Daily Reflections From God's Word

Tag: jesus

  • The Plastic Chair Was Never the Problem

    Key Scripture:
    “And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” — John 8:32 (NKJV)
    “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” — Romans 12:2b (NKJV)

    I came across an image recently that caught me off guard—and convicted me more than I’d like to admit.

    It was a horse. Big, strong, muscular. But it was standing still, tied by a rope to a flimsy plastic lawn chair. That horse could’ve broken free without even trying. But it didn’t. Not because it couldn’t—but because it believed it was bound.

    And right then, I saw myself.

    For the past month, I’ve allowed distractions to pull me away from the very disciplines that gave me life—prayer, time in the Word, pouring truth into others through every platform God gave me. One small excuse turned into a week. One neglected moment of prayer turned into silence. Then came the guilt. The disappointment. The rope.

    Not one of those things—distraction, laziness, or even failure—was stronger than my calling or the presence of God in my life. But somewhere in my head, I gave them that power. I started believing that I had to feel on fire to be faithful. I told myself I needed to wait until I was inspired, until life calmed down, until I “got it together.”

    But that was the rope talking. That was the plastic chair.

    Jesus didn’t die and rise again to set us halfway free. The bondage we face now isn’t always external. Sometimes, it’s just a lie we’ve believed for too long.

    And that’s where the real battle is won: not just by cutting the rope—but by renewing the mind that believed it held us.

    Romans 12:2 doesn’t say we’re transformed by doing better. It says we’re transformed by the renewing of our mind. That’s where it starts. That’s where the chair loses its grip.

    So here I am—coming back to the things I’ve neglected. Not because I feel worthy, but because I now see the truth. The enemy will try to convince us we’re too far gone. That God’s disappointed. That we’re disqualified.

    But listen to me: that chair has no power.

    The truth is that God is waiting—not with condemnation, but with open arms.
    The truth is that freedom isn’t earned, it’s claimed.
    The truth is that your calling doesn’t evaporate when you get distracted.
    It waits—right where you left it.

    Reflection Questions:

    1. What lies have I believed about myself that are keeping me tied down?
    2. Where have I allowed distractions to become spiritual chains?
    3. What truth do I need to replace those lies with today?

    Closing Prayer:
    Father, I confess that I’ve allowed myself to become entangled in lies and distractions. I’ve believed the rope was real, even when You’ve already given me freedom. Help me today to renew my mind—to replace the lies with truth. I want to walk in the freedom Jesus died to give me. Pull me back into the disciplines I’ve neglected, and meet me in that place. I’m coming home. In Jesus’ name, amen.

  • Nearer Than You’ve Ever Dreamed

    Fifteen years ago, I received a phone call from a friend in what I can only describe as a full-blown spiritual crisis. Through tears and strained silence, she confessed things she thought disqualified her from God’s presence: sexual sin, rebellion, alcohol abuse, and a string of regrets. Her voice cracked as she asked, “Does God even see me anymore? Can He still hear me?”

    Truth be told, I didn’t have the right words in that moment. So I did what I always do when I feel helpless—I prayed, then turned to Scripture. The story of the prodigal son in Luke 15:11-32 brought comfort. That image of a father running to his broken, returning son never fails to bring me to tears.

    Later, I picked up Max Lucado’s Come Thirsty, and this fictional yet spiritually potent scene caught my eye. Jesse, a Christ-figure, finds Meagan in a cafe. She’s exhausted, emotionally wrecked, and burdened by shame. She spills out her story—a series of poor choices that left her feeling used and discarded. Then she asks: “Where’s God in all this?”

    Jesse leans in and replies, “Nearer than you’ve ever dreamed.”

    This is the heart of the gospel.

    Psalm 34:18 (NKJV) declares,

    “The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit.”

    And Isaiah 55:6-7 (NKJV) urges,

    “Seek the Lord while He may be found, call upon Him while He is near. Let the wicked forsake his way… and He will have mercy… for He will abundantly pardon.”

    We serve a God who draws near to the broken.

    Not just the polished or the cleaned-up.

    Not just the Sunday best version.

    But the tear-streaked, regret-heavy, “I’m barely holding it together” version.

    Maybe this is you today. Maybe you’re wondering, like my friend once did, if God still sees you. If He’s still listening. Let me remind you: He is. He always has been.

    He is nearer than you’ve ever dreamed.

    When have you felt far from God? What reminded you of His nearness?

    Share your story below. Someone else might need your honesty today.

  • When Obedience Makes No Sense: Marching Through the Impossible

    Scripture focus: “You will not need to fight in this battle. Position yourselves, stand still and see the salvation of the Lord…” (2 Chronicles 20:17, NKJV)

    The Bible is packed with stories that, if we’re being honest, sound like they should’ve ended in disaster. People facing impossible odds, following battle plans that would never fly in a military strategy room—and somehow walking away victorious. Why? Because God was the one calling the shots.

    Let’s start at the Red Sea. The children of Israel—more than 600,000 men, plus women and children—had finally escaped Egypt. But they were trapped between the uncrossable Red Sea and Pharaoh’s pursuing army. No weapons. No escape route. No time. But instead of rallying the people to arms, Moses said something crazy: “Stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord” (Exodus 14:13). Then God parted the waters. The people walked through on dry land. And when Pharaoh’s army followed, the sea closed in behind them.

    That’s not strategy. That’s sovereignty.

    And then there’s Jericho. A fortified city with high walls and strong defenses. Any human general would’ve planned a siege. But God gave Joshua a blueprint that sounded like a children’s game: walk around the city once a day for six days in total silence. Then on the seventh day, march around seven times. Blow the trumpets. Shout. That’s 13 total laps around the city.

    Now pause for a second. The number 13 has a bad reputation. The world calls it unlucky. Some elevators skip the 13th floor. People talk about Friday the 13th like it’s cursed. But let this sink in: God used 13 laps—that “unlucky” number—to bring down the walls of one of the strongest cities in the Promised Land.

    Let the world call it bad luck. We call it divine design.

    It doesn’t stop there. Gideon started with 32,000 men to fight the Midianites. But God trimmed it down to 10,000… then just 300 men—armed not with swords, but with trumpets, torches, and clay pitchers. Judges 7:12 says the enemy was “as numerous as locusts; and their camels… as the sand by the seashore.” That’s not just outnumbered. That’s outmatched, overwhelmed, and underqualified. Yet by God’s hand, victory came anyway.

    Over and over we see it:

    • Hezekiah and the Assyrian army (2 Kings 19)
    • Jehoshaphat against the armies of Moab and Ammon (2 Chronicles 20)
    • Daniel in the lion’s den (Daniel 6)
    • Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego in the fiery furnace (Daniel 3)

    These aren’t just Bible stories—they’re testimonies. Reminders that when obedience seems foolish, God’s power is often just moments away.

    I don’t know what kind of battle you’re facing today. Maybe you’re on lap 11 or 12, and nothing’s changed. The walls are still there. The enemy still looms. The fear is still whispering in your ear. But let me say this:

    Don’t quit before lap 13.

    Don’t let the world define your “unlucky” situation. Let God redeem it for His glory. Maybe you feel like the underdog—like Gideon. Or maybe you’ve been marching silently like Joshua, wondering if your obedience even matters. It does. It always does.

    And when you’re tired? When quitting seems easier than continuing? Remember the words of Jehaziel in 2 Chronicles 20:17, “Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord.” Or David’s bold declaration to Goliath in 1 Samuel 17:47, “The battle is the Lord’s.” Or the simple, powerful invitation from Psalm 46:10: “Be still, and know that I am God.”

    There’s a song from the Imperials—recorded back in 1979—that still speaks:

    Praise the Lord, for the chains that seem to bind you
    Serve only to remind you
    That they drop powerless behind you
    When you praise Him.

    Chains look real. Walls feel permanent. But God? He specializes in things that don’t make sense.

    Reflection Questions:

    1. Have you ever obeyed God when it didn’t make sense? What happened?
    2. Are you on a “lap” right now where quitting feels easier than trusting?
    3. What walls are you facing today that need a God-sized breakthrough?

    Final Encouragement:
    Obedience may not feel powerful—but it positions us to see God’s power clearly. Don’t stop short. Don’t buy the world’s definition of what’s “lucky” or “logical.” If He brought you to it, He’s more than able to bring you through it.

    Keep marching. Lap 13 is coming.

  • When Broken Becomes Beautiful

    Scripture: “The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit.” – Psalm 34:18 (NKJV)

    Some endings hit so hard, the air gets knocked clean out of your lungs. That’s what last night felt like. The weight of a failing marriage… the kind of grief that doesn’t come with a clean break, just a slow unraveling. I thought I’d already cried the hard tears—but somehow, there were more.

    In that place, I heard a song that spoke truth straight to the rawest part of me. “The bright side of being broken is a heart that’s busted open.”

    At first, I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to look for silver linings—I wanted restoration. Reconciliation. But the more I listened, the more I realized something powerful: broken doesn’t mean abandoned. In fact, it might be where God does His most beautiful work.

    God doesn’t avoid our mess. He meets us in it.

    Psalm 34:18 isn’t just comfort—it’s a promise. Jesus draws near to the brokenhearted. That means He’s not waiting for us to fix ourselves up. He moves into the ruins and begins to build something new—not from polished perfection, but from broken pieces.

    So if your life feels shattered, you’re not disqualified from grace—you’re a prime candidate. If everything feels like it’s ending, maybe that’s the very place God begins something eternal.

    Reflection Questions:

    • What part of your life feels broken right now?
    • Can you invite Jesus into that space instead of hiding it?
    • What could “the bright side of broken” look like for you?

    Prayer:
    Lord, I don’t like feeling broken. I’d rather be healed, restored, and whole. But if broken is the door You walk through to reach me, then here I am—wide open. Step into the wreckage, Lord, and do what only You can. Amen.

  • When Gentleness Is Strength

    The world teaches us to shout. Social media rewards sarcasm. Boardrooms reward dominance. Even in the Church, we sometimes applaud power over humility. But here’s a truth I’ve carried since I was a teen—a quote clipped from an old newspaper:

    “In a time when everything is thought to be had by intimidation, gentleness still has amazing strength. It has never been wise to underestimate the person who has compassion and understanding and the gift of showing it.

    Hard talk is not a sign of superior ability, but it does show a weakness in character. The need to put someone else down in hopes of looking good reveals a deficient personality.

    Few can resist the power of communication, the gentle friendliness of making everyone feel they are a part of the rank and order. Teamwork has always been about mutual respect, a show of confidence, and a willingness to help. If we lose the gentle touch, we lose control, and little else counts from that point on.”

    The Bible backs that up. Gentleness isn’t weakness—it’s one of the nine traits that prove the Holy Spirit is working in our lives:

    “But the fruit of the Spirit is… kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.” (Galatians 5:22–23, NKJV)

    It’s not optional. It’s evidence.

    A second line from that quote drives it home:

    “Hard talk is not a sign of superior ability, but it does show a weakness in character.”

    There’s a reason Scripture tells us:

    “A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” (Proverbs 15:1, NKJV)

    Gentleness is the secret ingredient that holds marriages together, creates harmony in ministry teams, and cultivates respect in leadership. When it’s missing, trust breaks. Communication dies. Influence shrinks.

    Jesus modeled it perfectly. In Matthew 11:29, He invites us to learn from Him:

    “Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (NKJV)

    If the Son of God could walk in gentleness while carrying all authority in heaven and earth—what’s our excuse?

    Ask Yourself Today:

    • Do I speak to win arguments or to build people up?
    • When I’m leading, am I inviting or intimidating?
    • Where can I choose kindness over control?

    Prayer:
    Lord, grow in me the strength to be gentle. Let Your Spirit bear that fruit in my life—in how I speak, how I lead, and how I love. Amen.

  • When I’m Not in Control

    “And He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me… For when I am weak, then I am strong.” II Corinthians 12:9–10 (NKJV)

    I don’t like not being in control.

    If I’m in the car, I’d rather be the one driving. At work, I want to be the guy coordinating the chaos, managing the details, keeping the wheels turning. At home, I like being the one with the answers—the calm in the storm. The strong one.

    But sometimes, life makes it painfully clear that I’m not meant to run the show.

    There are moments when I have to admit someone else should take the lead. Times I don’t have the answers. Days I can’t fix what’s broken. And those moments sting. They make me feel exposed and unsteady—like I’m failing somehow.

    But here’s the truth I’m learning: That space—where I feel powerless and uncomfortable—is often exactly where God wants me. Not because He delights in my weakness, but because it’s there that I’m finally available.

    When I stop relying on my own strength, God can show up with His.

    Paul understood this. He didn’t pretend weakness was easy or desirable—but he recognized its purpose. He came to see his limitations not as obstacles, but as opportunities for Christ to move through him.

    We can’t experience God’s sufficiency until we admit our own lack. When we insist on staying in control, we leave little room for the Spirit to work. But when we surrender, when we confess, “Lord, I can’t do this alone”—that’s when grace rushes in.

    You may be in a season where you feel like you’re supposed to have it all figured out. Maybe you’re leading others, managing a household, carrying emotional burdens you don’t talk about. You’re worn out, but still gripping the wheel, because it feels safer than letting go.

    Can I lovingly challenge you today? Let go.

    God isn’t asking you to be invincible. He’s asking you to be available.

    And that starts with vulnerability. With honesty. With that simple but powerful prayer: “God, I need You.”

    Letting go of control doesn’t mean you’re giving up. It means you’re giving it over—to the One who never loses His grip.

    Reflection Questions:

    • What areas of your life are you struggling to release control over?
    • What would it look like to surrender those to God today?
    • Can you think of a time when your weakness became a platform for God’s strength?

    Prayer:
    Father, I confess that I like being in control. I like feeling strong, capable, and in charge. But I know that real strength comes from You—not from me. Help me to release the areas I’ve been gripping too tightly. Teach me to trust You more than I trust myself. Use my weakness for Your glory. In Jesus’ name, amen.

  • Broken But Not Bitter: Returning to God When Life Hurts

    Broken But Not Bitter: Returning to God When Life Hurts

    Brokenness isn’t a matter of if—it’s a matter of when. Every one of us lives long enough to experience it: a friend walks away, a promise goes unfulfilled, a prayer goes unanswered. Life hits hard sometimes, and when it does, we don’t just end up with broken circumstances—we end up with broken expectations, broken trust, even broken hearts.

    Henri Nouwen put it like this:

    “Our life is full of brokenness—broken relationships, broken promises, broken expectations. How can we live with that brokenness without becoming bitter and resentful except by returning again and again to God’s faithful presence in our lives?”

    Bitterness is the natural outcome of unhealed brokenness.

    It settles in quietly.

    You start building walls instead of bridges.

    You stop expecting good things from God—or people.

    You stop praying like you used to.

    You stop returning.

    But here’s the invitation of the gospel: Come back. Again. And again. And again.

    God is not weary of your return. He doesn’t count how many times you’ve had to start over. He just wants your heart. Even if it’s still bleeding.

    “The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit.” (Psalm 34:18, NKJV)

    “Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.” (Lamentations 3:22–23, NKJV)

    Your brokenness doesn’t disqualify you—it’s what draws His nearness. If you feel weary, distant, or numb… don’t run from God. Run to Him. Take the broken pieces and lay them before the only One who can turn ashes into beauty and mourning into joy.

    This isn’t about fixing yourself. It’s about trusting the God who still draws near, even when your heart’s in pieces.

    So here’s today’s reflection:

    • What broken pieces are you still carrying?
    • Have they hardened you—or humbled you?
    • What’s one way you can return to God’s faithful presence right now?

    You’re not too far gone. You’re not too broken. You’re just one return away from restoration.

  • Happiness vs Joy – There Is a Difference

    In a 2014 sermon, Victoria Osteen told her audience that “God wants you to be happy.” The sentiment seems harmless. After all, what parent doesn’t want their child to be happy?

    But there’s a problem when happiness is confused with joy.

    The two words are similar in definition, but completely different in application. And for believers, that distinction makes all the difference in the world.

    Merriam-Webster defines:

    • Happiness as “a state of well-being and contentment.”
    • Joy as “the emotion evoked by well-being, success, or the prospect of possessing what one desires.”

    The Bible supports this distinction. Happiness is mentioned only 25 times. Joy appears over 165 times—and it’s often tied to hardship.

    • “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5)
    • “They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.” (Psalm 126:5)
    • “I will turn their mourning into joy, and will comfort them.” (Jeremiah 31:13)

    Joy is not the absence of sorrow—it’s the presence of hope.

    It’s the deep, inner assurance that God is with us, that He is for us, and that His promises are true even when life is falling apart. That’s why joy is still possible even in grief.

    That definition—“the prospect of possessing what one desires”—rings especially true for the Christian life. When our desire is God Himself, then joy becomes our constant companion, no matter what storms roll in.

    Happiness can come from circumstances.
    Joy comes from Christ.

    Happiness is a state of mind.
    Joy is a state of being.

    We can live without temporary happiness if we’re filled with eternal joy. And that’s what I choose.

    I choose joy. Do you?

  • The Blessing of the Unworthy

    It’s a quiet lie most Christians carry: “I know God blesses… but I’m not really worthy of it.”

    We’ve stumbled. We’ve failed. And some days, the weight of our past makes us believe God’s goodness is for other people—the strong, the clean, the spiritual. But not for us.

    Yet the truth is clear: He blesses the unworthy because He loves us.

    Scripture doesn’t hide the flaws of God’s people:

    • Noah got drunk after surviving the flood (Genesis 9:21).
    • Abraham lied about Sarah twice to save his own skin (Genesis 12 & 20).
    • Jacob schemed and tricked his own brother (Genesis 27).
    • David, a man after God’s own heart, committed adultery and murder (2 Samuel 11).
    • Elijah—after calling down fire from heaven—wanted to die (1 Kings 19:4).
    • Peter tried to stop Christ’s arrest with a sword (John 18:10), then denied Him three times (Luke 22:61).

    They weren’t strong. They weren’t clean. They weren’t perfect.

    But they were chosen.

    Because God doesn’t call the worthy. He makes the called worthy through Christ.

    “Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us…” – Titus 3:5 (NKJV)

    “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NKJV)

    Friend, if you’ve fallen, you’re not disqualified—you’re a candidate for grace. If you’ve failed, you’re in the company of every great hero of faith. If you feel unworthy… you’re exactly where His love can reach you.

    Reflection question: What lie has the enemy whispered that keeps you from accepting God’s blessing? What part of your past still makes you feel disqualified?

    You may feel unworthy. But He blesses you anyway—because of who He is, not because of what you’ve done.

  • Letting Go of Everything—Except Faith

    Scripture Focus: [17] Though the fig tree may not blossom, Nor fruit be on the vines; Though the labor of the olive may fail, And the fields yield no food; Though the flock may be cut off from the fold, And there be no herd in the stalls— [18] Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation. [19] The Lord God is my strength; He will make my feet like deer’s feet, And He will make me walk on my high hills. Habakkuk 3:17–19 (NKJV)

    Life has a way of stripping you bare. Of peeling away the layers until all you’re left with is the core of who you are and what you believe.

    I wrote this reflection in one of the hardest seasons of my life—during the first separation from my wife. My world had come crashing down around me. And while praying one night, God reminded me that everything in this world is temporary:

    • Homes
    • Jobs
    • Health
    • Even the people we love

    It can all change in a moment. A diagnosis, an accident, a broken vow. And I found myself praying, “Lord, give me the heart of Job. Teach me to say, ‘Blessed be Your name,’ even when I lose what I love.”

    That prayer led me back to a memory from college. A class called Philosophy of Life, where we studied great thinkers—Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Kant, and others—against the backdrop of Scripture. But it was an assignment called The Process of Dying that shook me.

    We had to imagine we had just six months to live and slowly let go of what mattered most. I remember my last four:

    1. Family
    2. My wife
    3. My Bible
    4. My faith

    In the end, I let go of everything but my faith. I couldn’t let it go. Because when your body is failing, when your mind is clouded by grief, when the pages of your Bible feel too heavy to turn—faith remains.

    That exercise taught me something I never forgot:
    Stuff doesn’t last. Faith does.

    “Though the fig tree may not blossom…yet I will rejoice in the Lord.”
    “The Lord God is my strength.”

    Faith doesn’t ignore the pain. It transcends it.

    So, here’s my question for you today:
    If you had to let go of everything—what would remain?
    Would your faith be enough to sustain you in your darkest hour?

    Because when all is stripped away, that’s when you find out what you really believe.

    And if your faith is in Christ, I promise you—it will be enough.