The gospel, or good news, is a royal proclamation. Historically, it announced that a king still reigned and that his kingdom had withstood the attack of its enemies.
That meaning still stands today:
King Jesus reigns and has defeated the enemy.
If you are not yet part of His Kingdom, He welcomes you today.
God created the world and gave a special role to humankind, His treasured creation. We were made to reflect Him, share in His rule, and spread His light and life throughout the earth.
But humanity chose its own way. Since then, every person has felt the effects of sin, brokenness, and darkness.
Yet God did not abandon His creation.
Ultimately, He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, the only perfect image of God and the true King.
Jesus began His ministry saying: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.” (Mark 1:15)
That is the good news: God’s Kingdom had broken into the world. Through Jesus, fellowship with God was open again.
Jesus made this possible through His life, death, and resurrection. He paid our debt and conquered death, proving He was the Son the God and the rightful Lord, Savior, and King over all.
The gospel is not about making Jesus Lord. It is recognizing that He already is Lord and surrendering to His reign.
God wants to rescue us from the kingdom of darkness and bring us into the Kingdom of His beloved Son (Colossians 1:13).
He saves us not only from sin, but for the life we were created for.
The gospel is not merely how to escape judgment someday. It is the good news that Jesus Christ is restoring people to abundant life (John 10:10).
This new life begins now and lasts forever.
If you’d like prayer, answers, Bible study, or a church family, we would love to talk with you.
There are days I still feel like a little girl trying to carry grown things with trembling hands. Days I smile at everyone in the room while silently praying nobody notices how tired my heart really is.
And maybe that’s why I love God the way I do. Not because I have always been strong in faith, but because He has been gentle with me when life was not.
Because somehow, the God who hung the stars in the sky still bends low enough to hold the ache inside a human heart.
“As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you.” Isaiah 66:13
I think sometimes we forget that God’s love is not cold. It is not distant. It is not rules and fear and trying harder.
His love nurtures. It stays. It listens to the crying we never say out loud.
Like the nights we lay awake worrying about our children, our marriages, our loneliness, our futures. The prayers we whisper while folding laundry, driving home exhausted, or standing in the kitchen trying not to fall apart.
And still—He remains.
“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.” Psalm 103:8
I have spent so much of my life trying to earn peace. Trying to prove I was worthy of love. Trying to become “enough” before coming to God.
But Jesus has never asked me to clean myself up before reaching for Him.
He simply says: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28
And maybe that is what I want all of us to remember tonight.
That we need Him. Not just on the hard days. Not just when tragedy strikes. Not just when our prayers are desperate.
We need Him in the ordinary moments too.
Because without Him: I become anxious trying to control everything. I become empty from pouring without being filled. I become someone constantly searching for validation that only God can truly give.
But with Him: There is rest for my soul. There is identity beyond performance. There is love that does not leave when I fail, doubt, or break.
What kind of love is that?
A love that stays even when we wander. A love that feeds us spiritually when we are starving emotionally. A love that covers us softly like a blanket on the nights we don’t feel strong anymore.
Sometimes I think God mothers our hearts in ways we don’t even notice.
In conviction that protects us. In mercy that meets us. In provision we almost overlooked. In the quiet strength He gives us to get up one more day.
And maybe being a woman of God is not about pretending we have it all together.
Maybe it is simply this: Coming undone in His presence and letting Him love us there.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18
So tonight, for every mother, every exhausted heart, every friend silently carrying grief, every soul trying so hard to be strong— I pray we remember that God never intended for us to do this life alone.
He is our comfort. Our shelter. Our daily bread. Our safe place. Our Father with the tenderness of a mother’s embrace.
And honestly, I do not know where I would be without Him.
Because when the world felt loud, He stayed gentle. When I felt unlovable, He stayed faithful. When I lost pieces of myself, He kept calling me “daughter.”
“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!” 1 John 3:1
This Easter found me in the in-between: Not who I used to be, not quite who I’m becoming yet.
Somewhere between letting go and learning how to hold joy again, between prayers I’ve seen answered and the ones I’m still laying down at His feet, again… and again… and again.
If I’m honest, this season has stretched me.
There were days I didn’t recognize myself.
Days I felt strong in the morning and undone by the night.
Days I questioned, days I wrestled,
days I wondered if healing was really happening
or if I was just learning how to carry the weight better.
But this is where He met me.
Not in the version of me that had it all together,
not in the “I’m fine” I gave everyone else, but in the quiet moments, the tired prayers,
the honest ones that sounded more like
“God, I don’t understand… but I’m still here.”
And He stayed.
He didn’t rush me.
He didn’t shame me for the process.
He didn’t ask me to clean myself up first.
He just… stayed.
And isn’t that what Easter really is?
Not just a celebration of a moment in history,
but an invitation.
An invitation to bring our real selves, our worn-out hearts, our questions, our grief, our hope
and lay it all down at an empty tomb.
Because the stone wasn’t just rolled away so Jesus could rise;
it was rolled away so we could finally breathe.
So we could step out of the things that tried to bury us—fear, shame, heartbreak, disappointment,
old versions of ourselves we’ve outgrown.
So to my friends. My safe place. My family.
I see you.
I see the way you keep showing up, even when it’s hard.
I see the quiet strength it takes to keep choosing faith when life doesn’t look how you thought it would.
I see the prayers you don’t always say out loud,
the tears you wipe before anyone notices, the battles you’re fighting that no one fully understands.
And I just want you to know: This day is for you too.
For the ones who feel like they’re behind.
For the ones who feel like they should be further along by now.
For the ones who are tired of starting over.
For the ones learning how to trust again—
God, themselves, and even other people.
Resurrection doesn’t always look like a miracle overnight.
Sometimes it looks like staying.
Sometimes it looks like choosing not to give up.
Sometimes it looks like letting God love you
in the middle of your mess instead of waiting until you feel “fixed.”
Sometimes it looks like sitting in a room like this,
with people who don’t expect perfection—just presence.
And if all you have today is a flicker instead of a flame, that’s okay.
If your faith feels small, if your heart still feels tender, if you’re still figuring it out—that’s okay.
Because He still rolls stones away.
Even the ones we’ve learned to live with.
Even the ones we’ve convinced ourselves
are “just how things are.”
He still breathes life into dry places—into weary hearts, into numb places, into dreams we thought were too far gone.
He still calls us by name, not by our past, not by our mistakes, not by our doubts; but by who we are becoming.
And maybe this year, Easter doesn’t mean everything is suddenly okay.
Maybe it means something softer. Something deeper. Something more real.
Maybe it means you’re still here.
Still trying. Still open. Still willing to let God meet you right where you are.
Maybe it means becoming:
Becoming whole. Becoming free.
Becoming the version of you that isn’t defined by what broke you, but by what God is rebuilding in you.
Prayer, for me, has never really been polished. It’s rarely eloquent. It doesn’t sound like the kind of prayers that make people nod or whisper amen under their breath.
Most days, prayer looks like me showing up half put together, half overwhelmed, and fully aware that God already sees the parts of me I’m still trying to hide.
Sometimes prayer is just, “God, I don’t know what I’m doing.” Sometimes it’s silence. Sometimes it’s tears that don’t translate into words.
And I cling to the promise that “the Spirit helps us in our weakness and intercedes for us through wordless groans.”
Because if I’m honest, there are days faith feels steady, and there are days faith feels like choosing to trust while standing in the fog.
Living for Him has looked less like perfection and more like returning. Returning after I’ve doubted. Returning after I’ve failed. Returning after I’ve tried to carry everything alone like I forgot He said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest”.
And maybe that’s what kingdom living really is – not never falling apart, but knowing where to fall when we do.
I think loving each other the way Jesus calls us to is one of the hardest and most beautiful parts of faith.
Because loving people sounds simple until it asks for patience when someone keeps struggling with the same thing.
It sounds beautiful until forgiveness is required before an apology comes.
It sounds inspiring until loving someone costs comfort, time, or pride.
But Jesus didn’t leave us guessing. He said, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”
Not if we’re impressive. Not if we’re always right. Not if we look like we have life figured out.
If we love.
And I think sometimes we forget that kingdom love is messy and patient and deeply inconvenient.
It looks like staying at the table during hard conversations. It looks like praying for each other even when we don’t know how to fix what someone is walking through. It looks like carrying each other’s burdens like Galatians tells us to – “Carry each others burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”
And if I’m being vulnerable… there are moments I want to isolate instead. Moments I convince myself I’m easier to love from a distance. Moments I feel like I have to be stronger, happier, more put together to deserve community.
But kingdom thinking pulls me back to the truth that we were never meant to do this life alone.
Acts says the early church shared everything – their meals, their prayers, their struggles, their lives. They weren’t bonded by perfection. They were bonded by presence.
And I think that’s what we’re building when we sit together, pray together, laugh, cry, confess, and keep choosing each other anyway.
Because a kingdom mindset slowly shifts the question from “What do I need?” to “How can I reflect Christ here?”
It reminds me that “we do not live for ourselves alone.”
It teaches me that humility isn’t thinking less of myself – it’s remembering we all stand at the same cross needing the same grace.
Philippians says, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourself.”
And if I’m honest, that verse stretches me. Because loving like Jesus means letting go of pride I didn’t even realize I was holding.
But I’m learning kingdom living isn’t loud or flashy. It’s quiet transformation. It’s choosing gentleness when sarcasm would be easier. Choosing grace when judgment feels justified. Choosing prayer when control feels safer.
It’s trusting that God is shaping something eternal in us even when growth feels slow and progress feels invisible.
Sometimes I look around this group and I see people who are carrying silent battles, private prayers, unspoken fears, and stubborn hope that keep showing up anyway.
And it reminds me of Hebrews, when it says, “Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, but encouraging one another.”
Maybe that’s what this is. Not people who have it together. Just people who keep choosing Jesus and keep choosing each other.
And maybe the kingdom isn’t something we’re waiting to see someday. Maybe it’s something God is growing quietly every time we pray honestly, love imperfectly, forgive slowly, and stay connected when it would be easier to disappear.
I’m still learning how to live this way. Still learning how to pray without pretending. Still learning how to love people the way Christ loves me – steadily, patiently, without keeping score.
Last week, we saw how the Shepherd provides for His people, presides over us in every valley and on every peak, and preserves us when we’re overwhelmed by the world around us. Today, we pick up right where we left off in verse 4—with the comfort of the Shepherd’s rod and staff.
We’ll see that Jesus, our Good Shepherd, protects His sheep, pours out His blessing, and promises us a home forever with Him.
In the video from last week[1], which way did the sheep run after being freed? It ran away from the shepherd. And what was the result? Right back in the trench he landed, right back in the same helpless predicament. Instead of learning and trusting that the Shepherd has our best interests at heart, we would rather trust in ourselves. He wants to protect and comfort us, and yet he often sees us running away.
He doesn’t just want to give us temporary relief. He’s not offering shallow comforts like wealth, success, or popularity that fade as quickly as they come. He offers a deeper comfort: His presence, His blessing, His peace that endures. And He promises those things not only now, but for all eternity. If we will choose to stay close to Him, we can live in the safety and abundance of His shelter forever.
And that’s exactly where David leads us next. In verse 4, he writes, “Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” The Shepherd’s protection doesn’t just pull us out of the trench—it keeps us walking securely at His side.
Remember what Jacob refused and what Joseph provided for his brothers?[3][4]Comfort. What does the end of Psalm 23:4 say is provided for us? Comfort. All these passages use the same Hebrew word, naham, and it means “to be in a state of finding relief from sorrow and distress” and “to repent, to change one’s mind.” It may not be clear right off the bat how those two definitions fit together, but let me share with you another time this word is used in the Old Testament.
Many generations after Jacob and Joseph, God rescues his people from slavery in Egypt. God is with them, leading them through the desert as they make their escape. In the midst of this escape, we get some insight into God’s thoughts in Exodus 13:17-18. There was a direct, straight-line path from Egypt to the Promised Land, but God had a purpose in taking the long way around.
17When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although that was near. For God said, “Lest the people change their minds when they see war and return to Egypt.” 18 But God led the people around by the way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea.[5]
“Lest the people change their minds…” Care to guess what original Hebrew word is in that phrase? Yes, naham. What’s God saying? The Israelites of that time are all effectively new followers of God. God knew one path would cause them to seek comfort in themselves and look for their own resolution. A run-in with the Philistines would cause them to retreat back to Egypt. They would try to relieve the pain of a war by putting the shackles of slavery back on.
The “changing of their mind” in this case would be an effort to change their own circumstances to try to achieve “comfort.” The changing of the mind that God wanted for them wasn’t concerned with the circumstances at all, but rather a shift in focus from the circumstances to him as their Shepherd.
Because, see, we know it wasn’t really about the Philistine army at all. God later annihilates the Egyptian army single-handedly as he drowns them in the waters of the Red Sea.[6] When God led his people into the wilderness, it was about growing them to the point that when they see trials, struggles, and even death on the horizon, they won’t turn back—that instead of trying to adjust course and comfort themselves, they look to God for true comfort.
This mindset requires a transformation, a renewal. His rod and staff, they comfort me… He leads us, grows us, molds us—to change our minds to follow him instead of our base instincts.
This example from Israel shows us that God’s wisdom, grace, and mercy may actually lead us into the wilderness for a greater good that isn’t immediately seen by us. Growth as his people means we learn to trust that there’s a purpose for those trying times, and we can still have peace by resting in him through it. We see the Israelites grow in this regard after they see God’s power in bringing them across the Red Sea and freeing them from slavery. In Exodus 14:31 it says, “Israel saw the great power that the Lord used against the Egyptians, so the people feared the Lord, and they believed in the Lord and in his servant Moses.”[7] They knew at that point they had a shepherd. They knew like Joseph knew, despite the circumstances, God had ultimate good in mind.[8] They knew like Paul knew, that God is always working for the good of those who are called according to his purpose.[9]
And that lesson carried on long after the Exodus. Think about Jeremiah’s day. Jeremiah 29:11 is one of the most quoted verses in all of Scripture: “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”[10] We often use this verse to encourage ourselves that the road ahead will be smooth and bright. But when Jeremiah wrote it, the people of God were on the very brink of exile! Their entire world was about to be dismantled. Yet even then, God had a purpose. He was still shepherding his people, even if the path led through Babylon.
And Jeremiah doesn’t stop with exile—he looks beyond it. In Jeremiah 31, God promises that he will gather his flock back together: “The people who survived the sword found grace in the wilderness…I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you…He who scattered Israel will gather him, and will keep him as a shepherd keeps his flock.”At that time, declares the Lord, I will be the God of all the clans of Israel, and they shall be my people.”[11]
Do you see the pattern? God may lead his people into exile, or into wilderness, or through waters—but always as their Shepherd. The rod and staff are not the absence of trial, but the assurance of his presence. True comfort isn’t freedom from struggle, but trust in the Shepherd through the struggle.
God’s protection provides us true comfort by changing our perspective—we don’t look back[12], we don’t retreat, we don’t lose heart. We can burn the ships[13], because not only is the Lord there with us, he has blessings prepared for us on the other side.
The Shepherd Pours Out – He Blesses and Elevates Us
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.[14]
When the Israelites changed their minds and sought comfort in the Lord and not themselves, they saw his blessing. He blessed them in the most powerful ways even in the presence of their enemies. They were heading to a land flowing with milk and honey.[15] They would be given all that they needed even in the wilderness that they would be traveling through—bread from the sky and water from a rock.[16] The Lord was their Shepherd, they would not be lacking.
Maybe you don’t always look to yourself for peace and comfort. Maybe you turn to your spouse, to your family, or to a close friend. If you come to me for comfort, I will do everything I possibly can as your friend and brother. But, I am not the Shepherd. I’m a sheep, just like you. Your friends and family members are all just sheep. We all have the same need of a Shepherd.
The good news is, the Good Shepherd is here. A little over 2,000 years ago, he was born on the earth as a man to literally walk with us so we could learn to trust him to walk with us for all eternity. We go back to what Jesus tells us in John 10:10—he came so that we may have life and have it abundantly.[17] Remember how the father celebrated the return of the Prodigal Son? He held a lavish feast in his honor.[18] Jesus even compared the Kingdom of God to a wedding feast.[19] Surely our cup overflows with him. He told the woman at the well that the water she found there would only temporarily quench her thirst. He promised her living water—a spring of water welling up to eternal life.[20]
He has anointed us with His Spirit. An anointing of healing, comfort, and true blessing. We see a picture of this in the parable of the Good Samaritan, he carefully treated his wounds with oil and wine.[21] As Paul says in 2 Corinthians 2:21-22 – “…21 it is God who establishes us…in Christ, and has anointed us, 22and who has also put his seal on us and given us his Spirit in our hearts as a guarantee.”[22] The Spirit is an immediate blessing of comfort and peace, as well as a guarantee of the promises still to come as a citizen of God’s Kingdom.[23]
The Shepherd Promises – He Secures Our Future
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.[24]
Do we have confidence in the Shepherd that he holds our future? There’s an old hymn that says: “I don’t know about tomorrow, I just live from day to day. I don’t borrow from it’s sunshine, for it’s skies may turn to gray. I don’t worry o’er the future, for I know what Jesus said. And today I’ll walk beside Him, for He knows what is ahead. Many things about tomorrow I don’t seem to understand, but I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand.”[25] Like we talked about last time, he’s promised his presence with us through all circumstances. He’s given us his Spirit to dwell within us. And yet still so often we let outward circumstances bring us to unbelief. Israel kept forgetting as they wandered in the wilderness. He fed them from the sky and watered them from a rock, and they still had trouble seeing him as their Good Shepherd.[26]
See the blessings of today as evidence of blessings to come. His presence can be enjoyed today, no matter what’s going on around you. His Kingdom is both “already and not yet.”[27] The Kingdom has come,[28] we are seated with Christ in the heavenly places,[29] we are citizens of that Kingdom,[30] and yet we still eagerly await the fullness of his plan,[31][32] when the Son of Man comes in his glory and we will inherit the kingdom prepared for us from the beginning.[33]
Remember what Jesus told his closest disciples as he was preparing them for his departure from their physical presence? “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. 2 In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.”[34] The dwelling place and our inheritance is secure. Peter tells us that this inheritance is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for [us].”[35] We can trust in God’s promises, because he’s already got them firmly in his hand. There may be a “future” for us, but God is outside of time. As the writer of Hebrews explains, “his works were [already] finished from the foundation of the world.”[36]
—————-
When we find ourselves in the trenches of life, can we trust that the Shepherd is still there leading? He provides all we need. He is always present, and he wants to preserve us. Can we look for the ways He might be using the wilderness to teach us how to lean into Him more? Will we seek his comfort and not our own? Will we give him credit for the blessings in this life? He’s a Good Shepherd who pours out abundantly. Will we trust him with our lives now and in the future? Are we leaning on his promises?
This is all easier said than done, but the Lord wants us to seek him and walk with him, and he grants us the strength to do it. In Hebrews 11:6 we read, “he who comes to God must believe that He is, and…He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.”[37]
Jesus, our Good Shepherd, is our source of comfort now and in the future—protecting us in every trial, pouring out His honor and blessing, and promising a home with Him forever. In every trial, take comfort in the Shepherd who protects. In every blessing, rejoice in the Shepherd who pours out. In every step, hold fast to the Shepherd who promises.
As James said, “draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.”[38] Draw near to the Shepherd today.
There’s a video that went viral a few years ago—a sheep got itself stuck in a trench with no hope of getting out on its own. The owner of the sheep, let’s call him a Shepherd, ties a strap to its back leg and pulls the sheep up and out of the trench. The sheep, unable to properly exercise its newfound freedom, promptly runs off and falls back into the trench just a few yards from where it was freed.[1]
It’s fitting that God’s people are often referred to as Sheep in the Bible. We really are helpless. Left to our own devices, we’d be in deep trouble. And yet, so often we think that we’re fully capable of being self-sufficient. We’re fiercely independent, and we certainly don’t need a god that we can’t see. We end up bouncing around from one part of a trench to another, always chasing something but never quite obtaining it, never satisfied and often discouraged. We quickly reach for someone to blame when we wind up in the valley, even if that someone is ourselves. We are glad to give ourselves credit when we finally reach a high point. Just when we think we’ve achieved a state of satisfaction, we realize that it was fleeting. Our tanks never stay full. Perhaps there’s a problem with what we’re filling them up with in the first place?
Psalm 23 is often cited as a source of comfort, usually in the face of death. No funeral in the movies is complete without it. Most of you probably have the first line going through your minds right now—The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. Who is my shepherd? Is it really the Lord? It’s one thing to read it or recite it. But do you believe it? Is that statement true for you? When we experience the inevitable lows in our life, do we know we have a Shepherd to trust in? When we experience joys in this life, do we acknowledge the true source? Can we see that the valleys and the mountaintops are all part of the same journey, and we’re being led by the Good Shepherd all the way? Maybe those lows, those valleys, those times in the wilderness, are from God himself for our good…
The Shepherd Provides – Contentment
The LORD is my Shepherd, I will never find myself lacking what I need. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.[2]
Where are we seeking contentment? Often times, if we’re honest, we seek contentment in the outward circumstances and physical pleasures of our lives. How is my career going? Do I have the position and influence I want? Am I making enough money? Is my house and car nice enough? Are my kids in the best schools? We’re deceived to think we can ever be truly satisfied in these things.
Once we’ve achieved a certain level, we realize that we feel the need for more. Instead of realizing there is something wrong with the road we’re on, we think we just haven’t gone down that road far enough. If I could just make a little bit more, or have better stuff or experiences. The more we have the more we want and it’s never enough. That’s how addiction works. That’s the reason we feel empty. That’s the world’s recipe for success and a feeling of worth—and it will always set us up for failure. We’ve seen it—the ultra wealthy of the world end up being so unhappy. They reach this pinnacle and realize it’s not what they thought it would be.
Charles Spurgeon said: “As to money, every man will have enough when he has a little more, but contentment with his gains comes to no man.”[3]
Ecclesiastes 2 shows us Solomon tried everything and still found it empty. He says in 2:11 – “Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun.”[4]
What does the first part of Psalm 23 remind us of? It’s the Shepherd that provides. And if he’s providing, we’ll never lack what we need.
We’re reminded in the Sermon on the Mount that God takes care of even the birds of the air and clothes the lilies of the field—how much more will he take care of us?[5] If we seek him, seek his Kingdom, he’ll take care of the rest. If we let him be our goal, that’s where we find true peace and true contentment.
What can come along and cause us to forget the Lord’s provision and care? Both the lows and the highs can contribute to this. We like to take credit for the good. Can we forget that the Lord is behind the blessings? And certainly, the lows of life can cause us to believe the lie that he isn’t there and he doesn’t care. What did the Apostle Paul say about this? He says can go through all circumstances—the highest highs and lowest lows—because of Christ who gives him strength.[6] Are we measuring contentment by our circumstances or by the presence of the Shepherd who provides?
The Shepherd Presides – Peaks and Valleys
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me…[7]
Let’s look at two well-known characters in the Old Testament and compare their response to the highs and lows of life—Jacob and his favorite son, Joseph.
Jacob’s very name meant “heel-grabber” or “deceiver.”[8] Though chosen by God to be the father of His people[9], he often tried to secure blessings through his own efforts. Ironically, the deceiver was himself deceived[10], and his family life was marked by favoritism and strife.[11][12] When his sons decide to sell his favorite son Joseph into slavery and told their father he was dead[13], Genesis 37:35 says “he refused to be comforted” and cried, “I shall go down to Sheol to my son.”[14] Years later, during a great famine, with Simeon held in Egypt and Benjamin demanded by an Egyptian ruler[15][16], Jacob groaned, “Everything is against me”.[17] Even when told the best news of all—that Joseph was alive—Genesis records that his heart was numb and he could not believe it.[18]
Let’s examine Joseph’s perspective on some of those same events. Joseph’s life was a roller coaster. He was his father’s favorite,[19] but his jealous brothers threw him into a pit and sold him into slavery.[20] In Egypt, he found favor in Potiphar’s house, because, as Genesis 39 says, “the Lord was with Joseph and caused all that he did to succeed.” Even Potiphar recognized it.[21] But soon after, Joseph was falsely accused and thrown into prison.[22] Yet again, Genesis tells us, “the Lord was with Joseph and showed him steadfast love.”[23] Years later, God lifted him out of prison and into Pharaoh’s court, second in command over all Egypt.[24][25] When he named his sons, he testified through the meaning of their names that God had made him forget his sorrows and made him fruitful even in affliction.[26]
And when Joseph finally revealed himself to his brothers during the famine, he said: “Do not be distressed…for God sent me before you to preserve life…so it was not you who sent me here, but God.”[27]
When Jacob was finally reunited with Joseph, he recognized that God’s hand had been at work all along. Even in the famine, God had already provided what was needed, arranging it long before Jacob could see it. Looking back, Jacob confessed in Genesis 48:15–16 – “The God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked, the God who has been my shepherd all my life long to this day, the Angel who has redeemed me from all evil…”[28] In the midst of his trials, Jacob couldn’t see what God was doing. Ironically, Genesis 48:10 adds that Jacob’s physical eyes were failing, “dim with age, so that he could not see.”[29] When he was nearly blind, he finally saw most clearly. If Joseph had not been lost for those years, Jacob’s family would have perished in the famine, Egypt and the surrounding nations would have starved, and his brothers would not have been humbled. What seemed like tragedy was in fact God’s preparation to preserve His people and lay the foundation for the faith of Israel.
After Jacob’s death, Joseph reassured his fearful brothers: “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive…So do not fear; I will provide for you and your little ones. Thus he comforted them and spoke kindly to them.”[30]
In that moment, Joseph became a shepherd to his brothers, providing for and comforting them. Notice the irony: this is the same “comfort” Jacob once refused when told Joseph was dead. Joseph invites his brothers to rest in his care, while Jacob so often chose to walk his valleys alone.
But Joseph, for all his wisdom and compassion, was only a shadow of the greater Shepherd to come. Jesus never leaves us to walk the valley on our own. His care is not temporary or limited. Our Good Shepherd is present with us in every step, and he presides over every circumstance, both the peaks and the valleys. Paul points us to this truth in Romans 8:28 – “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”[31]
The Shepherd Preserves – Trust vs. Self-Reliance
What is a sheep without its shepherd? The viral video referenced at the beginning demonstrates the sheep’s need. Relying on itself, it might have worked its way out of the trench one time, maybe twice, but as the pattern continued, it would eventually run out of strength. Jacob is a good representation of this. He didn’t reach for God in the dark times—instead, he wished for a shortcut down to Sheol.[32][33] What did he fail to believe in those moments? He didn’t see that he had a shepherd all along. He relied on himself for his own preservation, resulting in anxiety, despair, and unbelief. Even though he knew God’s blessing was on him—God promised him that directly[34]—he didn’t hold onto that knowledge when it was tested. He didn’t really believe it. Joseph, in contrast, never lost sight of his Shepherd. He experienced peace and confidence in even the darkest times. This is belief in action. He didn’t let his external circumstances, no matter how good or how bad, alter his internal trust and belief. He knew God was with him, even if he couldn’t always see how God was working and what was coming around the corner. He found rest there. After all, if God told us every little detail of what was down the road, we couldn’t stand under the weight of that, and we certainly couldn’t put our focus on the here and now.
Who is the Shepherd that can preserve us even in our darkest moments? Jesus says in John 10: “3bThe sheep hear [the Shepherd’s] voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out[35]… 10bI came that they may have life and have it abundantly. 11I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.[36]
What can be added to this picture of a Savior and his people? He calls us by name. We are his sheep. He will never leave us or forsake us. He came to give us abundant life. He loves us so much that he lays down his life for us. The wolves will come, but the Shepherd is stronger.
What happened when Mary was looking for Jesus after his resurrection? She didn’t recognize him at first, then he called her name and she knew it was him.[37]
Isaiah writes in Isaiah 43:1-3 – “But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.2When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. 3For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior…”[38]
Even after we come to Christ, we will face valleys; we will face struggles.[39] We will face the waters, rivers, and fires, as Isaiah writes. But we have a Shepherd through it all. Will we trust him enough to keep walking with him? He can’t lead us to the peaks if we don’t walk with him through the valleys. He will preserve us.
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Whether we like it or not, we are sheep. And as sheep we must put our trust in a Shepherd. Through the grace of God, we’ve been given that Shepherd in Jesus Christ. He came to give us life and everything we need in His Kingdom. He came to lead us in the paths of righteousness. Sometimes, that path goes through a valley. As we saw with Jacob and Joseph, he is working it out for our good and for his glory. He’s the only one that can see the whole picture. Will we respond like Jacob, or like Joseph? He used the wilderness to put Joseph where he wanted him. We’ll look in the next message how he used the wilderness to teach and grow Israel as a people. David went through the wilderness.[40] Ultimately, Jesus himself went through the wilderness.[41] When we admit that we are blind and submit to him as the Shepherd, we find peace and rest.
We have hope in his authority, provision, and love. In 1 Peter 5:4, Peter writes “And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory.”[42] John writes in Revelation 7:17, “For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”[43]
Jesus, our Good Shepherd, is our source of peace in the present, regardless of circumstance, whether on the peaks or in the valleys. In every need, trust the Shepherd who provides. In every path, follow the Shepherd who presides. In every season, rest in the Shepherd who preserves.
Do you trust him? There is no greater Shepherd, there is no better friend. He provides, presides, and preserves. He is saying to all of us: “28Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”[44]
“From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.” —Matthew 11:12
Let’s be honest. If we described someone as “spiritually violent,” most folks would raise an eyebrow. That doesn’t sound very Christian. But Jesus said it.
The kingdom of heaven is not for the casual. Not for the indifferent. Not for the ones just hoping to coast through until the end. Jesus made it clear: there is a kind of spiritual boldness, even violence, required to take hold of the life He offers.
It’s not about aggression toward others—it’s about refusing to be turned away from our pursuit of God. It’s ripping the roof off the house when the crowd blocks the door (Mark 2:1–12). It’s pushing through the masses just to touch His cloak (Mark 5:24–34). It’s throwing off your cloak and running blindly to the voice of Jesus when He calls your name (Mark 10:46–52).
Do we want Him like that?
The woman who begged Jesus to heal her daughter didn’t stop when He ignored her. Or when the disciples told her to go away. Or even when Jesus challenged her with words that would make many walk off offended. She pressed on—and Jesus praised her faith (Matthew 15:21–28). It was violent faith. She didn’t come to Jesus politely. She came desperately.
So did Cornelius. A Roman centurion—sworn to Caesar—openly receives the message that Jesus is Lord of all (Acts 10:1–11:18). For him, that declaration wasn’t religious lingo. It was treason. But he knew: Jesus is worth everything. He had likely faced cultural pressure, maybe even danger, but he still gave generously, prayed constantly, and sought truth wholeheartedly.
Are we willing to look foolish? To be misunderstood? To challenge religious norms or comfort zones in pursuit of Christ?
The Bible is filled with men and women who wrestled with God (Genesis 32:22–32), knocked persistently (Luke 11:5–13), cried out night and day (Luke 18:1–8), gave everything they had (John 6:9), and boldly confronted the obstacles between them and the Kingdom of God.
This isn’t a polite faith. It’s not clean and measured and easy.
It’s violent—against everything that stands between us and Jesus: fear, shame, distraction, apathy, compromise. It’s a faith that doesn’t settle. It prays with groaning (Romans 8:18–27). It laments with honesty. It lays hold of God and says, “I will not let go unless You bless me.”
God isn’t offended by our desperation. He invites it.
“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” — Jeremiah 29:13
We were never called to spiritual neutrality. We were called to press in. Like Joshua and Caleb (Numbers 13:25–33), to see the promise and take it by force. To live as soldiers (2 Timothy 2:3–4), not civilians. To run our race with urgency (Hebrews 12:1).
T. Austin-Sparks said it well: “We must desperately mean business… The only way for us to come into all that the Lord means… is to be desperate, to be men of violence… ‘By God’s grace, nothing and no one, however good, is going to stand in my way; I am going on with God.’”
So let’s go on—with boldness. Let’s be people of spiritual violence. Let nothing and no one—however good—stand in our way. Let’s be so filled with Him that we hunger all the more.
How’s your walk with Christ going? Praying enough? Reading your Bible enough? Let me guess: probably not. Maybe you should try harder. Have you tried that? Going to church regularly? Dropping something in the offering plate? Sharing your faith? Sounds like you’re falling short of what a “good Christian” should be… Struggling with a particular sin? Why can’t you just get it under control? God must be pretty disappointed in you…
That, my friend, is the death spiral so many Christians find themselves caught in. You’ve probably been there—maybe you’re there now. You’re doing everything you can to get back to a place where you feel like God can be proud of you… like He might be happy to call you His child again.
But it feels impossible, doesn’t it?
That’s because it is. So stop trying. Give up. Throw in the towel.
Now, I know—giving up is easier said than done. Especially for those of us with Type-A tendencies. We like being in control. We like lists, goals, structure. We want to do the things we know we’re “supposed” to do.
But here’s the truth: The more you try, the less you transform.
It sounds backward, I know. But the more effort you pour in, the more you’re relying on your flesh. And your flesh isn’t supposed to be in charge anymore—it’s supposed to die.
You have a new life now, and it’s infinitely better.
Paul told the Corinthians they were acting “merely human” in their division and jealousy (1 Corinthians 3:4). And we might wonder—”what else were they supposed to be?”
Well, your human life came from your human parents. They passed on their nature, and you became a living, breathing person. But if you’ve believed in Christ, you’ve received another life—a life from God. That life is the Holy Spirit within you. It is the life of Jesus Christ Himself.
That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. – John 3:6
Your old life—your human life—is already crucified with Jesus. But your new life in Christ is eternal, empowered by His Spirit.
16 From now on, therefore, we regard no one according to the flesh. Even though we once regarded Christ according to the flesh, we regard him thus no longer. 17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. – 2 Corinthians 5:16-17
…since you have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God. – 1 Peter 1:23
So why do we keep going back to our old life for answers? Why do we keep trying to live the Christian life in our own strength?
I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. – Galatians 2:20
If we could earn God’s approval through our own effort, Jesus didn’t need to die. His sacrifice would have been unnecessary. “I’ve got this, Jesus. Thanks, but I’ll take it from here.”
I do not nullify the grace of God, for if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose. – Galatians 2:21
Of course, we’d never say that out loud. But our actions often say it for us.
This is the same trap Adam and Eve fell into. In the Garden, they had a choice: The Tree of Life or The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.
And like them, we often pick the second. We want control. We want to define good and evil for ourselves. We want to draw the lines and manage our lives our way.
But that path leads to death. And we’re still eating from that same tree today.
It looks noble. It even feels responsible. But it’s lifeless. That way is doomed.
Jesus came as the new Tree of Life, offering something the other tree never can. And if you’ve believed in Him, His Life is already in you. The seed of His life has been planted—so water it! Stop turning to that other tree. It belongs to your old nature.
You’re not a human anymore. You are a child of God. You have his nature! (2 Peter 1:4) You are Spirit. (1 Corinthians 6:17) You are His temple—His home. (1 Corinthians 6:19)
He calls you holy, blameless, and above reproach. (Colossians 1:21-22) He has already justified you and even glorified you. (Romans 8:28-30) He adopted you as His child and made you an heir alongside Christ. Through His Spirit, you cry out: “Abba! Father!” (Galatians 4:4-7)
Now—you may not feel like that’s true.
But that’s because you’re still looking at yourself.
God sees you through Jesus. And He is well pleased with His Son.
So, look to Him. Behold Christ. Take your eyes off yourself. That’s where true transformation begins. (2 Corinthians 3:18)
The enemy wants your focus anywhere but Jesus. He wants to blind you, distract you, discourage you. (2 Corinthians 4:4)
So fix your eyes on Christ and let His life take over.
As my friend Frank Viola said at a recent conference: “The Christian life is about becoming who you already are.”
You become what you behold.
So behold Jesus. Christ in you—that’s your hope of glory. (Colossians 1:27) You won’t find it by striving. Quit trying… And start trusting.
We’ve all heard the line “I am just a sinner saved by grace.” But how true is that? If you are saved, are you still a sinner? I’m going to attempt to persuade you that this is more than just semantics. How we think about our identity has tangible impacts in our lived-out reality. If you are a child of God, you have been made holy. You are holy because He is holy. If you’re a saint, a sinner you ain’t.
BODY OF CHRIST
“And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him…” Colossians 1:21-22 ESV
When we come to Christ, we are made part of his church which is his body (1 Corinthians 12:27, Colossians 1:24, Ephesians 1:23). We are made one with Christ (1 Corinthians 6:17, John 17:21-23, Galatians 3:27). Is Christ divided? Can Christ be tainted? No. To call ourselves “sinners” is to insult the very body of our Lord. He chose us and made us holy and blameless (Ephesians 1:4, Colossians 1:21-22). Sin is the enemy of God (Genesis 4:7, 1 Peter 5:8, James 4:4, John 8:44). You cannot be an enemy of God and a part of Christ’s body at the same time.
IDENTITY
“…Even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him. In love he predestined us for adoption to himself as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will…” Ephesians 1:4-5 ESV
You become who you claim to be. As Michael Kruger wrote: “We might think that the best way to appreciate the depth of our sin is to think of ourselves primarily in the category of “sinners.” But this can actually have the opposite effect. If we think of ourselves only as “sinners” then our sins are seen as something rather ordinary and inevitable. They are just the result of who we are. Sure, we wish we didn’t sin. But that’s just what “sinners” do.”
Indeed, our perspective is a powerful thing. It’s the basis by which you see the whole world around you. Everything is relative to that outlook. And so, as a believer, which perspective should you adopt? A perspective that gazes only in the rearview mirror, looking at what you were before Christ (1 Corinthians 6:11)? Or should you focus on your new life, your new identity in Him (2 Corinthians 5:17)? That new identity is an adopted child of God (John 1:12, Galatians 4:5-6, Ephesians 1:4-5). My old identity has been buried, my new identity has been raised with Him (Romans 6:4-11) and seated with Him in the heavenly places (Ephesians 2:6).
NEW LIFE
“As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father: so he that eateth me, even he shall live by me.” John 6:57 KJV
Life in Christ is true life, life that never ends (John 11:25, John 14:6). To refer to yourself as a sinner is to remain in your broken, fallen, former life. We are to die to that life, and live by His life (John 6:57, 2 Corinthians 13:4, Colossians 3:4, 1 John 5:12-13).
This new life is a gift (Romans 6:23)! We have been delivered from the kingdom of darkness and transferred to the kingdom of His beloved Son (Colossians 1:13). What if when God freed the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, no one actually got up and left? That’s how it is with us when we refuse to put off the bonds of the kingdom of darkness.
I can speak to the problems that arise when you try to live by your own willpower. Even when you’re trying to do “good” things, if you’re not doing it through Christ’s life, you are doomed to fail. Even Jesus himself couldn’t live the life he lived as a man on his own (John 5:19-20). He even told someone who referred to him as “Good Teacher” not to call him good (Mark 10:18)!
To try to pursue the “Christian life” on our own is eating from the wrong tree—the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. There were two opposing trees in Garden of Eden, and we know which tree Adam and Eve chose. Thankfully, the Tree of Life has returned in the form of Christ, and we have been invited again to eat of that tree (John 6:57).
Do we point to Paul in Romans 7:14-25 to justify a basis for a sinner’s identity? Is the same man who said “it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20) really saying that he does the things he hates? No, there must be something else here. Paul knew how to live by the indwelling life of Christ (Romans 8:9-11, 1 Corinthians 15:10, Philippians 2:13). He surrendered to the lordship of Christ. The answer to this seeming conundrum is stated in Romans 7:20 – “Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.” Paul is describing an inner struggle, but it’s a struggle between his new identity in Christ and an imposter—the sin that is part of the old life. His true identity is now opposed to his old life. The enemy will win a battle here and there, but that will not change his identity. As Franz Delitzsch said: “the Ego is no longer one with sin—it is free from it; sin resides in such a man still, only as a foreign power.”
The old life, that foreign power, will continue to plague us until the end. But we die more and more to our old life as we grow into His new life (Galatians 2:20). When the enemy does get the upper hand, our brothers and sisters pick us up and we put that part on the cross and take another step forward in His grace. May we never accept that old life as part of who we are. When we come to Christ, he makes us a new person, a new species even! We are a brand new creation in Him (2 Corinthians 5:16-17) and we become partakers of the divine nature (2 Peter 1:4). We have been freed from the bonds of sin (Romans 6:17-18). Don’t base your identity with the enemy! A sinner is something you were (1 Corinthians 6:11), not something you are. We are sanctified, justified, and have peace with God through Christ Jesus (Romans 5:1). Present your lives to him for transformation (Romans 12:1-2), and let Him renew you more and more every day (Colossians 3:10). That’s where you’ll find your true identity.
“Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.” (Philippians 4:8) This is hard enough to do for ourselves, so how can we start to train our children to do this as well? As adults there are many things that can distract us from focusing on the good like ungodly relationships, being overly busy, social media, television, work, ambition, etc.
Our children see and know what our priorities are, and the things that are important to us will likely become important to them too. We can’t expect them to think on good things if we don’t also. One thing we can do is place things, people, and opportunities in our lives and theirs for them to see God all around.
The main job of a child is play. It is through play that they explore their world around them, learn language, imagine, and work out in their minds social scenarios. Things like being too busy or constantly behind a screen can steal these opportunities. I have sat often at this computer with my daughter behind me playing Barbies. She sets her Barbies in a circle and the teacher asks her students what song they want to sing before they break out into “The Army Song.” She imitates worshipping God! I also hear the adult Barbies admonishing the kids for kindness. My son explores the behaviors of his goats and tries to teach them fairness (doesn’t usually set in). He sees the instinctual behaviors in the mothers to care for their young and is able to compare how that is like how God cares for us, or maybe how it isn’t. Give your children free time to search for and follow God. They might be bored at first, but then they will discover the wonder and beauty of the imagination God gave them and with such explore and find God. Books often paint images of who God is in ways our kids can understand and can initiate dialogue for us to teach our kids. We have many we are willing to share!
A week ago a number of us got together for a family game night. I saw my son live his dream of many of his role models playing kickball with him and his friends. I saw a friend’s child’s face freeze when he got struck out and saw him contemplating how he should respond. I saw adults who weren’t his parents encourage him, tell him he did a good job, but also gently draw him back to home plate to await his next turn which he decided to do so proudly. Surround your children with people who will unveil Christ in their actions, admonishments, and encouragements and who will always lead them home to Him! Fill their lives and yours with people who are kind, gracious, and who give God glory with their lives.
As a homeschool mom, I feel tremendous pressure to make sure my kids aren’t missing out on valuable opportunities they have in public school. I want them to learn music, sports, art, be well socialized, all the things! But more important than that is the opportunities they have to see and experience Jesus and being a disciple. This needs to be more than just a Sunday thing if we want Jesus to be Lord over their whole life. Give them opportunities to serve others or even animals. Encourage them to care for others, check in on them, plan gifts, write cards. Take time to share where you see Jesus together. He’s with us at each moment and He loves our children so much! Let them see Him with them at each moment. Teach them that He is with them when they face each giant.
Casting all their cares upon Him will be so much easier if they have seen Him all around, if they have experienced His love and presence through others, through His creation, and through each moment of their days.
