Jesus never hurried past people. All through the Gospels, we see Him stop, notice, and give His full attention to those in front of Him—the Samaritan woman at the well, Zacchaeus in a tree, Matthew at his tax booth, and even a woman weeping at His feet. 

Each encounter shows us what it means to truly be present. Mark 10:21 captures it perfectly in just a few words: “Jesus looked at him and loved him.” Before speaking, before teaching, before offering truth—Jesus looked and loved. That’s the posture of presence.

When we read that verse slowly, we can almost feel the pause—Jesus taking a moment to really see the man standing before Him. He wasn’t distracted by the crowd or pressed by His schedule. He wasn’t thinking about the next person in line. He was right there, heart open, eyes focused, giving someone the dignity of being seen and known. That’s what love looks like in action.

Too often, we rush through conversations, half-listening while thinking about what to say next. We want to fix, explain, or move on. But presence is different—it’s patient, curious, and compassionate. It listens without hurry and asks questions that show genuine care. 

I was reading a little devotion written by Pete Scazzero and he asked this question: “When is the last time you heard someone say something like this: “Those Christians are fantastic listeners! I have never known a group of people who are so genuinely interested in my world, so good at asking questions, so attentive?” If we’re honest, that’s not always our reputation. But Jesus calls us to something better—to be people who, like Him, look at others and love them.

And being present doesn’t mean we always have the right words or solutions. Sometimes the greatest gift we can offer is our undivided attention—a listening ear, an open heart, and a willingness to simply be there. When we do that, the love of Christ begins to shine through us in quiet, powerful ways. The people around us begin to feel seen, valued, and known—not because we had all the answers, but because we reflected the heart of Jesus.

My prayer is that we can all become people who slow down enough to really see others; that we can put away distractions, listen without interrupting, and offer our full attention, so that we can communicate the love of Jesus to others.

Lord Jesus, teach me to see others the way You see them. Help me to look up from my busyness and love with the same attention and compassion You showed. May my presence be a reflection of Yours—steady, kind, and full of grace. -Amen

“The LORD is for me, so I will have no fear. What can mere people do to me?” -Psalm 118:6

Criticism is something we all face. It doesn’t matter who you are—whether you’re a pastor, a teacher, a parent, a friend, or a follower of Jesus trying to live out your faith—there will always be voices that misunderstand, misjudge, or even try to tear you down.

We live in a world filled with noise—opinions, accusations, and misinformation. People say things online and in person that can sting deeply. Sometimes criticism can be helpful, revealing areas where we need to grow. But other times it’s unfair or untrue, designed to discourage and distract us.

The question is, how do we know which voices to listen to? I think the first step is to remember who we belong to. David declared with confidence, “The LORD is for me.” When we know God is for us, the opinions of others lose their power to define us. Because God’s truth about us is what matters most.

Jesus gives us the perfect example and Peter wrote about it in 1 Peter 2:23: “When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly”. Jesus didn’t waste time defending Himself against every false word. He knew His Father saw the truth.

When criticism comes our way, we need to ask God for wisdom to discern what’s true. If there’s something we need to change, let His Spirit gently correct us. But if it’s just noise meant to discourage us, we need to release it to God and move forward in peace.

In Galatians 1:10 Paul reminds us, “Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people?  If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ”. Our goal isn’t to please everyone—it’s to live faithfully before the One who knows our hearts.

That’s why it’s so important to fill your mind with God’s promises. Psalm 119:11 says: “I have hidden your word in my heart my heart that I might not sin against you.” The more we know God’s Word, the better we know His ways, and the easier it becomes to silence the wrong voices. His truth becomes our filter.

So I encourage us all to take a moment to reflect:

• Are there voices we’ve been listening to that don’t speak truth or life?
• Are we letting criticism shape our worth more than God’s promises do?
• Have we taken time to hear what God says about each of us?

I also want to encourage us to take time to write down a few scriptures that remind us of who we are in Christ. Here are a few to get us started: 

• Ephesians 2:10 – “For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.”
• Psalm 139:14 – “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”
• Romans 8:1 – “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”
• 1 John 3:1 – “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!”
• John 10:27 – “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”

Let these truths from God’s Word drown out the lies. The Lord is for you. He knows you, loves you, and walks beside you. Does He have growth—and sometimes correction–in store for us? Sure, but it’s His loving-kindness that leads us to repentance. Keep your eyes on Him, trust His voice above all others, and continue to strive to live the life He’s called you to—with courage, grace, and peace.

When we talk about values it can sound noble: “I value God. I value my family. I value people.” These words are important—they name our hopes and convictions—but words alone don’t prove a thing. Jesus gives us a simple, searching measure of what we truly value—it’s what we treasure. Matthew 6:21 tells us: “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

That term treasure doesn’t just refer to things of monetary value; treasure is time, attention, and energy. It’s the things we allow to take first place in our schedules—and our hearts reveal what we really treasure. If we say we value our relationship with the Lord but most of our time and attention is spent scrolling, chasing approval, or escaping real connection, then our pattern of life is telling a different story than our words.

Jesus’ conversation with Martha and Mary (Luke 10:38–42) is a helpful picture. Martha says she is serving Jesus, but she is distracted with many tasks; Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, giving him her attention. Both words and work matter, but Jesus points to the posture of the heart—to where our attention and affection are given. The rich young ruler (Mark 10:17–22) offers another sobering example: he sincerely wanted eternal life, yet when Jesus asked him to give up his greatest treasure, it says he walked away sad. Wanting something and valuing something are not always the same thing. Truely valuing something shows up in sacrifice, in habit, and in the choices we make when no one’s watching.

Our phones now have the ability to show us a daily breakdown of our screen time and where our hours go. What if we could run a report like that for our hearts? What would it show? Would God be in the top ten? Would family time show up as a priority, or have they been replaced by the endless scroll? 

This devotional isn’t meant to shame us—it’s meant to challenge us to take a step back and look at what we’re actually giving value to. Grace meets us where we are; it doesn’t deny the struggle of distraction or the draw of convenience. But grace also calls us to respond. If Jesus is truly our treasure, then we’ll seek to make room to be with Him—with a brief morning prayer, time in His Word, Sabbath rest, and putting business aside at times so our family knows they matter more than a text or email or the latest social media post.

I don’t know about you, but I have seasons when the “important” things crowd out the “eternal” things without me even noticing. Over this past year, I’ve had to step back and ask hard questions: What habit is stealing my attention? What am I defending with the word “busy”? Where could I trim to give sacrificially of my time to the Lord and those I love? Faithful change often begins with small, consistent rhythms—a ten-minute morning devotion that becomes fifteen a month later; a weekly family meal with devices set aside; one hour each Sunday to sit and listen to God without a to-do list whispering in the corner.

Scripture urges us toward this kind of re-ordering. Matthew 6:33 reminds us to seek first the kingdom of God and, in Colossians 3:2, Paul tells us to set our minds on things above. These verses don’t condemn honest busyness (work is a gift), but they do call us to align our daily habits with the priorities of heaven. When our actions and schedules reflect God’s reign, our words stop being mere statements and become testimony.

Here’s a simple challenge for each of us this week—let’s take an honest look at what’s really getting our time and energy. What habits or distractions are consuming our time and failing to feed our souls or strengthen our relationships with others? Then, let’s try to replace those things with small, intentional changes that reveal what we truly treasure and invite God to reshape our desires.

Lord, forgive us for the things we say we value but do not show. Help us to be people whose time, attention, and energy reflect the treasure of Your presence. Give us the courage to let go of lesser comforts and the wisdom to build habits that honor you and the people you’ve placed around us. Help us be people who truly live our values out. In Jesus name—Amen

Fear is an emotion every one of us knows. It can be small and practical—a nervousness before a difficult conversation—or it can be raw and all-consuming, like the dread that comes when we face sickness, loss, or the unknown. The surprising and freeing truth of the Gospel is that fear is not foreign to Jesus. In the garden of Gethsemane, he experienced deep anguish as he faced the cross. And in Matthew 26:39, He prays: “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” Even though His fear was real, it did not rule Him. He refused to let fear determine his response to God’s call. That moment shows us two things at once: fear is human, and surrender is holy.

Jesus’ example matters because so often we allow fear to steer our lives. These days, many people make decisions from a posture of fear instead of from a place of prayer and trust. We withdraw, we harden, or we try to control outcomes instead of trusting the One who holds the future. The Scriptures speak directly into this tendency. Isaiah 41:10 reminds us: “Fear not, for I am with you”. The psalmist tells us in Psalm 56:3: “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.”And in 2 Timothy 1:7, Paul reminds Timothy: “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” These promises don’t erase the feeling of fear—they change what fear does to us. Instead of paralyzing us, fear can become an invitation to pray, to lean on Jesus, and to act in faith.

We see the pattern of fear met by faith elsewhere in Scripture. When Peter stepped out of the boat toward Jesus, he walked on water for a moment—until he noticed the wind and began to sink. His fear didn’t disqualify him; it revealed where his eyes were fixed. He called out and Jesus reached out his hand. Courage isn’t the absence of fear but the decision to call on Jesus and keep our eyes on him. The enemy would love for fear to become our permanent posture—to numb our witness, to shrink our love, to keep us from the risky obedience of the Gospel. But the cross shows a different response: feel the fear, pray through it, and then follow Jesus.

The question is how do we live this out practically? Here are four simple steps:

1. Name Your Fear Honestly Before God—Don’t try to pretend it isn’t there. Bring it before him in prayer (Philippians 4:6–7) and ask for the peace Jesus promised (John 14:27). 
2. Remember God’s Track Record Of Faithfulness—Read the stories of His deliverance in Scripture and think back on your own life. 
3. Begin To Take Small Steps Of Obedience—An act of love, a conversation, a small risk—and trust God with the outcome.
4. Choose Community—Confess your fears to a trusted brother or sister who can pray with you and walk beside you. God’s sovereignty doesn’t remove the hard things of life, but it means we never face those hard things alone.

As we ponder this idea of seeking courage over fear here are some questions to think about: What specific fear have I been allowing to make decisions for me? When have I followed Jesus despite fear, and what happened? What is one small, obedience-filled step I can take today that God may be calling me to, even though it makes me nervous?

Jesus, You experienced fear and still bowed to the Father’s will. Help us to not be mastered by fear. Teach us to bring our fears to You, to trust Your sovereignty, and to obey even when our hands are trembling. Fill us with Your Spirit, Who provides power, love, and self-control, so that we can be your witnesses in a fearful world. In Your Name, Jesus—Amen.

“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” -Acts 1:8

The mission that Jesus gave His disciples from the very beginning was to go and to be His witnesses. That call still rests on anyone who chooses to follow Jesus. This is not simply an invitation to speak words about Jesus; it’s an invitation to live a life so infused with God’s presence that others are drawn to Him. (Matthew 5:16) So we must ask ourselves not only, “Do I believe in Jesus?” but also, “Am I an effective witness for Him?” Does my life display a dependence on the Spirit that points people to Jesus?

The key to authentic witness is not Biblical knowledge or the ability to speak well: it’s power. And it’s not power in and of ourselves. The “power” is the Holy Spirit—God’s presence within us that gives us a supernatural boldness, wisdom, and faith. 

We saw this power transform the disciples. Peter, without the baptism of the Holy Spirit, denied Jesus three times, even after he proclaimed to Jesus that he would die for Him. But then in Acts 2, after being filled with the Spirit, he stood up and proclaimed the Gospel so clearly and boldly that thousands became followers of Jesus that very day. And the early church flourished, experiencing deep unity, sacrificial love, and miraculous signs and wonders through the power of the Holy Spirit at work in their lives.

Are we witnesses to everyone around us of the Gospel: the good news of who Jesus is to a world that desperately needs His saving grace? If not, where are we falling short?—What holds us back? I think there are many possible hindrances: fear, busyness, skewed ideas of what it means to be a witness. When we go through rituals and fail to draw our power from the Spirit, our witness is weak at best. If we try to witness without love, our witness is a clanging symbol: loud, but not helpful. 

The Holy Spirit always leads us back to our need for God’s intervention and help and gives us strength as we acknowledge our weakness without Him. He unifies us with our brothers and sisters in Christ. In contrast, division, apathy, self-righteousness, and shame thrive where the Spirit’s power is absent. 

This is why we have to make a conscious decision to operate in the power of the Holy Spirit. And I think it begins with humility. Just as Peter had to come to terms with his humanity and weakness that caused him to deny Jesus, we have to realize that we cannot be the witnesses Jesus is calling us to be in our own strength. This realization moves us to dependence on Him: where we take time to pray, repent, and ask God to stir up His Spirit in our lives.

If we want to see our world changed and be the witnesses God is calling us to be, we have to seek Jesus and the power that He promised us in His Holy Spirit. And we have to be ok with being surprised. The call and life God had for the disciples looked nothing like they had imagined, but it brought a power, boldness and love that changed the world.

Jesus, stir up Your Holy Spirit within each of us: we need Your Spirit, who empowers us to share Your Good News and unites us as one body (1 Corinthians 12). And fill us with Your love, which is “the most excellent way,” and makes us more than noise (1 Corinthians 13). We want to be vessels of the things that remain when all else has crumbled, the virtues that only come from You: faith, hope, and love. In Your Mighty Name, we pray—Amen

In Matthew 25:34–36, Jesus paints a powerful picture of what matters most when He returns: “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’” 

When Jesus comes to take His people home, there is really one thing He’s looking for—how well we carried out His call to love. Not how perfectly we lived. Not how loudly we defended our faith. But how faithfully we loved. That love is demonstrated in how we love God and how we love people (Matthew 22:37–39). Jesus tells us that when we care for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger (literally: alien or foreigner), the sick, and the imprisoned, we are actually doing it for Him. When we choose to love “the least of these,” we are loving God Himself. That’s the life God has called us to live—one marked not by self-promotion or religious pride, but by sacrificial love.

Yet, if we look around today, it’s easy to see how distracted we’ve become. Many Christians are focused on the wrong things—calling out the sins of others, trying to legislate morality, or pointing fingers at who’s to blame for the troubles in our world. But Jesus told us there would always be troubles (John 16:33). He never promised that His followers would escape those troubles; instead, He said, “Take heart! I have overcome the world.” The question is, how did He overcome the world? It wasn’t through political power or military strength. It wasn’t by condemning sinners and shaming the broken. Jesus overcame the world with love. He laid down His life even for those who crucified Him (Romans 5:8).

The Gospel—the Good News—has always been about the love and grace of Jesus. He demonstrated it perfectly, and now He calls us to do the same. To feed the hungry. To give water to the thirsty. To invite the stranger in. To care for the sick. To visit the prisoner. This is not just charity—it’s discipleship. It’s how we show the world that Jesus is real. It’s how we overcome the darkness around us. We don’t fight fire with fire—we shine the light of Christ’s love by meeting other people where they are and helping where we can (Matthew 5:14–16).

The life God has called us to live is not easy, but it is simple: love God, love people, and let His love be visible in our actions. Every meal shared; every hand extended; every word of encouragement; every act of love offered: is a declaration that Jesus is alive and His Kingdom is at work all over the world. My prayer is that, as followers of Jesus, we’re not known for what or who we’re against, but for the radical love we display every day of our lives to everyone we encounter. When we love the least of these, we are loving Christ Himself—and that is the life He blesses for eternity.

This past week my heart has been heavy. Like many of you, I’ve been wrestling with the tragic news of Charlie Kirk’s murder. One of the things that grieves me most is that this act of violence happened in a nation that claims to value free speech, yet someone felt justified in taking another person’s life simply because they didn’t like the words he spoke.

But it’s not just this one story. In the same week: there was a young girl in Ukraine whose life was also violently and unnecessarily cut short; there was a school shooting in Colorado; and there are countless others whose names we may never hear because their deaths didn’t make national headlines. Every single one of those people were valued by God: and not one of them matters more to the heart of God than another. One death is not more tragic than another. Whether known or unknown, every person bears the image of God and every loss breaks His heart.

The Sunday before these tragedies, I preached on the sixth commandment in Exodus 20:13: “You shall not murder.” And, as I shared that day, the heart of this command goes far deeper than the act of murder. In Matthew 5, Jesus teaches that murder isn’t just about our physical actions—it’s also about our hearts. “Anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment.” (Matthew 5:22) Anger, hatred, and bitterness are the seeds of murder. And if we’re honest, every one of us has found ourselves with a handful of those seeds at one time or another in our lives.

This is why Jesus’ words in Matthew 5:44 are so radical, when He says: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” This means we are called to love people who think differently than us, vote differently than us, and even those who may actively oppose us. This hostility we see in our nation is not the way of Jesus. He didn’t call us to win arguments and try to prove others wrong—He called us to simply love people.

Jesus demonstrated this for us time and time again. As He hung on the cross, He prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). He loved the thief dying next to Him. He loved the soldiers driving the nails into His hands. And He loves every single person in this world, including those we struggle to love.

The sixth commandment reminds us to value life. But valuing life means more than avoiding violence—it means refusing hatred, it means laying down bitterness, and it means choosing to love even when it’s hard.

How are we doing with this command, especially in light of this past week and a half? Is there someone we’ve been harboring anger towards? Is there someone we view as an enemy? Jesus invites us to let go of that anger, to seek to forgive, and to learn to love—because every life matters to Him.

My prayer is that we can learn to be people who reflect the heart of Jesus—the one who came to give life not destroy it. May we help point others to Him through His life-changing love!

“Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil… Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, and news about him spread through the whole countryside.” -Luke 4:1-2, 14

When we think of deserts, we often picture dry, barren, and difficult places. Spiritually, many of us know what it feels like to be in a desert season—times of testing, silence, loneliness, or struggle. What’s remarkable in Luke’s Gospel is that Jesus didn’t stumble into the desert by accident. He was led there by the Spirit. That means the desert was part of God’s plan, not a detour from it. And when Jesus came out of the desert, He was empowered and ready to step into His ministry.

The same is true for us. Desert seasons may feel uncomfortable and overwhelming, but they are often where God does His deepest work. In the desert, our faith is tested, our character is refined, and our dependence on God is strengthened. James 1:2-4 reminds us to “consider it pure joy… whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” The desert seasons don’t have to be wasted—they can be a place of preparation.

Look at Joseph, who spent years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Those hidden years in the dungeon weren’t wasted—they were the very place God was shaping his character and preparing him to one day save a nation during famine. Or think of David, anointed as king but forced to spend years on the run from Saul. Living in caves and fleeing for his life must have felt like a desert season, yet it was there that God taught him to depend on Him fully and to lead with humility. Both Joseph and David came out of their deserts: not defeated, but prepared for the incredible purposes God had for their lives. 

So if you find yourself in a desert season today, don’t lose heart. God has not abandoned you—He is preparing you. The dry ground you walk on may very well be the training ground for the next step of your calling. You may enter the desert feeling weak but, like Jesus and by the power of the Spirit, you can come out stronger, bolder, and ready for what God has ahead.

We all have a past. Every one of us carries failures, regrets, and mistakes we wish we could erase or redo. But the reality is—we can’t go back. We can only go forward. Too often I meet people who are stuck because they can’t get over their failures. They live in a cycle of guilt, shame, and regret, never realizing that God wants to do something new in their lives.

Romans 8:28 reminds us of this powerful truth: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Notice it says all things. That includes the bad choices, the broken seasons, and even the sins we’ve repented of. God is so great that He can weave even our worst failures into a story of redemption and purpose.

Phillips Brooks, a seventeenth-century preacher, once said: “You must let God teach you the only way to get rid of your past is to make a future of it. God will waste nothing.” That’s the heart of Romans 8:28—nothing is wasted in the hands of God.

Think of Peter. He denied Jesus three times at His most desperate hour. By all accounts, his failure could have disqualified him. Yet after the resurrection, Jesus restored him and used him to preach at Pentecost, where thousands came to faith. Or consider Paul, who persecuted the church and consented to the death of Christians. God didn’t erase Paul’s past: He redeemed it. Paul’s testimony became part of the very message he preached.

The enemy wants us to dwell on our past because he knows it will keep us from stepping into our future. But God’s Word tells us something different. Isaiah 43:18-19 says: “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!” Dwelling on our past will only hold us back, but surrendering it to God allows Him to make something beautiful from the broken pieces.

Maybe today we feel weighed down by our past. Hear this truth: God doesn’t define us by our failures, He defines us by His grace. We can’t change the past, but we can choose to trust God with our future. As we do, we’ll discover that He really does work all things together for good.

And at three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?’ (which means ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’)” -Mark 15:34

There are moments in life when God feels silent. Times when we pray, cry out, or even beg, and it seems as if He doesn’t respond. In Mark 15, as Jesus hung on the cross, He experienced that same silence. With the little strength He had left, He cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” 

He was at His lowest moment—physically broken, emotionally abandoned, and on the brink of death. And yet, no answer came from heaven. But even in the silence, Jesus models something life-changing: He still cried out to God. He still trusted His Father, even when He couldn’t hear or feel Him.

Some may not know that Jesus’s cry to the Father is quoting Psalm 22:1-5 which says: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest. Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the one Israel praises. In you our ancestors put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. To you they cried out and were saved; in you they trusted and were not put to shame.” 

Was Jesus, in the fullness of his suffering, directing us back to this truth? Was He reminding us that we can fully trust God, even when we feel abandoned?

Silence does not mean absence. Often times it’s in God’s silence that He is the closest. God was present at the cross. He had not abandoned His Son, and He does not abandon us. We’re reminded in Hebrews 13:5 of God’s promise: “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” When we can’t see Him working, He’s still holding us. When we can’t hear His voice, He’s still guiding us.

We see this in the story of Job. He lost nearly everything—family, health, and livelihood—and for much of his journey, God was silent. Yet Job declared in Job 13:15, “Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him.” Faith shines brightest not when everything is clear, but when we continue to trust God in the unknown.

The cross reminds us that even when God seems silent, He is still working out His purposes. What looked like abandonment on Good Friday was actually the pathway to resurrection on Sunday. If God was faithful then, He will be faithful now.

If we find ourselves in a season where God feels silent? My encouragement is to hold onto His promise: He is with us, even in the silence. May we continue to trust in Him.