Sunday Prayer: Awe and Gratitude

Gracious Father,

I come before You in awe and gratitude, for while I was still weak—lost in sin and far from You—Christ died for me. Not because I earned it, not because I was righteous, but because of Your overwhelming love and mercy. You sent Your Son to die for the ungodly, to rescue all of humankind when we could not rescue ourselves.

Thank You for the cross, for the blood that justifies me, and for the reconciliation I now have through Jesus. I rejoice that I am no longer Your enemy, but Your beloved child, brought near by the sacrifice of Christ. Help that truth sink deep into my heart and shape the way I live each day.

Help me to live in the joy of my salvation, to walk in the confidence of Your love, and to share the Gospel with a world still longing for hope. May I never take for granted the grace that saved me and the peace I now have with You through King Jesus.

In His mighty name I pray,

Amen.

Getting Out of the Dark

 “But somehow he was comforted. It was rather splendid to be wearing a blade made in Gondolin for the goblin-wars of which so many songs had sung; and also he had noticed that such weapons made a great impression on goblins that came upon them suddenly.

“’Go back?’ he thought. ‘No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do!’ So up he got, and trotted along with his little sword held in front of him and one hand feeling the wall, and his heart all of a patter and a pitter.”
— The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

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Bilbo Baggins was in over his head. Far from the warm glow of his hobbit hole in the Shire, he was lost in the shadowy depths of the Misty Mountains. His friends were nowhere to be found, and worse, goblins were on his trail. Alone in the dark, he faced a moment of reckoning.

As panic crept in, Bilbo’s hand brushed against the elvish dagger at his side—Sting, a weapon crafted for legendary wars. It wasn’t much, and he was no warrior, but holding it sparked something in him. That small glimmer of courage was enough to push him forward through the suffocating blackness.

Sound familiar? We all have those days—moments when life feels like a cave with no exit. The questions pile up: What now? Where do I turn? Who’s got my back? When everything feels uncertain and overwhelming, Bilbo’s story offers a surprising lifeline.

For Bilbo, Sting wasn’t just a blade—it was a symbol of hope, a tool that unsettled his enemies and steadied his nerves. But the Bible hands us something far sharper and more powerful:

“For the word of God is living and effective and sharper than any double-edged sword, penetrating as far as the separation of soul and spirit, joints and marrow. It is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.”
(Hebrews 4:12, CSB)

God’s Word cuts deeper than any weapon. It slices through confusion, exposes the enemy’s lies, and lights the way when we’re stumbling in the dark. The more we lean into Scripture—letting it sink into our minds and hearts—the stronger we become to face whatever’s ahead.

With Sting in hand, Bilbo weighed his options. Going back wasn’t possible; the goblins were behind him. Sideways? The cave walls said no. Forward was the only path, so he took it—one shaky step at a time.

The Apostle Paul had a similar mindset:

“Brothers and sisters, I don’t consider myself to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to what is ahead, I pursue as my goal the prize promised by God’s heavenly call in Christ Jesus.”
(Philippians 3:13-14, CSB)

Like Bilbo, we can’t rewind time. The past—whether it’s regrets or even a comfortable yesterday—can’t be our anchor. Clinging too hard to what was blinds us to what could be. The only way out is forward, trusting God’s lead.

So, if you find yourself in a dark place—lost, scared, or alone—don’t throw in the towel. Pick up your sword. Open the Bible and let its truth steady you. Then take that next step, wherever He points you.

Bilbo did it. You can too.

Shattered Dreams: Far Too Easily Pleased

Part 4 of 4 in the “Shattered Dreams” Series

“We are halfhearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
— C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

What does God dream for us? If His vision holds the key to true joy, don’t we owe it to ourselves to uncover it? Yet, when our own dreams lie in ruins, how do we even start to see His?

It’s hard to imagine the life God created us to live because, as C. S. Lewis points out, “we are far too easily pleased.”This idea stings because it’s true. We cling to our small, fragile plans—chasing comfort, approval, control—while God holds out something vast and unshakable. Our shattered dreams, painful as they are, might just be the crack that lets His light in.

God doesn’t give us a checklist to decode His will. He’s not a vending machine for truth. History proves He meets us uniquely—molding His call to our quirks and stories. Still, Scripture lights the way. In John 13–17, we find five traits of the life He envisions, a dream that emerges when ours fall apart.

1. Servanthood Over Status

“And since I, the Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done” (John 13:14–15, NLT).

Jesus, the Lord of all, took a towel and washed grimy feet. He doesn’t want random acts of kindness—He calls us to live as servants. We dream of being catered to; God dreams of us stooping low to lift others up.

2. Love as Our Witness

“So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my friends” (John 13:34–35, NLT).

Jesus poured love on everyone, but it burned brightest among His disciples. This love starts with the church—our care for each other marks us as His. We dream of being adored; God dreams of us loving fiercely first.

3. Rooted in Jesus

“Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5, NLT).

On our own, we’re weak—tripping over our flaws. Jesus says we can’t live God’s dream without Him. Prayer, Scripture, worship, and community tether us to Him, pulling our eyes off ourselves. We dream of self-reliance; God dreams of us abiding in Jesus.

4. Guided by the Spirit

“When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all truth. He will not be presenting his own ideas; he will be telling you what he has heard” (John 16:13, NLT).

Voices clamor—logic, trends, temptation. Jesus heard them too, rejecting Satan’s deals and the crowd’s crown. We lean toward what’s sensible; God dreams of us tuning our ears to His Spirit.

5. United in Purpose

“My prayer for all of them is that they will be one, just as you and I are one, Father—that just as you are in me, and I am in you, so they will be in us, and the world will believe you sent me” (John 17:21, NLT).

Jesus’s mission flowed from His oneness with the Father—a unity He prays for us. We’re not meant to be lone rangers. We dream of standing apart; God dreams of us woven together in love and mission.

Shattered dreams sting—no denying it. But as Lewis saw, we’re too easily pleased with mud pies when God offers the sea. That pain can wake us up, exposing the flimsiness of our plans and pointing us to His eternal vision. When we chase God’s dream, we find the joy we’ve been groping for in the dark. Our brokenness isn’t the end—it’s the beginning of something bigger.

What’s one piece of God’s dream stirring in you now that you want to experience? Drop your thoughts—I’d love to hear.

Lessons from the King: True Obedience

A Tale of Two Houses

A few years back, researchers in South Carolina built two identical houses in a lab to test them against hurricane-force winds. One was a standard build—nothing special. The other had reinforcement straps tying every level to its foundation. When they cranked the fans to 110 miles per hour, the standard house held up for a bit—until it didn’t. After ten minutes, it collapsed. The reinforced house? It stood strong, barely scratched. The engineer’s question stuck with me: “Which house would you rather be living in?”

That’s the question Jesus poses at the end of His Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 7:24-29. He’s been teaching us what it means to live as citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven—people who pray for God’s will to break into this world, not just for our own sake, but for His reign. And He wraps it up with a stark picture: two builders, two houses, one storm. The wise builder digs deep, anchoring his house on rock. The foolish one slaps his together on sand. The storm hits both, but only one stands. The difference? Obedience.

Wisdom in Action

Jesus says, “Everyone who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock” (v. 24). Notice that—it’s not just hearing; it’s doing. Wisdom, in the Bible, isn’t about being smart or collecting facts. It’s knowing God and living like it. The wise builder doesn’t just nod at Jesus’ teaching; he lives it. The foolish one? He hears the same words but shrugs—maybe he’s too busy, too distracted, or just doesn’t care. When the rains come, his house crashes down, “and great was the fall of it” (v. 27).

Storms Reveal the Foundation

Here’s what grabs me: both builders face the same storm. Jesus isn’t promising a storm-free life. The “rain and floods and winds” might be the big judgment day—His return—or the everyday trials we all hit: a health scare, a broken relationship, a financial mess. Either way, storms reveal what we’re built on. I’ve seen it in my own life—times I’ve coasted on good intentions or religious habits, only to wobble when pressure mounts. Build on sand—wealth, success, even churchy routines without real obedience—and it won’t hold. Build on the rock of Jesus’ words, lived out, and you’ll stand.

The Authority of the King

What floors me most is Jesus’ authority. The crowd was “astonished” because He taught “as one who had authority, and not as their scribes” (v. 29). The scribes leaned on tradition; Jesus spoke as the source of truth. When He says, “these words of mine,” He’s claiming His teaching is the bedrock—God’s own Word. That’s why obedience matters. It’s not about earning points; it’s about loyalty to our King.

Which House Are You In?

So, here’s my pondering for us today: Which house are we living in? It’s easy to hear Jesus’ words—read the Bible, listen to a sermon, agree with it all—but are we doing them? I’m challenged to examine my foundation. Am I just a hearer, or am I anchoring my life to Christ by obeying Him? Maybe you’re there too. If your foundation feels shaky, don’t panic—it’s not about perfection. It’s about intention. Start digging into His Word, ask the Spirit to guide you, and take one step to live it out.

A storm’s coming—maybe not today, but someday. Jesus doesn’t want us to admire His teaching; He wants us to build on it. As citizens of His Kingdom, let’s pledge our loyalty through obedience. Because when the winds blow, I want to be in the house that stands—don’t you?

A Prayer to Build on the Rock

Prayer: Lord, thank You for Jesus, our King. Give us wisdom to not just hear Your Word but do it. Help us build on the rock of His teaching, trusting You more than ourselves. Show us where we’ve settled for sand, and lead us deeper into obedience. Amen.

The headings—“A Tale of Two Houses,” “Wisdom in Action,” “Storms Reveal the Foundation,” “The Authority of the King,” “Which House Are You In?” and “A Prayer to Build on the Rock”—break the post into digestible chunks, guiding readers through the narrative and reflection. They align with the sermon’s flow while making it skimmable for blog readers. Let me know if you’d like any changes!

A Prayer for an Unshakable Foundation

Heavenly Father,

I come before You seeking wisdom and strength, inspired by the words of Your Son, Jesus, who taught the way of true stability. Grant me, O Lord, the grace to not only hear Your holy words but to act upon them with faith and obedience. May I be like the wise man who built his house upon the rock—steadfast and unshaken, even when the rains fall, the rivers rise, and the winds of life blow fiercely against me.

Protect me from the folly of building my life on shifting sand, where fleeting desires and empty promises lead only to ruin. Anchor me, I pray, on the solid foundation of Your truth, Your love, and Your eternal promises, so that no storm may topple me. Let my heart be open to Your teaching, delivered with divine authority, and may I stand in awe of Your wisdom as the crowds once did.

Guide me, Lord, to live wisely and faithfully, trusting in You as my unshakable rock.

In Jesus’ name, I pray,

Amen.

In God’s Image: Why Women Belong in Pastoral Ministry

It is difficult to imagine what the world was like before sin came and corrupted God’s good Creation. This good Creation was a world where God’s first word to humanity wasn’t division but harmony. In that world, leadership wasn’t a man’s prize to claim but a shared gift to use in taming, shaping, and stewarding God’s good Creation. That’s the world of Genesis 1—a world too many churches, theologians, and teachers have buried under layers of tradition and misread verses.

Today, in most conservative evangelical churches, women can’t stand in the pulpit and preach, offer counsel and instruction to both men and women, or make decisions about the direction of the church family. In this discussion, the same handful of Scriptures are cited, or centuries of male dominance are held up as THE example of how things should be.

The Bible provides a bolder picture of male/female relationships and female leadership among God’s people. This picture is rooted in God’s creation of humanity, traced through prophets like Deborah and Huldah, and grows in the early church with women like Phoebe.

It is my belief that women belong in pastoral ministry—not as a modern compromise or the church going woke, but as God’s design from the beginning.

I want to briefly outline this truth as we see it in Scripture. This isn’t a rigorous defense of women in pastoral ministry; it’s a brief outline that allows me to share the thoughts swirling around in my mind.

Created to Co-Rule: Genesis 1:26-28

On page 1 of the Bible, we read that God declared:“Let us make man in our image, according to our likeness. They will rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, the livestock, the whole earth, and the creatures that crawl on the earth” (Genesis 1:26, CSB). Then, “God created man in his own image; he created him in the image of God; he created them male and female” (v. 27). And what was their responsibility? “God blessed them, and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, and subdue it. Rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, and every creature that crawls on the earth’” (v. 28).

Take a moment and meditate on what happened.

God doesn’t whisper this to Adam alone, leaving Eve as an afterthought. He blesses them—male and female—crafted equally in His image, tasked together to rule. God’s mandate to rule over Creation is given to both men and women as part of their identity. Both reflect God’s image and demonstrate His character—love, creativity, wisdom, authority—and both are given authority over creation. There’s no hierarchy here in God’s original design, no “he leads, she follows.” It’s co-rulership, pure and simple, a partnership mirroring the Trinity’s unity.

Then comes Genesis 3. Sin fractures this harmony, and “he will rule over you” (v. 16) falls like a shadow—a curse, not a calling. This is a different Hebrew word than the one used in Genesis 1:26 and 28. It’s the same word used in Genesis 1:18, explaining that the Sun and Moon rule over the day and night—the light of the Sun overpowering the darkness to make it day. That’s the key idea in Genesis 3:16: overpowering and domination. Male dominance isn’t God’s design; it’s the consequence of the Fall.

Genesis 3:16 can be translated a couple of ways. The Christian Standard Bible renders it: “Your desire will be for your husband, yet he will rule over you,” suggesting women desire a marriage relationship, but men hold the power. The New Living Translation offers: “And you will desire to control your husband, but he will rule over you,” implying a more antagonistic dynamic. 

I prefer the first option because I believe the biblical witness is one of men dominating women for their purposes rather than women rebelling against their husbands’ authority. Abraham and Hagar, Judah and Tamar, David and Bathsheba—these are examples of men taking advantage of women for their own selfish ends. Therefore, I believe the hierarchy model is more a product of the Fall and the Curse than God’s original design.

So it’s no surprise when Jesus comes and elevates the status of women—having women disciples and instructing them to be the first to carry the news of the resurrection. With that in mind, the Apostle Paul wrote these counter-cultural words: “There is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male and female; since you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28, CSB). Redemption restores Genesis 1’s vision—equality, not subjugation. If God entrusted women to co-rule the earth, why not co-lead His church and New Creation? To say otherwise is to cling to the Fall, not the Gospel.

Prophets of God: Deborah and Huldah

Now let’s travel through Israel’s history, where Genesis 1’s seed of co-rulership sprouts into action. Meet Deborah, a prophetess and judge in Judges 4-5, around 1200 BC. She didn’t just pray quietly in a corner—she led a nation. She was a Judge over Israel (Judges 4:5), leading not only the women but also the men. As a prophetess, she spoke God’s word with authority. When Canaan’s King Jabin oppressed Israel with 900 iron chariots, Deborah summoned Barak, the military commander, and delivered a divine directive:

She summoned Barak son of Abinoam from Kedesh in Naphtali and said to him, “Hasn’t the LORD, the God of Israel, commanded you, ‘Go, deploy the troops on Mount Tabor, and take with you ten thousand men from the Naphtalites and Zebulunites? Then I will lure Sisera commander of Jabin’s army, his chariots, and his infantry at the Wadi Kishon to fight against you, and I will hand him over to you’” (Judges 4:6-7, CSB).

Barak hesitated, begging her to join him. She did, prophesying a woman would claim the victory—and Jael did, driving a tent peg through Sisera’s skull (Judges 4:21). The result? Forty years of peace (Judges 5:31). Deborah’s song of triumph (Judges 5) still echoes, a testament to her leadership.

Was Deborah a fluke? No, she’s an example of the reality that women have a place in leadership among God’s people.

Then there’s Huldah, centuries later, around 622 BC. King Josiah’s men unearthed the lost Book of the Law in the temple—a crisis moment for Judah. Who did they seek? Not the famous prophets Jeremiah or Zephaniah, but Huldah, a prophetess (2 Kings 22:14). She lived in Jerusalem’s Second District, and when the high priest Hilkiah and royal officials knocked, she didn’t hide. She declared God’s judgment on Judah’s idolatry and mercy for Josiah’s repentance (2 Kings 22:15-20). Her words sparked a national revival, one of the Old Testament’s high points.

These women—Deborah and Huldah—weren’t sideline helpers. They taught God’s word, judged, and led God’s people, men included, with divine authority. Even in the Old Testament, a glimpse of Genesis 1’s co-rulership shines through.


Phoebe and Romans 16: The Early Church’s Witness

Jumping to the New Testament, the Spirit breathes Genesis 1’s equality into the church. Romans 16 is a treasure trove—a list of ministry giants, and women stand tall. Leading the pack is Phoebe. Paul writes, 

“I commend to you our sister Phoebe, who is a servant of the church in Cenchreae. So you should welcome her in the Lord in a manner worthy of the saints and assist her in whatever matter she may require your help. For indeed she has been a benefactor of many—and of me also” (Romans 16:1-2, CSB).

Let’s take a quick look at what’s going on here. “Deacon” (diakonos) isn’t a throwaway title. Paul uses it for himself (1 Corinthians 3:5), for Timothy (1 Timothy 4:6), and for deacons in Acts who preached and served (Acts 6:8-10). Phoebe was a minister in Cenchreae, Corinth’s eastern port—a hub of trade and religions. According to Craig Keener (IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament), the word “deacon” “probably corresponds to the chazan of the synagogue, who was in charge of the building.” She likely taught, cared for the poor, and served as a leader in the church that met at her house. “Benefactor” (prostatis) goes further—it means patron or protector, a role of influence. There’s a good chance she funded the church, hosted it, and housed Paul during his Corinthian mission. But her story doesn’t stop there.

Many scholars agree Phoebe carried Romans—Paul’s longest, deepest letter—to Rome, a 600-mile sea journey from Corinth. That’s a huge undertaking. Letters then weren’t just dropped off; couriers read and explained them. Imagine Phoebe standing before Rome’s scattered house churches, unrolling the scroll. She reads, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), teaching about justification by faith, the Spirit’s power (Romans 8), and the hope for Jew and Gentile. She was the first preacher to explain the theologically dense book of Romans, shaping a church that would shape the world.

Romans 16 doesn’t stop with her. Priscilla, often named before Aquila, taught Apollos, a gifted preacher, “the way of God more accurately” (Acts 18:26)—her theological understanding on display. Junia, with Andronicus, was “outstanding among the apostles” (Romans 16:7), likely planting churches and facing prison with Paul. Mary “worked very hard” (v. 6), Tryphena and Tryphosa “worked hard in the Lord” (v. 12), Persis too (v. 12)—the same Greek word (kopiō) Paul uses for his own ministry work. These women weren’t fetching water, making coffee, or just teaching kids; they were building the church, living out Genesis 1’s co-rulership in Christ’s body.

Facing the Critics

Skeptics of this egalitarian view wave 1 Timothy 2:12—“I do not permit a woman to teach or to assume authority over a man”—like a trump card, as if it explains away all that God has been doing. But context is king. Ephesus, where Timothy ministered, was a hotbed of false teaching (1 Timothy 1:3-7), possibly from uneducated women stirring trouble. Paul’s rule addressed a local problem, not a timeless ban—how else do we square it with Phoebe preaching Romans or Priscilla teaching Apollos?

Then there’s 1 Corinthians 14:34-35—“Women should remain silent in the churches.” Yet 1 Corinthians 11:5 assumes women pray and prophesy in worship. Again, it’s about curbing chaos, not silencing gifts. Now, it’s true tradition later locked women out, but Scripture’s arc—from Genesis to Romans—tells a freer story.

What about male headship in marriage (Ephesians 5:22-23)? This section is about what mutual submission looks like (Ephesians 5:21). In ancient household codes, the husband/father’s authority was assumed, not instructed—yet here, Paul explains God’s expectations for husbands, calling them to submit too. While “Husbands, love your wives” isn’t a surprising command to us, it was radical then; marriage was about family, not love. Just as Paul’s instructions to slave owners (Ephesians 6:9) helped pave the way for seeing slavery as evil, his call for husbands to love their wives should help restore equality in marriage. 

Genesis 1’s equality is the proper lens to view Scripture, not the Fall’s distortions.

Why It Matters Today

God doesn’t waste people’s talents. Women pastors bring preaching that stirs hearts, counseling that heals wounds, and leadership that reflects His image—just as Deborah, Huldah, and Phoebe did. They speak to half the church—women—with a voice men can’t replicate, tackling issues like abuse or motherhood with lived insight. In a culture crying for justice, their presence helps show the Gospel’s continued relevance.

I’m part of the Free Methodist Church, founded in 1860 by B.T. Roberts (along with his wife Ellen Stowe Roberts), rooted in Genesis 1’s equality and a passion for holiness. Women like Ida Gage and Blanche Stamp served as pastors, planting churches and spreading revival across America. Catherine Booth co-founded the Salvation Army, preaching salvation and service. Why stop that now? A church with women pastors isn’t weaker—it’s fuller, truer to God’s design.

A Call to the Church

Genesis 1:26-28 hands men and women the same crown—co-rulers in God’s world. Deborah used it, judging Israel with God’s voice. Huldah utilized it, sparking revival with His word. Phoebe carried it, delivering Romans to shape the faith. These aren’t side notes; they’re God’s declaration, shouting that women are able to lead His people. The Spirit falls on “sons and daughters” alike (Acts 2:17), and gifts don’t wear gender tags (1 Corinthians 12:7). So why do we make such a big deal about gender when it comes to church leadership? 

We need to stop quenching the Spirit, stop silencing half His servants. Picture a church where Deborah’s courage, Huldah’s wisdom, and Phoebe’s perseverance lead us to Christ. That’s not a dream—it’s God’s plan from Eden. Will we build it, or keep boxing out His daughters?

Shattered Dreams: When Life Doesn’t Turn Out As Planned

Part 3 of 4 in the "Shattered Dreams" Series

“When we want to be something other than the thing God wants us to be, we must be wanting what, in fact, will not make us happy.”
— C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

Rarely does life unfold according to our plans. More often, it pushes us into unexpected places—places we never intended to go and can’t escape. The dreams we once held slip away as we grapple with the reality before us.

Joseph, a man familiar with shattered dreams, comes to mind. While we often think of Joseph from the Old Testament—sold into slavery, falsely accused, and imprisoned—I want to shift our focus to another Joseph: the husband of Mary and earthly father of Jesus. Though often overshadowed by other figures in the Christmas story, Joseph’s journey reveals the pain of broken dreams and the beauty of God’s greater purpose.

In Matthew 1:19, we read:

“Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly” (NIV).

This brief description—“a righteous man”—tells us much about Joseph. To us, righteousness might mean morality or religiosity, a good person striving to live out their faith. But for a Jew of Joseph’s time, it meant something deeper: a love for the Torah, God’s Law. Joseph wasn’t a Pharisee or a scholar; he was an ordinary, hardworking man raised to honor and study the Law. His righteousness positioned him for respect in his community, perhaps even a future as an elder—a common dream for men in his culture.

But then came the shattering moment: his young fiancée, Mary, revealed she was pregnant. Joseph knew the child wasn’t his, and her claim of a divine conception likely sounded unbelievable. In his mind, there was only one conclusion—unfaithfulness. According to the Torah he loved, unfaithfulness warranted death by stoning. As a righteous man, Joseph could have demanded justice. Yet he didn’t.

The NIV translation suggests it was because of his righteousness that Joseph sought to divorce Mary quietly, sparing her public disgrace. But I propose a different reading: although he was righteous, he chose mercy. His devotion to the Law pulled him toward justice, but a greater force—love—held him back. Joseph loved Mary. Despite believing she had betrayed him, he couldn’t bear to see her suffer.

We know little about their relationship. Jewish betrothal was far more binding than a modern engagement, but how well they knew each other remains unclear. What’s certain is that Joseph had chosen to love Mary. As he prepared a home for them, he dreamed of their life together—the family they’d build, the future they’d share. Now, those dreams lay in ruins.

Quietly divorcing Mary would have preserved her life and allowed Joseph to salvage his reputation as a righteous man. Marrying her, however, would destroy it. In a small town like Nazareth, word of her pregnancy would spread. People would assume Joseph condoned her “sin” or was complicit in it. His business, his standing, his dream of being a respected Torah-lover—all would crumble.

Then God intervened. An angel appeared to Joseph, confirming Mary’s story and urging him to take her as his wife. This divine call demanded the very choice that would obliterate Joseph’s dreams. Why didn’t God send the angel sooner—perhaps the same night Gabriel visited Mary? Perhaps God wanted Joseph to wrestle with the cost. To marry Mary meant sacrificing his reputation, his livelihood, and his place in the community. It was a decision that required him to choose between his dreams and God’s will.

God’s dream for Joseph wasn’t a life of outward righteousness or communal respect. It was far greater: to raise and teach the Messiah. Joseph became Jesus’ primary example of love and integrity. Imagine the whispers he endured—about Mary’s supposed adultery, about Jesus not being his son. Imagine the struggle to find work as a “disgraced” man. Yet through it all, Joseph modeled love and obedience, even when it cost him everything. Jesus grew up watching this, learning from a father who chose God’s way over his own.

Joseph’s dreams shattered when Mary announced her pregnancy. Accepting God’s plan didn’t make his life easier—it brought hardship and scorn—but it made it better. Joseph traded a dream of reputation for an influence he couldn’t fully grasp in his lifetime. His impact on Jesus, and thus the world, echoes into eternity, though he likely never saw its fullness this side of heaven.

Our dreams, even the noble ones, can blind us to God’s purpose. When we cling to them, we miss the life we were created for. Like Joseph, we must let our dreams shatter to embrace God’s greater vision. Only then do we discover true fulfillment—not fully in this life, but certainly when King Jesus returns and makes everything right.

Stay tuned for Part 4 in the "Shattered Dreams" series as we continue exploring how God’s plan transforms our understanding of life and fulfillment.

Lessons from the King: Two Ways

Back in January of 2011, Jenny and I were engaged, and I began preaching my first series through the Sermon on the Mount up in Storm Lake, Iowa. I was eager to prepare well, so I bought a few books—some commentaries, and a couple of older works. One was John Wesley’s book on the Sermon on the Mount—Jenny was attending a Free Methodist Church, so I figured I’d better get to know Wesley a bit. Another was by a guy named Emmet Fox. I didn’t know who he was—just saw it was an older book with good reviews on Amazon, so I downloaded it to my new Kindle.

It didn’t take long to realize something was off. As I read Fox’s take, his teaching felt…self-focused. It wasn’t lining up with what Jesus was saying in the Sermon on the Mount. It was more about me than the Kingdom. So, I Googled him. Turns out, Emmet Fox was a New Thought leader—a philosophy that says if you just think the right thoughts, you can manifest your desires. That’s infiltrated everything in our culture—from self-help books to Oprah to even corners of Christianity.

Here’s the thing: I spotted that as false because it didn’t match what I’d been taught about following Jesus, how I practiced following Him, or what biblical scholars have said for centuries. That moment taught me something crucial—discernment isn’t optional for us as followers of Jesus. It’s what keeps us on the right path. This is the truth Jesus teaches in Matthew 7:13-23. We need to be people of discernment.

Discernment Keeps Us on the Narrow Road

Through the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus teaches us what it means to live as Kingdom citizens—to see God’s will done on earth as in heaven. It’s not about us—our comfort, our dreams. It’s about God’s Kingdom and our loyalty to King Jesus. In Matthew 7:13-23, as He wraps up this sermon, He doesn’t give new rules. He gives a warning: without discernment, we’ll follow the wrong way.

Two Roads, One Choice (Matthew 7:13-14)

Jesus says, “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” When Matthew wrote this, Jerusalem’s destruction in 70 AD was still future. People thought the Kingdom would come through violence, power, and wealth—the wide road. But Jesus points to the narrow way: poor in spirit, meek, merciful, peacemakers.

For them, it wasn’t “hell vs. heaven” like we might read it today. It was “destruction vs. life”—the popular way or Jesus’ way. He wept over Jerusalem (Luke 19:41-44) because they missed it. Today, the warning’s for us, the church. Are we chasing power, comfort, wealth, or Jesus’ character and dependence on God? Ask yourself: Am I following Jesus’ vision for the Kingdom, or my desires with Him as a mascot?

Watch Out for Wolves (Matthew 7:15-20)

Then Jesus warns, “Watch out for false prophets… By their fruit you will recognize them.” Not false teachers—prophets. They claim to speak for God, with visions and dreams. They’re dangerous because they sound right—talking about the Father, Jesus, the Spirit—but lead us off the narrow road. In Jesus’ day, they might’ve preached rebellion and riches. Today, it could be prosperity or self-fulfillment dressed up as faith.

Test them, Jesus says. Don’t just swallow their words. Here’s how:

1. Be vigilant with anyone claiming to be a prophet—don’t lower your guard.
2. Compare their teaching to Scripture and wise counsel (that’s how I spotted Emmet Fox).
3. Look at their lives—deception or integrity? A false prophet can’t live the narrow way any more than a thistle can grow grapes.

The Sobering Truth (Matthew 7:21-23)

Jesus gets real: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father.” People will say, “Didn’t we prophesy? Perform miracles?” And He’ll reply, “I never knew you.” It’s not about words or wonders—it’s about a life reflecting the Beatitudes, a heart transformed by the Spirit, a relationship with the King.

You can think you’re on the narrow road and miss it. So evaluate: Are you following Jesus’ way or what feels right to you? To stay on track, do this daily: pledge allegiance to King Jesus and surrender to the Holy Spirit. That’s the path.

Living It Out

Matthew 7:13-23 isn’t just about salvation—it’s about whether we’ll follow God’s way as His people. Jesus warns us because He loves us too much to let us wander. The Kingdom isn’t popular or comfortable—it’s Jesus’ character, teaching, and reign. Test the voices you hear—Scripture and fruit, not feelings, are your guide. Test your heart, too.

The big idea is this: Citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven are discerning about what influences their live so they can remain on the narrow road of King Jesus. Discernment isn’t optional—it’s survival. Test the voices you listen to—weigh them against Scripture, watch how they live. But more than that, test your own heart. Pledge your allegiance to King Jesus. Surrender to the Spirit’s leading. That’s how we stay on the narrow road. That’s how we become citizens who don’t just pray “Your Kingdom come,” but live it out—right here, right now.

To paraphrase Dietrich Bonhoeffer from the book The Martyred Christian: “God’s will isn’t ours to control—it’s His grace, fresh daily. It’s not your gut feeling or a spiritual rule. God reveals His will only to those who seek it anew.” We don’t set the Kingdom’s path—that’s the King’s job. Follow Jesus. Use His words in these chapters to weigh everything. That’s the narrow road of King Jesus.

A Prayer for the Journey

Take a moment. Thank God for Jesus and His Kingdom. Ask for wisdom to live as a good citizen. Surrender to the Spirit. If God’s nudging you to follow Jesus more closely, don’t wait—reach out to someone today. Let’s pray: “God, thank You for Jesus. Give us wisdom to follow Your way. We surrender to Your Spirit. Keep us on the narrow road. Amen.”

Sunday Prayer: Guide Me on the Narrow Way

Heavenly Father,

I come before You seeking the narrow gate, the difficult road that leads to life. Guide me, Lord, away from the broad paths of destruction, and help me to find the way that few discover—Your way of truth and righteousness. Grant me wisdom and strength to walk this path with faith and perseverance.

Lord, I ask for discernment to guard against false prophets who disguise themselves as Your servants but seek to lead me astray. Open my eyes to recognize them by their fruit, just as a tree is known by what it bears. May I not be deceived by appearances, but test all things against Your holy Word.

Father, cultivate in me a heart like a good tree, rooted in Your love, producing fruit that honors You—fruit of kindness, truth, and righteousness. Prune away anything within me that bears thorns or thistles, that I might not be counted among those cut down and cast aside.

I pray for those lost on the wide road, that they too might turn and seek the narrow gate. Use me, Lord, as a bearer of Your light, reflecting Your goodness in all I do, so others may see and glorify You.

In Jesus’ name, I pray,
Amen.

The True Weight of Words: A Proper Understanding of Proverbs 18:21

 

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit.” — Proverbs 18:21 (CSB)

It’s a striking verse—one that’s rung through centuries of sermons and conversations, and more recently, been picked up by teachers who claim our words can shape reality itself. Speak health, they say, and you’ll be healed. Declare wealth, and prosperity will follow. Confess negativity, and calamity’s at your door.

It’s an appealing thought: the tongue as a tool of creation, a spiritual switch to flip blessings on. But is that really what Proverbs 18:21 means? I don’t think so—and here’s why.

Our Words Are Not Magic

Some teachers latch onto this proverb like it’s a promise of power. They frame it as a cause-and-effect system: say the right words, muster enough faith, and reality bends to your will. It’s a theology of control, where you play a little god, mimicking Genesis 1’s “And God said” to summon your desires into being.

On the surface, it’s tempting. Who wouldn’t want to talk their dreams into existence? But dig into the text and the broader biblical story, and this idea starts to unravel.

A Closer Look at Proverbs

Proverbs is part of Israel’s wisdom literature, a book of short, memorable sayings designed to give God’s people the godly knowledge they need to live well in His world. These aren’t universal promises but general truths—guidelines that say, “Live this way, and this is the likely outcome.”

In Proverbs 18:21, the “tongue” isn’t a magic wand—it’s a symbol of speech, a human gift with real influence. “Death and life” aren’t always literal (though they can be in extreme cases); more often, they point to the power of words to build up or tear down.

A kind word can breathe life into a broken heart or anxious soul; a cruel one can stab like a dagger. “Those who love it will eat its fruit” isn’t a reward for positive thinking—it’s a warning and a promise: your words carry consequences, and you’ll live with them.

Think about it. Gossip can shatter a friendship. Encouragement can spur someone onward. Lies unravel trust; truth mends it. That’s the “fruit”—the natural, relational, moral outcomes of what we say. Proverbs isn’t offering a cheat code for life; it’s calling us to responsibility.

Don’t Miss the Mark

To get Proverbs right, we have to remember they’re generally true, pointing us in the right direction—not ironclad guarantees. Some misunderstand Proverbs 18:21 by assuming words don’t just influence—they create. But that’s not what the text says. It’s not about speaking things into existence like God does—it’s about navigating life wisely.

Scripture reserves ultimate power over life and death for God alone (Deuteronomy 32:39, Psalm 90:3). James 3 echoes this, calling the tongue a “small fire” that can blaze out of control—potent and dangerous, but not a divine command center.

Historically, Proverbs was written for a community seeking to live as God’s holy people, not for individuals trying to manipulate their circumstances. Twisting it into a promise of godlike power reflects a modern, New Thought lens—not the ancient Israelite wisdom it’s rooted in.

Saying “I am healed” might boost your mood, but it won’t rewrite your DNA. Declaring “I am rich” won’t pad your wallet—though it might wear out your friends’ patience.

The Real Power of the Tongue

So what does Proverbs 18:21 mean? It’s a call to mindfulness. Your words matter—not because they rule the universe, but because they shape the hearts and minds of people, yourself included.

I still carry words spoken to me decades ago—some that lifted me up, others that cut deep. Make no mistake: how we speak is a moral act, a reflection of our hearts (Matthew 12:34).

Speak life—truth, kindness, hope—and you’ll see the fruit of stronger bonds and a clearer conscience. Speak death—bitterness, deceit, rage—and you’ll reap isolation and regret. It’s not magic; it’s cause and effect in the messy, beautiful reality of human life.

That’s the wisdom this proverb offers God’s people. It’s not about mastering a spiritual trick; it’s about stewarding the gift of speech. The tongue’s power isn’t in forcing reality to our will—it’s in aligning our words with God’s truth and love.

A Better Way Forward

If you’ve bought into the idea that words can conjure miracles, my take might feel like a letdown. No more speaking your way to success?

But here’s the freedom: you’re not chained to chasing the perfect phrase, wondering why the “fruit” doesn’t match your expectations. Instead, you can focus on what’s real—using your words to reflect grace, to heal rather than harm, to point to King Jesus, the One who truly holds power over life and death.

Proverbs 18:21 isn’t a blank check for our wishes. It’s a mirror for our hearts and a guide for our mouths. Let’s use it wisely.

Shattered Dreams: The Megaphone of Pain

Part 2 of 4 in the "Shattered Dreams" Series

“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”
~ C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

Shattered dreams cut deep. The collapse of a marriage, the loss of a cherished job, the forced move from a beloved home, or the sting of rejection from someone you love—these aren’t just setbacks. They’re wounds that pierce the heart. When our dreams break apart, we feel the ache in our bones.

We despise pain, don’t we? Whether it’s physical or emotional, it’s an unwelcome guest—throbbing, relentless, impossible to ignore. We might escape it for a fleeting moment, but it always creeps back. Life, we tell ourselves, would be better without it. Yet pain isn’t just an intruder; it’s a signal.

Consider Ashlyn Blocker, now a young adult living with a rare condition called CIPA (congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis). As a child, she couldn’t feel pain—she once ran on a fractured ankle for days without noticing, and her parents found her with bloody lips from teething, unaware of the damage. Now in her twenties, Ashlyn still faces the challenges of a life without pain’s warnings. She might burn herself on a hot stove or miss a serious injury, relying on others to spot the danger.

Pain, as harsh as it is, alerts us when something’s wrong. Without it, we’d miss the cues that our bodies—or our lives—need attention.

Pain as a Signal

Emotional pain works the same way. It screams that things aren’t as they should be. We live in a broken world, where sin and death guarantee pain as a companion. It’s a reminder we’re not in Heaven yet.

And here’s the twist: God uses that pain to wake us up. C.S. Lewis called it His megaphone, a loud call to look beyond our own plans. We get so fixated on our dreams—our perfect job, our ideal family—that we miss the life God envisions for us. Pain, messy as it is, pulls our eyes upward.

But let’s be honest: understanding pain’s purpose doesn’t make it easier to bear. When agony hits, we wonder why a loving God stays silent. If we saw someone we loved hurting, we’d rush to fix it. God could erase our pain—yet often He doesn’t. That silence stings. Does He even get it? Does He know the loneliness, the sorrow, the weight of a shattered dream?

The God Who Understands

He does. Jesus proves it. The Son of God didn’t float above pain—He walked through it. Rejection by His own people, brutal beatings, the agony of the cross—Jesus felt it all. And God the Father? He endured the gut-wrenching tear in the Trinity’s fellowship as Jesus bore our sin. The cross isn’t just a story of redemption; it’s a loud declaration that God understands suffering.

Still, in our pain, God can feel distant. That’s when we need to cling to what Jesus shows us: God cares. Without that truth, the weight of broken dreams crushes us. With it, we can endure more than we ever imagined—just look at the countless Christians through history who faced persecution and martyrdom, sustained by certainty in God’s love.

Shattered dreams don’t mean God’s abandoned us. They’re a chance to see how fragile our plans are—and how much greater His are. Pain isn’t evidence of God’s indifference; it’s a sign this world isn’t our final home.

So, if your dreams lie in pieces today, listen through the hurt. God’s shouting something worth hearing.

Next time, we’ll explore how to grieve what’s lost while reaching for what’s ahead.

For now, what’s one way pain has redirected your focus? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

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Stay tuned for Part 3 in the "Shattered Dreams" series as we continue exploring how God’s plan transforms our understanding of life and fulfillment.