I’ve been a sports fanatic all my life. And as a fan, I’m always wanting to see my teams achieve perfection. Whether it’s going undefeated or pitching a no-hitter, there’s something in me that longs to see them achieve the impossible. As a kid, I always lead my teams to perfect seasons…at least in my mind, I did. But as much as we love the idea of perfection, the reality is there’s no such thing as the perfect life.

Romans 3:23 puts it plainly: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” No one bats a thousand in life. No one hits a home run every time they step to the plate. We all strike out from time to time. We all make mistakes. We all have those moments we wish we could replay. But here’s the good news—God isn’t asking us to be flawless. In fact, He knows we’re not. What He’s looking for are hearts that lean into Him when we fall short.

This is why the words of the Lord to Paul in 2 Corinthians 12:9 are so powerful: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” In sports, a team’s character is often revealed not when they’re winning, but when they’re behind and struggling. The same is true for us. Our greatest growth doesn’t come in seasons of comfort and success, but in the moments when we’ve been knocked down and have to choose whether or not we’ll get back up.

Peter’s story in the Gospels is a perfect example. He looked Jesus in the eyes saying he would never deny Him. Yet just hours later, he failed—three times. But Jesus didn’t leave Peter in his failure. After the resurrection, Jesus went to Peter and restored him (John 21:15–19), and he went on to be a bold leader in the early church. Peter’s failure became the soil that God used to grow him deeper in humility, compassion, and courage.

The same is true for us. God can use our failures as opportunities for growth—if we let Him. Proverbs 24:16 says, “Though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again.” What matters most to God isn’t whether we stumble, it’s whether we trust Him enough to get back up.

Our failure doesn’t define us—God’s grace does. And the beautiful thing about His grace is that it doesn’t just offer forgiveness; it empowers us to move forward. When we let Him work in our weakness, His strength shines through, and our story becomes a testimony of His faithfulness.

So, the next time you feel like you’ve struck out or dropped the ball, remember: God’s not asking us for perfection—He’s asking for us to persevere. May we learn from our mistakes and allow Him to teach us in the moment. So that, by His grace, we can get back up and keep growing in our relationship with Him!

In place of my normal devotion this week, I have decided to share a devotional sent out by our District Supervisor Pastor Steve Mickel. It’s a timely word that I think everyone should hear.

Over the past several years, I’ve heard many pastors and leaders longing to go back — back to when the church seemed central to our nation, when following Jesus felt more culturally acceptable. I understand that longing. When my oldest son died, all I wanted was to get back to “the way it was” before that heartbreak. But we know there’s no going back. We’ve changed. The world has changed. However, God has not changed — and He is doing a new thing.

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
Isaiah 43:19 NIV

There’s an image that illustrates this so well: the Choluteca Bridge in Honduras. In 1998, Hurricane Mitch dumped over 75 inches of rain in just four days, destroying all the roads and bridges — except one, the Choluteca Bridge. But when the floods subsided, the river had shifted. The bridge stood strong but no longer spanned the river.

What a picture of the church today. We risk becoming that old bridge — strong, but no longer connected to where the river of God’s Spirit flows. God is calling us to move with Him, to become the visible demonstration of Jesus in a world that so desperately needs Him.

When I look at the last chapters of Acts, I see this lived out in the life of Paul — a follower of Jesus who faced unthinkable persecution yet did more than anyone else to get the gospel to new places; wherever the river flowed.

Paul shows us three qualities that we need if we’re to bethe visible church: Courage, Compassion, and Consideration.

• Courage to stand for Jesus even when it costs us; not for our political rights or our freedoms, but for the name of Jesus – for His gospel of peace.
• Compassion that sees people as He does — not as problems to fix but people to love; rising to the occasion to care for the least, the lost, the hopeless, and the hungry.
• Consideration in the how we live out the compassion of Christ. Our actions and words would show respect and kindness, even when we disagree.

Our cities, neighbors, and even our social media feeds don’t need an angry church demanding its way. They need a church that looks like Jesus — courageous, compassionate, and considerate.

The river has shifted. God is doing a new thing. May we have the courage to move with Him and be the visible church for such a time as this.

In last week’s blog, I talked about living with a standing Yes to Jesus—a heart that says, “Lord, whatever You ask, the answer is already yes.” But today I want to explore an important truth that goes alongside that. Saying yes to Jesus doesn’t mean saying yes to everyone and everything. In fact, sometimes your yes to God will require a no to others.

We live in a culture that glorifies busyness. The pace of life never stops—work, family, ministry, social obligations—it all piles up. And especially for those of us who want to serve Jesus, there’s a temptation to say yes to every need that comes our way. We assume that faithfulness means constant availability. But the reality is, we were not created to live without limits. God, in His wisdom, actually commands us to rest—not just as a suggestion, but as a rhythm woven into creation. Sabbath rest isn’t laziness; it’s obedience.

Even Jesus, the Son of God, modeled this for us. In Mark 1:35-38, we read: “Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. Simon and his companions went to look for him, and when they found him, they exclaimed: ‘Everyone is looking for you!’ Jesus replied, ‘Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.’” 

After a long night of healing the sick and casting out demons, Jesus withdrew early in the morning to a quiet place to pray. His disciples came looking for Him, saying, “Everyone is looking for you!” But Jesus didn’t rush back to the crowd. Instead, He said it was time to move on to the next town—because that’s what the Father had called Him to do. Jesus was not driven by demands or expectations. He was led by the Father’s voice. That’s what made His yes so powerful—He knew when to say no.

When we say yes to every request, we risk burning out, growing resentful, and doing things in our own strength. But when we take the time to seek God’s direction—through prayer, rest, and solitude—He helps us discern His voice and His plan for us. He reminds us that we are not the Savior: He is. Our job is not to meet every need, but to be faithful to the ones He calls us to.

There may be times when someone asks for our time, our help, or our energy—and the Spirit will nudge us to say no. Not out of selfishness, but out of obedience. Us saying no may create an opportunity for someone else to step in help. 

My prayer for all of us is this: As we live with a standing yes to Jesus, may we also develop a listening heart—a heart that takes time to be still, to rest, and to seek His voice. May we trust that God will guide us—not only into what we’re supposed to do, but also away from what we’re not. And may we remember that even Jesus pulled away from the crowd, not because He didn’t care—but because He cared too much to run ahead of the Father’s will.

Let’s keep saying yes to Jesus—and trust Him to show us when it’s okay, and even necessary, to say no.

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.