“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.

Breaking Bad

“My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.” (1 John 2:1-2)

Sin is a universal dilemma. As Romans 3:23 says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Yet, God’s grace is greater than our sin. However, Martin Luther cautioned, “To be convinced in our hearts that we have forgiveness of sins and peace with God by grace alone is the hardest thing.”

Lent is a time of deep self-reflection, a season to acknowledge our shortcomings and seek forgiveness and renewal through Christ. If we are honest, we all have a sin problem. Sin isn’t just about breaking rules—it’s about breaking a relationship, distancing ourselves from the God who loves us. The Apostle John encourages believers to strive for holiness, but he also reassures us that when we fail, we have an advocate—Jesus Christ.

Jesus is both our defense and our atoning sacrifice. He doesn’t just plead our case; He paid the price for our sin with his own life. His righteousness covers our guilt, and his grace gives us a new beginning. But this grace is not an excuse to remain in sin. John reminds us that if we truly know Jesus, we will aim to follow Jesus—guided by his teaching, emulating his example, and loving others as he loved us.

As we deal with the daily allure of sin, Jerry Bridges encourages us to remember, “Our worst days are never so bad that you are beyond the reach of God’s grace. And your best days are never so good that you are beyond the need of God’s grace.”

Lent challenges us to confront our sin honestly, not with despair, but with hope. Jesus has already solved our sin problem on the cross. Our response is to walk in his ways, abide in his love, and reflect his character to the world.

Reflection:
Where do you find the strength to deal with temptation? How regularly do you confess your sins to God? How can you apply God’s grace to your own shortcomings? What are some ways you can share the good news of God’s forgiveness with others?

Prayer:
Gracious Lord, I confess my sins before You. Thank You for sending Jesus as my advocate and for the grace that covers my failures. Help me to walk in Your ways, to obey Your commands, and to live in a way that reflects Your love. Strengthen me to turn from sin and draw closer to You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

My Strength and My Shield

A Lenten Devotional

“Praise be to the Lord, for he has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him.” 
-Psalm 28:6-7 (NIV)

What do you do when you feel susceptible and weak?

As we journey through Lent, a season of reflection and repentance, we encounter moments when we feel overwhelmed by vulnerability and insecurity. We are reminded of our need for God’s mercy and strength to sustain us. In Psalm 28, David cries out to God for help, and in verses 6-7, his cry turns to praise as he declares, “The Lord is my strength and my shield.”

Philip Yancey notes, “A God wise enough to create me and the world I live in is wise enough to watch out for me.”

During Lent, we are encouraged to confront our human frailty and dependence on God. It is a time to recognize the sin and brokenness in our lives and to seek God’s mercy. Like David, we can cry out to the Lord, trusting that God hears us. When we feel weak, overwhelmed, or vulnerable, we can take heart in knowing that God is not only the source of our strength but also our shield—protecting us in ways we cannot always see.

This season, may we embrace the truth of Psalm 28:7, allowing it to shape our prayers, our thoughts, and our actions. Let us trust in God’s strength and protection, knowing that even in our struggles, we are secure in His hands. And let our gratitude overflow in praise, as we prepare our hearts for the hope and renewal that Easter brings.

Recently while channel surfing, I came across an old episode of the popular sci-fi TV show, Star Trek. In the brief moment as I was watching, as the Starship Enterprise was about to be attacked by the Romulans, I heard Captain Kirk command, “Mr. Sulu, shield’s up!” This was a trademark command for the lieutenant commander to raise the shields, thus cloaking the ship with an invisible protective hull to defend against the attack from the enemy.

In moments when we deal with extraordinary challenges, when we experience elevated anxiety, when we confront adversarial forces, or when we are physically tired or emotionally spent, we should say to ourselves, “Shield’s up!” as we remind ourselves of the Lord’s strength and protection in all circumstances.

Reflection:
How can you trust in God’s strength and shield during this season of Lent? What causes you to feel vulnerable? In what areas of your life are you seeking to grow in grace and mercy? Rest in the truth that God hears you and will help you.

Prayer:
Lord, in this season of Lent, help me to trust you more deeply. When I feel weak, remind me that you provide sufficient energy for the challenges of life. When I feel vulnerable, remind me that you are my shield in all seasons. Amen.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who served as a leadership coach and columnist with the Center for Healthy Churches.)

(This was first published as part of Living Lent, a devotional book published by Morningstar Child and Family Services.)

Bruised But Not Broken: Clinging to Hope Through Tough Times

Life brings its share of losses—some expected, others blindsiding. But when hope fades, everything else can unravel. Without hope, even the strongest faith can feel as stagnant as swamp water.

During difficult seasons, hope is the energy source that fuels perseverance and ignites determination. Theologian Emil Brunner captured this truth well: “What oxygen is to the lungs, such is hope to the meaning of life.” Without it, we suffocate in despair.

Micah, a prophet called to speak during one of Israel’s darkest times, refused to let despair take hold. Surrounded by corruption, injustice, and looming disaster, Micah declared:

“But as for me, I watch in hope for the LORD, I wait for God my Savior; my God will hear me.” (Micah 7:7)

More than 2,500 years later, our hope in Christ remains our most reliable source for spiritual strength and courage. No matter how uncertain the circumstances, we work for positive change, we advocate for the underserved and underprivileged, and we lean into the promise that “with God all things are possible.” (Matthew 19:26)

Hope Is Not Naive

We live in an era saturated with gloom and pessimism. Division and discontent dominate the national conversation. And perhaps most troubling, this sense of despair has seeped into the church—a place meant to be a beacon of hope.

If the church, called to be the light of the world and the salt of the earth (Matthew 5:13), surrenders to hopelessness, we risk rushing toward an apocalyptic future of our own making.

But real hope—the kind we see in Micah—is neither blind nor naive. It does not ignore reality. Instead, true hope compels us to rise above despair, face challenges with faith, and respond with wisdom and action.

The Arrogance of Despair

Years ago, pastor John Claypool had a sobering conversation with an elderly rabbi, a friend and fellow advocate in the civil rights movement. After a particularly frustrating meeting, Claypool sighed, “I think it’s hopeless. The problem is too deep, too complex. There’s simply no way out.”

The rabbi paused and then said something profound:

“Humanly speaking, despair is presumptuous. It assumes we know the future, but we don’t. Think of the times you thought something was hopeless, only to be surprised when unseen forces shifted everything. If God can create something out of nothing, if He can bring life from death, who are we to place limits on what He can do?”

That wisdom still speaks today. We do not have the luxury of declaring a situation hopeless because we are not the authors of the story.

The Rekindling of Hope

In the movie Hope Floats, the main character, Birdee Pruitt, describes hope this way:

“Beginnings are scary. Endings are usually sad. But it’s the middle that counts the most. Just give hope a chance to float up.”

Even when you think you’ve lost it, hope can emerge after a season of dormancy. Like stirring warm embers to rekindle a fire, real hope can be revived. It is nurtured when we commit to “act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God” (Micah 6:8)—even when the path is difficult, even when we can’t yet see the way forward.

Hope is not an emotion. It’s a decision. And when we choose hope, we align ourselves with the God who makes the impossible possible.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who currently serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches.)