This past week, I had two separate conversations with different people—yet both shared a strikingly similar story. At some point in the last few years, they each made a decision to give God a standing “yes”. They told the Lord that no matter what He asked of them, their answer would be yes—before even knowing what He might require. 

Both of them shared how that decision led them into some really difficult—and often uncomfortable—places. God asked things of them that seemed wild, unreasonable, even risky. But here’s the amazing part: As they said yes in faith, God showed up in ways they had never experienced before. He worked miracles. He opened doors. He brought transformation. Their obedience became the pathway to some of the most life-changing experiences of their lives.

Was it easy? Not at all. Was it worth it? Without question.

As I listened to their stories, I was reminded of the prophet Isaiah’s bold response to God in Isaiah 6:8. After encountering the holiness of God and receiving His cleansing grace, Isaiah heard the Lord ask, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” Without hesitation, Isaiah replied, “Here am I. Send me.” That’s the kind of heart God is looking for in us: one that says yes before the details are laid out; one that trusts God more than it fears the unknown.

This is what it means to follow Jesus. It’s not a one-time decision, but rather a lifestyle of ongoing surrender. When Jesus called His disciples, He didn’t hand them a detailed itinerary—He simply said, “Follow me.” And they left their nets, their tax booths, their plans, and said yes. And because they said “YES”, they saw the Kingdom of God revealed. They saw miracles. They saw lives changed. And they saw their own lives transformed.

God still works this way. He wants to use each of us. He is inviting us into His Kingdom work. But He doesn’t force His way in—He patiently waits for our yes. Are we offering Him our “yes”? Are we giving Him full access to our life? Or are we holding back, waiting until things feel easier, clearer, or more comfortable?

My prayer for all of us is that we would give Jesus a standing yes. That we would say, “Here I am. Send me.” That we would live with open ears and obedient hearts—ready to follow wherever He leads…even when it’s hard, even when it doesn’t make sense. Because when we do, we place ourselves in the midst of His abiding presence, and the miraculous works that occur in and through Him. And we’ll discover, just like my two friends did, that God truly does “immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us” (Ephesians 3:20).

Jesus is calling all of us into something bigger than ourselves. But the question is—Will we say YES?

This week my wife wrote a devotional for our church that was really good, so I am sharing that here on my blog.

Be still and know that I am God. –Psalm 46:10

We’ve talked a lot about this scripture in the last couple of years. As the digital world expands and—in many ways—causes the rest of life to move faster and faster, it’s good to remember this.

It’s difficult to slow ourselves and make our minds still. And that often becomes the hang up for us—being still….Because we have to purposefully and deliberately slow down. It doesn’t just happen by a happy accident, like the trees on a Bob Ross painting.

But the stillness is not where the power resides.

My friend reminded me of this as we were talking this week. It can be so difficult to slow down that, by the time we actually DO slow down, we lose sight of the point of the verse.

“…and know that I am God.”

This is the point. This is what actually strengthens us and changes us.

And we can miss it if we’re not careful.

In 2 Corinthians 10:5, Paul says: “We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”

We were made to know God: who He is; what His character is. But we have to CHOOSE to know Him.

The slowing down and practicing stillness is merely the tool we use to remember and declare who God is:

• the strength of my life
• my firm foundation 
• my provider
• my salvation
• my help in times of trouble
• the light of life

…you get the idea.

As we remember and declare who God is, we remind ourselves of why we have faith in Him and we find strength to carry on. We don’t have to know all the answers, we need only know that God does and that He is steadfast and true and always with us.

Lord, help us practice stillness so that we can KNOW that You are God. Help us to not lose sight of what we actually need—which is to know You. We are forgetful and fickle and we need the fullness of who You are in every part of our lives and every moment of our days. Draw us back to You when our hearts and minds wander so that we may live with confidence and purpose and love. We know that we find all of this in You and we thank You that we lack nothing in Your presence.

“How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart?” –Psalm 13:1-2 (NIV)

In last week’s blog, I reflected on the importance of gratitude—how essential it is to pause and thank God for His hand in our lives. Gratitude is powerful. But if we’re honest, there are plenty of days when gratitude feels out of reach. The struggles we face—loss, disappointment, anxiety, grief—don’t naturally lead us to say “thank you.” So, what do we do with those emotions?

The short answer: We bring them to God.

Throughout the Psalms, David shows us that honesty with God is not only allowed—it’s invited. In Psalm 13, David begins with a cry of desperation: “How long, Lord?” He doesn’t sugarcoat his pain. He doesn’t wrap it up in spiritual language. He simply pours out his heart. And here’s the beautiful thing: God doesn’t turn him away.

We often think God only wants our praise, our faith, or our smiles. But the God who created our emotions can also handle our questions, our frustrations, our doubts, and even our anger. Jesus Himself cried out in anguish on the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46). If the sinless Son of God could express His pain honestly to the Father, then why can’t we?

David’s psalms often follow a pattern: pain, prayer, and then praise. He vents, he processes, and eventually, he remembers who God is. Psalm 13 ends with these words: “But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me.” –Psalm 13:5-6

That shift doesn’t happen because the circumstances have changed—it happens because David has brought his full, unfiltered self into the presence of God. And that’s where the healing begins.

There’s a story told about a little boy who came home from school angry and frustrated. His mom told him, “Go to your room and tell God how you feel.” After a few minutes, the boy came back, calmer. His mom asked what happened. He said, “I told God everything… and He listened.”

Maybe today we’re carrying things we haven’t told God about—because we think they’re too messy, too raw, or too painful. Let this be your invitation to talk to Him. He already knows, but He wants us to know that He’s listening.

We can bring it all to Him—our gratitude and our grief. Our trust and our tears. He’s not afraid of our honesty. In fact, it may be the very thing that brings healing to our souls.

As we celebrate this 4th of July weekend, our hearts are filled with gratitude for the freedoms we enjoy. Yet if we’re honest, it’s easy to take these freedoms for granted. We live in a nation where we can gather freely, worship openly, and speak boldly—blessings that many around the world still long for. And while we’re quick to celebrate these freedoms with fireworks and barbecues, how often do we pause to truly give thanks—not just to our nation’s founders or our brave service members, but to the Lord, the ultimate Giver of every good gift?

Throughout the Psalms, we are reminded to give thanks. Psalm 107:1 says, “Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His love endures forever” . Thankfulness is not just a polite response; it’s an act of worship that recognizes God’s hand in our lives. In Luke 17, Jesus heals ten men who had leprosy. They go to show themselves to the priests and are declared clean, but only one returns to give thanks. In Luke 17:17 Jesus asks, “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine?”. That story is a powerful reminder of how often we can receive from God and forget to return to Him with gratitude.

We are not much different from the nine. We pray, God answers. We’re blessed, we move on. We see His provision, but forget His name. We enjoy His protection, but fail to thank Him for it. This weekend, as we reflect on our freedom as Americans, let us also reflect on our freedom in Christ—the freedom from sin, shame, and death itself. As John 8:36 tells us, “So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed”.

Gratitude keeps our hearts and minds planted in the fullness of the freedom we’ve been given. It reminds us that we are not self-made, but grace-made. It turns our hearts from pride to praise. So, let’s not be like the nine who forgot. Let’s be like the one who returned, fell at Jesus’ feet, and simply said “Thank You.” May our hearts overflow with thankfulness—not just for our nation’s blessings, but for the unshakable, eternal freedom we have in Christ. And may this be a weekend not only of celebration, but of deep gratitude for the hand of God upon our lives.

“We love because He first loved us.” – 1 John 4:19

I recently came across a reflection by Soren Kierkegaard, the Danish theologian and philosopher, about this Bible verse. He pointed out that we often speak of God’s love in terms of the past—“He first loved us”—as if God’s love was something He showed once long ago, rather than something He continues to pour out every single moment. This idea intrigued me. I have never thought of God’s love that way, But I began to wonder how many of us do. 

Maybe we imagine He loved us back when we first believed, or before we messed things up. Before the failure. Before the doubt. Before we stopped feeling worthy of it. But the truth is, God’s love isn’t a one-time event. It’s not a past-tense kind of love. His love is present, constant, and unchanging. Jeremiah 31:3 says, “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.” It doesn’t say, “I loved you when you had it all together” or “I loved you until you disappointed Me.” No—God’s love is everlasting. 

When I was younger, I went to a Christian school and I got in trouble more often than I’d like to admit. I can’t remember what I did one particular day, but I still remember a teacher asking, “What do you think Jesus would say if He saw you doing that?” The implication, of course, was that He would be disappointed in me. But now, with a little more understanding of grace, I think I know what Jesus would say: “I love you.” Not “I loved you before you did that,” not “I’ll love you again when you clean up your act.” Just… “I love you.”

That’s the heart of the Gospel. Romans 5:8 reminds us, “God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” His love isn’t reactive; it’s proactive. He doesn’t love us because we’re good—He loves us because He is good. He doesn’t look at our failures and shake His head; He looks at us through the lens of Jesus and sees sons and daughters, clothed in righteousness, full of potential, and deeply loved.

So if you’ve ever found yourself thinking of God’s love as something that “was,” I want to remind you that it is, right now. Forever. It never ceases. And as we let that truth soak into our hearts, we’re invited to respond—to love Him, not out of fear, but because we’re secure in the fact that we are fully known and fully loved.

A few weeks ago, I attended a special prayer meeting centered around inner healing, and it was a powerful reminder that many of us are carrying wounds and hurts that we’ve never truly dealt with. We’ve pushed them down, trying our best to forget. But the problem is that unresolved pain doesn’t stay buried. It finds its way back to the surface—often when we least expect it and in ways we don’t always recognize.

That’s why it’s so important to invite God into those broken places. Psalm 147:3 tells us that “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” God is not indifferent to our pain. He doesn’t tell us to simply “get over it.” He meets us in our brokenness, and He lovingly begins to restore what has been damaged. But I’ve discovered one of the keys to experiencing healing is learning how to forgive.

Forgiveness is not saying that what someone did was okay. It’s not minimizing the offense or pretending it didn’t hurt. Forgiveness is about releasing the pain to God so that it no longer holds power over us. When we choose to forgive, we open the door for God to begin a deep healing work in our hearts.

Jesus modeled this kind of forgiveness on the cross. In Luke 23:34, He prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” If anyone had a reason to hold on to hurt, it was Jesus. Yet, even in His suffering, He chose forgiveness. And in doing so, He not only made a way for our salvation but showed us the path to healing.

Unforgiveness is like a chain around our soul—it weighs us down, robs us of peace, and stunts our spiritual growth. But forgiveness sets us free. Free to move forward. Free to love again. Free to receive all that God has for us. As Colossians 3:13 reminds us, “Bear with each other and forgive one another… Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” God’s forgiveness isn’t just something we receive—it’s something we’re called to extend.

So I encourage us to ask ourselves: Is there someone we haven’t forgiven? Are there wounds we’ve been carrying that God is calling us to release? We may never hear the apology we would hope for, but we can’t let someone else’s failure keep us from the healing God wants to give. Forgiveness is not about changing the past—it’s about releasing the future.

Take a moment to bring these hurts before the Lord. Let Him meet you right where you’re at. Choose to forgive—not because they deserve it, but because “it is for freedom that Christ has set us free” (Galatians 5:1). And holding on to unforgiveness keeps us bound and chained. Let go, and let God begin the healing work only He can do.

God, You see the pain we’ve carried—the wounds we’ve tried to hide. We invite You into those broken places today. Show us where we need to forgive, and give us the strength to do it. We choose to release the hurt to You, knowing that You are the One who heals and restores. Bind up our wounds, Lord. Bring freedom and peace to our hearts. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.” – Psalm 68:5 

This weekend, as we recognize Father’s Day, we’re reminded that this day stirs up a variety of emotions. For some, it brings joy and gratitude for a loving and faithful dad. For others, it stirs sorrow due to loss, absence, or pain. Some may have grown up with a strong father figure who pointed them to Jesus, while others carry wounds left by a father who wasn’t present, didn’t care, or didn’t know how to love well. Whatever your experience has been, here’s the hope we cling to: though our earthly fathers are imperfect—our Heavenly Father is not.

God is the Father we all long for. He is faithful when others fail. He is present when others walk away. His love is not based on performance or perfection—it is unconditional, unshakable, and everlasting. Psalm 103:13 tells us, “As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him.” That’s who He is. He meets us in our joy, our grief, and our disappointment. He steps into the very places where our earthly fathers may have fallen short—and He offers healing, comfort, and wholeness.

I was blessed with a father who loved me well and pointed me to Jesus. But I know that’s not everyone’s story. For those who never knew their dad, or who carry pain from that relationship, let me gently remind you: God longs to fill every crack left behind. He invites you to come to Him, not just as Lord and Savior, but as Father. Romans 8:15 says, “You received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.” That word “Abba” is deeply personal—it means “Daddy.” That’s the kind of relationship He wants with us.

So this Father’s Day, whether your heart is full or heavy, turn to the One who calls you His child. Let Him show you what it means to be loved unconditionally. Let Him redefine what fatherhood looks like through His patience, presence, and perfect love. And if you’re a father yourself, lean on Him to be your example. Our kids don’t need perfection from us—they need direction toward the Father who will never let them down.

Heavenly Father, thank You for being a perfect Father to us. Thank You for loving us with a love that never fails. For those of us who carry wounds from our earthly fathers, bring healing and peace. For those who have lost their dads, bring comfort and strength. And for those who are fathers, help them lead with grace, humility, and a heart that points to You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”— Galatians 6:9 (NIV)

Following Jesus isn’t always easy. In fact, He told us it would be hard: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). There are seasons when the path gets steep, when burdens feel heavy, and when quitting feels like the easiest option. 

As a pastor, I’ve felt that. There have been moments when walking away seemed far more appealing than staying the course. But every time I’ve pressed through, every time I’ve leaned into the call God has placed on my life, I’ve encountered His faithfulness in deeper ways. I’ve seen how He strengthens the weary, how He makes a way when there seems to be none, and how He uses perseverance to shape our character and deepen our faith.

It’s easy to underestimate how close we are to breakthrough when we feel the most discouraged. But the promise of Galatians 6:9 reminds us that harvest comes to those who don’t give up. Quitting might provide temporary relief, but it often robs us of long-term reward. Think of Joseph, who remained faithful in prison before God elevated him to leadership, or Paul, who endured beatings and imprisonment but never wavered in his mission. Their stories teach us that God’s greatest blessings often come after our hardest battles.

So whatever path you’re on—whether it’s ministry, parenting, a career, or simply the daily walk of faith—stay the course. God sees. He knows. And He will be with you to offer grace, strength, and purpose until you reach the other side. Don’t miss what He has for you by stepping off the path He has placed before you. Let us be people who finish well, who endure with hope, and who trust that our labor in the Lord is never in vain (1 Corinthians 15:58).

Lord, give us the strength to stay the course. When we grow weary, remind us of Your promises. When we feel like giving up, help us to trust that You are working, even when I can’t see it. Strengthen our hearts to follow the path You’ve placed before us, and help us experience the joy and blessing of perseverance. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

This week, Stacy and I have been away at our Foursquare Connection (our national convention)—a time we look forward to every year. It’s more than just a change of scenery or a ministry event, it’s a refreshing experience for the heart and soul. We get to reconnect with friends and pastors we’ve walked with over the years, and every time we do, I’m reminded of the deep fellowship God desires for each of us. 

Every Sunday at church, before our meet and greet time, I talk about how we were made for relationship. Relationship with God, and relationship with others. But not just surface-level connections. We were designed for Koinonia—a biblical word that speaks to more than just being friendly or having coffee together. Koinonia describes a shared life, a spiritual bond of love, mutual encouragement, and deep connection. It’s the kind of fellowship that sustains us, challenges us, and helps shape us into who God is calling us to be.

Proverbs 27:17 describes it beautifully: “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” That’s what Koinonia looks like in practice. We walk with one another, not just on easy days, but through the difficult ones too. We speak life, truth, and encouragement into each other’s hearts. And sometimes, that sharpening comes through challenge—through truth spoken in love and humility or comfort offered in the midst of pain. It’s not always easy, but it’s the way we are called to live. Because in the process, God forms us, strengthens our character, and deepens our unity.

The early church modeled this kind of fellowship powerfully. Acts 2:42 says, “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship (koinonia), to the breaking of bread and to prayer.” Their shared life wasn’t seen as optional—it was central to their faith and growth. They prayed together, gave sacrificially, encouraged one another, and worshipped as one. And the result? Lives were changed, needs were met, and the presence of God was unmistakable in their midst.

In our independent culture, deep fellowship like this can feel rare or even intimidating. But we need it. We need to know others, and we need to be known. When we encourage each other and lift each other up, we help one another see our worth and purpose in Christ. We strengthen the bond of the Church, and we reflect the love of Jesus to the world around us.

So whether it’s at a ministry convention, a Bible study, a Sunday morning conversation, or a quiet moment of prayer with a friend—we need to lean into Koinonia. Don’t settle for shallow connections. Ask God to give you relationships that sharpen your faith, stir your spirit, and remind you that you’re never walking this journey alone.

Lord, we thank You for the gift of Koinonia—for the deep, life-giving relationships You designed us to have. Thank You for the people You’ve placed in our lives to walk alongside us, encourage us, and help us grow. Teach us how to love one another well, to speak life and truth, and to build one another up in Christ. Help us to be vulnerable and open, creating space for true connection and unity in and through You. May our fellowship reflect Your love and bring glory to You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

“If you love me, keep my commands.” -John 14:15

This week, a friend shared a couple quotes from Henry Blackaby that struck a chord in my heart. The first was this: “Our difficulty is not that we don’t know God’s will. Our discomfort comes from the fact that we do know His will, but we do not want to do it.” And the second: “Satan will try to convince you that obedience carries much too high a price, but he will never tell you the cost of not obeying God.”

These words hit hard because they speak a truth many of us feel but are afraid to admit. We hesitate because we know that obedience often costs us something…our comfort, our plans, our control. How often do we know what God wants us to do or how He wants us to live, but we push back because it’s not what we want?

We can look at people in the Bible like David and say, “Sure, I’ll obey if it leads me to the palace.” But what if instead of leading us to the throne, our obedience leads us to chains—like it did for Paul? Will we still say yes? Will we continue to follow even when God’s path takes us into hard places, unknown seasons, or even unwanted callings?

Selective obedience isn’t really obedience at all. It’s just conditional surrender. True obedience, the kind that reflects the heart of Jesus, says “yes” regardless of the cost. Jesus demonstrated this for all of us. He obeyed the Father even to the point of death, showing us that obedience isn’t always easy, but it is always worth it.

The enemy would love for us to believe that saying yes to God will ruin our lives, steal our joy, or leave us empty. But the truth is, the cost of disobedience is far greater. Think of Jonah running from God’s command—it didn’t lead to freedom, it led to a storm and a giant fish. Think of the rich young ruler in Matthew 19, who walked away sad because he wasn’t willing to pay the price of obedience. We rarely consider the opportunities, blessings, and growth we miss when we say no to God.

Jesus said, “If you love me, keep my commands.” Obedience is not about legalism or fear—it’s a love response. We obey because we trust Him and believe that His ways are higher. We obey because we know that in the upside-down Kingdom of God, surrender leads to freedom, and obedience leads to life.

My prayer is that we become people who say yes to God, not just when it’s easy or when it benefits us, but always. Because the cost of obedience is always less than the cost of disobedience.

Lord, thank You for loving us enough to call us into a life of obedience. Forgive us for the times we’ve hesitated, questioned, or resisted Your will. Help us to trust You more deeply, to surrender more fully, and to obey more quickly. Give us the courage to say yes, even when the cost is high, and remind us that You are always faithful. -Amen