I can play football with him.

I can let him eat his plain cheeseburger inside Wendy’s on one of our adventure outings, which we’ve dubbed “Boys’ Day.”

But nothing gets him more pumped than these words:

“Hey buddy, come help your dad.”

This past Sunday was the fall chili crock-pot extravaganza at the church we’ve been attending. My job was to get a bubbling, sloshing vat of delicious, soupy goodness from our house to the church.

I enlisted the boy to help.

“Hey buddy, come help your dad.”

He opened the door for me, guided me to the truck, and made sure we had our Bibles so I could focus on the crock-pot.

When we arrived at church, he did the same thing.

A few minutes later, his mom arrived. In front of him, I told her what a great job he’d done helping get the crock-pot to the church.

He lit up.

I try to remind myself how much joy he finds in helping me. Sometimes, I’m tempted to do things by myself. If I’m honest, he’s not the most efficient helper. I mean, he’s eight.

But there’s something special about letting him help hold a door, shine a flashlight, carry out the trash, or tackle some other seemingly insignificant chore.

Because it’s not really about the chore.

It’s about doing something together.

And it reminds me of a critical part of my relationship with God.

For we are God’s fellow workers. You are God’s field, God’s building. — 1 Corinthians 3:9

God’s design has always included His people working alongside Him. Sometimes that seems strange, because He certainly doesn’t need my help.

I’m a pretty terrible helper most of the time.

Yet there’s a joy in being a co-laborer with our Father that I don’t think we can fully explain.

Sometimes I hesitate to serve in the church or do something for someone else because I wonder: Why would an all-powerful God need me? We might be tempted to think the work should be done by the professionals. We put pastors on a pedestal.

What can little ol’ me do to help a big God?

Paul addressed that kind of thinking when the Corinthians began choosing sides between him and Apollos. He reminded them that they were servants working together to plant and water, but God is the one who gives growth.

Service is privilege made possible by grace.

And I get to work from His grace, not work for it.

Just as I delight in my son helping me with something I could easily do myself, I believe our heavenly Father delights in His children participating in His work.

Throughout Scripture, God works through imperfect men and women to accomplish His purposes. He extends His grace, equips His people, and invites them to participate in what He’s doing.

The privilege isn’t that God needs us.

It’s that He welcomes us despite our flaws.

And sometimes, all it takes to get started is hearing the invitation:

Hey buddy, come help your Father.

The church picnic went well.

Hopefully, someone was blessed by a bowl of homemade goodness.

I did manage to mess up one thing. I told the lady making the placards that the soup my wife had prepared was white chicken chili.

Turns out, my wife prefers to call it taco soup.

So she had to change the placard before the masses started reaching for the ladles.

Like I said, I’m a pretty terrible helper sometimes.

Thankfully, over the years, my wife has become an expert at extending me grace.

So has my Father.

And even when I get things wrong, He still invites me to be a co-laborer in His fields and in His building.

I’m grateful that the work has never depended on my perfection.

And I’m grateful that the Heavenly Father still says, “Hey buddy, give me a hand.”

Who’s on your Mount Rushmore?

Chances are you have heard this rhetorical question posed by a podcaster or ESPN anchor to stir debate over who the top four performers are in a given field, whether quarterbacks, pitchers, or guitarists.

Here’s one for you…

Who’s on your Mount Rushmore of biblical figures?

Trick question …

You can’t even cobble together four answers for this because Christians don’t have a mountain of faith figures.

We have one Cornerstone (Ephesians 2:20, 1 Peter 2:6, Isaiah 28:16).

Yet, if we are honest, we often treat the Bible like another Mount Rushmore. This can be especially prevalent in children’s ministry, where hero-focused curricula promote a moralism that chisels away at the doctrine of grace—teaching kids “be brave like David” instead of “trust in the God who delivered David.”

How many times have you seen Moses taught as the flawless champion of the Exodus, while glossing over the murder that originally sent him fleeing into the desert?

We portray Samson as a muscle-bound Marvel character who rips a lion apart barehanded, but skip the parts where he treated lust and sin like a house pet.

And, of course, we love the story of that ruddy shepherd boy whose sling sent a stone straight into Goliath’s forehead—forgetting the far greater giant of sin that nearly took David down years later.

These men are great examples of how God’s grace and divine sovereignty reign through imperfect men. But we must be cautious not to turn these testimonies into a lifeless monument.

Each of these figures, in some way, points us to the perfect Christ.

It was Jesus who led us in an Exodus from our sin.

It was Jesus who displayed ultimate strength through humbly outstretching His arms on an old rugged cross.

And it was Jesus who slayed the giant of sin and death through His resurrection.

Giving ultimate credit to Old Testament figures for these victories is like praising the moon for producing light. They only reflect light from the Son, the exact same way the moon reflects light from the sun.

This makes the Mount Rushmore debate moot.

To be fair, we aren’t the first culture to look back at Old Testament figures as pillars. Hebrews 11 is famously called the Hall of Faith, but it serves as a reminder that even under the Old Covenant, it was God’s grace through faith—not human perfection or works—that accounted for righteousness.

That’s why Hebrews 12 immediately turns our eyes away from them:

“Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith” — Hebrews 12:2

The writer of Hebrews wrote this to Jews tempted to turn back from their faith in the face of persecution. The author knew that it has always been human nature to turn to men instead of God.

The nation of Israel had started building their own Mount Rushmore type ranking system long before rocks were blasted out of the Black Hills of South Dakota.

Consider these verses from prophets who warned Israel that their pillars of faith would not support the weight of their sin and rebellion.

“Then the LORD said to me, “Though Moses and Samuel stood before me, yet my heart would not turn toward this people. Send them out of my sight, and let them go!” — Jeremiah 15:1

“Even if these three men, Noah, Daniel, and Job, were in it, they would deliver but their own lives by their righteousness, declares the Lord GOD.” — Ezekiel 14:14

Moses, Samuel, Noah, Daniel and Job sounds like a good Mount Rushmore, though one can’t make the cut. That’s precisely why the Mount Rushmore argument is so popular — it forces us to narrow the field to a select quartet.

But God wasn’t name-dropping these men to prove their righteousness. Though they were incredible examples of faith and intercession, God used them to underscore the point that even they could not save the nation from judgment.

All of these men were sinners in need of redemption, just like us. As Paul writes in Romans:

None is righteous, no, not one. — Romans 3:10-11

Paul didn’t invent this idea. He was inspired by Psalms 14 and 53, written by the same ruddy shepherd who as an adult realized the hardest battle he ever entered wasn’t against Goliath.

We can learn a great deal from the life and faith—and failures—of David and every person in the Hall of Faith. We should honor those whose journey has helped shape our own.

But if you are trying to ride their coattails rather than reaching for the hem of Jesus’s garment, you have missed the point (Matthew 9:20–22). We cannot borrow their faith, and we must never mistake them for the true foundation of ours.

Follow our friends at the Suffer Up Podcast, whose mission is to encourage and lead others to suffer with a purpose. They strive to help others level up in life with an emphasis on spiritual, mental and physical wellbeing.

Sailors once tattooed the words HOLD FAST across their knuckles as a reminder to remain steadfast in stormy seas.

Looking down at those ink-marked knuckles reminded them to shake off fear and fatigue—to get a grip when the tempest roared. We all need that reminder sometimes.

Spiritual amnesia is one of the most persistent themes in human history, which is why remembrance is a recurring theme throughout scripture.

In the Old Testament, physical altars were built to mark pivotal moments of deliverance.

Noah built the first the moment he stepped onto dry ground (Genesis 8:20).

Others marked God’s presence in victory—like Moses’ altar at Rephidim, which declared Jehovah Nissi (”The Lord is my Banner”) (Exodus 17:15), or Samuel’s Ebenezer stone, raised to declare, “Till now the Lord has helped us” (1 Samuel 7:12).

These memorials were meant to ensure future generations never forgot. God told Joshua to place twelve stones where he led Israel over the Jordan as a lasting reminder of the crossing:

God also instituted annual feasts—Passover, Pentecost, and the Feast of Tabernacles—to rhythmically remind Israel of the Exodus, the giving of the Law, and their wilderness wanderings.

It was during Passover that Jesus instituted the final and ultimate ordinance of remembrance:

“And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’” — Luke 22:19

He followed with wine to remember His soon-to-be shed blood.

When Luke documented this moment, he used a rare and profound Greek word for remembrance: anamnēsis. The root word is instantly recognizable—it is the direct opposite of amnesia, the loss of memory.

Aside from the Last Supper accounts in Luke and 1 Corinthians, this specific word appears only one other time in the New Testament, in Hebrews 10:3–4, comparing the old covenant system of sacrifice with the new covenant of Christ:

“But in those sacrifices there is a reminder [anamnēsis] of sins every year. For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins.”

The author of Hebrews was writing to persecuted Christians tempted to retreat.

They needed to be reminded to hold fast—to get a grip.

The old sacrificial system was a reminder of sin—a repetitive cycle that could point to sin, but never take it away. Communion points us instead to the finished work of Christ, whose sacrifice does what the blood of bulls and goats never could.

In contrast, communion is a reminder of the only thing that permanently covers and washes away sin.

While this is the ultimate ordinance of remembrance within the church, we still need everyday “stones of help” to tether our wandering hearts.

How do you hold fast when the fog rolls in?

Recently, my family purchased bracelets inspired by David, the animated film from Angel Studios. The strands of tekhelet blue, green, and white echo the ancient biblical threads of remembrance, representing God’s voice, the tribe of Judah, and His ultimate mercy.

Above all, it serves as a tangible reminder of the Great Weaver who knits the tangled strands of life into a beautiful tapestry—the God who graciously gave me a beautiful wife and a rambunctious son, and who gave His only begotten Son as the final sacrifice for our sins.

I look at this band on my wrist every day. When the unexpected storms of life threaten to stir my spiritual amnesia, it serves as a visual anamnēsis of my Savior who controls the winds and waves.

I look down at it and tell myself — get a grip. God is in control.

I may not have the words tattooed on my knuckles, but it’s a great reminder to HOLD FAST.

Follow this link for a companion study guide and workout designed to help small groups gather, grow, and go—putting this week’s devotional into action.

Follow our friends at the Suffer Up Podcast, whose mission is to encourage and lead others to suffer with a purpose. They strive to help others level up in life with an emphasis on spiritual, mental and physical wellbeing.

Third-grade math homework is humbling.

I prefer English, so I’m a bit flummoxed by these fractions.

But, as it turns out, there are some deeper lessons hiding behind these numerators and denominators.

Hear me out …

Fractions are parts of a whole.

Whole numbers are integers.

“Integer” and “integrity” share the same Latin root, meaning “whole” or “untouched.”

What starts as math homework is now an opportunity to discuss living a whole life, untouched by the toxic influences of our troubled time. Even better, it's an opportunity to point toward whole devotion of our holy God — and the dangers of fractional faith.

Trying to give God a piece of our lives while reserving the rest for ourselves is a recipe for disaster.

God isn't asking us for a fraction. He wants the whole thing.

Consider this prayer from Deuteronomy 6:4–5, repeated daily in Jewish tradition and highlighted by Jesus as the greatest commandment (Matthew 22:37–40; Mark 12:28–31):

A great case study for biblical integrity is Job, a man of great faith despite severe trials that fractured his life.

Even when Job loses his wealth, his children, and his health, he holds firm. Not even his wife can persuade him to abandon his integrity. It’s as if he maintains a firm grip on the remaining pieces of his shattered existence, determined to keep everything from unraveling with his faith in God acting as glue.

It's a reminder of our wholeness in God when the circumstances of life feel fractured.

Job ultimately invites God to test his integrity:

Let me be weighed in a just balance, that God may know my integrity. — Job 31:6

What would those scales reveal if we stepped onto them today?

When we try to mix worldly priorities into a life meant to be wholly devoted to God, the scales tip.

In math, adding a fraction to an integer yields a mixed number. In life, doing the same leaves us mixed up, improper, and divided.

Perhaps the most dire consequence of this is the impact on our witness. When people hear us proclaim Christ but see us live a fractured faith it can push people away. It is often said that “more is caught than taught,” meaning your integrity can speak louder than your teaching. Our children especially mimic our actions.

Living with integrity is a constant daily battle surrounded by subtle traps.

Basic arithmetic is probably the least of the pressures facing my son at school each day, which is why both math and integrity are essential lessons.

He must learn that we can't retreat from the world, but rather be distinct within it.

D.L. Moody once observed:

“The best way to show that a stick is crooked is not to argue about it or to spend time denouncing it, but to lay a straight stick alongside it.”

I have to teach my son to speak softly and carry a straight stick—a quick lesson in civics alongside his math homework.

Knowing the straight path does not keep us off the winding road, though.

Even Paul wrestled with doing the very things he knew were wrong (Romans 7:15). He wrote that no one is righteous — no not one! (Romans 3:10).

That's the beauty of the Bible.

Paul was imperfect and Job was broken — yet both are examples of integrity.

They show that integrity does not mean perfection.

And when we inevitably fail, we don’t balance the scales with our own righteousness. We look to Christ, whose righteousness is perfect. His death and resurrection did not just cover a fraction of our sins, and His grace isn’t measured out based on how well we perform.

If you think your bad deeds can keep you out of heaven, then you think your good deeds can get you there. This is not the gospel.

Integrity isn't answering every question on the test correctly.

It simply means refusing to offer God a fraction of a heart He created to be wholly His.

Muster Seeds

Muster Seeds are open-source discipleship guides combining physical training, Scripture, discussion, and prayer. Like a mustard seed, they are small—designed to help men gather, grow, and go.

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Follow our friends at the Suffer Up Podcast, whose mission is to encourage and lead others to suffer with a purpose. They strive to help others level up in life with an emphasis on spiritual, mental and physical wellbeing.

One coat for dust, two coats for rust.

This legendary joke among sailors is a nod to the never-ending reality of maintaining steel ships in a saltwater environment.

It’s a tongue-in-cheek tactic meant to delay using the dreaded pneumatic needle gun—a heavy-duty maintenance tool used to aggressively chip away layers of old paint, scale, and rust from steel decks and bulkheads.

The machine is essentially a nest of rapidly vibrating steel rods.

Think of an angry metal porcupine.

It’s essential equipment.

You can’t simply paint over rust. The underlying corrosion continues and will bleed through new paint. A fresh coat only hides the decay and creates a worse problem later.

Consider this as an analogy for your spiritual life.

Are you slapping another coat of religious paint over the corrosion underneath?

Or applying a thin layer of performative piety to cover the dust you’re trying to hide?

It’ll never work.

Grab a Bible and follow this thread to see what Scripture says about whitewashed faith:

Job 13:4 →

Ezekiel 13:10–15 →

Matthew 23:27

Job: This suffering man of integrity calls out his friends for smearing him with lies—applying religious platitudes and harmful assumptions that offered no healing.

Ezekiel: The prophet delivers God’s warning to false prophets who falsely preach peace instead of repentance. God promises to tear down the whitewashed walls they built over the truth.

Jesus: Matthew documents several of the Savior’s rebukes against the Pharisees including a warning that they are acting as whitewashed tombs—visually beautiful on the outside, but full of death underneath.

Each example has a different context, but points to the same danger that still sticks with us today.

We can slap on a coat of regular church attendance.

We can apply a layer of daily Bible reading.

We can dab on some fluent church-speak and raise our hands during worship.

Some churches even slather on feel good sermons, painting pretty hues over the ugly truth of sin.

But we must drill down past these cosmetic fixes to truly attack sin.

In classical theology, this process is called mortification—the active, Spirit-led practice of putting sin to death before it destroys us.

“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

“Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming. In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth.” — Colossians 3:5–8

Mortification is not self-righteous moralism, nor is it an attempt to earn grace through grit. It is the daily work of surrendering our sin to the Spirit and putting it to death.

Surrender does not mean standing idle, though.

Claiming we have no responsibility in confronting sin is like claiming a fresh layer of paint will permanently eliminate rust. Sometimes you need a needle gun.

This violent work of mortification was classically captured by Puritan theologian John Owen in his 1656 treatise on the subject. He wrote:

“Cease not a day from this work; be killing sin or it will be killing you.”

Owen’s insistence on daily vigilance highlights a critical truth — the longer you ignore rust, the deeper it eats into the structure.

Real restoration requires drilling past surface behavior down to the underlying cause.

“It does little good to simply stop being angry without realizing a strong desire to control people and things. The lust will simply find another way to express itself in its craving for control,” Pastor Erik Raymond wrote in an essay on The Gospel Coalition.

Raymond recommends a twofold approach for root-level mortification:

1. Examine your life against God’s Word. Treat Scripture like a mirror that reveals what’s beneath the surface.

2. Work in active fellowship. Engage with other believers to help one another put sin to death.

These two disciplines should work in tandem.

While studying the Bible in isolation has value, true sharpening happens in a community built on trust where honest friction is invited.

Every men’s ministry in America wants to slap Proverbs 27:17 on the front door, but not all are willing to embrace the uncomfortable heat and flying sparks required when iron truly sharpens iron.

This often feels as abrasive as the needle gun — which is why we avoid both.

But avoiding the problem doesn’t make the problem go away. Imagine letting your brother walk out of a Bible study with a sin that you could have helped correct. I’ve wrestled personally with regret from not being more bold with my brothers.

Go back to Job 13:4. Job was angry because his friends presented bad advice as godly counsel.

They weren’t sharpening him. They were grinding him down.

The most damaging thing you can do is needle gun down to bare metal and then leave it exposed. We can’t leave our brothers out in the rain without covering.

Confrontation without restoration isn’t enough. That’s heartless.

Even Dorothy didn’t leave the Tin Man standing there.

The rust of sin will cause you to similarly seize up.

It will come through the paint.

Sin will come through the spiritual whitewash.

Don’t slap a couple of coats on it.

Drill down beneath the surface.

Expose the rust.

Kill the sin.

And then cover what has been exposed—not with another coat of religious paint, but with the grace of Christ.

Muster Seeds

Muster Seeds are open-source discipleship guides combining physical training, Scripture, discussion, and prayer. Like a mustard seed, they are small—designed to help men gather, grow, and go.

Read full story

Follow our friends at the Suffer Up Podcast, whose mission is to encourage and lead others to suffer with a purpose. They strive to help others level up in life with an emphasis on spiritual, mental and physical wellbeing.

“Can you feel the ship moving when you are out to sea?”

This is one of the most common questions people ask about life on a Navy ship.

The answer is an emphatic, “Yes.”

Our racks even come with straps to keep you from getting slung out by a storm in the middle of the night.

Despite the threat of ejection, the diminutive and dark confines of a Navy coffin rack can provide quality sleep. These bunk beds, usually stacked three high, earn their morbid moniker for their side-opening storage locker and not their danger at sea.

If the outside waves produce a side-to-side sway, it’s actually like a baby in a crib. That’s what it means to be rocked in the cradle of the deep.

I assume Jesus enjoyed this same at-sea slumber when the Synoptic Gospels record Him asleep aboard a boat crossing the stormy Sea of Galilee.

There are several fascinating points made by the gospel writers who record our Savior’s rest.

This event shows Jesus was fully man, experiencing the same human tiredness as us. But it also shows us that Jesus was fully God, resting in the Father’s comfort while holding the power to calm the same storm that lulled Him to sleep.

Fully Man

Each of the synoptic accounts puts Jesus on the ship after a long day of teaching and healing. The details vary in some areas, but this actually gives credibility to the accounts.

Each gospel writer gives us a different angle of the story—much like different camera angles in a film. A conversation in a movie can be captured close-up, at a high angle, or over the shoulder. Each shot offers a distinct perspective and highlights unique details like facial expressions that convey tone. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John each addressed specific audiences, utilizing these distinct lenses to reveal different facets of the same truth.

I experienced this firsthand when I recently reconnected with two close friends I served with on a Navy ship nearly 15 years ago. As we swapped old sea stories, memories drifted back to a specific mission we shared.

Each of us remembered it a little differently. Same time. Same place. Same mission. But different perspectives.

One of my friends is a quartermaster, seeing the operation from the bridge. The other is a boatswain’s mate, experiencing it from the deck. I saw it from my own station. We each had different roles, responsibilities, and vantage points.

And that’s what made the storytelling so rich. One person recalled a detail another had forgotten, while another added a piece that made the whole account clearer—or much funnier.

Those distinct viewpoints didn’t contradict each other — they amplified the whole picture.

The gospel accounts work much the same way. One of the fascinating details included only by Mark is that Jesus “was in the stern, asleep on the cushion” (Mark 4:38). This is the Bible’s only use of the Greek word proskephalaion, meaning pillow or cushion. But notice he specifies the cushion.

Some commentators suggest that first-century fishing vessels on the Sea of Galilee kept a heavy leather bag at the stern, which could serve as ballast and, conveniently, a pillow.

Jesus asleep on this ballast sandbag shows He was buoyed by unwavering faith in the Father while His disciples floundered in fear. As the Bible Hub commentary notes, this minor detail magnifies Christ’s majesty, serving as a “a tangible witness that the One who slumbers in perfect peace also possesses infinite power to still every tempest.”

While Scripture does not explicitly identify Mark’s source for this detail, early church tradition closely connects Mark’s Gospel with Peter. And if Peter was the source behind Mark’s firsthand testimony, who better to remember the cushion detail than the seasoned fisherman who knew those Galilean boats stern to bow?

Fully God

All three gospel accounts align on what happened when Jesus was stirred from His sleep. He stood up and commanded the storm to cease, leaving the disciples to ask in awe, “Who is this man?” His divinity was on full display.

The scene immediately following the tempest is identical in purpose, as well. Jesus arrives on the opposite shore—referred to as the region of the Gerasenes or Gadarenes depending on the gospel—and heals a demon-possessed man, casting a legion of spirits into swine and driving them into the sea.

Some scholars, such as Benjamin Gladd of Wheaton, suggest the storm Jesus slept through was no ordinary squall, but a surge of spiritual opposition—pointing to Old Testament themes where chaotic seas symbolize hostility to God. Indeed, Jesus explicitly “rebukes” the wind upon waking, the same language He uses when casting out spirits.

Whether or not the storm was demonically stirred, this narrative is clearly designed to awaken our Old Testament senses. Many view Jesus’s peaceful sleep as an echo of Psalm 4:8, where David wrote:

In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.

This scene also stands in direct contrast to Jonah, the rebellious prophet who fled God’s call and brought a deadly storm upon his vessel (Jonah 1:5). The parallels between Jonah and Jesus highlight a profound theological chasm:

Jonah slept in rebellion during a storm caused by his disobedience;
Jesus slept in rest during a storm he controlled.

Jonah’s storm was calmed when he was thrown into the sea;
Jesus’s storm was calmed when He spoke over the sea.

Jonah spent three days in the belly of a great fish before reluctantly continuing on God’s mission;
Jesus spent three days in the heart of the earth to redeem the entire world in eager fulfillment of God’s purpose.

Ultimately, Jesus stilled the ultimate storm of sin by walking into the grave and rising three days later in victory—offering eternal salvation to all who surrender to His Lordship. This was the “sign of Jonah” He promised in Matthew 12:39–40.

All of these accounts show Jesus at the helm of our faith. He was fully man, and He is fully God.

The next time life starts pitching and the storm rolls in, remember the ballast in the stern. Lay your head on the weight of His sovereignty, anchor your faith in His authority, and you’ll sleep like a baby—or an old sailor rocked in the cradle of the deep.

Want to go deeper in this study? Use the Muster Seed guide below and follow the link for discussion prompts.

Muster Seeds

Muster Seeds are open-source discipleship guides combining physical training, Scripture, discussion, and prayer. Like a mustard seed, they are small—designed to help men gather, grow, and go.

Read full story

Follow our friends at the Suffer Up Podcast, whose mission is to encourage and lead others to suffer with a purpose. They strive to help others level up in life with an emphasis on spiritual, mental and physical wellbeing.

It’s 5:30 a.m.

Ten men of various ages and fitness levels have forsaken sleep for exercise in a middle school parking lot. They call it F3—Fitness, Fellowship, and Faith.

The group worked through 74-second intervals of different exercises to celebrate the birthday of the eldest man — a 74-year-old Navy vet and cancer survivor.

The workout ended with a run. I tried to be ambitious and follow the stronger guys for a longer distance, but I started to fall back.

Then, a guy I’ve never met turned around and ran beside me. His presence pushed me to the finish line.

This is part of the F3 culture called, “Picking up the six.”

The phrase, popularized in the military, uses a 12-hour clock face as a directional grid—with 12 o’clock straight ahead and 6 o’clock directly behind you.

In F3, the straggler is “The Six.”

I was The Six.

Picking up the six is not simply a matter of courtesy. It’s how the team keeps charging toward 12 o’clock.

The straggler eventually becomes stronger, then he advances forward.

When a new straggler shows up, he goes back to get him.

It becomes a cycle of push and pull that advances the collective body forward, giving life to the F3 credo:

“Leave no man behind, but leave no man where you found him.”

A Call to Action

God has a similar call to action for us.

In Isaiah 58, God responds to His rebellious people who complain that their prayers during fasts are not being heard.

God didn’t need to hear. He could see their hearts.

Their fasting was a fake veneer aimed at keeping them at the head of the pack while neglecting the weak.

Caring for the homeless, hungry, naked, and needy would put their faith into action. And God promises that when they do:

“Your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.” — Isaiah 58:8

This is the second time Isaiah uses the term “rear guard” to emphasize God’s protective presence (the other being Isaiah 52:12, regarding Israel’s return from exile).

The rear guard is the same concept as The Six. It designates the vulnerable position in the back of a formation prone to blind spots and sneak attacks.

The “rear guard” in Isaiah is not just a military metaphor.

We serve a God of action.

The rear guard echoed a key moment as Israel marched through the Red Sea with their Egyptian captors hot on their six:

“Then the angel of God who was going before the host of Israel moved and went behind them, and the pillar of cloud moved from before them and stood behind them.” — Exodus 14:19

A few chapters later, Israel faces its first battlefield test when Amalek attacks them in Exodus 17.

Deuteronomy 25 recounts the battle and adds a key detail — these desert raiders “cut off your tail, those lagging behind you.”

It was a sneak attack from the rear.

It seemed like Israel would be routed, but God’s protection prevailed. The freshly freed slaves defeated Amalek and built an altar to proclaim Jehovah Nissi—The Lord is my banner.

Banners typically went before armies, but God showed He had The Six covered, too.

Get in the Action

How do we pick up The Six in our daily lives?

First, we must realize that we were worse than stragglers when God picked us up. Sin left us dead in our trespasses (Ephesians 2:1).

In Isaiah 58:8, God tells Israel that when they begin to uplift the weak, “your righteousness shall go before you.”

But we have no righteousness to offer apart from Christ (Romans 3:10).

Jesus gave His righteousness to us through His substitutionary sacrifice on the cross. This is imputed righteousness.

Picture the father placing a royal robe around his filthy prodigal son—a beautiful symbol of restoration and grace (Luke 15:22).

Jesus clothes us in His righteousness, yet we often refuse to wear it. Instead, we fight spiritual battles like we are wearing a hospital gown of shame.

Relics from our past are some of the enemy’s favorite weapons. When we allow failure, regret, and shame to paralyze us, we lose sight of God’s full presence.

Those past mistakes can become a crutch. So can shallow religion. Just as God warned Israel that their fasting carried false intentions, we can fall into the trap of merely acting righteous.

We can even resent The Six.

Remember, the prodigal wasn't the only son. The older brother questioned why his brother deserved that robe when he had worked so hard. Self-righteousness was his crutch.

People on crutches don't walk fast. Whatever you lean on other than Jesus will slow you down and eventually make it impossible to pick up anyone else's Six.

When you allow the weight of God's Word to snap those crutches, “then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily.” — Isaiah 58:8

Our past mistakes never dictate God’s future for us.

In fact, the mistakes behind you are often the very thing God uses to deploy you forward.

Paul told Timothy that he was the “foremost” of sinners:

“But I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life.” — 1 Timothy 1:16

I feel like that foremost sinner a lot of days.

I question how I could sense a calling to ministry when I know the mistakes behind me.

I am The Six.

But God’s righteousness is before us.

And the glory of the Lord is our rear guard.

This photo was taken in February at the Punch Out Ultra, sponsored by the Suffer Up Podcast. Our team was made up of members of a men’s small group that meets each week for exercise, Bible study, and prayer.

They are the first Muster Seeds.

Click below for information on planting your own Muster Seed group.

Follow our friends at the Suffer Up Podcast, whose mission is to encourage and lead others to suffer with a purpose. They strive to help others level up in life with an emphasis on spiritual, mental and physical wellbeing.

The Parable of the Unforgiving Servant in Matthew 18 epitomizes why forgiven people should be forgiving people.

As Jesus teaches Peter and his disciples how imperative it is for believers to forgive those who sin against them, he underscores his point by comparing the kingdom of heaven to a forgiving king and an unforgiving servant.

Forgiveness is the central point of the parable, but it also highlights the central elements of God’s character.

Through this parable, we see who God is – and who we are.

We are, by nature, a servant with an unpayable debt. He is the King who cancels it.

To understand this better, it is worthwhile to read Matthew’s parable alongside Exodus 34:6.

This is one of the most repeated verses in the Bible where God reveals His own character, telling Moses that he is “a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.”

Matthew frequently draws on the Old Testament to tell the story of Jesus for a predominantly Jewish audience. He is the only Gospel writer to include this parable. While the connection is not explicit, the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant seems to echo three of God’s covenant attributes revealed in Exodus 34:6—patience, compassion, and mercy.

It's important to see the King's character because we can't become what we can't define. The path to forgiveness begins by looking at the character of the King who forgives us of a debt we could never pay.

1. Patience

“So the servant fell on his knees, imploring him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’” — Matthew 18:26

The servant in Matthew 18 first pleads for patience from the king for a ten-thousand-talent debt he owed. This represents an insurmountable debt equal to billions of today’s dollars.

Ironically, he did not need patience. No amount of time could allow him to gather this amount. Some commentators note that the disciples may have laughed as Jesus told this part of the parable because they realized how great the debt was. But the servant hits his knees and is in the right posture to receive grace. This is a picture of us as sinners. We can’t pay the debt, and at first we may try to manage it with our own works, until we realize the only thing that actually works is God’s mercy.

The Greek word used for patience is makrothumeó, combining makros (long) and thumos (temper or passion). It is the exact word used in the Greek translation of the Old Testament (Septuagint or LXX) for the description of God as patient or longsuffering in Exodus 34:6.

While the servant was granted patience from the king, moments later he fails to demonstrate the exact same self-control when confronted by a fellow servant who owed him far less. He chokes the man, demonstrating the consequences of acting contrary to the character of God.

Patience and self-control are fruits of the spirit (Galatians 5:22). Harboring unforgiveness stunts the growth of this fruit, or worse, replaces its sweetness with bitterness. Forgiveness does not let someone who hurt you off the hook. It unlocks our own freedom. This is especially true when we accept the forgiveness of the patient father who has granted us relief from a debt we could never settle.

2. Compassion

“And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt.” — Matthew 18:27

We then see how God’s patience moves to compassion. Pity may not be the best way to describe the word Matthew uses. This is not a matter of feeling sorry for someone. The Greek word for pity here is splagchnizomai, a word that literally meant compassion from the heart, lungs, liver, and kidneys, which were considered in the ancient world to be the seat of affection.

Although Matthew uses a different Greek word than the Septuagint of Exodus 34, he intensifies the picture. Instead of simply describing the king as compassionate, Matthew says he was moved in his very guts.

It’s the same word used when the father spots the prodigal son (Luke 15:20) and when the Good Samaritan aided the injured man on the Jericho Road (Luke 10:33). It is also frequently associated with Jesus’s compassion on those He healed.

This gut-wrenching compassion of God on helpless sinners is meant to create an overflow of compassion in us, resulting in our own mercy toward others. This is the mark we often miss by not mirroring the King's character.

3. Mercy

“And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?” — Matthew 18:33

When the servant does not forgive the smaller debt owed to him after the king forgave his insurmountable debt, this is the question he is faced with. It’s the question we are all faced with.

The parable now shifts from compassion to mercy. What's the difference? Mercy is compassion in action. It takes the overflow of compassion and puts it into practice.

Jesus demanded this type of active mercy. Twice, he told the Pharisees to study the Old Testament call for mercy:

“Go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” — Matthew 9:13 (similar to Matthew 12:7)

Jesus is quoting Hosea, a minor prophet whose story of an unfaithful marriage is a picture of God’s people’s unfaithfulness to His covenant. This connects mercy to the Hebrew word hesed, used in Hosea and nearly 250 other times in the Old Testament. Hesed was central to the Hebrew understanding of God’s character of steadfast love and is found in Exodus 34:6.

The Weight of the Kingdom

By tracing this line from Matthew back to Exodus, it helps us see the immensity of God’s unwavering character and the weight of our own sin. It shows how we must understand forgiveness vertically before we can extend it horizontally.

When we fail to show mercy, we are not just being an unforgiving servant—we are failing to act in the character of the King in whose image we were created.

Jesus closes the parable by saying forgiveness must be in the heart. In order to feel gut-wrenching compassion, it must begin with a heart transformation that only He can offer. This is not moralistic wrestling with ourselves. It’s submission to the righteous, merciful king.

He pours out his patience, pity, and mercy on servants like us despite our inability to pay our debt.

That reality should be a gut-punch for us all.

Follow this link for a companion study guide and workout designed to help small groups gather, grow, and go—putting this week’s devotional into action.

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When I completed Navy “A-School”—the apprenticeship where sailors learn their rating—the Navy handed each of us a “dream sheet” to rank our preferred duty stations.

Everyone wanted to go to Hawaii — except me.

My fair complexion and red hair firmly categorize me as a “ginger,” and I believed Hawaii would require a massive personal investment in SPF 100 to protect my freckled skin.

I put down the geographic opposite on my dream sheet — rainy Seattle.

Guess where the Navy sent me?

Hawaii.

I’ve still never seen the Space Needle.

It turned out to be a blessing. I grew to love Hawaii. My wife and I were married there. But it was definitely not easy getting acclimated at first.

I moved there in 2012 and only had a TomTom GPS hanging off my car window by a suction cup. It was my only help navigating a maze of entirely unfamiliar island roads with names that were not easy to pronounce.

The TomTom sounded like it had the spiritual gift of tongues as it loudly commanded me to turn onto the “LEE-keh-LEE-keh” Highway, spelled Likelike, which I did not like like.

And my poor wife. Her southern drawl is just a touch less pronounced than Dolly Parton’s. She was devastated one afternoon because she struggled to order a Sprite at a local McDonalds. As she tried her absolute best to enunciate her desires for a lemon-lime soda—”SPRIIIITE”—the worker behind the counter remained utterly confused.

Eventually, we acclimated.

Better yet, we found true joy in the island culture. To this day, we actively seek out Hawaiian food. We love poke, short ribs, and double scoops of mac salad.

The PCS Mission

This is the reality of military moves.

Every year, roughly 400,000 service members get orders to PCS, which means Permanent Change of Station.

That means pack up and move somewhere new.

That means the spouse has to find a new job.

The kids leave behind friends, schools, and sports teams.

New grocery store.

New gym.

New church.

That last one often takes longer than it should, leaving families out of a worship service for an extended period. It's an important mission field for the church.

Finding a Church

We just completed our fourth PCS. Boxes are still stacked in the garage, but you can get one of the cars in there. Our walls are adorned with family pictures, and new pieces that my wife has lovingly found at thrift stores and in the Hobby Lobby clearance aisle.

Still, though, no church.

It’s harder than I thought.

Some days I feel like I’m lost looking for the Likelike again. We did find a good Hawaiian food spot, at least.

We don't want to be picky about a church. We see church as more of a warship than a cruise ship—and I've spent enough time on both to know the difference.

We want to serve the church, not just be served.

Of course, we want the best for our 8-year-old son.

We have met so many amazing people, and God’s place is before us. We have to be faithful in following His steps.

It is tempting to emotionally hibernate. Why invest deeply when another move is always around the corner? This is especially true when you just fractured relationships in your previous home. But that’s not what we are called to do.

As Oswald Chambers said in the book My Utmost for His Highest:

Never allow the thought — “I am of no use where I am”; because you certainly can be of no use where you are not.

God’s Instructions

The prophet Jeremiah has been a comfort to me during this challenging season, especially the instructions God gave him for the people facing the Babylonian exile.

I’m not comparing Norfolk to Babylon, and I realize the original context of this passage is far more harsh than a military PCS. But it is a reminder that God puts us in places for a purpose.

God tells the nation of Israel to make their home where He plants them, even in exile.

But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. — Jeremiah 29:7

God also told them to build houses, plant gardens, marry, raise families, and multiply.

In other words, plant roots.

Don’t spend all your energy worrying about when they’ll be pulled up again.

Instead, enrich the soil beneath your feet.

Every Christian lives on temporary orders. We are all “sojourners and exiles” (1 Peter 2:11).

Our citizenship is in heaven, but until our Commander calls us home, we are to seek the welfare of the place where He has stationed us.

That's what we are going to do here. We are going to keep seeking a church that will allow us to plant roots and serve the welfare of this city. And I'll try to be less impatient.

Besides, we've already found good mac salad.

Follow this link for a companion study guide and workout designed to help small groups gather, grow, and go—putting this week’s devotional into action.

Follow our friends at the Suffer Up Podcast, whose mission is to encourage and lead others to suffer with a purpose. They strive to help others level up in life with an emphasis on spiritual, mental and physical wellbeing.

“I think we missed something with this Nehemiah series.”

A friend called me with this blunt assessment a few hours before the sixth and final installment of a series through the Old Testament book of Nehemiah published here on Operation Muster Seed.

“We should have mentioned Ezra more,” he concluded.

Oof. Fair point.

Ezra is the book in the modern Bible that precedes Nehemiah. But they aren’t merely two books sitting next to each other. Together, they document different angles of the same restoration story, showing how God fulfilled His promise to bring His people home from exile caused by their idolatry and sin.

Ezra documents the return to Jerusalem while Nehemiah focuses on rebuilding the city wall.

In the Hebrew Bible, Ezra and Nehemiah were originally treated as a single work.

But this isn’t the only link in the chain.

From Ezra, you see God’s sovereignty weaving together a tapestry of redemption that also demonstrates how the Bible is a cohesive narrative rather than 66 standalone books.

Ezra serves as a vital intersection in the biblical story, with kings, prophets, priests, and everyday servants navigating precisely according to God’s plan.

One verse summarizes this well:

Notice whose decree is first and preeminent — God. Then consider the agents God uses throughout this story to carry out His divine decree:

1. Kings

Three Persian kings figure prominently in Ezra. Despite being pagan rulers, God uses them according to His own purpose.

Those anxious about the modern political climate should find comfort in this fact.

The book of Ezra opens with Cyrus authorizing the return to Jerusalem in his first year of reign. His decree resurfaces in Ezra 5 after opposition halts progress on rebuilding the temple. God is sovereign over all these circumstances, having “stirred up the spirit” of Cyrus at the very start of the book.

All of this happens according to a remarkably precise timeline. Cyrus’ decree lines up with Jeremiah’s prophecy that the Babylonian exile would end after 70 years (Jeremiah 29:10).

2. Prophets

Jeremiah is the first prophet mentioned in Ezra’s opening. Haggai and Zechariah are then introduced in chapter 5.

These prophets are instrumental in the Old Testament because God repeatedly used prophets to speak His Word directly to His people (Hebrews 1:1).

Modern readers can look at these three books and see how deeply they intertwine with the Ezra-Nehemiah narrative—and how they point forward to Jesus.

The Haggai-Zechariah duo offers a compelling one-two punch on the behind-the-scenes work of Jerusalem’s restoration. As Pastor David Guzik writes in his Enduring Word commentary:

“If all we had was Haggai to go by, we might conclude that all God was really interested in was the temple. Zechariah gives the rest of the story, and shows how God is interested in lives, not only buildings.”

Zechariah’s work contains some of the most prominent Messianic prophecies in the Old Testament, including Jesus’ triumphal entry on Palm Sunday and His side being pierced on the cross.

This demonstrates that while God was blessing the earthly reconstruction of Jerusalem, He always maintained His ultimate focus on establishing Christ’s eternal, heavenly kingdom.

3. Priests

The titular character of Ezra doesn’t arrive until chapter seven, but his role and reputation in leading the people in worship through God’s word is paramount.

The centrality of Scripture plays out directly in the narrative of Ezra.

We not only see the fulfillment of Jeremiah and Zechariah’s words, but we also see the practical role of scripture in Jerusalem’s restoration through the work of Ezra and those entrusted as priests.

Scripture is the glue holding the restoration together, and Ezra’s commitment to knowing, obeying, and teaching it was crucial in making it stick.

4. The People

God didn’t only use prophets, priests, and kings.

Ezra 2 and Nehemiah 7 contain nearly identical lists of the pioneers who returned from exile to reestablish Jerusalem.

One of the key leaders was Zerubbabel, mentioned as a leader of the exiles in Ezra, identified as governor of Judah in Haggai, addressed by the prophet Zechariah, and—most importantly—a descendant of King David who appears in Jesus’ genealogies in Matthew 1 and Luke 3.

Zerubbabel is declared to be like God’s signet ring (Haggai 2:23), reversing the judgment once pronounced on the kings of Judah (Jeremiah 22:24). The image points forward to Christ, who is the exact imprint of God’s nature (Hebrews 1:3).

Connecting the Pieces

All the links in the Ezra-Nehemiah narrative make it difficult to not trust God’s Word.

Jeremiah sets the timeline that leads to Ezra.

Ezra connects to Nehemiah.

Haggai and Zechariah speak into the rebuilding and ultimate restoration through Jesus.

Kings make decrees, but God is sovereign.

Priests teach God’s Word.

Ordinary people build.

And, through all of it, God accomplishes exactly what He said He would.

That’s the story of Ezra-Nehemiah.

And, really, that’s the story of Scripture.

God keeps His promises.

Thank goodness for friends who call and tell you to pick up your Bible and keep reading so you don’t miss these links.

The Keep Building Series

For twelve chapters, Nehemiah is a riveting account of how a humble servant led the physical and spiritual rebuilding of Jerusalem.

Then, in the final chapter, everything seems to fall apart.

It’s enough to make you pull your hair out. Literally.

Nehemiah got so frustrated with the people he started cursing people and pulling their hair out (13:25).

But, that's not the real ending of Nehemiah.

The real ending points us directly to Jesus.

Nehemiah shows us that great leaders can inspire people to build what once seemed impossible. But even the best human leaders—and the strongest physical walls—will eventually crumble.

The only thing that remains eternally rock solid is our salvation in Jesus Christ.

As we look at the final chapter of Nehemiah, we see the cracks form in the wall that point us to this Cornerstone.

The Problem

The people started out strong, pledging to follow the Law. But when Nehemiah had to return to Persia to serve King Artaxerxes, everything fell apart in his absence.

A priest named Eliashib actually gave Tobiah—a sworn enemy of God’s people—a room inside the temple courts. When Nehemiah returned, he tossed Tobiah’s furniture out into the street and cleaned house. He also discovered that the people had stopped tithing, neglected the ministers, and profaned the Sabbath.

Everything unraveled. The law had been broken.

But the law was never going to be enough to begin with. The law simply exposes the problem (sin) and prepares the way for the solution (Jesus). Bad news... good news.

So if rules don’t save us, should we just live however we want? Paul answers that clearly in Romans 6:

“Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! … Just as Christ was raised from the dead, we too might walk in newness of life.”

You don’t manage sin—you surrender it. Trying to white-knuckle it on your own willpower will just make you want to pull your hair out. Just ask Nehemiah.

The book of Nehemiah ends the exact same way it began—in prayer:

“Remember me, O my God, for good.” — Nehemiah 13:31

Nehemiah walks away with a human sense of failure. It was an alarming reality check.

The law cannot save us. Human effort will always fall short. But that doesn’t mean we stop working or stop believing. It means we work from grace, not for it.

Keep building.

Keep praying.

Keep your eyes firmly fixed on the Cornerstone.

The Solution

Do you see Jesus in the story of Nehemiah?

Pastor J.D. Greear offers some beautiful, striking comparisons:

• Nehemiah was a servant who left a luxurious palace for dangerous, exhausting construction work. Jesus is the Son who left the ultimate heavenly palace and entered a broken world where a cross awaited Him.

• Nehemiah was cupbearer to the king—he tasted the wine to ensure it wasn’t poisoned. Jesus intentionally drank the poisoned cup—the full wrath of God for our sin.

• Nehemiah prayed and wept for his people, but he was just one sinner among many. Jesus also prayed and wept, but as the perfect, sinless substitute who would die in our place.

The name Nehemiah means “the Lord comforts.” Yet, Nehemiah’s story doesn’t end with comfort. It ends with tension, frustration, and unfinished work.

Jesus is our true Comforter. His sacrifice on the cross fully paid our debt, and His final words were: “It is finished.”

Your Final Brick:

1. Write: Write the word CORNERSTONE in bold letters. Make that the center of your prayer wall.

Leave a comment below: Over the last six weeks, which “brick” or lesson from Nehemiah’s life has challenged you the most?

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

We often assume newer means better. Innovation has its place, but sometimes the wisest path is to follow a pattern that has already been proven.

I once heard a pastor remark that he arrived at church that morning in a vehicle designed, engineered, and tested by someone else. There was no need for him to reinvent the wheel, or any other part of the car.

We can make the same mistake in ministry. We're tempted to reinvent everything so we can put our own brand on it rather than strengthening or partnering with ministries that are already faithfully bearing fruit. Our desire for ownership must never outweigh our desire for the gospel.

Nehemiah created a solid model at the very beginning of this book:

Before ever setting the first brick in place, Nehemiah felt deep conviction, followed by a sincere prayer of confession. Only then did he form a plan to construct the walls.

This same pattern is how Jerusalem would again be filled with the people of God—a body of believers dedicated to worshiping Him.

Conviction

To begin this process, the people of Israel “gathered as one man” by the Water Gate (8:1).

Ezra returns to open the Book of the Law—what we would recognize today as the first five books of the Bible—and reads it aloud from early morning until midday.

(Ezra is the subject of the book just before Nehemiah, and the two accounts are narratively linked.)

Ezra reads for about six hours.

Some of us start fidgeting in the pew if the pastor goes past 35 minutes. But these people were deeply convicted by God's word.

The walls had been restored. The city was coming back to life. The people sought the Lord in gratitude and reverence. They shouted “Amen.” They lifted their hands in praise. They bowed their faces to the ground in worship (v. 6).

This was not an individual effort. This was corporate worship. Just like the people had a mind to work (4:6), they had a collective mind to worship “as one” (8:1).

Notice in Nehemiah 8:7–8 that specific men were appointed to help the people understand the Word of God.

Find a Bible-believing church that helps you understand the Word of God. Seek conviction. Seek community. These steps must always come before construction.

Confession

The people also relied on corporate prayer.

Nehemiah 9:5–38 is one of the longest prayers in the Bible.

The Levites lead a prayer of nearly 1,200 words that begins with praise to God “from everlasting to everlasting” (9:5). The prayer walks entirely through Israel’s history—from God’s promise to Abraham, to deliverance through the Red Sea, to rebellion in the wilderness, and finally to their present moment.

The prayer ends with a covenant with God—a renewed commitment to obedience.

This is no different from how Nehemiah began in chapter one, confessing the sins of his nation, his family, and himself. Prayer was the cement in the wall he built from the beginning.

Can you remember how God has delivered you, just as Israel remembered His goodness in the midst of their rebellion? Are you ready to dedicate your life to obedience?

It is a commitment we cannot perfectly keep. We remain sinful humans. But when you acknowledge your sin and recognize that it can only be covered by the redeeming work of Christ on the cross, that prayer of salvation is one God will always meet with grace.

Construction

Finally, the people dedicate the rebuilt wall.

They establish community structures and appoint leaders and priests. They institute a system of giving—a tithe—to support the worship and the work of God among His people.

Christians are called to be cheerful givers. How can we expect to build godly churches if we are unwilling to give our time, talent, and treasure? Money can be a sensitive subject for many believers, but generosity is absolutely essential.

Still, none of these human systems ultimately hold. You will see that next week as we conclude our study in Nehemiah chapter 13.

So what is the point? The point is that Nehemiah points beyond Nehemiah. Walls crumble. But Jesus is the Cornerstone that will not. As Paul writes:

“For what the law could not do in that it was weak through the flesh, God did by sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh.” — Romans 8:3

We cannot build ourselves a stairway to heaven. We must recognize our need for the Savior.

That recognition begins with conviction, moves to confession, and leads to the construction of strong churches and communities that help others follow the same path.

Build Your Prayer Wall

Jerusalem’s walls were built to protect a community of worship, and a healthy community requires all of us to pitch in. This week, we are creating a Church Brick. Write on a 3x5 card a prayer for your local church and pastors.

Ask yourself: How can I help strengthen my local church body?

“When you start shining a light, expect bugs.”

This is a phrase I heard my pastor say, and it hit home. It seems anytime you get on mission for God, opposition swarms.

A great biblical case study on how to face this opposition is Nehemiah. He led an effort to rebuild the Jerusalem wall in just 52 days after it lay in ruins for over a century. He accomplished this while facing at least seven direct attempts to stop the work (2:19; 4:1–3; 4:7–23; 6:1–4; 6:5–9; 6:10–14; 6:17–19).

Nehemiah’s opposition begins at the end of Chapter 2 with the introduction of Sanballat and Tobiah—detractors who mocked, jeered, and tried to derail the project (2:19).

While our spiritual enemy is not flesh and blood (Ephesians 6:12), Nehemiah’s strategy in handling these two detractors is another blueprint to build from.

Nehemiah focused on the work God called him to do, and he stayed on the wall no matter the challenge. He refused to let the pests dim his light.

Nehemiah did what he always did — he prayed.

“Hear, O our God, for we are despised. Turn back their taunt on their own heads…” — Nehemiah 4:4

This is an imprecatory prayer—asking God to bring divine justice on an enemy. This occurs often in the Psalms, such as Psalm 58:6, which says: “Break their teeth in their mouth, O God.”

How do we resolve these prayers with Jesus’s later direction in Matthew 5:44 to “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you?”

Responding to imprecatory prayers in scripture is a debated theological topic. Some say the imprecatory prayers are part of a bygone era, while others say they still offer a window to give God our deepest laments.

Rather than ignoring challenging sections of scripture, we should tackle the tension head-on and seek guidance from the Holy Spirit.

As A.W. Tozer says, “I don’t want the world to define God for me. I want the Holy Spirit to reveal God to me.”

Nehemiah shows repeatedly the power of unsanitized prayer. He trusts in God’s divine nature rather than attempting to take justice in his own hands. Nehemiah embodies what the prophet Joel later described as rending your heart (Joel 2:13) — sincerely wringing every drop of emotion out to God.

Yes, we should pray for our enemies. But sometimes that’s a struggle. God is not surprised by our emotions. He calls us to cast our cares to him — fully letting go (Psalm 55:22, 1 Peter 5:7). Perhaps our imprecatory pleas, surrendered to the Holy Spirit, become prayers for the very enemies we once wanted God to judge.

One thing about Nehemiah, he never prays and stops, either. He epitomizes what James would later describe as a doer, not just a hearer (James 1:22).

Another common theme in Nehemiah is his talent as a team builder. He built a team with “a mind to work”—people who trusted the resolve he demonstrated through his faith (Nehemiah 4:6).

Nehemiah equipped and organized his team and trusted their resolve.

While half built, the other half stood watch (4:16). They also kept swords on their belts (4:18). They knew the danger, but trusted the vision. They had each other’s backs.

Above all, Nehemiah and the workers wouldn’t budge.

Sanballat and Tobiah waged a misinformation campaign designed to distract Nehemiah. Four times they invited Nehemiah off the wall, each time with traps waiting. They even spread a story that Nehemiah planned to crown himself king.

Each time, Nehemiah refused:

“I am doing a great work and I cannot come down. Why should the work stop while I leave it and come down to you?” — Nehemiah 6:3

Our culture is a misinformation battlefield with social media algorithms, biased news, and outrage culture trying to take us off the wall.

We can’t let those pests dim our gospel light.

I’ve nearly shuttered this page a few times because of the doubts that creep into my mind of whether it is effective. That is a misinformation campaign by the enemy to stop me from building.

One thing that keeps me on the wall is the band of brothers God has given me. We meet weekly to exercise, study and share burdens. We have built trust — which builds resilience.

Resilience is key.

Pastor J.D. Greear compares Nehemiah’s response to the vaunted football statistic known as YAC—Yards After Contact. How far you can move the ball after taking a hit is telling – because contact is coming.

“Persistence in the face of opposition might be the most important skill to master if you’re going to succeed in the life God is calling you to,” Greear said.

Christians need to build their YAC.

Expect contact. Expect spiritual warfare. Prepare for it.

You will get more yards after contact when you sincerely rend your heart to God. Pray for your enemies, or go to God with your sincerest laments.

Surround yourself with a team that has a mind to work. Build with believers who will have your back, and that you will have theirs. Move the ball – together.

Stay on the wall. Keep building.

Build Your Prayer Wall

This week, we are going to add a difficult, but vital, brick to our wall: The Enemy Brick.

Write on a 3x5 index card someone who has criticized you, opposed you, or represents “opposition” in your life. Pray for them. Keep building this wall with a team.

Muster Seeds

Each week of the Nehemiah study includes a companion Muster Seed—a one-hour discipleship guide featuring physical and spiritual training designed to move today’s lesson from the page into practice. Continue to the companion guide and begin building. This week, get in an ultimate frisbee or football game and discuss your YAC.

The Keep Building Series:

Dirty Jobs was one of the best shows ever made. Host Mike Rowe rolled up his sleeves alongside pig farmers, chimney sweeps, and boiler technicians to highlight the unseen impact of the blue collar labor force.

Nehemiah chapter 3 reads like an Old Testament episode of Dirty Jobs.

The chapter is a list of people and the specific sections of Jerusalem’s wall they repaired. It’s easy to skim past, assuming it’s just a directory of hard-to-pronounce ancient names. Some commentaries do not even cover this chapter.

But look closer.

Every gate, bolt, and stone cements a story of faithful, unglamorous obedience. Every hammer swing was a hymn of praise. It demonstrates what believers can do when they join together to build for God.

Throughout this single chapter, a specific phrase is repeated five times: the workers were tasked with setting doors, fastening bolts, and installing bars (3:3, 6, 13, 14, 15).

Let this be our blueprint for Nehemiah 3.

1. The Doors

In total, 38 men are named personally in this chapter, alongside dozens of others identified by their family, trade, or region.

The first workers mentioned are Eliashib the high priest and his brothers, who rebuilt the Sheep Gate (3:1). This was the gate used to bring animals into the city for temple sacrifices.

Eliashib and his crew had no way of knowing it at the time, but their construction project was framing a future miracle. In John 5, Jesus heals a man by the pool of Bethesda—located right beside the Sheep Gate (John 5:2).

This shows that our mundane, routine, daily work is often building the framework where someone else will encounter Christ. You rarely see how your quiet acts of daily faithfulness are preparing the ground for someone else’s future encounter with Jesus—the One who ultimately called Himself “the gate” to salvation (John 10:9).

There is a warning woven into Eliashib’s story, too. Fast forward to Nehemiah 13, and this same high priest unlocks the doors for the same enemy that was meant to be kept out. It’s a reminder that we must, above all else, guard the door of our heart against sin and compromise (Proverbs 4:23).

2. The Bolts

Have you ever built a piece of IKEA furniture, made it all the way to the final step, and realized you had two or three bolts left over?

You look at the illustrated manual. You look at the random bolts sitting in your palm. Then, you make an executive decision: “Eh, those probably weren’t all that important anyway.”

That is a bold strategy. Three days later, your brand-new bookshelf looks like the Tower of Pisa, and you’re no longer confident you can put Nana’s urn on the top shelf.

Every single bolt matters.

Nehemiah 3 repeats over and over that the workers stood shoulder-to-shoulder, locked in mutual effort. One of the men listed in Nehemiah 3 is highlighted as a perfumer (v. 8). A perfumer is not exactly a rugged brick mason. Yet there he is, mixing mortar with hands that usually mix essential oils.

God does not call the qualified. He qualifies the called.

And don’t forget about Malchijah, whose name appears in Holy Scripture for repairing the Dung Gate—the gate used to take out trash. Malchijah was the ruler of an entire district, yet he was on the wall doing work ready-made for Dirty Jobs. No one is too good to get their hands dirty for God-honoring work.

3. The Bars

The third component of the build is the bars used to lock the gates securely. In the original Hebrew text, the word used over and over again to describe these repairs is chazaq. It means to strengthen, make firm, fortify, or encourage. It appears 35 times in Nehemiah 3.

This is the exact same word at the heart of God’s famous charge to Joshua generations earlier:

“Be strong (chazaq) and courageous.” — Joshua 1:9

That phrase was the battle cry that strengthened Joshua as he led the nation of Israel into the Promised Land and when the walls of Jericho crumbled. Now, in Nehemiah, it is the exact same word used to build a wall up.

The same God who tears down the walls of our past is the One who empowers us to rebuild for the future.

Maybe you need to tear down the walls of sin keeping you out of obedience. Maybe you need to build walls and boundaries to fortify your faith.

Either way, the ultimate source of chazaq—your strength, courage, and repair—is Jesus.

Open the door to Him.

Work for His glory.

Fortify your life on His foundation.

Your Week 3 Brick:

Grab a new 3x5 index card. This week, we are focusing on blue collar theology —the hidden, unglamorous, or routine parts of your life.

• Write: Identify one “mundane” area of your life (your daily commute, washing the dishes, managing a spreadsheet, parenting in the chaotic after-school hours). Write down a prayer asking God to turn that specific routine into a framework for a miracle. How can you use those moments to glorify God?

• Post: Stack it with your bricks from Weeks 1 and 2.

• Encourage: Remember, you aren’t building alone. Check in on the friends you invited to build with you in Week 1.

Leave a comment below: What is one “unglamorous” or routine part of your week that you want to dedicate to God today? Let’s encourage each other in the comments.

Casual conversations with coworkers are a welcome break from the 9-to-5 grind. We rarely think much about them.

One minute, you’re talking about the latest highlight on ESPN. The next, someone points out that the kid from Silver Spoons grew up to launder money in Ozark—and suddenly you’re confronted with the fact that you’re old enough to get both references.

But hidden inside those conversations is a goldmine of opportunity. This may be your greatest gospel mission field.

You don’t need a blue checkmark on social media to be an “influencer.” We are all influencers. The real question is: How do we maximize that influence for God?

Christopher J. H. Wright offers this perspective:

“We often ask, ‘Where does God fit into the story of my life?’ when the real question is, ‘Where does my little life fit into the great story of God’s mission?’”

Influence rarely starts with a massive platform. It starts with proximity.

Nehemiah understood this. He used his proximity to power in the Persian palace for God. Nehemiah chapter 1 ends with a simple statement:

“Now I was cupbearer to the king.”

Proximity Is Power

Nehemiah wasn’t a priest, prophet, or power broker. He never gets mentioned in the New Testament. He was a servant. His job was to make sure the king did not get poisoned. This was neither glamorous nor safe.

But God did not move him to a higher status. He used Nehemiah right where he was, surrounded not just by the king, but the entire royal family and court.

Nehemiah 2:6 notes the queen was seated right beside the king. This could be an echo of Esther, another unlikely servant used by God in a similar way.

Most of us don’t have direct access to a royal court. But all of us have access to people.

We often expect pastors and church staff to carry the entire weight of evangelism, but you have everyday access to people they will never meet: a neighbor, a coach, your gym partner, or the trivia whiz with Jason Bateman facts.

We go to church to be equipped (Ephesians 4:12–16), and then we put that training to work out in our circles of proximity.

Consult the King

To be fair, talking about your faith can be intimidating. You don’t want to beat people over the head with a Bible and send them running in the opposite direction.

Nehemiah was intimidated, too. The heavy burden he carried for Jerusalem left him visibly distressed, and scripture notes he had never appeared sad before the king (Nehemiah 2:1).

When the person in charge of making sure your wine isn’t poisoned looks miserable, you tend to take notice. This sets up a pivotal moment:

The king said to me, “What is it you want?” Then I prayed to the God of heaven, and I answered the king. — Nehemiah 2:4–5

Notice the sequence:

Question.

Pause.

Prayer.

Answer.

Before Nehemiah spoke to the earthly king, he prayed to the King of Kings. If you are afraid to use your influence, follow this blueprint: consult the King first.

Expanding the Ripple

The king’s question is also how faith often comes up in these situations. People will start noticing something different in your demeanor. You may casually mention an engagement at church. Suddenly your gospel influence grows.

Nehemiah didn’t just ask for permission to leave his position in the palace. He leveraged his relationship to ask for official letters from the king guaranteeing safe passage and resources for the rebuild.

“And the king granted me what I asked, for the good hand of my God was upon me.” — Nehemiah 2:8

Networking might not be listed among the spiritual gifts, but relationships are powerful tools in God’s hands.

Circles of influence ripple outward like a stone tossed into a pond. Every conversation is a pebble. Every act of kindness is a ripple. A single gospel conversation has the potential to travel much farther than your eyes can see.

You have to be willing to toss the rock in the water, though, if you want to make a splash.

Build Your Prayer Wall

This week, we are adding a visual tool to our Prayer Bricks to help map out our proximity.

On a blank sheet of paper, sketch out these concentric circles, starting with “Self” in the center.

• Circle 1 (Closest): Write the names of your 3-4 closest friends. (If you can’t name three, that’s your cue to plug into a local church small group).

• Circle 2: Your immediate family, everyday coworkers, and close inner circle.

• Circle 3: Acquaintances you see regularly but don’t know deeply—your neighbors, your barber, parents at your kid’s sports games.

• Circle 4 (Outer Rim): People you encounter often but barely know—the regular barista, your favorite waiter, the gym receptionist, the grocery cashier.

This is your unique map of influence.

Your Week 2 Brick:

Grab your next index card. Look at your outermost circle and pick one name or description (e.g., “The morning barista”).

Write their name on your new prayer brick and stack it on your wall. Pray for them every single day this week. Ask God for a natural opportunity to move them just one circle closer.

Then, keep your eyes open for the ripples of influence in your life.

Leave a comment below: Who is one person in your “outer circle” that you encounter all the time? You don’t have to share their full name, but let’s commit to praying for our outer circles together this week.

How’s that New Year’s resolution going?

Yes, it’s July, not January.

For some of us, those January goals have faded into a distant memory. Life happened. Priorities shifted. The momentum we started with slowly disappeared. The beach body we planned isn’t quite the one soaking up the summer sun.

For others, you’re still crushing it. You’re still in the gym. Your Bible-in-a-year plan has made it past Leviticus, and you can’t believe how much you love Psalms. You’re seeing the fruit of consistency.

Either way, we’re all standing at the same place—halftime.

Believe it or not, 2026 is half over.

Halftime isn’t about dwelling on what didn’t happen in the first half. It’s about making adjustments and charting a course to the fourth quarter.

This is the time to finish strong.

This is the time to keep building.

Keep Building is a new six-week study designed to help us do exactly that.

We’re picking up where we left off in January, using the book of Nehemiah as a structural guide for building life change that actually lasts. That isn't found in Nehemiah. It's found in the Cornerstone it points toward.

Over the next six weeks, we’ll see how Nehemiah teaches us to pray, lead, work, persevere, and ultimately build on that true Cornerstone. It all begins with Nehemiah’s prayer-saturated blueprint:

Nehemiah was an exile serving in the Persian palace when he learned that Jerusalem’s walls still lay in ruins. The news crushed him. Yet through a pattern rooted in prayer and faithful obedience, God used him to rebuild those walls in just fifty-two days—completely reshaping what had been broken for more than a century.

Here are the first three bricks.

Brick 1: CONVICTION

Nehemiah’s response to the news of Jerusalem’s crumbling state says everything about his heart:

“As soon as I heard these words, I sat down and wept and mourned for days, and I continued fasting and praying...” — Nehemiah 1:4

And he meant days.

Nehemiah first heard the bad news in the month of Chislev. Chapter 2 opens four months later in Nisan—the first month of the Hebrew calendar. That means Nehemiah’s “New Year resolution” started long before the new year actually arrived. He sat with the weight of it for a third of a year.

The great preacher Charles Spurgeon once noted: “He never had it off his mind for nearly four months. Day and night Jerusalem seemed written on his heart, as if the name were painted on his eyeballs.”

Do you have that level of conviction? Is there a spiritual burden God won’t let you shake?

Before God rebuilds a wall through us, He usually breaks our heart for what is broken in us. If you don’t feel that burden yet, don’t quit. Pray for it.

Brick 2: CONFESSION

Prayer is the cement of any project God calls you to build. It has to be your steering wheel, not your spare tire.

Before Nehemiah ever picked up a stone, he got on his knees. As Pastor John Piper famously put it: “Prayer is a walkie-talkie for warfare, not a domestic intercom for increasing our conveniences.”

Nehemiah understood that the primary problem wasn’t broken walls; it was broken people. Israel’s rebellion had brought the walls down, and rebuilding required repentance.

Beginning in verse 5, Nehemiah praises God, pleads for His attention, and then confesses with brutal honesty:

“We have acted very corruptly against you...” — Nehemiah 1:7

He confesses his own sin, his family’s sin, and his nation’s sin. He doesn’t shift blame.

For us, confession isn’t merely admitting guilt—it’s the gateway to embracing God’s grace. If you want to build something for the Kingdom of God, begin with earnest, clearing-the-air prayer. Identify why your spiritual walls crumbled in the first place before you try to stack new bricks.

Brick 3: CONSTRUCTION

Nehemiah ends his prayer by asking God for the strength to do the work—not for the work to be done for him.

“Give success to your servant today, and grant him mercy...” — Nehemiah 1:11

Grace alone saves us. But as Ephesians 2:10 reminds us, we are also His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works.

My friend Pastor Jimmy Gilford of Multiply Church says it well: “If you want to see something you’ve never seen, be ready to do something you’ve never done.”

So here is the question for your half-year reset: What will you do differently to honor God?

Just because the calendar is half over doesn’t mean you can’t start building today. If God has called you to change, don’t just pray for a finished wall.

Pick up a brick.

Build Your Prayer Wall

Throughout this series, we will build a wall of prayer.

Grab a pack of 3x5 index cards and do the following:

• Write: Record the specific convictions, prayers, or half-resolutions you want to focus on.

• Post: Place them where you will see them every day—your bathroom mirror, refrigerator, or car dashboard.

• Gather: Better yet, text 3 or 4 friends, share this post, and combine your prayer bricks to hold each other accountable.

We’ll add new cards each week throughout this 6-part study.

Leave a comment below: What is one area or “wall” in your life where you feel conviction to start rebuilding? Let’s pray for each other in the comments.

When you think of worship music in the Bible, you probably think of David’s prolific Psalms.

But Moses may have written the most overlooked worship album in Scripture.

Four songs. Four moments. One story of redemption stretching from the Red Sea to Sea of Glass. Endless reasons to praise an Almighty God.

1. Exodus 15 — The Song of Salvation

Immediately after crossing the Red Sea, Moses records the very first song in the Bible.

The Red Sea is a beautiful, physical picture of salvation. God supernaturally opened a path for His people to escape slavery, just as He has provided a path through Jesus for us to escape the bondage of sin.

Is there a greater reason to worship? Our God is a warrior—”glorious in power” (15:6), “majestic in holiness” (15:11), and the One who “will reign forever and ever.”

This song is a powerful expression of worship. In verse 21, Miriam grabs a tambourine and leads the camp in joyful dancing, repeating the opening chorus:

“Sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider he has thrown into the sea.” — Exodus 15:21

2. Deuteronomy 32 — The Song of Warning

The second song takes a darker, more somber tone. Facing his own imminent death, Moses warns Israel not to repeat the rebellion that disqualified an entire generation from entering the Promised Land.

He speaks plainly of corruption, a “crooked and twisted generation” (32:5), and a people who forgot the Rock of their salvation.

This isn’t a diss track—it’s a dire warning. Moses explains exactly why this heavy song had to be written down and memorized:

“Take to heart all the words by which I am warning you today, that you may command them to your children...” — Deuteronomy 32:46

It might not sound like a bedtime lullaby, but given the stakes, maybe it should be.

3. Psalm 90 — The Song of Wisdom

Psalm 90 is the only Psalm written by Moses, and it perfectly reflects Israel’s wilderness wandering.

Here, Moses prays for God to “satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love” (90:14). He has seen the provision of manna, and he knows from decades of experience that only God can satisfy a wandering heart—not the idols that continually distracted his people.

He adds a sense of urgency with a famous reminder to “number our days.”

Life is brief. We may get 70 or 80 years, Moses says, but they are “soon gone, and we fly away” (90:10)—words that echo themes later celebrated in hymns such as “I’ll Fly Away.”

Theologian James Montgomery Boice called this passage “probably the greatest passage in the Bible contrasting the grandeur of God with man’s frailty.”

4. Revelation 15 — The Song of Victory

The final book of the Bible opens a window into eternity, where martyrs who overcame the enemy stand holding harps. What are they singing? “The song of Moses, the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb.”

“Great and amazing are your deeds, O Lord God the Almighty! Just and true are your ways, O King of the nations!” — Revelation 15:3–4

The song of Moses finds its fulfillment in the song of the Lamb. Together they tell one story of redemption—from Egypt to Calvary to the new creation. The old and new covenants join together in one unified chorus, proclaiming the same faithful God who rescues His people from beginning to end.

This ultimate hymn of victory is sung while standing on “a sea of glass mingled with fire,” a beautiful contrast to the Red Sea.

Think about the narrative arc: Moses began the Bible’s hymnal on the banks of the Red Sea with a song of rescue, and his words echo across eternity around a sea of glass at the final exodus.

It's a breathtaking reminder that the victory Jesus secured is final, absolute, and eternal—a victory that spans from beginning to end and is forever worthy of our praise.

Resources for Deeper Study

• Sermon: The Song of Moses by Gary Hamrick at Cornerstone Chapel. This message and its study guide are incredible resources for exploring the structural connections between Exodus, Deuteronomy, and Revelation.

• Podcast: Shane & Shane’s Psalm 90 Devotional on The Daily Blade Podcast is a fantastic, musical companion for small group or personal reflection.

The Suffer Up Podcast releases a new episode each Monday on all platforms.

Oh well. A bad day fishing is better than a good day at work, right?

I wish I could say I wasn’t frustrated. I prayed while standing waist-deep in the river for a rainbow trout.

My son was frustrated, too.

He said, “Dad, is this what it was like in 1995 before Wi-Fi?”

Yes, son. Those were the dark ages.

The empty nets made me think about another fisherman who had a terrible day on the water.

The morning we left, I found myself drawn to Peter’s calling in my Bible. It was the perfect passage to read over a cup of coffee, looking out at the same rushing water we had just spent time fishing.

The apostle Peter had a bad day fishing—and a bad day at work—when he met Jesus.

He told Jesus, “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing” (Luke 5:5).

The text doesn’t explicitly say Peter was frustrated, but it’s hard to imagine otherwise. He and his partners had worked through the night and come up empty. Fishing was their livelihood—not a hobby.

As they stood on the shore cleaning their nets, Jesus arrived with a crowd eager to hear Him teach.

Then Jesus told Peter to put the boat back out and let down the nets once more.

Peter obeyed.

“And when they had done this, they enclosed a large number of fish, and their nets were breaking” (Luke 5:6).

In an instant, Peter had everything he had been working for.

The fish were so plentiful they nearly sank the boats.

But Peter didn’t want it anymore.

“And when they had brought their boats to land, they left everything and followed Him” (Luke 5:11).

The fish hadn’t become less valuable.

Jesus had become more valuable.

Peter’s perspective on treasure changed from temporal to eternal.

This is opposite of what is commonly called “the prosperity gospel.”

The prosperity gospel says that if you give to Jesus then He will help you get your treasure. If I give, go to church, and do certain things, I will get something in return. This is a dangerously false teaching. It’s not really a gospel at all (Galatians 1:6-7).

But there is a true prosperity gospel.

Look no further than Jeremiah 29:11, one of the most quoted verses in all of the Bible:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Yes, God wants to prosper us. But this does not match the world’s definition of prosperity.

Many forget Jeremiah’s letter was written to the nation of Israel as it faced exile to Babylon. This was far worse than a bad day fishing. This was a 70-year exile to a brutal, harsh foreign land. Yet God had plans to prosper His people through this trial.

Prosperity is not material. It may even come in pain, in exile, or in empty nets.

Peter discovered this when he realized that Jesus is the treasure.

He saw the prosperity of the gospel as transformational, not transactional.

God may give you the thing you’ve been chasing. He may not. But when you truly encounter Christ, you discover that His presence is greater than His gifts.

We often focus on what we must give up to follow Christ. Peter left nets, boats, fish, and everything else behind. Yet compared to knowing Jesus, it wasn’t really a sacrifice at all.

As Pastor Joby Martin says, “It’s like giving up thirst for a cold drink of water.”

What are you toiling for?

Maybe God will give you that thing—and more. Maybe He won’t.

But whatever He gives or withholds, the greatest gift is Himself.

I didn’t catch a rainbow trout this weekend.

But I spent time with my wife and son. I stood in a mountain river—with no Wi-Fi. I witnessed God’s creation. I was reminded of His word.

That’s a better catch than any fish I could have reeled from the water.

Peter’s prosperity wasn’t in a boat full of fish. It was a heart willing to leave them behind.

Thank you, God, for the true prosperity found in your love.

The Suffer Up Podcast is available with a new episode each Monday on all platforms.

Hurricane season is underway in the Atlantic.

Some people will head to a hardware store and stockpile water, batteries, and other provisions in preparation for a major storm.

Others will go to the liquor store and wait until they see Jim Cantore standing in their neighborhood.

The apostle Paul knew how to storm prep. He was keenly aware of how violent the sea could become. He survived at least three shipwrecks (2 Corinthians 11:25).

Acts 27 is one of those shipwrecks. It documents Paul’s respect for storms—and the crew he traveled with who did not.

Examine this passage and see how well stocked your spiritual storm kit is...or isn't.

Voices of Influence

It is noted that Paul would travel after “the Fast was already over” (Acts 27:9). This was basically hurricane season in the first-century Mediterranean.

Despite Paul being well-traveled and knowledgeable about these seas, no one was willing to listen to him as the storm swirled around this grain ship bound for Rome.

First, the pilot’s advice was taken over Paul’s, and they pressed forward. That may seem logical if you think of the ship’s pilot as a nautical expert. (Acts 27:9-11)

His motives, however, were likely anchored in the financial interest of getting the grain from Egypt to Rome at the end of the shipping season.

Who has your ear? Are you seeking wise counsel—or voices that align with your self-interest?

The Short Game

The next mistake was that the ship’s pilot wanted to attempt to travel from Fair Havens to Phoenix, a short 40-mile journey to a port with far greater comforts. (Acts 27:12)

They thought they could safely get just a little further.

This is how you lose the short game.

How often do we tell ourselves … It’s just a little farther. Just one more compromise. Just one more click. Just one more drink. Just 40 more miles into sin.

Confirmation Bias

Once out on the water, the crew thought they were safe and sound as a south wind blew gently (Acts 27:13).

Jesus actually used the south wind to illustrate how people are keen to interpret weather but unable to understand the signs He performed (Luke 12:56).

The ship’s crew in Acts 27 were seeking confirmation for their bad choice. The Bible says they “thought they had obtained their purpose.”

When we seek our own purpose rather than submit to God’s will, we often manufacture confirmation.

The Bible is too often taken out of context as a tool to build arguments. Chuck Swindoll says beware longhorn sermons: “A point here, a point there, and a lot of bull in-between.”

Where are you trying to justify sin in your life, rather than seeking justification through repentance?

The Anchor of Faith

The ship’s crew paid for their mistakes.

Just as Paul warned, the storm came, and they were “violently storm-tossed” (Acts 27:18).

They were starving, soaked, and losing hope when they finally turned to Paul.

While they were panicking, Paul was praying.

He reported that God intended for him to reach Rome, and that no one on the ship would be harmed as long as they followed his divinely inspired direction.

“So take heart, men, for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told.” — Acts 27:25

Paul’s storm kit was packed with faith.

The rest of the crew drifted with the winds.

Shipwrecks don’t always start in the storm.

They start in the decision to ignore the warnings.

The Suffer Up Podcast is available with a new episode each Monday on all platforms.

It’s well known in Navy tradition that you don’t wash the inside of a Chief Petty Officer’s coffee mug. Dark stains are a sign of a seasoned cup and a point of pride among the senior enlisted ranks.

We’ve developed a few traditions in our church’s Saturday morning men’s group too.

First, we exercise. Thirty minutes of physical training prepares us for thirty minutes of Bible study. And after every workout, there’s always a pot of coffee waiting.

One weekend I couldn’t be there, so I let a friend borrow my coffee urn so he could handle the weekly brew. When I got it back two weeks later, something terrible had happened.

I pumped the handle and hot coffee sprayed everywhere. Then it started leaking from the bottom.

What happened?

He washed the coffee pot.

To be fair, I always cleaned it. But my friend tried to disassemble this thing to get it in pristine condition. He accidentally damaged the liner inside the urn and rendered it useless.

Never wash a Chief’s coffee pot.

It wasn’t a big deal. We laughed about it and poked fun at each other, as guys do.

I decided to splurge on the replacement. I bought a massive, rugged Stanley coffee container that would increase our coffee capacity.

More coffee means more men reached.

We often offer coffee to people passing through the park during our workouts. Sometimes those conversations turn into opportunities to share the gospel.

The Stanley cost me $50.

The first time I brought it to the park, my friend felt a little guilty about breaking the old one. My teasing probably didn’t help. But I told him, “Think of how many people we can reach with the gospel through this $50 coffee pot.”

He smiled and replied, “You know, man, that $50 will probably come back to you one day. You’ll probably find it lying on the ground somewhere.”

We laughed and moved on.

A few months later, that same friend called me and said he wanted to get baptized, and he wanted me to do it.

It would be my first time baptizing someone—a major step in my calling to ministry.

We met at my neighborhood pool. Family and friends gathered around. Afterward, we swam, talked, and celebrated. One of the men there was a close friend who is not yet a believer. He was able to witness the baptism and experience Christian fellowship in a relaxed, joyful setting.

As we were leaving, that non-believing friend suddenly stopped and pointed at the ground.

“Hey, look at this.”

He bent down and picked up a $50 bill.

I almost fell over. Immediately, I thought about the conversation from months earlier.

I ran over to my newly baptized friend and showed him the money. We just stood there for a moment, absolutely amazed.

Not because of the cash. Because of God’s timing. Because a miracle passed through the hands of man who does not yet believe, but who I am praying for.

I took the $50 home and framed it alongside a race bib from an event sponsored by the Suffer Up Podcast—the podcast my baptized friend is part of. Looking back, that race was one of the first links in a chain of events that eventually led to his baptism. He took a leap of faith hosting the event, and it created a ripple effect of gospel impact.

Maybe stories like this are hard for you to believe.

Sometimes they’re hard for me to believe, too.

To be clear: I’m not saying God will put a $50 bill in your path if you buy a coffee pot and start a Bible study. This isn’t a prosperity gospel. That’s not the point.

The point is that God is doing so much more than we can see.

Maybe God is brewing up something in your life right now, and you just need to take the next step of faith.

Get in the pool.

Spend the $50.

Start the Bible study.

Invite the friend.

Join the group.

Have the conversation.

Take the step.

He does his best work with broken things.

Even coffee pots.

And old salty Navy Chiefs.

The Suffer Up Podcast releases a new episode each Monday on all platforms.