Learning the Unforced Rhythms of Grace

In a world that praises hustle and rewards burnout, Jesus offers something profoundly countercultural: rest. Not the kind of rest you squeeze in between meetings or tack onto the end of an overbooked week, but real rest—the kind that restores the soul, quiets the mind, and invites us back into wholeness.

In Matthew 11:28–30 (The Message), Jesus extends an invitation: “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me… Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.”

These words, so aptly paraphrased by Eugene Peterson, feel less like a command and more like a gentle hand on the shoulder, drawing us toward something better than exhaustion: grace.

Learning to Rest Is a Strength, Not a Weakness

In her book Invitation to Silence and Solitude, Ruth Haley Barton writes, “Because we do not rest, we lose our way… Poisoned by the hypnotic belief that good things come only through unceasing determination and tireless effort, we can never truly rest.”

It’s easy to assume that if we stop, we’ll fall behind. But Jesus flips the script—he teaches that rest is not an interruption to spiritual formation; it is spiritual formation. It’s how we learn to hear his voice above the noise.

A Gentle Yoke in a Demanding World

Jesus invites us to “take his yoke”—a farming tool once used to link animals for shared work. But his yoke isn’t burdensome. It’s custom-fit, gentle, and shared. We don’t pull alone. We’re yoked with Christ, walking in step with his grace.

Years ago, I met a retired pastor who had served faithfully for five decades. When I asked him his secret to longevity, he said simply, “I finally learned to walk at God’s pace.” That’s what Jesus means by unforced rhythms—it’s grace that moves in time with heaven, not the chaos of the calendar.

Grace for the Weary and Wounded

In times of loss, confusion, or fatigue, grace meets us quietly and consistently. It is:

  • An antidote for anxiety
  • A remedy for restlessness
  • Decompression for depression
  • Antivenom for sin

Grace is what saves us when we can’t save ourselves. It guides when we’re lost, comforts when we’re hurting, and encourages when the odds are stacked against us. It even carries us when we don’t know the way forward.

How Do We Learn These Rhythms?

  • Come to Jesus—not just once, but daily
  • Take his yoke—release the burdens you were never meant to carry alone
  • Learn from him—observe his gentleness, humility, and wisdom
  • Rest in him—receive the peace that only grace can give

This isn’t just self-care. It’s soul care. It’s a way of life Jesus modeled—and a way of life he still invites us to follow.

John Mark Comer reminds us, “Transformation is possible if we are willing to arrange our lives around the practices, rhythms, and truths that Jesus himself did, which will open our lives to God’s power to change.”

So today, let grace interrupt your hurry.
Let grace reframe your expectations.
Let grace teach you how to breathe again.

Because in Christ, we’re not called to hustle harder—we’re called to finish the race at the speed of grace.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who now serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife live on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)

(This post is a summary of a sermon I shared in 2023.)

Dancing with the Mystery: 5 Reflections on the Trinity

C.S. Lewis proposed, “In Christianity God is not a static thing … but a dynamic, pulsating activity, a life, almost a kind of drama — almost, if you will not think me irreverent, a kind of dance.”

Every year, the first Sunday after Pentecost invites Christians to linger over the greatest known unknown of the faith: God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In the church of my upbringing, as we affirmed the holiness of God, we sang, “God in three persons, blessed Trinity!”

1. The word Trinity never appears in Scripture, yet the biblical story keeps naming a tri-personal God who creates, redeems, and indwells the world. The pattern of God’s threefold nature emerges from the core of the biblical message:

  • At creation, God speaks the world into being, the Spirit hovers over the waters, and together they bring life (Gen 1:1–2, 26).
  • At Jesus’ baptism, the heavens open, the Father speaks, the Spirit descends, and the Son stands in the water—an unmistakable picture of divine community (Matt 3:16–17).
  • At the Great Commission, Jesus sends his followers out in the name—not names—of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (Matt 28:19).

So while the term came later, the concept of a triune God was there from the beginning.

2. From the beginning, God is introduced as intra-communal in nature. Genesis does more than recount cosmic origins; it unveils a God who is relationship itself. Before mountains were sculpted or stars ignited, Father, Son, and Spirit shared eternal fellowship. Theologian Cornelius Plantinga once put it this way: “The persons within God exalt each other, commune with each other, and defer to one another. Each harbors the others at the center of their being.” In other words, God is a perfect community of mutual love and unity.

3. Metaphors give us a point of reference for the Trinity but are insufficient to fully capture the essence of God’s being. Stories help us speak about the unspeakable, yet every image has limits. Saint Patrick, so legend says, plucked a shamrock to illustrate “three in one” for the Irish clans. It was a winsome start, but the plant cannot convey the depth of divine personhood. Water (steam, liquid, ice) risks modalism; the sun (star, light, heat) flirts with subordinationism. Good metaphors open doors; they are not blueprints of the mystery.

4. The Trinity is best contemplated in the rich diversity of perspectives, not a singularly authoritative definition. Western theology tends to speak of one essence in three persons (think Augustine and the Athanasian Creed); Eastern writers prefer the word perichoresis—an eternal, mutual inter-dwelling. Both vocabularies circle the same fire from different sides.

5. The persons of the Trinity have different roles but one mission. Since the notion of Trinity refers to the intra-communal nature of God, the roles and objectives assumed by the members of the Trinity do not counter of contradict the other. Within the Trinity, the Father creates, the Son redeems, and the Spirit empowers, but they are never in conflict. Every movement of God throughout history flows from one divine source, with each person of the Trinity working in perfect harmony toward the restoration of all things.

In his book, Thinking About God: An Introduction to Christian Theology, Fisher Humphreys concludes his chapter on the Trinity with this summary:

In some wonderful and mysterious way, the one, true, living God is eternally Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. These Three Persons live a life of knowing and being known, of speaking and listening, of trusting and being trusted, of loving and being loved. As astonishing as it may seem, we human beings are called to share in their eternal life. We have already begun to share in the love of the Father, Son, and Spirit, and we will be enfolded in their life and love throughout eternity.

Trinity Sunday is about recognizing that the deepest truths of God are relational, mysterious, and gloriously beyond containment. The Trinity is not a diagram to be drawn, but a mystery to be received.

Let us dance with that mystery, even though we cannot fully comprehend the choreography.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who now serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife live on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)

Where Is God When the Bad Stuff Happens?

Where is God when bad things happen?

Across the ages, this question has perplexed and haunted those weighed down by grief, suffering, and pain. Theologians and philosophers have wrestled with scripture and reason in search of understanding. Pastors and counselors still search for words that offer hope to hearts broken by tragedy.

The Bible doesn’t sugarcoat the harshness of life. In Psalm 13:1–2, the psalmist gives voice to what it feels like to be forsaken in moments of anguish:

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Chaos wears many faces. A hurricane flattens homes and lives. An earthquake strikes without warning. A disease creeps in uninvited. A drunk driver kills an innocent teenager. And every time, the question echoes again: Where is God in this?

Some respond with platitudes. But trite clichés often feel hollow—or even offensive—to those walking through the valley of sorrow. Answering this question too casually can seem dismissive. But ignoring it would leave too many stranded in silence.

So I won’t pretend to offer a one-size-fits-all answer. Instead, I’ll share what I’ve come to believe—hoping that even a flicker of light might help someone see more clearly in a dark place.

1. Life is not fair.

I used to believe that if I prayed, obeyed, and lived faithfully, God would shield me from life’s storms. But life doesn’t follow that formula. God is good, yes—but God never promised that life would be fair. Life is hard. And faith isn’t an escape hatch—it’s an anchor.

As beloved author Frederick Buechner suggested, “Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”

Faith helps us face the beautiful and the terrible with courage.

2. Suffering does not discriminate.

No one is immune. Tornadoes don’t skip homes based on church attendance. Illness doesn’t scan for spiritual résumés. We live in a world still scarred by sin, and its consequences touch the just and the unjust alike. Faith doesn’t exempt us—it equips us.

3. God is present in the chaos.

God does not orchestrate suffering as punishment or test. God is not the author of chaos, but the Redeemer within it. The Holy Spirit—God’s presence—lives within us to comfort, convict, and guide. God also shows up through the Church—when we bring love, healing, and hope to others.

Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist Viktor Frankl observed, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”

Faith doesn’t always change our circumstances—but it transforms our response.

4. God invites us to walk by faith, not by sight.

Why do bad things happen to good people? Why are some healed and others not? Why did Jesus raise Lazarus, but not everyone? Maybe those moments of healing are glimpses—previews—of what God will one day do fully and finally. Even Lazarus died again. Earthly healing is temporary. Eternal hope is permanent.

I still believe in prayer. I believe in hope, medicine, community, and grace. But there are no formulas—only an invitation to walk by faith with courage and perseverance.

5. God is at work, but not always in ways we can see or evaluate.

Romans 8:28 assures us, “In all things God works for the good of those who love him.”

God doesn’t cause all things—but God works within all things. Often, God works through us. We are Christ’s hands and feet in a hurting world. When we show up with compassion, we reflect the God who never leaves us.

So, where is God when the bad stuff happens?

God is present. Not with easy answers or magical fixes—but with sustaining grace, resilient hope, and a faithful presence that never lets go.

Especially in the seasons when I wrestle with the unknowns, I hold to the promise that God is here. And even the smallest glimpse of God’s presence encourages me to keep pressing on.

(Barry Howard is a retired minister who currently serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)

(This column is taken from a message I shared at FBC Pensacola after the community experienced multiple hurricanes, a catastrophic oil spill, and more than a few unexpected deaths.)

“My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, and I Don’t Love Jesus”

One of Jimmy Buffett’s more unusual song titles has always struck me as confessional:“ My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink, and I Really Don’t Love Jesus.”

At first glance, that may feel jarring—even offensive. But sometimes, brutal honesty says what softer words can’t.

Long before moving to the coast of Florida, I loved the music of Jimmy Buffett. Though many of the lyrics are not Sunday morning pulpit material, I think Buffett may have given voice to something that a lot of people quietly feel: life is overwhelming, I’m exhausted, and if this is what religion is, I’m not buying it.

There’s a sobering passage in the Bible that feels strangely modern. It comes from Paul’s second letter to Timothy, chapter 3, verses 1–9 (The Message):

“Don’t be naive. There are difficult times ahead. As the end approaches, people are going to be self-absorbed, money-hungry, self-promoting, stuck-up, profane, contemptuous of parents, crude, coarse, dog-eat-dog, unbending, slanderers, impulsively wild, savage, cynical, treacherous, ruthless, bloated windbags, addicted to lust, and allergic to God. They’ll make a show of religion, but behind the scenes they’re animals. Stay clear of these people… They get exploited every time and never really learn… But nothing will come of these latest impostors. Everyone will see through them…”

Paul paints a picture of a society unraveling—where people are self-absorbed, cynical, addicted to chaos, and allergic to God. He warns of those who put on a show of religion but live like animals behind the curtain.

And then Paul says: “Stay clear of these people.”

Now that’s a hard line. But maybe it’s not about avoiding people in pain. Maybe it’s about being wise enough to walk away from shallow religion so we can offer something real.

Because here’s the truth: people are hurting. And they’re not looking for performance—they’re looking for peace.

When Your Head Hurts: Life Can Be Heavy

We live in an age of anxiety, distraction, and noise. People are overwhelmed—mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Church clichés don’t help. Quoting verses out of context doesn’t help. What people long for is honest faith that doesn’t pretend to have all the answers but still clings to hope.

We all know someone (maybe it’s you) who’s tired of the game—tired of pretending everything’s okay. Maybe faith has become foggy. Maybe the pain has been too heavy. And in those moments, the last thing people need is shallow religion.

What they need is a Savior who doesn’t flinch at the truth.

When Your Feet Stink: The journey can be exhausting.

“Feet stink” is just a gritty way of saying: I’m worn out.
Life has been a long journey. Some people are exhausted from walking it alone—or worse, walking it while being judged by those who say they follow Jesus.

But here’s the beauty of the real gospel: Jesus doesn’t keep his distance from the dirty. He kneels. He washes feet. He welcomes the weary. And he still does.

What if the church looked more like a basin and towel, and less like a stage?

“I Really Don’t Love Jesus”: Honest confession is a good place to start.

This may be the most painful line in the song—but also the most honest. Some people don’t feel any affection for Jesus because the version they were shown was twisted, manipulative, or weaponized.

But often, when people say they don’t love Jesus, what they really mean is:
“I’ve never met the real One.”

And that’s where we come in—not to argue or defend, but to embody Christ.
To show them a Jesus who is full of grace and truth. A Jesus who welcomes doubt, heals wounds, confronts injustice, and never stops loving.

Staying Clear and Staying Compassionate

Paul’s warning to “stay clear” wasn’t about cutting off the brokenhearted. It was about stepping away from religious performance—from counterfeit faith that values appearance over authenticity.

Because in a world addicted to the fake, authenticity is the most powerful witness.

Let’s be real. Let’s be honest. Let’s be kind.

So yes—some people’s heads hurt. Some are worn out. And some aren’t sure they love Jesus at all.

But what if they haven’t been rightly introduced? What if their view has been blocked by loud religion and quiet hypocrisy?

Let’s be the ones who live with humble faith.
Let’s create space for hard questions and honest searching.
Let’s love people right where they are.

Because when someone meets the real Jesus—not the bumper-sticker version, not the political mascot, but the crucified and risen Savior—they just might find that their headache eases, their feet find rest, and their heart begins to soften.

And maybe, just maybe, they will grow to genuinely love and follow Jesus.

As the Winds of Time Blow: 10 Ways to Navigate the Changing Seasons of Life

Life is full of seasons—some bright and full of joy, others challenging and uncertain. Just as nature moves from spring to summer, fall to winter, we also experience transitions in relationships, careers, health, and faith.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 affirms, “To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven.”

Change is inevitable, but how we navigate these shifts can shape our growth and resilience. Marie Dee cautions, “If you stay stuck in the past season or fixated on the future season, you will miss the one you’re in.”

Whether you’re entering a season of renewal or walking through a time of hardship, here are 10 ways to navigate life’s changing seasons with wisdom and grace:

1. Learn to be faithful and flexible. Faithfulness and adaptability are not mutually exclusive. Change is constant, and it can be uncomfortable at times. However, resisting it only makes the transition harder. Accepting that life moves in seasons allows us to adapt with greater peace and confidence. Trust that each new chapter holds purpose, even if you can’t see it yet.

2. Lean into your faith. Uncertainty can feel overwhelming, but God is constant. Seek God’s guidance through prayer, Scripture, and quiet reflection. Faith does not exempt us from change, but it can serve as a compass to help us navigate change.

3. Let go of what you no longer need. Not everything (or everyone) is meant to journey with you into the next season. Holding onto outdated habits, practices, relationships, or relics can keep you from growing into who you are meant to be. Just as trees shed their leaves in autumn, sometimes we must release the past to make room for the future.

4. Stay rooted in gratitude. In seasons of uncertainty, gratitude shifts our focus from what we lack to what we have. Take time each day to acknowledge the blessings around you. Even in difficult times, there is always something to be thankful for.

5. Stay connected to spiritual community. Life’s transitions are easier when you’re surrounded by supportive people who offer encouragement and wisdom. Seek out mentors, trusted friends, or faith leaders who can help you navigate unfamiliar territory with clarity and perspective.

6. Continue learning and growing. Each season—whether joyful or challenging—teaches us something valuable. Instead of asking, “Why is this happening to me?” shift the question to, “What is this season teaching me?” Growth happens when we are willing to learn from the experiences life brings our way.

7. Prioritize self-care. Transitions can be exhausting, so take good care of your body, mind, and spirit. Eat well, rest, exercise, and nurture your spiritual life. A well-cared-for heart and mind will help you face change with greater strength.

8. Be patient with yourself and others. Adjusting to a new season takes time. Don’t rush the process or compare your journey to others. Give yourself grace, knowing that transitions are part of life’s unfolding story. And exercise the same patience toward others who may be struggling to adjust to a new season as well.

9. Find joy in the present moment. It’s easy to focus on what’s ahead or dwell on what’s behind, but true peace and joy are always found in the here and now. Look for moments of joy, laughter, and beauty, even in uncertain times. Henri Nouwen reminds us, “Joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day.”

10. Keep moving forward with hope. No season lasts forever. If you’re in a difficult one, live as though brighter days areahead. If you’re in a season of joy, cherish it fully. With faith, resilience, and an open mind, you can step into each new chapter with confidence.

In addressing the impact of cultural shifts and societal changes, Malcolm Gladwell, author of The Tipping Point, contends, “You need to have the ability to gracefully navigate the world.”  

Navigating the changing seasons of life isn’t always easy, but it is always possible—with faith, wisdom, and courage. No matter what season you find yourself in today, make the most of that season, and you will be better prepared to navigate the seasons yet to come.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who currently serves as a leadership coach and columnist for the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)

5 Reasons to Reboot: Lessons from a Smartphone

We all know the moment: your phone starts acting strangely—apps freeze, battery drains fast, and everything slows to a crawl. Tech support’s first advice? “Have you tried turning it off and back on again?”

As it turns out, that same principle applies to our faith. As we deal with the multiple influences and pressures of life, Kris Gage reminds us, “Sometimes the best way to move forward is to stop where you are and hit reset.”

Just as our smartphones need an occasional reboot to clear out digital junk and recalibrate, our spiritual lives benefit from periodic resets. Here are five reasons why rebooting your faith is essential—and how it can renew your connection with God.

1. To Clear Spiritual Clutter

Phones accumulate digital debris—temporary files, cookies, cached data. Over time, all that clutter slows down performance.

Our faith can gather clutter too: half-truths, distractions, unchecked assumptions. Rebooting spiritually clears the mental and emotional cache, making room for the teachings of Jesus to flow freely again.

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” — Psalm 51:10

2. To Realign with the Operating System

Every smart device has a central OS that governs how it runs. For the Jesus follower, our operating system is the message and mission of Christ.

When we reboot, we allow God to reset our priorities, renew our minds, and align our hearts with His purpose.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” —Romans 12:2

3. To Remove Corrupt Data

Malware and corrupt files can sneak into our devices quietly—and they do the same in our minds. False narratives, toxic theology, or legalism can distort our view of God and others.

Rebooting invites the Holy Spirit to expose and erase the lies we’ve believed and replace them with grace and truth.
“Test everything; hold fast what is good.” —1 Thessalonians 5:21

4. To Improve Connection

When your Wi-Fi signal drops, it can feel like you’re disconnected from the world. Spiritually, we experience similar moments—when prayer feels dry or God feels distant.

A spiritual reboot can restore connection. Turn things off. Be still. Listen. Reconnect with Scripture. Rest. Refocus. Re-vision. You’ll be surprised how strong the signal comes back.

“Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.” —James 4:8

5. To Prevent a Crash

We often ignore the warning signs—just like when our phones start lagging. But ignoring your soul’s warning signs can lead to burnout, bitterness, or spiritual apathy.

A regular reboot is a form of soul care. It’s how we stay grounded, avoid a crash, and continue running with purpose and clarity.

“Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength…” —Isaiah 40:31

We don’t throw our phones away when they start acting up—we reset them. In the same way, God doesn’t discard us when we drift. Rather, God lovingly invites us to reset, refresh, and reboot.

As the cell phone revolution advanced, Jimmy Fallon quipped, “A new survey out says 64 percent of Americans own a smartphone. Which is interesting because in a related survey, 100 percent of smart phones say they own an American.”

Rebooting is a way to realign with your faith and to keep the spam, the cookies, the conspiracies, and the heresies from owning you.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who currently serves as leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)

Love Is a Verb

A Maundy Thursday Reflection

On Maundy Thursday, we remember one of the most intimate and powerful evenings in the life of Jesus. Gathered in an upper room with his disciples, just hours before his betrayal, Jesus told them, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (John 13:34).

Love is action-oriented. Stephen Covey contended, “Love is a verb. Love—the feeling—is a fruit of love, the verb.”

It’s one thing to talk about love. It’s another to live it. Jesus didn’t just tell his disciples to love one another—He showed them. He got down on his knees and washed their feet. He broke bread and shared wine. He spoke tenderly of what was to come, even as he prepared to endure suffering on behalf of the very ones seated at the table.

Love Is Humble

The Son of God, the one through whom all things were made, picked up a towel and served. In a culture where washing feet was the job of the lowest servant, Jesus flipped the script. He demonstrated that love doesn’t seek status or recognition. It stoops. It serves. It sees others as worthy of our time, our care, and our compassion.

Love Is Faithful

Jesus knew that Judas would betray him. He knew Peter would deny Him. He knew the others would scatter in fear. Still, he broke the bread. Still, he offered the cup. Still, he washed their feet. His love didn’t waver based on how others treated him. His love remained faithful, even in the face of betrayal and abandonment.

Love Is Sacrificial

As the shadows grew longer that night, Jesus set His eyes on the cross. Not because he was powerless to avoid it, but because he was committed to a love that would redeem the world. Paul David Tripp proposes, “Love is willing self-sacrifice for the good of another that does not require reciprocation or that the person being loved is deserving.” Maundy Thursday reminds us that love costs something. It’s not always easy or convenient. The mandate Jesus gave is action-oriented. In the gospel Jesus preached, love is a verb.

Love Is Commanded

“Maundy” comes from the Latin mandatum, meaning “commandment.” It points to Jesus’ words in John 13:34: “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” This wasn’t a gentle suggestion—it was a divine directive. It is easy to love God. It is often difficult to love others. Yet one is a reflection of the other. If we call ourselves his followers, then love must be our way of life. Not just love in theory, but love in action.

Love Is a Verb

It’s not just how we feel—it’s what we do. On Maundy Thursday, we’re invited to remember that love is meant to be lived. Whether we are washing feet, sharing a meal, forgiving a wrong, or standing beside someone in their pain, we are called to be people who love with hands and feet, with humility and courage, with grace and truth.

So on this Maundy Thursday, may we do more than recall a sacred meal or a basin and towel. May we recommit ourselves to the path Jesus walked—the path of servant-hearted, sacrificial, unwavering love.

Because love is more than a word.
Love is a verb.

Cleansed from a Guilty Conscience

A Lenten Devotional

15 The Holy Spirit also testifies to us about this. First he says: 16 This is the covenant I will make with them after that time, says the Lord. I will put my laws in their hearts, and I will write them on their minds.”
17 Then he adds: “Their sins and lawless acts I will remember no more.” 18 And where these have been forgiven, sacrifice for sin is no longer necessary.
19 Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, 20 by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, 21 and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 22 let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. 23 Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. 24 And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, 25 not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.
Hebrews 10:15-25 NIV

Three of the heaviest elements in the universe are guilt, worry, and fear. And guilt may be the weightiest of them all. Let me illustrate…

Long before mobile phones became the primary means of communication, my landline rang at 2:30 in the morning. Late-night calls usually meant either an emergency or a wrong number. Startled from my sleep, I grabbed the phone, bracing for bad news.

The voice on the other end was both frantic and familiar. It was a church member—let’s call him Tommy—apologizing for calling at such an hour but desperate for help.

I had known Tommy for years. He was a good man—a devoted husband and father—but that night, he was drowning in guilt, overwhelmed by the weight of his past mistakes. His words came in waves of anguish:

“I am undeserving of God’s grace.”
“I’m not sure that Jesus can forgive my sins.”

As a young pastor, I was relieved this wasn’t a trauma call, but I also felt the weight of Tommy’s burden. Half-awake, I silently prayed for wisdom before gently offering three thoughts:

  1. “Feeling undeserving is actually a prerequisite for receiving grace.”
  2. “I don’t know which sin is troubling you most, but if it falls under the Ten Commandments, rest assured—you are covered by Christ’s sacrifice.”
  3. “For thousands of years, God has forgiven the sins of countless people. It would be a little arrogant to assume you’re the exception.”

There was a long pause. Then, in a softened voice, Tommy said, “I’ve never thought about it that way before. I think you’re right. Even my sins can be forgiven.”

Lent is a season of reflection and repentance. As we reflect on the suffering and sacrifice of Christ, Hebrews 10 reminds us that through Jesus’ death, we are cleansed from a guilty conscience, free to draw near to God with full assurance of faith.

Like Tommy, many of us struggle with guilt, questioning whether God’s grace could truly extend to us. But the message of the cross is clear: Jesus bore the weight of every sin—past, present, and future. His sacrifice was not partial or conditional; it was complete.

Because of Christ, we no longer have to live under the shadow of guilt. We can approach God with confidence, knowing that God’s mercy is greater than our mistakes and God’s grace is deeper than our failures.

Reflection:
How do you navigate feelings of guilt? Are there any sins weighing on you that you need to confess? Do you need to remind yourself that the sins of your past have already been forgiven?

Prayer:
Gracious God, thank you for forgiving the worst in us so that you can bring out the best in us. Help us to trust in your mercy and walk in the freedom of your grace. Amen.

Exploring the Mystery

A Lenten Devotional

27 To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. 28 He is the one we proclaim, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone fully mature in Christ. 29 To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me.
Colossians 1:27-29

Neil Armstrong, who had firsthand experience exploring the mysteries of the universe, noted, “Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man’s desire to understand.”

Everyone loves a good mystery. The twists, turns, and the ultimate revelation can be thrilling.

One morning several years ago, I received a call from the popular TV show “Unsolved Mysteries” asking permission to film an episode on our church campus. At first, I thought the call was a hoax, but as I listened to the inquiry, I realized the caller was referring to a mystery involving a member of our community who had disappeared at sea many years ago while serving in the Navy.

Interestingly, when I saw the episode eventually produced by “Unsolved Mysteries” I noted that the program did not solve the mystery, they only explored the mystery.

In Colossians 1:27, Paul probed a different kind of mystery, one that had been hidden for ages but is now being fleshed out in God’s people: “Christ in you, the hope of glory.” This mystery is not an unsolved riddle but an evolving reality of God’s plan to bring life transformation to all through Christ.

As followers of Jesus, why is our relationship with God a mystery? Perhaps it’s a mystery because the mechanics of how faith brings individuals to life cannot be fully explained. It could be considered a mystery because the work of the Spirit is hidden to the naked eye. Or maybe it’s called a mystery because we are a work in progress, still learning, growing, and maturing, and not yet complete.

In Colossians 2:6-7, Paul urges believers to “walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith.” We are invited to probe this mystery and live out of the wellspring of our relationship with Jesus each day.

A life rooted and grounded in Christ is not easily shaken. Brenning Manning reminds us, “The more rooted we are in the love of God, the more generously we will live out our faith.”

Reflection:

Where do you sense the divine mystery at work in your life? What are some things that inspire you with awe and wonder? What are some steps we can take to become more rooted and grounded in our faith?

Prayer:

We thank you for the incredible mystery that you have chosen to work in us and through us. As we journey through life, may we always be in tune with your Spirit who is shaping us into your likeness. Root us deeply in your truth and unite us in your love. Amen.

Keeping Worry in Check

A Lenten Devotional
Luke 10:38-42

38 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39 She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. 40 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” 41 “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”  Luke 10:38-42

Worry, if not kept in check, can leave us emotionally drained, spiritually anxious, and even physically unwell. Yet, God calls us to trust him rather than be consumed by worry. For our faith to increase, our tendency to worry must decrease.

Lent is a time for self-reflection. How well do you keep worry in check?

In Luke 10, we see Martha, eager to host Jesus in her home, become overwhelmed with the many details of hospitality. While her intentions were good, her worry and distraction robbed her of the opportunity to be fully present with Jesus. In contrast, Mary chose to sit at the Lord’s feet, listening to His words. When Martha voiced her frustration, Jesus gently reminded her, “You are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better.”

Worry is not a spiritual virtue; it is a human tendency. We worry about finances, health, relationships, politics, and countless other uncertainties. But what is worry? Worry is an anxious preoccupation with the future, often rooted in fear or doubt. Erma Bombeck famously said, “Worry is like a rocking chair; it gives you something to do but never gets you anywhere.” Worry drains our energy, clouds our judgment, and keeps us from fully trusting God.

Jesus was not dismissing Martha’s responsibilities; He was inviting her to shift her focus. There is a difference between worry and concern. Worry paralyzes us with fear over what might happen. Concern, on the other hand, acknowledges challenges and seeks solutions in faith.

Like Mary, we are called to prioritize the presence of Jesus above our anxieties. When we spend time in His presence—through prayer, Scripture, and worship—our perspective shifts, and our worries lose their grip. As Elizabeth George writes in Breaking the Worry Habit…Forever!, “Worry denies the power of God and produces no good results. Worry adds no value to your life. Eliminate it with God’s help.”

Reflection:
What are the things you tend to worry about the most?How can you replace worry with faith and deepen your trust in God? Have you asked God to help you eliminate your worry habit?

Prayer:
Lord, grant us the peace that surpasses understanding. Teach us to release our worries and rest in your presence. When we are tempted to be anxious, remind us that you are our refuge and strength. Help us, like Mary, to choose what is better—to sit at your feet and trust in your unfailing love. Amen.