“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

“Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect.” — Romans 12:2 (NLT)

Have you ever stopped and asked yourself why you believe what you believe? As children, we often adopt the beliefs of our parents. As we grow, we may be shaped by our friends, teachers, culture, or significant others. All throughout our lives, we are constantly influenced—sometimes knowingly, sometimes unconsciously. And often, those influences become so ingrained in us that we accept them as truth without ever questioning them.

But what if some of those beliefs are off base? What if some of the things we were taught, or assumed, or embraced, aren’t fully in line with God’s truth? I’ll be the first to admit—I often think my way of thinking is the right way. I assume my perspective is the best or most accurate. But I also often ask myself the question: Is it possible that some of my thoughts about God, faith, and life might be skewed? Could I have adopted a version of truth that actually needs some correction?

That’s where humility and a willingness to be taught by God come in. We live in a world full of opinions, ideologies, and noise. It’s easy to gravitate toward the things that make us comfortable and ignore the things that challenge us. But true discipleship means letting Jesus shape every part of our lives—including how we think. Romans 12:2 reminds us that transformation begins in the mind. God wants to renew our thinking. He wants to reshape our thoughts with His truth—not the world’s, not culture’s, not even our family’s or friends’—but His.

That means we need to be open to change. Open to correction. Open to seeing things differently—through the lens of Scripture and with the help of the Holy Spirit. One of the most powerful prayers we can pray is: “Lord, show me where I’m wrong. Teach me Your truth. Shape my thinking.”

It’s not easy to admit we may be wrong, but the path to growth is paved with humility. In John 14:6, Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” If our goal is truly to know and follow Jesus, then we must be willing to let Him challenge our assumptions and transform our beliefs. Let’s not settle for inherited faith or convenient beliefs. Let’s seek the Lord, dive into His Word, and ask Him to shape our minds and hearts.

Lord, I confess that sometimes I hold tightly to beliefs simply because they’re familiar. But I want Your truth to shape my life, to transform my mind, and renew my thinking. Show me where I need to grow and guide me into Your perfect will. – Amen

“Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is.” -Ephesians 5:15–17

We live in a world that moves fast and pulls us in a thousand directions. Between endless to-do lists, distractions, and demands, it’s easy to find ourselves drifting through our days rather than truly living them. That’s why Paul’s words in Ephesians 5 are so timely and vital. He reminds us to be very careful in how we live—to walk wisely, to seize every moment, and to stay in step with God’s will. This kind of living doesn’t happen by accident. It takes intentionality.

Intentionality means we make deliberate choices—about how we spend our time, where we place our focus, and how we respond to God’s leading. If we’re not purposeful in pursuing time with God, it won’t just happen. Time with Him will get squeezed out by everything else. If we don’t deliberately choose to obey God’s commands and walk in His ways, we’ll find ourselves shaped more by the culture around us than by the Spirit within us. Paul is urging us to pay attention—to live with our eyes wide open, asking each day: “Am I using my time wisely? Am I aligning my life with God’s will?”

This passage also challenges us to recognize that every moment is a gift and an opportunity. When we live intentionally, we begin to notice the divine appointments in our daily routines—chances to encourage someone, opportunities to serve, quiet moments where God wants to speak. But if we live distracted or carelessly, we’ll miss those holy moments.

Our spiritual lives are a lot like a garden. They won’t thrive without intentional care. If a garden is neglected, weeds will take over, plants will die and fruit is never produced. The same can be true of our life. But when we take the time to water it with prayer, nourish it with God’s Word, and protect it with obedience, growth happens—and fruit begins to bloom.

How are we doing when it comes to intentionality? If someone looked at your calendar or screen time report, would they say that God is your priority?  Sometimes we intend to make time for God, but if it’s not scheduled or prioritized, it often gets crowded out. 

Living with intentionality means choosing regularly to put Jesus first. It means recognizing that every day is a gift and an opportunity to walk in step with Him. Our lives will not reflect God’s wisdom unless we intentionally seek His will and direction. So let’s be intentional. Let’s choose today to live with purpose, and make the most of every opportunity!

In our fast-paced world, the idea of stopping—of being still—is often seen as unproductive or even wasteful. We live in a culture that glorifies busyness, celebrates hustle, and measures worth by how much we accomplish. But God’s rhythm is different. In Psalm 46:10, we’re given a simple yet profound invitation: “Be still, and know that I am God.” It’s not a suggestion to simply relax, but a call to enter into a deeper awareness of His presence.

In a discipleship class I’ve been leading titled: Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, we’ve been learning the value of this very thing—just being with God. Not bringing Him our long to-do lists of prayers or reading Scripture only to extract something useful, but simply sitting in silence before Him. It’s surprisingly hard. Our minds wander. We feel the pressure to move on to the next thing. But when we choose to pause, something sacred begins to happen.

Our tendency is to approach God for what we can get: answers; peace; guidance; provision. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Jesus Himself tells us to ask, seek, and knock (Matthew 7:7). But what if part of our spiritual maturity is learning to come to God not just for what He gives, but simply for who He is?

Think of it like a healthy relationship. The deepest friendships and most intimate marriages aren’t built solely on constant activity or exchanged favors—they thrive in presence. In the quiet moments. In shared stillness. Our relationship with God is no different. In fact, Jesus modeled this when He often withdrew to lonely places to pray and be with the Father (Luke 5:16). If the Son of God needed stillness, how much more do we?

Even God rested on the seventh day—not because He was tired, but because He was setting a pattern for us (Genesis 2:2-3). He knew we’d need regular pauses to recalibrate our souls and re-center our hearts on Him. In my own practice, I’ve started taking just 3 to 5 minutes, a few times a day, to sit in silence and stillness before God. No words. No agenda. Just being with Him. And what I’ve discovered is that those moments act like a spiritual reset—bringing unexpected peace, clarity, and rest to my heart.

If this isn’t something you’ve tried, I encourage you to start small: one or two minutes. Let it feel awkward. Let your mind wander and gently bring it back. But keep showing up. There’s something beautiful that happens when we learn to just be with God—not for what we can get, but simply because He is worthy of our time and attention. Take time today to stop. To breathe. To be still. And to know—deeply know—that He is God!

Last Sunday, we celebrated the resurrection of Jesus—our risen Savior who conquered sin and death. Easter is a powerful reminder that Jesus did what no one else could do: He took the weight of our sin upon Himself, died in our place, and rose again to offer new life to all who believe. But here’s the truth we must not miss—Easter wasn’t the end of the story. Easter was just the beginning.

After His resurrection, Jesus spent time with His disciples, teaching them and preparing them for what would come next. And just before He ascended into heaven, He gave them this commission in Acts 1:8: “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.”Jesus had completed His mission on earth, but the mission wasn’t over—the baton was handed to His followers. And now, it’s in our hands.

This is both a privilege and a responsibility. Jesus didn’t rise from the grave just so we could celebrate once a year. He rose so that we could rise with Him—to a new life, a new purpose, and a new mission. We have been entrusted with the Good News of Jesus Christ, and our call is to go and share it. To live lives that shine so brightly with His love and truth that others are drawn to Him.

There’s a story of a man who was known for carrying a small candle everywhere he went. People thought it was odd—until they noticed that wherever he went, he brought light to dark places. He’d sit with the lonely, comfort the grieving, help the struggling, and speak encouragement to the weary. His candle wasn’t just a symbol; it was a reminder to let his life be a light. That’s our calling too. Jesus said in Matthew 5:16, “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”

The resurrection wasn’t just a moment in history—it’s the catalyst for our mission today. We don’t serve a distant or dead Savior. We serve a living King who is still transforming lives. And He’s chosen us to carry His message of hope, forgiveness, and new life to a world that desperately needs it.

The question is, are we running with the baton, or have we left it sitting at the empty tomb? Are we letting the light of Jesus shine through us in our homes, our workplaces, our neighborhoods? Are we looking for opportunities to share His love, not just with words, but with actions that reflect His heart?

Easter is the reminder of what Jesus did—but this week, and every week after, is about what we’re called to do. Let’s not just remember the resurrection—let’s live it. Let’s be His witnesses. Let’s carry the flame. Let’s go and tell. 

In Luke 9:23, Jesus speaks words that would echo through eternity: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” At the time, His disciples couldn’t really grasp the weight of what He was saying. But I imagine that as they watched Him on Good Friday—bloody, beaten, and stumbling under the weight of His cross—those words must have become painfully clear. The call to “take up your cross” wasn’t just a poetic metaphor; it was a preview of the path Jesus Himself would walk—and the road He invites us to walk with Him.

I try to avoid pain whenever I can. I think most of us do. We’re creatures of comfort, who are naturally drawn to what feels safe and secure. And in many ways, there’s wisdom in that. But when it comes to following Jesus, comfort cannot be our go-to. Christ doesn’t call us to self-preservation, He calls us to surrender.

Jesus was never about comfort. He left the majesty and safety of heaven to take on flesh and enter a broken world. He was born in a stable, walked dusty roads, endured rejection, loved the unlovable, and served the ungrateful. And on that Friday we now call “Good,” He willingly subjected Himself to public humiliation, vicious beatings, and one of the most excruciating forms of execution the world has ever known. The Son of God—who was perfect, sinless, and divine—endured it all for us. Romans 5:8 tells us: “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

At any moment, Jesus could have stopped it. He could have summoned angel armies, silenced the mockers, and stepped down from the cross. But He didn’t. Why? Because He knew the cross was the only way: the only way to break the curse of sin; the only way to reconcile us to the Father; the only way to make a way for grace.

And now, He invites us to follow Him—with our own cross: a daily surrender; a daily sacrifice. “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). This is not a call to suffering for suffering’s sake, but to be a life poured out in love. It’s a call to die to pride, selfish ambition, bitterness, and fear—and to rise in obedience, compassion, mercy, and mission.

As we reflect on the cross this Good Friday, it gives us an opportunity to ask ourselves the hard but necessary questions: 

• Have I truly been taking up my cross daily or have I been clinging to comfort and safety? 
• What does it mean for me to deny myself and follow Jesus—at home, at work, in my relationships, in my decisions?

For some, carrying the cross might mean forgiving someone who deeply hurt you. For others, it might mean stepping out in faith into a ministry God has placed on your heart. It could look like quiet faithfulness in a world chasing recognition, or bold truth-telling in a world that prefers silence. Whatever it looks like, the cross always involves a choice—to surrender our will to God’s.

On this Good Friday, may we remember that the cross is not just a symbol to wear or a story to remember—it’s a lifestyle to embrace. The road is not easy, but it leads to life. Luke 9:24 tells us “For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it.” 

Lord, give us the courage to take up our cross daily. Show us the areas where we’ve grown comfortable and help us surrender them to You. Teach us to follow You not just in word, but in action—in love, in sacrifice, in faith. And may the cross not only be what saved us, but what shapes us into the people you are calling us to be. -Amen

This Sunday is Palm Sunday—a day we remember Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The scene described in all four Gospels is one of celebration and joy. Crowds lined the streets, waving palm branches, laying their coats on the ground, and shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” -Matthew 21:9. It was a moment of public praise and hope. The people were rejoicing, convinced that Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah who had come to save them.

But just a few days later, that same crowd—or at least many from that crowd—were shouting something altogether different: “Crucify Him!” The cheers of Sunday quickly became the jeers of Friday. This drastic change seems almost impossible to comprehend. But, when we look honestly at our own hearts, we realize that we are not that different.

Throughout the Old Testament, we see this same pattern in God’s people. Time and time again, Israel praised God in seasons of blessing and then turned away in seasons of struggle or complacency. It’s not just their story—it’s ours, too. We sing worship songs on Sunday, but how quickly our hearts can grow cold by Wednesday. We rejoice when things go our way, but we grumble when life gets hard.

The irony of Palm Sunday is at the very heart of why Jesus came. He entered Jerusalem not just to receive praise, but to carry out the mission of salvation. He came to die for a people who were—and still are—inconsistent, praising Him in one breath and doubting Him in the next. And though the people wanted a Messiah who would overthrow Rome, Jesus came as a Savior who would overthrow sin and death.

This is the beauty of the Gospel: Jesus knew what was coming. He knew the shouts of “Hosanna” would become cries of “Crucify,” and still He rode into Jerusalem. Hebrews 12:2 tells us: “For the joy set before Him, He endured the cross.” That joy was you and me. That joy was the chance for broken people to be made whole again through His death and resurrection.

Palm Sunday reminds us that Jesus is worthy of our praise—not just when life feels triumphant, but when it feels like Good Friday, full of pain and questions. He’s worthy on the mountaintops and in the valleys. The key is learning to worship Him not just with our words on Sunday, but with our lives every day.

The people praised the idea of a Messiah, but when Jesus didn’t meet their expectations, they turned on Him. And truthfully, we can fall into the same trap. When life doesn’t look the way we thought it would, we may question God’s plans or distance ourselves from Him. But faith isn’t about everything making sense—it’s about trusting the One who never changes.

Are we worshipping Jesus only when things are going our way, or are we committed to worshipping Him in all seasons? Let us be people who praise Him on Sunday and on Friday—when it’s easy and when it’s hard, when the crowd cheers and when the road leads to the cross.

As Jesus told the woman at the well in John 4:23: “A time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth.” May that be true of us. May we be the kind of worshipers who lift His name high—not just when palms are waving, but when the path is painful. Because even then, Jesus is worthy.

This morning, as I was reading Colossians 4, these verses stood out to me: “Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.” — Colossians 4:5-6

I believe these words are as relevant today as they were when Paul wrote them. In a world where many people have preconceived notions about Christians—often negative ones—how we speak and act matters. Sadly, we don’t always do the best job of changing these perceptions. We are often quick to judge and can be critical of those who don’t share our beliefs. We expect people who don’t know Jesus to live as if they do, forgetting that transformation comes through Him, not before we know Him.

This is why the way we interact with others is so important. There’s a well-known saying: “You may be the only Jesus some people ever see.” If that’s true, then the question we must ask ourselves is: What kind of Jesus are they seeing? Are they seeing the love, grace, and kindness of Jesus? Or are they seeing someone who is quick to condemn, slow to listen, and unwilling to extend the very grace that God has given us?

The reality is, this isn’t always easy. We are broken people interacting with other broken people. It’s natural to want to respond in frustration when someone offends us or to lash out when someone disagrees with us. But as followers of Jesus, we are called to respond differently. James 1:19 reminds us: “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.” This requires intentionality. It means pausing before we speak, asking ourselves if our words are necessary, helpful, and full of grace. Sometimes, the wisest response is no response at all. As my first-grade teacher used to say (or actually sing), “If you can’t say something nice, don’t talk at all is my advice.”

Jesus Himself modeled this wisdom. When He was falsely accused and mocked before His crucifixion, He remained silent (Matthew 27:12-14). When He did speak, His words were purposeful, filled with truth, and grace. Even from the cross, He chose words of forgiveness rather than condemnation: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34).

We have opportunities every day to reflect Christ to the world around us. Whether in our workplaces, online interactions, or daily conversations, we have the opportunity to choose to respond in wisdom, grace, and love. My prayer is that we can be intentional about seasoning our words with salt—adding flavor, preserving truth, and bringing healing to those who hear them. And may we always strive to reflect the kindness and mercy of Jesus in everything we say and do.

Lord, help us to be wise in our words and actions. Fill our hearts with grace so that we may respond to others with love and kindness. Teach us to listen before we speak and to reflect You in every conversation. -Amen