Genesis 33:4 (ESV)

“But Esau ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept.”

Genesis 33 is the moment Jacob has been bracing for. After years of distance, deception, and fear, he is finally going to face Esau. The last time they were together, Jacob had taken what belonged to his brother, and Esau’s response was anger and the desire for revenge. So Jacob prepares carefully. He sends gifts ahead, divides his camp, and positions himself in a way that protects what he has. Everything about this moment suggests that he is expecting conflict.

But what actually happens is completely different.

Esau runs toward him, not in anger but in grace. He embraces him, holds him, and they weep together. What Jacob feared would be a moment of judgment becomes a moment of restoration. That matters, because many of us carry moments like this in our lives. Relationships that have been strained, conversations that have been avoided, situations where we assume the worst outcome because of what has happened in the past.

I can think of a time in my own life, not with my immediate family, but in a situation where there was a rift that had formed. It was not because anyone had done something intentionally wrong. It was just a series of unfortunate circumstances that created distance and tension between people. Years later, there was going to be a gathering where everyone would be in the same room again. I remember feeling a sense of apprehension leading up to it, unsure of how it was all going to go.

But when that moment came, something unexpected happened. The grace of God was present in a very real way. There was a sense of peace that you could not manufacture, a restoration that felt unlikely just days before. And I walked away from that moment so thankful that God is a God of peace, a God who makes restoration possible even in situations that seem far beyond repair.

That is what we see in Genesis 33.

But notice something important. Jacob approaches Esau differently than he would have years earlier. He comes with humility. He bows low. He is no longer the man trying to manipulate and take. He has been changed. The wrestling in Genesis 32 shows up in Genesis 33.

Transformation leads to restoration.

And while not every situation resolves this cleanly, this chapter reminds us that God is able to do more than we expect. When grace is extended, when forgiveness is given, it reflects the heart of God in a tangible way.

So today, if there is a relationship in your life that feels strained, do not assume restoration is impossible. You cannot control the other person, but you can walk in humility. You can be obedient in how you approach it. And you can trust that God is able to bring peace where it seems unlikely.

Because the same God who changed Jacob’s heart is the God who can restore what feels broken.

Prayer

Lord, thank You that You are a God of peace and restoration. Help us to walk in humility and obedience in our relationships. Give us the courage to step into moments we may be avoiding, and trust that You are able to bring healing where it is needed. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Genesis 32:24 (ESV)
“And Jacob was left alone. And a man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day.”

Genesis 32 brings us into one of the most intense and personal moments in Jacob’s life. He is about to face Esau, the brother he deceived years earlier. Fear is rising, uncertainty is in front of him, and in the middle of all of that, Jacob finds himself alone. And then something unexpected happens. He wrestles.

This is not just a symbolic moment. This is a real encounter where Jacob wrestles through the night, and it leaves a mark on him. That matters, because this moment is not just about the struggle. It is about what God is doing in Jacob through it. For most of his life, Jacob has been striving, controlling, and trying to secure his future on his own terms. But here, everything slows down. He is no longer running. He is face to face with God.

And instead of letting go, he holds on. “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

That is a different posture. This is not control. This is surrender.

I have seen this play out in a very real way in my own life. There was a season in recent years where there were cultural pressures pushing a certain direction, especially around identity. At the same time, I knew that Scripture was calling us to something different. And I also knew that if we leaned fully into what God’s Word said, there would be people who would be frustrated, and some who would even leave the church.

That created a real tension. It was not theoretical. It was something I had to wrestle through.

Do we adjust to what is more accepted, or do we stay anchored to what God has said?

And we chose to cling to Scripture.

And just as expected, it was not without cost. There were people who were frustrated. There were people who left. That part was difficult. It felt like loss in the moment.

But as we fast forward, we can now see something clearly. The church is in a healthier place than it has ever been. What felt like a loss in the moment was actually God refining, strengthening, and building something deeper.

That is how this works in our personal lives as well.

There is often a temporary cost to obedience. There is a tension, a wrestling, a moment where holding onto God means letting go of something else. But on the other side of that struggle, there is always something greater. Greater clarity, greater strength, greater alignment with who God is calling us to be.

Jacob walked away from his wrestling match changed. He had a new name, a new identity, and even a limp to remind him of what he had been through.

And sometimes, that is exactly how God works in us.

So today, if you find yourself in a place of tension, where following God is not easy, do not run from the struggle. Lean into it. Hold onto Him. Because it is often in those very moments that God is doing His deepest work in you.

The struggle is not wasted.

It is where transformation happens.

Prayer
Lord, thank You that You meet us even in the middle of our struggles. When we feel the tension of following You in difficult moments, give us the strength to hold on and trust You. Shape us, refine us, and change us through every season. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Genesis 31:3 (ESV)

“Then the Lord said to Jacob, ‘Return to the land of your fathers and to your kindred, and I will be with you.’”

Genesis 31 is a turning point in Jacob’s story. For years, he has been serving under Laban. What started as a season of provision has slowly become a place of tension, manipulation, and frustration. The environment has shifted. What was once right is no longer where he is supposed to stay.

And then God speaks.

“Return… and I will be with you.”

If you’ve been following along with these daily devotionals and this is not day one, you may notice that today is a strong contrast from yesterday. In Genesis 26, the call was to stay. In Genesis 31, the call is to go. And that contrast is important.

One of the things we have to remember when reading Scripture is that the time frame between two verses can vary greatly. Sometimes it’s seconds, sometimes it’s years, and sometimes it’s generations. We read it quickly, but life does not move that fast. There are seasons in between where God is doing deep work.

I have seen this play out personally. There was a period of time at the church I was serving before we planted where the Lord was very clearly saying stay. It was not always easy, but the direction was clear. Be faithful right here. But there also came a time when the Lord made it just as clear that it was time to go.

That transition can feel unsettling. Even when you know it is God, stepping into something new always carries a level of uncertainty. But this is where sensitivity to the Lord’s leading matters so much. We should never be flippant about leaving or moving on. These are weighty decisions that require prayer, wisdom, and discernment.

But when the time is right, the time is right.

Jacob’s obedience was not casual. It required courage. Leaving meant stepping into the unknown, facing conflict, and trusting that what God said was enough. But notice the promise attached to the command.

“I will be with you.”

That is everything.

God does not just call us out of something. He walks with us into what is next. The same God who was present in the previous season is the God who will be faithful in the new one.

So today, whether you are in a season of staying or a season of going, the most important thing is this. Be sensitive to the voice of the Lord. Do not rush ahead, and do not hold back when He speaks clearly.

Because wherever He leads, He goes with you.

Prayer

Lord, thank You that You guide us in every season. Give us wisdom to discern when You are calling us to stay and when You are calling us to go. Help us not to move too quickly or hesitate in fear, but to trust Your voice fully. And remind us that wherever You lead, Your presence goes with us. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Genesis 30:1 (ESV)

“When Rachel saw that she bore Jacob no children, she envied her sister. She said to Jacob, ‘Give me children, or I shall die!’”

Genesis 30 is a chapter filled with tension. There is comparison, competition, frustration, and a deep longing for something that has not yet come. Rachel wants children and cannot have them. Leah has children but still longs for love. Both are looking at the other and seeing what they do not have, and that tension slowly turns into striving. Instead of resting in God’s timing, they begin trying to manufacture outcomes. They attempt to control what only God can give, and the entire environment becomes marked by pressure instead of peace.

And if we are honest, this is not just their story. It is ours too.

If there was ever a time this passage feels incredibly applicable, it is right now. We live in a world where comparison is constant. It is easier than ever to look at someone else’s life and feel like we are behind. Social media puts a highlight reel in front of us every single day. We see the cars people drive, the vacations they take, the perfectly staged family photos, and the Christmas trees covered in presents. And without even realizing it, we start measuring our lives against what we are seeing.

But what we do not see is the full story. We do not see the conversation that happened right before the picture was taken. We do not see the stress that may come after the vacation is over. We do not see the credit cards that might be piling up behind the scenes. And sometimes, what we are seeing is not even negative. It might be someone who has worked incredibly hard, picked up extra hours, or made sacrifices to create those moments. The point is not to discount the joy in someone else’s life, but to recognize that we are only seeing part of the equation.

And when we compare our full reality to someone else’s highlight reel, it will always lead to tension.

That is exactly what is happening in Genesis 30. Rachel is looking at Leah, Leah is looking at Rachel, and neither one is at peace. Because comparison will always distort perspective.

Waiting begins to feel heavier. What we do not have begins to feel louder. And before long, waiting turns into striving. We try to make things happen. We try to speed up the timeline. We try to take control of something that only God can give.

But the turning point in this chapter is simple and powerful. “Then God remembered Rachel.” Not because of the striving, not because of the comparison, but because of His faithfulness.

God moves in His timing.

That is what we have to hold onto. God is not ignoring you. He has not forgotten you. He is not late. He is working in ways you cannot see, and He is moving according to a timeline that is bigger than your own.

So today, if you find yourself in a season of waiting, guard your heart against comparison. Be mindful of what you are allowing to shape your perspective. Resist the urge to strive, and choose instead to trust that God sees you, knows you, and has not forgotten you.

Your story is not behind.

God is right on time.

Prayer

Lord, thank You that You see us even in seasons of waiting. Help us to trust Your timing and guard our hearts from comparison. Teach us to rest in Your faithfulness, knowing that You have not forgotten us. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Genesis 29:25 (ESV)

“And in the morning, behold, it was Leah! And Jacob said to Laban, ‘What is this you have done to me? Did I not serve with you for Rachel? Why then have you deceived me?’”

Genesis 29 is one of those chapters where everything feels like it should be going one way, and then suddenly it goes another. Jacob arrives, meets Rachel, and immediately knows this is the woman he wants to marry. He agrees to work seven years for her, and Scripture says those years felt like only a few days because of his love for her. Everything seems to be lining up perfectly.

Until it doesn’t.

After seven years of waiting, working, and anticipating, Jacob is deceived. Instead of Rachel, he is given Leah. The moment that was supposed to bring fulfillment instead brings confusion, frustration, and disappointment. The plan he had in his mind does not match the reality he wakes up to.

And if we are honest, we know what that feels like.

There are seasons where we are moving forward, doing the right things, being faithful, putting in the time, and expecting a certain outcome. We believe we know how the story is supposed to unfold. And then something shifts. The outcome is not what we expected. The timing is different. The result feels off. Life doesn’t go as planned.

I think the reality is that for those of us who are planners, and I definitely fall into that category, we experience this in a unique way. There are times when our plans come together exactly how we envisioned, and then there are times when it feels like curveball after curveball keeps coming. What I have come to learn is that when I take my plans and commit them to the Lord, when I slow down enough to pray and place them in His hands, those curveballs begin to look different. They start to look less like interruptions and more like opportunities. Opportunities for growth, for trust, for God to do something I did not originally account for.

And one of my favorite things is looking back months or even years later and realizing that what felt like an inconvenience at the time was actually something God used to change my life for the better. If that moment had not happened, I would not be where I am today.

That is what Genesis 29 is showing us.

Even when life does not go according to our plan, God is still working according to His. Jacob could not see it in the moment, but God was moving through every detail of this story. Through the confusion, through the delay, through the unexpected turn, God was continuing to build something that would ultimately fulfill His promise.

And there is another layer here that is easy to miss. Leah. She was not chosen. She lived in the shadow of her sister, carrying the weight of rejection. And yet, as the story unfolds, it is through Leah that God builds something significant. What was overlooked by man was not overlooked by God.

So today, if something in your life does not look the way you thought it would, do not assume God has stepped away. He is still present. He is still working. And He is still writing a story that is bigger than what you can currently see.

Even when life does not go as planned, God’s purpose is still unfolding.

Prayer

Lord, thank You that Your plans are greater than ours. When life does not go the way we expect, help us to trust that You are still working. Give us peace in the uncertainty and confidence in Your faithfulness. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Genesis 28:16 (ESV)
“Then Jacob awoke from his sleep and said, ‘Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it.’”

Genesis 28 finds Jacob in a moment of transition. He is on the run, leaving behind everything familiar after the deception in the previous chapter. There is tension behind him and uncertainty in front of him. This is not a peaceful journey. It is a restless one. And in the middle of that, Jacob stops for the night. He lays his head down on a stone and falls asleep, and it is there that God meets him. In a dream, Jacob sees a ladder reaching from earth to heaven, with angels ascending and descending, and the Lord standing above it. God speaks, reaffirming the promise given to Abraham and Isaac, reminding Jacob that the covenant still stands and that His presence will go with him wherever he goes.

Jacob wakes up with this realization, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it.” That statement is so honest. God was present before Jacob recognized it. God was working before Jacob was aware of it. And it took a moment of stillness for him to see what had been true all along.

That connects deeply with us. There are so many moments in life where we feel like we are in between, not where we used to be and not yet where we are going. Seasons of transition, uncertainty, or even consequences from past decisions. And in those moments, it can feel like God is distant. But Genesis 28 reminds us of something important. God is present, even when we do not realize it.

I think all of us have our own story when it comes to this, but for me, one of the unique dynamics is the privilege of teaching from Scripture almost every single Sunday. My goal is always to be faithful to the text and to think about how the people in our church can be encouraged and apply it to their lives. But over time, something became very clear. Again and again, the message I was preparing for others ended up being exactly what I needed personally. It was shaping me in ways I did not fully recognize at first.

That realization shifted something in me. God is not just working in the obvious moments. He is shaping us through every single moment of every single day. It is not a question of if He is working. The question is whether we have eyes to see it.

Jacob thought he was just stopping for the night. In reality, he was stepping into a moment where God would reveal His presence in a powerful way. And the same is true for us. God is not waiting for you at the next destination. He is with you right now, in the middle of your routine, your responsibilities, your questions, and your in-between seasons.

So today, slow down enough to recognize what Jacob realized. God is closer than you think. He is present. He is working. And He is shaping you, even in ways you may not yet fully see.

Prayer
Lord, thank You that You are always present, even when we are not aware of it. Open our eyes to see You in the middle of our everyday lives. Help us to recognize that You are working in every moment, shaping us more into who You have called us to be. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Genesis 27:28–29 (ESV)

“May God give you of the dew of heaven and of the fatness of the earth and plenty of grain and wine. Let peoples serve you, and nations bow down to you. Be lord over your brothers, and may your mother’s sons bow down to you. Cursed be everyone who curses you, and blessed be everyone who blesses you!”

Genesis 27 is a complicated chapter. It is filled with tension, deception, and broken trust. Isaac is preparing to give the blessing, Rebekah intervenes, Jacob deceives, and Esau is left devastated. What should have been a sacred moment becomes a fractured one. And underneath all of it, there is something deeply human happening. People are trying to take control.

God had already spoken about Jacob’s future. The promise was not unclear. But instead of trusting God’s timing and process, Rebekah and Jacob step in and try to make it happen themselves. They manipulate the situation, forcing what they believe God has already said. The result is messy. Relationships are damaged, trust is broken, and there is division within the family that will carry on for years. Even though the promise still stands, the path to it becomes far more painful than it needed to be.

That is what happens when we try to force what only God can fulfill.

If we are honest, this hits close to home. We may not disguise ourselves like Jacob, but we often try to control outcomes. We rush decisions, push doors open, or move forward even when something inside of us is telling us to slow down.

I remember early in my marriage with Erica, there was a moment where I needed to purchase a car. As I was moving toward it, there were three or four obstacles that showed up in a row. At the same time, I had a sense in my spirit that this was not the right move and that I needed to wait on God to provide. But instead of listening, I pressed ahead on my own initiative. I moved forward anyway.

What followed was frustrating but clear. The car ended up having multiple unknown issues, and before long, I had to get rid of it. It became obvious that I had pushed something forward too quickly instead of trusting God’s timing.

That moment stuck with me.

There is a difference between faith and control. Faith says, God, You will do what You said You will do. Control says, I need to make it happen. And when we move from faith into control, we often create unnecessary difficulty along the way.

The encouraging part of this chapter is that even in the middle of the mess, God’s plan is not undone. His promise still moves forward. That does not excuse the actions, but it does reveal His sovereignty. God is faithful, even when we are not.

So today, if there is something you are tempted to force, something you are trying to push forward, take a step back. Ask yourself, am I trusting God, or am I trying to control the outcome?

Because what God has spoken will come to pass. And it is always better to walk there in faith than to fight your way there in control.

Prayer

Lord, thank You that Your plans are not dependent on our ability to control outcomes. Teach us to trust You, not just in what You have promised, but in how and when You fulfill it. Give us patience, wisdom, and peace as we wait on You. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Genesis 26:12 (ESV)

“And Isaac sowed in that land and reaped in the same year a hundredfold. The Lord blessed him.”

Genesis 26 shifts the focus from Abraham to Isaac, and what stands out immediately is this. Isaac is facing a famine. Conditions are not ideal. In fact, everything around him would suggest that it is time to leave and find something better somewhere else. That is the natural response. But God tells him to stay. That instruction matters, because it goes against what would seem logical. In a time of scarcity, you move. In a time of lack, you look for greener pastures. But God tells Isaac to remain in the land, to trust Him right there. And Isaac obeys. He stays, he sows, and God blesses him in that very place. Not after he escapes the difficulty, but in the middle of it. Scripture says he reaped a hundredfold. That kind of provision does not come from perfect conditions. It comes from the hand of God.

We often think that breakthrough is somewhere else. A different job, a different city, a different season, a different set of circumstances. But sometimes, God’s call is not to move, it is to remain. To stay planted. To be faithful right where you are, even when it is difficult.

I want to let you see behind the curtain of pastoral ministry for a moment. The reality is that pastoral ministry can be one of the most challenging callings because of numerous factors. I remember a particularly difficult season at the church I was serving before we planted. It would have been very easy for me to step away, especially knowing that we were going to be planting a church soon. Everything in me could have justified leaving early and moving on to what was next. But I felt very clearly that God was calling me to stay and be faithful for another two years.

And those two years were not easy. They were stretching. They required endurance. But looking back, they were also the most fruitful two years of my entire time there.

That is what God does. He often brings fruit not when we escape the hard season, but when we remain faithful in it.

Genesis 26 goes on to show Isaac facing opposition. Wells are stopped up, conflict arises, and yet he keeps going. He re-digs the wells. He stays steady. There is something powerful about that kind of faith. It is not flashy, but it is consistent. And that consistency is where God often brings His greatest blessing.

So today, if you find yourself in a season that feels dry, difficult, or uncertain, ask the question. Has God called me to stay? And if He has, then trust that He knows exactly what He is doing. Stay faithful. Keep sowing. Keep trusting. Because God does not need perfect conditions to bless you. He works right in the middle of where you are.

Prayer

Lord, thank You that You are not limited by our circumstances. Teach us to be faithful where You have placed us. Give us the strength to stay when You call us to remain, and the trust to believe that You are working even when we cannot see it. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Genesis 25:8 (ESV)

“Abraham breathed his last and died in a good old age, an old man and full of years, and was gathered to his people.”

Genesis 25 marks the end of Abraham’s life. This is the man who was called out of his homeland, who walked by faith into the unknown, who wrestled with doubt, who trusted God in testing, and who saw the faithfulness of God over and over again. And when Scripture summarizes his life, it says something simple but powerful. He died “full of years.” That phrase carries weight. It is not just about length of life, but about fullness of life. Abraham’s life was not perfect, but it was marked by trust in God. Through highs and lows, victories and failures, he kept coming back to the same posture of faith.

And what is fascinating is what happens next. His story does not end with him. The promises of God continue through Isaac. The covenant moves forward. The impact of Abraham’s obedience stretches beyond his lifetime and into generations he would never fully see. That is the kind of life Abraham lived. A life that outlived him.

And that is where this meets us. We live in a world that often measures success by what we accomplish right now, what we build, what we gain, what we experience in the moment. But Scripture constantly points us to something deeper. A life of faith is not just about the present. It is about legacy. It is about what we are passing on.

I remember a conversation I had with a mentor of mine. He told me about a situation where his boss had been disqualified from ministry because of an affair. He said that in the months leading up to it being exposed, there was this tension, this spiritual weight that was just present. He could not fully explain it, but he knew something was off. There was a heaviness, a discomfort that seemed to sit over everything. But the moment it came to light and that leader was removed, it was like that entire weight lifted. Everything shifted.

I remember hearing that and thinking, wow, it is amazing how much of a ripple effect one person’s decisions can have. Not just in their own life, but in the lives of so many others around them.

That moment has stayed with me. It has shaped how I think about decisions, about integrity, about obedience. Because the reality is, what we do never stops with us. It carries into our families, our churches, and the people we lead.

That is what we see in Abraham’s life from the positive side. His obedience, his trust, his faith did not just impact him. It created a legacy that carried forward into generations.

And that is the invitation for us. To live in such a way that our faith does not stop with us. To trust God not just for what He is doing today, but for what He is building through our lives over time. To recognize that even the small, faithful steps matter more than we realize.

Genesis 25 reminds us that a full life is not a perfect life. It is a life anchored in faith. So today, live with the bigger picture in mind. Trust God in the moment, but remember that what He is doing in you is meant to extend far beyond you. A life of faith is never wasted. It always leaves a legacy.

Prayer

Lord, thank You for the example of Abraham and a life lived in faith. Help us to live with a bigger perspective, not just focused on today but on what You are building through our lives. Let our obedience impact others and point people to You for generations to come. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Genesis 24:12 (ESV)

“And he said, ‘O Lord, God of my master Abraham, please grant me success today and show steadfast love to my master Abraham.’”

Genesis 24 is one of the longest chapters in Genesis, but at its core, it is a story about God’s guidance in the details of life. Abraham sends his servant on a mission to find a wife for Isaac, and this is not a small assignment. This decision will shape the future of the promise God has made. When the servant arrives, he does something that immediately stands out. He prays. Not a vague prayer or a rushed moment, but a specific request for God to lead him. He lays the situation before the Lord and essentially says, God, I need You to guide this. What follows is remarkable. Before he even finishes speaking, God begins to move. Rebekah arrives, the details align, and step by step, God orchestrates what the servant could never have controlled on his own. It is a powerful reminder that God is not just working in the big picture. He is active in the smallest details of our lives.

If we are honest, this is where we often struggle. We trust God with the big spiritual ideas, but when it comes to decisions, timing, relationships, and direction, we tend to rely on ourselves. We carry the pressure of figuring everything out. But Genesis 24 shows us a different way. It invites us to bring God into the details.

I remember when we were getting ready to plant the church and trying to figure out where we were supposed to go. It felt like the entire world was open to us, with so many possible directions we could have taken. But as we prayed and processed, it became clear that God was leading us to the eastern end of Henrico, where we are right now. The full story takes time to tell, but what stood out then and still stands out now is this. God did not leave us guessing. He guided us specifically. Step by step, He made it clear where we were supposed to be.

That is what God does. He may not always give you the entire picture upfront, but He will faithfully guide you in the details when you seek Him. Most of the time, it is not through one overwhelming moment, but through a series of aligned steps where you begin to recognize that God is in it. Genesis 24 reminds us that we are not meant to navigate life alone. The same God who makes promises is the God who guides us into them.

So today, whatever decision is in front of you, whatever detail is weighing on your mind, do not carry it by yourself. Pray specifically, trust deeply, and watch how God begins to move. He is not distant from your life. He is present, and He is in the details.

Prayer

Lord, thank You that You are a God who guides, not just in the big moments but in the everyday details of our lives. Teach us to bring everything before You and to trust Your leading. Give us clarity where we need direction and peace where we feel uncertain. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Genesis 23:19 (ESV)

“After this, Abraham buried Sarah his wife in the cave of the field of Machpelah east of Mamre (that is, Hebron) in the land of Canaan.”

Genesis 23 is quiet, but it is heavy.

After the mountaintop moment of Genesis 22, where God provides and reaffirms His promise, the story turns to loss. Sarah dies. Abraham mourns. And we are reminded of something that is true for every single one of us.

Even people of great faith still walk through deep grief.

Abraham is not distant in this moment. Scripture tells us that he mourned and wept for Sarah. This is not a man who is unaffected. This is not a man who has moved on. This is a man who loved deeply and now feels the weight of loss.

And yet, even in his grief, we see something remarkable.

He still walks by faith.

Abraham goes to secure a burial place, and what he purchases is not just a grave. It is the first piece of the promised land that he actually owns. Up to this point, God had promised the land, but Abraham had not possessed any of it.

Now, in the middle of sorrow, he takes a step that reflects trust in the future God has spoken.

That matters.

Because grief has a way of narrowing our vision. It pulls us into the present pain, and understandably so. But Abraham shows us that even in loss, faith can still look forward.

Even in sorrow, God is still working.

I remember shortly after we planted the church, I tragically lost my brother. We were only a few weeks into starting the church, and I knew that I had to have the faith to keep moving, even though this was the most significant obstacle I had ever faced. There was no way to prepare for that kind of moment.

But what I experienced was this. God met me exactly where I was. Not ahead of me, not at some future version of strength, but right there in the middle of the pain. And I realized something I will never forget. God gives the grace to walk through today. Not tomorrow. Not someone else’s life. He gives grace for right now.

And somehow, that grace was enough.

That is what we see in Genesis 23.

Abraham does not have grace for the entire future. He has grace for that moment. Enough to grieve. Enough to take a step. Enough to trust that God is still writing the story.

And maybe that is the word for today.

If you are walking through grief, if you are carrying something heavy, if today feels like more than you can handle, you do not need strength for the next year. You do not need clarity for every step ahead.

You need grace for today.

And the good news is that God meets you right there.

You can grieve honestly and still trust deeply at the same time. You can feel the weight of loss and still take the next step of faith. And even in the valley, God’s promises are not on pause.

He is still present. He is still working. He is still faithful.

Prayer

Lord, thank You that You meet us right where we are. In moments of grief and loss, You do not ask us to have strength for tomorrow, but You give us grace for today. Help us trust You in the middle of what we are carrying, and remind us that You are still working even here. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Resurrection Day

Matthew 28:6

“He is not here, for he has risen, as he said.”

Easter Sunday does not erase what happened on Friday, it reveals it. The cross was not the end of the story, it was the cost of it. Silent Saturday was not empty, it was the tension of it. And now, on this morning, everything that felt final is suddenly reframed. The stone is rolled away, the tomb is empty, and the words that once felt impossible are now standing in front of them as reality. He is not here. He has risen.

And that changes everything.

Because the resurrection is not just proof that Jesus is alive, it is confirmation that everything He said was true. What looked like loss was actually victory. What looked like silence was actually preparation. What looked like the end was actually the beginning of something that will never end. Death does not get the final word. The grave does not hold its ground. Jesus walks out of it, alive.

And what has always stood out to me is how this moment begins. It is not loud. It is not announced to the masses first. It starts with a few people walking toward a tomb, still carrying the weight of what they had just seen. They are not expecting resurrection. They are expecting to mourn. And that is often how God works. He steps into places where hope feels low and does something no one saw coming.

The stone was not rolled away so Jesus could get out. It was rolled away so we could see in.

So we could see that the grave is empty.

So we could see that death did not win.

So we could see that what He said would happen actually happened.

And that is where this becomes personal.

Because the resurrection is not just something we believe, it is something we live from. It means that what feels dead does not have to stay that way. It means that what feels final is not always finished. It means that God still brings life where there was none, hope where it was lost, and purpose where it seemed gone.

Jesus is not just a Savior who died. He is a Savior who is alive.

And because He lives, everything is different.

Prayer

Lord, thank You that the grave is empty and that You are alive. Help me not just believe in the resurrection, but live in light of it. Fill me with hope, with faith, and with the confidence that You are still bringing life where it feels impossible. In Jesus’ name, amen.

1 Day Until Easter

Matthew 27:59–61

Luke 23:50–56

Jesus has been laid in the tomb.

The crowds are gone. The noise has faded. The miracles have stopped. The voices that once shouted now sit in silence. For those who followed Him, this is the space no one expected. The tension of what just happened has not lifted, and the clarity of what comes next has not yet arrived.

This is the in-between.

The place where promises feel distant and questions feel close. The place where what God said is still true, but nothing around you seems to confirm it. The place where heaven feels quiet.

And yet, even here, God is still at work.

Today is not a day to rush past. It is a day to sit in the silence, to feel the weight, to remember what has been said, and to trust what has not yet been seen.

Take some time today, even just 15 to 30 minutes, and step away. Go for a walk. Let it be quiet. Let yourself feel what that tension might have been like for those who followed Him. The waiting. The uncertainty. The silence.

Because sometimes the quiet is not empty.

Sometimes it is preparation.

Prayer

Lord, help me trust You in the silence. When I don’t see what You are doing, remind me that You are still working. Teach me to wait with faith, even in the in-between. In Jesus’ name, amen.

2 Days Until Easter

Once again, lot’s of scripture this week as we lead up to Easter. Read today’s in your own Bible or at bible.com

Matthew 27:27–54

Luke 23:32–49

John 19:16–30

Isaiah 53:3–6

“But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities… and with his wounds we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:5) “When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, ‘It is finished,’ and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” (John 19:30)

Good Friday is not a day to rush past. This is the day where everything comes into full view, not in theory, not in symbol alone, but in reality. Jesus is arrested, beaten, mocked, and led to the cross. The same crowds that once shouted His name now fall silent or turn away, the disciples scatter, and what unfolds is not just a moment in the story, it is the cost of it.

One of the things that has always stood out to me about the cross is that while it is the most recognized symbol of Christianity, it was also the very real instrument of execution. It was not just meaningful, it was brutal. It was not just symbolic, it was where death actually took place. And yet that is what we look to. That is what we remember. That is what many of us even wear, not because of what it was, but because of what happened on it. There is something powerful about the reality that in order for us to live, He had to die.

And what makes it even more weighty is that this was not accidental. Jesus did not stumble into the cross. He was not caught off guard by what was happening. He knew. Every step toward it was intentional. Every moment was chosen. The betrayal, the suffering, the humiliation, the pain, all of it was endured with full awareness. This was not something happening to Him, this was something He was willingly walking into.

And that changes everything.

Because it means the cross is not just a moment of suffering, it is a moment of love. Not a reaction, but a decision. Not something forced, but something given. The depth of what happens on Good Friday is not just seen in what He endured, but in the fact that He chose to endure it. The One who had every reason to step away stayed. The One who could have stopped it allowed it. The One who knew exactly what it would cost still went forward.

That is the kind of love that is hard to fully take in.

And when He says, “It is finished,” it is not a statement of defeat, it is a declaration that everything required has been completed. The weight of sin, the separation, the cost, all of it has been carried and paid in full. From the outside, it looks like loss. It looks like silence. It looks like the end. But what is actually happening is the fulfillment of something far greater than anyone standing there could see.

And that is where Good Friday meets us.

Because there are moments in life that feel like endings, moments that feel heavy, unclear, or even silent, and it is easy to assume that nothing is happening in those spaces. But the cross reminds us that God does some of His deepest work in moments that look like the opposite of victory. What appears final is not always the end. What feels heavy is not without purpose. What looks like loss may actually be the place where something greater is being accomplished.

But before we move toward Sunday, we have to sit here. At the cross. Not rushing past it, not softening it, not skipping ahead, but seeing it for what it is. The full weight of sin. The full cost of redemption. And the full depth of a Savior’s love who chose it all, intentionally, for us.

In the famous words of S. M. Lockridge, it’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming.

Prayer

Lord, thank You for the cross. Thank You that You did not stumble into it, but chose it out of love. Help me never lose sight of what it cost and what it means. Teach me to live in response to that kind of love, with gratitude, surrender, and faith. In Jesus’ name, amen.

3 Days Until Easter

Once again, lot’s of scripture this week as we lead up to Easter. Read today’s in your own Bible or at bible.com

Matthew 26:17–30

Luke 22:14–23

John 13:1–17, 34–35

“And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, ‘This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.’” (Luke 22:19–20) “Now before the Feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour had come… having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.” (John 13:1) “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you…” (John 13:34)

Maundy Thursday carries a depth that is easy to miss if we move too quickly through it. The word Maundy comes from the Latin word for command, pointing to the moment where Jesus gives a new commandment, that we would love one another just as He has loved us, and that thread runs through everything that happens in this room. Everything slows down, but not in the same way as Wednesday. Wednesday was quiet in a hidden way, but Thursday is quiet and intentional, personal, close. Jesus gathers with His disciples around a table, and what takes place in that room is not loud or public, but it carries a weight that is hard to overstate, because this is not just a meal, this is a moment of connection. There is something about sitting at a table that makes things real. It is one thing to hear something from a distance, but it is another thing to sit close enough to feel it, to experience it, to let it settle in. Conversations at a table go deeper, they become more personal, more honest, more lasting, and that is exactly what Jesus is doing. He is not just teaching a crowd, He is sitting with His people.

What makes this moment even more powerful is that He knows exactly what is coming. He knows the cross is hours away. He knows betrayal is already in motion. He knows one of the people sitting at the table is about to walk out and hand Him over, and still He chooses to sit, still He chooses to serve, still He chooses to love. John tells us that He loved them to the end, and then shows us what that love looks like. Jesus gets up, wraps a towel around His waist, and begins washing the feet of His disciples. This was not a symbolic gesture to them, this was the lowest task in the room, and yet the One with all authority kneels down and serves. That is the kind of King He is, not distant, not removed, not above the moment, but fully present, fully engaged, fully loving.

Then He takes the bread and the cup and gives them new meaning. What had always been a reminder of what God had done in the past now becomes a declaration of what He is about to do. His body given, His blood poured out, a new covenant not built on repeated sacrifice, but on one final, complete act, and all of this is happening while tension sits in the room, because not everyone at the table is aligned. Judas is there, and that part should not be rushed past, because it reminds us that proximity does not equal surrender. You can be close to Jesus and still not be fully given to Him. You can hear His words, see His actions, sit at the table, and still have parts of your life moving in a different direction, and Jesus knows it, and still He does not stop the moment, He continues to love.

And that is where the command comes into focus. Love one another as I have loved you. Not in theory, not when it is easy, not only when it is returned, but in the same way He is loving in this very moment, with humility, with sacrifice, with full awareness, and without holding back. This is not just something to believe, it is something to live. This is the kind of love that serves when it is inconvenient, that stays when it would be easier to step away, that gives without needing anything in return, and that reflects the heart of Christ in a way that words alone never could.

That is what makes this so personal for us, because this is not just about a table then, it is about the invitation now. Jesus is still inviting us into relationship, not just activity, not just knowledge, but real connection, a connection that is honest and surrendered, where we are not just near Him, but actually walking with Him. Maundy Thursday reminds us that before the cross, there was a table, before the sacrifice, there was closeness, before everything unfolded, Jesus chose to draw His people near, and He is still doing that. The question is not whether the invitation is there, the question is how we respond to it, because it is possible to be close and still hold back, to be present and still not fully surrendered, and yet even knowing that, Jesus still sits at the table and still offers Himself.

As we move closer to Easter, this is an invitation to come closer, to be present, to let your relationship with Him go deeper than surface level, not just knowing about Him, but walking with Him, not just being near Him, but being fully His, and to love others in the same way He has loved us, because the same Jesus who sat at that table is the One who gave everything for us, and He is still inviting us in.

Prayer

Lord, thank You for inviting me into relationship with You. Help me not settle for being close without being surrendered. Teach me to love others the way You have loved me, with humility, sacrifice, and truth. Draw me deeper into real connection with You, where my heart is fully Yours. In Jesus’ name, amen.

4 Days Until Easter

Once again, lot’s of scripture this week as we lead up to Easter. Read today’s in your own Bible or at bible.com

Matthew 26:1–5
Mark 14:1–2
Luke 22:1–6
Isaiah 53:7

“When Jesus had finished all these sayings, he said to his disciples, ‘You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man will be delivered up to be crucified.’ Then the chief priests and the elders of the people gathered in the palace of the high priest… and plotted together in order to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him.” (Matthew 26:1–4) “For the Son of Man goes as it has been determined, but woe to that man by whom he is betrayed!” (Luke 22:22) “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter…” (Isaiah 53:7)

Holy Wednesday is quiet. After the intensity of Monday and the direct confrontation of Tuesday, everything seems to slow down. There is no major public moment, no crowds, no tables being flipped, no long public teaching, and yet that does not mean nothing is happening. Behind the scenes, everything is moving. Religious leaders are meeting in private, quietly finalizing their plans. Judas is stepping into the shadows, making arrangements that will change everything. And Jesus, fully aware of it all, is not reacting, not scrambling, not trying to regain control. He is waiting.

And if I am honest, that is one of the hardest things to do, because waiting has a way of exposing what we really trust. We live in a world where everything moves fast, where information is instant and responses are expected immediately. Even a short delay can feel frustrating. Waiting fifteen minutes can feel like an eternity, and if that waiting stretches out, it starts to weigh on you. I found myself doing that even recently, checking something over and over again, refreshing the page, wondering what the outcome would be. And even though I knew it probably would not matter that much in the long run, there was still that pull, that need to know, that small space where uncertainty starts to take root. That is the thing about waiting, even a little uncertainty can begin to grow into something bigger if we let it, because in the waiting we feel the lack of control, we feel the unknown, and we feel the silence.

That is exactly where Holy Wednesday sits. Jesus knows what is coming. He knows the cross is not just near, it is certain. He knows betrayal is already in motion. He knows the timeline, and still He does not rush it, He does not force a different outcome, and He does not break the silence. He submits to it. Isaiah had already said it would be this way, like a lamb led to the slaughter He would not open His mouth, not because He is powerless, but because He is surrendered, not because He is unaware, but because He trusts the Father completely. That is a different kind of strength, and it challenges us, because when we are in seasons where things feel unclear, when outcomes are not fully in our hands, when we are sitting in that space between what we know and what we do not know, our instinct is to reach for control, to figure it out, to push, to fix, to force movement. But Jesus shows us something different. He shows us that not every quiet season is empty. Some of them are full of purpose. Some of them are the very place where God is working the most, even if we cannot see it yet.

Holy Wednesday reminds us that just because it is quiet does not mean God is absent. It may mean that something is being prepared. And the question for us is not just what is happening around us, but what is happening within us while we wait, because waiting will either grow our trust or it will grow our anxiety, and often the difference comes down to what we choose to believe about God in the silence. As we move closer to Easter, this is an invitation to trust Him in the quiet, to trust Him in the unknown, to trust Him even when there is just enough uncertainty to make us uncomfortable, because the same God who was working behind the scenes on Wednesday was preparing for resurrection on Sunday, and He is still working, even when we cannot see it.

Prayer

Lord, help me trust You in the waiting. When I feel the tension of uncertainty and the pull to take control, remind me that You are still at work. Teach me to rest in Your timing and to trust that even in the silence, You are moving. In Jesus’ name, amen.

5 Days Until Easter

 Once again, lot’s of scripture this week as we lead up to Easter. Ready today’s in your own bible or at bible.com

Matthew 21:23 through Matthew 24

Holy Tuesday is one of those days that, if you really sit in it, it gets heavy in the best kind of way. This is not a quiet teaching moment. This is not Jesus easing people into truth. He walks back into the temple after what happened on Monday, and immediately the tension is there. The religious leaders step in and start questioning His authority, but this is not curiosity. This is control. They are trying to trap Him, discredit Him, and protect what they have built.

And Jesus does not sidestep it.

He leans all the way in.

He answers them, but then He goes further. He starts telling parables that expose what is really going on underneath the surface. The two sons, the tenants, the wedding feast. Every one of them is pulling back another layer. On the outside, everything looks right. Structure is there. Language is there. Position is there. But underneath it, there is resistance. There is a refusal to actually submit to what God is doing.

And this is where the day really sharpens.

Jesus is not just correcting behavior. He is confronting a heart posture. In Matthew 23, He speaks in a way that is direct, clear, and impossible to ignore. He calls out the reality of looking clean on the outside while being out of alignment on the inside. He calls out the danger of knowing the truth but not living it. He calls out the weight of leading others while not being surrendered yourself.

And here is what stands out.

He does all of this knowing exactly where the week is going.

He knows the cross is coming. He knows this is escalating everything. And He still speaks with full clarity. No softening. No pulling back. Because truth matters that much.

Then the conversation shifts, and this is where it goes even deeper. In Matthew 24, Jesus begins talking about what is coming. Not just what is about to happen in Jerusalem, but what is coming at the end. And the theme is the same. Be ready. Be watchful. Do not confuse proximity with alignment. Do not assume that being around spiritual things means you are actually walking with God.

That is the thread running through the entire day.

And if we are honest, this is where it starts to hit.

Because it is very possible to be around the things of God and still be out of alignment with Him. It is possible to know the language, to be in the environments, to be doing the right kinds of things, and still have areas of life that are not surrendered. It is possible to want truth when it comforts, but resist it when it corrects.

And Jesus is not okay leaving that alone.

Not because He is trying to push people away, but because He is trying to bring them into what is real.

Holy Tuesday is a day of alignment. It is Jesus stepping into the middle of everything and drawing a clear line between appearance and reality. Between knowing and living. Between being close and actually following.

And the question it leaves us with is simple but weighty.

Do I want to be affirmed, or do I want to be aligned?

Because truth will always do one of two things. It will either humble you, or it will harden you.

As we move closer to Easter, this is a moment to let truth do its work. Not just to hear it, not just to agree with it, but to actually let it shape the way we live.

Prayer

Lord, search my heart and show me anything that is out of alignment with You. Help me not settle for appearances when You are calling me to something deeper. Give me the humility to receive Your truth and the courage to walk it out. In Jesus’ name, amen.

6 Days Until Easter

Lot’s of scripture this week as we lead up to Easter :-)

Matthew 21:12–17

And Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you make it a den of robbers.” And the blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he healed them. But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” they were indignant, and they said to him, “Do you hear what these are saying?” And Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read, “‘Out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise’?” And leaving them, he went out of the city to Bethany and lodged there.

Mark 11:15–19

And they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold and those who bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. And he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple. And he was teaching them and saying to them, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.” And the chief priests and the scribes heard it and were seeking a way to destroy him, for they feared him, because all the crowd was astonished at his teaching. And when evening came they went out of the city.

Luke 19:45–48

And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold, saying to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a den of robbers.” And he was teaching daily in the temple. The chief priests and the scribes and the principal men of the people were seeking to destroy him, but they did not find anything they could do, for all the people were hanging on his words.

John 2:13–17

The Passover of the Jews was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found those who were selling oxen and sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers sitting there. And making a whip of cords, he drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and oxen. And he poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables. And he told those who sold the pigeons, “Take these things away; do not make my Father’s house a house of trade.” His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.”

Isaiah 56:7

these I will bring to my holy mountain, and make them joyful in my house of prayer; their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be accepted on my altar; for my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.”

Jeremiah 7:11

Has this house, which is called by my name, become a den of robbers in your eyes? Behold, I myself have seen it, declares the Lord.

I want to slow this one down a little, because Holy Monday is one of those moments that, if we rush past it, we miss how strong it really is. Jesus walks straight into the temple, the center of worship, and what He finds is not what it was meant to be. It is filled with noise, activity, systems, and transactions. Money changers are exchanging currency, merchants are selling animals for sacrifice, and while those things may have once served a purpose, they have now taken over the very thing they were meant to support. What was supposed to facilitate worship has begun to replace it.

And Jesus does not ease into this moment. He flips tables, drives people out, and declares that this place was meant to be a house of prayer, but it has become something else entirely. This is where the moment challenges the way many of us picture Him. We often imagine Jesus as always calm, always soft, always smiling, but here we see a different side. We see a rugged Jesus, full of conviction, unwilling to let what belongs to God be distorted or crowded out. This is not loss of control. This is holy, righteous zeal.

When He speaks, He is drawing directly from Scripture. He points back to Isaiah where God says His house is meant to be a house of prayer for all nations, and then to Jeremiah where the issue was not just corruption but people going through religious motions while their hearts were far from God. And here is what makes this even more significant. The space that had been taken over was the outer court, the very place designed for those on the outside to come and encounter God. The place meant to make room for people had been filled with distraction. What was supposed to draw people in had begun to push them away.

And Jesus clears it.

Then immediately, everything shifts. The blind are healed. The lame are healed. Children begin to praise Him. The same space that was filled with distraction is now filled with restoration and worship. That is not accidental. When Jesus removes what is out of place, He always makes room for what matters most.

And this is where it becomes personal, because now we are the temple. This is not just about a building, it is about our lives. It is worth asking honestly if there are things that have taken a place that belongs to God. Not always obvious sin, sometimes just noise, busyness, or even good things that have slowly crowded out prayer and intimacy with Him. We can still be active, still doing things, but something is off.

Holy Monday reminds us that Jesus is not passive about that. He loves us enough to step in and confront what is out of place, not to condemn us, but to restore what matters most. He does not cleanse the temple to leave it empty. He cleanses it so that His presence can fill it again, so that healing can happen again, and so that worship can rise again.

Prayer

Lord, search my heart and show me anything that has taken a place that belongs to You. Clear out the noise, the distractions, and anything that is crowding out my relationship with You. Restore in me a heart that is centered on Your presence, Your Word, and prayer. In Jesus’ name, amen.

7 Days Until Easter

Matthew 21:8–11

“Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, “Who is this?” And the crowds said, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee.””

In Matthew 21, Jesus enters Jerusalem in what we often call the triumphal entry. Crowds gather. People lay their cloaks on the road. Others cut branches and spread them out before Him. There is shouting, celebration, and a sense that something significant is happening. The atmosphere is filled with expectation.

Everyone feels like this is the moment.

And if I am honest, I have had moments like that in my own life.

Moments where it felt like everything was lining up. Where it seemed like God was clearly moving in a certain direction. Where I could almost see how things were going to play out. There is a certain excitement in those seasons. A confidence that what is coming next is going to unfold exactly the way you envision it.

But what I have learned over time is that just because I can see a direction does not mean I fully understand what God is doing.

The crowd in Jerusalem was not wrong to celebrate Jesus. They were right in recognizing that He was the King. But they misunderstood the kind of king He came to be. They were expecting immediate victory, visible change, and a kingdom that would take shape in a way they could fully grasp.

Instead, Jesus entered the city on a donkey.

Not in power as they imagined, but in humility. Not to take a throne in the way they expected, but to move toward a cross they did not see coming.

And that is where this passage becomes personal.

Because I have found that there are moments in life where I celebrate what I think God is doing, only to realize later that He was doing something deeper than I understood at the time. What looked like one kind of breakthrough was actually preparation. What felt like a clear direction was actually part of a bigger story I could not yet see.

That does not make those moments wrong.

It just means my perspective was limited.

The crowd’s praise was real, but incomplete. And in many ways, that is true for us as well. We can genuinely follow Jesus and still have moments where we do not fully understand His ways.

As we move closer to Easter, this passage invites us into a deeper kind of trust. Not just celebrating Jesus when things align with our expectations, but following Him even when His path looks different than what we had in mind.

Because the same King who entered Jerusalem in humility was moving toward something far greater than the crowd could imagine.

And often, God is doing the same in our lives.

Prayer

Lord, help me trust You not only in the moments that make sense, but also in the ones that don’t. When my expectations don’t match Your plans, give me the faith to keep following You. Teach me to trust that You are always working, even when I don’t fully understand. In Jesus’ name, amen.

8 Days Until Easter

Isaiah 50:6–7

“I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting. But the Lord God helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame.”

Isaiah 50 gives us a powerful glimpse into both the suffering and the resolve of the coming Messiah. In these verses, we see the reality of what Jesus would endure. He is struck, mocked, and humiliated, yet He does not turn away.

That is a striking picture.

Jesus does not stumble into suffering. He does not retreat from it. He faces it directly. The pain is real. The rejection is real. The shame is real. And yet He remains fully committed to what the Father has called Him to do.

Then Isaiah gives us this phrase.

He set His face like flint.

Flint is hard. It does not move easily. It is fixed, determined, unshaken. This is not a picture of someone reluctantly moving forward. It is a picture of unwavering resolve. Jesus knows exactly what is ahead, and He is fully committed to walking that path.

And the reason is clear.

Because the Lord helps Him.

This is not self-generated strength. It is not sheer willpower. It is confidence rooted in the presence and help of God. Jesus is able to move forward with unwavering determination because He knows He is not alone.

And this is where it begins to connect with our own lives.

I think there have been plenty of moments where I knew exactly what God was calling me to do, but everything in me wanted to take a step back instead of forward. It is rarely confusion that holds me back. Most of the time it is the weight of what obedience is going to cost. Whether that is stepping into something uncomfortable, having a difficult conversation, or making a decision that affects other people, there is usually a real tension there.

What I have found is that clarity from God does not remove the difficulty of the decision, but it does anchor me in it.

There have been moments where I have had to remind myself that if God is the one leading, then He is also the one sustaining. I do not have to manufacture the strength to walk it out on my own. My responsibility is obedience. His responsibility is everything else.

And practically, that often looks like taking the next step instead of trying to solve everything at once. When I start thinking too far ahead, it becomes overwhelming. But when I focus on simply saying yes to what God has put directly in front of me, it becomes manageable.

I also think back on the times where I have stepped forward in obedience and seen God show up. That track record matters. It builds confidence. It reminds me that even when the moment is difficult, God has been faithful before and He will be faithful again.

So when I think about setting my face like flint, it is not about becoming hard or unfeeling.

It is about becoming settled.

Settled in the fact that if God has called me to it, then turning back is not the better option. It is moving forward with quiet confidence, trusting that God will meet me there.

As we move closer to Easter, this passage reminds us that Jesus did not waver. He stepped forward with full awareness and full trust. And because He did, redemption was secured.

Prayer

Lord, give me the kind of resolve that trusts You fully. When the path is difficult, help me not turn away, but to move forward with confidence that You are with me. Strengthen me to walk in obedience, knowing that You are my help. In Jesus’ name, amen.