It didn’t look like rebellion. It looked reasonable.
Just a small request. Just a little recognition. But what Gideon collected in gold, he forged into an ephod…And what he built as a symbol became a snare.

He started his journey tearing down false worship—and ended it creating a new version of it.

“Pride comes before a fall” (Proverbs 16:18) isn’t just a warning—it’s a pattern. Even the Temple, designed as a meeting place with God, became an idol factory.
Which is why when Jesus enters Jerusalem during Holy Week, His first stop isn’t the Cross… it’s the Temple.

He flips tables.

“My house will be called a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves.” (Matthew 21:13)

Before Jesus deals with sin on the Cross, He confronts idolatry in the heart.

Application

Yesterday, I launched a new series: “I Believe: Death to Life”—walking through the Nicene Creed. It begins with a bold declaration: “We believe in one God…” In a world full of competing allegiances, this is a line in the sand. Because it’s actually easier to trust God for the afterlife…than to trust Him as enough for everyday life.

That’s where idols sneak in.

Work.
Approval.
Relationships.
Platform.

Things we don’t bow instead of Jesus… but subtly bow alongside Him.

As Pastor Glenn Packiam writes:

“Idolatry is asking something finite to give you something ultimate.”

Then the question hit me hard: “Where have you been living like God isn’t enough?”

And suddenly… it wasn’t rhetorical. It was Jesus asking me. Right there, mid-message, I felt the conviction of the Holy Spirit. I dropped to my knees. No words. Just tears. Why? Because God was confronting an idol I didn’t want to admit was there:
people-pleasing. Wanting to impress. Wanting approval. Wanting to be seen.

When I finally could speak, I repented—out loud. Then invited our church to do the same. It was a holy moment. Jesus flipping tables, not in the Temple, but in my heart. And it was His mercy. Because what He confronts, He frees. And what He exposes, He heals.

Prayer

Lord, I don’t want to undo what You’ve done through me by starting to believe it was because of me. Gideon thought an ephod was harmless, but pride had already taken the throne in his heart. It always starts small. It always whispers first. Give the enemy a closet… and he’ll take the castle. Search me. Show me any place where pride is growing…any place where I’m stealing Your glory… any place where I’ve built something in my image instead of Yours. Remind me: this is not my house, it’s Yours.
This is not my platform, it’s Yours. This is not my glory, it’s Yours. Tear down every idol… starting with me.

7No, the wisdom we speak of is the mystery of God—his plan that was previously hidden, even though he made it for our ultimate glory before the world began. 8But the rulers of this world have not understood it; if they had, they would not have crucified our glorious Lord. 1 Corinthians 2:7-8

Observation

Why does it feel like I’ve never read this before? Satan (2 Cor. 4:4) and his demons (Col. 2:15) couldn’t see the plan of redemption God had from before Creation. They thought they had won but the nails in Christ on The Cross were the final nails on their own coffin. Sin, death, and hell were conquered while, the whole time, they were convinced they had defeated God. The Cross continues to confound because the wisdom of this age can’t understand why God only reveals His plans to those who follow Him. The very circumstances the enemy uses to try and defeat us are the very situations God uses to defeat the enemy. This is such a good reminder. The Devil isn’t on equal footing with God. Only God is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent. No matter how much the Devil tries to convince us that he is stronger and our future is doomed, he still doesn’t have the full picture of our lives. Only God does! The Cross will continue to confound yet what He reveals to His people is profound: “But it was to us that God revealed these things by his Spirit. For his Spirit searches out everything and shows us God’s deep secrets.” 1 Cor. 2:10

Application

The story of of St Patrick is a powerful illustration of how the Cross continues to confound the devil and turn his plans against him:

Suffering Often leads to Salvation

Patrick was born around AD 385 in Roman Britain (likely modern-day England or Wales). His father was a deacon and his grandfather a priest, but Patrick later admitted that he didn’t take his faith seriously as a teenager. At age 16, everything changed. Irish raiders attacked his village, kidnapped him, and sold him into slavery in Ireland. For six years he worked as a shepherd, isolated in the cold hills of Ireland. But something unexpected happened in that wilderness.Patrick wrote later: “The love of God and the fear of Him grew in me more and more.” He began praying constantly, sometimes 100 prayers a day. His suffering became the place where his faith was born. The suffering of Christ led to our ultimate salvation. Many times that which threatens to crush us is that which actually leads us to The Cross.

God Often Calls Us To Go Back In Order To Go Forward

After six years, Patrick had a dream where God told him:“Your ship is ready.” He escaped slavery and walked nearly 200 miles across Ireland to the coast, where he found a ship returning to Britain. Eventually he made it home to his family. But the story didn’t end there though Im sure Patrick wished it had. Soon after returning home, Patrick had another dream. In it he saw a man from Ireland handing him letters titled “The Voice of the Irish.”

He heard the people crying out: “We beg you, holy boy, to come and walk among us again.” The people who had enslaved him… were now the people God called him to reach.

Choosing Reconciliation and Restoration over Resentment

Instead of resentment, Patrick felt compassion. He spent years studying Scripture and preparing for ministry. Then he returned to Ireland, not as a slave…but as a missionary. When Patrick arrived back in Ireland, the island was dominated by pagan druid religion and tribal warfare.

But Patrick didn’t conquer with power. He preached the gospel, planted churches, and discipled leaders. He explained the Trinity using everyday language and imagery (later legends associate the shamrock with this teaching).

Over decades of ministry:

• Thousands converted to Christ

• Hundreds of churches were planted

• Indigenous Irish leaders were trained

Patrick focused on reaching tribal chiefs, knowing whole communities would follow. Patrick never saw himself as famous. In his own writings he called himself: “A sinner… the least of all believers.” But by the time he died around AD 461, Ireland had been profoundly transformed by the gospel.

Historians credit Patrick with helping launch what became the Irish missionary movement, which later sent missionaries throughout Europe during the Dark Ages. What the enemy had meant for harm God turned for good. What should have leveled Patrick’s story actually launched it in to the grand purposes of God.

Prayer

What a powerful reminder that the only One who actually knows how my story ends is the One who sees the beginning from the end. Where do I need be reminded that forgiveness and mission is what You’ve called me to and often means reaching the very people who have hurt or rejected me. This is what is so confounding about The Cross. I don’t deserve what You did for me, but while I cursed You, turned my back on You, denied You, and blamed You, still You died and rose for me! This doesn’t make any sense outside of Your love! The confounding story You are writing is something the Devil isn’t seeing but You are revealing to those who seek You!

“The one who used to persecute us is now preaching the very faith he tried to destroy!” “And they praised God because of me.” Galatians 1:23-24

Observation

The radical “flip the script” transformation of Paul the Apostle became a testimony that glorified God and strengthened the faith of others. His story of meeting Jesus and being personally commissioned by Him went far and wide. The persecutor became the preacher and the church praised God because of it.

That’s the power of a Savior Story. In the same way John the Apostle was an eyewitness to the life of Jesus and His teaching, His miracles, His crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. John writes with the confidence of someone who personally saw and heard the Son of God.

“We proclaim to you what we ourselves have actually seen and heard so that you may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. We are writing these things so that you may fully share our joy.” 1 John 1:3-4

But notice the purpose behind his testimony: connection and joy. John says that when we share what we’ve seen and heard, it creates fellowship. The Greek word he uses is koinonia. Unfortunately, the English word “fellowship” doesn’t quite capture it. Koinonia speaks of deep relational participation—an intimate, shared life together with God and one another. In other words, testimony creates community. And that community produces joy.

Application

Honestly, I used to read the words the Apostles and miss the point. They talk about sharing what they had actually seen and heard of Jesus, and I thought to myself, Well, of course he did—he walked with Him physically. I assumed my story was somehow a lesser witness.

Then it was almost like the Holy Spirit gently asked me, “So…you’ve never seen or heard Me do anything in your life?” That stopped me in my tracks. Of course I have.

My entire life has been filled with the fingerprints of God from before I was even born (Gal. 1:15). Suddenly I realized something: our Savior Stories are simply the record of what we’ve seen and heard Jesus do in our lives. And people desperately need to hear them. So what keeps us quiet?

Sometimes it’s comparison:
“My story isn’t as dramatic as theirs.”

Sometimes it’s shame:
“I don’t want people to know what I went through.”

Sometimes it’s false humility:
“I don’t want attention on me.”

Sometimes it’s fear:
“I don’t want to sound like a religious fanatic.”

But here’s the truth: People need to know Jesus is real—and your story is the proof.

As evangelist D. L. Moody once said:

“There is no better evangelist in the world than the Holy Spirit—and no better witness than a changed life.”

We live in a world drowning in misery, addiction, confusion, and defeat. Nobody is looking around and saying, “You know what we need less of? Hope.”

They need joy. And John says joy multiplies when we share what we’ve seen and heard.

I saw this firsthand when I was in the hospital fighting double COVID pneumonia. Thousands of people were praying for me. Five days later I walked out of the hospital without oxygen—a living testimony that God is still moving.

And I’ve been sharing that story ever since. Recently a young woman from my sons’ Bible college came up to me and thanked me. She said she shared my story with her brother who was in the hospital fighting the same illness. She told me:

“Your story is what got him through it.” He’s now home and recovering. Praise God!

Literally, as I was writing this, my Pop called me and told me my Mom is in the hospital with labored breathing and pneumonia. I reminded them of my story of healing and prayed that the same God who did it then would do it again!

That’s koinonia. That’s connection that never would have existed if I had kept my Savior Story to myself. And here’s the beautiful part: John uses a word for “proclaim” that means to keep declaring it again and again. Everywhere Paul went, whether Jew or Gentile, he would share his Savior Story from the Road to Damascus.

So how often should we share our Savior Story? All the time.

Because every time we do, we remind someone: Jesus is alive.

As pastor Charles Spurgeon once said:

“Every Christian is either a missionary or an imposter.”

Our stories are not about glorifying ourselves—they’re about glorifying God.

Just like Paul.

“The one who used to persecute us is now preaching the faith he tried to destroy… and they praised God.”

That’s the goal of every Savior Story.

Not that people would think more of us—but that they would think more of Jesus.

Prayer

Lord, I give You all the glory for what I have seen and heard You do in my life. Help me not to second-guess my story or keep it to myself. There’s a world out there longing to believe that You are real. Let my life be proof that You are alive and moving in our midst today. Teach me to be bold in sharing my Savior Story so others may experience the same joy and connection that comes from knowing You. Let me be a conduit, not a cul-de-sac, of what You are doing in the world. Amen.