WE ALL FOLLOW

ALL FOLLOW

If you’re a parent, you have probably had a child try to follow you out of the house. One day, my son screamed, “But I want to go with you!” from the top of the stairs as I was headed out the front door. I could hear him crying as I got into my car. The discomfort of that moment tugs on a dad’s heart. If you are a parent, you already know what I’m talking about. You have lived it.

If you love someone, you want them to go with you. It’s that simple. We want to be with people we love. We almost always recognize this even if it seems impossible in some circumstances. So why is it so hard to nail this when following Jesus?

We all follow someone. I want to follow Jesus. I want to follow him in every aspect of my life. I’ve been trying to do that for a long time now. You’re reading this, so chances are pretty good you do, too. We want to follow Jesus. But we must acknowledge that the distance between our desire and behavior is often greater than we’d like. Why? Because stuff seems to get in the way. 

Think about that for a moment. You have this desire to follow Jesus with your life, but it conflicts with your everyday circumstances. In other words, some obstacles get in the way. Impediments that keep us from following Jesus well.

Following Jesus is the best way to live. Only following Jesus leads us somewhere good. Only following Jesus leads us to someone good. But everyone is following something or someone.

Many things that people follow are not good. Many people follow their stuff. They go in search of external satisfaction. This happens when we think something we can attain will satisfy us. They chase possessions, a bigger and better home, a faster car, and more toys. This leads to debt, the rat race, comparison, envy, and more. They chase pleasure, even though following pleasure can never satisfy them in the long run. Following stuff is about worshiping satisfaction.

Many other people are following feelings in search of internal justification. This happens when we think something we can do will make us better. So they chase status, notoriety, worth, and self-esteem. This often leads to becoming a workaholic, falling into depression, fixating on selfishness, or something equally destructive.

It’s a dogged pursuit of wanting to be “okay with ourselves,” “feel good about ourselves,” or whatever. Following feelings is about worshiping ourselves. These are dangerous ways to live!

It’s critical to consider. What are you following? Because we are all following something. 

The stakes here are huge because what you follow is what you worship. I don’t want to worship stuff. I don’t want to chase the bigger house or the nicer car. Not because those things are bad. There is nothing wrong with having nice stuff. I like my stuff. I’ll probably buy more stuff this week. But the stuff in our lives will control our lives if we allow it. 

I don’t want to worship feelings and accolades. I am going to keep working hard. I have three jobs right now. And I don’t care one bit about titles. I’d be okay if no one ever called me “Pastor Nate” again. No one has to call me “Professor King” at school. In fact, I ask them not to. Why? Because I’m not chasing accolades and feelings.

The danger of following our stuff and our feelings is that they make pretty terrible gods. Because ultimately, it means we are worshiping ourselves. What you follow is what you worship.

BLIND RELIGION

Jesus developed a bad reputation among the religious people of his day. But the everyday dudes like you and me liked him. Crowds gathered around Jesus. Tradesmen laid down their tools and followed him. Why? They learned firsthand what Jesus wants you and I to take to heart. Everyday with Jesus is better than any day without him.

The religious folks didn't like Jesus. In fact, they murdered him. He got a bad reputation because he “hung out with tax collectors and sinners”. He ignored the man-made religious rules and only honored God’s law. This especially ticked them off. Jesus made life with God simple. He penetrated the religious bureaucracy, calling its cosmic bluff with every offense. 

The religious guys followed their rules—not God. Well, guess who made the rules? They did. They worshiped themselves and played like they were worshiping God. When Jesus showed up, many of them started “following” him. They would cause trouble, ask questions, and ridicule his teaching in front of crowds.

So, one day, Jesus called them out in front of the crowd. Jesus spoke blatantly out of his authority as the Son of God, saying “These people give me lip service, but not their hearts. They are full of vanity, following human rules.”

What was Jesus saying? You can’t follow him with only words. Following Jesus has to be more than lip service. 

Being a follower of Jesus is about more than a prayer. People pray a token prayer and then act like there’s nothing else to it. That’s a really disastrous way to live. Jesus doesn’t want us to follow him by going through the motions. Jesus wants us to follow him with our life. I’m not talking about moralism. I’m not talking about pursuing a bunch of man-made ideas. I’m not talking about religious duty or rules. That’s the junk the people who hated Jesus focused on. You know, the ones who murdered him.

Jesus called those guys “blind guides.” He encouraged the crowds to leave behind their blind guides as they followed him. He told them, “If the blind lead the blind, both will fall into a pit.” What makes it extra spicy is that Jesus so often went out of his way to heal blind people. I’m probably wrong, but I’d like to think he turned and gave the religious guys a stare-down every time he healed another blind guy. 

If you’re following man-made stuff, you’re blind. You’re following the blind. You’re still living in the dark. You can’t follow Jesus and live in the dark. He’s the light of the world.

One night as a kid, I was running through a friend’s yard. We were playing tag in the dead of night. There was no moonlight that night. It was pitch black, and we didn’t have any lights. It was dangerous. In other words, it was the perfect little hillbilly game. I was sprinting and stepped off a sidewalk into blackness, right into a ditch four feet deep. I literally never saw it coming. I was so lucky I didn’t get hurt.

Plenty of people are blindly following the blind. They follow the outrage culture because it makes them feel good. They follow some politician because he says just the right things. They follow a singer or actor because they like their style. They follow some writer because he is so witty or intelligent. They may follow a buddy who has a few answers or some mom who makes cool videos on social media; but none of those are Jesus. It's the blind leading the blind.

I was a college pastor for over fifteen years. Each year, we had an event called Battle of the Sexes. We would divide into teams of guys versus girls and play a bunch of games. 

Looking back, I realized one of the games was so dangerous. We would blindfold the whole team, and one person would lay on a stretcher. Then, the blindfolded folks would carry the person on the stretcher. The one on the stretcher had to talk their team through an obstacle course as they raced the other team to the finish line. It was a blast, but it only worked because someone could see.

If we aren’t following Jesus, who are we following? We are following the blind. We are chasing the dark.

COME WITH ME

We need Jesus today. We need him everyday. We need him to rescue us from our own destructive behavior. We need him to help us reject our shame, shortcomings, and condemnation. We need him to help us focus our lives on something good and noble. We need him to help us love those around us. We need him to carry us forward in purpose. 

One of the best examples is Jesus’ interaction with a guy named Levi. Jesus saw Levi working one day and said, “Come along with me.” Levi had let work get in the way. He was collecting taxes. 

Sometimes, we are influenced from the outside in ways we don’t even realize. One day, we may look up and realize we’ve taken too many steps down a different path. How does this happen? It happens because of our everyday choices and decisions. 

Even good things can lead to a life that goes off the tracks. Obligations can become obstacles when we aren’t diligent. Diligent about what? About what God wants for you.

It’s not like it’s a big secret. Jesus wants you to follow him. He invites you to follow him. He compels each of us to follow him. 

Jesus takes our shame, so we will follow him shamelessly! His selfless sacrifice is the invitation into the remarkable—a life spent following the Son of God. Jesus lived and died to make a clear path for us to follow. He calls everyone to follow him. And we have to choose how to answer that call.

We see this in the story of Jesus calling Levi. Tax collectors were hated by their fellow Jews. They were seen as traitors. They were corrupt. They extorted their countrymen. Yet Jesus looked at Levi and said, “Come with me.” 

If you feel like you’ve gone too far or messed up too much, it’s never too late to follow Jesus. Why? Because He wants you to go with him. If you’ve committed your life to Christ, you want to go with him. 

Which is why it’s crazy and confusing when we realize we aren’t doing it very well. Mistakes are inevitable. Distractions are abundant. Perfection lies far outside our reach. But that’s okay. Not because we’re actively looking to self-destruct. It’s okay, because he never expected us to ace it all of the time. He loves it when I ask for his help.

Jesus wants us to follow him. Jesus wants us to hear his heartfelt words declaring, “Come with me”. Upon hearing these words, he hopes we will begin to take our first baby steps in an eternity of following Him.

When I’m playing in the yard with my kids, there’s a significant difference between how my eight-year-old son can follow me and my eighteen-month-old daughter. Ethan can run, play, ride bikes, and be adventurous. Anna tries to run, too. And she falls a lot. There are big differences in the way my kids follow me. One of the main differences is the size of the things that impede them. Ethan might shrug at the waist-high grass if we’re at the family farm. While to Anna, it would seem like an insurmountable green wall.

As we grow in Christ, the impediments change. The hurdles change. A person following Jesus closely for thirty years may not have the same struggles as someone who was just introduced to him. Following Jesus everyday leads to change, but not perfection. There will always be something trying to trip you up. There will always seem to be something else in the way. There’s always the next choice, the next fork in the road, the next potential disaster, or the next hurdle. 

Parents try hard to keep their kids from experiencing this, but God doesn’t seem to do it that way. Why? It’s because He knows what we get to learn. Hurdles aren’t disasters. They are part of the race. We’re supposed to embrace what we learn from the impediments. Take them in stride. 

Jesus didn’t consider the cross and the discomforts of the road as disqualifying experiences. They were hard, sure. But they made it worth it. What He offers each of us is the opportunity to walk in His love and grace. Not free of fault, but in spite of it. 

What happens as we follow Jesus? He takes us on the adventure of a lifetime. One that changes everything when we’re willing to go where he went and do what he did. 

WHAT NOW?

Followers of Jesus walked where he walked. When we follow Jesus closely, we walk where He walked. Our life takes us into contact with people needing God’s love. We have a better sense for where our next step should land. 

We used to ask, “What would Jesus do?” Everybody wore bracelets declaring “WWJD” when I was in high school. It is the question when it comes to following Jesus.

Decide to follow Jesus closely. There’s a good chance you’ll get tripped up along the way. When you do, you’ll bump into Him all over again. Walk where He walked. 

Followers of Jesus love whom Jesus loved. When we walk where Jesus walked, we find the opportunity to love those Jesus loved. Those who are rejected, broken, and in need. Not know-it-alls, but the down-and-outs. We all love a comeback story because we are a comeback story. Following him is our opportunity to add to the story. 

Follow Jesus closely. Walk where He walked. Love who He loved. Give what He gave.

Followers of Jesus give what Jesus gave. Faced with the ones Jesus loves, I am presented with an opportunity to give what He gave—myself. All of us have to choose this. It might mean we give our time, our resources, our attention, or any number of things. Mostly, it means we give what we can. 

This is the kind of life Jesus has invited us into: one that follows closely. Loving who He loved. Giving what He gave. When I’m getting it right, I have a better sense of where my next step should land. If I have let distance creep in, it might be harder to understand how He wants me to take the next corner.

When you walk where He walked, you’ll always find yourself moving in the right direction. Your life goes in new directions. When you love who He loved, you’ll always find yourself surrounded by people who need Jesus. Your life has a new mission. When you give what He gave, you’ll never stop living from the abundance of God’s big plan for life. What could be better than that?

WITH US

EVERYDAY

Roger looked across the table at me with a contemplative look, almost as if he was trying to remember if he'd left his oven on at home. I could tell my promise was still bouncing around in his mind, but I was hoping it would take root in his heart.

“Roger, I’ve met so many young men and women like you over the years.” I began. “People God loves who don’t know what to do about it. They think all this ‘Jesus stuff’ is really good on Sunday; but don’t let it affect the rest of their week.” We all need to learn and remember what Roger needed to grasp.

Jesus is an Everyday Jesus. He loves you. He has a plan for your life. And it is not limited to one day of the week when you wear nice clothes, go sing some Christian version of karaoke, and listen to a big personality give a faith-based Ted Talk.

God’s plan for your life is so much bigger than planned worship services in air-conditioned buildings. It’s more important than our organizations, agendas, and issues. Jesus is about the business of extending invitations. He offers an invitation to a life that is rich in love, purpose, forgiveness, and so much more.

The invitation Jesus extended to us was not a one-time thing. It’s an everyday opportunity. And we need it.

Jesus isn’t some cosmic party pooper. He's not the guy who'll take away your ice cream because there’s too much sugar. Jesus isn’t trying to squeeze all the fun out of our lives. He isn’t trying to turn us into prudish zombies. He offers a way to live that is fulfilling in purpose, unique in application, and full of freedom across the board.

Jesus wants you in his kingdom. To do that, he wants into your life. He wants to be with you, not just on the highlight reel days but also on those “I spilled coffee on my shirt” days. Because, let's face it, those happen a lot more than we'd like to admit.

WITH US

In the Bible story, an angel appeared to Mary—probably giving her the biggest shock of her life—to let her know she’d won the cosmic genetic lottery. She was going to be a mom. The mother of the Son of God. 

The angel gave a directive. He said that the baby would be called “Emmanuel,” but this isn’t a book about Everyday Emmanuel. Or is it? The directive the angel was offering wasn’t about names. It was about more than that. Emmanuel means “God with us”.

God had taken the form of a baby to come to those he loved so much. Jesus is Emmanuel. Jesus is God with us.

He wants to be with us. Everyday. He wants to be with you. Everyday. Jesus wants to be with you in the grocery store, but probably not because he wants to point out that those cookies you’re eyeballing aren’t on your diet. He wants to be there helping you in the boardroom. He’s probably chuckling when you think your muted Zoom call hides your pajama bottoms. He hopes you’ll take him with you on the subway or the next time you catch an Uber. Jesus wants to be with you at home, work, and play. He wants to be with you. Why? Because Jesus is an Everyday Jesus.

How? Well, that’s what this book is really about. But why would Jesus want such a prominent role in our lives? Why would Jesus want to hang out with us so much? Is it because he likes our style? I don’t think so. Perhaps he’s a big fan of human hobbies? No. That’s not it. It's because of how much we mean to Him. Why should Jesus be so important to us? Because of how important we are to Him. He loves you so much. He values you. He treasures you.

ONE

Every person who has experienced the incredible grace of God flood their life knows what it’s like to be valued. A first-century historian named Luke wrote down many of the stories Jesus told. Several of them highlight the importance placed on you when you were far from God. They serve as an incredible reminder of why he went through all that he did. Because you were valued. You are valued.

Luke also captured the idea that angels celebrate the moment someone decides to live everyday with Jesus. It is a celebration like none other. And if you have become a follower of Christ, there are still echoes of rejoicing reverberating through the halls of eternity.

One of my favorite things to learn about someone who shares my faith is how they came to it. The stories are as different and varied as the people I meet and ask. I’ve met people who were compelled to find God after they reached their life’s biggest dream, and it came up empty. I’ve known others who watched all they had ever loved go down the drain because of their reckless choices—and at rock bottom, they looked up to see Jesus had been searching for just such an opportunity to show them his love.

Jesus is always looking for the next one who will accept His love. Jesus is always waiting and ready for someone willing to turn their life around. Only when we step into the loving relationship God wants for us do we begin to live out the potential always there waiting. 

It’s not instant. It’s a start. The party the angels throw is about all of the good things that will come from what is taking place when a lost son or daughter comes home to our Good Father.

TOUCHDOWN

I grew up in church and was no stranger to Jesus as a kid. But one week before my twelfth birthday, I accepted Jesus’s invitation to be part of my life everyday. It happened at the end of a gathering my community had thrown on our local high school football field.

Now, I’ve never played a single down of football in my life. I was younger and smaller than everyone growing up. But Jesus said Heaven has a party when someone decides to spend everyday with Jesus. On a Tuesday night in a small town endzone, I knelt and prayed. Heaven rejoiced! It’s the closest thing I’ve ever come to a touchdown.

Everyone who has experienced the love of Christ in their life has a moment in their story just like mine. A moment when Heaven gasped in excitement and celebrated in full. But not everyday feels like a party, even with Jesus.

In the more than thirty years since that day, I’ve lived through all of the worst days of my life. Heartache, pain, loss, sin, destructive habits, reckless choices, and a litany of bad things that chose me. None of them felt like a party.

If you’ve lived through hard things, you probably know the feeling. It’s the tension between swinging for the home run and striking out, like running out of gas when you’re on your way to the most important appointment of the day.

On days like those, it’s easy for me to be my biggest critic. But I need to remember my value. It’s vital to remember who values me.

You are loved. You are wanted. You are cherished. You were grafted into Heaven’s family by Jesus himself. Who you are is summed up by whose you are—and you’re more than enough. 

On those days when it doesn’t seem so, or when something says otherwise, the voice that’s telling you you’re loved, you’re forgiven, you’re a Child of God can be hard to hear. Still your heart and your soul. Turn off the cell phone. Go for a short drive. Maybe just take a walk.

When everything gets quiet, remember this phrase: “I am celebrated. I am loved. I am His.” Why? Because your life, your soul, and your purpose carry value before God. Jesus wants you to spend everyday with him.

Work, Faith, and Watermelons

Every Wednesday, every summer, I would help my dad sell watermelons at a local market in the early morning sun. We’d sling the big green fruit until the sun reached its apex and then head into the café for a burger and a Dr. Pepper. Each afternoon we’d park on an old bleacher at a cattle auction behind the café and watch dozens and dozens of livestock being sold.

The auctioneer would rattle off numbers in a kind of turbo-speak auctioneer lingo. It sounds like absolute gibberish to anyone uninformed but is more like music to those who get it. I learned to love it. One afternoon I learned to love it even more.

In walked this pitiful looking skinny little black and white calf. He was clearly incredibly sick. His hind quarters looked like they were covered in his own poop. This little guy was knocking on death’s door.

The auctioneer looked down at the calf, tilted his wore-out old cowboy hat back on his head, and leaned over to the guy next to him to whisper behind his hand. When he sat back up and spoke into the microphone the speakers kind of squawked as he told the two hundred people gathered, “Startin’ the bidding at fifteen dollars.”

We all just kind of sat there for a second. Even in my eleven-year-old mind I could remember thinking, “Who would want a sick almost-dead calf? Even for $15.” Just as I thought they were going to send the sick little calf back to his pen (and an almost certain death) my dad did something I had never seen him do before at the auction. He raised his hand.

The auctioneer looked around. He looked some more. He did some more of the secret auctioneer jabbering and finished with five words which changed our lives, “Sold to the Watermelon King.” My dad had just bought our first cow.

Over the years we would buy a lot more cows. Hundreds of cows. Thousands of cows. We would sell some. We would eat some. We would lose some to death, disease, and predators; but not that first little black and white calf.

My dad loaded him up in the back of his tiny little pickup everyone called “Jimmy.” That morning the truck had been filled with vibrant green watermelons. That afternoon it carried a calf on death’s door. Both cargoes had a lot to teach me about living a life of love. We drove the little cow home, named him Oreo, and nursed him back to health.

Oreo started a chain reaction. We would sell our watermelons, go to the auction, and dad would buy a calf. They were almost always sickly and small. Without fail every one of them needed to be fed by a bottle. In a single summer our farm became a nursery for the downtrodden bovine masses. We were like a safehouse for diseased little orphan cows.

I didn’t know enough back then to realize what was happening. Today it makes perfect sense. My dad, The Watermelon King, as I heard the auctioneer say so many times, didn’t believe in hopeless cows or hopeless anything. Dad has always believed when you mix hard work with big faith you can land right in the middle of great hope. When hope seemed like a longshot to so many my dad saw the opportunity.

I guess I must have picked it up along the way. It’s hard for me to see a hopeless situation. I embrace the challenge. I find it almost impossible to shy away from the opportunity.

I love that about my dad. Just like I love it about Jesus. In heaven’s roll book there are no hopeless cases. There are simply empty lines waiting to have your name written in them. Everyone has a spot. Everyone has an invitation. Regardless of history or hang-up.

I cannot remember a childhood summer not completely occupied by watermelons. Some kids remember band camp. Some can fondly recall team camps and travel baseball. For the occupants of the King Farm it was all about those watermelons.

There have been many summers when the conditions for growing watermelons were extremely difficult. Even in the best of conditions the work can still be brutally hard. None of those factors have ever deterred the Watermelon King. During the extra hot or the extra dry years, he pumps water to his plants from nearby ponds. If there is an abundance of pests taking the crop he sorts out countermeasures. Over the decades he’s come up against plenty of hard times. Still the watermelons come off the vine by the thousands. This year will be no different.

I don’t really know how I could even begin to quantify the amount of time I spent working those fields before life sent me elsewhere. My dad has done it his entire life.

It was sometimes backbreaking work. There was the planting season when we’d crawl on our hands and knees transplanting tiny plants. Later we would walk the same long rows of young plants again with a garden hoe in hand as we went around killing weeds. We would plow, and fertilize, and irrigate, and protect. All the things you do to protect such an undertaking.

Inevitably right around Independence Day each year dad would begin to pick some to check them. Once they were ripe the next few weeks would be a blur of picking, stacking, carrying, sweating, and selling. It was enough to make a young man start wishing for school to start.

Dad knew what his dad knew before. The Watermelon King learned it from Preacher King. Work makes winners. There is progress in the process. A watermelon doesn’t spring up overnight. A man doesn’t either.

It can be a hard way to live. It can also be a holy way to live. There is a simple joy found in it. A unique perspective. Years of toting all the ripe green fruit shaped me in so many ways. It strengthened my arms as well as my heart. It set the stage for what God has been teaching me now for more than twenty-five years—living things grow. There is beauty in the progress. Jesus knows no hopeless cases or empty fields. No conditions are too hard or intimidating. He works in us and on us and calls it good.

It starts with a seed in the soil. It sprouts, blossoms, and yields life. You can’t have a field without the work, and the field is fruitless without the process.

The faith life for those following Jesus is not so different. It starts with a small seed in good soil. Your soul sprouts, blossoms, and gives fruit. It gives life. You can’t have the faith without the work, and the faith is fruitless without the process.

The Miracle of the Moment: When Faith Flexes

Late one night in March my son Ethan was born. It was an incredible day. The culmination of months of prayer, joy, nervousness, faith, and preparation. Jamie and I didn’t know how to be parents. Four kids and nine years later I often wonder if we still don’t. But it didn’t really matter at Saint Mary’s hospital in the infant delivery ward the day our Ethan arrived.

Like many first-time parents we were waiting expectantly for the day to come when we would be able to hold our little prince in our arms. Our friends and family celebrated the onset of our parenthood with gifts and parties. It was a season of incredible joy as everyone in our lives gathered around us. A heightened sense of anticipation descended on our circle of friends, close loved ones, and faith family. Ethan’s due date came and went with no small amount of nervousness on our part.

Jamie’s doctor departed for a family cruise and we were introduced to some new guy. He was not the kind lady we had spent the last nine months learning to trust. He seemed capable, sure, and kind, and all the kinds of things you hope for if the situation arises when you need another doctor to perform the baby-delivering equivalent of pinch-hitting.

A week passed. Jamie and Baby Ethan were perfectly fine according to all tests, but I was getting super nervous. Still, this was nothing compared to my dad. Finally, the substitute baby doctor guy announced early the next week he would need to step in and help the process along. Allowing nature to delay much longer would begin to cause opportunities for major complications. We trusted this guy because we trusted who invited him into our lives.

So, on a Monday morning we showed up at the hospital with all our bags packed to begin the process. Boy was it a process. All day tests were running, conversations were had, and doctors seen. It was a day of waiting, praying, and trusting. Like never before, and rarely since, Jamie and I both felt the muscles of our faith flex as if to say, “don’t be afraid.”

We shared the news of what was happening, first with our loved ones, and then the world at large across social media. The love poured in. It was as if dozens and maybe even hundreds of people were lending us their faith because each one knew this was new territory for us. With every passing moment we drew closer to the miracle we had prayed and waited for. As all those moments crept by, we could feel the reassurance of love.

It was like this incredible substance was propping us up. It was a palpable gathering of the unseen activated on our behalf. What one writer in the Bible described as faith via the evidence of things not seen. We couldn’t see it, but we could feel it. The ramifications were evident as our souls were encouraged.

The long day stretched longer. Someone, I think my mother, brought my favorite hamburger and a chocolate shake. I wasn’t hungry. How could I be hungry awaiting such a monumental miracle? But I ate the entire thing and remained not hungry as I drank down all forty liquid ounces of the superb chocolate shakey goodness.

The long day stretched, and yawned, and winked into night as a sliver of the moon rose above our small town as if to say it was almost time. Just like another man in the Bible described the arrival of a baby in a barn—it was the fullness of time, our time, and my son took his first beautiful breath on this earth.

I cried. My wife cried. It was faith made manifest. It was trust personified. It was the full range of the miraculous in motion and thrust upon our family with all the majesty of the moment. Faith was flexing big right before my eyes with the full force of the love God has for all of us.

Ethan was a promise given. A promise born. It wasn’t just a baby born that day, but it was a mother and father, a grandmother and grandfather, an uncle and cousins. A ripple of life echoed across everyone meaning anything to us and we were all changed. We were all made to mean a little more. We were all together in this and it was lovely beyond imagination.

Faith is a muscle we flex across a myriad of moments, but it is also a miracle that resounds with the finality of lightning. It is both ethereal and ever present. It is surmounting and inescapable in its subjugation of the right now and its dance across our unknown.

We can know, and we can hope, and we can see, and we can trust. Even when we don’t feel it, especially when we don’t feel it. Even when it seems elusive and illusive. When our faith seems deeply inadequate, we can borrow some from a friend.

There have been plenty of times when my faith was not enough. I had to look beyond my own hiccups and draw deeply from the reservoirs of a friend. My mentor, pastor, and close friend Mark is a continuing source of this for me.

Mark likes to joke that he is Iron Man because he has a mechanical heart valve. I’ve never done it, because I don’t make a habit of putting my ear to grown men’s chests, but his wife says she can hear it ticking away at home in the silence of the night. Every flicker of Mark’s heart is a faith moment as he trusts in what he can’t see. He’s lived a full life of putting Jesus at the center, loving people well, and leading and serving with great integrity. He is without a doubt one of the greatest men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Mark had been my family’s pastor for a while. He loved us through some big changes in our life. He led us through even more changes. And he helped launch us into our dream of becoming pastors of our own new, growing, and healthy church family. All of it came with a lot of bumps, talks, prayers, conversations, and confidence. His faith muscle is even bigger than his biceps (which are gigantic). I know when my faith is flickering I can borrow some from him.

There was a guy like this in the Bible who met Jesus one day. He needed help. He needed a miracle. Jesus asked him if he believed and he said, “Yes! But help me with my unbelief.”

This guy’s story demonstrates what way too many people are being silent about in their own faith journey. We’ve spent years communicating (intentionally or otherwise) you can’t experience both faith and doubt at the same time. I’m not buying it. The faith in our life flexes so much more when there’s uncertainty to face down first.

Ethan’s first breaths weren’t the normal baby breaths doctors expect to be greeted by. There was something much different about them. Something alarming to the people who know what to look for.

So, after a moment of celebration and wonder the well-meaning doctor pulled our son from my wife’s arms and whisked him away to another room. Suddenly, here at the end of an already long and emotional day we found the depth of raw emotions butting up against our years of working faith. We prayed. People we love prayed. Friends, family, and our church prayed. Heaven was on the receiving end of a barrage of people flexing together. The culminating trust of so many echoed big along those hallowed corridors.

Part of me wonders if those who went home before us jumped in to lend their faith as they heard the echoes pass them by. It might sound like wonky theology, but I can just imagine Grandma and Grandpa King picking up the clarion call as they mustered their faith from their remarkable perspective. Jamie said it best from the midst of her confused and longing heart, “I want my Ethan.” Love wants what love wants. It wasn’t just a cry of desperation. It was a statement of faith echoing across eternity as it was repeated in the mouths of praying loved ones.

Ethan’s birth was the culmination of something hard to articulate in a few paragraphs. The sudden alarm for his well-being was something altogether different. As the combined prayers of the many continued in petition of our Heavenly Father the strange breathing normalized. Ethan was returned to mommy’s embrace.

Just like that God showed me how good the experience of our faith at work can be. He didn’t show it to me once. He didn’t even show it to me twice. He showed me twice in the same day.

Faith flexed the moment Ethan was born. It was the bright miracle of a new life entering this world for all to see. It was the holy awe of what it feels like to love a living creation of your own soul. Faith also made itself known as the alarming moments of misunderstanding fell away before complete trust in our amazing Father.

Faith is practiced. It is work. It is art. It is a muscle we hone, and it is also a miracle. The miracle of faith isn’t only a progression of movement between moments, it is also a sublime experience of the miraculous in the moment.

There will be plenty of moments throughout our lives when we must lean deeply into faith in the private spaces of our day-to-day decisions. There will also be those penultimate circumstances when a loved one, friend, neighbor, or son needs us and our faith.

Our faith is a beautiful thing when it stands on its own—trusting Jesus like the guy in the story I mentioned. Our faith is a glorious thing when it stands together as it did for us the night Ethan was born. Those are amazing moments of holding, helping, and hoping within a community of people all believing and trusting for the same thing. Such a myriad of personalities coming together and bombarding heaven with a joining of faith catches the attention of heaven in an entirely different way.

Faith is the substance of our hope. It is the evidence of what we don’t see. It is the everyday stuff, the working it out stuff, and it is the miracle happening just when we need it most.

Hug A Skunk

Have you ever hugged a skunk? Not those rare and elusive tamed pet skunks you sometimes hear stories about. I’m talking about wild, untamed, actual skunks. The stinky kind. No? Well neither have I, but I came close once.

When I was about eleven years old my cousin Justin and I were travelling down a country road deep in the mountains of Arkansas one summer night. It was sticky and humid, like most summer nights in our home state. Despite the humidity, dust danced up from the dirt road as the pickup truck bounced along the familiar way, dodging holes and the odd rabbit.

Justin’s cousin Jason was driving, and he tapped the brakes when something caught his eye in the ditch. Sweaty and happy, we all spilled out of the pickup like good little country boys to discover a litter of baby skunks on the side of the road. There were five or six of the little stinkers and they all just stood there looking at us.

We messed around with them for what must have seemed like an hour. We playfully attempted to catch them but in all actuality were just poking them with sticks and watching them turn to point their little butts in our direction. I don’t know the technical term for it, but the part of their physiology that makes the stinky stuff must not have worked yet. Instead of spraying us with their telltale scent they just looked like confused cats fending off our thin sticks with their fluffy tails.

It went on like this for a while before we all gave up and realized we needed to get back to the house or we would be in trouble. So, we loaded back into the truck and went home for the night—dust, skunks, and our hopes of making pets of them left behind.

We were laughing and having a great time wondering out loud what having a pet skunk would be like. It’s not like we really had any idea, but it was fun. It was the stuff of boyhood whimsy and fantasy, albeit an admittedly strange one.

It wasn’t until we got out of the truck that my Uncle Roy met us outside his house and marveled in his direct fashion just how bad we smelled. Had we hit a skunk? We hadn’t even thought about the smell. Because we couldn’t smell it.

But boy—oh—boy could everyone else at the house. Everyone was gagging. Their eyes watered with the weight of their mirth and the pungent stench of country skunk. Jason was laughing hysterically at a punchline unfamiliar to me. We were banished from the house for the evening.

Someone turned on the water hose and we stripped butt naked outside. Scrubbing with dish soap, vinegar, and the cold flow from the hose made the summer night seem not so hot or humid anymore. It was only when we began to be clean that I started to smell the stench.

Somehow the adventure of the moment had masked the associated odor. It seems unbelievable to imagine doesn’t it? Skunks may not be common in your part of the world, but there is an almost universal reaction amongst those I know who come across them. The reaction is not unlike my Uncle Roy’s, “That stinks!”

It makes me wonder what else I’ve let into my life that stinks. Maybe not literally, I’m pretty sure my wife would speak up about an actual physical smell. But what else stinks?

How do I treat my neighbors and friends? What’s my attitude like? How’s my work ethic? Do the people I don’t know very well think I stink?

I’m not sure how much I should worry about all those things, or even if I should worry about those things where most people are concerned. But I do want to worry about them where the most important people are concerned. I don’t want the good times, even the ones which might seem playful or innocent to cause a stink for my family.

I don’t want my neighbors to avoid me because I repulse them either. This can be a tricky thing these days. Especially in a contrarian culture.

Let’s be honest here for a moment. We’ve all met those Christians. The ones who are always causing a stink.

They get mad because a company celebrates Christmas in a way they don’t like. They are touchy about something a movie might poke fun at. Or they just want to kind of police the world with their specific brand of what’s right or wrong.

These Christians can be loud about it. They may even be right about what they have to say. But how you show up determines the reception.

I used to enjoy wielding my faith like a filter for acceptance. But the more I became a student of God’s love for me the more he trashed my filter.

I don’t want my faith to stink. I don’t want to pollute it. I don’t want to water it down. But I don’t want to beat people up with it either.

I think faith is at its best when it’s challenging me to embrace the work Jesus is still trying to do in me. When I get it right it’s winsome and it is inviting. It’s not repulsive or repellant. It’s compelling and endearing.

Often, well-intentioned followers of Jesus wield love like a test; but when you make love a test everyone fails.

There was a lady in the Bible having dinner with Jesus and his friends. Suddenly she took out a jar of extremely expensive perfume and just poured it on Jesus’ feet. It was her way of saying she knew her life was smelly. So, she gave up something dear to the only One who could really do anything about it.

Do you know what happened next in the story? While this lady Mary was crying and cleaning Jesus’ feet with her hair in a beautiful act of love; all the cranky religious people were busy being upset. They were surrounded by the literal smell of an unparalleled act of love. And were too busy making a stink to even catch the significance.

I don’t ever want to try to catch a skunk again. It did not go well. I don’t want to let anything stinky into my life. Instead I want to offer what I can to Jesus. I want to love as many people as possible. I want to let his work in me shape me into someone who is helping people find him.

I’m convinced all of us can stop being offended. We’re only offended because of our pride, and our pride stinks. Jesus didn’t die for our pride. He paid a high price for our invitation into a better way to live. Our every breath is another opportunity to learn it.

All The Sweeter

Today I learned something amazing. My wife and I are having a baby girl. What?!?! The KingCasa will no longer be solely driven by the testosterone fueled mischief of an all boy abode.

For weeks when someone would ask about Baby #4 I would just say, “I assume we are having a boy until science says otherwise.” Science says girl. And we’re thrilled. Not because we were wanting to add ribbons and bows to the mix. We’re thrilled because this adventurous life just got bigger and better. We would have been happy with any result. But yeah, there is a certain Grandma in the scenario who was really angling for a little princess—as well as two of my closest friends who both have daughters of their own.

Isn’t it just like God to completely surprise you? I’ve always liked good surprises. Suddenly, like we so often do, Jamie and I find ourselves in brand new beautifully-terrifying-territory. I don’t know ANYTHING about girls. I still find it a little bewildering that I found one who likes me enough to stick around.

But the faith life is nothing if not an ever stepping trek into the new and the unknown. One more jaunt up a hill whose pinnacle of hope masks a horizon of promise painted long before the first sunrise made its away across the globe. God knows. He knew it. He made it so.

He hung it there for us to find. He sat it there for us to walk upon in our wild journey into all of the good things he makes ready for the ones he loves. That’s you by the way. It’s me too. What a ride. The joy of this journey of faith is sometimes juxtaposed against a sadness for all the ones I’ve known who never dared to give it a shot. For in faith’s embrace life is made all the sweeter.

Wear Your Reminder

I woke up this morning, got ready for work, shuttled my little boys to preschool and headed for my office. Just as I was getting into my car I noticed this:

One of my kids had decided to brand me this morning before I woke up. The sneaky little dude.

Old Nathan would have washed it off so I could look professional. After all, I am supposed to teach college students how to speak in a professional environment. This Nathan, the one I am today is leaving it there all day.

I’m not a tattoo guy and I never will be. I have some friends who are tattoo people. They have stories for all of their ink. I have a story for my ink too. The story of my ink is love.

My son loves me. Heck, maybe Jamie did it—but I know she loves me. How do you think we had so many kids?

My son loves daddy and he left me a reminder on my arm that will be there all day long. I might leave it all week. Because love marks us.

When we have been touched by love. By real love. It changes something about us.

Those of us who follow Jesus get really enthusiastic about it sometimes. I think that is fantastic. We should be excited about such big love at work in our lives. We should relish in the way it marks our life. We should never been ashamed, embarrassed, or afraid to show off the artistic beauty of grace to those we find in close proximity.

When I was in high school we all wore these bracelets all the time that said, "WWJD". It was an acronym for a great question: What Would Jesus Do? I think when it started it was meant to remind us to think through our decisions—but, at least for many of the people I knew who wore them, it became more a fashion piece than a guiding principle.

I don't want the mark love leaves on me to be fashionable. I'm not trying to show it off like a shiny new toy. I just want to revel in the truth that love is changing, challenging, and growing me. I think when we're at our best in the love of Christ we don't have to make a huge deal about it because the way we love everyone else in turn makes a huger deal about it. God's love at work in you, and the impact you make in the lives of those you come into daily contact with, is a bigger statement than most of our statements. We don't have to always say it or show it. We can just do it. We can live it.

The breath in our lungs is a reminder of God's grace on us. The gravity that glues us to the ground is like a divine embrace. The hope we can know and feel and live shines on us as sure as a sunrise. Let love be your reminder. Wear that. Share it everywhere you can.

Where Are You Going?

​Dave Matthews asked a compelling question. I know it was a compelling question because it was featured heavily in one of the only movies Adam Sandler made that didn’t stink. Dave’s question: Where are you going?

So, um, where are YOU going? Usually when a guy like me asks that question what we really want to know is if you think you’re going to heaven. That’s a pretty monumental question. You should have a good answer for that one.

But I mean right now. Where are you going? Grocery store? Football practice? Shady backroom business deal? Are those real?

Where are you going? As in—what are you on your way to do?

I’m convinced we are all going somewhere. A key part of my faith leads me to believe in a postmortem metaphysical destination— aka afterlife. But I sincerely hope you don’t wait until you’re dead to go somewhere. You have a perfectly great before life available to you right now.

Do something with it. Run with the bulls. Buy a guitar and write your wife love songs. Figure out a way to tap into the stuff inside your soul that fires you up—and do a lot of that. Invite other people to do it with you.

I know someday will be my last day. And like the guy with the big sword and blue face said—I want all of my days between this one and that one—to mean something.

So where are you going? Where I’m going is in the direction of somewhere I’ve never been. It’s a new me that is learning as much as I can. Loving as much as I can. Living as much as I can.

Because the where we’re going right now is less about a set of points on a map and more about a drive through the mountains. Full of twists and turns and ups and downs and all of the beautiful in betweens. Where are you going? Wherever it is I hope you won’t go it alone.

Everyday Difference

 “Make a life-giving difference in your everyday world.” That was the answer to the question I had never even realized I needed to ask: What do you want to do with your life?

As a man of faith, and family it can be really easy to pour my everything into those two things. But the simple and honest reality is I am more than a man of faith; and I more than a husband, Dad, son, brother, etc.. The two inform a major piece of me, maybe even the majority of me, but I am more—and so are you.

I mess this up a lot. There are entire days that meander by with my having made almost no difference for anyone whatsoever. Especially if I get caught in the self-reflective trap that’s so easy to slog my way into on occasion. 

However, what I really want is to leave everyday a little better because I showed up. I want every room to be a little brighter because I brought love there with me. I want everyone to know they are important.

I get it wrong a lot. I’m still learning a lot about this.  But I know my life is aimed at something bigger than I’m able to do on my own. I know I want to learn a little more, love a little more, and live a little more.

I want to do all of it in the company of the people who mean the most to me—and I want to invite as many as possible into this same adventure. High-fives, handshakes, and attaboys are the tip of the ice-berg. Let’s aim at the everyday difference we can leave in our wake when we love everyone the right way.

Let’s lay down our conditions. Let’s set aside stereotypes, hasty generalizations, and the mind numbing polarization that frankly most of us grew tired of months ago. Let’s offer a kind word, a neighborly gesture, and strong hand to those who need us.

Let’s get where we’re going in the glad company of everyone around us. Let’s do it together. Let’s make an everyday difference. What are we waiting for? 

Deep Roots

  Today's my parents anniversary! God knew he'd have to put two amazing people together to come up with someone as epic as me... 

Joking aside, I'm so thankful for their values, authenticity, and faith—driven by a love and selflessness that has always modeled God's love better than anything else. Faith has always came easy to me. I have had a lot of people ask me why that is over the years. I never knew quite how to answer that question until today.  It's easy for faith to grow strong in your life when your roots run deep.

Say a prayer for them today when you read this. My momma is taking care of my brother who is still recovering from surgery and my dad is no doubt in a watermelon patch.  Thanks for reading. Go make a difference in someone's life today.

Baby Eyed Faith

   I have always had strong faith. Faith just comes really naturally to me. That isn't to say that I have not gone without struggles. And I find myself deep in doubt more often that I am comfortable admitting. But overall I am quick to grasp faith in God, his goodness, and his personal impact on both my eternal and temporal my well-being. But I know after countless conversations over the years that I am not necessarily the norm in the faith department. Staring into our one month old son's eyes last night I started thinking of this verse from Matthew's gospel in a different way. 

And he said: "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 18:3 NIV)

My son Jonathan is a month old. This early in his development his vision is roughly 20/400. He sees nothing but a blur past the twelve to eighteen inch mark, and colors are largely something he will not even begin to appreciate for three more months. What does this have to do with faith?

Jon doesn't have to scramble, cry, and worry for everything in his life, it is provided for him. He doesn't have to fret for his safety and well-being. It is provided for him. All my son has to do is sit back and be. 

He just has to be my son. The very fact that he lives and breathes, that he is mine, bestows upon him the guarantee for protection and provision given to the fullest measure of my ability.

Even in my easy approach to faith there are moments of darkness. There is apparent blurriness. There are times when I do not have the answers and no answers seem forthcoming. Those are the moments when even walking by faith seems impossible. 

In those moments we must simply be. We must belong to the Father. We must realize that just being his guarantees us the fullest redemptive measure of provision and protection that is His to muster, which is all of it.

It's yours. Just be His kid. 

That doesn't guarantee you a steep bank account and a lavish life. But it is an unshakable eternal promise worth SO MUCH MORE.

The 3rd Lament: God's Great Faithfulness

When I think of Lamentations it's not usually a go-to source for encouraging scripture. But Lamentations 3:19-24 paints an incredible word picture of the beauty of God's love for us. I want to visit this wonderful passage over the next few days in hopes that it will encourage you as much as it has encouraged me.

... there’s one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope: GOD ’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. How great your faithfulness! I’m sticking with GOD (I say it over and over). He’s all I’ve got left. (‭Lamentations‬ ‭3‬:‭19-24‬ MSG Emphasis Added)

How great is the faithfulness of God? Have you ever considered that question? I mean, after all, what is faithfulness? It is the condition of being full of faith. An ongoing permeation of belief in something.

God has great faithfulness. God permeates faith.

After all it is by him that we believe in him. It is by his words that we have faith. It his because of his great limitless love that we are adopted in.

God's faithfulness is not measured by moments, actions, or attempts. It is not defined by works, not even those wondrous things by which we come to him. God's great faithfulness is measured only by him. That is to say, God is inseparable from his great faithfulness.

He will always believe. He will always be the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of the unseen. (See Hebrews 11:1) Or as one translation puts it, he is our confidence.

God's great faithfulness is as reliable as he is. Always. He has great faith. Both in himself, and in his love for you. Yes, God's great faithfulness means something for you. It means God always believes in the you that you could be. Because the blueprint for your potential rests in the grace of God alone.

God's great faithfulness is pointed right at you.

The 3rd Lament: Loyal Love

When I think of Lamentations it's not usually a go-to source for encouraging scripture. But Lamentations 3:19-24 paints an incredible word picture of the beauty of God's love for us. I want to visit this wonderful passage over the next few days in hopes that it will encourage you as much as it has encouraged me.

... there’s one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope: GOD ’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. How great your faithfulness! I’m sticking with GOD (I say it over and over). He’s all I’ve got left. (‭Lamentations‬ ‭3‬:‭19-24‬ MSG Emphasis Added)

Jeremiah went through a pretty horrible time. He is often called The Weeping Prophet. And his writings portray much of the anguish he must have experienced.

Like Jeremiah we ourselves face difficult things from time to time. The thing that gives me incredible hope in the love of God is the great opportunity we have in those hard moments. In difficulty we find a fight or flight scenario. We can run. Forget. Abandon. Or we can step up (or be lifted up) to be seized by the kind of certainty that can only come through a faith that has been tested and tried. Faith isn't easy. I would submit to you that anyone saying total faith in God is easy has probably never had to live where the rubber meets the road.

This kind of fighting faith was Jeremiah's every waking moment. Instead of throwing in the towel he went round for round. He stood toe to toe with all of the craziness happening around him. Stuff like death threats, starvation, imprisonment, and assassins. He never quit. He didn't give up on God. Why? Why did he keep his grip on hope?

Because Jeremiah remembered the inexhaustible love of God.

Jeremiah knew that God's love is loyal. Even when we quit God will never leave us or forsake us. (Read Dueteronomy 31:6)

Jeremiah knew that God's love has an endless source, namely God himself. This Loyal Love is rooted in the very nature of the one who wields it. There is always more for those who go looking to find it.

Jeremiah knew that God's love is merciful. The love of God is full of undeserved grace. That unending, unmerited, supply of affection comes to those who certainly do not deserve it. Yet it comes. God's love is the merciful product of the God of mercy.

Jeremiah knew that God's love couldn't have dried up. It may have felt that way, looked that way, or seemed that way—but the prophet knew. Deep down in the Well of Living Water is an unquenchable source. The love that does not run dry is the love that defies all apparent circumstances.

Jeremiah knew this. I believe it kept him going through the most difficult times. You can be sure that God's loyal and merciful love is in full supply for you. Today. Wherever you are. Whatever you've done. No matter your circumstance. Ask him for some and watch the floodgates open.

Walk-a-what?!?

40 years.......F-O-R-T-Y! That's a long freaking time to walk. And for what or why? Moses and the children of Israel wandered aimlessly through the dessert. Well, that's not entirely true. They had a target. They had somewhere to be. An appointment with the Promised Land, but they chickened out.

Twelve guys went in to check it out and only two came back ready to obey God and take the land. Ten naysayers got loud and got their way.

Pessimism talks. And people listen.

But as people of faith, when God speaks we should let his clear directive ring in true in our hearts long after the doubting crowd has shuffled off to the next fad cause.

Listen. Believe. Obey.

I don't always make the mark. Sometimes I just straight up fail. But we can't afford to fail like those guys Moses sent out did. They delayed destiny, robbed a generation of their inheritance, and had to walk it off for forty years. YIKES!

You can read the story for yourself in Exodus through Deuteronomy in the Old Testament of the Bible.

December 19 - Through Faith

Romans 4:13-25

No unbelief made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised. (Romans 4:20, 21 ESV)

Abraham trusted God's promise. He wasn't the only one. There are numerous examples in scripture of God leading his people toward something, and them putting their faith in Him.

Faith in Jesus is a powerful thing. It is the foundation of hope, and the cradle of belief. It is precious. It is up-lifting. It is life-giving and life-changing.

Abraham's faith was potent, not because of his mental capacity to understand, or his soulful yearning to believe. Abraham had a complete faith, in that his faith influenced his behavior. Faith caused him to do stuff.

It is through our faith in Jesus as Lord and Savior that we find freedom from sin and death. This faith is demonstrated by our actions and reactions. It informs and influences the initiative we take to help others, and the way we respond to how we are treated. Faith carries us through hard times, but it's also through faith that we will know everlasting peace and assurance.

December 3 - In Jesus' Name

Read: Acts 3:1-10

But Peter said, “I have no silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!” And he took him by the right hand and raised him up, and immediately his feet and ankles were made strong. (Acts 3:6, 7 ESV)

Three little words. "In Jesus' name." Where I'm from they are almost the token ending to every prayer I have ever heard, and quite a few that I have prayed. But there is power in Jesus' name. It is a special name.

Peter knew there was authority in the name of Jesus. He had experiential knowledge of the power of Jesus. Also, he had faith—and was emboldened by the Holy Spirit—to proclaim healing for the crippled man at the gate.

The name of Jesus gets thrown around a lot by people who assume that its a magic set of syllables. Too often people wrongly assume that they can declare something supernatural will happen, sprinkle the name of Jesus around—and then POOF, that thing has to happen. That's not how it works. It has never worked like that.

Peter rightly understood that authority rested with Jesus. The power was from the Holy Spirit. And that the combined faith of the parties involved activated the work that God was looking to do in the life of the crippled man. Peter knew that in Jesus' name he had access to God, he had access to power, but he did not have control.

October 21 - He Trusts God

Matthew 27:39-44

"He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he desires him. For he said, ‘I am the Son of God.’” (Matthew 27:43 ESV)

Jesus was being ridiculed and mocked as he hung upon the cross. Many gathered nearby to hurl insults aimed at Jesus' assertion that he was the Son of God. The unbelievers present saw opportunity to manipulate the situation for their pleasure. They sarcastically threw Jesus' identity, mission, and role in his face. Jesus never wavered in his trust for God.

When you know who you are in God you can trust Him. And the first part of that is simply knowing God Himself. With a cognitive knowledge and recognition of God and who He is to you comes the opportunity to develop an understanding for the implications that reality has on your own life. Implications that can be so profoundly impactful that they anchor your trust to God. That's the way it was for Jesus.

Once you have came to terms with the identity that flows from God to you—mission is only a heartbeat away. Just as God pours identity into you, He also puts mission before you. Mission is the great purpose for your life. It is you cause. It is God-mandated, divinely appointed. A man on mission will find a level of satisfaction and fulfillment so deeply entrenched in the peace of God that his trust for God will be unshakable.

Identity and mission work together to push you to your role. Identity answers who and whose you are. Mission answers what you should do. Role is the practical application of both—it is about being who you are and doing what you should do.

The mob didn't understand that about Jesus. His trust lay in a place beyond their mental or spiritual capacity to fathom. Yours can too.

September 5 - Falling Away

John 16:1-4

I have said all these things to you to keep you from falling away. (John 16:1 ESV)

Have you ever known someone who walked away from their faith in Jesus? Perhaps not. Theologians and all manner of people smarter than myself have argued over even the possibility of such a thing for years.

Jesus said it was possible for people to fall away from their faith. He was warning his followers of some of the terrible things to come in hopes that they would maintain faith. He didn't want the trials and afflictions of persecution to drive them away from their belief in him.

It worked. Nearly all of the original twelve disciples went on to give their lives for their belief in Christ. Christianity spread like a flame in a forest. People have continued to believe in Jesus as their savior for nearly two millennia.

In western culture we as Christ followers don't generally face direct physical persecution. Instead we often come up against simmering ridicule, sarcastic academic scrutiny, and posturing political posers. It is sometimes a nearly subconscious or passive aggressive kind of tension that wears away at our faith, if we let it. We have a choice in all things, we choose to let these things push us closer to Christ, or we choose let them erode our faith. If we do succumb to the pressure until the foundations of our faith erode away, we too may one day run the risk of falling away.

August 24 - Drink of It

Matthew:26-17-29

And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you..." (Matthew 26:27 ESV)

During his final meal with all of the disciples Jesus instituted what has since come to be known as Communion. It is observed as a way to remember the sacrifice that Christ made. He said a prayer of thanksgiving, and then passed the cup of wine for his followers to drink.

Jesus wanted them to drink from the cup. Why? A room full of people sharing a cup sounds kind of gross to our way of thinking. But the significance behind the act goes far beyond hygiene or etiquette. The cup he was passing was a symbolic reference to the blood he was about to shed in sacrifice. He was installing the idea that it is only by his blood that salvation comes.

Jesus' blood is the catalyst for our salvation. It is because of his sacrificial death that we have the opportunity to experience renewed life with God. It is only ours when we drink from the cup he offers, not a literal cup, but an offering of life, death, and resurrection into life.

August 23 - They Prepared

Mark 14:12-16

And the disciples set out and went to the city and found it just as he had told them, and they prepared the Passover. (Mark 14:16 ESV)

Jesus told his disciples that if they went to a certain house and asked for it to be made available to them the owners would accommodate them. It worked out exactly like he had said. Interestingly, the Scriptures record that the disciples then prepared the Passover meal.

I don't know how familiar you are with Passover but it is a long meal. It can last upwards of four hours and is quite the experience. Passover was a big deal for the Jews. Jesus took the opportunity at his final such meal with his disciples to reinforce some ideas. It was their final hours together as a group before his arrest. And the disciples prepared the Passover.

You see sometimes before God can do the work He wants to do, we have to prepare for it. Not that He needs us, or couldn't work without us, but He chooses to accomplish things through us. Sometimes that season of preparation, no matter how long or short, is exactly what we need to experience us to position us for the great work God is about to do.