When Productivity Becomes Identity

On Saturdays, I like to watch space documentaries with my daughter. She once told me she wanted to be an astronaut, and since then I’ve found ways to sneak in my own love for space and astrophysics… partly because I enjoy it, and partly because it gives us time together.

But there were moments when I would get up to run errands, and every time I stood, she would ask, “Are you going to work?” Eventually, the question became simpler and harder to ignore: “Do you have to work today?”

That question lingered. Not because I was always leaving, but because I began to realize something more uncomfortable. There were times when I was home with my family and still working. A laptop open here. A phone in hand there. Work hadn’t just followed me home, it had quietly taken up residence. Somewhere along the way, productivity had become more than something I did. It had begun to shape how present I was—and how I understood my role, even in the moments that were supposed to be set apart.

There is a subtle moment many of us recognize, even if we rarely name it—the moment when “being busy” stops describing what we do and starts describing who we are.

It often shows up in ordinary ways. A conversation that begins with, “I’ve just been slammed lately.” A sense of guilt when rest feels unearned. A quiet anxiety when productivity slows and we are left alone with ourselves. None of these moments feel dramatic. But together, they tell a story about how worth is being measured. In a culture that prizes output, productivity can easily become more than a tool. It becomes a signal. A shorthand for value. A way of proving, to ourselves and to others, that we matter.  

The problem is not work. The problem is what happens when work is asked to carry more weight than it was ever meant to bear.

When productivity defines worth, purpose begins to shrink. Instead of asking what kind of life we are being formed into, we begin asking how efficiently we can perform. Instead of measuring growth by wisdom, character, or depth, we measure it by speed, scale, and results. The question quietly shifts from "Who am I becoming?” to “Am I doing enough?”

This shift rarely happens by choice. It happens by absorption.

We live inside systems that reward constant availability, visible output, and measurable success. Over time, those external rewards become internalized. What begins as a healthy desire to contribute slowly turns into a fear of falling behind. Rest starts to feel irresponsible. Limits feel like weakness. And purpose, once rooted in meaning and calling, gets reduced to performance. The cost of this shift is not always immediate, but it is real.

When productivity becomes identity, exhaustion is no longer a warning sign; it becomes a badge of honor. Boundaries feel selfish. Stillness feels unproductive. And people who cannot keep pace because of illness, caregiving, age, or circumstance are left feeling invisible or inadequate.

There is an ancient story that helps name this dynamic without romanticizing it. When the people of Israel were enslaved in Egypt, their value was measured almost entirely by output. Their worth was calculated by the number of bricks they produced, day after day. When production slowed, punishment followed. They were not seen as people with limits, stories, or dignity, but as labor to be managed and maximized.

What makes that story enduring is not just the suffering it names, but the vision of humanity it exposes. Slavery reduced people to what they could produce. Freedom, in contrast, was not simply the absence of work, it was the restoration of identity. They were freed not to stop doing, but to become a people again.

The danger we face today is not identical, but it is instructive. Whenever productivity becomes the primary measure of worth, we drift toward a similar logic. We may be free in name, but we begin to live as though our value must be earned again and again… brick by brick.

Purpose grows when work is placed within a larger story that recognizes human limits, honors rest, and affirms worth that precedes achievement. It grows when we remember that our value is not exhausted by what we produce, and that our lives carry meaning even when output slows.

The invitation here is not to abandon work, but to reframe it.

To ask not only “What am I accomplishing?” but “What is this way of working doing to me?”
To notice where productivity has quietly become a measure of worth and where it might need to be gently released from that role.

So as you move through this week, consider sitting with this question:

When productivity slows, what remains true about my worth?

Purpose does not disappear when output decreases but our ability to see it might. And recovering that vision may be one of the most important forms of formation we can practice.

What Are We Actually Forming People For?

One of the things I have most enjoyed in my work with college students is watching them gain insight into their own strengths and weaknesses. This becomes especially tangible when we begin talking about what they can include on their resume.

Often, this conversation happens with seniors who are about to embark on what they call “real life”. Asking them to name what they are good at, and where they might still struggle, is always a mix of pride and uneasiness. Pride in how far they’ve come. Uneasiness about what comes next.

These moments are revealing. Not because students lack ability, but because they are standing at the edge of a system that has spent years preparing them to be ready, without always being clear about what that readiness is ultimately for.

We are eager to celebrate efficiency and preparedness. We want students to be marketable, employable, competitive. But what does it actually mean to be “ready for the world”? And do we ever pause long enough to ask what kind of people we are forming along the way?

In our schools, both K–12 and universities, we often measure success by how quickly students can leave the comfortable confines of the classroom and enter the workforce. But asking what we are preparing students for is not merely an educational question. It is a formation question.

Every system forms people, whether it means to or not.

Formation happens long before we ever call it that. It shows up in what we reward, what we rush, and what we overlook. When efficiency is celebrated above all else, we begin to form people who are highly skilled, but not always wise.

Skills matter. Competence matters. Readiness matters. Work itself is not the problem. But when formation stops there, something essential is missing. Wisdom asks not just how to do something, but why. Character asks not just can I, but should I. Rootedness asks not just am I ready, but who am I becoming?

A system focused solely on productivity forms people who know how to perform, but may struggle to pause. A system obsessed with competence forms people who can deliver results, but may lack the moral imagination to discern when those results come at a cost. A system that prioritizes readiness without rootedness forms people who can move quickly, but do not always know where they are going, or why.

This is not an argument against work. It is an argument for wholeness.

We were never meant to be formed only as workers. We were meant to be formed as human beings, capable of skill, yes, but also wisdom; capable of excellence, but also empathy; capable of readiness, but grounded in purpose.

As we begin this year, I want to leave you with a simple, but uncomfortable, question:

What is my work forming me into?

Take it a step further. Ask it of your schooling, past or present. Ask it of your church. Ask it of the leadership above and around you.

Because formation is happening whether we name it or not.

 The only real choice we have is whether we will be intentional about it.

Beyond Resolutions: Why Mindset Matters More Than Behavior

As the calendar turns and a new year approaches, many of us find ourselves making New Year’s resolutions. Eat better. Pray more. Read the Bible daily. Exercise. Save money. Be more patient. Be a better husband. Be a better dad. (Those last two are mine)

These goals are not bad. In fact, many of them are good and even God-honoring. But year after year, we see the same pattern: strong intentions in January, fading motivation by February, and quiet guilt by March.

Perhaps the problem isn’t our desire for change but how we’re approaching it.

What if lasting transformation doesn’t begin with behavior at all?
 What if it begins with mindset?

1. Focusing on the “What” Instead of the “Why”

Most resolutions focus on what we want to change, but rarely ask why.

“I want to pray more.”
 “I want to stop procrastinating.”
 “I want to be more disciplined.”

But without addressing the deeper motivations, these goals often become shallow commitments rather than meaningful transformation.

Scripture consistently points us inward before outward change.

“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”
 — Proverbs 4:23 (NIV)

When we skip the “why,” we risk treating symptoms rather than roots. True growth happens when we ask reflective questions:

• Why do I want this change?

• What is God inviting me into?

• What deeper fear, desire, or belief is driving my behavior?

Jesus often challenged behavior, but He always addressed the heart first. Lasting change flows from internal alignment, not external pressure.

2. The Power of Identity and Beliefs

Many resolutions fail because they clash with how we see ourselves.

We say:

• “I want to live differently,”
   but believe,

• “This is just who I am.”

Scripture reminds us that transformation begins when we understand who we are in Christ.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
 — Romans 12:2 (NIV)

Notice Paul doesn’t say “renew your habits” first, but renew your mind.

Our beliefs shape our actions. If we believe we are failures, we will live cautiously. If we believe we are redeemed, we will live courageously.

“If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!”
 — 2 Corinthians 5:17 (NIV)

When identity shifts, behavior follows naturally. We don’t act differently to become new; we act differently because we are new.

3. The “All-or-Nothing” Trap

One missed day at the gym.
 One skipped devotional.
 One bad decision.

And suddenly the resolution feels broken beyond repair.

This “all-or-nothing” mindset creates shame instead of growth. And shame never produces lasting change… trust me, I know.

God’s economy works differently.

“Though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again.”
 — Proverbs 24:16 (NIV)

Spiritual maturity isn’t perfection; it’s persistence.

God is far more concerned with direction than flawlessness. Progress is often slow, nonlinear, and filled with grace-filled restarts.

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning.”
 — Lamentations 3:22–23 (NIV)

Every morning is a reset, not because we deserve it, but because God is faithful.

4. Over-Reliance on Willpower

Many resolutions quietly assume that if we just try harder, we’ll succeed.

But Scripture never places transformation solely on human effort.

“Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,” says the Lord Almighty.
 — Zechariah 4:6 (NIV)

Willpower is limited. Spirit-led transformation is sustaining.

When we depend solely on discipline, we burn out. When we depend on God’s grace, we are renewed.

“For it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.”
 — Philippians 2:13 (NIV)

Change is not something we muscle through. It’s something we partner with God in.

A Better Way Forward

As you look toward the new year, perhaps the invitation isn’t to make another list of resolutions but to cultivate a renewed mindset.

Instead of asking:

• “What should I fix?”

Try asking:

• “Who is God shaping me to become?”

Instead of chasing perfection, pursue formation.
Instead of behavior modification, seek heart transformation.
Instead of self-reliance, lean into the grace of God.

“Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion.”
 — Philippians 1:6 (NIV)

May this coming year not be marked by pressure to perform but by a deeper alignment of mind, heart, and identity in Christ.

Here’s to a new year—not just of resolutions, but of renewal.

Staying Open to God Leads to Unexpected Blessings

• This final lesson from my 2025 journey centers on something God has been whispering to me all year: stay open. When plans shift, when uncertainty rises, when the future feels unclear, remaining open to God’s direction can lead to blessings you never expected. I hope this reflection encourages you today.

If 2025 has taught me anything, it’s this: you don’t always have to know the plan in order to walk in God’s purpose.
This year was filled with twists I didn’t expect, transitions I didn’t plan, and blessings I never saw coming. And through all of it, God kept inviting me into one simple posture: Stay open.

Open to His timing.
Open to His redirection.
Open to His surprises.
Open to the future He is planning for me and my family.

Letting Go of the Illusion of Control

There were moments this year when I wanted answers and wanted them right now.
I wanted clarity. Certainty. Security.
But what God gave me instead was an invitation to trust Him even when the path wasn’t clear.
It wasn’t easy.
But it was freeing. 
In the midst of uncertainty: career shifts, family challenges, and unexpected transitions, God kept showing me that the future He writes is always better than the one I try to script for myself.

Blessings I Never Saw Coming

When I look back, several blessings stand out… blessings I never would have predicted:

• Opportunities to minister and serve in ways I didn’t anticipate

• New professional and personal connections that expanded my vision

• A deeper marriage formed through leading groups and navigating challenges together

• A sense of alignment with God’s calling that grew stronger as the year unfolded

None of these blessings came because I had everything figured out, actually quite the opposite.
They came because I kept my hands open.

The Power of an Open Heart

When you stay open to God’s direction, you begin to see possibilities you never noticed before.
You respond to opportunities with courage rather than fear.
You embrace change instead of resisting it.
You allow God to lead rather than trying to force your own path.
This year reminded me that God doesn’t need my full understanding but my full surrender.

The Lesson

Lesson 4 is this: Staying open to God’s future positions you for blessings you didn’t even know to pray for.
This year strengthened my trust, deepened my faith, and reminded me that God is always ahead of me by preparing opportunities, relationships, and breakthroughs that are already on the way.
And so, as I close out 2025, I do so with gratitude, hope, and open hands.

• Thank you for following along with these four life lessons from 2025. If you’ve found these reflections meaningful and want to cultivate growth, clarity, and spiritual leadership within your ministry or organization, I’d love to connect through SK Consulting. I offer leadership training, team development, and faith-based workshops designed to help churches and organizations navigate change with confidence. Feel free to reach out anytime. Here’s to a purposeful and faith-filled new year!

Community Is One of God’s Greatest Gifts

• As I continue sharing the four major lessons I learned this year, this week’s lesson focuses on something that shaped my life in unexpected ways in 2025: community and a reminder of how powerfully God uses people, relationships, and community to strengthen us. Through friendships, family, ministry, and relationships old and new, God reminded me that we were never meant to walk through life alone. Here is Lesson 3.

Lesson 3: The Gift of Community and the Strength Found in Others

If there’s one thing 2025 reminded me of over and over again, it’s this: we were never meant to do life alone.
This year stretched me in ways I didn’t anticipate: professionally, emotionally, and spiritually. We faced difficult health news in our family. I wrestled with uncertainty about my purpose. And for a moment, it felt like everything was happening all at once.

But in that same season, God surrounded me with people who held me up, encouraged me, prayed for me, and reminded me that the weight of life doesn’t have to be carried alone.

A Year Surrounded by People Who Matter

This year, God strengthened my community in three powerful ways:

1. My Marriage Grew Even Stronger

This year my wife and I celebrated 13 years of marriage, and it hit me how much she has been my anchor through every high and low.
From job loss to job transition… From family health challenges to moments of joy… She walked beside me.

We co-led two marriage small groups and a young adult small group in the summer. Those experiences deepened our relationship, not just with each other, but with the couples and young adults we served.

2. God Reconnected Old Relationships

Some friendships from my past resurfaced this year in meaningful ways. I was able to reconnect with former students who are leading at a high level in their fields.
Old friends reached out.
Conversations were restored.
Care and support returned when I least expected it.

I also took time to look back through old photo albums and reread words of encouragement from former students and colleagues in San Diego. It was a powerful reminder of how intentionally God placed certain people in my life, and how, in every season, what matters most are the relationships we build.

These weren’t random reconnections; they were reminders that God weaves people back into your life right when you need them.

3. Extended Family Became Another Source of Strength

This year, my brother and his family moved just a couple of hours away. Having family close again has been one of the greatest blessings of 2025. After living in this country for 25 years, I realized that I have only spent maybe two of those years living anywhere near my parents and siblings. Distance has been a familiar part of my story, so even a two-hour drive felt significant.

Their move brought back a sense of familiarity and steadiness I didn’t realize I had been missing. It restored moments of shared meals, spontaneous visits, and the quiet comfort of knowing family is within reach. More than anything, it reminded me of the kind of support, togetherness, and presence that family can offer—and how deeply those connections root us, especially as we step into new seasons of life.

Community Is a Form of God’s Provision

At times I prayed for strength, and God sent people.
At times I prayed for clarity, and God sent conversations.
At times I prayed for peace, and God sent support.
At times I prayed for help, and God sent community.

Community doesn’t remove every challenge, but it reshapes the experience of walking through it.

The Lesson: God often answers prayers through people.

This year reminded me that community is not a bonus, rather it’s a blessing.
It’s not optional but extremely essential.
And when you walk with the right people, storms feel lighter and victories feel sweeter.

• Thank you for reading this week’s lesson. If this message speaks to you and you’d like support in strengthening your ministry team, small groups, or organizational culture, I’d love to serve you through SK Consulting. I offer leadership development, team-building workshops, and training sessions designed to build healthier, more connected communities. Feel free to reach out anytime. Lesson 4 is coming next week!

God’s Provision Comes in Unexpected Forms

• As I continue sharing the four major life lessons I learned in 2025, this week’s reflection focuses on how God provides—often in ways far different from what we imagine. I pray this lesson encourages you to notice the unexpected blessings around you. Here is Lesson 2.

Lesson 2: When God Provides in Ways You Weren’t Expecting

If Lesson 1 taught me about God’s redirection, Lesson 2 taught me about God’s provision and how different it often looks from what we expect. When I lost my job early in 2025 and unemployment denied my claim, I assumed provision would come in one form: a new job quickly, a clear financial path, and a smooth next step. But God had something different in mind.

Provision Isn’t Always About Money

This year, God provided for me, my marriage, and my family in ways that didn’t always show up on a paycheck:

• I received a full-time job at my church, something I never anticipated but now deeply appreciate.

• My wife was promoted, giving our household more stability.

• My brother and his family moved to the same state, giving me community and family support I didn’t even know I needed.

• I reconnected with old friends, who brought laughter, wisdom, and strength.

• I built new professional connections with people in my field, opening doors I didn’t seek out.

None of those blessings came wrapped the way I imagined… but they came right on time.

God’s Provision Is Multi-Dimensional

Sometimes God provides:

• People instead of plans

• Support instead of solutions

• Opportunity instead of income

• Peace instead of predictability

Provision isn’t always financial. Sometimes it’s relational, emotional, spiritual, or structural.

Closed Doors Make Room for Better Ones

Losing the job I thought I needed made space for the job God knew I needed.

The denied unemployment pushed me to rely on Him instead of the system.

And the uncertainty created room for unexpected relationships and opportunities to flourish.

The Lesson: God’s provision doesn’t always look like the thing you prayed for.

Sometimes it looks like the thing you didn’t know you needed.

This year taught me to stop limiting God to one method of blessing. He can use jobs, people, moments, conversations, and even disappointment to provide exactly what you need for the season you’re in.

And that became Lesson 2 of 2025.

• Thank you for taking time to read this week’s lesson. If this message encouraged you and you’d like support in helping your ministry, team, or organization navigate change with clarity and confidence, I’d love to partner with you through SK Consulting. I offer leadership development, team trainings, and culturally responsive workshops designed to help people grow with purpose. Feel free to reach out anytime. Lesson 3 is coming next week!

Loss Isn’t the End, It’s God’s Redirection

• As we move through the final weeks of the year, I wanted to share four major life lessons I learned in 2025. Each one came through real experiences—some painful, some surprising, and some deeply encouraging. My hope is that these lessons will uplift you and remind you that God is always at work, even when life takes unexpected turns. Here is Lesson 1.

Lesson 1: When Loss Becomes God’s Redirection

In March, I never would have imagined that I’d be forced into one of the most difficult transitions of my life. Losing my job came out of nowhere. Worse than the financial uncertainty was the realization that my position, and the work I poured my heart into, didn’t seem to matter to the people who were supposed to value it. It stung. It felt personal. It felt unfair. And honestly, it was.

Then came another blow: unemployment denied. Not because I wasn’t eligible, but because I had “waited too long” to apply. In a moment when I desperately needed support, the system failed me. I felt like everything was collapsing at once.

But here’s the surprising thing: that season of loss became one of the greatest lessons of my year.

Loss Strips Away Illusions

Losing something you depend on reveals where you’ve placed your identity. For me, I realized I had subtly tied my worth to productivity, approval, and the opinions of people who didn’t see the full value of my work. When that rug was pulled from under me, God gently reminded me:

“Your identity is in Me, not in your title.”

Sometimes God allows a door to close so we stop settling for places that no longer honor us.

Redirection Often Looks Like Disruption

When you’re pushed out of a place, it can feel like punishment—but it’s often preparation. In my case, I didn’t land where I thought I would. Instead, God opened a door for me to work full time at my church.

It wasn’t the path I had planned.
It wasn’t even on my radar.
But it was exactly where God needed me to be.

Through that transition, I have found more purpose, peace, and alignment than I’ve had in years. What felt like rejection was actually divine redirection.

When Systems Fail, God Steps In

Unemployment said “no,” but God said, “Watch this.”
People said my job wasn’t valuable, but God said, “Your work matters to Me.”

When earthly support systems fall apart, it forces us to lean on the One who never fails. God’s provision didn’t come through the institution I expected—it came through purpose, relationships, unexpected opportunities, and favor that no employer can take away.

The Lesson: Loss is often the classroom where God teaches breakthrough.

Sometimes the blessing is not in what was taken away, but in what you’re being pushed toward.

If you’re walking through a season where it feels like everything is falling apart, I want this to encourage you: This isn’t the end. It may be the beginning of God’s redirection.
What feels like a setback is often the doorway to something you wouldn’t have chosen—but something God has prepared.

And that is the first lesson I learned in 2025.

• Thank you for reading and journeying with me through these reflections. If this lesson encouraged you, I’d love to help you bring growth, clarity, and spiritual development into your own leadership or ministry setting. Through SK Consulting, I provide workshops, coaching, and training that equip teams, leaders, and churches to navigate change with faith, purpose, and cultural insight. If you’d like to learn more or schedule a session, feel free to reach out—I’d be honored to partner with you. More lessons coming next week!

The Next Generation of Leaders: Raising Culturally Aware Disciples

We are raising a generation that will lead in a world far more interconnected than the one we grew up in. Boundaries are shrinking, cultures are mixing, and young leaders today must navigate complexity with wisdom, humility, and spiritual grounding. As mentors, pastors, educators, and parents, we are uniquely positioned to shape leaders who don’t just tolerate differences but honor them. Leaders who follow Jesus into every nation, every culture, and every conversation with grace and courage.

The World Our Kids Will Lead

Today’s emerging leaders are stepping into a world defined by global collaboration. Their classmates may speak three languages. Their coworkers may come from five different continents. Their future ministry, business, or service will likely involve diverse teams, cross-cultural communication, and global decision-making.

This means leadership development can’t only be about character, competence, and calling—it must also include cultural awareness and global fluency.

Cultural Awareness Is a Discipleship Issue

Intercultural competence is not just a professional skill; it is a spiritual one. Jesus consistently modeled a love that crossed borders. He welcomed the outsider, affirmed the marginalized, and taught His disciples to see people beyond stereotypes.

Raising culturally aware disciples means helping young leaders:

• Recognize and value cultural differences

• Practice empathy and active listening

• Avoid quick judgments and assumptions

• Honor the Imago Dei in every person

• Learn how culture shapes communication, conflict, and worldview

This is not “soft” leadership—it is biblical leadership.

Mentoring the Next Generation

Cultural fluency doesn’t happen automatically. It grows through intentional exposure, honest conversations, and guided reflection. Here are three practical ways to mentor young leaders:

1. Invite Them Into Cross-Cultural Experiences

Take them on mission trips, service projects, international festivals, or multicultural worship gatherings.
Let them see, hear, taste, and feel how big God's world really is.

Exposure builds perspective. Perspective builds maturity. Maturity builds leaders.

2. Teach Them to Ask Better Questions

Culturally aware leaders are curious, not assumptive. Train them to ask:

• “Help me understand…”

• “What’s important in your culture about…?”

• “How can I honor your background here?”

These questions communicate respect and build trust.

3. Model Humility and Teachability

Young leaders watch more than they listen.
Show them what it looks like to apologize, to learn, and to grow.

When you model humility, they begin to see cultural awareness as a lifestyle, not a one-time training.

A Leadership Future Shaped by the Great Commission

The next generation needs leaders who can cross cultures, build bridges, and create belonging. Leaders who understand the global context they serve in. Leaders who carry the love of Christ into every space, whether it’s a campus, a boardroom, a ministry, or a virtual international team.

Raising culturally aware disciples means preparing young leaders not just for today, but for the future God is calling them into.

If we want a generation capable of transforming the world, we must equip them to understand the world. This is our calling as mentors and disciple-makers: to raise leaders who are not only spiritually grounded but globally aware. The future belongs to those who can see through the eyes of others, love across differences, and lead with Christlike compassion. Let’s invest intentionally so that the next generation rises with wisdom, fluency, and a faith big enough for the whole world.

Climate Justice and Christian Responsibility: Beyond Stewardship

In recent years, the phrase climate change has moved from scientific journals to dinner tables, churches, and classrooms. Rising global temperatures, devastating wildfires, floods, and droughts have forced humanity to face the reality that creation is groaning (Romans 8:22). But as followers of Christ, our response to the environmental crisis cannot be reduced to simple “green living” or trendy activism. The call runs deeper; it’s about justice, love of neighbor, and obedience to the Creator.

From Stewardship to Responsibility

Christians often talk about stewardship as the belief that we are caretakers of God’s creation. It’s a beautiful and biblical truth, yet it can sometimes sound passive, as though we’re just maintaining a garden rather than repairing what’s been broken.

In Genesis 2:15, God placed Adam in the garden “to work it and take care of it.” This was a divine assignment, not just a casual suggestion. To care for creation means to actively protect, restore, and nurture it, not exploit it for short-term gain. The moment we neglect this role, creation suffers, and the people in it.

Climate Justice: Loving Our Neighbor in a Warming World

At its heart, climate change is not just an environmental issue, it’s a justice issue. The people most affected by floods, droughts, and rising sea levels are often those who contribute the least to the problem: the poor, the marginalized, and the global South.

In Micah 6:8, we are reminded of what the Lord requires: “To act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God.” Acting justly today means recognizing that creation care is also people care. When we reduce pollution, conserve energy, and advocate for sustainable policies, we are protecting vulnerable communities—those Jesus calls “the least of these” (Matthew 25:40).

A Personal Reflection

I have had the opportunity to live around some farmers (from Ghana to California to Ohio) and I have learned a few things about the land they work on to produce food. I remember visiting with a farmer friend a few years ago when they struggled to grow crops on the regular. The rainy season had become unpredictable. The land, once fertile and green, was dry and cracked. This friend told me that they pray for rain now in the same way others pray for bread. 

That moment struck me deeply. Climate change wasn’t a distant debate rather a lived reality for people made in the image of God. Creation care suddenly felt less like an environmental program and more like a gospel mandate.

Creation Groans, But Also Hopes

Romans 8:19–21 tells us that creation itself waits in eager expectation for redemption. That means the work we do, like planting trees, reducing waste, advocating for cleaner energy, educating our communities, participates in God’s redemptive plan. Our small acts of faithfulness echo the greater restoration Christ will bring.

Moving Forward: Practical Steps of Faithful Action

1. Reflect and Repent: Acknowledge where our lifestyles have contributed to waste or neglect of God’s world.

2. Reduce and Reuse: Practice simple things such as driving less, wasting less, and reusing more. Stewardship starts in the ordinary.

3. Advocate: Use your voice. Support policies and leaders who value sustainable, just environmental practices.

4. Educate and Empower: Teach others that creation care is discipleship, not distraction.

5. Pray: Pray for wisdom for leaders, healing for creation, and courage for the Church to lead by example.

Conclusion: The Gospel Is Big Enough for the Earth

God’s redemptive plan isn’t limited to human souls, it includes the whole of creation. The same Savior who reconciles us to the Father also promises to make all things new (Revelation 21:5). As Christians, we can’t stand by as the earth and our neighbors suffer. We are called to reflect Christ’s love in how we treat every part of His creation.

Caring for the planet isn’t political — it’s spiritual. It’s not about choosing sides — it’s about choosing obedience. When we move beyond stewardship into true responsibility, we embody the hope that the world so desperately needs.

From Diversity to Belonging: Why Intercultural Competence Is the Next Step

We’ve spent years talking about diversity. And rightly so. Representation matters. It’s a reflection of justice, equity, and progress. Many organizations and communities have made meaningful strides in ensuring that people from different races, ethnicities, genders, and nationalities finally have a seat at the table.

But here’s the question we must ask: Now that we’re sitting at the same table, do we truly understand each other?

The Limits of Representation

Diversity is a necessary first step, but it’s not the finish line. We can fill our workplaces, schools, and churches with people from all backgrounds and still miss connection. Representation without a relationship leads to frustration. It can even create environments where people feel present but not heard, included but not valued.

True belonging requires more than numbers or quotas; it requires understanding. It’s about creating spaces where people don’t just show up but show up as their authentic selves without fear of being misunderstood or dismissed.

The Missing Link: Intercultural Competence

The real challenge we face today isn’t a lack of diversity, instead, it’s a lack of intercultural competence.

Intercultural competence is the ability to engage across cultural differences with humility, empathy, and adaptability. It means learning to suspend judgment, to listen deeply, and to seek understanding before offering solutions. It’s not just about knowing that people are different. It’s about knowing how to connect amid those differences.

Without intercultural competence, diverse spaces can become tense spaces. Miscommunication, assumptions, and cultural blind spots can quietly erode trust. But with intercultural competence, diversity becomes a bridge to belonging.

From Diversity to Belonging

I remember one particular staff retreat early in my career. We had a beautifully diverse team that had different races, nationalities, and faith traditions represented around the table. On paper, it was a picture of progress.

But as the conversation deepened, tension began to surface. What one person viewed as “direct communication,” another experienced as “disrespect.” What was meant as openness felt like confrontation. We were speaking the same language, but our meanings were worlds apart.

It was at that moment I realized: diversity had brought us together, but intercultural competence was what would help us stay together. We didn’t need more training on policies or statistics; what we needed to learn was how to listen across differences. That experience reshaped the way I approach leadership and ministry ever since.

Belonging is what happens when diversity and intercultural competence meet. It’s the fruit of intentional relationships built on curiosity, compassion, and mutual respect. When people feel seen and valued, not just for their presence, but for their perspective, culture shifts. 
This is the work that transforms communities, classrooms, and churches. It’s what moves us from simply counting who’s in the room to caring for who’s in the room.

A Call Forward

So as we celebrate diversity, let’s not stop there. Let’s ask the harder question: How can we grow in intercultural competence so that everyone, regardless of background, truly experiences belonging?
Because diversity is a milestone. Belonging is the mission.

The Digital Church: Navigating Faith in the Age of AI and Algorithms

We live in an age where algorithms often shape what we believe, artificial intelligence completes our sentences, and church livestreams bring worship into living rooms across the world. Technology isn’t just a tool anymore it’s a companion, a counselor, and sometimes, a quiet competitor for our attention. As artificial intelligence (AI) and digital platforms continue to evolve, they are redefining how we gather, learn, and grow as believers. The question is no longer if technology will shape the Church, but how we, as the Body of Christ, will shape technology through the lens of faith, wisdom, and discernment.

AI and Discipleship: Data or Disciples?

From Bible apps that track your reading habits to AI chatbots that answer theological questions, discipleship has gone digital. There’s beauty in that. More people now have access to Scripture, sermons, and study resources than ever before. But there’s also a subtle danger: when algorithms determine what we see and hear, they can begin to shape what we believe.

True discipleship isn’t about convenience, it’s about transformation. And transformation doesn’t come from an app; it comes from encounter. Jesus didn’t disciple the twelve through daily notifications. He walked with them. He asked hard questions. He invited them into messy, relational spaces where truth and grace collided. AI can support our spiritual growth, but it can’t replace the sacred rhythm of human connection and divine encounter that discipleship requires.

AI and Preaching: The Sermon in the Age of Automation

It’s no longer science fiction; AI can now generate sermons. Some pastors already use tools to help outline messages or analyze audience engagement. Used wisely, these can enhance creativity and efficiency. But we must remember that inspiration doesn’t come from code; it comes from the Spirit. 

Preaching is not just content delivery to be presented through chat boxes, it’s a sacred act of hearing from God and speaking His heart to His people. The prophet Jeremiah said, “His word is in my heart like a fire” (Jeremiah 20:9). That kind of fire can’t be downloaded. It must be cultivated through prayer, humility, and obedience.

Technology can help us craft the message, but only the Holy Spirit can convict the heart.

AI and Discernment: Who’s Leading the Conversation?

Discernment has become one of the Church’s most needed and most neglected virtues.
In a world where digital feeds curate our worldview, believers must learn to question not just what they see, but why they’re seeing it.

Algorithms are designed to keep us engaged, not necessarily enlightened. They feed us what we like, which can create spiritual echo chambers. That’s why we must practice digital discernment and evaluate not only information, but also intention.

Paul’s warning in Romans 12:2 feels more relevant than ever:
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

Renewal requires awareness. It demands that we pause before we post, pray before we share, and filter our thoughts through Scripture more than social media.

The Way Forward: Redeeming Technology for Kingdom Purposes

The Church doesn’t need to fear technology; it needs to redeem it. AI can be a bridge, not a barrier, when guided by wisdom and mission. Imagine AI tools that help missionaries translate Scripture faster, analyze community needs, or provide accessible discipleship content across languages and time zones. The key is ensuring the tool serves the truth, not the other way around.

As we navigate this digital age, may our posture be one of prayerful innovation:
• Use technology wisely: not as a replacement for the Spirit, but as a resource for ministry.
• Guard our hearts: because no algorithm can discern motives like God can.
• Stay grounded in community: for the Church is not virtual, but incarnational.
• Don’t get stuck on a single algorithm: Consume content from an opposing view.

Reflection and Prayer

Lord, in a world run by data and devices, help us not lose sight of Your voice.
Teach us to use technology with integrity, creativity, and care.
Guard our minds from distraction and our hearts from deception.
May every digital platform become a pulpit for Your truth,
and may Your Church shine not because of innovation but because of revelation.
Amen.

How Christians Can Respond to Polarization

We don’t have to look far to see how divided our world has become. Families split over disagreements, friendships falter over differing views, and communities fracture along cultural, social, and generational lines. In a time when polarization seems to be the air we breathe, how should followers of Jesus respond?

The good news is this: the Bible has always spoken into fractured times. From the divided kingdoms of Israel and Judah to the early church wrestling with Jew-Gentile relations, God’s people have faced division before. And in each season, the call has been clear: pursue unity in Christ.

The Biblical Call to Unity

1. Jesus’ Prayer for Oneness
   In John 17, Jesus prays that His followers “may be one” just as He and the Father are one. Unity is not an optional extra; it is central to our witness. When the world sees Christians united in love, it sees a reflection of God Himself.

2. Paul’s Plea to the Church
   Writing to the Corinthians, a church torn apart by factions, Paul reminds them: “Is Christ divided?” (1 Corinthians 1:13). Our allegiance is not to ideologies, tribes, or personalities, but to Christ alone.

3. Bearing With One Another
   Colossians 3:13 urges us to “bear with each other and forgive one another.” True unity requires patience, humility, and a willingness to extend grace… even when it’s not easy.

Practical Peacemaking in a Divided Community

1. Listen Before You Speak
   Polarization thrives on assumptions. By practicing intentional listening, we honor the dignity of others and open the door to understanding. James 1:19 reminds us: “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.”

2. Seek Common Ground
   In fractured communities, focusing on what unites us, ie. our shared humanity, our shared faith, and our shared hopes; these help us build bridges. Unity does not mean uniformity; it means finding strength in diversity while pursuing a common good.

3. Model Reconciliation
   Christians are called “ambassadors of reconciliation” (2 Corinthians 5:18). This means being proactive in healing relationships and quick to apologizing when we’ve hurt others, forgiving when we’ve been wronged, and resisting the temptation to withdraw.

4. Create Spaces of Belonging
   Whether in churches, small groups, or community gatherings, we can cultivate environments where people feel safe to share their perspectives without fear of judgment or rejection.

5. Pray for Unity
   True reconciliation requires the Spirit’s work. Prayer softens hearts, breaks down walls, and reminds us that unity is ultimately God’s gift, not our achievement.

A Different Kind of Witness

When Christians choose unity over division, grace over hostility, and reconciliation over bitterness, we become a countercultural witness in a fractured world. Our communities can be places where differences are not erased but transformed by the love of Christ. As Paul reminds us in Ephesians 4:3, “Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.” Every effort matters. Every step toward peace matters. And in doing so, we show a divided world the power of the Gospel.

Reflection

Polarization is not just a problem “out there”; it often creeps into our homes, churches, and relationships. Following Christ means we resist the urge to take sides and instead choose the harder path of peacemaking. True unity does not mean ignoring differences but rather it means inviting God to transform us into a people who reflect His love across every divide. Where in your life is God calling you to be a bridge-builder today?

Prayer

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for calling us to be Your people of peace in a world marked by division. Forgive us for the times we have added to the noise of polarization instead of reflecting Your love. Teach us to listen with humility, to speak with grace, and to act with courage. Fill us with Your Spirit so that we may become ambassadors of reconciliation in our families, communities, and world. Unite us, Lord, so that our lives point others to You.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Caring for the Widow, the Orphan, and the Stranger

When Christians talk about justice, it’s not a trendy word we borrow from politics or culture. Justice has always been at the very heart of God’s character and at the center of the biblical story. From Genesis to Revelation, Scripture consistently calls God’s people to embody His justice on earth. If we want to understand what it means to live faithfully today, we have to look closely at the biblical and theological roots of justice.

Justice in the Hebrew Bible

The Hebrew Bible paints a clear picture of justice as both relational and societal. One of the most repeated refrains throughout the Torah, the Prophets, and the Writings is the call to protect the most vulnerable in society: “the widow, the orphan, and the alien.” These three groups symbolized those who lacked social, economic, and political protection. Over and over again, God reminds Israel that their treatment of the marginalized reveals the condition of their covenant faithfulness.

• Exodus 22:22-23 warns: “Do not mistreat or oppress a foreigner, for you were foreigners in Egypt. Do not take advantage of the widow or the fatherless. If you do, and they cry out to me, I will certainly hear their cry.”

• Isaiah 1:17 commands: “Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.”

• Micah 6:8 distills God’s requirement: “To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

Justice in the Old Testament is not simply about law enforcement or fairness. It is covenantal and it flows out of God’s character. Yahweh identifies Himself as the defender of the powerless, and Israel’s vocation was to mirror His justice in community life.

Justice in the New Testament

When we turn to the New Testament, we see continuity with the Old Testament vision, but now embodied in the life and ministry of Jesus. He proclaimed that the arrival of the Kingdom of God is marked by justice, mercy, and peace.

• In Luke 4:18-19, Jesus declares His mission using Isaiah’s words: “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor… to set the oppressed free.”

• In His parables, Jesus elevates the importance of caring for the least of these (Matthew 25:31-46).

• The early church lived this out by sharing possessions so no one was in need (Acts 2:44-45).

Paul, too, emphasizes justice in community life. His teachings on reconciliation, equity, and mutual care show that the gospel is not just about personal salvation but also about transformed relationships that reflect God’s justice.

Justice as a Core Christian Tenet

When we talk about justice as Christians, we are not adding something extra to our faith. We are returning to its roots. Justice is woven into the very fabric of Scripture and God’s heart for the world.

To care for the widow, the orphan, and the alien today is to care for those who are most vulnerable in our own context: the refugee/immigrant, the single parent, the homeless, the marginalized. Justice is not optional; it is divine mandate.

The biblical call is clear: God’s people are to reflect His character by doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with Him. Anything less distorts the gospel.

A Reflective Moment

Join me today by pausing and asking yourself: Who are the “widow, orphan, and alien” in my community? What would it look like for me, my family, and my church to embody God’s justice in tangible ways this week?

Justice is not just a theory; it’s a way of life. And when Christians live out this mandate, the world catches a glimpse of the Kingdom of God.

Faith Habits That Break Barriers & Build Bridges

In a world divided by misunderstanding and cultural distance, daily spiritual practices can serve as powerful tools for healing, empathy, and reconciliation. These habits are more than personal disciplines—they are sacred invitations to see others as God sees them. This week, I want to explore with you how intentional spiritual rhythms can help us grow in empathy, humility, and cultural awareness

Empathy. Humility. Cultural awareness. These aren’t just good ideas for Christians—they’re essential for anyone seeking to follow Jesus in a divided world. But how do we actually grow in these traits, especially in a time when misunderstanding and polarization feel so common?

One of the most powerful ways God shapes our hearts is through our daily spiritual practices. These habits—when done with intention—create space for the Holy Spirit to deepen our love for others, especially those from cultures different from our own. Spiritual disciplines are not just about personal holiness; they’re about transformation. They reorient our lives around the Kingdom of God, where every tribe and tongue are seen, valued, and honored.

Daily Rhythms For Cultivating Cultural Humility

Here are some of the rhythms I’ve found most impactful on my own journey of faith and intercultural growth:

Listening prayer has become a sacred rhythm in my day. It’s the practice of sitting quietly with God - not to talk, but to listen. In a culture obsessed with noise and productivity, listening prayers slows us down and attunes our hearts to what matters most. As we learn to listen to God, we also become more sensitive to the voices around us, especially the ones we’ve been conditioned to overlook. It is important to start the day by asking, “Lord, whose story do I need to hear today?” That question alone will open up deep conversations, unexpected relationships, and more humility in our responses.

Another discipline that has stretched me is lament - particularly cultural lament. Scripture is full of lament, from the psalms of David to the cries of the prophets. And yet, many of us skip this step when it comes to injustice or pain that doesn’t directly impact us. Practicing cultural lament means entering into the grief of others with compassion, not defensiveness. This isn’t about being overly religious or putting on a show; it’s about letting God open our hearts to feel something we might otherwise miss. Lament helps us move beyond our limited perspective and into true compassion. It means acknowledging generational wounds, systemic brokenness, or the everyday struggles that some communities face. When I bring these burdens before God, I’m reminded that empathy is not weakness—it’s Christlikeness. 

One simple but profound habit that’s shaped my perspective is gratitude journaling through a cross-cultural lens. At the end of each day, jot down one thing you’re grateful for related to another culture—maybe a tradition, a person, a story you heard, or even a meal you enjoyed. It’s helped me shift from tolerance to appreciation, and from assumption to awe. It’s easy to critique what’s different; it takes intentionality to thank God for it.

Another practice I believe it’s important to lean into is reading Scripture through a global lens. The Bible was written in cultural contexts very different from our own, and it’s important to remember that. I ask questions like, “How would someone from a different background read this passage? What assumptions am I bringing?” This kind of reflection deepens my respect for the global Church and keeps me humble in my interpretations. The Word of God is for all people, and reading it that way changes everything.

On a more physical level, prayer walking has helped me connect my body, spirit, and surroundings. When I walk my neighborhood or campus and pray for the nations, I’m reminded that God’s mission is bigger than my immediate concerns. I pray for local immigrant families, unreached people groups, or global conflicts. It anchors me in God’s love for the world and reminds me that wherever I go, I carry the presence of Christ.

One of the most impactful spiritual disciplines I’ve grown into is hospitality. Inviting people into my home or simply sharing a meal with someone from a different background is a sacred act. Hospitality breaks down walls and opens up space for listening, laughter, and vulnerability. It’s not about perfection—it’s about presence. I’ve learned that sitting at someone else’s table—or welcoming them to mine—is often more transformative than any sermon or seminar.

Finally, there’s daily repentance and recommitment. This might be the most personal one. Each night, I ask God to show me where I assumed, judged, ignored, or stayed silent. It’s not about shame—it’s about recalibration. I want to see people as God sees them. I want to love better tomorrow than I did today. Repentance keeps my heart soft, and recommitment keeps me on mission.

These daily habits are not about checking boxes—they are about becoming more like Jesus. Empathy doesn’t grow in a vacuum. Humility doesn’t appear overnight. Cultural awareness isn’t built in one workshop. These are the fruits of daily, Spirit-led formation. The good news is, we’re not doing this alone. The Holy Spirit is our guide. And every small practice adds up to a big change over time.

If you’re ready to cultivate a cross-cultural heart, I invite you to join me.

Reflective Prayer

Lord, open my heart to see beyond myself. Teach me to listen before I speak, to lament with those who grieve, to give thanks for the beauty in every culture, and to walk humbly with You each day. Shape me through these practices so that my life reflects Your Kingdom—where every tribe, tongue, and nation is honored. Keep me soft in repentance, bold in hospitality, and faithful in love. May my daily rhythms draw me closer to You and closer to those You’ve called me to serve. Amen.

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Daily Spiritual Practices That Cultivate Empathy, Humility, and Awareness Across Cultures

Not Limited by Where You Came From

When we look at the life of Solomon, it’s clear that God’s purposes are not limited by human circumstances. Solomon was the son of David and Bathsheba, a relationship that began in the sin of adultery (2 Samuel 11). By human standards, his very existence could have been dismissed as illegitimate. Yet God chose him, blessed him, and used him in a mighty way.

What the World Says vs. What God Sees

The world may look at your beginnings and label you as unqualified, unworthy, or illegitimate. People may whisper about your past or the way you came into the world and other circumstances. But God sees something different. He looks beyond circumstances and sees destiny. Solomon could have lived under the shadow of his parents’ sin. He could have believed the narrative that his life was disqualified from greatness. Instead, his heart was set on serving as the best king he could be, and God honored that.

Even Solomon’s own family dynamics were complicated. His stepbrothers resisted his kingship. Absalom, another son of David, was considered by many the rightful heir. But God had other plans. This shows us that God’s call on your life isn’t determined by birth order, pedigree, or public opinion. His choice is sovereign. When He sets His hand on you, no rival, no critic, and no past mistake can stop His purpose.

Lessons from Solomon’s Story

Solomon’s life is a reminder that God’s calling is never confined by human limitations. From his journey we can draw out some powerful truths:

1. Your beginnings don’t define your future.

Solomon’s story began in scandal, yet his life ended up marked by wisdom, prosperity, and influence. This shows us that no matter how messy your past, God can redeem it. Maybe you’ve carried shame because of family history, past mistakes, or things beyond your control. Solomon reminds us that your starting point is not your destiny, God’s grace is. Stop letting shame dictate your steps. Lift your eyes to the God who transforms broken beginnings into beautiful stories.

2. Attitude matters more than circumstances.

Solomon could have lived under the shadow of being “illegitimate.” Instead, he chose to embrace the role God placed before him. He prayed not for wealth or power but for wisdom to lead well (1 Kings 3:9). His posture of humility allowed God to elevate him. You may not get to choose your circumstances, but you do get to choose your response. A heart of humility, faith, and obedience positions you for God’s favor.

3. God’s plan prevails, even through opposition.

Solomon didn’t have an easy road to the throne. His siblings resisted his kingship, and Absalom was considered the rightful heir. But God had already chosen Solomon, and no rival or critic could cancel God’s decision. People may overlook you, underestimate you, or even oppose you, but God’s call on your life cannot be overturned by human opinion. Trust His sovereignty when doors seem closed or when others rise against you.

4. Legacy is built on reliance, not lineage.

Though Solomon came from a complicated family story, his legacy was established by relying on God’s wisdom. His lineage may have been questioned, but his legacy was undeniable. Don’t obsess over where you come from, rather, focus on Who you belong to. God can take a broken family tree and graft it into His eternal story of redemption.

Together, these lessons remind me that what others see as disqualified, God sees as destined.

A Word for Us Today

Maybe you’ve been told you’ll never measure up. Maybe your past or your family background has been thrown in your face as proof that you can’t succeed. Hear this: God is not limited by your lineage. He is looking for a willing heart, not a perfect pedigree. If God could raise Solomon from scandal to the throne of Israel, He can use your life for His glory too.

Reflection Question

Where have you believed the lie that your past or your family disqualifies you? How might God be inviting you to trust His call instead of people’s opinions?

Closing Prayer

Lord, thank You that my worth is not defined by where I came from but by who You are. Remind me that my lineage doesn’t limit Your purpose for my life. Help me walk with faith, courage, and humility, trusting that Your plans for me are good. Amen.

Finding The Sweet Spot

The story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears has always fascinated me. I mean, how does someone just walk into a stranger’s house, rummage through their belongings, and make themselves at home? And let’s not forget—it was the home of bears! (But that’s a lesson for another day.)

What strikes me most in this story isn’t the trespassing but Goldilocks’ search for balance, her search for the sweet spot. She tried porridge that was too hot and too cold, chairs that were too big and too small, and beds that were too hard and too soft. But when she found the one that was just right for her, she was satisfied.

The Bible’s Take on Balance

The Bible also speaks to this pursuit of balance. In Ecclesiastes 7:16–17, Solomon writes:

“Do not be overrighteous, neither be overwise—why destroy yourself?
Do not be overwicked, and do not be a fool—why die before your time?”

We understand easily enough that too much wickedness and foolishness leads to destruction. But Solomon’s wisdom goes further; he warns us against extremes on the other side as well. Too much self-righteousness and self-proclaimed wisdom can be just as dangerous.

Why? Because when we elevate ourselves as too righteous or too wise, we stop relying on God.

The Dangers of the Extremes

Solomon’s wisdom in Ecclesiastes 7 reminds us that both ends of the spectrum can be dangerous. We usually recognize the danger of wickedness and foolishness, but sometimes we miss the subtler trap of being overrighteous or overwise.

The Danger of Overrighteousness

When we start to think of ourselves as overly righteous, we risk becoming like the Pharisees—focused more on rules, appearances, and self-image than on God’s heart. Instead of humility, pride takes root. We begin to measure others against our standards and forget that our righteousness is nothing without God’s grace.

• Modern example: This shows up when church becomes more about dress codes, checklists, or religious performance than about love and grace. It’s when someone says, “I don’t struggle with that sin, so I must be more spiritual than you.” Overrighteousness blinds us to our own need for mercy.

The Danger of Overwisdom

There’s nothing wrong with pursuing knowledge and understanding. But when wisdom turns into self-sufficiency, we stop listening to God. We lean on our own understanding instead of His guidance (Proverbs 3:5–6). This extreme can make us dismissive of prayer, dependent on logic alone, or even skeptical of God’s power.

• Modern example: This shows up when we think we can “Google” our way through life instead of seeking God in prayer. Or when we place more trust in self-help books and authors and podcasts than in God’s Word. Overwisdom whispers, “You’ve got this on your own,” when in reality, we desperately need His direction.

The Danger of Wickedness

On the other end, giving ourselves over to sin and rebellion erodes our relationship with God and leads to destruction. It may promise pleasure or freedom, but it ultimately brings bondage and brokenness.

• Modern example: This shows up when culture tells us, “Do whatever feels good” or “Live your truth.” It may seem harmless at first, but unchecked sin eventually entangles us in consequences we didn’t see coming. And by the way, there is no “your truth” or “my truth” or “their truth” (but that’s for another blog entirely)

4. The Danger of Foolishness

Foolishness might look like carelessness, recklessness, or ignoring wise counsel. This extreme leaves us vulnerable to consequences that God never intended for us.

• Modern example: This shows up when we rush into decisions without prayer, ignore godly advice from mentors, or live recklessly with money, relationships, or health. Foolishness says, “I’ll deal with the fallout later,” but later often comes with regret.

When we lean too far to either side, whether self-righteousness, self-reliance, foolishness, or sin, we miss the sweet spot of humble dependence on God. Balance doesn’t mean being oblivious; it means recognizing our limits and staying anchored in His grace.

Living in the Sweet Spot

The sweet spot of life isn’t about lukewarm faith or half-hearted living rather it’s about staying in a place where we fully depend on God. It’s where humility meets faith, where wisdom is surrendered to His greater wisdom, and where our righteousness is grounded not in our works but in His mercy.

This sweet spot keeps us balanced, humble, and deeply reliant on the One who holds all things together.

Goldilocks may have been looking for the “just right” bed, chair, and bowl of porridge but as believers, we’re called to find our “just right” in Christ.

Not too self-righteous. Not too self-reliant. But grounded in the sweet spot of God’s grace.

Reflection Question

Where in your life are you leaning toward extremes whether it’s too self-sufficient, too self-righteous, or too reliant on others? How might God be inviting you back to the sweet spot of dependence on Him?

Closing Prayer

Lord, thank You for teaching me that true balance comes from depending on You. Guard me from the pride of thinking I am too righteous or too wise, and protect me from the foolishness of sin. Help me to live in the sweet spot of Your grace, where my heart rests in You alone. Amen.

Learning from Joseph’s Life

The story of Joseph in Genesis is one of the most powerful pictures of God’s faithfulness in the Bible. His journey was not a straight line to success; it was marked by hardship, waiting, and disappointment. Yet through it all, God was writing a bigger story.

When we look closely, Joseph’s life shows us four stages every believer may face: the Pit, Potiphar’s house, the Prison, and the Palace.

The Pit: Darkness and Betrayal

Joseph’s journey began with a dream, but quickly he found himself in a pit by his own brothers (Genesis 37:23–24). The pit represents those dark moments in our lives when we feel abandoned, forgotten, and misunderstood.

The pit reminds us that even when others betray us, God’s purposes are not canceled. Darkness doesn’t define the end of our story, it often marks the beginning of God’s shaping process.

Potiphar’s House: Relying on Someone Else

After being sold into slavery, Joseph ended up in Potiphar’s house. Here, he had some level of success and responsibility, but it was all under someone else’s authority (Genesis 39).

This stage represents seasons when we’re not in control of our own future, when we’re relying on someone else’s decision, approval, or leadership. It’s tempting to feel stuck, but Joseph shows us that faithfulness in another person’s house prepares us for God’s greater assignment in our own.

The Prison: Depression and Delay

Even after doing right, Joseph was falsely accused and thrown into prison (Genesis 39:20). The prison symbolizes those seasons of delay and discouragement, when it feels like the walls are closing in.

Maybe you’ve been faithful, yet you feel overlooked. Joseph could have given up, but instead he used his gifts in prison to interpret dreams and serve others. Sometimes our “prisons” become the training ground where God develops the character needed for promotion.

The Palace: Redemption and Purpose

Finally, Joseph was elevated to Pharaoh’s palace, where he became second-in-command over all Egypt (Genesis 41:39–41). The palace represents the season of redemption, when God’s plan becomes clear and His promises are fulfilled.

But notice that Joseph didn’t arrive at the palace overnight. The pit, Potiphar’s house, and the prison were all necessary stops on the way to the palace. Each stage prepared him for the weight of leadership and the fulfillment of God’s dream for his life.

Our Journey

As believers, our journey may look like Joseph’s ups and downs, setbacks and breakthroughs. But through every stage, God is at work. The pit does not last forever. The prison is not permanent. And even in Potiphar’s house, God is preparing us for the palace.
The challenge is that many of us want to skip the pit, avoid Potiphar’s house, and rush past the prison so we can get to the palace as quickly as possible. But when we rush the process, we miss the lessons God is teaching us along the way. A palace reached too soon can become a place of pride instead of purpose. Without the shaping that comes in hidden seasons, the weight of leadership in the palace can crush us.
Joseph’s story shows us that the palace is not just about promotion, it is about preparation fulfilled. God used the pit to build endurance, Potiphar’s house to cultivate faithfulness, and the prison to develop humility and patience. By the time Joseph arrived at the palace, he was ready to steward influence with wisdom and grace.
Romans 8:28 reminds us: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

Reflection Question

Which stage of Joseph’s journey do you find yourself in today—the pit, Potiphar’s house, the prison, or the palace? How is God shaping your faith in this season?

Closing Prayer

Lord, thank You that every season of my journey has a purpose. When I feel stuck in the pit, overlooked in Potiphar’s house, or delayed in the prison, remind me that You are preparing me for the palace. Help me to trust Your timing, walk faithfully in every stage, and rest in the promise that You are working all things together for my good and Your glory. Amen.

Religion vs. Relationship: What God Really Wants

There’s a big difference between religion and relationship, and the distinction changes everything about how we live our faith.

Religion says: “I obey so God will love me.”
It sets up a system of rules, appearances, and checklists. It commands us to do this and not do that. At its core, religion is about trying to earn God’s approval through our works.

But relationship says: “I’m already loved by God, so I obey.”
It’s not about earning love; it’s about responding to love. A true relationship with God starts with grace. It begins with the reality that Jesus already paid the price for our sins, and nothing we do can make Him love us more or less.

The Danger of Religion Without Relationship

When our faith slips into mere religion, it becomes about performative. We measure ourselves and others by how well we and/or they keep the rules. We start focusing on appearances, traditions, and what others think. And in the process, we lose sight of the heart of God and the Gospel.

Jesus Himself warned about this. He often confronted the Pharisees, who were meticulous about rules but far from God’s heart. He said in Matthew 15:8:
“These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.”

Religion without relationship can leave us tired, burdened, and feeling like we’re never enough.

The Beauty of Relationship

Relationship with God, on the other hand, is rooted in love. We obey, not because we’re trying to earn something but because we’ve already been given everything in Christ.

• Religion is about earning. Relationship is about receiving.

• Religion focuses on rules. Relationship focuses on love.

• Religion is about duty. Relationship is about delight.

When we walk with God in relationship, prayer becomes conversation, not obligation. Worship becomes overflow, not performance. Obedience becomes joy, not drudgery.

A Daily Invitation

So let us not get caught up in appearances, checklists, or performance. Let’s draw near to the One who invites us to:

• Walk with Him daily.

• Speak with Him freely.

• Know Him deeply.

Jesus is not a system. He is a Savior—and He wants your heart.
Reflection Question
This week, I encourage you to ask yourself: Am I living my faith as a checklist of duties, or as a response to God’s love?

Closing Prayer
Lord, thank You that Your love for me is not based on what I do but on who You are. Teach me to live out of relationship with You, not out of empty religion. Help me to walk with You daily, to obey from a place of love, and to trust that Your grace is more than enough. Amen.

An Anchor For The Soul

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.”

- Isaiah 43:2

Life has a way of bringing storms we never asked for. Sometimes they come suddenly, a diagnosis, a financial setback, the loss of a job, or the betrayal of someone we trusted. Other times the storms brew slowly, building in intensity until we feel the cables of our lives begin to strain.

The old hymn “Will Your Anchor Hold” asks a timeless question:

Will your anchor hold in the storms of life,
When the clouds unfold their wings of strife?
When the strong tides lift, and the cables strain,
Will your anchor drift, or firm remain?

It’s an honest question. Because if our anchor isn’t secured, the winds and waves will toss us wherever they please.

The Anchor That Holds

The refrain of the hymn gives us the answer:

We have an anchor that keeps the soul
Steadfast and sure while the billows roll;
Fastened to the Rock which cannot move,
Grounded firm and deep in the Saviour’s love!

Our security isn’t found in our strength, our planning, or even our best intentions. It’s found in the Rock that cannot move: Jesus Christ. Anchors are only as strong as what they’re fastened to. If your anchor is in the shifting sands of success, money, relationships, or titles, it won’t hold. But when it’s grounded in the love of Christ, it cannot fail.

Lessons From the Anchor

1. Anchors are unseen but essential.
   No one brags about the beauty of their anchor, yet without it, a ship won’t survive the storm. Faith works the same way. It may not always be visible, but it keeps us steady when nothing else can.

2. Anchors hold us in place, not out of the storm.
   Notice the hymn doesn’t promise an escape from the waves. The storm still rages, but the anchor ensures we won’t be swept away. God doesn’t always remove the storm, but He promises to keep us through it.

3. Anchors remind us of what is unshakable.
   In a world where everything feels temporary, Jesus is the Rock that cannot move. He was faithful yesterday, He is faithful today, and He will remain faithful tomorrow.

A Personal Word

I’ve walked through seasons where the winds of life were fierce, where what I thought would hold me together began to unravel. From a young age, the enemy tried multiple times to come for me in different ways - through physical injuries from accidents, through spiritual attacks, through professional sabotage, and through the heavy weight of mental exhaustion and depression.

But looking back, I see that the anchor of God’s love held me firm every single time. He healed me when car accidents could have taken my life. He preserved me when a playground injury or even falling through a building window could have left me broken beyond repair. He shielded me from curses spoken over my life and from spiritual traps meant to derail my purpose. He sustained me in the workplace when others schemed for my downfall. And He guarded my peace when everything around me felt chaotic.

Through it all, I may have felt the storm’s fury, but I was never lost to it.

That’s the beauty of the Savior’s love; it goes deeper than the waves can reach. His anchor doesn’t just hold us steady; it heals, preserves, and carries us through every trial designed to destroy us.

The Invitation

“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”
- Hebrews 6:19

So let me ask you: Where is your anchor today?

If it’s tied to something temporary like your career, your bank account, your relationships, or even your own strength, then the storm will eventually expose it. The winds of life have a way of showing us what we’re truly fastened to.

But if your anchor is grounded in Christ, you can be certain that you may bend, you may strain, you may even feel the spray of the waves crashing against you but you will not be destroyed. His love holds firm when everything else shifts.

Anchoring your life in Jesus doesn’t mean you’ll never face storms. It means that when the storm comes, you’ll have a security deeper than the waves, stronger than the winds, and steadier than the fiercest tide.

Do The Work

This week, I exhort you to pause and ask yourself: What is my anchor tied to and does it hold when the storms rise? Sit with this and deeply meditate on the answer. Examine yourself and reflect on what your response is. Write it down, and share it with someone you trust.

Say A Prayer

Lord, thank You for being the Rock that cannot be moved. In a world where storms come without warning, help us anchor our lives in You. Strengthen our faith when the waves rise high, and remind us that Your love is deeper and stronger than any tide we face. Keep us steadfast, sure, and grounded in You. Amen.

What’s In Your Hand?

Photo Credit Nature by Beth

When God appeared to Moses and asked him to go to Egypt to lead the Israelites out of captivity, Moses hesitated. He gave excuse after excuse for why he wasn’t the right man for the job. His identity, in his own mind, was wrapped up in being a shepherd. He saw himself as nothing more than someone tending sheep.

But God interrupted that mindset with a question that would reshape everything:
“What is in your hand?”

Moses looked down and saw a staff, the tool of his trade, the symbol of his work. It was his career, his livelihood, his sense of identity. And God asked him to lay it down.

That staff, though simple, represented how Moses defined himself. It was as if God was saying: The thing you think defines you is not the limit of who you are. Let me show you another calling.

The Hard Work of Laying It Down

God often brings us into seasons where He calls us to lay certain things down. That doesn’t mean those things never mattered; it just means they don’t matter right now in the same way.

In March, when I got called into the HR office and was told my position was eliminated, it felt like someone had just asked me to lay down my staff. For nearly two decades, higher education had been my professional identity. I had poured my life, my energy, my gifts into it. And suddenly, it was gone.

I was holding on with both hands, and letting go did not feel like an opportunity… it felt like loss. Like failure. Like my very identity had slipped away.

But here’s the truth: that moment wasn’t about what I lost. It was about what God wanted to do with what was in my hand.

From Staff to Snake

When Moses laid down his staff, it became a snake. Think about that. The very thing he thought gave him security and identity turned into something dangerous when surrendered.

How often do the things we cling to: our jobs, our titles, even our sense of self, become toxic when we hold them too tightly? Sometimes the very identity we protect is the thing that could poison us if we refuse to release it.

Yet, when Moses picked the staff back up at God’s command, it wasn’t just a shepherd’s staff anymore. It became the rod of God, the tool that would part the Red Sea, strike water from a rock, and display God’s power before Pharaoh.

The Invitation

Maybe God is asking you the same question He asked Moses: What is in your hand?

It could be your career, your degree, your role in your family, or even your comfort zone. And maybe, just maybe, God is inviting you to lay it down so He can transform it into something that serves His greater purpose.

The identity you think defines you isn’t the end of your story. In God’s hands, it’s just the beginning.

A Closing Prayer

Lord, thank You that You see more in us than we see in ourselves. Help us to release the things we grip too tightly, our titles, our roles, our comfort zones, and lay them before You. Teach us to trust that when we surrender, You can transform our identity and use it for Your glory. May what’s in our hand become what’s in Yours. Amen.