For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.

~Romans 8:13

I recently heard a great analogy from a pastor visiting our church. The overarching theme was for believers to truly live the John 10:10 abundant life by being crucified with Christ and dying to self (Galatians 2:20). The teaching wove together Old and New Testament truths and was chock-full of challenging nuggets and visual comparisons. It was one of his examples from nature—specifically regarding dandelions—that got my mind spinning to expand upon and share his brief reference. 

Although we’re likely all familiar with this ubiquitous weed, I first had to dive into learning more about the properties of dandelions. Allow me to elaborate:

1. The bright yellow flowering head looks attractive (and is).
2. The stems are hollow.
3. The taproots are long and hinder other plants from growing.
4. They compete with and crowd out desired plants.
5. They are not only fast-growing, but they’re relentless—pushing their way through even the tiniest sidewalk cracks.
6. When the roots are superficially cut, they actually clone, so they quickly multiply.

Are bells and whistles going off for your spirit? Sounds an awful lot like sin, doesn’t it? Attractive on the surface, it’s only full of hollow promises for satisfaction. Fleshly activity competes for attention over the spiritual, hindering godly fruit from being realized. When a crack in our spiritual armor is found, sin pushes through oh so tenaciously. And just as overgrowth of dandelions can destroy a lawn, the final outgrowth of sin is death (James 1:15). (Each of these warrants its own devo!)

But let’s examine factoid #6: Managing dandelions is not an option. If you’ve got a yard where dandelions spring up, you know that the easiest way to get rid of them is to simply mow over them. The resulting lawn looks green and lush and healthy—from the observing eye. A day or so later, they pop back up. Often multiplied. See, dandelions must be uprooted or destroyed at the root level to really be rid of them. 

Beloved, the same is true with the sin in our lives! This is where the pastor used dandelions as one of his many examples of dying to self. See, too often we clip away the outward activity or habits that sprout up from our old sin nature. We can even make ourselves look tidy and “weedless” to our family, friends, and church. But those entrenched sins will rear their ugly heads again unless we kill them. Although we’re made free—a new creation—in Christ, we will be sinning until we’re glorified, so we’ve got to be diligent in uprooting what once controlled us. But we don’t (cannot) do this in our own power. We must yield to the Holy Spirit living in us to be the sin slayer. 

This growing freedom from sin comes only with our surrender—which requires our death to self, as we’re crucified with Christ (Romans 6:6-7). And every day is a day of death for us who follow Jesus (Luke 14:27)…because only then can the Holy Spirit serve as our personal spiritual pesticide, killing in us what’s intended to kill us.

Lord, today may I die to self a little more, so that Christ in me can free me from any sin that still enslaves me.

Where there is no vision, the people are out of control, But how blessed is he who keeps the law. 

~Proverbs 29:18

Almost three years ago, I experienced a torn retina in my right eye. It was terrifying, but the Lord moved in a big way during that time—miraculously, really—to change my spiritual life. Sadly, the eye surgeries that followed also permanently changed my vision. See, in addition to the torn retina repair, I had to get a vitrectomy, which drains the vitreous fluid to rid it of debris to clear my vision. I share all that to say that since the vitrectomy procedure, my right eye has steadily becoming more nearsighted…while my left eye has remained farsighted. (In other words, prior to the tear, I could see far away just fine but needed reading glasses like most people in my age group.) Now, however, my left eye sees clearly at a distance, yet I cannot read with it, and my right eye sees clearly to read, but everything beyond six feet is a blur.

There’s a name for this phenomenon: monovision. One can actually function this way because the brain adjusts accordingly as you focus close in or far away. It’s super weird. And although my brain does adjust to my wonky eyes, I often feel a bit like that emoji with the spinning eyeballs. Actually, many people correct their eyes (via contact lenses or laser surgery) to create monovision, so they won’t have to wear bifocals or switch from readers to “seers” to look near then far. 

This thought of monovision struck me in terms of the way we believers are called to live our lives. We must keep a focus on heaven—we are citizens of that Great Monarchy after all and subject to the King of kings. Everything we do, we’re to do as unto the Lord. Our perspective is meant to be from our position as the victorious and redeemed in Christ. This is like the eye that can clearly see far away to what is yet ahead. And at the same time, we’re to live in this world—to shine our light into the darkness, living like Christ and becoming more like Him daily as we journey back Home. This requirement for righteous activity (in response to our righteousness in Christ, not to earn it) equates to seeing close-up—what’s right in front of us.

Beloved, in walking through this fallen, broken world as saved (yet still broken) people, we must keep an eye heavenward in the knowledge of God’s Sovereignty and our ultimate destination. This vision gives us a peace and contentment no matter our circumstances. Yet we are also called to see the broken people around us, focusing on pointing others to Christ and doing our part in the Lord’s redemptive plan. We’re to “one another” one another, in love, grace, mercy, and service.

So, what about you? Is your focus only on what the world cares about, trying to satisfy yourself in what your flesh and pride desire (solely nearsighted)? Or are you, as it’s been said, “so heavenly focused that your no earthly good” (that is, too farsighted)? Let’s be encouraged to a monovisioned life! Just as our brain adjusts to see clearly at different distances, so the Holy Spirit will give us the clarity to be in this world and not of it…keeping a dual perspective as one rescued and on the rescue team. 

Lord, may I never lose my vision for either my heavenly identity in Christ OR my earthly purpose to glorify You. But let me live with a view for both.

All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.For the more we suffer for Christ, the more God will shower us with his comfort through Christ. Even when we are weighed down with troubles, it is for your comfort and salvation! For when we ourselves are comforted, we will certainly comfort you. Then you can patiently endure the same things we suffer. We are confident that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in the comfort God gives us.                 

~ 2 Corinthians 1:3-7 (NLT)

Life is hard. Beyond that, walking through this life is a constant battle because we’re up against this fallen world, our fleshly desires, and the enemy of our souls. Even as followers of Christ, we’re promised troubles in this world (John 16:33). People hurt us. Tragedy befalls us. Our own sin hinders our sanctification journey. Often, when we are weighed down, tossed about, or completely unraveled, we lift our “why” to the Lord (and others). We shout, “How long, Oh Lord?” We remind ourselves that God’s ways are higher than ours, His thoughts beyond our understanding (sometimes successfully hearing this self-talk, other times, not so much). But going through the fire still burns. And we never come out the other side completely unscathed. Scars remain—whether visible or not. Although the brokenness has healed, we may walk with a limp.

Even when a particular valley season is “done”, we may not get our heavenly reason. Can we eventually look back and see the Lord’s mighty hand of protection, direction, and mercy? I pray we do! Whether He walked beside us, carried us, or dragged us through it, Jesus never left us. Sometimes, we are given a revelation as to how desperate days glorified Him—it could be a few months later or decades. Perhaps we needed refining in a particular area. Or we can see that what the enemy intended for evil, the Lord intended for a much bigger and bolder Good. Maybe it led us out of the pigsty to a place of full surrender to the Lord. 

In God’s Word, through the Apostle Paul (2 Corinthians 1:3-7), we’re given another profound answer to the cries of “why” through our storms: to prepare us to comfort others with the Providential comfort we’ve been given. In typical Paul fashion, these verses can be a bit wordy—but he leaves no room for confusion here. God is our source of comfort, joy, and satisfaction, no matter our circumstances. No amount of drink, drug, money, self-help, or self-harm will fully comfort or satisfy—only Christ and the confidence we have in our salvation. And it is through this comfort received that we can extend comfort to others. We can boldly proclaim, “I endured through Christ, and so can you!”

I was powerfully reminded of this recently when a neighbor was courageous enough to share a darkness she is walking through. (Mind you, she doesn’t know me well, but she and her husband know we are Christ followers…and so they trusted us as a safe place to land. This, friend, is another devo altogether—but you can probably see where I’d go with this!) It “just so happens” that I’ve walked the road she suddenly found herself on, stepping on the same shards of broken glass and wondering if my bloodied feet (and life) could heal. Oh, friend, I was able to comfort and encourage her because of my pain, giving grace and counsel I would otherwise be unable to extend had I not been through it. I was able to reveal my scars, once open wounds, now healed and strengthened. And I was able to assure her that those shards of brokenness can be restored into something beautiful. 

When troubles come, beloved, lean into the comfort only God can provide. It’s quite alright to ask Him your “whys” (just look through Psalms—it’s a thing!). But please know that your trust in God, endurance, and comfort through your suffering holds a promised purpose when you’ve come through the other side: to help bring others through. Just be sure to look for those opportunities to comfort another…be brave and let Him use your story for His glory. 

Lord, thank You for the victories I have through You. Let me use my scars—and Yours—to comfort others, shining Your light of hope, grace, mercy, and love.

The words of a whisperer are like delicious morsels; they go down into the inner parts of the body.  

~Proverbs 18:8

Reading the book of Proverbs sometimes feels like you’re in the boxing ring being pummeled with truth punches—left hook of warning, right uppercut of counsel, left cross caution. Oh, those stings of conviction. From verse to verse, the order can seem somewhat random—but every line has pointed purpose for us to grow in wisdom and fear of the Lord.

So, as I was cozied up in the middle of this wisdom book, a matter was repeated in a few chapters that got me thinking a bit more about the power of our tongue (a topic the Lord has seemingly been spotlighting for me lately). This time, it’s about gossip. Now, men don’t generally have an issue with this particular sin—and yes, it’s a sin. In fact, it’s among those “seven things the Lord hates” (Proverbs 6:16-19)! The Old and New Testaments are filled with warnings against gossip—whether it’s “true” or slanderous.

Why do we (especially women) love the taste of sharing some shared-with-us information, secret, or rumor? Is it tasty to be in the know and wanting others to know you’re in the know? Are we, in some deep-need way, trying to prove our value to another person? Or, in our sinful judgment of another person, do we whisper to a friend in the vein of “aren’t you glad we’re not like that person?”—smacking of the Pharisees’ prayer in Luke 18. The fact is, there are many reasons why we lean in to share a tasty morsel…or hear one.

But here in Proverbs 16, 17, and 26, there’s another aspect of gossiping that needs to be underscored: the results. 

• A dishonest man spreads strife, and a whisperer separates close friends (Proverbs 16:28).

• One who conceals an offense seeks love, but one who repeats a matter separates close friends (Proverbs 17:9).

• For lack of wood the fire goes out, and where there is no whisperer, quarreling ceases. As charcoal to hot embers and wood to fire, so is a quarrelsome man for kindling strife. The words of a whisperer are like delicious morsels; they go down into the inner parts of the body (Proverbs 26:20-22).

Sweet friend, gossip never encourages. It may feel sweet in the moment of sharing or hearing, but its purpose is only either futile or harmful. I’ve seen relationships broken, wedges put between brothers and sisters in Christ, and, yes, even close friends separated. Spreading “did you hear” speculations only adds charcoal fluid to hot coals, fueling quarreling and strife. The Biblical (and experiential) warnings are so true. So, what’s a girl (or guy) to do with those tasty morsels? Well, the Bible’s pretty clear on this as well.

Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear (Ephesians 4:29).

Be an encourager, building others up and extending grace. In this, we shine light into the lives of family, friends, and neighbors, reflecting the love of Christ and pointing to Him. Dive into what Scripture has to say about using our words to build others up—I promise you, the taste is much sweeter for all.

Lord, put a guard on my mouth for speaking words that are hurtful, hateful, and simply unnecessary. May I always speak the truth in love, seasoned with grace—reflecting You, pointing to You, and glorifying You.

Then the king said to me, “What would you request?” So I prayed to the God of heaven. Then I said…  

~Nehemiah 2:4-5a

Not sure about any of you all, but I’m a talk-thinker—I guess the official term is “verbal processor.” Often, when a question is asked of me (whether at work or with friends or family), I just open my mouth and the words start flowing. Sometimes, by the time I get to the end of said wordflow, the conclusion does not resemble the beginning all that much. In fact, with my clients, I frequently find myself saying, “Now, bear with me, I’m processing as I’m speaking…”

Most of the time, everything turns out just fine in this verbal-thinking mode of mine. But not always. Sometimes (way too often), when I open my mouth without first head-thinking, I hear words of judgment or complaining or defensive rebuttal roll off my treacherous tongue (Proverbs 21:23; James 3:1-18; . (And, sadly, this is usually with my husband.) Or, when I’m attempting to give godly, Bible-aligned wisdom to a sister in Christ, I lead with what I think or feel. This advice is usually based on seasons the Lord has led me through or from the years I’ve spent in His Word. But—and it’s a great big but—how often do I stop first to “pray to the God of heaven” (Nehemiah 2:4) for wisdom? Ouch.

So, what a great reminder it was in diving into the first few chapters of Nehemiah. Eight little words (in the NASB), innocently stuck within the amazing story of this brave cupbearer to the king. Like Ezra, Daniel, and Esther, Nehemiah had been elevated to a place of honor even in Jewish bondage. As cupbearer, Nehemiah had daily audience with the king. Now, he knew the promises of God—and the unfaithfulness of God’s people, which led to their mass exodus out of Jerusalem. The book of Nehemiah is an awesome testament to God’s Providence, so I recommend you delve in yourself. But the context here is that in Nehemiah’s sadness about his people and Promised Land, the king noticed and actually cared enough to ask Nehemiah what burdened him. After Nehemiah shared the reason for his sorrow, the king asked, “What would you request?” 

Wow. This is a big deal. But instead of Nehemiah rambling on about the woes of the Jews or rehashing past wrongs to eventually get to a request, we read those eight words: “So I prayed to the God of heaven.” Even the presumptive “so” is astounding! It’s like he’s saying, “Well, duh, the obvious first thing to do is pray to God before I think or say or do anything.” [Spoiler alert: What came out of Nehemiah’s mouth was a succinct request (cushioned with a compliment), as well as a definitive plan of action.]

What a great lesson for us all—simple, yet not easy. These eight little words must become our “so” habit. And habits take effort. And repetition. So, will you join me in pausing to pray before speaking? Before we share, advise, judge, ask, or even “observe aloud”, let’s ask the Sovereign One for guidance. In fact, we have the third Person of the Trinity living in us for such wisdom—the Holy Spirit is our Counselor just waiting to be tapped in before our tongue takes over.

Lord, may we search Your Word for the countless truths of how to use (and not use) our words. And may we daily (moment-by-moment) pray to You before speaking.

The Lord’s bondservant must not be quarrelsome, but be kind to all, skillful in teaching, patient when wronged, with gentleness correcting those who are in opposition, if perhaps God may grant them repentance leading to the knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, having been held captive by him to do his will.

~2 Timothy 2:24-26

Friend, if you are a follower of Jesus Christ, I want to ask you a simple question: Do you always remember from where you came? Whether you gave your life to Christ at VBS when you were age 7 or the Lord called your name to salvation at 70, the fact is that you used to be an enemy of God in need of reconciliation with Him. It’s so easy, especially the longer we walk with the Lord down the path of sanctification, to forget. 

If you’re like me and surrendered to Jesus later in life, your previous lostness may be more top of mind, so to speak—especially if you share your testimony as a witness of the transforming power of Christ. But even then, the longer we’re “church people”, the more likely we are to experience a bit of “sanctification pride”…in other words, a kind of forgetfulness of our own journey, with an attitude of, “Oh, I can’t believe he/she is ‘still’ doing this/that—I’m glad I’m not like that!” Really? First of all—yeah, we were once like that. Second of all, we still are. It may not be the exact same snare as our brother or sister, but we still fight against sin daily. (And if you don’t think so, well, a study on the sin of pride might be something to consider.) 

And when it comes to looking upon unbelievers, we must absolutely reach back and recall our life as—not just in–darkness (Ephesians 5:8). Regardless of whether you never left the Father’s porch or you ended up in the pigsty (like me), you and I were once lost. Blind. Enslaved. An enemy (Ephesians 2:1-3). This is what Paul is exhorting Timothy about in 2 Timothy 2:24-26. Christians must battle that internal dialogue of judgement against the lost…in fact, it actually sounds an awful lot like Christ’s condemnation of the Pharisee’s prayer, “God, thank you that I am not like that guy…” (Luke 18:9-14). 

So, how do we follow Paul’s advice? There are three words in those verses in 2 Timothy that seem to pop out: “all” and “if perhaps”. All means all, and that’s all all means—as a former pastor of mine used to say. Every person you encounter is either alive in Christ or dead. We may not know who’s who, but we can know that all need Jesus. So we need to act that way. And if they are dead (blind, lost, enslaved to sin), there is the promise of “IF PERHAPS”—the potential that the Lord will call them to Himself—and He may use YOU or ME to do it! Because of our gentle words of truth and actions of love, the Lord may open their eyes to the knowledge of Him. They may come to their senses (like that pigsty moment) and escape from the snare of the devil, having been held captive by him to do his will (v 26).

Beloved, as we walk through this world, remember that we have been rescued by the grace of God through faith in Christ Jesus! Now it is our calling, our responsibility, to show others the way of escape…that they don’t have to be held captive by the lust of the flesh, this fallen world, or the hissing lies of the accuser (Satan). Every day, we must first remind ourselves that through Christ’s victorious death and resurrection, we’re no longer captives to the enemy as we once were (Galatians 5:1; 2 Corinthians 3:17; John 8:36)…then, let’s go make a way of escape for others.

Lord, thank You for the freedom won on my behalf in Christ. As one rescued, may I open my eyes to the walking dead around me who desperately need a way of escape—and use me to show them the way.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging…He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”

~ Psalm 46:1-3; 10

Last week, my husband and I drove from Florida to Virginia to visit our son and daughter-in-love. They’d just moved into their newly purchased home, and we were super excited to see them. Filled with joy and pride in that first-time-homeowner glow, they showed us around each room, the beautiful tree-filled yard, and the amazing deck and above-ground pool. We all celebrated the immense blessings from the Lord (especially given their path here, which is another story full of the Lord’s Providence and provision).

We spent Sunday afternoon in the pool, as it was once again a brutally hot day. Then, the sky abruptly darkened and thunder rolled, and the temperature dropped about 20 degrees. The sudden wind, though, was not normal—it seemed to gust from multiple directions simultaneously. Worried about the pool floaties flying away, I went out onto the deck to pull them inside. My husband and son ran out and told me to get inside, as they collected the table umbrella and other things. I was just inside the door, and looking up into the tumultuous sky, I pleaded with God: “Lord, please protect their home!”

As soon as the words of that desperate prayer left my lips, my son heard a loud crack and shouted, “Tree! Get in!” And as they ran through the door, a 150-foot oak tree from the neighbor’s yard landed on the house, its massive branches hitting were they stood just seconds before. The moments and hours afterward were terrifying. This “microburst” was basically a mini-tornadic event that I don’t understand (other than our fallen earth is churning with weather-related birth pangs—Matthew 24:1-8). BUT GOD.

Even while the rain continued to pour, we checked the sunroom and attic where the tree primarily hit. Nothing seemed to be leaking, nor were any windows broken—despite the fact that the broken edges of huge branches sat literally against every window it touched. The shed and pool pump were crushed, but somehow the tree had not penetrated the living areas. In fact, another huge tree—a pine from the same neighbor’s yard—had broken, and its massive branch along with a tangle of Jenga-like pieces were literally refraining the oak’s trunk from crashing down through two levels of roof. As the tree fell, it seemed the Lord’s very hand manipulated its decent and twisted each branch to land but not crush.

(While I was freaking out in a good way at God’s protection for how it all happened, my son—rightly so—was freaking out in fear and anger that it happened. And he did not appreciate my praises in those first moments after the storm subsided. So, the Lord, in His loving mercy even send an “angel among us” in the form of a county worker who came to assess the immediate damage. He shared with my son and husband his utter bewilderment of how that tree fell. How branches were missing that should have gone through the windows and roof. “I don’t get it,” he kept saying. “It makes no sense—it’s truly a miracle.” Indeed.) 

Over the next 24 hours, the miracles kept coming to light—revealing the many ways the Lord showed up. For example, despite trees downed all over the area, the second tree company my daughter-in-love called Monday morning “happened” to just be finishing up another job and could arrive in 30 minutes. For hours, they waited on a crane to be available…until the tree guy “happened” to find a random crane in the area whose driver could do our job before the one he was called out to do. Once the tree was removed (which was a truly fascinating process to watch), we could see the full damage: yes, the pool pump/plumbing was a loss, as were the shed and outbuildings; but otherwise, some gutters needed replacing, a handful of shingles were broken, a few feet of siding was scratched, and one window screen was ripped. (I’m shaking my head in awe even as I type this.) To top it off, my son’s employer “happened” to contact him the next day to inform him of a schedule audit from the previous month…he was to expect additional pay…which “happened” to cover his (rather large) home insurance deductible. (Now God was just showing off.)

It’s so, so hard to be in the midst of a figurative—or literal—storm, watching the destruction in real time and actively seeking the Providence of God amid the fear, anger, and anxiety of it all. But, sweet friend, we must. We must trust the Lord, standing steadfast in His goodness and kindness. Through our tears, we must see His mighty hand moving on our behalf. In the protection and blessings…and in the destruction. Even in the “even ifs” of our lives, God is moving for our good (Romans 8:28). And everything the Lord does or allows (even the evil of distorted creation) purposefully reveals His righteousness (Romans 3:5), love (Isaiah 9:2), and glory (Romans 9:22-23). 

So, beloved, whatever your storm, look around with new eyes. Where is God moving? What blessings do you find? How can this draw you closer to Him, deepening your faith and making you trust Him more? 

Oh, Good and merciful Father! Thank You for Your presence and providence in every storm. May I look for Your hand in the protection—and destruction.

I will exalt You, my God, the King, And I will bless Your name forever and ever. Every day I will bless You, And I will praise Your name forever and ever. Great is the Lord, and highly to be praised; And His greatness is unsearchable. One generation will praise Your works to another, And will declare Your mighty acts. On the glorious splendor of Your majesty And on Your wonderful works, I will meditate. People will speak of the power of Your awesome acts, And I will tell of Your greatness.

~Psalm 145:1-6

In my church, we have this thing we do whenever we gather in small groups, whether huddling before Sunday serving, at the start of disciple group gathering, or even when two or three are gathered for almost any reason. A simple request is made of one another: Let’s hear some wins. For context, a “win” is wherever you have seen the Lord work in your life. This could entail an invitation to church given to a shoe salesperson—and accepted. It could be the experience of unreasonable peace through a very challenging workday. Or it may be a step of obedience taken in following after Jesus.

It appears obvious that in thinking back over the past days or week, we’d all have 400 ways in which the Lord showed Himself awesome to us…so sharing a win seems like a no-brainer, doesn’t it? Yet, I’ve noticed that when the question is asked in these gatherings of the saints, crickets fill the air instead of glorious praises. All too often, I even rack my own brain in search of something to share. Where, I ask myself, did I see God show up? 

Beloved, for every follower of Jesus, this should not be something to grasp for! Every breath is an awesome gift of God. The mounting glow of the morning sky at sunrise, the belly laughter of a child, the food satisfying our belly, the sincere eye-to-eye welcoming of another that says, “I see you and love you.” The joy of reading the very Words of God, praying with friends, sharing burdens with a brother or sister to shed light on a darkness of the soul. All these reflect the Lord’s hand in our life, glorifying His greatness. The key, sweet friend, is to be intentional—look for, acknowledge, be awed.

King David was particularly good at sharing wins—recognizing and declaring the awesomeness of God. So, his Psalms are a fantastic place to go when we’re struggling to see the Lord’s mighty hand in our life. (I realize this seems like an odd thing to say to believers…but, let’s be honest, some days we get up and go, go, go just to fall into bed at night with perhaps some faint prayer of thanks or a last-minute supplication for a family member or friend.) Psalm 145, for example, is a wonderful go-to for inspiring the exaltation of the Lord. As the great John MacArthur (who now glories in the very presence of Jesus) said of this poem of praise: “Here, the king of Israel extols and celebrates the King of Eternity for who His is, what He has done, and what He has promised.” There is a beautiful flow that starts and ends with a commitment to praise God. And in between, the Psalm moves from God’s awesome greatness to His great grace to His unfailing faithfulness to His unblemished righteousness.

So, let’s encourage one another, as long as it is called today, to intentionally look for God’s greatness, grace, faithfulness, and righteousness. In the big things and small details. Because it all is miraculous, and it’s meant to glorify the Lord—they’re all wins. Then, do tell.

Lord, may I never cease to be in awe of You—Your steadfast faithfulness, the gift of salvation through Jesus, my ability to know you through Your Word. May I daily look for—and tell of—every win.

Finally then, brothers and sisters, we request and urge you in the Lord Jesus, that as you received instruction from us as to how you ought to walk and please God (just as you actually do walk), that you excel even more. For this is the will of God, your sanctification.

~1 Thessalonians 4:1; 3a

If you are a follower of Jesus Christ, there was a time—whether a lightning-bolt instance or a gradual unveiling—when you proclaimed Jesus as your Lord and Savior. Once surrendered, you were justified. God sees you as holy and perfect because your life is hidden in Christ (Colossians 3:3). And, by definition of being a follower, you began following after Him with a desire to become more and more like Him. I mean, we were dead in our sins! But God, in His great love, kindness, and mercy, made us alive together with Christ (Ephesians 2:1-10)!

It’s in response to this rescue out of darkness into marvelous light (1 Peter 2:9), that we pursue obedience and holiness. Hear me on this: We don’t “do” to earn a right relationship with God. We think, say, and do righteously because we’re already in right relationship with Him. We do this until we’re face to face with our Lord…this is called “sanctification”, which literally means being set apart from sin to holiness. And it is the will of God (1 Thessalonians 4:1).

And friend, whether you were saved by grace through faith yesterday or five decades ago, this process of setting ourselves apart is hard. Shoot, even the Apostle Paul—GOAT Christian—struggled with this! He didn’t do the things he wanted to and did the very thing he hated (Romans 7:15). But I love Paul’s exhortation to the Thessalonians in this: Wherever we are on this journey, we’re to “excel even more” (1 Thessalonians 4:1; 3a). Beloved, by the Holy Spirit, we’re being transformed into the image of Christ (2 Corinthians 3:18). He started this work in us, and He will complete it (Philippians 1:6)! 

Thankfully, there’s no guessing needing! God’s Word is chock full of direction, encouragement, and warnings for us as we walk this walk. Here are just a few (on the positive side), but I urge you to search the Scriptures for yourself in this. (Hint: Because Jesus is in written into each book of the Bible, you’ll find instructions wherever you look.)

• Walk in the Spirit, not in the flesh (Galatians 5:16-25).
• Love your brothers and sisters in Christ (1 John 4:19-20).
• Do everything without complaining (Philippians 2:14-16).
• Surround yourself with other believers (Psalm 1; Proverbs 13:20).
• In everything you do, glorify God (1 Corinthians 6:20; 1 Corinthians 10:31; Colossians 3:17).

Finally, pray!! My sweet friend, Jerri, boiled this sanctification journey down to a simple daily plea: “Lord, change me.” So, let’s join together in this! Study the Word and let it transform you. Abide in Christ. And pray fervently that the Holy Spirit living in you will empower you to become more and more like Jesus. (Or, as John the Baptist so eloquently put it: “He must increase, I must decrease” (John 3:30). Wherever you are, take your next step to follow Jesus…and excel even more.

Lord, I want to be more and more like You. Change me. 

So we can confidently say, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?”

~Hebrews 13:6

I’ve written a couple times about lessons from my rescue dog (see here and here). Caroline still follows me around the house—for the most part. But if she isn’t under my feet at my work desk, or lying by the couch when I’m there, she’s in our room snuggled under our bed. (We call it “Caroline’s Clubhouse”.)

In addition to her thankfulness and joy in the rescue (lesson 1) and her desire to be close to her rescuer (lesson 2), there’s another spiritual-life reflection that struck me recently. See, when a storm is brewing and thunder rolls, my little dog starts shaking like a leaf. Nothing can calm her. Then as the rain dumps and the thunder and lightning are in full swing, she is an inconsolable mess. I may be humanizing her too much here, but my rationale is that her life on the street so traumatized her that when storms came, she had nowhere and no one to run. She had to rely on herself to find a place to hide and wait out the storm in fear. 

I try to console her, hold her, even crawl under the bed to calm her…but she just doesn’t understand that she is safe with us, protected from what is scaring her. Her life is not what it used to be. She has been rescued and is no longer fending for herself in a dangerous world. She has a safe haven with us. Not that she won’t ever get hurt, of course. Accidents happen, like getting injured by her larger dog-sister while playing. Or Caroline still makes self-harming choices, like diving out an open window through the screen to go bark at the neighbor’s dog. Old “ghetto” habits from her past life still pop up, but she’s getting better through the years. (For instance, on our walks she no longer jumps up on neighbor’s trashcans to knock them over in search of food.) 

But when it comes to her fear and trepidation when storms come, her fears are completely unwarranted. She has been rescued, no longer needing to seek out self-protection—just like she doesn’t have to worry about how and where to find her next meal. We are for her, we will protect her, and we want only her best—even when she doesn’t understand what’s going on. (Because, well, she’s a dog.)

Hopefully, spiritual lightbulbs are going off for you like they did for me. As believers in Christ Jesus, we have no need to fear! We have been rescued! The Lord is Sovereign and Good—our best is always and only His will. Storms will come in our life—Jesus promised it (John 16:33). But we never have to fear them. He also assured us that He’ll always be with us (Matthew 28:20), never leaving or forsaking us (Deuteronomy 31:6). The Lord is our Anchor (Hebrews 6:17-20) and our Strong Tower (Psalm 61:1-3), whether our storms are a result of this fallen world, other people, our soul’s enemy (Satan), our own sinfulness…or even previous ghetto—or pigsty—behavior.

Beloved, we do not have to live like we used to, believing we need to figure it all out on our own. Whether your go-to response to fear is taking tighter control, drowning or numbing it, or lashing out to hurt-before-being-hurt, you can give your fear to the Lord. He’s got you. And me. So, when we hear the proverbial thunder roll, let’s stand in faithful confidence that there is no fear in the perfect love of Christ in us (1 John 4:13-18). 

Lord, when I am afraid, I will trust in You, knowing You have not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and self-control. I can fear not, because You are always with me.