Blog

Tag: Jesus

  • Hoarding Grace

    If God’s grace is freely given, then why do we act like we have the authority to limit what we offer to others? Why do we hold back grace from people just because they don’t meet our unspoken standards? Why do we feel justified in hoarding something that we didn’t even earn or meant to keep to ourselves in the first place?

    Grace found us when we were at our lowest, not when we figured everything out. It met us in secret sin, in silent struggles, in shame we carried quietly and privately. God didn’t wait until we healed or fixed ourselves to pour it out. He didn’t say, I’ll love you after you get it together. He loved us while we were still a broken mess.

    Why are we so quickly to forget that when it’s our turn to give it? Honestly, we like the feeling of having the upper hand. It feels powerful to say that you hurt me, and now you have to earn my forgiveness. It feels safe to withhold grace, to guard ourselves, to protect our pride, to keep record. We dress it up as boundaries or discernment, but sometimes it’s just bitterness. Sometimes it’s control.
    Sometimes it’s a wound we’ve nurtured so long, that we forgot what freedom really feels like.

    But Jesus didn’t hoard grace, even when He had every right to. He didn’t hoard it from the ones who betrayed Him, denied Him, abandoned Him. He didn’t withhold it from the people who mocked Him as He bled.
    He said, Father, forgive them, not after they repented or asked for forgiveness, but while they were still treating him like he was nothing.

    That’s grace. Undeserved. Uncomfortable. Unfair. And yet, completely free. So who are we to measure grace with teaspoons when God pours it out as rivers?

    We say we want to be like Jesus, but Jesus didn’t wait until people changed to offer grace. He gave it, and the grace itself became the thing that changed them.

    We’re not called to be reservoirs of grace.
    We’re called to be rivers, letting it flow through us. This means even when it’s hard. It also means even when it hurts, especially when it costs us our pride.

    Grace is not ours to withhold. It was never meant to stop with us. It’s a gift we pass on, not a reward we hand out. Freely we’ve received and freely we must give.

  • Who Is Qualified To Judge

    At what point do you feel like you’re qualified to look down on someone else because of their past? I mean seriously, when do we cross that invisible line to where we suddenly feel authorized to judge who’s worthy and who’s not? Who gets to serve God and who doesn’t? Who gets to sing on the praise team, who gets to teach, who gets to minister—based on what we think we know about someone else or their past?

    Let me be as real as possible, we all need God’s grace every single second. Not one of us walks this life without it. Not one of us has earned it. Not one of us deserves it. Not one of us is better than the next. We’re all level at the foot of the cross. No VIP section. No spiritual hierarchy. No cleaner testimony. Just broken people being held together by grace and mercy.

    Who do we think that we are to say what someone else can or cannot do for God?

    Oh, you shouldn’t be on the praise team because you did this. You shouldn’t be ministering to them because you went through that. You shouldn’t be teaching this class because of what you used to be.

    Really though? Since when has God taken our opinions into account when He calls someone?

    Do me a favor, Ask yourself, who am I that He is mindful of me? Think about that for a second. That a perfect, holy, righteous God would look down at you, with all your flaws, all your baggage, all your wrong turns, and still choose to love you, use you, and walk with you.

    Now don’t you even forget that if He is mindful of you, then He is mindful of that person as well. The same grace that covers you is extended to the person you’re looking down on. The same mercy that picked you up is reaching for them too.

    We’ve got to stop playing spiritual referee, blowing the whistle on people’s callings just because we remember their fouls. You don’t know what God is doing in someone’s heart. You don’t know the conversations He’s having with them in secret. You don’t know the healing, the restoration, the transformation that’s happening behind the scenes.

    So stop looking down on people. Get humble, and start looking up at people. See them the way Jesus sees them. See the potential, the purpose, the calling. Stop being the voice of shame, and start being a voice of grace. Remind people who they can be, not just who they used to be.

    Because at the end of the day, none of us are qualified without Him. It’s grace that qualifies us all.

  • Satan Needs Division

    Satan Loves Division, Because He Knows the Power of Unity. One of Satan’s greatest objectives is division, and it’s not by accident, it’s calculated. Satan loves to divide families, churches, and nations. Why? Because the devil knows what will happen if we come together in one accord.

    Genesis 11:6, The Lord said, ‘If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them.’”

    NOTHING is the key word in that passage. God acknowledged that when people are unified, there’s no limit to what they can accomplish. Even when their motives were misguided, their unity carried power. And because of that, God had to intervene and scatter them. Only because their hearts weren’t aligned with His will.

    Now think about that.

    If unity outside of God’s will was that powerful, imagine what could happen when God’s people are united WITHIN His will. Imagine the revival, the breakthrough, the transformation. Satan doesn’t want that. That’s why he thrives off of confusion, jealousy, pride, gossip, hate, lust, division, etc… He sows seeds of strife and discord because he’s petrified of what we can become if we truly walk in unity together.

    He knows that a house divided against itself cannot stand: Mark 3:25. He knows that two are better than one: Ecclesiastes 4:9. He knows that where two or three are gathered in Jesus’ name, God is in the midst: Matthew 18:20.

    So naturally, he’s working overtime to keep us fighting with each other instead of fighting against him.

    He’ll use tiny misunderstandings, personal offense, theological debates, or cultural differences to divide. He will find anything to keep us from locking arms in love, truth, and purpose, and unity.

    But now, we have to wise up. We are not each other’s enemy. The real war is one that’s spiritual, not flesh and blood: Ephesians 6:12. Unity doesn’t mean we always agree on every detail, but it does mean we start moving in the same direction, under the same Spirit, with one mission: to love God, love people, and make disciples of all.

    Why do we give Satan the satisfaction of seeing us divided? Let’s break down the walls, forgive, reconcile, and walk in love. Because when we stand together, hell is terrified.

  • Sunday mask

    Too Many Don’t Live to Please God, They Live to Deceive People. Let’s just say it plainly. Too many people are not living to please God. They’re living to impress others. Not to walk in truth, but to perform in lies. Not to be real, but to look right. And that’s why we’re drowning in fake faith and shallow spirituality.

    You see it everywhere. People talking about God first while their actions scream me first. Quoting Scripture while living in secret sin. Serving in churches while gossiping, lying, manipulating, and craving status. They want the image of being godly, but not the lifestyle. They want applause from the world but couldn’t care less if God is pleased. It’s not about transformation, it’s about reputation.

    They’ve mastered the art of deception. Looking holy, sounding spiritual, even doing good works, but it’s all for show. Behind the curtain, there’s no prayer life. No repentance. No hunger for righteousness. Just ambition. Just ego. Just empty performance.

    They go to church, not to worship, but to network. Not to be convicted, but to be seen. They post verses, but won’t obey them. They say God bless, but curse people in private. And they’re more afraid of being exposed by people than being judged by God.

    Let me be clear: God is not fooled. Heaven is not impressed by your Sunday mask. God sees past the filtered posts, the fake smiles, the double life. He sees your heart, and He’s not interested in your performance. He wants your obedience.

    Living for people is slavery. It’s a trap. Because the crowd is never satisfied. You’ll exhaust yourself trying to keep up an image, all while your soul is starving. But living for God? That’s freedom. That’s power. That’s peace. Because He doesn’t need you to be perfect, He just needs you to be honest. Real. Surrendered.

    If your walk with God is just a costume you wear when it’s convenient, then what are you really doing? You’re not fooling God. And in the end, the same people you were trying so hard to impress won’t be the ones you stand before on Judgment Day.

    This is a wake-up call. Stop living for likes. Stop living for attention. Stop living to be seen, praised, or envied. Start living a life that’s holy when no one’s watching. Start living so that God, and not man, is pleased.

    Because the truth is, a lot of people are going to hell dressed like they’re going to church. Don’t let that be you.

  • My Pain is a Blessing

    My Pain is a Blessing

    That sounds strange, I know. Especially when you’re living with pain that doesn’t go away, pain that lingers day after day, like an unwanted shadow. Chronic pain wears on you, physically, mentally, emotionally. It drains you in ways most people will never understand.

    But even in that, I’ve learned something deeply valuable: pain has a purpose.

    If I never had pain, if I never faced suffering, I might start to believe I didn’t need help. That I had it all figured out. That I was strong enough on my own. But the truth is, I’m not. I’m not perfect, I’m not self-sufficient, and I wasn’t made to be.

    Pain is what reminds me I need God.

    It’s what drives me into His arms. When my body aches and no relief comes, when I’m exhausted just from existing, when I wonder how I’m going to get through another day, He meets me there. In the stillness, in the struggle, in the silence. I need Him every moment, and pain keeps me close. Not because God wants to see me suffer, but because He wants to see me lean on Him, trust Him, know Him in the deepest way.

    And maybe… maybe that’s a blessing.

    Because someone else out there is suffering too. Someone feels like they can’t go on. Someone is battling chronic pain, invisible illness, or emotional weight no one sees. If that’s you, I want you to know: I see you. I am you.

    And if my dependence on God, if my ability to keep moving, even when it hurts, can shine a light for someone else in the dark, then maybe that’s part of why I’m still standing. Not because I’m strong, but because He is. Not because the pain is easy, but because God is faithful in it.

    My suffering is how I stay connected to Him.
    My weakness is how His strength is made perfect.
    My brokenness is where His grace meets me.

    So no, I don’t thank God for the pain. But I thank Him that even in the pain, He’s present. And I thank Him for using it, for using me to remind someone else they’re not alone, and they’re not without hope.

    Chronic pain may be part of my life, but it will never define me.
    God does that. And He’s not finished with me yet.

  • A True Shepard

    A pastor should be someone you can trust. Not just to preach a good message on Sunday or lead a powerful prayer, but to live with integrity, walk in truth, and lead by example. You should be able to trust them with your heart, your questions, and yes, even your family. A true shepherd carries the weight of people’s lives with deep responsibility and care.

    Pastors are called to be trustworthy. They are called to be people of integrity, people whose words match their actions. You should be able to believe what they say. You should be able to watch their life and see consistency, humility, and growth. You should be able to lean on them during hard seasons and feel safe bringing your children into the fold of the church they lead. That’s not asking too much, it’s the bare minimum of what ministry leadership should look like.

    But here’s the thing… as much as you should be able to trust them, you’re not supposed to put your hope in them.

    When you put your hope in a person, they begin to take a place in your heart that only God belongs in. That’s when they stop being just a pastor and start becoming your god, your source, your security, your foundation. And here’s the hard truth: God will not compete for that place in your heart. If a person becomes your idol, no matter how gifted or well-meaning they may be, God will tear that idol down. Not out of cruelty, but because He loves you too much to let anyone else take His place.

    There are some leaders who want to be your hope. They thrive off your dependence. They want to be the only voice you listen to, the only one who can “hear from God” for you, the only one you turn to for answers. That’s not leadership, that’s control. That’s not shepherding, that’s manipulation.

    You need a pastor who doesn’t want to be your god. You need a pastor who doesn’t want your worship, your dependency, or your blind loyalty. You need a pastor who’s more committed to pointing you to Jesus than pointing you to them. Someone who is actively trying to build you up, not build a platform for themselves.

    A true pastor will teach you how to hear from God for yourself. They’ll lead you toward maturity, not dependency. They won’t be afraid to remind you: you don’t need a man to get to God. Jesus tore the veil, and no human being can ever stand in the place that only He was meant to fill.

    So yes, trust your pastor. Honor them. Pray for them. But don’t worship them. Don’t place your eternal hope in a person who is still human. Let them point you to the One who will never fail you, never leave you, and never have to be replaced.

    Find a pastor who helps you walk so closely with God that one day, you realize you don’t lean on a man anymore, you lean on the Father.

    That’s the goal. That’s the kind of leadership we need.

  • Why didn’t God Help?

    A question many of us have whispered in pain, shouted in anger, or quietly pondered in silence.

    When tragedy strikes, when suffering feels overwhelming, or when the world feels unfair, this is often our first question. Why didn’t God step in? Where was He?

    But what if He asks us the same question?

    “Why didn’t you help?”

    Think about the homeless person you passed today. You saw them. Maybe you looked away quickly, maybe you judged, or maybe you just told yourself you couldn’t do anything. But they were there, cold, hungry, human.

    Think about that coworker or classmate who looked like they were barely holding it together. You noticed. You felt something was off. But you didn’t ask. You didn’t stop. It wasn’t your business, you told yourself.

    Think about the person you love who’s been distant lately. You figured they needed space. Or maybe you didn’t want to deal with their weight when your own shoulders already felt heavy. But you sensed it. You felt it.

    What about the friend who hinted at needing help but never said the words? The kid who gets picked on while others laugh? The person online who posted something dark or cryptic and you just kept scrolling?

    We say, “Why didn’t God intervene?”
    But maybe He placed that person in your path because you were supposed to.

    Maybe we are His hands and feet, His heart in action.

    Maybe God’s help doesn’t come from lightning bolts or grand gestures, but from everyday people choosing kindness, choosing presence, choosing to care.

    So before we ask, “Where was God?”,
    He might gently ask, “Where were you?”

    Let’s stop waiting for divine intervention when we have been given the power to be divine love in someone’s life.

    Help when you can. Speak when you should. Show up when it matters.
    Because someone is praying for a miracle, and maybe, just maybe, that miracle is you.

  • The Great Deception

    Satan’s Strategy: Making Sin Look Normal and Righteousness Look Strange. One of the greatest deceptions the enemy has ever pulled off is making sin look normal, even desirable, while painting righteousness as outdated, boring, judgmental, or downright strange. This isn’t just a tactic; it’s a strategy deeply embedded in our culture, our entertainment, our education systems, and even our conversations.

    Think about it. What used to be considered shameful is now celebrated. What was once honorable is now mocked. Morality has been flipped on its head, and people hardly blink an eye. It’s not by accident. It’s a calculated war on truth, and it’s spiritual at its core.

    Satan doesn’t show up in a red suit with horns. He shows up in Netflix shows, music lyrics, social media trends, and persuasive ideologies. He whispers, “Do what makes you happy,” and convinces the world that self is god. He repackages rebellion as freedom and convinces us that boundaries are chains rather than protection.

    Meanwhile, righteousness, the pursuit of holiness, integrity, and obedience to God gets labeled as “judgmental,” “narrow-minded,” or “fanatical.” Christians who stand for truth with love are ridiculed, silenced, or canceled. Why? Because light exposes darkness, and darkness hates being exposed.

    The Bible warned us: “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness…” (Isaiah 5:20). We’re living in that reality. What Satan couldn’t accomplish through force, he’s achieving through subtle normalization.

    But here’s the truth: God is still on the throne. Holiness is still beautiful. Purity still matters. Obedience is still worth it. And the gospel is still the power of God unto salvation.

    Don’t be surprised when the world calls you strange for following Jesus. Be encouraged. You’re not crazy, you’re set apart. Don’t compromise to fit in with a world that’s falling apart. Stand firm, be bold, and let your life reflect a righteousness that points others to the only One who can truly save.

    In a world where sin is dressed up as freedom, choose the narrow road. It may be unpopular, but it leads to life.

  • forgiveness vs Reconciliation

    “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
    – Jesus (Luke 23:34)

    These words weren’t spoken in a moment of peace or comfort. They were spoken while Jesus hung on a cross, beaten, mocked, and betrayed. In His deepest pain, He still chose forgiveness.

    But here’s something we often confuse: forgiveness is not the same as reconciliation.

    Forgiveness is a decision you make in your heart. It’s a release. It’s saying, “I’m not going to let what you did keep poisoning my spirit.” Forgiveness frees you, it cuts the cord that ties you to the weight of resentment and bitterness. It doesn’t require an apology. It doesn’t require closure. It doesn’t even require the other person to still be in your life.

    Reconciliation, though? That’s something else.
    That requires trust. That requires change. That requires both people to show up with honesty, accountability, and growth. And not every relationship is meant to be restored.

    Just because I forgave you doesn’t mean I’m setting your place back at my table.
    And just because I’m not setting your place doesn’t mean I’m holding a grudge.
    It doesn’t mean I wish you harm. In fact, I hope you eat. I hope you grow. I hope you heal, succeed, and live in peace… just not at my table.

    We can want the best for someone, and still know that letting them close again would only bring chaos, hurt, or disruption. Boundaries aren’t bitterness. They’re wisdom. They’re growth. They’re protection.

    So let’s stop guilting ourselves into thinking that if we truly forgive, we must reconcile.
    Jesus forgave those who crucified Him, but He didn’t invite them to dinner. Forgiveness is commanded. Reconciliation is conditional. And wisdom is knowing the difference.

  • The Wake Up Call

    We All Think We Have Time. Everyone walks around like tomorrow is promised, like we’re guaranteed the next breath. But the truth is, time is the one thing we’re never guaranteed. We make plans, chase dreams, hold grudges, waste moments, and all the while, we forget that life is fragile. One moment can change everything. One phone call. One accident. One heartbeat missed. So stop acting like you’ve got forever.

    And somewhere along the way, we’ve convinced ourselves that we’re entitled. Like we’ve got these God, given rights we don’t even understand, let alone respect. We want justice when it benefits us, but we don’t want to fight for what’s right. Let’s be honest: if we really had to fight for our “rights,” most of us wouldn’t make it through the night. We’d fold under the pressure because comfort has made us soft, and entitlement has made us blind.

    Everyone’s out here talking about “my truth.” But let me say this, and I’ll say it loud: there is no your truth or my truth. There is only The Truth. And that truth is found in the one true living God. He doesn’t bend to opinions. He doesn’t change with trends. He doesn’t waver just because culture does. His truth stands eternal, unshaken, unmoved, and undefeated.

    We’ve built this culture where we tear each other down to feel superior. Where we measure someone’s worth by their money, their social status, their appearance, or their success. But let me make this clear: not one person walking this earth is better than the next. We all bleed the same. We all fall short. We all struggle, whether it’s behind closed doors or out in the open.

    So stop judging the one who’s homeless, addicted, depressed, or just barely holding it together. You don’t know the battles they’ve faced. You don’t know what it took just for them to survive today. Humble yourself, because in the blink of an eye, you could be in that same place.

    Money fades. Fame fades. Looks fade. But character and compassion, those are eternal. And truth? Real truth? That’s found in God alone.

    We all need a wake up call. This life isn’t about proving you’re better. It’s about realizing you’re not. It’s about loving harder, forgiving quicker, judging less, and remembering who’s really in control.

    You think you’ve got time? Think again. Live with purpose. Speak the truth. And never forget where it all comes from.