Prodical Warrior – Forged in Failure. Restored by Grace.

Tag: Gospel

  • What If God’s Will Isn’t What You Think?

    What If God’s Will Isn’t What You Think?

    The In-Between Season: When Your Old Identity No Longer Fits

    I’m in a waiting season right now, one of those in-between stretches where the old identity no longer fits, but the new one hasn’t fully stepped into the light. I spent five years in what the world might call a sabbatical. It didn’t look like progress to anyone watching from the outside, but it was the Lord anchoring me in truth. Not the truth of who I once was in terms of career, or the kind of success that looks good on paper.

    When Success Isn’t Satisfaction: Chasing Titles, Missing Peace

    I spent years climbing what I believed were mountains of success. Most people wouldn’t even consider them mountains, but I did, because my heart was always trying to prove something. I left a daytime FM station in my hometown and chased bigger markets, loftier titles, and higher salaries. I landed radio executive roles in major cities, with compensation to match.

    I achieved much of what I set out to do.

    But it never satisfied me.

    Even in my greatest rebellion against God, I was never fully deceived about that. I could feel the emptiness even while I was “winning.” When the adrenaline wore off, when the meetings ended, when the noise faded and the quiet settled in, I knew. That kind of success cannot hold the weight we place on it. It’s like leaning your entire life on a fence post already rotting at the base. Sooner or later, it gives way. The created thing cannot replace the Creator. It can’t hold the soul.

    Doors Are Opening—But That’s Not the Whole Story

    Today, I’m preparing to return to radio. I’m actively in conversation with different organizations. Doors are opening. And I truly believe that some of the best times in life and work are still ahead of me.

    But here’s the shift the Lord has carved into my thinking: I no longer assume the best days ahead automatically mean “this is God’s will for my life.”

    The Dangerous Misuse of ‘God’s Will for My Life’

    That phrase, “God’s will for my life”, gets used among sincere Christians in ways Scripture simply doesn’t support. What we often mean by it is prosperity, health, relational fulfillment, emotional happiness, and circumstantial success. We speak as though God’s will is a life that looks polished from the outside. But vague spiritual language can subtly confuse God’s will with personal desire. It can cause us to measure God’s love by our circumstances. It can burden suffering believers with expectations God never gave.

    Here’s a sobering reality: Scripture never uses the phrase “God’s will for your life” in the way we commonly do. So when we use it, we’re interpreting, not quoting. And if we’re going to speak for God, we must be certain we’re using His words.

    What Scripture Actually Says About God’s Will

    God Himself draws a humbling line:

    “The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever.” —Deuteronomy 29:29

    There are secret things, outcomes, timelines, details, that belong to the Lord. He has not promised to reveal the entire storyline. But there are revealed things that do belong to us: how to live, what faithfulness looks like, what obedience means, what holiness and endurance require.

    Faith trusts God without demanding explanations. Obedience often precedes understanding. That’s not weakness. That’s just what it means to be a creature, not the Creator.

    God’s Will Isn’t Circumstantial—It’s Transformational

    And we must say this without flinching: prosperity, health, and happiness are not the defining markers of God’s will or God’s love. If they were, the implications would be cruel.

    • If prosperity equals love, then the poor are unloved.
    • If health equals favor, then the sick and disabled are unfavored.
    • If happiness equals blessing, then the sorrowful are rejected.

    Scripture doesn’t support that logic.

    • Job was righteous, and he suffered.
    • Paul was faithful, and afflicted.
    • Timothy was godly, and sick.
    • Lazarus was loved, and poor.
    • And Christ, sinless Christ, was crucified.

    If suffering disproved love, then the cross would invalidate the love of God. But it doesn’t. In fact, the cross corrects our circumstantial theology. It declares once and for all that God’s love is not measured by comfort, and God’s favor is not proven by ease. If you want to know what God thinks of you, you don’t read your circumstances like tea leaves, you look at The Cross.

    Biblical Definitions of God’s Will: Stated, Not Assumed

    Not inferred, not deduced from open doors, but explicitly stated?

    “For this is the will of God, your sanctification.” —1 Thessalonians 4:3
    “Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” —1 Thessalonians 5:18
    “For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people.” —1 Peter 2:15
    “It is better to suffer for doing good, if that should be God’s will.” —1 Peter 3:17
    “Let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good.” —1 Peter 4:19

    God’s will is moral and formative, not circumstantial. He is shaping a people, not simply arranging an easy path. He is forming us into the image of Christ. Some of the sweetest fruit grows in the roughest soil, and God is not afraid of rough soil.

    The Problem With Testimony Culture and Comfort Christianity

    This is where modern Christianity has drifted. Somewhere between being a persecuted minority and becoming a cultural majority, comfort reshaped our expectations. Success began to be interpreted as favor, ease as blessing, and suffering as abnormal, something to fix, avoid, or explain away. “Testimony culture” didn’t help. Stories of triumph were celebrated. Stories of endurance were overlooked. So “God’s will” slowly became shorthand for the best outcome, the safest path, and the most fulfilling option.

    But biblical blessing and cultural prosperity are not the same thing.

    • Biblical blessing is belonging to God, being kept by Him, and being shaped for His purposes.
    • Cultural blessing is accumulation, comfort, and ease.

    Godliness Is Not a Means of Gain—God Is the Gain

    Scripture warns us about those who treat godliness as a business model:

    “…imagining that godliness is a means of gain.” —1 Timothy 6:5

    Godliness is not gain. God is the gain. A person can have full pockets and an empty soul, and you can’t spend your way out of that kind of poverty. I tried and I saw people in my career with unhinged wealth and completely empty.

    Where God’s Promises Actually Stand: Anchored in Christ

    Where can a believer plant their feet and not slip?

    In Him.

    “For all the promises of God find their Yes in him.” —2 Corinthians 1:20

    • God has promised forgiveness and justification: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” —Romans 8:1
    • God has promised His presence: “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” —Hebrews 13:5
    • God has promised sufficient grace: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” —2 Corinthians 12:9
    • God has promised conformity to Christ: “To be conformed to the image of his Son.” —Romans 8:29
    • God has promised future glory: “The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” —Romans 8:18
    • God has promised completion: “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion.” —Philippians 1:6

    Christ, Not Comfort. Promises, Not Outcomes. Presence, Not Control.

    Yes, God gives good gifts. He delights in His children. But His gifts are not guarantees that life will look impressive. And they were never meant to be the measure of His love. He loves us too much to let career, applause, money, or status or social following become our definitions of blessing. He knows what produces true contentment:

    • Christ, not comfort.
    • Promises, not outcomes.
    • Presence, not control.

    Learning to Speak with Biblically Safe Language in the Waiting

    So in this waiting season, in this transitional stretch where the old story is behind me and the next chapter is opening, I’m learning to speak with biblically safe language and hopefully this helps you:

    • God promised to forgive us.
    • God promised to be with us.
    • God promised sustaining grace for us.
    • God promised to finish His work in us.

    That changes everything.

    It means I can return to radio with open hands whenever that comes. I can accept a job without idolizing it. I can succeed without mistaking it for God’s love. We can suffer without believing He has abandoned us.

    Because God’s will is not revealed by outcomes. God’s love is not measured by comfort. God’s promises are not circumstantial.

    What we know for sure is already here in His word, not guessed, not assumed, not measured by prosperity, but revealed by God Himself, centered in Christ, and strong enough to sustain us through all circumstances.

  • Presumption: The Quiet Road to Ruin

    Presumption: The Quiet Road to Ruin

    “For if we go on sinning deliberately after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins.” — Hebrews 10:26 (ESV)

    The quiet confession

    I’ve watched men get taken out without an explosion, just a slow drift.
    Still saying the right things. Still sounding “solid.” Still telling themselves, I’m fine.

    I’ve lived that lie too: claiming Christ while keeping corners of my life off-limits. I called it peace. It was presumption.

    When God names the disease

    Moses puts his finger on it:

    “…when he hears the words of this sworn covenant, he blesses himself in his heart, saying, ‘I shall be safe, though I walk in the stubbornness of my heart.’” — Deuteronomy 29:19 (ESV)

    That’s where it happens: he blesses himself in his heart.
    God warns. Conviction flickers. Then a man writes his own verdict over God’s Word: I’m safe.

    The lie that sounds like peace

    Presumption doesn’t usually show up loud. It shows up quiet.

    It talks like this:

    • God understands.
    • It’s not that serious.
    • I’m at peace about it.
    • I’ll deal with it later.
    • I’m under grace.

    But this isn’t confusion. It’s self-rule, wanting God’s promises while keeping your own throne.

    You can keep religious speech while your heart stays far:

    “…this people draw near with their mouth and honor me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me…” — Isaiah 29:13 (ESV)

    And here’s the difference that exposes everything:
    Biblical peace isn’t self-declared calm. Peace is reconciliation with God.

    So yes, a man can feel fine while he’s at war with God. Not because God is cruel, but because God is holy.

    And grace never becomes a permission slip:

    “Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means!” — Romans 6:1–2 (ESV)

    Grace saves. And grace changes.

    Jesus doesn’t let “Lord” be a nickname

    Jesus tightens the screws:

    “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you?” — Luke 6:46 (ESV)

    Not perfection—allegiance.
    Not vibes—obedience.
    Not familiarity—submission.

    Hebrews 10:26 isn’t hunting the broken man who hates his sin and runs to Christ. It’s warning the man who receives truth and then keeps choosing deliberate sin, treating the blood of Christ like background noise.

    Mercy that refuses to flatter you

    Here’s the kindness of God: He warns because He intends to rescue.
    The cut of Scripture isn’t proof He’s against you. It’s often proof He’s close.

    “Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent.” — Revelation 3:19 (ESV)

    God would not let me keep calling darkness “peace.” He exposed me, not to shame me, but to save me.

    How a man turns, fast and for real

    1. Stop blessing yourself.
      Call sin what God calls sin.
    2. Step into the light.
      “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us… and to cleanse us…” — 1 John 1:9 (ESV)
    3. Cut the deal you’ve been keeping.
      Confession without turning becomes another hiding place.
    4. Receive peace from God.
      Not self-made calm, peace with God through Christ.

    One concrete move that shatters presumption quickly:
    Bring the sin into the light with one mature brother in Christ, and take one costly act of obedience today. Not a vow. Not a speech. A real turn. Light kills secret agreements.

    A closing that tastes like reverence

    You don’t negotiate surrender. You surrender.

    Christ receives repentant hearts.
    Christ cleanses.
    Christ changes.

    That’s not sentiment. That’s resurrection power!

  • God Joins What I Keep Trying To Separate

    God Joins What I Keep Trying To Separate

    I need to start this the right way, not with me standing over anybody, but with me standing where I actually belong, under the Word, under conviction, under mercy.

    Because grace is easy to talk about like it’s a clean subject. Like it’s something we can explain without cost. But it has never been clean for me. I have watched my flesh sabotage what my lips claimed to love. I know the inner war, not as a topic, but as a place I have lived.

    Romans 7:15 (KJV)
    “For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I.”

    Romans 7:24 (KJV)
    “O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?”

    So when we talk about grace, we are not playing with ideas. We are dealing with the only thing that can rescue real sinners and still keep God holy.

    Here is what I have learned the hard way: we can corrupt grace in two directions. We can try to earn it, like God is impressed by effort. Or we can try to use it as cover, like mercy means we do not have to change. Both are the same sin wearing different clothes. Either way, we are separating what God joins together: mercy and holiness, comfort and judgment, forgiveness and repentance.

    We say we want God, but what we often want is a version of God that does not interrupt us.

    Isaiah 61 is one of the clearest places Scripture refuses to let us do that. Isaiah does not let us cut God in half. He does not let us keep the parts that soothe us and throw out the parts that sanctify us.

    Isaiah 61:2 (KJV)
    “To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn;”

    Those two phrases sit side by side, and they expose us. When we are ashamed, we want “the acceptable year.” When we are offended, we want “the day of vengeance.” When we are exposed, we want mercy without cleansing. When we are wounded, we want justice without humility. So we edit. We don’t call it editing, we call it emphasis, but we are still trying to separate what God joined.

    Scripture will not let us do that. The Messiah comes with real comfort and real liberty, and He comes with real judgment, because the Lord is not only kind. He is right.

    Then Jesus walks into Nazareth and reads from Isaiah 61 in the synagogue. He stops at a certain point, and He puts a claim on the moment.

    Luke 4:21 (KJV)
    “And he began to say unto them, This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears.”

    Jesus was not erasing judgment. He was announcing that His first coming was the arrival of mercy, the opening of the door, the proclamation of good news to sinners who know they cannot save themselves. Scripture tells us there is also a day of final judgment appointed. Both are true, and we do not get to pick the one that fits our mood.

    That scene is a flashpoint because it exposes two lies we still carry:

    1. Lie #1: Grace means God no longer judges.
      Scripture does not teach that. Grace is not God going soft on sin. Grace is God saving sinners without betraying His holiness.
    2. Lie #2: If Messiah is here, then vengeance should fall on our enemies immediately.
      A lot of people wanted Jesus to crush the people they hated. But when Jesus pressed mercy, the room turned on Him. That is not just history, it is a mirror. The flesh often prefers judgment on others more than mercy that humbles us.

    So the question lands on us: Do we want grace that rescues sinners and forms holiness? Or do we want a message that blesses our side and leaves our flesh intact?

    If we want to understand grace, we cannot stay at the level of slogans. We have to go to the cross, because the cross is where God joins what we keep trying to separate.

    Romans 3:26 (KJV)
    “To declare, I say, at this time his righteousness: that he might be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus.”

    That means God does not forgive by pretending evil is not evil. He forgives by dealing with sin truly, and saving sinners righteously. Grace is not God saying, “It is fine.” Grace is God saying, “It is sin, and I will deal with it fully, and I will save you freely.”

    Romans 3:25 (KJV)
    “Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God;”

    Judgment is not erased. Judgment is satisfied. The acceptable year is real—God welcomes repentant sinners. The day of vengeance is real—God does not shrug at sin. The cross is where both meet without contradiction.

    Romans 5:21 (KJV)
    “That as sin hath reigned unto death, even so might grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord.”

    Grace reigns through righteousness, not through denial. That is why grace is never permission. Scripture tells us plainly that the grace that saves is the grace that trains.

    Titus 2:11-12 (KJV)
    “For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men,
    Teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world;”

    If what we call grace is not training us to deny sin, then we are not talking about grace. We are talking about a peace treaty with the flesh.

    But here is the comfort too: Scripture also tells us the Lord’s grace is sufficient, and that we can come to Him for mercy and help. When we fall, grace is not cover to stay down. Grace is power to come back quickly and clean.

    1 John 1:9 (KJV)
    “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

    Not faithful and soft. Faithful and just. Even our forgiveness is righteous, because Jesus paid for it.

    And when I want a picture of a man who stopped separating what God joined, I think about Joseph. Joseph looked evil in the face without calling it good, and he trusted God without becoming naive.

    Genesis 50:20 (KJV)
    “But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.”

    Joseph did not deny the evil. He refused bitterness. That is grace maturing a man. Clean in secret. Steady under pressure. Merciful when revenge is available. That is what grace does, not because we are naturally better, but because God is faithful to form what He saves.

    Here is the line I want us to keep: God joins what we keep trying to separate. Mercy and holiness. Comfort and judgment. Forgiveness and repentance. If we tear those apart, we do not protect grace, we poison it.

    So one next faithful step for today is simple. We stop editing God to protect our flesh. We let Scripture speak whole. We ask the Lord to make us the kind of people who receive mercy, love holiness, and trust Him with judgment. Because the goal is not to sound spiritual. The goal is to be surrendered.

    Plant your life where the gospel is preached and the Word is opened.

    Show up when it costs you.

    Stay when it stretches you.

    Serve when no one applauds.

    Confess when performance would be easier.

    Receive communion with a clean heart and surrendered will.

    Let the gospel soak deep, into your habits, your thinking, your desires.

    Because if we won’t be formed by a gospel-preaching church, we will be formed by whatever shouts the loudest in our life.

  • God Does Not Approve Folly, He Repays It

    God Does Not Approve Folly, He Repays It

    I get why Proverbs 26:10 can stop us cold. I have read it and thought, “Why would God reward fools and transgressors?” The defense is not to soften the verse; it is to understand what it is actually saying. The verse is not teaching that God applauds sin. It is teaching that God repays it.

    “The great God that formed all things both rewardeth the fool, and rewardeth transgressors.” – Proverbs 26:10, KJV

    The context is warning, not praise

    Proverbs 26 is a whole chapter of warning lights about fools. The repeated point is simple: when a fool is trusted, promoted, sent, or honored, damage follows. This chapter is not building a case for fools, it is exposing them.

    So when we come to verse 10, we should not suddenly switch genres and assume it is congratulating wicked men. It is still in the same lane. It is dealing with outcomes, consequences, and the moral order God built into His world.

    The Hebrew line is difficult, but the key word supports “recompense”

    This is one of the harder Hebrew lines in Proverbs, and that matters because it explains why English translations can look very different. The KJV reads the opening as God’s greatness and creation, but other renderings read it more like a picture of a master, or even an archer, causing widespread harm, then compare that harm to what happens when a fool is hired.

    Here is why the Hebrew can pull in those directions:

    The word often behind “rewardeth” is tied to the idea of hiring and wages. It is the kind of word you would use for paying someone, like wages handed over for work done. That is important because wages can be good or bad depending on what is earned. It is payment, not praise.

    Another word in the line, often rendered “transgressors” in the KJV, comes from a root meaning “to pass over.” That can be taken as “passers-by” in some readings, or “those who cross the line” in the moral sense, which is where “transgressors” comes from. The KJV reads it morally, and that is a legitimate way the word can be understood.

    Even the opening words can be read in more than one way. A term translated “great” can also point to a “master” in some contexts, and the verb translated “formed” can be connected either to forming and bringing forth, or in another line of thought to causing injury. That is why you sometimes see the “archer who wounds everyone” style of proverb in other renderings.

    But here is the main defense: even if we stay with the KJV wording, the verse is not saying God rewards sin with blessing. The “reward” language still fits the idea of wages, repayment, and recompense.

    “Reward” in Scripture is often payback, not a trophy

    In Scripture, “reward” can mean recompense, giving someone what their deeds earn. Sometimes that is blessing. Sometimes it is judgment.

    Isaiah says the righteous will eat the fruit of their deeds, and the wicked will receive what their hands have earned. Paul says God will render to every man according to his deeds. That is not God approving evil. That is God being just.

    So Proverbs 26:10 can be read like this in plain speech: the God who made all things also governs outcomes, and He pays back fools and transgressors with what their ways earn. The “reward” of sin is not favor, it is consequence.

    God’s sovereignty means no one escapes the moral order

    The KJV opens with “The great God that formed all things.” That is not filler. It is the foundation. If God formed all things, then He owns the order of the world, including the moral order.

    That is why Scripture can say, “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” When we sow folly, we reap loss. When we sow transgression, we reap trouble. That is not luck. That is the hand of God keeping His world from becoming morally meaningless.

    What the verse is teaching us

    Proverbs 26:10 is not inviting us to envy fools or assume God will overlook rebellion. It is warning us that God is not fooled by foolishness and He is not charmed by sin. The Lord is patient, but He is not confused. The bill always comes due.

    So the defense is straightforward:

    “Reward” here is not approval. It is repayment. God repays the fool with the fruit of folly, and He repays the transgressor with the fruit of transgression. The verse is not troubling once we read it the way Scripture uses “reward” and the way Proverbs 26 speaks about fools.

    If we want one line to carry into everyday life, it is this: God does not sponsor sin, He settles accounts.

    So Proverbs 26:10 is not God handing out favors to fools. It is God handing out wages. That is not God being harsh, that is God being just. And that is mercy too, because it tells us the truth before we learn it the hard way. We do not have to stay foolish. We can fear the Lord, turn, and walk in wisdom.

  • When Jesus Was Clear and They Said Nothing

    When Jesus Was Clear and They Said Nothing

    There is this feeling: reading the Gospels and suddenly feeling a jolt of tension. Jesus says something heavy, something that should freeze everyone in their tracks, but the Disciples stay quiet. The disciples don’t react. No questions. No emotion. It’s eerie.

    In Matthew 20:17–19, Jesus lays it out plainly: betrayal, condemnation, mocking, scourging, crucifixion, and resurrection on the third day resurrection.

    Crystal clear.

    But the next moment? James and John’s mother is asking for power seats in the kingdom. No pause, no processing. Just political maneuvering. It reads like whiplash.

    But that whiplash is the point.

    The silence wasn’t because Jesus mumbled. It’s because they still didn’t have eyes for the kind of Messiah He truly is.

    They Heard the Words, But Had No Place to Put Them

    Luke 18:34 gives us more insight: “They understood none of these things: and this saying was hid from them.”

    This isn’t stubbornness. It’s spiritual blindness. The words didn’t fit their framework.

    They were close to Jesus, involved in ministry, but still blind to what God was doing, because it clashed with their assumptions.

    Proximity is not the same as perception.

    Their theology expected a reigning Messiah, not a crucified one. Even after the resurrection, they asked, “Lord, will you now restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6). They loved Jesus, but they were still thinking in terms of political power.

    So when He spoke of suffering, it sounded not just troubling, but theologically impossible.

    If your Christ must always match your expectations, you’re not following Christ. You’re following something else.

    The Cross Brought Understanding

    After the resurrection, something changed: “Then opened He their understanding, that they might understand the Scriptures.” (Luke 24:45)

    The cross wasn’t just an event, it was the key that unlocked the meaning of the Scriptures.

    As Paul said, “Had they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.” (1 Cor. 2:8)

    The cross wasn’t a tragic misstep. It was the plan all along – “by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God.” (Acts 2:23)

    Until that plan was fulfilled, the disciples stood in front of a locked door. The key was in Jesus’ hand, He just hadn’t used it yet.

    The Old Testament Preached a Suffering Messiah, But They Missed It

    Isaiah 53 begins with a piercing question:
    “Who hath believed our report? And to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?”

    Revealed, not deduced. Not assumed. Revealed.

    They saw suffering and assumed punishment. Isaiah says suffering is the pathway to salvation.

    Their framework: “If He’s suffering, He’s losing.”
    Isaiah’s truth: “If He’s suffering, He’s saving.”

    Psalm 22 does the same: it begins in anguish and ends in glory. Israel clung to the victory but ignored the valley.

    Daniel 9:26 explicitly says, “Messiah shall be cut off, but not for Himself.” Death, not triumph, would come first.

    So in Luke 24, the risen Christ walks them through the Scriptures, showing them all the “things concerning Himself.” The text was always there, the meaning was veiled until the Lamb had been slain and raised.

    First Concealed. Then Revealed. Then Proclaimed.

    This is not a messy story, it’s ordered, intentional:

    • Prophecy was given, sometimes sealed (Dan. 12:4)
    • Jesus began revealing, but asked for silence early on (Luke 9:21)
    • The cross came on schedule (Acts 2:23)
    • The resurrection confirmed everything
    • Then their understanding was opened (Luke 24:45)
    • And proclamation was commanded (Matt. 28:19)

    Even demons had correct information but no understanding. They recognized Jesus, but misunderstood His mission.

    Glory without suffering doesn’t produce Christianity. It produces a counterfeit.

    5. Why This Matters Now

    This isn’t just about the disciples. It’s about us.

    → Obedience often comes before understanding.

    They followed Jesus confused. We want clarity first, surrender second. But Scripture says, “Trust in the Lord… and lean not on your own understanding” (Prov. 3:5)

    → God’s work often contradicts our expectations.

    They wanted visible triumph. God sent a crucified Savior. We do the same when we expect ease instead of endurance.

    “My thoughts are not your thoughts” (Isa. 55:8) isn’t a scolding. It’s a comfort.

    → Waiting can be faith, not failure.

    “It is good to quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord.” (Lam. 3:26)
    Silence doesn’t always mean stagnation. It can mean trust.

    → The cross redefines victory.

    The disciples wanted triumph over Rome. Jesus brought triumph over sin and death. That’s not just doctrine, it’s our discipleship.

    “If we suffer, we shall also reign with Him.” (2 Tim. 2:12)

    Final Thought

    Their silence wasn’t apathy. It was blindness, waiting for God’s moment of revelation.

    And when it came, when Jesus opened their eyes, they became bold, not because of better personality, but because of resurrection power.

    That same God is still teaching His people.
    Not all at once.
    But always on time.

    And this is why we need a church that actually preaches the gospel. Not a place that just nods at Jesus, sprinkles in a verse, and sends us home with motivational thoughts. We need a church where the cross is not an ornament, it’s the center. Where Christ crucified and risen is not assumed, it’s proclaimed! Where sin is named honestly, grace is held out freely, and repentance is not treated like an insult but like a doorway into life.

    Because if the disciples could walk with Jesus and still miss the meaning until God opened their understanding, then we should not pretend we’re above that. We need shepherding. We need the Word opened. We need the Table. We need brothers who will tell us the truth when our categories start drifting toward comfort, power, and self. A church that feeds us Scripture, not hype. A church that teaches us how to suffer with hope, obey without full clarity, and worship God instead of using Him.

    So we don’t just need information. We need formation. We don’t just need content. We need covenant. Find a gospel preaching church and plant your life in it and scripture. Show up when it’s inconvenient. Sit under the preaching even when it corrects you. Serve when nobody notices. Confess when you’d rather perform. Take communion with a clean conscience and a soft heart. Let the gospel get into your bones.

    If we won’t be shaped by a gospel preaching church, we will be shaped by whatever is loudest in our ears.

  • The Kingdom Wage

    The Kingdom Wage

    I know how this works in my own chest. Last spring, I was headed toward Birmingham and got pulled over for speeding. Blue lights. Heart in my throat. Hands on the wheel. And immediately, I’m praying for mercy. Grace, grace, grace. I want the officer to consider the traffic, my intentions, my schedule, my humanity. I want grace to feel like a warm blanket.

    But I got what I deserved. I got the ticket.

    Now here’s the ugly part of me. Let somebody fly past me in October, weaving through traffic on the way to a football game, and then I see them on the shoulder with lights flashing. All of a sudden I’m not praying for grace. I’m saying, “That’s what you get.”

    Justice for them. Grace for me.

    That’s a little sermon right there.

    Grace vs. the Pharisee Heart

    We all carry a Pharisee inside. We may not wear the robes, but we do carry the scales. We measure other people with a ruler and ourselves with a cushion. When it’s their failure, we want consequences. When it’s ours, we want context.

    Jesus tells a parable in Matthew 20 that walks straight into that instinct and turns the lights on. It doesn’t just challenge our theology. It exposes how quickly we turn grace into a wage system.

    “But many that are first shall be last; and the last shall be first.” — Matthew 19:30

    A Vineyard of Unearned Gifts

    Jesus continues with a parable. A landowner hires workers early in the morning and agrees on a day’s wage. Later, he goes out again, and again, even at the eleventh hour. When payday comes, he pays the last workers first and gives them a full day’s wage.

    The early workers see it and start doing the math. But when they get paid, they receive exactly what they agreed to. And they grumble.

    This parable isn’t mainly about money. It’s about what comes out of us when God is generous to people we secretly rank beneath us.

    “And when he had agreed with the labourers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard.” — Matthew 20:2

    They negotiated. Clear contract. Clean terms. The problem isn’t the agreement. It’s how fast they turned someone else’s mercy into a demand for more.

    Grace Cannot Be Managed

    A lot of us approach God that way. We treat obedience like leverage. Faithfulness like a down payment. Service like a claim ticket. We don’t say “God owes me,” but we feel it.

    The later workers show up with no bargaining and no contract.

    “Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is right I will give you.” — Matthew 20:4

    That line divides people. Some of us don’t want a King. We want a system. A system can be controlled. Grace cannot. Grace begins where bargaining ends.

    What We Think We Deserve

    When payday comes, the early workers supposed they should have received more.

    “But when the first came, they supposed that they should have received more.” — Matthew 20:10

    That word — supposed — is a heart X-ray. Entitlement isn’t proven by what we receive. It’s revealed by what we think we deserve compared to someone else.

    They don’t accuse the owner of cheating. They accuse him of making them equal.

    “These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us.” — Matthew 20:12

    That’s the complaint: equal.

    Pride can endure hardship. Pride cannot endure equality.

    We love justice until we’re the defendant. We want strictness pointed outward and understanding pointed inward. When we say “That’s not fair,” most of the time what we mean is “Make it favor me.”

    How Scorekeeping Kills Joy

    That’s why comparison poisons joy. It turns obedience into leverage. Service into scorekeeping. Church into a scoreboard.

    “I stayed faithful. Why are they blessed?”
    “I worked harder. Why are they restored?”
    “I showed up early. Why are they celebrated?”

    That’s the older brother spirit. Close to the house. Cold toward the father. Obedient, but angry that mercy could be that free.

    The landowner answers with quiet authority:

    “Friend, I do thee no wrong: didst not thou agree with me for a penny?” — Matthew 20:13
    “Take that thine is, and go thy way: I will give unto this last, even as unto thee.” — Matthew 20:14

    God is not managed by our expectations. Grace to someone else is not injustice to us.

    “Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own? Is thine eye evil, because I am good?” — Matthew 20:15

    The issue isn’t injustice. It’s envy.

    The Kingdom Is Not a Ladder

    Jesus is making a point about entrance into the Kingdom. The wage here is salvation, belonging, sonship. And that gift is not graduated.

    No one is more saved than another. No one is more forgiven. No one is more adopted.

    “And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ.” — Romans 8:17

    Early or late, we get the same Christ.

    That’s why grace to the thief on the cross offends the scorekeeper.

    “Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.” — Luke 23:42
    “To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.” — Luke 23:43

    Late mercy. Full welcome.

    Jesus closes with a warning.

    “So the last shall be first, and the first last: for many be called, but few chosen.” — Matthew 20:16

    Being around grace is not the same as trusting grace. We can work in the vineyard while resenting the owner.

    Obedience Is Not a Wage Claim

    Here’s what matters. Showing up early still matters, not because it earns love, but because it saves years. Obedience isn’t a wage claim. It’s a pathway of life.

    “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works.” — Ephesians 2:10

    The tragedy isn’t that late workers get in. The tragedy is that some of us spent years negotiating when we could have been walking with Him.

    The Kingdom wage isn’t status. It isn’t comparison.

    The wage is Jesus Himself.

    A Final Word

    If you don’t know Jesus, or you’ve been in church a long time and you’re tired of milk, find a church that actually preaches the gospel. You will know it when you hear it, because it won’t feel like a pep talk. A lot of the time, it won’t be the biggest room with the loudest lights either. Too many gatherings have traded a pulpit for a stage and swapped a clear message for smooth words that tell us we’re fine.

    The real gospel doesn’t flatter us. It tells the truth about our sin, then lifts our eyes to a real Savior, a bloody cross, an empty tomb, and a risen King who is worth our whole life.

  • Man’s Offense to the Gospel

    Man’s Offense to the Gospel

    Let’s be honest. The gospel does not begin by comforting us. It begins by confronting us.

    It walks straight up to the identity most of us spend our lives building: our work ethic, toughness, competence, morality, and control. And it says, “That is not enough.” It tells the man who works hard, pays the bills, shows up, and keeps it together that underneath the image and effort is a weakness he cannot fix on his own. That cuts against everything we want to believe about ourselves.

    God does not say this to shame us. He says it because He loves us enough to tell us the truth. The gospel wounds the lie so it can heal the soul.

    For me, it wasn’t just comfort or success or pleasure. It was microphones, platforms, and proximity to important people. I lived close to the spotlight and acted like that meant I mattered. The gospel stepped into the middle of that life and said, “None of this can save you. You are not the hero here. You are the one who needs rescuing.”

    “Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.” — Revelation 4:11

    Everything in us wants a version of faith where we still get to wear the crown. But the real gospel removes it and puts it where it belongs — on Jesus Christ.

    We Are Not the Hero

    Jesus did not call us independent. He did not call us self-made. He called us sheep.

    “I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep.” — John 10:11

    That can offend us. We want to believe we are fine, strong, capable, and self-sufficient. But sheep are not impressive. They are fragile. They panic easily. They follow each other into danger. They get stuck, tangled, flipped over, and if no one intervenes, they die.

    And Jesus says, “That’s you.” He is not mocking us. He is naming our need so we can stop pretending we do not have one.

    “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.” — Isaiah 53:6

    We are not the shepherd. We are the sheep. And sheep do not rescue themselves. They follow the One who lays down His life to rescue them.

    We Are Not the Savior

    Scripture goes even deeper and calls the Church the Bride of Christ.

    “Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it.” — Ephesians 5:25

    If you’re a man, that may be hard to picture. I get it. I never wanted to be called a bride. But the point is not about clothing. The point is about position. We are not the savior in the story. We are the ones being loved, pursued, washed, and covered.

    The gospel keeps pulling the spotlight off of us and putting it on Jesus, where it belongs.

    Grace That Trains, Not Just Forgives

    Grace does not stop at forgiveness.

    “For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world.” — Titus 2:11–12

    Grace does not flatter. Grace trains. It does not excuse sin. It breaks sin’s grip and teaches us how to live free.

    This is why the gospel still offends us. It confronts human pride. We want to believe we are basically okay — that we just need a little improvement, a little inspiration, a little religion.

    But the gospel says something else. We are not in control. We cannot save ourselves. We need mercy, not a makeover.

    “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God. Not of works, lest any man should boast.” — Ephesians 2:8–9

    Jesus did not model strength the way the world does.

    “For even the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.” — Mark 10:45

    In His kingdom, strength looks like service. Authority looks like sacrifice. Life is found by losing it.

    Obedience, Not Lip Service

    A person can look spiritual on the surface and still resist God underneath. We can know the language, attend gatherings, even serve, and still keep certain areas off limits. We obey when it is convenient. We pray when we are scared. We call Jesus “Lord,” but we keep control.

    “And why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?” — Luke 6:46

    Jesus does not ask for a corner of our life. He calls for the whole thing.

    And for some of us, the deepest wounds didn’t come from the world. They came from the church. Hypocrisy. Abuse of authority. People who talked about grace but practiced control. That pain is real. But armor built from bitterness does not protect us. It only keeps healing out.

    “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want… He restoreth my soul.” — Psalm 23:1, 3

    Healing does not come from finding a perfect church. It comes from returning to the perfect Shepherd often through faithful, imperfect people who point us back to Christ.

    The Gospel That Offends, Also Heals

    If this confronts you, you are not being rejected. You are being invited.

    If you are tired of holding it together, tired of proving yourself, tired of pretending you are fine while your soul is shrinking, that is not the end. That is the doorway.

    “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9

    The gospel that offends our pride is the same gospel that rebuilds our life. It does not aim to make us smaller. It aims to make us whole.

    There is a throne. It is not ours.

    Take the crown off. Come to Christ. Follow the Shepherd.

    A Final Word

    If you do not know Jesus, or you go to church and want more meat than milk, look for a church that preaches the gospel. You will know when you hear it. Most of the time, it is not where the rooms are massive and the lights and music are loud and the message just flatters. Many of those gatherings have turned into concerts with smooth words that tell us we are fine.

    The real gospel does not flatter us. It tells the truth about our sin. Then it lifts our eyes to a real Savior, a bloody cross, an empty tomb, and a risen King who is worth our whole life.

  • When You’re Done Negotiating with Jesus

    When You’re Done Negotiating with Jesus

    There comes a moment, sometimes more than one, when the life a man has been carrying collapses under its own weight. Not because Jesus failed him, but because the version of faith he built could not survive the truth. I know that place. I know it well.

    What collapsed was not Christ’s faithfulness. What collapsed was my attempt to keep sin and keep Jesus at the same time. I tried to live divided: close enough to God to feel safe, far enough to stay in control. That kind of life does not hold.

    “A double minded man is unstable in all his ways.” — James 1:8

    I did not leave God because I was smarter than faith. I walked away because I was tired of pretending. I wanted forgiveness without surrender. Grace without training. Christ as Savior, not as Lord. So I ran. Slowly at first. Then faster. Compromise followed compromise until despair felt more honest than belief. Eventually, I stopped saying, “I’m struggling.” I started saying, “There is no God.” That was not reason. That was exhaustion soaked in sin.

    God did not argue with me. He let me collapse. He let my confidence run out. He let my image fall apart. He let my ability to manage appearances fail. Not because He is cruel, but because He is a Father who loves too much to leave a son pretending.

    “For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.” — Hebrews 12:6

    I did not need motivation. I needed death, death to negotiating, death to managing, death to the lie that I could follow Jesus on my terms.

    “We are buried with him by baptism into death… that we should walk in newness of life.” — Romans 6:4

    I come from a line of faithful men. Ministers. Obedient men. I knew better, and that made the fall feel final. Disqualified. Finished. That weight stayed on me until I heard what happened to my grandfather. He was in his mid-eighties. He fell down the stairs and broke his leg. While sitting there in pain, he did not curse, rage, or complain. He leaned back and said, “Well… praise the Lord.” When I heard that, it crushed me. I remember thinking, I will never be that man.

    But now I see it clearly. That was not grit. That was grace. It was the fruit of a life shaped by decades of surrender. And that same grace is available for men like me. And people like us.

    In Luke 9, Jesus sets His face toward the cross. And men begin offering to follow Him, with conditions. One says, “I will follow You anywhere.” Jesus replies, “Foxes have holes, and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.” Others say the same familiar words: “Let me first.” Let me fix this. Let me get through that. Let me clean myself up.

    “No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.” — Luke 9:62

    Jesus does not ask for intentions. He calls for allegiance. Managing God and managing sin does not work. If you belong to Him, He will not leave you comfortable in what is killing you. I can say it now without bitterness. I thank God He let me collapse.

    Grace does more than pardon. Grace teaches. Grace trains. Grace changes what a man loves.

    “The grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, teaching us that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly.” — Titus 2:11–12

    When I stepped away from a decades-long career, it was not loss. It was mercy. I needed Scripture. I needed silence. I needed presence. I needed to stop performing, no platforms and finally sit with God and let Him deal with me.

    This is not about cleaning up your image. This is about coming to Christ.

    “The wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” — Romans 6:23

    The turning point is not, “I will do better.” It is, “I will come.”

    “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” — John 6:37

    If you are exhausted, not just from pain, but from living half-hidden and half-obedient, hear me: the collapse you faced or face today may be mercy. Do not confuse delay with wisdom. Do not confuse holding it together with faith. Do not confuse “let me first” with obedience.

    Let it fall. Let it die. And let Jesus raise something new. No backup plan. No secret compromise. No more negotiating. Follow Him. Not because you earned it. But because He has always been worthy.

    If you do not know Jesus, or you are in church and starving for something deeper, find a church that preaches the gospel. Look for the cross. Look for repentance. Look for Jesus at the center. You will know it when you hear it. And often it will not be in a massive room with loud lights and smooth words. Too many gatherings have become concerts with pep talks.

    The real gospel does not flatter us. It tells the truth about our sin, then lifts our eyes to a real Savior, a bloody cross, an empty tomb, and a risen King who is worth your whole life.

  • Does God Deceive?

    Does God Deceive?

    Maybe you’ve also felt the tension in these verses. We’re trying to trust the Lord, and then we stumble on lines that sound like He misled someone. Or someone simply opposed to God makes lame excuses for not following Him. So, something in us tightens up. We want to worship the God who is true, not a god who plays games with words. So, let’s do this the right way. We’ll put the hard texts up front, we’ll put the clear texts up front, and then we’ll let Scripture interpret Scripture.

    Passages That Sound Like God Deceives

    “Ah, Lord GOD! surely thou hast greatly deceived this people and Jerusalem, saying, Ye shall have peace; whereas the sword reacheth unto the soul.” — Jeremiah 4:10

    “Why is my pain perpetual, and my wound incurable, which refuseth to be healed? wilt thou be altogether unto me as a liar, and as waters that fail?” — Jeremiah 15:18

    “O LORD, thou hast deceived me, and I was deceived: thou art stronger than I, and hast prevailed: I am in derision daily, every one mocketh me.” — Jeremiah 20:7

    “Now therefore, behold, the LORD hath put a lying spirit in the mouth of these thy prophets, and the LORD hath spoken evil against thee.” — 2 Chronicles 18:22

    “And if the prophet be deceived when he hath spoken a thing, I the LORD have deceived that prophet, and I will stretch out my hand upon him, and will destroy him from the midst of my people Israel.” — Ezekiel 14:9

    “…God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie.” — 2 Thessalonians 2:11

    Passages That Are Clear: God Cannot Lie

    “God is not a man, that he should lie.” — Numbers 23:19

    “…in which it was impossible for God to lie.” — Hebrews 6:18

    “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” — John 14:6

    “Let God be true, but every man a liar.” — Romans 3:4

    “God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man.” — James 1:13

    The Tension: Questions We All Ask

    • If God cannot lie, why does Scripture say “thou hast deceived me”?
    • Is God morally guilty when people believe what is false?
    • How can God be sovereign over deception without being the author of it?
    • Are these verses describing God’s character, or God’s judgment?

    The Unshakable Foundation

    We have to begin with what cannot move. God is holy. God is true. God is light. He is not crooked, not double-tongued, not shady. Whatever these “deceived” texts mean, they cannot mean God becomes a liar. If we make them say that, we’re not being bold, we’re being careless.

    Here is the lens that keeps us steady: God does not lie, but God does judge. One of the most sobering forms of judgment in Scripture is when God gives men over to the very thing they keep choosing. God’s restraint is mercy. When He removes it, that removal is judgment. That is not God sinning, it is God letting sin run to its end.

    Living in Deception: A Personal Reflection

    This is not abstract to me. I’ve lived in a web of lies, my own and others’. And once you’re tangled up in deception, it gets hard to know what’s true anymore. You start categorizing lies: Big ones, little ones. You tell yourself you can tolerate the small ones, just don’t lie about the big stuff: adultery, cheating, betrayal. It’s like your conscience is trying to negotiate with darkness

    But when you’re a liar too, that negotiation doesn’t cleanse you. It just trains you to tolerate what’s killing you.

    God is not vague about this:

    “These six things doth the LORD hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him: A proud look, a lying tongue…” — Proverbs 6:16–17

    “Lying lips are abomination to the LORD.” — Proverbs 12:22

    “I hate and abhor lying: but thy law do I love.” — Psalm 119:163

    Living in deception is not just miserable. It is judgment shaped like chains. And at some point, if we keep rejecting truth, we shouldn’t be shocked when lying spirits start to rule the atmosphere of our lives. God doesn’t need to invent lies to judge a liar. He can simply withdraw restraint and let deception do what deception does.

    But Here Is the Mercy

    When we step into the light, God meets us there. Truth brings discernment:

    “When he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth.” — John 16:13

    Lying starts to taste foul. Even the “small” lies begin to crush us. That’s not proof you’re failing—that’s proof God is working on your heart. He’s pulling you out of the dark.

    “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” — John 8:32

    “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us…” — 1 John 1:9

    Freedom doesn’t start with better performance. It starts with telling the truth.

    Understanding the “Deceived” Texts

    Let’s walk through them with this lens in place:

    Jeremiah 4:10; 15:18; 20:7 — These are laments, not doctrinal statements. Jeremiah is bleeding, not writing a theology textbook. He is overwhelmed by the gap between what people expect from God and what judgment is unfolding. God records Jeremiah’s pain, but we don’t take that pain as a verdict on God’s character.

    2 Chronicles 18:22 — This is God judging a man (Ahab) who loved lies. Ahab rejected truth, hated the prophet who told it, and surrounded himself with flatterers. God permits a lying spirit to work through men already committed to falsehood. That’s not deception in a moral sense. That’s judgment that fits the sin.

    Ezekiel 14:9 — These people came to God with idols still in their hearts. They wanted affirmation, not repentance. So God gives them a prophet who mirrors their own rebellion. He judges the prophet and the people, exposing their motives. Again, this is courtroom language. It’s not about God tricking the righteous.

    2 Thessalonians 2:9-12 — This is the clearest of all. The “strong delusion” is sent to those who refused to love the truth. They delighted in unrighteousness. They weren’t victims of confusion. They cherished the lie. God lets them have what they wanted.

    So, Does God Deceive?

    No, not in the moral sense. God does not lie. He is not a trickster. He is holy.

    Yes, in the judicial sense. God can give people over to deception as judgment when they harden their hearts against the truth.

    When we encounter hard passages, we don’t accuse God of moral failure. We don’t soften Scripture. We tremble. We slow down. We let the whole Bible speak.

    “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD…” — Isaiah 55:8–9

    That verse doesn’t tell us to shut off our brains. It tells us to stop pretending we’re the judge and God is on trial.

    A Final Word of Encouragement

    To the one who wants to walk in the light but feels how deep the old patterns go: God gives help.

    “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not…” — James 1:5

    Ask Him for wisdom. Ask Him for a hatred of lies that goes deeper than performance. Ask Him to make you a man who tells the truth even when it costs, because a lie always costs more than it pays.

    “Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding…” — Proverbs 3:5–6

    Stay humble. Some of us have lived so long in deception that we don’t even recognize how twisted our instincts have become. But Scripture says the Holy Ghost is the Spirit of truth. As we repent, the light gets brighter. The excuses lose their grip. The lies start to sound like what they really are.

    That is not condemnation. That is God restoring your senses.

    Here’s the line I’ll leave with you:

    If we will not love truth, we will eventually love a lie.

    But if we will love the truth, God will make us free.

    And He will teach our mouths to stop betraying our own souls.

  • Overcoming Without Performing

    Overcoming Without Performing

    Revelation 12:11

    I need to start with a confession: I can quietly turn something holy into something about me. I can talk about fruit and start measuring people. I can tell my testimony and somehow make it a platform. And if I can do that, so can you. The heart is slick like that.

    That’s why this verse needs care, not because it’s fragile, but because we are:

    “And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death.” — Revelation 12:11

    There’s an order here that protects us.
    Blood first. Testimony second. Cost third.

    Keep the order, and you get worship and endurance. Scramble it, and you get fear, performance, or Pharisees.

    1. “By the blood of the Lamb”

    Revelation 12 is not a feel-good chapter. It’s a war chapter. The enemy is “the accuser,” pressing charges against the saints day and night. And this verse tells us how his accusations are silenced:

    Not by cleaning up our image.
    Not by crafting a story that sounds good.
    Not by pretending we’ve never struggled.
    But by the blood of the Lamb.

    Victory starts outside of us, with what Jesus did. When Satan accuses, he’s often pointing at real sin. But here’s the difference for the believer: our sin has been answered. Not excused. Answered.

    That’s why Paul can say we’re justified “without the deeds of the law” (Romans 3:28), and that there’s “no condemnation” for those in Christ (Romans 8:1). Condemnation is a sentence. Conviction is mercy.

    Miss this and you’ll start hustling for peace. You’ll treat obedience like a payment plan, hoping God will finally relax His face toward you.

    That’s not Christianity.
    That’s slavery with church clothes on.

    Blood first keeps Christ at the center. Always.

    2. “By the word of their testimony”

    Testimony isn’t the engine. The blood is. Testimony is witness, allegiance. It says: Jesus is Lord. His cross is enough. I belong to Him.

    When I was 14, I heard a girl stand up at a conference and say she had never done drugs or touched alcohol, had saved herself for marriage, and stood in awe of God’s keeping power. I already had a list of regrets, and I remember thinking: I wish that was my testimony.

    Now I know better.

    That was a strong testimony.
    Being kept is not a lesser miracle than being rescued.
    Sometimes the loudest grace is restraint.

    Our culture glorifies dramatic turnarounds, but that can quietly train us to think darkness makes a testimony powerful. It doesn’t. Jesus does.

    Sin doesn’t add shine. Sin kills. Grace raises the dead.

    A safe testimony always does two things:

    • It makes sin look deadly.
    • It makes Christ look precious.

    3. “They loved not their lives unto the death”

    This is not drama. It’s faithfulness.

    These believers didn’t overcome because they had impressive stories. They overcame because they belonged to Jesus more than they belonged to comfort. They would rather obey than negotiate. Rather lose reputation than lose Christ.

    This keeps the gospel from becoming self-help. Christianity doesn’t put us at the center, it moves the center to Jesus.

    Jesus said:

    “Without me ye can do nothing.” — John 15:5

    Fruit doesn’t create life. It reveals life.
    Obedience doesn’t earn love. It responds to it.
    Works don’t justify. They testify.

    But this doesn’t mean struggle = fake. Tender consciences panic when they hear “fruit” and think their weakness means they aren’t real. But the man who fights sin, confesses, repents, and comes back into the light, that’s life. Hypocrisy hides. Repentance agrees with God.

    The solution isn’t willpower. It’s surrender.

    “Search me, O God.” — Psalm 139:23
    Not performance. Just honesty.

    We don’t examine ourselves to see if God will love us. We examine ourselves because He already has.

    Grace first. Then fruit.
    Teach fruit without grace and you get fear.
    Teach grace without fruit and you get confusion.
    Scripture refuses both.

    My Story (Briefly)

    I lived double-minded. I wanted God, but on my terms. I knew Scripture well enough to be haunted by it, and still resisted surrender.

    Eventually, I ran to the end of myself. 

    Some of us were retrieved from ditches. Some were kept from them.
    Same blood. Same Savior. Same grace.

    The goal isn’t an impressive story.
    It’s a faithful life.

    We overcome:

    • By the blood of the Lamb — not spiritual hustle.
    • By the word of our testimony — not a curated image.
    • By loving Jesus more than comfort — not self-protection.

    Keep the order, and we won’t produce Pharisees or fearful strivers.
    We’ll produce people who are grateful, steady, and free.
    People who obey because they’ve been bought.
    Who tells the truth because the Lamb is worthy.
    Who keep walking when it costs them, because they’ve already found the only treasure worth losing everything for.

    If you want to know more about Jesus, find a gospel-preaching church. One that talks about sin, repentance, and the cross, not just comfort or behavior tips. The real gospel doesn’t flatter us. It saves us.

    “I am with thee… to save thee.” — Jeremiah 30:11

    Let the gospel tell the truth about your sin, then lift your eyes to a real Savior, a bloody cross, an empty tomb, and a King who is worth your whole life.

  • Is God the Author of Evil?

    Is God the Author of Evil?

    Three and a half years ago, I was a few miles from a beach in Florida, and I had a plan to end my life. I had wrecked my world. My choices, my disobedience, the pain I inflicted and endured, all came crashing down. My mind was exhausted from chasing my own will while pretending to follow God. I stood in the darkest hour of my soul.

    Under the Baker Act in Florida, while held in a facility, a chaplain spoke words that pierced through the stone I had wrapped around my heart. He said something like this: “I can pull a pocket knife out and cut my hand wide open. It will bleed, it will hurt, but with some attention and healing, it will recover. God made your heart the same way. He can heal you, if you let Him.”

    I went back to my brother and sister-in-law’s house and did something I hadn’t done before. I truly prayed. I opened the Word and devoured it. I stopped running from truth and started running toward it. I got honest, brutally honest, about who I was and what I had done. And I found that God was not waiting to condemn me. He was waiting to heal me. Not perfectly. Not instantly. But truly.

    Healing began. My life did not become flawless. But it did become honest. I joined a men’s group. I stopped pretending. I went to work knowing God’s word and studying through seminary and on my own. And now, looking back, I see God’s hand. Not only does it save me from eternal separation, but it also delivers me from the dominion of sin in the present. If He could rescue me, chief among sinners, He can rescue anyone.

    I worked in sales much of the time I was surrendering my life, and I could not lie anymore. I would rather lose the deal than lose my soul. I couldn’t be taught to call anyone and say, “I have someone who would like to buy your house or car to coerce someone to come and deal with me. That was a lie. God wouldn’t bless that. If you’re in a place where you can sell without lying, God bless. But if you’re in a place where that’s needed, I am happy to say, not sorry, you’re going to need a new job.

    But as I began to grow, questions came that had been there all along. Hard ones. Ones I had avoided. Ones I had thrown at God like accusations for years. The kind that start like this:

    If God is sovereign, and evil exists, doesn’t that make God the author of evil?

    And Scripture does not flinch from the tension. It invites us into it.

    “Out of the mouth of the most High proceedeth not evil and good?”

    — Lamentations 3:38 (KJV)

    “If so be they will hearken… that I may repent me of the evil, which I purpose to do unto them…”

    — Jeremiah 26:3 (KJV)

    “Wherefore I gave them also statutes that were not good… that I might make them desolate…”

    — Ezekiel 20:25–26 (KJV)

    “The evil spirit from God came upon Saul…”

    — 1 Samuel 18:10 (KJV)

    These verses raise hard, honest questions. And maybe it is time we stop being afraid to ask them.

    The first truth we have to settle is this: God is sovereign, but that does not mean He is morally guilty.

    God reigns. He rules. Nothing happens outside His authority. He does not wait for human permission to act.

    “He doeth according to his will… and none can stay his hand.”

    — Daniel 4:35 (KJV)

    But this does not mean He sins. Scripture is clear:

    “God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man.”

    — James 1:13 (KJV)

    “In him is no darkness at all.”

    — 1 John 1:5 (KJV)

    So how do we hold both truths, that God is in control, and that God is holy?

    We learn to distinguish between God’s ruling will and God’s moral will. God allows and governs even evil events in His plan. But He never commands sin, commits sin, or delights in wickedness.

    If we are not careful, we will either accuse God of doing evil or we will shrink Him down until He feels safe. Both errors lead to false gods.

    What Does “Evil” Mean in These Verses?

    When Lamentations and Isaiah say that God creates “evil,” they are speaking of calamity, disaster, judgment, not moral wickedness.

    “I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things.”

    — Isaiah 45:7 (KJV)

    This language is not soft. It is specific. When judgment comes, when nations fall, idols topple, and calamity strikes, God is not absent. He is not watching from afar. He is present, just, and at work.

    We want a God who stops pain, but not a God who confronts pride. We want comfort without correction. But the God of the Bible will not be edited. He breaks what must be broken so He can heal what must be healed.

    What About Ezekiel? Did God Command Evil Laws?

    No. Ezekiel 20 describes judgment on a people who rejected God’s good commands. The passage itself says it plainly:

    “Wherefore I gave them also statutes that were not good, and judgments whereby they should not live;

    And I polluted them in their own gifts… that I might make them desolate, to the end that they might know that I am the LORD.”

    — Ezekiel 20:25–26 (KJV)

    Here is what that means in plain speech. There is a form of judgment where God removes restraint and gives people over to what they insisted on. That is not divine approval. That is divine consequence.

    God’s restraint is mercy. When He removes it, it is judgment.

    What About Saul? Did God Send an Evil Spirit?

    Yes, but again, not how we tend to hear it. Saul had rejected God, refused correction, and grieved the Spirit. God removed His hand of favor, and Saul came under torment.

    The phrase “evil spirit from God” means that even spiritual darkness is under God’s authority. He ruled over it, appointed it in judgment, and restrained it according to His purpose.

    This was not God being evil. This was God being Judge.

    Just as in the book of Job, the enemy could only go as far as God allowed, and no further.

    God Governs and Overrules Evil Without Committing Evil

    This is the key truth. God can govern evil men and evil events without being evil Himself. He can overrule what men mean for destruction, and turn it into what serves His holy purpose.

    Look at the cross.

    “Him… ye have taken, and by wicked hands have crucified and slain.”

    — Acts 2:23 (KJV)

    The crucifixion of Jesus was the most wicked act in history, and yet it was also God’s determined plan to save sinners.

    Or look at Joseph’s story:

    “Ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good.”

    — Genesis 50:20 (KJV)

    This is not a contradiction. It is sovereignty. It is holiness. It is God turning the knife of man into the scalpel of mercy.

    No, God Is Not the Author of Evil

    God is not the author of sin. He is not morally guilty. He does not tempt or delight in wickedness. But He is so sovereign that even evil cannot outrun His leash, and so holy that even His judgments are just, even when severe.

    And this puts a decision in front of each of us.

    Will we keep putting God on trial, demanding answers on our terms, or will we bow before Him and let Him rescue us?

    Because the same holy God who judges sin is the God who steps into our ruin to save us.

    When I thought I was free, I was a slave. When I lost everything, I found mercy. God met me in judgment, but He did not leave me there. He healed me. He reclaimed me.

    “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.”

    — Psalm 51:17 (KJV)

    He is not safe. But He is good. He breaks and binds up. He wounds and heals. He reigns, and He redeems.

    “Now unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen.”

    — 1 Timothy 1:17 (KJV)

    I have to land it right here. If God is only allowed to be “good” when life is comfortable, then we are not worshiping the God of the Bible; we are worshiping a god we can manage. But the Lord is not on trial. He is King. He is holy. He is patient. He is also Judge. And the same hand that rules the storm is the hand that was pierced to save sinners like me.

    So when evil shows up, we do not have to call God guilty to be honest about the pain. We can call sin what it is, call judgment what it is, and still cling to the truth that God is not the author of evil; He is the Redeemer who overrules it. The cross proves it. The empty tomb guarantees it. One day, every dark thing will be answered, not with an explanation that makes us feel smart, but with a Savior who makes all things right.

    Until then, we stop negotiating, and we surrender. We stop blaming God, and we confess our sin. We stop demanding control, and we take refuge in Christ. If we get too big to kneel, we’ve already gotten too small to stand.

  • Christmas Isn’t Sentimental, It’s Supernatural

    Christmas Isn’t Sentimental, It’s Supernatural

    For years, Christmas for me got wrapped up in songs, shopping and Santa. It is easy to think of it as sentimental, nostalgic, or even routine and demanding. But if you stop and look at what the Bible says, we see something far stronger.

    Christmas is not sentimental. It is supernatural. It is not mainly about our traditions or memories. It is about God stepping into history exactly when and how he said he would. It is about promises made and promises kept. The birth of Jesus was not God reacting to a crisis. It was his plan from the beginning.

    From the Garden to the Manger

    Genesis 3:15 is the first time we see God speak of a coming Deliverer. Right after Adam and Eve sinned, before they were sent out of the garden, God made a promise. He told the serpent that the offspring of the woman would bruise his head, even as the serpent bruised his heel. That is not just flowery words. It is the first glimpse of Jesus and the beginning of a long line of promises pointing straight to him.

    “I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.” (Genesis 3:15 KJV)

    Notice three critical truths.
    The Deliverer will be human, offspring.
    He will come through the woman.
    He will defeat Satan, though at personal cost.

    Over time, God kept narrowing the focus.
    The Messiah would come from Abraham’s family, Genesis 12:3.
    Through Isaac, Genesis 17:19.
    Through Jacob, Genesis 28:14.
    Through the tribe of Judah, Genesis 49:10.
    Through the house of David, 2 Samuel 7:12–16.

    So when you read the genealogies that make most people’s minds wander in Matthew and Luke, they are not filler. They are proof. They are the receipts of the promise. Jesus did not just show up, He showed up in the exact family line God said he would.

    He Did Not Just Arrive. He Fulfilled.

    Multiple major Old Testament promises were already being fulfilled at the moment Jesus was born. These were not vague predictions. They were specific promises written long before, and they landed in real history.

    Here are just a few.
    Born of a virgin, Isaiah 7:14, fulfilled in Matthew 1:22–23.
    Born in Bethlehem, Micah 5:2, fulfilled in Luke 2:4–7.
    Called Immanuel, God with us, Isaiah 7:14, fulfilled in Matthew 1:22–23.
    Truly God with us in the flesh, John 1:14.
    Came through David’s line, 2 Samuel 7, traced in Matthew 1:1.
    Entered a world filled with sorrow and opposition, Jeremiah 31:15, fulfilled in Matthew 2:16–18.
    Fled to Egypt and returned, Hosea 11:1, fulfilled in Matthew 2:15.

    Even the silence between the Old and New Testaments was not meaningless. Four hundred years passed with no new prophetic revelation. But people were waiting, watching, hoping. And then, just like God said he would, he moved. Not with thunder, but with a child. Not with fireworks, but with angels proclaiming to shepherds in the night. Four hundred years of silence broke with the cry of a baby, Jesus.

    Galatians 4:4 says, “But when the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son.” (Gal. 4:4 KJV)

    Jesus did not come early, and he was not late. He came right on time. The birth of Christ did not just happen. It was fulfillment.

    This Was Never Random

    Everything about the way Jesus came was deliberate. He did not come to a royal family in a palace. He came through a young woman in a town many overlooked. He was born into real dust, real danger, real history. That is how God wrote the story.

    Why does that matter? Because it shows us something about who God is. He does not speak in generalities. He speaks in specifics. He gives promises and keeps them.

    Think about it. The odds of one person fulfilling even a handful of these prophecies by chance is astronomically small. As an illustration, Peter Stoner once estimated the probability at 1 in 100,000,000,000,000,000 for just a handful. It’s a provocative calculation, not our foundation, but it points to the God who speaks and then does what He said.

    Why It Matters Right Now

    This year might have left you tired. Maybe your prayers feel unanswered. Maybe your hope feels thin. Maybe you are going through the motions, singing songs while wondering if God still moves like he did back then, wondering if He will move in your life in the new year. I get it. It is a place I know well.

    Let the birth of Jesus remind you that God never forgets what he promises. He did not rush. He did not delay. He moved exactly when he meant to.

    And if he kept his word in Genesis, and again in Isaiah, and again in Micah, and again in Bethlehem, he will keep his word.

    Luke 24:44 says, “These are the words which I spoke unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things must be fulfilled, which were written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me.” (Luke 24:44 KJV)

    Jesus knew he was the fulfillment. The manger was not the beginning of the story. It was the moment the story stepped into the flesh.

    Christmas Is Not a Story. It Is a Statement.

    It is God saying, I have not forgotten you.
    It is God proving, I will do what I said.
    It is God showing up. Not because we earned it. Because we needed it.

    This is not nostalgia. This is the gospel. Jesus came with receipts. Born of a virgin. Born in Bethlehem. Born from David’s line. Born in the fullness of time. Every promise pointing to him. Every word fulfilled in him.

    And now he offers the same grace to you and me. He came into the world not to decorate it but to redeem it. He did not come just to inspire. He came to save. He did not come for perfect people. He came for real people who know they cannot save themselves.

    God loved this world enough to send His only Son so that anyone who trusts in Him will not be lost but will live forever.

    This Christmas, do not just remember the baby in the manger. Remember the God who keeps his word.
    He said he would come.
    And he did.

    If You Are Wondering Where to Start

    If you have never really trusted Jesus, maybe you have heard about him for years, or maybe this is all new, here is what matters. Jesus did not just come to be admired. He came to be followed. He came to save sinners and call people into a whole new kind of life. A life where your past does not get to define you and your future is no longer riding on your performance.

    The promises we just walked through are not just history. They are personal. They are still standing. The same Jesus who fulfilled prophecy and stepped into time is still calling people to follow him today. Not because you have it all figured out, but because he came to do what you could not and will not ever be able to. He lived the life you and I have not lived, died the death you and I deserve, and rose again so we could walk with him in grace.

    That invitation is open. All that is left is whether you will take it.

    So wherever this finds you, whether you are full of faith or just holding on, whether you have walked with Jesus for years or feel like you have walked away, let this Christmas remind you of one thing.

    God keeps his word.
    Jesus is the proof.
    And grace is still available.
    Merry Christmas. Christ has come. And he came for you.