Blog

Tag: Savior

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • I Just Want to See Everyone Win

    Let me tell you what I want. I don’t want fame. I don’t want recognition. I don’t want power. I don’t want to be above anyone. I just want to see everyone win.

    I want to see people do well. I want to see people happy. I want to see people live a life that is full, free, and abundant, not just in material things, but in the things that actually matter. I want to see people find true joy, the kind that doesn’t fade when circumstances change. The kind that stays even in the midst of struggle.

    I want to see people find peace. Not just the temporary kind that comes from a quiet moment, but the deep, unshakable peace that holds you together when life is trying to tear you apart. The peace that only God can give.

    I want to see people find true love, not just romance, but real, unconditional love. The kind of love that isn’t based on what you can give someone, but simply because you are worthy of being loved.

    And more than anything, I want everyone to find Jesus the way I did.

    There’s nothing special about me. I’m not some perfect example. I’m not better than anyone else. I don’t have it all figured out. I fail daily. I struggle, I fall, I make mistakes. But God redeems me. Every single day, He picks me back up, He covers me in grace, and He reminds me that His love is greater than my failures.

    And if He did it for me, He’ll do it for you.

    You are not too far gone. You are not too broken. You are not beyond redemption. God’s grace is bigger than your past, bigger than your mistakes, bigger than the lies you tell yourself about who you are. He sees you. He loves you. And He’s waiting for you with open arms.

    I just want to see everyone win. And the greatest victory of all? It’s not in money, success, or status. It’s in knowing Jesus, in finding the love and peace that only He can give.

    So if you’re struggling, if you’re lost, if you feel like you’re nothing, just know, you’re not alone. I’ve been there. And God met me where I was. And He’ll meet you too. You just have to let Him.

  • Humbled At The Cross

    People are out here acting like they’re on a whole different level, like they breathe a rarer air than the rest of us. You see it everywhere, folks flexing their accomplishments, their wealth, their status, their influence, their intelligence, their righteousness, their struggle, their pain, like it somehow makes them more worthy than the next person. Like they’ve unlocked some divine cheat code that sets them apart from the rest of us mere mortals.

    But let’s be real, none of that matters when you’re standing at the foot of the cross.

    At the foot of the cross, titles disappear. Degrees don’t mean anything. Bank accounts are irrelevant. Social status is wiped clean. The pain you’ve endured, the success you’ve built, the mistakes you’ve made, none of it makes you more or less than the person standing next to you. Because in that moment, we are all reduced to the same truth: We are sinners in need of grace.

    The problem is, people forget that. They start believing their own hype. They think their talents, their looks, their hustle, or even their suffering puts them in a different category. Some people act like their pain makes them deeper, their wisdom makes them superior, or their righteousness makes them untouchable. Others flex their rebellion, as if their defiance makes them the realest person in the room.

    But the cross is the great equalizer. It doesn’t care how rich you are, how famous you are, how broken you are, or how wise you think you’ve become. It levels the playing field and exposes the truth, we are all the same.

    We are all guilty. We are all in need of grace. We are all offered the same mercy.

    So why walk around like you’re better than anyone else? Why carry yourself like your story makes you the main character and everyone else is just background noise? Why act like your success or your struggle elevates you above your neighbor?

    If Jesus, the only one who had every right to claim superiority, chose humility, if He, who was blameless, carried a cross meant for criminals, who are we to act like we are anything other than deeply loved sinners?

    So let’s stop the ego trips. Let’s stop the comparison games. Let’s stop measuring worth by things that don’t last. Because when we stand before God, none of that will matter.

    At the foot of the cross, we are all the same. And the only thing that will separate us is whether we chose to humble ourselves and accept His grace or not.

  • Best Kept Secret of Our Generation

    Before I ever keep God to myself again, I will be buried in my grave and go home to see my Lord. Because God was never meant to be hidden away, locked behind the walls of my own comfort, tucked into the quiet corners of my private life. He is not a secret to be safeguarded, He is the Light of the world, the Hope of the broken, the Answer to the hurting. And if I have found that Hope, how could I ever withhold it from a world drowning in despair?

    I look around and see pain in every direction, people crushed under the weight of their burdens, searching for meaning in empty places, grasping for peace in things that can never satisfy. And I have the answer. Not because I am better, not because I am stronger, but because I have been rescued. I was lost, I was broken, I was bound in chains until Jesus stepped in. He pulled me out of the pit, He placed my feet on solid ground, and He filled me with a love that cannot be contained.

    So how could I ever remain silent? How could I live a life that hoards the goodness of God as if it were mine alone? No, friend, before I ever do that again, I will breathe my last breath and step into eternity. Until then, I will proclaim His name. I will testify of His grace. I will speak of His mercy and His power to redeem.

    This world is dark, but I carry a light. This world is hurting, but I know the Healer. This world is lost, but I walk with the Way, the Truth, and the Life. And as long as there is breath in my lungs, I will not keep that to myself.

    Let them call me foolish. Let them say I’m too bold. Let them reject, let them doubt, let them turn away. But I will not stop. Because Jesus did not stop for me. He bore my shame, He carried my cross, He endured the weight of my sin so that I could know Him. And if He gave everything for me, how could I ever withhold Him from others?

    No, before I ever keep God to myself again, I will be laid to rest, my work on earth complete. Until that day, I will be His hands and feet. I will share His love. Because He is not a God to be hidden, He is a God to be shared, proclaimed, and lifted high for all to see.

    The world needs Him. And as long as I am here, I will make Him known.

  • While Never Fun, We Need the Storms

    There are moments in life when the storm feels unbearable. When it knocks us down, leaves us broken, and makes us wonder if we’ll ever rise again. But sometimes, we need the storm, not because we enjoy the suffering, but because it opens doors we never could have imagined. It takes us places we never thought we’d go and allows us to reach people we never could have reached before.

    I think about Paul in Lystra. He was preaching the Gospel, doing what God had called him to do, and for that, he was stoned. Not just beaten or imprisoned, but stoned to the point that the people thought he was dead. They dragged his body outside the city and left him there, assuming it was over. And in any normal situation, it would have been. But God wasn’t finished.

    Paul got up. Bruised, battered, but not broken. And instead of running in the opposite direction, instead of saying, “I’m never going back there again,” he returned. First, he left for a time, but later, he came back. And when he did, he strengthened the believers there. What the enemy meant to destroy him, God used to build something greater.

    It makes me wonder, how often do we face trials, only to assume that’s the end of the story? How often do we suffer and decide we never want to go back to that place, that relationship, that calling? But what if God is saying, “Not yet. I’m not done. What the enemy meant for evil, I will use for good.”

    Paul didn’t go back as the same man. He went back with experience. With scars. But also with a testimony that couldn’t be denied. The people who had tried to kill him now saw that not even death could stop the message he carried. And because of that, the number of believers grew.

    Maybe you’re in a storm right now. Maybe you’ve been through one so painful that you never want to return to where it happened. But what if your return isn’t about reliving the pain but about showing others what God can do? What if your scars are the testimony someone else needs to see to believe that God is still in the business of redemption?

    The storm isn’t the end. The suffering isn’t the final chapter. Sometimes, we need the storm to take us places we wouldn’t have gone on our own. Sometimes, the very thing meant to destroy us is what God will use to bring life to others.

    So, if God is calling you back, back to the place of pain, back to the people who rejected you, back to the situation that almost broke you, don’t be afraid. You’re not going back the same. You’re going back stronger. You’re going back as a testimony. And through you, God will reach those who never would have believed before.

    What the enemy meant for evil, God will always use for good.