Month: March 2026

Bosses – Romans 6:20-23

Romans 6:23 (NIV)
“For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Paul doesn’t waste a lot of words in this passage. He lays out two paths, and leaves you to decide which one describes your life. A life ruled by sin produces shame and ends in death. A life shaped by God’s grace produces holiness and ends in eternal life. That’s it. Simple, clean, and kind of hard to argue with.

It hits harder when you read the the slavery language Paul uses. He’s not talking about people who occasionally make bad choices. He’s talking about people who are owned by sin, who don’t even have the capacity to live differently because they’ve never been freed from it. The gift of God, his grace through Jesus, is what breaks that. It’s not self-improvement. It’s a change of ownership.

For those of us who are already in Christ, the reminder here is that we don’t work for that old boss anymore. Sin doesn’t get to call the shots. That’s easy to forget, especially when life gets hard or when old habits come knocking at the door. It can feel like nothing has changed. But Paul is pretty clear that something fundamental has shifted for the person who belongs to God.

That’s the thing I keep coming back to, personally. It’s not about being perfect or having it all together. It’s about remembering whose I am. When circumstances pile up and things feel out of control, it is easy to slip back into old patterns of thinking, like I’m still at the mercy of everything around me. But that’s not the reality for someone who has been given the gift of eternal life. The circumstance doesn’t define the outcome.

So this week the plan is straightforward. I’ll keep reminding myself of that. Not in some dramatic, loud way, but just as a quiet reset when things start to feel heavy.

“I belong to God.”

“I have been given something that no circumstance can take away.”

That changes how I go though the day.

Fight – Ephesians 6:10-13

Ephesians 6:10 (NIV)
“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.“

I don’t know about you, but I spend a lot of time fighting the wrong battles. I get frustrated with people, with circumstances, and with things that aren’t going the way I want them to. And somewhere in all that, I forget what Paul is telling us here in Ephesians 6. The real battle isn’t against any of that stuff. It’s not against other people. It’s not even against my own bad habits or poor decisions. There’s something bigger going on.

Paul wrote this to a group of people living in a world full of conflict, and his point was pretty clear, you’re fighting the wrong fight if you’re only looking at what you can see. The enemy isn’t the person who cut you off in traffic or the coworker who drives you crazy. The real opposition is spiritual, and it has a very specific goal, to pull you away from God and wear you down until you forget who you are and who you belong to.

The other thing Paul makes clear is that the strength we need doesn’t come from us. He doesn’t say “toughen up” or “try harder.” He says be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. That’s an important distinction. I tend to white-knuckle my way through hard seasons, like if I just push harder I’ll get through it. But that’s not the point. The point is to draw strength from God, from his word, from prayer, and from the community of believers. Those things of his Kingdom are what actually hold up when things get hard.

And then there’s the armor. Paul is about to walk through a detailed comparison of a Roman soldier fully equipped for battle and the spiritual tools God gives us. He’s not being dramatic for the sake of it. He’s saying God has actually given us everything we need to stand firm. We don’t have to be afraid of what the enemy throws at us. We just have to actually use what we’ve been given.

So remember what we’re really up against, stop fighting the wrong battles, and lean into the One who actually provides the strength to stand.

Fruit – Galatians 5:16–26

Galatians 5:16 (NIV)
“So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.”

There’s a tension in the Christian life that doesn’t go away. Paul lays it out plainly here. It’s the pull of the flesh versus the leading of the Spirit.

The contrast is sharp. One produces a list of destructive patterns. The other produces something entirely different—what Paul calls “fruit.” That word matters, because a tree produces the type of fruit that it is supposed to according to its type. A pear tree produces pears, not apples. If we are now God’s, we’ll produce God-type stuff.

And that brings everything back to the opening command: walk by the Spirit. If that’s happening, the outcome follows.

But then Paul raises the stakes. He says those who belong to Christ have “crucified the flesh.” That’s not mild language. It’s not about managing bad habits or trying harder. It’s about a decisive break—treating those old desires as something that no longer has authority.

That’s where this gets practical. It’s easy to say, “I want the fruit of the Spirit in my life.” It’s harder when the moment comes, when impatience, pride, or selfishness shows up and demands to be followed. That’s the exact point where this passage is meant to impact us.

Walking by the Spirit isn’t abstract. It’s a choice, over and over again, to follow His leading instead of defaulting to old instincts. You can’t serve both. One will win in each decision.

So the question today isn’t just what you believe—it’s what you’ll do when that tension shows up. Choose, in that moment, to follow the Spirit—and treat the pull of the flesh as something you no longer obey.

Yoked- Matthew 11:28–30

Matthew 11:28 (NIV)
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

There is more going on in this passage than a simple invitation to rest from slavery-like oppression to the religious Law. When Jesus talks about a “yoke,” He is not just referring to a physical burden. In that culture, a rabbi’s teaching was often described as his “yoke.” It was what you took on when you chose to follow him. So when Jesus tells people to take His yoke, He is not removing all structure or expectation. He is offering a different kind of life under a different kind of teacher.

That matters because the people listening to Him were used to carrying the weight of the Law in a way that felt crushing. It had become something heavy, something that demanded constant effort without relief. Jesus does not tell them to live without direction. He tells them to come under His teaching instead. And what He offers is something completely different. His yoke is easy. His burden is light. Not because there is nothing to follow, but because it is rooted in grace rather than pressure.

That lands in a very real way. It is easy to slip into a mindset where following God becomes constant activity. Doing more. Trying harder. Measuring whether you are doing enough. But that is not what Jesus is calling us into.

He is calling us to Himself first.

There is a difference between working for God and walking with Him. One produces exhaustion. The other produces rest, even when life is demanding. The rest Jesus offers is not the absence of responsibility. It is the presence of Him in the middle of it.

The call here is simple, but not easy. Slow down. Come to Him. Let Him carry what you were never meant to hold on your own.

Weakness — 2 Corinthians 12:7b–10

2 Corinthians 12:9 (NIV)
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’”

Paul mentions that boasting is necessary, but he redefines what it means. Instead of boasting in strength or accomplishments, he boasts in weakness. Weakness is where Christ’s power can be seen most clearly. Strength can hide our dependence on God. Weakness makes that dependence very visible.

This goes against natural instinct. People naturally want to fix weakness, avoid it, or hide it. Weakness feels like a problem. Paul learns to take pleasure in it because it is the place where God can show his power. But there is a big difference in the popular trend to exalt in our problems for their own sake. Instead, the emphasis is on Christ’s strength.

This idea is very real when life feels beyond your control. When your abilities are not enough, that is the moment when God’s grace is most evident. His grace is not barely enough. It is more than enough.

The outcome is dependence on God instead of yourself. Strength can make it easy to trust yourself. Weakness forces you to trust God. That is the place where true strength begins.

A Living Sacrifice — Romans 12:1–2

Romans 12:2 (NIV)
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

Paul is writing to people who understood sacrifice in very concrete terms. In both pagan and Jewish contexts, sacrifice meant offering something tangible—an animal, something valuable, something costly—to gain favor or deal with sin. Into that framework, Paul introduces something fundamentally different..no, not a dead sacrifice but a living one.

Instead of offering something from their lives, believers are called to offer their entire lives. Every thought, action, and decision becomes part of that offering. This is not about a single moment of devotion, but an ongoing, daily surrender. It is a shift from ritual to relationship, where the focus is no longer on what is given occasionally but on who we are becoming continually.

That kind of sacrifice is harder than it sounds. It can feel easier to make a grand, visible sacrifice than to consistently submit the ordinary parts of life. Yet Paul points directly at those details. Transformation doesn’t happen in dramatic moments alone, it happens through the steady renewal of the mind. As God reshapes how we think, we begin to recognize His will more clearly.

This passage brings the focus down to the everyday. Following God is not just about big decisions or major turning points. It is about the quiet choices. It’s about how we think, what we pursue, what we value, and how we respond in ordinary moments.

The call is simple but demanding…offer your whole life, not just parts of it. Let God reshape your thinking, even in the small things. And trust that as He does, you will begin to see His will more clearly, not as something distant but as something you can recognize and walk in daily.

Asking for Wisdom — James 1:5–8

James 1:5 (NIV)
“If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.”

James speaks plainly to believers who are facing difficulty and uncertainty. In those moments, what they most need is wisdom. But James quickly adds an important condition. The request must come with faith. The person who asks while doubting is described as unstable, like a wave driven and tossed by the wind. The issue is not whether questions arise in our minds, it is whether we actually trust God’s promises enough to rely on them.

That tension is familiar. It is easy to pray for wisdom and guidance while simultaneously building our own backup plan in case God does not come through. In that sense, we may believe that God can help, but we do not fully expect Him to. Faith is something deeper than that. It is not merely believing a chair could hold our weight. Faith is actually sitting in it and trusting that it will hold, with no backup plan.

This passage exposes a common struggle. When uncertainty appears, many of us respond with frenetic energy—trying to force solutions, control outcomes, or manufacture clarity through sheer effort. Initiative can be good, but sometimes it becomes a substitute for trusting God. We move so quickly that we never truly wait for His wisdom.

James calls for a steadier posture. Ask God for wisdom. Expect Him to give it. And resist the urge to solve everything ourselves before He has the chance to act. The challenge is not passivity, but trust—the kind that believes God will do what He has promised.

Embracing the Suck — James 1:2–4

James 1:4 (NIV)
“Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

James opens his letter with a statement that can feel almost counterintuitive, “Consider it pure joy when you face trials.” The idea is not that suffering itself is enjoyable. Few people naturally feel joy when life becomes difficult. Instead, the joy comes from understanding what the difficulty produces.

This reminds me of coaching martial arts. Often times, we will do something that is not fun. It is an exercise that pushes boundaries and produces pain. In times like these, I often call out an old military training adage, “Embrace the suck.” We do this because we know that pushing our bodies to the limits makes our bodies stronger, better. It builds the muscles that we will need to be better martial artists.

Faith works much the same way. If the goal of the Christian life were simply comfort, then trials would make no sense. But there is something deeper. God is forming endurance, shaping character, and building a faith that can stand under pressure. The growth is slow and sometimes uncomfortable, but it produces a maturity that would not exist otherwise.

When life becomes demanding, it can feel like the ground has shifted. Situations arise that require more patience, more trust, and more endurance than expected. In those moments, James’ instruction is not to pretend the struggle is pleasant. Instead, it is to recognize that God is using it. The work of perseverance is not finished yet.

The challenge, then, is to endure—to keep trusting God while the process unfolds. Strength grows through resistance. And as difficult as the trials may feel, God is using them to shape a faith that is stronger, steadier, and more complete.

Faith — Hebrews 11:1–6

Hebrews 11:1 (NIV)
“Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”

Hebrews 11 speaks directly to a people who deeply revered their spiritual ancestors. The heroes of Israel’s story were not remembered merely for what they accomplished, but for how they trusted God when outcomes were uncertain. This passage reframes those familiar stories through a single lens, faith. Creation itself is understood not through observation or proof, but through trust in God’s word. Even figures like Enoch (briefly mentioned in Genesis) are held up as examples of a life oriented around pleasing God through faith.

The section builds toward a clear and unsettling conclusion, that faith is not optional. It is essential. Without faith, it is impossible to please God. That statement strips away the idea that effort, notoriety, morality, or religious activity alone are sufficient.

Faith, then, is not abstract belief at all. In the book of James, we read that faith isn’t about believing that God exists, even demons believe that. It is confident trust in him act for the good of those who seek him, even when there is no visible evidence that He is doing so.

That truth presses uncomfortably close. It is one thing to believe God can provide; it is another to trust Him when provision is unseen and the safety net is gone. Faith often feels strongest when consequences are minimal. But Scripture describes faith as dependence without guarantees. It is trusting God not only for outcomes, but also for timing and method. Real faith loosens its grip on control.

Hebrews 11 invites a recalibration. Faith is not about dictating how God must come through; it is about trusting that He will not abandon us when we need Him most. Like a muscle, faith grows through use, especially when it is costly. The call of this passage is simple but demanding. We should trust God fully, even when you cannot see how He is working, and believe that He is faithful to those who seek Him.