Few books capture the darkness of the human heart as starkly as William Golding’s Lord of the Flies. For many of us, it was required reading in high school English class, one of those books almost everyone was assigned at some point. The novel tells the story of a group of British schoolboys stranded on an uninhabited island after a plane crash. At first, things seem hopeful. They organize themselves, establish rules, and try to build a little civilization of their own. A conch shell becomes their symbol of authority, calling meetings and enforcing civility.
But as time passes, that structure begins to collapse. Fear replaces reason. The imagined threat of a lurking beast stirs paranoia. What begins as rivalry turns into cruelty, and eventually into violence. The rules lose their power, the conch is shattered, and the boys descend into chaos. When they are finally rescued, they are horrified by what they have become.
Golding’s conclusion is bleak. He is offering an evaluation of the human condition. Strip away external restraints, and humanity cannot sustain goodness. No matter how hard we try, no matter what structures we put in place, there is something deeply broken within us. Given enough time and freedom, our darker impulses rise to the surface. The struggle for goodness over evil inside the human heart seems endless and, ultimately, unwinnable.
That conclusion resonates because it feels honest. Most people, whether religious or not, recognize the conflict within themselves. There is the person we want to be and the person we actually are. There is a desire for goodness alongside of a pull toward selfishness. There is a longing to do what is right and a stubborn tendency to do what we know is wrong.
Scripture acknowledges this struggle, but it does not leave us where Golding does. Romans 7 goes deeper into that inner struggle and then points us to the only true source of hope.
In Romans 7:14–25, the apostle Paul describes an intense inner battle. He speaks of the struggle in very candid terms: “For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” (Romans 7:15). Anyone who has sincerely tried to live faithfully before God can recognize themselves in those words.
Paul describes a war within. He wants to do good, yet finds himself doing evil. He agrees with God’s law, yet feels the pull of sin. He says, “For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out” (Romans 7:18), and he sees “another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin” (Romans 7:23). All of this gives way to a desperate question: “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:24).
At first glance, Paul’s words sound very much like Golding’s conclusion. A never-ending struggle. A divided self. A sense of futility. But Paul is not writing a novel, and he is not offering a philosophical reflection. He is addressing the reality of sin and the limits of human effort.
Christians have long wrestled with this passage. Some understand Romans 7 as describing Paul’s life before conversion under the law. Others see it as the experience of Israel under the law. Still others understand it – describing the ongoing struggle believers experience while living in the flesh. However one understands the details, the reality of the inner conflict is undeniable. The question is not whether the struggle exists, but how it is resolved.
Now, the struggle itself is not unique to Christians. Every human being wrestles with conflicting desires. We all experience tension between what we know is right and what we are tempted to do. But there is a profound difference between the struggle of someone who belongs to Christ and the person who does not.
Before Paul became a Christian, he does not present himself as a man crushed by moral defeat. In Galatians, he speaks of his former life in Judaism with confidence: “I was persecuting the church of God violently and trying to destroy it… I was advancing in Judaism beyond many of my own age” (Galatians 1:13–14). In Philippians, he even calls himself “blameless” with respect to “righteousness under the law” (Philippians 3:6).
That is not the voice of a man who feels defeated. That is the voice of someone convinced he was doing well. What changed was not Paul’s personality or his moral seriousness. What changed was his relationship to Christ.
When Paul encountered the risen Lord and later submitted to Him in obedient faith, his life was transformed. Scripture describes this transformation: “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17). When we are united with Christ in His death and resurrection, our sins are forgiven and we begin a new life (Romans 6:3–4). Becoming a Christian does not remove the presence of temptation, but it does change our allegiance and direction.
This is why Paul can say: “For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh” (Romans 7:18). This is not self-deprecation but a sober self-assessment. Paul now sees himself honestly before a holy God. He recognizes that he has nothing to commend himself apart from Christ. His confidence has shifted away from his own righteousness and toward the grace made available through Jesus. This awareness brings anguish, but it also opens the door to hope.
Paul makes a crucial distinction 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” (Romans 7:20). He is not excusing sin or removing responsibility. He is highlighting the internal conflict between the desire to do right and the persistent power of sin. Whether describing life under the law or the ongoing tension believers feel in the flesh, Paul’s point is clear: human strength alone cannot win this battle. Deliverance must come from outside of us.
This is where Golding’s assessment reaches its limits. Lord of the Flies exposes the battle within the human heart, but it offers no Deliverer. Without Christ, the struggle between good and evil is hopeless. There is no final resolution. The best one can do is manage it, suppress it, or resign oneself to it. But Scripture does not end with despair.
Paul’s cry of anguish is immediately followed by a declaration of gratitude: “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:25). The question “Who will deliver me?” is not left unanswered. Deliverance comes through Jesus.
The Christian life is not without struggle. It is a life in which the struggle is met with grace and strength from God. Victory does not mean sinless perfection, but it does mean that sin no longer has to reign. Through Christ, we are freed from sin’s dominion and called to walk in newness of life (Romans 6:6–7).
This changes how believers view their ongoing battle. The presence of struggle is not evidence that faith is empty. In many cases, it is evidence that the conscience has been awakened and the heart desires righteousness. The discomfort we feel toward sin is not a sign that something has gone wrong, but just the opposite. We are being reshaped by the truth of God’s Word and His Spirit within.
The Christian mourns sin and rejoices in grace at the same time. Like Paul, we cry out in honesty and then lift our eyes in hope. Without Jesus, we cannot win the battle. But, with Him, as we walk faithfully in His light, the struggle will not have the final word. That is the hope of the gospel. And it is the hope that every Christian needs to hear.
Thessalon, ON
When it comes to our personal reading of the Bible, most of us have parts we find harder to get through. Certain prophecies can be challenging. Levitical laws can be confusing. But for a lot of people, the hardest parts of Scripture are the genealogies.
Long lists of names rarely feel compelling. Name follows name, and before long our eyes glaze over. And yet we know those genealogies are not there by accident. God does not waste ink. Every name and every generation is part of the story He has been telling from the beginning, a story of faithfulness and redemption that has never gone off track.
That is especially true of the genealogy that opens the New Testament. Matthew begins his Gospel this way: “The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham” (Matthew 1:1).
That opening line is deliberate. Before Matthew tells us what Jesus did, he wants us to understand who Jesus is and how He fits into the story God has been working out since the very beginning. So the question we need to ask is a simple one: What does a list of names reveal about God’s plan?
One of the first things this genealogy makes clear is that the Gospel is grounded in real history. Matthew is not dealing in symbols or abstractions. He is anchoring the story of Jesus in real people, real places, and real events. The Christian faith is not built on inspiring ideas or carefully crafted myths. It is built on what God has actually done in history.
Matthew traces Jesus’ lineage from Abraham through David, through the kings of Judah, through the exile, and finally to Joseph, “the husband of Mary, by whom Jesus was born, who is called the Messiah” (Matthew 1:16). These names represent real people who lived, struggled through real circumstances, and died.
What makes this especially striking is that many of these figures are not only known from Scripture, but also confirmed by archaeology. For example, a small clay seal impression, known as a bulla, has been discovered bearing the inscription, “Belonging to Hezekiah, son of Ahaz, king of Judah.” Those very names appear in Matthew’s genealogy: “Uzziah was the father of Jotham, Jotham the father of Ahaz, and Ahaz the father of Hezekiah” (Matthew 1:9).
Over the years, archaeologists have uncovered inscriptions, seals, city walls, and artifacts connected to people and places mentioned in the Bible. All of this reinforces Matthew’s point. He is not crafting a legend. He is presenting a record. He is saying that this actually happened.
That matters, especially in a culture that often treats faith as merely personal or subjective. People frequently say things like, “That may be true for you, but not for me.” Matthew’s genealogy challenges that way of thinking. It does not invite us to believe a comforting story. It confronts us with historical reality. God entered time and space. Jesus was born into a traceable family line, under real kings, in a world we can study and verify.
But this genealogy does more than ground the Gospel in history. It also shows us that God has been faithfully at work through that history across generations. When you look closely at Matthew 1, what you see is not just a record of births. You see a record of promises kept.
The genealogy begins with Abraham because that is where the promise takes on a clear covenant form. In Genesis 12, the Lord told Abram, “In you all the families of the earth will be blessed” (Genesis 12:3). That promise did not unfold quickly or easily. It stretched across centuries and generations.
That is why Matthew introduces Jesus as “the son of David, the son of Abraham” (Matthew 1:1). He is drawing a straight line from the covenant God made with Abraham, through the kingship of David, and ultimately to Christ.
Nearly two thousand years passed between God’s promise to Abraham and the birth of Jesus. During that time, God’s people experienced slavery in Egypt, exile in Babylon, and oppression under foreign powers. There were long stretches when it looked like God’s plan had stalled or failed. But it never did.
The genealogy in Matthew 1 is a living timeline of God’s faithfulness. Each name is another marker showing that God kept His word, step by step and generation after generation. Scripture reminds us, “For the Lord is good; His steadfast love endures forever, and His faithfulness to all generations” (Psalm 100:5). Even when God’s people were unfaithful, He remained faithful. Even when circumstances seemed to contradict His promises, God continued to move history forward according to His design.
As we continue through this genealogy, something else becomes clear. It is not only a record of God’s faithfulness, but also a window into the kind of people God chooses to work through. Matthew includes names that would not normally appear in a formal Jewish genealogy. He names several women, and not just any women, but women whose stories include pain, scandal, and brokenness.
He mentions Tamar, whose story involved injustice and desperate action (Matthew 1:3). He names Rahab, a Canaanite woman with a notorious past who trusted in the God of Israel (Matthew 1:5). He includes Ruth, a Moabite widow from a pagan nation who clung to Naomi and to the Lord (Matthew 1:5). And he refers to Bathsheba as “the wife of Uriah,” deliberately reminding us of David’s sin (Matthew 1:6).
Matthew did not have to include these names. The genealogy would have been legitimate without them. But he chose to include them because they make a point. The Messiah’s family tree is filled with outsiders, sinners, and broken people.
From the very beginning, God’s redemptive plan made room for grace. Jesus did not come from a flawless lineage. He came through real lives marked by failure and redemption. The Savior who would welcome sinners came from a line that already reflected that mission.
That is good news for all of us. Every one of us carries stories we would rather not see written down. And yet Matthew shows us that Jesus did not come in spite of those stories. He came through them. God’s grace transforms shame into redemption.
As Matthew brings the genealogy to a close, he draws our attention to its structure. He writes, “So all the generations from Abraham to David are fourteen generations; from David to the deportation to Babylon, fourteen generations; and from the deportation to Babylon to the Messiah, fourteen generations” (Matthew 1:17).
This structure is intentional. In the Hebrew way of thinking, numbers carried symbolic meaning. Fourteen is two sevens, and seven represents completeness and God’s finished work. Three sets of fourteen equal six sevens. That means when Jesus is born, He inaugurates the seventh seven. This is an astonishing claim!
In the Old Testament, the Year of Jubilee was meant to be a time when things were set right again. Debts were to be forgiven. Slaves were to be released. Land was to be returned. It was God’s way of reminding His people that everything ultimately belonged to Him and that He was the One who restores what has been broken (Leviticus 25:10). And yet, Israel never truly lived out the Jubilee as God intended. It remained an unfulfilled picture, a promise waiting for completion.
Matthew is telling us that in Jesus, that long-awaited fulfillment finally arrives. Jesus does not merely announce rest. He embodies it. He is the seventh seven! He is the true Sabbath and the ultimate Jubilee. In Him, debts are forgiven, captives are freed, and what was lost is restored.
That is why Jesus could stand in the synagogue and read, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me…to proclaim release to the captives…and to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord” (Luke 4:18–19). Then He closed the scroll and said, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:21).
In Him, rest is no longer something we wait for. It is something we receive. When Jesus says, “Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28), He is not offering a pause or a temporary relief. He is offering Himself.
So when we read this list of names, we are not just reading history. We are hearing an invitation. What began with Abraham and reached its fulfillment in Jesus now comes to us. Will we trust the God who has proven Himself faithful? Will we receive the grace He offers and find our rest in Him?
It was July 30, 1945, near the end of the Second World War, when the American battle cruiser USS Indianapolis was struck by a Japanese torpedo and sank within twelve minutes. About 1,200 men had been on board. Around 300 went down with the ship, and roughly 900 were left floating in the waters of the Pacific. For four days they drifted under the burning sun with no food, no water, and very little hope. When rescuers finally arrived, only 316 were still alive.
One of them, the ship’s senior medical officer, Captain Lewis Haynes, later described what he saw. “There was nothing I could do but try to keep the men from drinking the water. The sun was so hot and the ocean so clear, it looked good enough to drink. But when the young ones lost hope, they would drink the salt water, and they would go fast.”
Those who gave in and drank the salt water became delirious, then violent, and finally died. They thought it would satisfy them, but it only made their thirst worse.
It is hard to imagine that kind of thirst. Everywhere they looked there was water, but not a drop that could help them. And yet, in a very real way, that is what happens to countless souls in our world today. People are drinking deeply of everything this world offers, but they are still thirsty.
We are surrounded by abundance. Clean water flows from our taps. Food is easy to find. Life seems full of things that should satisfy us. But beneath the surface there is another kind of thirst that no amount of comfort or success can quench. God has placed in every human heart a longing meant to draw us to Him. It is a thirst of the soul, and if we ignore it, it will eventually destroy us.
That is the lesson we see in John 4, when Jesus meets a woman beside a well in Samaria.
Tired from His journey, Jesus sat down by a well around noon (John 4:6). A woman from the city came to draw water. It was unusual for someone to come alone at the hottest part of the day, but this woman was an outcast even among her own people. She had been married five times and was now living with a man who was not her husband. She came to the well at a time when no one else would be there. And yet that day she met the Savior.
When Jesus asked her for a drink, she was surprised: “How is it that You, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a Samaritan woman?” (John 4:9). Jesus used that moment to reveal her deeper need. He told her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is who says to you, ‘Give Me a drink,’ you would have asked Him, and He would have given you living water” (John 4:10).
At first she misunderstood. She thought He was talking about the water in the well. But Jesus made it clear: “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him shall never thirst; but the water that I will give will become in him a fountain of water springing up to eternal life” (John 4:13–14).
Jesus was speaking about the life that only He can give: the life that satisfies the soul.
Just as the sailors thought salt water would quench their thirst, this woman had been drinking spiritual salt water all her life. She had been trying to satisfy her heart through relationships, but none of them could fill the emptiness inside. When Jesus told her, “Go call your husband,” He was not trying to shame her. He was showing her the truth. She had been looking in the wrong places for what only God could give.
That is what sin does to all of us. It convinces us that the things of this world, can meet the deepest needs of our hearts. But no matter how much we drink from those sources, they only leave us thirstier than before.
People today still drink from the same salt water. Some turn to money and possessions. Others to entertainment, approval, or pleasure. Some try to fill the void with work, with image, or endless distraction. All of it promises refreshment, but none of it truly satisfies. It looks clear and inviting, but it cannot give life.
Jesus said, “Whoever drinks the water I give will never thirst.” The living water He offers is not temporary satisfaction. It is eternal life. It is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, the presence of God that renews and sustains the soul. When we come to Christ in faith, He places within us “a well of water springing up to eternal life” (John 4:14).
To drink that water is to receive what only He can give. It means admitting that our own wells have run dry and that our best efforts to fill the void have failed. It means believing that Jesus is the Son of God and that only in Him can we find life. The gospel of John was written for that very reason, “so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name” (John 20:31). This is the greatest truth in the universe. Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and through Him we can have life.
Another thing that makes this account in John 4 so remarkable is who He chose to reveal this truth to. He did not first make this declaration to a ruler, a scholar, or a religious leader. He spoke it to a Samaritan woman, a person others had written off, someone the world would have overlooked.
That is what grace looks like. Jesus meets people where they are. He met her at the well, and He still meets people the same way. He still offers living water to anyone who will ask. He still calls us to turn away from the salt water of this world and come to Him for true life.
In John 7:37–38, Jesus said, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. The one who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, ‘From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water.’”
That is the invitation of the gospel. The world offers many things that seem to bring life, but they cannot. Only Jesus gives the living water that truly satisfies. Only He can quench the thirst of the human soul.
What He said to the woman at the well, He says to us, “If you knew the gift of God, you would have asked, and He would have given you living water.” The gift is still being offered. The fountain is still open. Each of us must decide what water we will drink. The salt water of the world, or the living water of Christ which gives life forever.
With the Thanksgiving holiday just around the corner, many of us will gather with family and friends to share a meal and reflect on the good things in our lives. It is a simple holiday compared to others. It does not come with a lot of baggage, marketing campaigns, or pressure to spend inordinate amounts of money. It just sets aside a day to remember what we have and to be thankful.
But here is a question: why do we need a holiday to remind us to be thankful? If thankfulness is so basic and so obvious, why do we so often forget it? The truth is, we live in a world that is very often thankless, and if we are honest, we all know this struggle within ourselves. We need to work at giving thanks. We need reminders. And the Bible gives them to us over and over again.
The Apostle Paul describes the heart of the problem in Romans 1:21: “For although they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God or give thanks to Him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened.” That is the indictment. Humanity has turned away from God, refusing to honor Him or give Him thanks. Without Christ, our hearts are darkened and we do not give the thanks that we should.
Without God, people are left to make sense of life in other ways. Some will say it is just luck or chance, and so there is no one to ultimately thank. Others believe everything is fixed by fate, but again there is no personal God behind it. And many simply give themselves the credit, convinced their success is the result of their own strength and skill. But none of that produces genuine thankfulness. It either becomes a shallow expression that does not last, or it turns into bitterness when life does not go as planned.
That is the reality of life apart from Christ. But for the Christian, things are different. We know who God is, and we know where our thanks belong. We are given a clear picture of this in Luke 7:36–50.
Jesus was invited to dinner by Simon the Pharisee (Luke 7:36). As they ate, a woman known in the city for her sinful life came in. Overcome with emotion, she wept at His feet, washing them with her tears, wiping them with her hair, kissing them, and pouring out costly perfume (Luke 7:37–38). It was an uncomfortable scene, even offensive to some who were present.
Simon’s reaction tells us a lot. He silently questioned Jesus. If He were truly a prophet, surely He would know what kind of woman this was. Surely He would not let her touch Him (Luke 7:39). But Jesus knew Simon’s thoughts and told him a parable. Two men owed money. One owed five hundred denarii, the other fifty. Neither could pay, and both were forgiven. Which of them will love him more? Simon answered, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven” (Luke 7:41–43). Jesus told him he was right. Then He pointed to the woman’s actions as the proof of a heart overflowing with love because she knew she had been forgiven much (Luke 7:44–47).
This is a striking contrast. Simon had invited Jesus into his home but offered no water for His feet, no kiss of greeting, no oil for His head (Luke 7:44–46). His heart was proud and unthankful. He did not see his debt and he did not see the Savior. Outwardly religious, but inwardly cold.
The woman, on the other hand, saw her sin clearly. She knew her need, and she saw that Jesus was the answer. She held nothing back in her gratitude. Her tears, her perfume, her affection were all poured out freely. She was not calculating what others thought of her. She was moved by grace and responded with thankfulness that overflowed into worship.
This is what true thanksgiving looks like. It is not a polite word at the dinner table or a general feeling that things have gone well. It is not thanking fate or luck or ourselves. True thanksgiving comes when we realize the depth of our sin and the greatness of God’s mercy in Christ. When we see who Jesus is and what He has done for us, our response is love and gratitude that cannot be contained.
That is why Paul can command believers in 1 Thessalonians 5:18 to “give thanks in everything, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). Paul is not telling us to pretend that everything that happens to us is good. He is reminding us that in every circumstance God is present, faithful, and working for our ultimate good in Christ. That is why we can give thanks. In Ephesians 5:20, Paul calls us to be “always giving thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 5:20). Thanksgiving is not meant to be seasonal, but to be a way of life.
Of course, this does not come naturally. We still live in a fallen world. We still wrestle with sin and distraction. That is why we need reminders. That is why we return again and again to passages like Luke 7. We need to see ourselves in that woman. We need to remember that our debt was real, and it was greater than we could ever repay. We also need to remember that Jesus is the one who has cancelled that debt and given us peace with God (Luke 7:48–50).
As we come to this Thanksgiving season, enjoy the meal and the gathering of family. Take time to remember the blessings of this past year. But let your gratitude go deeper than the holiday. Let it flow from the cross. Like the woman who fell at Jesus’ feet, may our lives be marked by thankfulness that holds nothing back.
Because for the Christian, thanksgiving is not just a holiday. It is the overflow of a heart that knows it has been forgiven.
Thessalon ON
No Practice Runs in Life
In 2017, climber Alex Honnold achieved something few believed possible. He scaled the 3,000-foot vertical rock face of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park with no ropes, no harnesses, and no safety gear. Just for reference, that wall of granite is nearly twice the height of the CN Tower. Every inch of that climb was sheer, unforgiving rock. One mistake would have meant death.
What makes his accomplishment even more incredible is that he did it alone. No one climbing beside him. Nothing to catch him if he fell. It was just Alex, relying entirely on his own strength, skill, and focus. The documentary Free Solo captures the intensity of it all, showing the physical and mental toll of preparing for such a high-stakes climb. What many viewers learn through that film is that before the final, death-defying ascent, Alex practiced the entire route over and over with ropes and safety gear. He trained for years. He memorized every foothold and every hand-grip before he ever attempted it without protection.
And that’s where our lives are very different. We don’t get practice runs. We don’t get to rehearse our responses to hardship before the pressure is real. Life doesn’t give us a harness and a do-over if we slip. But here’s the good news. We have something even better. We have a God who holds us. The Christian life is not a free solo. We are not climbing alone, and we’re not relying on our own strength to make it to the top.
Not Climbing Alone
That’s the heart of what Jesus is teaching in Luke 18. The chapter opens with this: “Now He was telling them a parable to show that at all times they ought to pray and not to lose heart” (Luke 18:1, NASB95). That’s the point. Don’t give up. Don’t let discouragement wear you down. Keep going, and keep praying.
Jesus then tells the story of a widow who comes again and again to a judge, asking for justice. The judge doesn’t fear God and doesn’t care about people. He’s the last person you’d want deciding your case. But eventually, he gives in. Not because it’s right, but because he’s tired of her persistence.
The Judge Who Can Be Trusted
The point of the parable is not to suggest that God is not a judge. Scripture makes it clear that He is. But unlike the judge in the story, who is corrupt, indifferent, and self-serving, God is completely just, entirely good, and deeply compassionate. The contrast is in character, not in role.
If even a man like that, who lacks all concern for justice, can be moved by persistent requests, how much more can we trust the righteous Judge of all the earth to hear the cries of His people? God is not reluctant. He is not indifferent. He is not burdened by our prayers. He is just. He is merciful. And He delights to act on behalf of those who belong to Him.
Jesus is not telling us to wear God down (as if that were even possible). He is reminding us that God is already near, already listening, and already ready to act. He is saying, don’t lose heart. Keep praying. You’re not alone in this climb.
When the Climb Gets Hard
Now this isn’t just about prayer in general. If you look at the context, this parable follows Jesus’ teaching in Luke 17 about His second coming. He had just been talking about the day when He will return in power and judgment. On that day, those who are ready will be gathered to Him, and those who are not will be left behind. So when Jesus tells this parable about perseverance, it’s not just about getting through life’s difficulties. It’s about staying faithful until the end. It’s about holding on and keeping your eyes on Him until the day He comes again.
He ends the parable with a question. “When the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on the earth?” (Luke 18:8). In other words, will He find people still climbing? Still trusting? Still crying out in prayer?
That’s a hard question. Because the truth is, there are a lot of things in this life that make us want to let go. Suffering. Disappointment. Unanswered prayers. Fatigue. It all adds up. But it’s not just hardship that wears us down. Sometimes it’s comfort. Sometimes it’s the temptation to love this world more than we should. Sometimes it’s distraction, the appeal of sin, or the drift of a heart that stops longing for Christ’s return. There are all kinds of ways we can lose focus and lose heart.
And in those moments, we’re tempted to think that perseverance means muscling through on our own, just holding on tighter.
But that’s not what Jesus is asking. He’s not telling us to be spiritual daredevils, relying on our own strength. He’s calling us to trust the One who climbs with us. To believe that God hears our cries. To know that even when we feel like we’re barely hanging on, He is the one holding us up.
Fixing Our Eyes on Jesus
Hebrews 12 gives us the same encouragement. It says, “Let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith” (Hebrews 12:1–2). He’s the one who has gone ahead of us. He endured the cross. He faced down shame. He finished the climb. And now He’s at the right hand of God, interceding for us.
The next verse continues, “Consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart” (Hebrews 12:3). That’s it. Don’t lose heart. Don’t give up. Keep climbing. Not because you’re strong enough, but because Jesus is. He is the one who keeps you. Even when your grip slips, His never does.
You Are Held
Maybe today you feel like you’re near the edge. Maybe the mountain is too high, the climb too hard. Maybe you’ve prayed and nothing seems to change. Maybe you’ve stumbled. But if that’s you, don’t walk away from this without hearing what Jesus is saying. Keep crying out to God. Don’t stop praying. Don’t lose heart. You are not climbing alone.
You don’t get practice runs in life. But you do have safety. You have a Savior. And He will not let go.
So keep climbing. Keep praying. Keep trusting. Because the One who calls you upward is the One who will never let go of you.
A Distorted View of God
A few years ago, a sociologist at the University of North Carolina did a study on the spiritual beliefs of American teens. Many of them identified as Christians. They had grown up going to church services, hearing Bible stories, and claiming they believed in God. But the researcher noticed a troubling pattern: their beliefs didn’t line up with what the Bible actually teaches.
Instead, he coined a term to describe what they really believed: Moralistic Therapeutic Deism. It’s the idea that God is out there somewhere, generally nice, and mostly wants people to be good (moralistic), to feel better when life is hard (therapeutic), but otherwise stays distant and uninvolved (deistic). And the ultimate goal of life? Just to be happy.
This view is widespread and deceptive. It uses the language of faith, but at its core, it’s a different religion. One where God exists to serve us, instead of us living to serve Him.
Returning to the True God
The danger of Moralistic Therapeutic Deism shows why it’s so important to stay anchored to the Word of God. Without regular grounding in Scripture, even sincere believers can slowly absorb distorted ideas about who God is and what He expects. We can end up creating a god of our own imagination, one who demands little, costs little, and changes nothing.
That’s why it’s so important to come back to the foundational things that God has revealed. Though we are no longer under the Old Testament Law, the Ten Commandments are still deeply significant. They show us God’s unchanging character and help us see what it means to live in a right relationship with Him.
How the Law Points Us to Christ
Another vital reason why the Ten Commandments still matter is that they show us our need for grace. As Paul said, “through the Law comes the knowledge of sin” (Romans 3:20). God’s commands act like a mirror, revealing things about ourselves that we might not want to see. They don’t save us. They show us how badly we need saving, and they point us to Christ.
When we read God’s law honestly, we realize that we fall short. But the purpose of that realization isn’t to drive us into despair. It is meant to lead us to the Savior who offers forgiveness, hope, and new life.
Salvation Calls for a Response
Even at Mount Sinai, God’s saving work called for a response. Before giving Israel the commandments, He reminded them: “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery” (Exodus 20:2). Their obedience wasn’t about earning salvation. It was about living faithfully in response to the rescue God had already given.
It’s still the same for us today. Salvation is a gift of God’s grace, but it calls for a real response of trust, repentance, and obedience. We don’t obey to earn His favor. We obey because we trust Him and we belong to Him.
Keeping God at the Center
The first commandment lays the foundation for everything else: “You shall have no other gods before Me” (Exodus 20:3). God must not simply be first on a long list of priorities. He must be the center that everything else in our lives revolves around. Our greatest trust, love, and devotion belong to Him alone.
We see this truth so clearly in Jesus’ encounter with the rich young ruler. The young man claimed to have kept all of the commandments since he was a boy. But Jesus exposed his divided heart when He said: “Go, sell all that you have… then come, follow me” (Mark 10:21). The man went away sad because he wasn’t willing to let go of his wealth. His real god had been revealed.
We face the same temptation today. Our idols may not be carved statues, but they are no less real. Career success, relationships, comfort, and even good things can quietly slip into God’s rightful place.
Abraham faced a similar test when God asked him to sacrifice Isaac. After waiting a lifetime for a son, Abraham was asked to trust God with what was most precious to him. It was a staggering command, but Abraham obeyed. He showed that no gift had replaced the Giver at the center of his life. Abraham passed the test the rich young ruler failed.
Trusting God Above Everything
The real question for all of us is this: Is God truly at the center of my life? Not just at the top of a priority list, but truly the center, the One everything else flows from.
When we stumble, and we all do, the answer isn’t despair. It is deeper dependence on Christ. The commandments show us where we fall short. The Gospel reminds us that grace meets us there. In Christ, we find both forgiveness for our failures and the strength to keep walking with God at the center of our lives.
In a world filled with distorted images of God, we must keep coming back to the God. who truly is not the god we imagine, but the God who has revealed Himself in Scripture. Knowing Him, trusting Him, and putting Him at the very center is the only way our lives will hold together. Everything else begins to fall into place when we start with the God who is.
Thessalon ON
When we think about worship, many of us picture the familiar elements of our Sunday gatherings: singing hymns, reading Scripture, praying and hearing a sermon. These practices are rich and meaningful, and they help form the rhythm of our spiritual lives. But they are meant to express something even deeper. The danger is, that if our understanding of worship stops with these visible acts, we reduce it to routine. Many believers faithfully attend church yet feel distant from God throughout the week. Why? Because they have equated worship with outward activity rather than inner devotion, missing the heart of what worship truly is.
Worship Begins in the Heart
Worship has always been a matter of the heart. Deuteronomy 6:5 tells us, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.” True worship is not just about actions. It is about affection, devotion, and our delight in God. It is about being captivated by His presence and finding our deepest joy in Him.
This is the purpose for which we were created. The greatest fulfillment we can experience as human beings comes when our hearts are fully engaged in worship, when we are basking in the reality of who God is and delighting in the presence He shares with those who love Him. Worship is not confined to a time or place. It is the ongoing reality of a heart that treasures God above all else.
The Danger of an Empty Ritual
The problem is not with ritual itself, but with ritual that becomes disconnected from the heart. We can sing the songs, attend the services, and seem to check every spiritual box, yet remain spiritually empty. Scripture warns us of the danger of replacing a real relationship with God with empty substitutes. One example is found in Exodus 33. After the Israelites turned to idolatry and worshipped a golden calf, God told them He would still bring them into the Promised Land – but He would not go with them. They would have the blessings, but not His presence.
Imagine having God’s protection, provision, and promises, yet lacking His presence. That is a sobering thought. It is like a marriage in which a husband provides for his wife financially but chooses to live in a separate house, refusing to share life with her. The essence of the relationship is lost. The Israelites realized this and mourned at the idea of moving forward without God.
Three Barriers to True Worship
If we feel distant from God, if worship has grown dry or lifeless, it is worth pausing to examine our hearts. Three common attitudes can stand in the way of experiencing true worship and closeness with God:
Pursuing the Presence of God
Worship is not less than ritual, but it is always more. It is about relationship. A heart that truly worships doesn’t settle for going through the motions – it longs to walk closely with God. It is not content with mere activity but seeks communion.
So we must ask ourselves: Are we merely going through the motions, or are we truly worshiping? Are we seeking God’s presence, or settling for His blessings alone? True worshippers cannot settle for a life without God. They long for Him above all else.
May we be people who delight in the presence of God, who live in wholehearted devotion, and who worship in spirit and truth. “He who has My commandments and keeps them is the one who loves Me.” Let us be those who love Him deeply, seeking His presence above all else.
Thessalon ON
Every year, thousands of people across the globe push their physical and mental limits in a 26-mile test of endurance that we call the marathon race. Cities worldwide host these events, giving participants the opportunity to combine their love for running with—let’s be honest—some very questionable decision-making. At least, that’s my humble opinion.
But behind this dramatic test of endurance lies the story of an ancient messenger named Pheidippides.
Pheidippides was an Athenian herald who, according to legend, ran non-stop from the city of Marathon to Athens—about 26 miles—to deliver a crucial message. As the story goes, he burst into the city, delivered his news, and collapsed from exhaustion, never to rise again. This fabled journey gives the modern marathon its distance and iconic name.
Today we might struggle to imagine a world where such extreme efforts were necessary for communication. The marathon serves as a reminder of the lengths to which people once had to go to ensure important messages were delivered. In the modern world, we have the luxury of instant messaging, video calls, and emails. But in the past, messengers like Pheidippides had no such conveniences.
Imagine the scene: The year is 490 BC, and you are a citizen of ancient Athens. The air is thick with worry and anticipation. A great force has risen against your people—the mighty Persian Empire is on the march, and the fate of your city hangs in the balance. You don’t know if your countrymen will be victorious. You don’t know if your home, your family, everything you hold dear, will be safe. All that you know is that your fellow Athenians have gone out to try and stop this formidable foe on the plains of Marathon. The entire city waits with bated breath for any news from the battlefield.
Suddenly, from the distance, a lone figure emerges—a dust-covered, sweat-soaked messenger sprinting with all his might. The city gathers, hearts pounding, desperate to hear the news that will reveal the fate of the city. The messenger bursts through the crowd, and with his final breath, he exclaims, “We have won!” Can you imagine the relief? The joy that sweeps across the city? Where there was fear and despair, there is now hope and courage. The atmosphere is completely transformed.
The ancient Greeks had a word for this kind of life-changing message: euangelion. It means “good message” or “good news.” The Latin translation, Evangelium, eventually became the English word Gospel. This is why Christians gather, preach, and live out their faith—because of the euangelion, the Good News of Jesus Christ. Just as Pheidippides delivered news of victory that transformed a city in crisis, the Gospel announces the greatest victory of all: Christ’s triumph over sin and death, offering salvation, freedom, and eternal life to a world in desperate need.
In Romans 10:13-15, the apostle Paul evokes this ancient theme of a messenger running across rough terrain to bring good news to those anxiously waiting:
“For ‘Whoever will call on the name of the Lord will be saved.’ How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed? How will they believe in Him whom they have not heard? And how will they hear without a preacher? How will they preach unless they are sent? Just as it is written, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news of good things!’”
We all understand the power of good news. Maybe you’ve anxiously awaited the results of a medical test, news from a loved one far away, or the outcome of an important job interview. When the good news finally arrives, everything changes. The weight is lifted, and a surge of relief and joy floods your heart. That is the power of euangelion.
Just as the people of Athens rejoiced at the news of victory from Pheidippides, we rejoice in the ultimate Good News of the Gospel—the message of Jesus Christ. When this Good News reaches us, it changes everything. Where there was once fear and despair, there is now hope, joy, and peace in Him. Sin is forgiven, death is defeated, and new life is available to all who believe. It’s the good news that lifts the burden of our guilt. It’s the good news that gives us courage to face whatever comes our way. It’s the good news that speaks to life’s deepest questions and solves our greatest problem.
In every generation, this message is carried forward by those willing to go the distance, just like Pheidippides. And today, we are called to be those messengers, bringing the Gospel to a world waiting for good news. After all, how beautiful are the feet of those who bring euangelion.
Thessalon ON
In 2021, two men born on March 9, 1952 at a hospital in Sault Ste Marie Ontario, discovered through DNA testing that they were not who they thought that they were. The babies were kept in a separate nursery and only brought to their mothers for short visits, before being sent home with the wrong families. They grew up living the life intended for the other and believing that they were someone else. Each is now suing for damages and emotional suffering. Both sets of parents are deceased leaving Howard Dupuis and Leslie Gagnon facing a crisis of identity and trying to connect with their biological siblings. Their lives have been upended and they remain shaken by the discovery.
Imagine that? Imagine living almost your entire life believing that you were someone else? Your whole world and everything you’ve known to be true about yourself shattered in an instant. Your real family are strangers and those who you know and love are not yours either. So who am I?
These two men spent their lives following paths, building relationships, and making decisions based who they thought they were, only to discover otherwise and to wonder what life might have been – if only.
Have you ever questioned or doubted who you are? Have you built your life on things that have turned out to be false?
I believe that the most fundamental and consequential question that we can ever ask ourselves is, ‘Who am I?’ This question of identity shapes everything about us—our values, our actions and relationships, and ultimately what we consider to be the meaning and purpose of our lives. How we answer the question, ‘Who am I?’ impacts every aspect of who we are and how we live. Each of us has answered this question, and we are living our lives according to that answer. But, is our answer correct?
Mental health experts identify a fundamental need that we all have for an internal framework to make sense of the world. We need some kind of structure ordering our inner world. It includes a value system and a way of orienting ourselves based upon our perceived identity. But what happens when that structure is built on a falsehood? What happens when the foundation of our lives turns out to be untrue?
If our identity is not aligned with reality – if it is not based on what is true—the consequences can be disastrous. A flawed sense of identity can lead us down harmful paths, pursuing things that ultimately don’t matter. It can skew our perceptions and distort our lives in ways we can never anticipate. The effects of a mistaken identity can be utterly devastating. So, we need to be certain that we’ve got this right.
Where then does our sense of identity come from? It comes from others. We find our place first in our families and then in society. And if we are fortunate enough to encounter God’s word, we ultimately find out who we are in relation to Him. It is our relationship with God that puts all other relationships in their proper perspective. We are the creature before the creator, and made in His image. We are his children and He is our Heavenly Father. The world that we live in is His creation and God has given us stewardship of it. When we form families and organize these into a society, our values must pass a divine test.
But this is only one way of understanding the world. Beginning with naturalistic presuppositions, materialism asserts that human beings are nothing more than matter that has been acted upon by chance. Human life is the product of a series of random cosmic accidents and it has evolved over millions of years. We are the unintended byproduct of an indifferent universe. Our thoughts, feelings, and actions are the result of an endless string of biochemical interactions. Many who hold this view conclude that our existence, in the ultimate sense, is devoid of any inherent value or purpose. If we are merely the products of random chance, then there is no ultimate purpose or direction to our lives. It’s entirely meaningless.
We are born, and if we are lucky, we live a few fleeting decades on this cosmic stage, and then, in the blink of an eye, return to nothingness. All of our experiences, all of our emotions, all of our aspirations are nothing more than physical interactions that play out within the confines of our brain. There is no ultimate or eternal purpose ‘out there’. There’s no real meaning to be discovered.
But this external reality is at odds with who we are as people. Everyone feels a need for an overarching meaning in life in order to establish a sense of personal identity. And if meaning is not out there beyond ourselves, we have no choice but to create our own. Materialists are forced to invent themselves or accept that they are meaningless matter, coming from nowhere and bound for oblivion. Personal identity cannot be extracted from an impersonal universe.
In this way and for these reasons…some materialists become existentialists. They do it to infuse meaning into meaninglessness and value into that which is otherwise worthless, for we are all incurably human – making value judgments in the pursuit of hopes and dreams. But when values are individually chosen and collectively expressed, they form an ever-changing standard. Many define themselves by personal achievement or the accumulation of wealth. Others ‘hang their hats upon sexual preference, physical appearance or personal independence. It is all about creating meaning in a meaningless world and elbow-room in a society pressing in from all sides.
There is a heavy focus on self-identity. People say, ‘You have to express yourself,’ ‘You have to create your own path,’ or ‘You have to be true to yourself.’ These sentiments stem from the belief that our identity is something we must forge on our own.
But here’s an important question: if the materialistic worldview is true, why is there such a desire to define ourselves? Where does this need come from? After all, if we are nothing more than atoms and molecules, and if our consciousness is merely a byproduct of complex biochemical interactions, why do we have this innate urge to find meaning and purpose? Why do we yearn to define ourselves and our place in the universe? The materialistic worldview cannot provide satisfactory answers to these questions. It cannot adequately explain why we strive for meaning, why we seek purpose, or why we yearn to understand ourselves on a deeper level.
That should tell us something. We instinctively know there must be something more, and we just naturally live our lives as if that is true. We seem hardwired to demand real meaning and purpose in life and cannot settle for anything less.
So, is the materialistic worldview true? Or is it a false foundation upon which many have built their identity? Is this who we really are?
Is it not more logical to believe that our true identity is based on something – or someone above? Our consciousness, our ability to reason, to love, to dream, all point us toward a transcendent reality that goes beyond the mere physical and material.
Our worldview stands in stark contrast to the prominent materialistic perspective of our modern age. We are a combination of two realities: both material and non-material. We have been purposefully created to seek that very purpose. And it is that purpose that allows us to live in a physical world without extracting our meaning from it. For at the culmination of creation, “…God said, Let Us make mankind in Our image, according to Our likeness”.
The scriptures inform us that we are not merely physical beings in a material world. Nor are we just spiritual beings in a physical world. We are both physical and spiritual in a material world that interacts with spiritual beings all the time. God is the Lord of heaven and earth. Angels who do God’s bidding, and those who do not, interact with our lives on a daily basis.
So it is that we understand who we are, why are here and where we are going. It is in relationship with almighty God who supplies for body and soul, that we are made whole. We exist because He exists. Our inner being transcends the physical, handling immaterial things with the natural ease of divine ‘image-bearers’.
We have God-given value drawn from an inexaustible source. God is the foundation for the sanctity of human life. He has endowed every human being with intrinsic dignity and worth. Regardless of ethnicity or background, pre-born or elderly, each has God-given value. No other creature on the planet shares this. We have a worth and value that is distinct from the rest of creation. And when we recognize this, the truth transforms us, elevating us and others as nothing else can.
So in the ultimate sense, it is not our earthly family that defines us…it is our heavenly one.
Our true identity, the one that matters in eternity, has been placed upon us by the one who is eternal. Our geneology is important only when it begins with Adam…the son of God…and spiritually with Jesus the eternal Son of God. “For God so loved the world…”. This is the transformed life and with it, true security.
Thessalon ON
As a young boy, I learned an unforgettable lesson about the dangers of drifting, a lesson that has stuck with me all these years. Durning those summer days, my family would often spend weeks at my aunt and uncle’s camp on St. Joseph Island, situated between Lake Superior and Lake Huron in the North Channel. I distinctly remember one bright, sunny day when we were all out swimming. They had a boat anchored a little way off the shore, and we kids would climb up onto it just to jump off again – it was our version of a diving board. On this particular day, one of us – and I’m not going to say who it was – came up with the brilliant idea to unfasten the boat from its anchor. We all thought it would be a great adventure. Little did we realize the trouble we were getting ourselves into. After a few minutes of playing on the untethered boat, we suddenly realized that the shore was a lot farther off than it had been just a few moments ago. It just so happened that we drifted all the way into the middle of the shipping lane. My mom had to quickly enlist the help of our neighbor for a rescue mission, and thankfully, he was able to set off in his boat to retrieve us. What began as an adventure ended up as a stark lesson in the dangers of drifting.
Reflecting on that day as a kid, I can’t help but draw a parallel to our spiritual lives. Just as we hadn’t noticed the subtle shifts in the boat’s position until we were far from the safety of the shore, drifting in our spiritual lives often occurs in a similar way. We don’t always notice it until we’ve strayed far from our anchor in Jesus. Drifting by definition is a slow and gradual movement away from a fixed point or position. It happens gradually, subtly, and often without us realizing it. In our spiritual lives, we, too, can become unanchored without realizing it.
This subtle and often unnoticed movement away from our spiritual anchor can be attributed to a host of factors in our lives. The world we live in is brimming with distractions and false promises that vie for our attention every day. From our busy schedules and the constant hustle of daily life to the allure of material possessions and worldly pursuits, these distractions can easily lead us astray.
Scripture is replete with warnings against drifting away from our relationship with God and His redemptive plan for us. One such warning can be found in Hebrews 2:1-3a (NASB 95), which states,
“For this reason we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away from it. For if the word spoken through angels proved unalterable, and every transgression and disobedience received a just penalty, 3 how will we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?”
This passage is a wake-up call from God. It is a profound reminder that drifting through life without anchoring ourselves to the saving grace of Jesus Christ will have devastating consequences. It can be hard for us to hear this, but we need to. God’s word demands our utmost attention. We cannot afford to neglect the great salvation that has been offered to us.
So, the question we need to ask ourselves is, how do we ensure that we are not drifting? How do we make sure that we are anchored firmly to our Rock, to our savior, Jesus Christ. I think a good place to start is with a genuine recognition of who Jesus truly is. This is what is going on in our passage in Hebrews .
Verse 1 begins, “For this reason we must pay much closer attention.” Some translations say, “Therefore, we must pay closer attention.” And the author, of course, is referring to the previous statements he has made. He is saying what he is saying now in light of the preceding argument. This line of reasoning began in chapter 1 where the author emphasized the tremendous reality of who Jesus is. He says, “Jesus is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of His nature. He is the one who upholds all things by the word of His power.” When Jesus stepped into this world something absolutely incredible happened. The God of all creation, God the Son, took on human form as the final and decisive revelation of God to us. And the author makes it clear, that because this is the reality of who Jesus is, because this is the true nature and identity of Jesus, He is therefore, far superior to everything else. The author goes on to explain how Jesus is far superior to the angels, to Moses, to the Levitical Priesthood, even to the Old Covenant. In Him, there is a new and better covenant, a new and better agreement between God and humanity. He made the old agreement obsolete. There is now no other covenant, and no other way, than the way of Jesus.
What the author of Hebrews is doing here is driving home the point that because of who Jesus is, because of His divine nature and His status as the one and only Son of God, He surpasses all that came before Him. And it is this profound truth that provides the impetus for us to pay much closer attention to His Message, so that we do not drift away from it. And if we are to avoid drifting in our spiritual lives this is where we need to begin. If we don’t recognize who Jesus really is, then we risk drifting away from the truth and forfeit the incredible blessings that come with it.
The salvation that Jesus offers us is far too great to neglect or take for granted. It is a salvation that offers forgiveness, redemption, and eternal life in the presence of all the goodness and majesty of God. It is a salvation that transcends all earthly pursuits and every temporal pleasure. How will we escape if we neglect so great a salvation? The truth is, we won’t, we will end up in a dire situation. So, we must heed the call and make sure that we are securely anchored to Jesus. Because of who Jesus is, He stands as our only Rock, our only hope, that will keep us from drifting into spiritual peril.
Another way we can keep from drifting is by actively engaging in our faith. When the author of Hebrews says, “pay much closer attention to what we have heard,” he implies active listening, and not just hearing. Active listening requires engagement, focus, and response. We need to immerse ourselves in the Word of God, to study it diligently, and to allow it to permeate our hearts and minds. We need to respond to God’s Word, to apply it to our lives, to live it out. We need to cultivate a lifestyle of active obedience to God’s commands and principles. This active engagement with God’s Word will help to anchor us to the truth, to Christ, and prevent us from drifting.
The author of Hebrews also reminds us of the importance of community.
In chapter 3, verse 13, he says: “But encourage one another day after day, as long as it is still called “Today,” so that none of you will be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.” We need each other. We need to live in community with other believers, encouraging, supporting, and holding each other accountable. We need a fellowship to challenge, correct, and to encourage our faith journey. If we isolate ourselves from the Lord’s church, we slip the moorings that keep us from drifting. We need to secure every connection that we have to the body of Christ.
Finally, the author reminds us of the gravity of the situation – “how will we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?”
We must always keep in mind the tremendous cost of our redemption – the death of Jesus Christ on the cross. This was not just any death; it was the most poignant display of divine love and grace ever. It was God in human form, becoming sin for us, paying a price that we could never pay, and willingly enduring the cruel cross so that we might have life. Every agonizing step that Jesus took, every stripe on his back and nail in his body, all of it was endured to seal our redemption. This was the greatest gift ever. And the implications of neglecting it are truly sobering. When we neglect God’s great salvation, we devalue the sacrifice of Jesus and disregard the divine love that was poured out for us. If we disconnect from the source of our salvation, we cut ourselves off from God. And he responds by honouring our choice and making it eternally permanent. This Biblical warning should spur us to vigilance, to watchfulness, and to a fervent pursuit of God.
Now, what if we find ourselves already drifting? What if we are jolted awake and realize that we are far from God?
There is no need for despair. Our Lord is patient and merciful. He is like a faithful shepherd who seeks out His lost sheep. He is like a loving father who runs to welcome back His prodigal child. He is always there, always calling us back to Himself, always ready to forgive and restore. It’s just like when I was a kid that day on the boat when my mother got our neighbor to come rescue us. Even though we had made a mistake and drifted, we weren’t abandoned. When we drift in our spiritual lives, God does not abandon us. He’s there, eager to pull us back, eager to restore us to a right relationship with Him. No matter how far we have drifted, His love reaches out to us, and His grace is sufficient to bring us back. We need to remember this – there is no place too far or too remote that His grace cannot reach.
The answer to drifting is to anchor ourselves to the Rock of our Salvation, to Jesus Christ, and to secure our lives to the One who is unchanging, unshakable, and eternally reliable. We need to hear that call. We need to wake up and nurture our relationship with Jesus every single day. We need to hold on to Him as tight as we can, and never let go.
We hold onto Him:
May we remain vigilant and alert to the wiles of the Devil and to every current straining against our faith. May we humble ourselves, and knowing our propensity to drift, rely more fully on the grace of God – for divine safety and security, and peace.
Thessalon ON
Saying that life is difficult is as obvious as saying that water is wet. Everyone has troubles and no one is exempt.
Since the fall of Man, humanity has struggled to find meaning and purpose amidst trial and tribulation. God has responded with scripture, guiding us back to Himself and assuring us that those who belong to Him, are not alone. He guards and protects us through every storm and across every dark valley. As our divine companion He is the source of enduring joy.
Psalm 16:11 says: “You will make known to me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; In Your right hand there are pleasures forever.”
The world may offer fleeting moments of happiness, but true unwavering joy is found only in God. It carries us through our most difficult times, when it is in fact at its very best. This may all seem odd, but the scriptures assure us that it is nevertheless so. The joy that God gives is made for trouble and knows just what to do with it.
What is joy?
When the Bible uses the word ‘joy’, what exactly does it mean in the context of the Christian faith? We typically associate the word with happiness because that is what most people around us mean by it. And while joy may include feelings of happiness, there is much more to it than that.
The biblical concept of joy is not a fleeting emotion or a temporary state of mind. It is not at the whim of circumstances. It is instead a deep and abiding sense of contentment and satisfaction coming directly from our relationship with God. That’s what joy is. It is a deep sense of contentment and satisfaction that comes from God.
In Galatians 5:22 joy is a fruit of the Spirit. It is something produced within us as we walk in obedience to God and experience His love and grace. Times of sorrow and sadness cannot dispel it, for it flows entirely from our spiritual relationship with God. Joy from God is an enduring gift that keeps on giving, even when life is trying to take everything away.
How do we cultivate joy in our lives?
Understanding that joy is a profound and enduring sense of contentment rooted in our relationship with God, leads us to ask: how can we cultivate and nurture it in our lives?
Authored by King David, Psalm 25 provides some answers.
“To You, O Lord, I lift up my soul. O my God, in You I trust, Do not let me be ashamed; Do not let my enemies exult over me.” (25:1)
We don’t know what it was exactly that David was facing, but he mentions enemies, suggesting conflict. Despite his fears, David trusted in God as his only hope and this led to the joy that only God can provide.
Joy comes from trusting in God’s character.
Joy is anchored in the trustworthiness of God who always keeps his promises. He is eternally good and unfailing in love. And while present in all places at once, He is especially at our side when things get tough. It is therefore when we put our trust in Him, that we experience a deep and abiding joy, which like the peace of God – passes all understanding.
In verses 4 and 5, David reveals yet another path to joy. He says, “Make me know Your ways, O Lord; Teach me Your paths. Lead me in Your truth and teach me, For You are the God of my salvation; For You I wait all the day.”
David acknowledges that the journey to joy also involves seeking God’s wisdom and guidance. He desires not only to trust God but to know His ways and learn His truths.
Joy comes from seeking God’s guidance.
When the storms of life hit, it is important for us to seek God’s guidance. In stormy seas, even experienced sailors might never find their way back home without a compass. In a similar way, God guides us through His word and helps us to understand it when we go to him in prayer.
When we turn to Him for guidance, we acknowledge our need for His help and direction. We humble ourselves before Him, admitting that we cannot navigate alone. The burden of figuring everything out is lifted when we trust God’s infinite wisdom to guide us. Seeking His guidance deepens our relationship with Him, leading to a better understanding and a deeper sense of joy and fulfillment in Him. This is something David understood. Joy comes from seeking and following God’s guidance in our lives.
Joy comes from remembering God’s forgiveness
We see another essential aspect of finding true joy in verse 7, where David wrote:
“Do not remember the sins of my youth or my transgressions; According to Your lovingkindness remember me, For Your goodness’ sake, O Lord.”
After seeking God’s direction, David acknowledged his sins and sought God’s forgiveness. God does not intend for us to live with a guilty conscience or to despair when we sin. He is eager to forgive – when we let go of sin and ask to be cleansed. And He does this for the sake of his own name. Forgiveness is the gift that rekindles joy, as it did so long ago in David.
Joy comes from resting in God’s protection.
Verse 15 says, “My eyes are continually toward the Lord, For He will pluck my feet out of the net. Turn to me and be gracious to me, For I am lonely and afflicted.”
David trusted that God would pluck his feet out of the net and deliver him from his enemies. Trusting in God’s eternal protection brings true joy. We can experience joy, knowing we have a God who watches over and protects us.
We can rest assured that no matter what we face in this life, God is with us and watching over us. This does not mean that we will never be harmed or crushed by the troubles of this world. Trouble is one thing that Jesus Himself guaranteed that we would have if we follow him (John 16) But it also means that God’s protection applies to us in the ultimate sense. If we belong to Him, He safeguards our souls and provides the strength to endure whatever comes our way. When we put our trust in God’s protection, we can have confidence that nothing can separate us from His love or His presence in our lives (Rom 8:38-39). We can face our trouble with hope and perseverance, knowing that God is working all things for our good, even if it doesn’t seem that way in the moment or if it seems more than we can bear.
We can rest in Him.
This is where our joy comes from—it comes from knowing that we have a God who protects us and watches over us, and nothing can separate us from Him. Isn’t that a wonderful assurance that we can hold onto in the midst of suffering? This is what David knew, and this is what we need to know. David understood what he had in God.
Consider the final verses of this Psalm:
“Look upon my enemies, for they are many, And they hate me with violent hatred. Guard my soul and deliver me; Do not let me be ashamed, for I take refuge in You. Let integrity and uprightness preserve me, For I wait for You. Redeem Israel, O God, Out of all his troubles.”
This is ultimately where David found his joy in the midst of all that was against him—despite all his suffering and difficulty, he found it by seeking refuge in God.
David understood that no matter how many enemies he had or how violently they hated him, God was greater than them all. He trusted that God would preserve and protect, redeem and restore. So he waited upon his God who had never failed…and God did not disappoint.
Joy comes from finding refuge in God.
We tend not to look for refuge until we are ‘down and out’. But even then, it is never too late, for there is never a time when God is not near or a place beyond his reach. Taking refuge in the Lord before we are lost and struggling makes the best sense. But even those who wait may do so before it is too late. God provides the rest that we need – rest for our souls. He will faithfully preserve and guide us through even the darkest times. And as He does, may we patiently wait for His redemption, knowing that He is working all things for our good, bringing us into a place of eternal joy and rest.
Thessalon ON
In June 2019, a remarkable discovery was made in Compiegne, France. It all began when an elderly woman in her nineties, feeling overwhelmed by the demands of maintaining her home, decided to sell her home and find a more manageable living arrangement.
Before listing the property, the lady hired an auctioneer to assess her belongings and determine if she had anything worth selling. If something could be sold, it would be, and the rest would be thrown away. Little did she know that this decision would unveil a truly remarkable treasure within her home.
When the auctioneer arrived, he found a few pieces of furniture that were decent enough to sell. But there was something else that piqued his interest. In the kitchen, above the cooking hotplate, was an old painting hanging on the wall. The lady and her family didn’t think much of it, considering it just an old religious icon from Russia—maybe a mass-produced kind of thing. They never paid it much attention. The auctioneer, however, was convinced that there was more to this painting. He believed it was much more valuable than they thought. So, he persuaded the woman and her family to have it appraised by world-renowned art expert Eric Turquin at the Turquin art gallery in Paris.
As Mr. Turquin examined the painting, something extraordinary unfolded. He carefully and meticulously studied the brushstrokes and assessed the composition of the paint. He subjected it to a comprehensive infrared light analysis. With each passing moment, his excitement grew, as he started to realize the true magnitude of what lay before him. Astonishingly, the expert realized that this painting was no ordinary religious icon—it was a long-lost masterpiece by the revered Italian renaissance painter Cimabue. It dated back to the year 1280 and was one of only a handful of known surviving works by the artist. The painting, now known as “Christ Mocked,” depicted a poignant scene of Jesus being ridiculed before his crucifixion. Its discovery garnered global attention, sent shock waves through the art world, and eventually sold at auction for a staggering 24 million euros (approximately 27 million U.S. dollars).
Now, the story of an ordinary woman unknowingly owning an extraordinary masterpiece serves as a potent illustration. What is truly fascinating about this story is that for all those years, the lady remained oblivious to the true value and significance of the painting she owned. Unaware of the treasure hanging in her kitchen, just above the place where she cooked her meals, she lived without recognizing its worth. However, when the painting’s true value was finally recognized, it brought about a profound transformation in her life. Her perspective was forever changed, and she gained a newfound appreciation (and a lot of money) for the treasure she had unknowingly possessed.
It is rather disheartening to consider that a similar situation often unfolds in the lives of many individuals when it comes to their relationship with God. So many people have God in their lives, much like the woman had that painting. They remain unaffected and completely unaware of the true value of what is right before them. Just as the woman was unaware of the hidden treasure within her home, many individuals fail to grasp the profound significance and transformative power of a genuine connection with God. Even though they may go through religious motions, attend church services now and then, and say a prayer here and there, they do not fully comprehend the depth of the spiritual riches that are offered to them. They fail to understand the life-changing impact that knowing and worshiping God can have on their lives.
So, the question arises: How can we avoid this failure? What steps can we take to develop a deeper understanding of the value of God in our lives? One approach is to do what believers have been doing for millennia. Throughout history, believers have sought to guide and inform their relationship with God through the timeless wisdom of the Psalms. And one Psalm that can particularly aid us in developing a deeper understanding of the value of God in our lives is Psalm 103. This psalm serves as a profound source of insight, offering a wonderful collection of praises and reflections on the character of God. Just as the discovery of the long-lost masterpiece transformed the woman’s life, meditating on Psalm 103 can profoundly transform our understanding of the value of God in our lives.
Psalm 103 begins: “Bless the Lord, O my soul, And all that is within me, bless His holy name.” This Opening verse sets the tone for the entire psalm, calling upon the soul to bless and worship the Lord. It’s so interesting that this psalm begins with a personal, internal command of one’s own soul. The Psalmist recognizes here the need to actively engage and involve every aspect of his being in worshiping and praising God. This shows us that when it comes to our relationship with God, it requires an active and intentional effort on our part.
If we are to avoid the failure of overlooking the value of God in our lives, we must take intentional steps to cultivate a deeper understanding and appreciation of Him. We must engage our whole being, from the inmost part – to the outer extensions of who we are. We must get serious and rouse ourselves to the profound reality of who God is and the immeasurable blessings that we possess in Him.
The Psalmist calls for this in verse 2 when he says: “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget none of His benefits.”
Here we see another internal call upon the soul, urging it not to forget any of the benefits bestowed by the Lord. This internal call serves as a reminder for us to cultivate gratitude and mindfulness toward the blessings we receive from God. It prompts us to actively remember and to acknowledge the countless ways in which God has shown his love, mercy, and faithfulness in our lives.
This is what the Psalmist does for the next 17 verses. The Psalmist can’t help but revel in all the benefits of belonging to God. He fills his mind with it. He immerses himself in remembering who God is. He is the God who forgives and heals (v.3), who rescues from the pit, and crowns with lovingkindness and compassion (v.4). God is the one who satisfies and renews (v.5), and who executes righteousness and justice for the oppressed (v.6). The God who revealed His ways and His deeds (v.7). The God who is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness (v.8). God does not treat as sins deserve (v.10). He is the God whose love is infinite for those who belong to Him (v.17).
Through these verses, the Psalmist is completely enraptured by the goodness and character of God. He basks in the delight of belonging to God, filling his heart and mind with the immeasurable blessings and attributes of the Lord. This is akin to Mr. Turquin’s experience when he discovered the true value of the painting. As he immersed himself in studying every detail, his excitement grew along with his recognition of its true value. Similarly, as the Psalmist in Psalm 103 contemplates the goodness and character of God, he is completely captivated. His heart and his mind are filled with gratitude and praise. He recognizes the true value of what it means to have a relationship with God, growing in the depth of his understanding and experiencing the transformative impact that it has on his life.
This is what God wants for each of us.
When we follow the psalmist’s example, we will see the full value of God in our lives. We will develop a deeper understanding and appreciation of God and will be changed from the depths of our soul to the outermost aspects of who we are. And when aroused to the reality of who God is, we will fully take hold of the immense blessings that we possess in Him.
Let us heed the call to bless the Lord with our whole being and forget none of his benefits.
Thessalon ON
