“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.” Galatians 5:22-23

This past Sunday at my church, we looked at Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:15-20, where He tells us that a tree is recognized by its fruit. It’s a simple but powerful illustration. If we want to know what kind of tree it is, look at what kind of fruit it produces. In the same way, Jesus teaches that our lives produce fruit, and that fruit reveals what is happening in our hearts.

This raises an important question for all of us: What kind of fruit is our life producing?

When people interact with us, do they experience love or anger? Peace or anxiety? Kindness or harshness? Faithfulness or inconsistency? The fruit of our lives tells a story about what is taking root beneath the surface. While it can be uncomfortable to examine ourselves honestly, it’s a healthy exercise because Jesus wants our lives to reflect His character.

The good news is that producing good fruit is not primarily about trying harder. Many of us have spent seasons attempting to manufacture spiritual growth through our own effort and determination. Yet Scripture teaches that true spiritual fruit is the work of the Holy Spirit within us. Galatians 5 reminds us that love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control are not merely personality traits; they are evidence of God’s Spirit at work in a surrendered life.

Think about a fruit tree for a moment. An apple tree does not strain and struggle to produce apples. But when it is rooted, watered, nourished, and connected to its source of life, it remains healthy. And the fruit naturally follows. In much the same way, when we remain connected to Jesus, spiritual fruit begins to grow in our lives.

Jesus said in John 15:5: “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit.” Notice that Jesus does not say we might bear fruit. He says we will bear fruit. Fruit is the natural result of abiding in Him.

As we spend time in God’s Word, seek Him in prayer, worship Him, and walk in obedience, the Holy Spirit gradually transforms us from the inside out. We begin to respond differently: we become more patient with difficult people; more gracious when wronged; more joyful in difficult circumstances; more faithful in our commitments. The change may be slow, but it is real.

So rather than focusing solely on the fruit, focus on the relationship. Draw near to Jesus. Stay connected to Him. Seek Him daily in His Word and in prayer. As we do, the Holy Spirit will continue His work in our life, producing the kind of fruit that reflects the heart and character of Christ.

One of the great struggles we face in life is the temptation to compare ourselves to others. And comparison can pull us in two very different directions. Sometimes we look at someone else’s life and think, I wish I was more like them. We see their gifts, personality, appearance, success, family, or spiritual life, and suddenly what God has given us doesn’t seem like enough. 

At other times, comparison moves us towards pride. We look at someone else’s failures and think, “At least I’m not as bad as them.” But either way, comparison keeps our eyes focused on the wrong things.

Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 10:12: “When they measure themselves by themselves and compare themselves with themselves, they are not wise.” Comparison was never meant to be the standard for our lives. Other people are not our measuring stick: Jesus is. And when we look at Jesus, we quickly realize that all of us fall short and all of us are in need of His grace.

One of the dangers of comparison is that it keeps us from becoming the person God created us to be. We spend so much time trying to imitate someone else that we fail to embrace the unique calling, personality, gifts, and story God has given us. Yet throughout Scripture we see that God delights in using different kinds of people. Moses struggled with insecurity. Peter was impulsive. Martha was task-oriented. David was a shepherd. Lydia was a businesswoman. None of them were called to be each other. God transformed them as they surrendered themselves to Him.

And that’s the beauty of the Gospel. God is not asking us to become cheap imitations of someone else. He’s inviting us to become authentic versions of who He created us to be. Ephesians 2:10 reminds us, “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” God intentionally created each of us, and He loves us deeply. Our value isn’t found in being better than others or becoming someone we’re not. Our value is found in being loved by Him.

Comparison will always rob us of joy, peace, and purpose. But when we fix our eyes on Jesus and allow Him to shape our lives, we begin to discover the freedom of simply being who God has called us to be. And, when we seek Him and surrender our lives to Him, we are more than enough for whatever calling He has placed on our lives.

On Sunday mornings, I’ve been walking through a series on the Sermon on the Mount. And one of the things we’ve continually seen throughout this series is just how high the calling of Jesus really is. 

As we read His words, we realize that Jesus isn’t simply concerned with outward behavior—He’s after our hearts. He talks about topics like anger, lust, pride, worry, forgiveness, loving enemies, and living with purity and sincerity before God. And the deeper we look at His teaching the more aware we become of our own sin and failures.

That realization can quickly turn into shame. We can begin to focus on our failures; our weaknesses; our inconsistencies. We start believing the lie that our struggles somehow disqualify us from being loved or from being used by God. But the Gospel reminds us of something incredibly important: Jesus did not come to shame us. He came to save us.

Hebrews 12:2 says, “Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before Him He endured the cross, scorning its shame…” That phrase—scorning its shame—is powerful. In the Roman world, the cross represented humiliation, disgrace, and rejection. Crucifixion was designed not only to bring pain and death, but also public shame. Yet Jesus willingly endured it. Why? Because He was taking upon Himself the shame of our sin so that we would no longer have to live under its weight.

The enemy wants us trapped in shame. Shame says, “You’re a failure.” It compels us to hide from God. It says, “You’ll never amount to anything.” But conviction from the Holy Spirit isn’t shame. Conviction draws us toward God, not away from Him. It lovingly reveals what needs healing so we can experience transformation in and through Christ.

We see this throughout Scripture. After Adam and Eve sinned, shame caused them to hide in the garden. But God came looking for them. When Peter denied Jesus three times, he was overwhelmed with failure and regret. Yet after the resurrection, Jesus went to him and restored him with grace and purpose. God does not expose our weaknesses to humiliate us—He reveals them so He can heal us.

The Sermon on the Mount was never meant to drive us into despair. It was meant to show us our need for Jesus. Every command, every challenge, every moment we realize “I can’t do this perfectly,” points us back to the One who can. It reminds us that righteousness is not something we achieve through our own effort—it’s something we receive through Christ.

Romans 8:1 reminds us, “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” So, when the weight of failure tries to turn into shame, remember the cross. Remember that Jesus already carried our shame. Remember that His grace is greater than our weaknesses and failures. And instead of hiding from Him, we need to draw near to Him. Because the same Savior who reveals our brokenness is also the One who restores us with love, mercy, and righteousness.

In last week’s blog, I asked the question: Who are we listening to? And that question naturally leads to another one: How do we actually hear God’s voice? Because if we’re going to be people who follow His voice, we need to know how to recognize it.

In John 10:27, Jesus says, “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” That’s a powerful promise—but it can also feel a little intimidating if we’re honest. Because most of us who have stepped out in faith have wondered, “Am I really hearing God… or are these just my own thoughts?”

And one thing I think we need to understand is that God is not trying to hide His voice from us. He’s not distant or silent, waiting for us to figure it all out on our own. He is a good Father who desires to speak to His children. So, the question isn’t if God is speaking… it’s whether we’re learning how to recognize His voice.

And I think one of the primary ways we do that is through His Word. God will never speak in a way that contradicts what He has already revealed in Scripture. So the more time we spend in His Word, the more familiar we become with His heart, His character, and His voice.

It’s similar to how we recognize someone we’re close to. If a close friend calls us, they don’t need to introduce themselves—we know their voice because we’ve spent time with them. The same is true with God. Familiarity comes through relationship.

Another way we learn to recognize His voice is by paying attention to what His voice sounds like. God’s voice brings peace—even when it challenges us.
It leads us toward truth, not confusion. It draws us closer to Him, not further away. 

And hearing God’s voice is sometimes about stepping away from the other noises. We live in a loud world, full of constant input, constant distraction, and constant opinions. But often, God speaks in the quiet. Which means we have to be intentional about taking time to turn down the noise and actually listen for His voice.

And here’s something I want to encourage us with—Hearing God’s voice is not something we master overnight, it’s actually something we grow in and develop over time and with practice.

There will be moments where we’re unsure. Moments where we’re learning.
Moments where we look back and realize, God was leading us there all along. That’s part of the journey.

Jesus didn’t just say, “My sheep hear my voice.” He also said, “I know them.” This points to an intimate relationship with Him. He knows us. He’s with us. And He’s faithful to lead us.

So maybe the first step we need to take in hearing His voice is seeking to know Him more intimately. Get away from the noise. Open His Word. Spend time in His presence. And trust that we will begin to recognize His voice more clearly as we draw near to Him.

“Then Caleb silenced the people before Moses and said, ‘“We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it.”’ -Numbers 13:30

I’ve found that it doesn’t matter where you go or which way you turn, we’re continuously surrounded by voices. And all of them are telling us something different. We turn on the news, and there’s one perspective. We scroll through social media, and there’s another. We talk to people, and everyone has their own opinion about what’s right, what’s wrong, and what we need to do.

It can feel overwhelming. There are moments where it’s easy to wonder, “What voices should I be listening to?” Because we know they can’t all be right.

And we’re not just hearing all these voices, we’re constantly being shaped by them. Which leads me to an important question for all of us to think about: Who are we really listening to? Because not every voice is leading us in the same direction.

In Numbers 13, we see a moment where the people of Israel are faced with competing voices. Caleb stands up and says, “We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it.” He’s not ignoring the reality of what’s in front of them—he just knows what God has already said. His confidence isn’t in himself… it’s in God’s promise.

But then the other ten spies speak up: “We can’t attack those people; they are stronger than we are.” These spies are talking about the same people, same land, same circumstances that Caleb was speaking about. But we have two very different voices.

The people chose to listen to the voices that were rooted in fear instead of the voice that was rooted in faith. Because of that, what should have been a moment of stepping into God’s promise turned into 40 years of wandering in the wilderness. And when we read about this moment, it’s easy to think—How could they miss it? But if we’re honest, we’re not that different.

As I mentioned, we’re surrounded by voices too. Voices that tell us to be afraid. Voices that tell us to play it safe. Voices that magnify the obstacles and minimize God.  And if we’re not careful, we can start to give more weight to those voices than we give to God.

Jesus says in John 10:27, “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” As His people, we’re not just meant to hear His voice—we’re meant to follow it.

The voices we listen to will shape the direction of our lives. If we listen to fear, we’ll live cautiously and hold back. If we listen to doubt, we’ll hesitate and miss what God has for us. But if we listen to God, we’ll walk in faith—even when it doesn’t fully make sense.

Caleb didn’t have a different situation—he just had a different perspective. He chose to trust what God said over what he saw and over what everyone else was saying. And I think that’s the invitation for us today. To slow down. To be intentional about what voices we’re allowing to speak into our lives. To spend time in God’s Word and in His presence. And to surround ourselves with people who speak with faith, not fear.

Because who we listen to will either lead us into God’s promises—or keep us wandering in circles. So maybe today we ask ourselves: What voices have I been giving the most attention to? And are these voices pointing me toward trust in God—or away from it?

Let’s be people who choose to listen to the voice of the One who is always faithful, always true, and always leading us closer to Him.

“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’” -2 Corinthians 12:9

The past several weeks have been one of those seasons for me: the kind where the demands just keep stacking up; the kind where your time doesn’t feel like your own. As a pastor, I know that comes with the calling—but if we’re honest, this isn’t just a “pastor thing.” This is a life thing. Many of us are walking through seasons right now where the weight feels heavier, the schedule feels fuller, and the margin we once had feels like it’s disappeared.

Some of that comes from our own struggle to say no. But a lot of it is simply life unfolding in front of us—unexpected situations, real needs, real people, and real pressures that demand our time and attention.

The last few weeks, I’ve finished writing my sermon much later in the week than I normally do. And in the middle of the week, I’ve found myself asking those questions we’ve all asked before: How am I going to get everything done? How am I going to keep up? But it’s in those moments that I’ve heard the Lord whispering the words: “My grace is sufficient for you.”

That word “sufficient” means enough. In Him, I have enough strength, enough wisdom, enough endurance, enough peace, enough for whatever I need to make it through that day…to make it through the week.

The Apostle Paul heard those same words in the middle of his own struggle. He was dealing with something he desperately wanted God to remove from his life. And instead of removing it, God gave him something greater—His grace. Because sometimes God doesn’t take away the pressure. Sometimes He meets us in the middle of our challenges with a strength that we didn’t have before.

And this is difficult for us because we want God to just take it away. We want Him to bring us some relief. But instead, God often gives us resilience, which has reminded me that we’re actually right where God wants us when we come to the end of ourselves. That’s where we finally learn to depend on Him and that’s where He meets us with the fullness of His power.

For those who are carrying emotional weight right now…His grace is sufficient. For those battling anxiety or depression…His grace is sufficient.
For those facing circumstances that feel beyond our control…His grace is sufficient.

Psalm 46:1 reminds us, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” He’s not distant. He’s not delayed. He’s Present.

And whatever season we find ourselves in—whether it’s normal, busy, or overwhelming—May we remember His words to all of us: “My grace is sufficient for you.”

Jesus said in John 13:35, “By this everyone will know that you are My disciples, if you love one another.” What a powerful statement. Jesus did not say the world would recognize us by our buildings, our arguments, our social media posts, or our ability to win debates. He said they would know us by our love.

That verse feels especially important these days. We are surrounded by division. Everywhere we turn, there are lines being drawn—political lines, cultural lines, generational lines, and even lines within the church. Sadly, sometimes the place that should reflect the love of Christ the most can look just as fractured as the world around it.

I recently read this quote: “The more we focus on how different we are—the farther we get from one another.” There is truth in that. When differences become our main focus, distance grows. Walls rise. Hearts harden. But the opposite is true as well: the more we focus on what we have in common, the closer we can become.

As believers, what we have in common is greater than anything that could divide us. We have been saved by the same grace. We are loved by the same Savior. We are filled with the same Spirit. We are part of the same family of God. The cross of Jesus Christ is stronger than every label this world tries to place on us.

The enemy would love for the church to be distracted by lesser things. If he can keep us offended, suspicious, and divided, then our witness is weakened. But when the people of God walk in humility, patience, and love, the world takes notice.

Ephesians 4:2-3 says, “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.” Notice that unity takes effort. Love takes effort. Grace takes effort. Sometimes it means listening when we would rather argue. Sometimes it means showing kindness when we feel misunderstood. Sometimes it means remembering that the person across from us is someone Jesus deeply loves.

Imagine a family gathering where siblings disagree on many things, yet still sit around the same table because they value family more than conflict. In an even greater way, the church is called to gather around the table of Christ, remembering that what unites us is far more important than what separates us.

This does not mean truth does not matter. It does. But truth must always be carried in love. 1 Corinthians 13 reminds us that without love, even the greatest words and works amount to nothing.

So maybe the question for all of us today is this: Are people seeing the love of Jesus in us? Are they seeing a church that reflects His heart? Are we known more for our compassion than our criticism? Or are we letting less important things pull us apart?

May we be people who refuse to let outside influences pull us apart. May we keep Jesus at the center. May we remember that the world is not longing to see a church that wins arguments—it is longing to see a church that looks like Jesus. And when we love one another well, the world will know exactly who we belong to.

We live in a time where we are aware of almost everything. Within minutes, we can know what happened across the world, what crisis is unfolding in another state, what controversy is trending online, and what everyone else seems to think about it. We are flooded with information. But recently I heard a pastor say something that really stood out to me: “When your awareness outpaces your agency, what you are left with is anxiety.”

I’ll be honest—I had to look up the difference between those two words. Awareness is what we know, notice, and take in. While agency is our ability to act, influence, respond, and make meaningful choices. In other words, when we know far more than we can actually do something about, it can leave us feeling overwhelmed, helpless, and stressed.

Many of us know exactly what that feels like. We carry burdens that were never meant to be ours. We worry about problems we cannot solve, arguments we cannot fix, and futures we cannot control. It’s like drinking from a firehose of information and wondering why we feel so exhausted.

That’s why I think Paul gives us wise instruction in Philippians 4:8 when he says: “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” Paul understood that it matters deeply where we let our minds dwell. If we constantly fill our minds with chaos, fear, and outrage, our hearts will feel the weight of it. But when we intentionally focus on what is good, true, and life-giving, resilience begins to grow.

There is an old joke where a patient says to their doctor, “It hurts when I do this.” And the doctor replies saying, “Then don’t do that!” There’s a lot more wisdom in the doctor’s response than we may realize. If endless news consumption leaves us fearful, maybe we need to set up some boundaries. If social media steals our peace, maybe it is time to step back. If certain voices constantly stir anxiety, maybe we need to turn down the volume.

Resilience is not pretending life is easy. It’s learning where to place our attention. It’s remembering that while we cannot control everything that goes on around us, we can control what we allow to shape us. We may not have agency over every headline, but we do have agency over our habits, our thoughts, our prayers, our choices, and how we love the people right in front of us.

Jesus says in Matthew 6:34, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.” That’s not denial—it’s wisdom. God gives grace for today. He gives strength for today. He gives peace for today.

So perhaps the question is not, “How much more can I be aware of?” but, “What has God actually called me to do today?” Start there. Pray there. Serve there. Trust there. And let God carry what was never ours to carry.

“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” -Luke 9:23

This past week, we celebrated Easter and the resurrection of Jesus. It’s always a powerful and meaningful day as we gather together to remember what Christ has done for us. For many, Easter is the one day they attend church, the one day they pause to reflect on the reality of the cross and the empty tomb. And while that matters deeply, the truth is…Easter was never meant to be confined to a single Sunday.

 The resurrection of Jesus is meant to shape every single day of our lives.

Every morning we wake up is a reminder of the new life we have in Jesus. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead is the same power at work within us. Because of what He has done, we are offered grace when we don’t deserve it, mercy in our failures, and life where there once was none. That’s not just an Easter message—that’s an everyday reality.

But living in that reality requires a daily choice. Jesus makes it clear in Luke 9:23 that following Him is a daily surrender, not a one-time decision. Each day we are called to take up our cross, to lay down our own desires, and to follow Him. And while that isn’t always easy, it is always worth it. Because the life we find in Jesus is far greater than anything we could build on our own.

It’s in the daily walk with Him that we begin to experience His peace in the midst of chaos, His calm in the midst of the storms, and His presence in the midst of uncertainty. As Jesus reminds us in John 14:6, He is “the way and the truth and the life.” Not just once a year. Not just on Sundays. But every single day.

So as the excitement of Easter fades and life returns to its normal rhythm, may we not leave the resurrection behind. Instead, may we carry it with us into our everyday lives: in our homes; our workplaces; our conversations; and our decisions.

Because every day is Easter. Every day is an opportunity to walk in new life. And every day is a chance to follow Jesus more closely.

There’s something about Good Friday that invites us to slow down…to reflect…and to really consider what took place on the cross. In a world that moves fast and distracts easily, Good Friday calls us to pause and reflect. 

Isaiah 53:5 reminds us: “But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed.”  Those aren’t just poetic words—they are deeply personal. They remind us that what Jesus endured was for us.

The truth is, it’s easy to become familiar with the story. We’ve heard it, sung about it, maybe even built traditions around it. But Good Friday isn’t meant to be routine—it’s meant to be remembered. It’s the day love was put on display in the most unexpected way. Not through power, but through surrender. Not through victory as the world defines it, but through sacrifice.

As we picture Jesus on the cross, we’re reminded that this wasn’t just something that happened to Him—it was something He willingly stepped into. He carried our sin, our shame, our failures…every weight we deserved to bear.

I think about those who stood near the cross that day—confused, grieving, wondering how everything had gone so wrong. To them, it looked like the end. Darkness fell. Hope seemed lost. I’m guessing we’ve all had moments like that—where things didn’t make sense, where it felt like God was silent, where all we could see was the pain in front of us. Good Friday meets us in those places. It reminds us that even when we can’t see what God is doing, He is still working.

And that’s the tension of this day. When we think about all that Jesus went through…it is heavy, it is sobering, and it forces us to wrestle with the cost of our sin and the depth of God’s love. But it’s not the end of the story. Even as Jesus breathed His last breath and declared, “It is finished” (John 19:30), something was being completed. It wasn’t hope lost, but redemption secured. The cross wasn’t a defeat: it was a victory in disguise.

So today, let’s take a moment to reflect. What does Good Friday mean to us? Not just historically, but personally. What does it stir in our hearts when we realize that Jesus chose to go to the cross for us? May it humble us. May it move us. May it draw us closer to Him, as we remember that Sunday’s on the way!