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.

A fighter jet’s greatest threat may not be enemy fire in a dogfight.

It may be something as small as a stray bolt left on the flight line.

Jet engines act like giant vacuums. One loose piece of hardware sucked into the intake can ground an aircraft before it ever reaches its target.

That is why the Navy conducts regular sweeps for FOD — Foreign Object Debris.

Sailors line up shoulder-to-shoulder sweeping the flight line for anything that could damage an engine or puncture a tire.

These little things can become big problems.

How many times do we let the small, stray pieces of debris keep us off mission?

Long before fighter jets, the prophet Jeremiah ran into his own version of this battle.

Commissioned to warn Judah of coming exile if they refused to repent, Jeremiah was hated for his calling. He was beaten, imprisoned, and tossed into a muddy pit.

God’s word is not always popular, but it is always true.

The burden wore on Jeremiah, whose plight earned him the name The Weeping Prophet. One of his laments appears in Jeremiah 12, where he pleads with God to understand why the wicked seem to thrive.

God does not directly answer Jeremiah’s complaint.

Instead, He tells him to prepare for harder battles ahead.

“If you have run with the footmen, and they have wearied you,

Then how can you contend with horses?

And if in the land of peace,

In which you trusted, they wearied you,

Then how will you do in the floodplain of the Jordan?

— Jeremiah 12:5 (NKJV)

The footmen were infantry in ancient armies consisting of farmers and tradesmen conscripted for seasonal campaigns. They were the first wave of battle — essentially the pawns.

Behind these footmen were the more formidable horse-mounted cavalry.

God’s point with this battlefield imagery was simple:

If smaller battles wear you out now, how will you endure larger ones later?

If you are swept off the board by the pawns, you lack the vision to compete with the knights and rooks.

If you get taken down by FOD, you will never get off the deck to the actual target.

This is a call for spiritual endurance that we all need — because we all face footmen.

Here is how we must fight the footmen to stay on target.

Look at Your Problems

Are your problems footmen, horses—or worse?

God also asks Jeremiah how he will fare in the floodplains of the Jordan — territory associated with lions.

Like Jeremiah, we often magnify our struggles.

Most of us are not losing battles to catastrophic collapse.

We are losing them to distraction, discouragement, comparison, bitterness, exhaustion, and compromise.

We see the apparent blessings of others and assume God has forgotten us.

This does not diminish footmen problems.

If anything, Jeremiah 12:5 promises their existence — in large numbers.

We can either expect opposition and prepare for it, or spend our lives shocked by its arrival.

We would also be wise to remember the victories God has already granted us.

You recreate what you celebrate.

Celebrate the battles that God has led you through to give you strength for the next wave of footmen.

Look at Your Defenses

This is where we need to learn the art of the FOD walk.

Standing shoulder to shoulder with other believers is a powerful spiritual discipline.

Isolation is deadly.

Footmen aren’t meant to be fought alone.

The best way to run with horses is to train alongside them.

Build endurance by surrounding yourself with spiritual thoroughbreds who push you, sharpen you, and hold you accountable.

Iron can’t sharpen iron without friction and sparks.

Look at God

Jeremiah’s story reminds us that God does not always remove the battle.

Sometimes He prepares us through it.

“God never calls us to contend with horsemen until He has trained us through the strain of contending with footmen.” — G. Campbell Morgan.

Some footmen may be spiritual warfare.

That means you are standing on ground the enemy wants to claim.

Many believers have testified that seasons of spiritual victory are often followed by intensified spiritual opposition.

Whether our footmen are trials permitted by God or attacks from the enemy, we can endure them knowing God is sovereign over both.

Small battles may be preparing us for larger ones ahead.

Don’t lose the battle to a loose bolt.

Fight the footmen — and stay on mission.

Mountain Mover

Make a list of your footmen. Where are you facing opposition?

Make a list of your victories. What battles has God already led you through?

Pray over both lists.

Ask God to strengthen you in your battles, and give Him praise for those already won.

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

Ask any veteran about the importance of the guidon banner.

It is the rallying point —a beacon elevated above the chaos of the battlefield.

It is the group identity — a symbol of pride and esprit de corps that links modern warfare with bygone eras of horse-mounted cavalry.

The U.S. Army Maneuver Center of Excellence puts it this way:

Spiritual warfare requires that same cohesion and trust.

And Christians have a banner elevated higher than all others.

We can trace that banner by marching through the Biblical narrative and hitting three key waypoints that reveal the standard we rally around, the identity we carry, and what guides us as followers of Christ.

Waypoint 1: Exodus 17:15 — Jehovah Nissi

In Exodus 17, Israel faces its first major battlefield test against the Amalekites.

Israel still has the dust of the Red Sea on their sandals. They are not a formidable force.

Joshua is introduced as the front-line leader. Moses climbs the high ground and raises his arms in intercession. Aaron and Hur stand beside him, holding him up when he grows weary.

But when the battle is over, they do not credit strategy, manpower, or military strength.

They give credit to God.

“And Moses built an altar and called the name of it, The LORD Is My Banner.” — Exodus 17:15

This becomes a covenant name for God: Jehovah Nissi — “The Lord Is My Banner.”

That word Nissi is important. More on that later.

The victory belonged to God. He went before them into battle.

If the story ended there, it would read like a storybook ending.

But that is not what happened.

The nation of Israel quickly drifted.

They forgot their victory.

They lowered their standard.

Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 10:11 that the stumbling of Israel serves as a reminder for us. The Bible is both a map and a mirror. Most of us can see ourselves in these setbacks.

I see it in my own story.

There was a time in my Navy career when my unit was charged with establishing a guidon. One morning while loading a van at 0400 to travel to a neighboring base, we forgot it.

No rallying point.

No identity.

We suffered that day for our disobedience and disrespect toward an important symbol of unit identity.

I have often forgotten my spiritual guidon, and suffered similarly.

Israel did the same thing.

They worshiped idols instead of the one true God who gave them victory.

They raised the banner of fear over faith when they should have marched into the land promised to them.

And they suffered for it.

Waypoint 2: Numbers 21 — The Banner of Salvation

Israel’s grumbling eventually became open rebellion against both God and Moses — treason of the highest order.

In response, God sent poisonous serpents into the camp. Many were bitten and dying. When the people cried out for mercy, God gave these instructions to Moses:

The Lord said to Moses, “Make a snake and put it up on a pole; anyone who is bitten can look at it and live.” So Moses made a bronze snake and put it up on a pole. Then when anyone was bitten by a snake and looked at the bronze snake, they lived. — Numbers 21:8-9

The Hebrew word used for that pole in Numbers 21:8–9 comes from the same word family as Nissi in Exodus 17.

This was another banner.

Salvation came from looking up at the elevated serpentine guidon — not climbing up out of the snakepit.

This is a picture of grace received through faith, not earned through human effort.

But the bronze serpent was only a shadow of something greater still.

A greater banner would be permanently established soon.

Waypoint 3: John 3 — The Final Banner

We find that banner in John 3, our final waypoint. Jesus tells Nicodemus:

Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up. — John 3:14

Jesus is Jehovah Nissi.

Jesus not only fulfilled Numbers 21, He also fulfilled Isaiah 11:10, which declared the Messiah would stand as a banner for the people and nations that would rally to Him.

The cross is the final banner of salvation that neutralizes the snakebite of sin. Jesus took that curse upon Himself — and crushed the serpent’s head at His resurrection.

And all who look to Him in faith will live.

This is our identity.

This is our rallying point.

Mountain Mover

Jesus said, “It is finished” on the cross. We are fighting a battle already won. But we are still fighting a battle nonetheless.

An enemy exists that wants to steal, kill, and destroy. One of his greatest tactics is making us forget our guidon.

We must rally around this ultimate truth:

God has never wavered. His unchanging character is the same from Exodus 17 to Numbers 21 to John 3 to today.

Salvation belongs to the Lord.

And He is still drawing people to Himself.

This week my eight-year-old son and I had a gospel conversation on the way to church. He took his little ballcap off in the backseat and quietly prayed to receive Jesus as his Lord and Savior.

This Wednesday, he publicly declared that faith through believer’s baptism at his school.

Salvation gave him a new identity.

And he came out of the water a flag bearer for Christ.

How do we rally more people around Jehovah Nissi?

That is our charge — to elevate the banner of Christ above all the world’s lies and noise.

I believe it starts the same place victory started in Exodus 17.

Men standing together locking shields of faith.

Men kneeling together in prayer.

Men holding each other up when arms grow weary.

We will rise to the standard we set.

And in the middle of every battle, the guidon of Christ still stands higher than the smoke and confusion around us.

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

I was recently tasked with an extensive study of 2 Chronicles, and I expected it to be as exciting as watching paint dry.

Let’s be honest—some parts of the Bible are harder to read than others.

But my dive into Chronicles turned into a treasure hunt—one that changed how I see one of the most famous passages in Scripture.

This happened as I was reading 2 Chronicles 28:9–15, where I discovered the sole appearance of an obscure prophet named Oded.

Oded was a Samaritan prophet in the northern kingdom of Israel during a conflict with the southern kingdom of Judah.

Israel took captive 200,000 of their relatives—women, sons, and daughters—and brought them north.

Oded stepped out in front of the warring party and demanded they show mercy or risk angering God.

Pastor Steven Cole recognized the magnitude of Oded’s courage. He said:

“Oded’s job was a bit like an M.P. single-handedly facing a barroom full of drunken sailors. These guys were high on the smell of victory. But he goes out and tells them to send their captives home.”

Remarkably, certain chiefs of Israel agreed with Oded. They took the captives and used the spoils to clothe them, give them sandals, provide food and water, and treat their wounds.

Then they placed them on donkeys, carried them to Jericho, and returned to Samaria.

Sound familiar?

It should.

These details closely mirror Jesus’s parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10.

Oded could be the original Good Samaritan.

Commentator Michael Wilcox points to Psalm 119:162 to underscore the golden nugget of Oded hidden in plain sight in 2 Chronicles:

One of the delights of reading Chronicles is the frequency with which one can say with the Psalmist, ‘I rejoice at thy word like one who finds great spoil.’ Often in our study of these books, we have found springing out from the page words which we remember well from hymns or sermons or liturgies, and we have said, ‘So that’s where they come from!’

Suddenly, I felt guilty for my dread of studying this Scripture and experienced renewed joy that every word of the Holy Bible is important (Matt. 5:18).

Wilcox agrees that Jesus may have drawn on the Oded account when responding to the lawyer who attempted to test Him in Luke 10. He said he “could not but have had it in mind when telling the parable of the man from Samaria who showed such practical loving care towards the man from Jericho.”

Imagine the legal scholar scrolling the Scriptures in his mind as Jesus told this parable strikingly close to Oded.

Wouldn’t that have forced a gut check about the very people he despised?

Suddenly, the parable comes to life.

Oded wasn’t just a voice in the story—he was a prophet of God. In the Old Testament, God spoke through His prophets. Now He has spoken through His Son, Jesus (Hebrews 1:1–2).

The lawyer in Luke 10 was getting both at the same time.

It was a reminder that God’s standard for compassion—and the courage to demand it—has always been the same.

Oded shows that compassion and truth are two sides of the same coin, and it takes courage to confront those who are attempting to test God.

As Billy Graham once said, “Courage is contagious. When a brave man takes a stand, the spines of others are often stiffened.”

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

I was sitting by this barn one day, looking out over the lake, when a man in a Navy veteran ball cap said something that really stuck with me.

When asked how long he owned the property, he said:

“I don’t own any of it. I’m just the steward.”

He’s the patriarch of the family that opens this little patch of paradise in Molino, Florida, to hundreds of men every month for a free steak dinner and a gospel message. It’s simply called The Men’s Barn Meeting.

Thousands have come to Christ at these gatherings over the last two decades.

His words drove me to consider what biblical stewardship looks like. I see it in 1 Peter 4:8–10:

“Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins.” — 1 Peter 4:8

The word Peter uses for earnestly carries the idea of stretching to the limit—like a runner straining for the finish or a rope pulled taut under pressure.

Honestly, it seems like a stretch every month watching volunteers somehow feed all the men who show up at the barn. But month after month, they do it.

This kind of earnestness is seen when the early church prayed fervently for Peter while he was imprisoned (Acts 12:5).

It also describes Jesus praying so passionately in the Garden of Gethsemane that His sweat was like drops of blood (Luke 22:44).

This is agape love—the sacrificial love of Christ.

The same love poured out for us is meant to be poured out through us. We love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19).

This love is the foundation of The Men’s Barn Meeting. These men earnestly stretch their financial resources and their time every month for the purpose of sharing God's love.

“Show hospitality to one another without grumbling.” — 1 Peter 4:9

“Christianity is the religion of the open hand, the open heart, and the open door.” — William Barclay

One way to demonstrate God’s love is through simple service and hospitality toward others.

I may never have a beautiful barn to open to others, but I can open my heart and serve.

Because if service is beneath me, leadership will always be beyond me.

“As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.” — 1 Peter 4:10

Grace is God’s free gift of salvation to all who have faith (Ephesians 2:8).

But grace is so much more. It is the multifaceted, varied expression of God’s favor and power.

It is manifold grace—like a manifold in an engine. When air flow is restricted, things start to sputter.

We are supposed to be conduits, not cul-de-sacs, of God’s amazing grace.

Believers are given gifts by the Holy Spirit to ensure that there is abundant grace for every good work (2 Corinthians 9:8).

Those good works absolutely include serving thousands of free meals where the main dish isn't really steak.

It's the Bread of Life.

The next Men’s Barn Meeting is this Thursday at 6:30 p.m.

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

On page 451 of my Bible, Elijah is the fearless, defiant conqueror of Mount Carmel— calling down fire from heaven and defeating 850 false prophets alongside the most wicked king in Israel’s history.

Two pages later, on 453 — he’s depressed, suicidal, and lying under a broom tree.

That whiplash has puzzled many.

One commentator noted that “expositors and preachers have had a field day exulting at the contrast” in Elijah’s highs and lows, and that it is “a portrait painted ‘warts and all.’”

Theologians may see a conundrum of character in Elijah’s story.

But one demographic will perfectly understand the prophet’s plight:

Veterans.

Elijah’s descent from mountaintop victory to desert despair will resonate with military members who have balanced the high stress of service with the sudden realities of the homefront.

God doesn’t rebuke Elijah, even though the prophet made mistakes.

God provided for him, sending an angel to feed the prophet.

He listened to Elijah’s lament.

He restored him physically, then spiritually, and then sent him on a new mission with renewed purpose.

The same God offers the same healing for warriors today.

The church must make this connection for military members, especially with the sobering statistic that 6,398 veterans died by suicide in 2023 (according to the Department of Veterans Affairs).

Elijah is a doorway for the church to openly discuss this painful topic and to stake a claim in the spiritual fight to save our veterans.

Elijah’s Story

“… He asked that he might die, saying, ‘It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.’” – 1 Kings 19:4

Elijah’s despair follows a dramatic victory over King Ahab and the false prophets in 1 Kings 18.

After this victory, he learns there is still a bounty on his head from Queen Jezebel. Elijah begins to question whether the work he has done even matters if opposition remains.

This is a common doubt.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell if the war is being won—or even what you’re fighting for.

Elijah runs.

Worse, he isolated himself.

This is how God restored him.

God Restores Physically

God twice sent angels to provide Elijah with hot food and water (1 Kings 19:5, 7). Elijah is told, “Arise and eat.” This strengthened him for his next 40-day journey to Mount Horeb.

Just as God provided manna during the Exodus, He continues to provide for His people. His mercies are new every day.

The invitation to a meal is still a powerful tool to draw someone out of isolation that may lead to suicidal ideation.

It opens a door, builds relational equity, and creates a pathway to offer the more important Bread of Life found in the Gospel.

Jesus did much of His ministry over meals.

He still has a seat open at His table.

We can help pull out a chair for veterans.

God Restores Spiritually

Once Elijah reached Mount Horeb, God began to restore him spiritually.

He started with a simple question:

“What are you doing here, Elijah?” — 1 Kings 19:9

God does not ask questions because He lacks information.

He is inviting Elijah to speak.

He is showing care.

He does not scold him.

He lets Elijah vent his fear, exhaustion, and frustration.

He allows Elijah to confront the anxiety that left him running and wishing to die.

Elijah’s response has been criticized as self-righteous because he claims to be the only man of God left.

But God listens and shows Elijah he is not alone.

God then speaks.

He draws Elijah out of the cave where he is resting.

Wind, fire, and earthquake pass by.

But God speaks in a still small voice—a whisper (1 Kings 19:12).

That same still small voice leads warriors back to their purpose today—if they can tune their hearts to the frequency of the God who loves, sustains, and restores.

But to hear a still small voice, you have to silence the noise of the world around you. This is where the church can help.

God Restores The Mission

God’s final act in restoring Elijah is sending him back on a mission.

He tells Elijah to anoint a new king over Israel, reveals that 7,000 have not bowed to Baal, and appoints Elisha as his successor.

Once Elijah is restored, it’s back to work.

This part is critical.

Veterans can feel like their mission has ended when they take off the uniform.

But the mission of God is alive and well.

Veterans are uniquely suited to re-engage as “good soldiers of Christ Jesus” (2 Timothy 2:3).

They understand sacrifice.

They understand commitment.

They understand how to move a mission forward.

Sometimes they just need someone who will offer a seat at the table.

Sometimes they just need someone to listen.

Sometimes we all just need help hearing the still small voice of God.

Mountain Mover

Three Ways Churches Can Better Connect with the Veteran Community

1. Start small groups for veterans.

Isolation fueled Elijah’s downward spiral, and isolation continues to wound many veterans today. Create spaces where veterans can gather. Be creative. Consider spaces outside the church walls. I began healing from post-deployment stress through F3 (Fitness, Fellowship & Faith), a men’s workout and leadership group not formally connected to any church. It became a stepping stone back into a deeper spiritual community.

2. Invite veterans to serve.

Many veterans feel they are disqualified from serving in the church. The veteran community can be rough around the edges — which actually makes them great disciples. Cast a vision of service as mission. Let them know God does not condemn them for their past, and neither does the church.

3. Partner with strong veteran organizations.

Support organizations dedicated to veteran care. There are several organizations, such as Mighty Oaks Foundation, that offer retreats for veterans. Another great organization is the Praetorian Project, which plants churches in military communities.

If you or someone you love is struggling:

The Veterans Crisis Line is available 24/7. You do not have to be enrolled in VA benefits to connect with caring, qualified responders.

Call 988 and press 1, text 838255, or chat at VeteransCrisisLine.net.

Read a testimony about the impact of veteran suicide on families from The Narrow Path Collective:

The Narrow Path Collective

When the Smartest Person I Knew Went Silent: A Brother’s Testimony After Veteran Suicide

Read more

7 months ago · 6 likes · 1 comment · Thomas M. Hamilton

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

A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.

Neither does it make a disciple.

This is what made the Sea of Galilee a perfect place for Jesus to refine His 12 closest followers.

The Sea of Galilee is a freshwater lake that sits 700 feet below sea level. Towering hills surround the harp-shaped lake, creating a topographic funnel perfect for churning up strong storms with little warning.

A significant amount of Jesus’s ministry occurs in the Galilee region, and the storm-prone sea served a vital role.

It is far more than a background.

It’s a proving ground.

Consider Matthew 14.

This account is most well-known for the miracle of Jesus walking on water.
But read the account with the stormy sea in mind, and watch for the word “wind.” Circle it in your Bible and trace the wind through the narrative.

The wind blows three times in this chapter across the waters of Galilee, and each time gives us a gust of application that should make us glad we serve a God who does not always promise smooth sailing.

Contrary Wind

The events occur just after Jesus feeds the 5,000—a miracle recorded in all four Gospels.

Afterward, Jesus went away to pray in isolation.

“Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds.” — Matthew 14:22

Two verses later, the disciples’ boat was being battered by the gusts of Galilee.

“… the wind was against them.” — Matthew 14:24

This means Jesus sent them into the challenging winds.

God may send storms to either discipline you or disciple you.

He disciplines the one He loves (Hebrews 12:6) and will use storms to put you back on course (see Jonah).

Or, the storm you face could be gradually shaping you. This is not the first storm recorded by Matthew. In Matthew 8, Jesus calms a storm and the men marveled. After this storm in Matthew 14, they proclaim Jesus as the Son of God (Matthew 14:33).

The choppy seas helped them see clearer.

Distracting Wind

Before this revelation occured, the disciples had to navigate the waves deep into the night. It was the fourth watch of the night — just before dawn — when Jesus miraculously walks on the water.

Peter calls out to Jesus and says that if commanded, he will come out onto the water with Him.

Jesus tells Peter to come, and the disciple who fished the same Galilee waters hundreds of times suddenly walked on its choppy surface.

But not for long.

“But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, ‘Lord, save me.’”

This is why the Bible reminds us to fix our eyes on Jesus (Hebrews 12:2).

Turning our attention to our circumstances often causes us to sink.

What is pulling your eyes off Jesus?

Are you more focused on the storms of life or the one who controls the winds and waves?

Ceasing Wind

“Jesus immediately reached out His hand and took hold of him, saying to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’” — Matthew 14:31

When they got in the boat, the wind ceased (14:32).

Peter is often criticized for his little faith.

But a little faith got him out of the boat.

And a little faith made him realize that when he began to sink, who he needed to cry out to save him.

Sometimes a little faith is all you need.

Peter’s prayer is worth repeating …

“Lord, save me.”

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

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” — 1 Peter 5:6–7

Peter made his living casting nets on the Sea of Galilee.

When he tells us to “cast our anxieties,” it’s tempting to hear it as the hook of a fisherman-turned-preacher.

But that’s not what Peter means.

The word he uses in this passage is not the same one that would describe casting nets for a haul of redbelly tilapia.

Instead, Peter uses a unique Greek word that means to throw, or to hurl.

This is not cast and reel back in.

This is cast—and let go.

The common Greek word for casting in Scripture is ballō. It appears hundreds of times, including when fishermen like Peter cast their nets (ex. Matt. 4:18).

Instead, Peter uses the word epiripto, which paints a much different picture.

It is a proactive call to action to fully transfer the weight and burdens of our cares onto God. One commentator describes it as “a vital spiritual rhythm of shifting weight from self to Savior.”

To do that, we have to first humble ourselves, which is really the point Peter is making.

Humility is an antidote to anxiety. We have to choose to humble ourselves to God.

It is the blade that slices through the line we are so often tempted to reel back in with our worries still on the hook.

That’s why Peter precedes the imperative to cast our cares with this command:

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God…” — 1 Peter 5:6 (cf. Prov. 3:34).

This verse is vitally connected to verse seven and the command to cast our cares. Verses 6–7 are actually one sentence in the original Greek, and the word casting ends in “-ing” because it is a participle that depends on the command to humble ourselves. An issue with the NIV translation is that it separates verses six and seven into two sentences.

You have to see the connection between humility and casting. Otherwise, you will be tangled in the net of your own anxiety.

Our worries are a form of pride.

Pride causes us to hold on.

Casting is only the act of throwing.

Humility is when we release our grip.

Another clue that the epiripto word choice is important is that it appears only one other time in the New Testament—Luke 19:35—when the disciples throw their cloaks onto a colt for Jesus to ride into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.

That moment becomes a physical act of humbly casting that illustrates the spiritual act Peter describes.

Palm Sunday is a beautiful picture of humility.

Jesus humbles Himself by riding into Jerusalem on a lowly animal, fulfilling the prophecy of Zechariah 9:9. He could have entered the city on a warhorse. That’s what the people assumed the Messiah brought — deliverance from Rome. That’s why they waved palm branches — a national symbol of Israel.

But Jesus did not just come to save one group from one oppressor. He came to save ALL PEOPLE from the ultimate oppression of sin. That is what Easter is all about — Jesus humbly taking our place on the cross and defeating death at His resurrection.

Another moment of humility came on Palm Sunday when the disciples literally gave the shirts off their backs, throwing their cloaks onto the colt to create a makeshift saddle for their Savior.

This stands in vivid contrast to another part of Peter’s passage where he advises us to “clothe” ourselves in humility (1 Peter 5:5).

Here, Peter uses another rare word that describes a servant tying on an apron. One lexicon explains that the picture is not merely putting on clothing but preparing for humble, hands-on service—the kind considered lowly in the Greco-Roman world.

It mirrors the posture of Jesus in John 13, when He wrapped a towel around His waist and washed the disciples’ feet in one of his final acts before his crucifixion.

Peter initially resisted having his feet washed, but he eventually humbled himself.

A few hours later, Peter denied Jesus three times as he went to the cross — something that Peter swore he would never do.

But Jesus did not cast him out.

He actually reeled him back in.

After His resurrection, Jesus called Peter back in from casting his fishing nets and restored him. (John 21:15-19)

Jesus offers the same restoration to anyone willing to cast their sins at the cross.

Easter is dawning. It’s easy to lose the momentum gained during Lent. Or maybe you don’t regularly attend church and are wrestling with going back next week after the emotional high of the day.

Keep casting.

Peter shows us we may have to humble ourselves many times to loosen our grip.

But it was possible for this fisherman from Galilee, and it’s possible for you.

Cut the line.

Cast and let go.

Mountain Mover

Here’s a simple way to practice cast and release:

C — Celebrate (Hands up)
It’s hard to be anxious and grateful at the same time. Celebration loosens anxiety’s grip.

A — Ask (Hands together in prayer)
The boldness of your prayers will be driven by the boldness of your faith. Do you believe in a powerful God who loves you? Then pray boldly. He tells us to ask, seek, and knock (Matthew 7:7). Timidity in prayer is a trust issue and a sign that you are not fully casting your cares to God.

S — Share (Hands out in front)
“Confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed” (James 5:16). Anxiety grows in isolation. Healing grows in community.

T — Trust (Hands in the shape of a cross)
Trust that God loved you enough to send His Son so that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have everlasting life (John 3:16). If you use this to teach others, insert the Gospel here. The first casting lesson is casting our sins to the cross.

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

How do you envision the gates of Heaven?

Culture often depicts a city resting on a pillow of cumulus clouds, with towering pearly gates. St. Peter is somewhere nearby, checking you in like it’s a Hilton.

These images make Heaven look like the starting point of some great ethereal journey.

But what if Heaven is actually the finish line?

You don’t cross into the streets of gold with a harp and wings.

Rather, you arrive spent—worn out, dusty, blood on your knuckles—from serving God with everything you had.

That perspective came to me when a pastor and friend preached on 2 Corinthians 12:15:

“I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls. If I love you more, am I to be loved less?”

In this verse, Paul gladly offers to exhaust himself for the sake of others.

He resolved to finish well, spending every ounce of energy here to help others get there.

This isn’t a fun run.

It’s an empty-the-tank dash for those pearly gates.

The Big Idea of Hebrews

The writer of Hebrews has the same vision in mind.

This anonymously penned epistle is addressed to first-century believers under persecution—Christians tempted to abandon Christ and return to the perceived safety of legalistic Judaism.

They are perilously close to going off course.

Hebrews is not merely about running the race of faith.

It is about the One who set the course—and finished it first.

It’s all about Jesus.

The Word That Frames the Race

This entire idea orbits around the Greek word archēgos.

It appears twice in Hebrews and frames this 13-chapter book beautifully:

• Hebrews 2:10

• Hebrews 12:2

(The only other New Testament occurrences are Acts 3:15 and 5:31.)

The word fuses the ideas of “first” and “to lead” and it resists clean English translation. Various Bible translations render it as:

• Founder

• Pioneer

• Author

• Captain

• Champion

One lexicon says this single word “gathers the breadth of redemptive history into a single title for Jesus Christ.”

Wheaton professor Julius Scott explains it this way:

“Given its full range of meaning, the word designates an individual who opened the way into a new area for others to follow, founded the city in which they dwelt, gave his name to the community, fought its battles and secured the victory, and then remained as the leader, ruler–hero of his people.”

Zoom out on Hebrews, and you’ll see that these two uses of archēgos mark the start and finish lines of the race of faith—pointing unmistakably to the supremacy of Jesus and charting the course to finish line.

The Start Line

“In bringing many sons and daughters to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the pioneer (archēgos) of their salvation perfect through what he suffered.”
— Hebrews 2:10 (NIV)

Hebrews opens by contrasting the old covenant—God speaking through prophets—with the new covenant—God speaking through His Son, Jesus.

Then comes one of the strongest Christological passages in Scripture. Jesus is declared in the first four verses of Hebrews to be:

• The Son of God

• Heir of all things

• Creator of the worlds

• Radiance of God’s glory

• Exact imprint of God’s nature

• Upholder of all things

• Purifier of sins

• Seated at the right hand of God

This establishes the thesis of Hebrews:

Jesus > ____________

Fill in the blank with anything.

Jesus is greater than all.

Why Jesus Could Go First

From there, Hebrews fills in that blank again and again—especially for an audience tempted to retreat to the old system:

• Jesus > Angels (Hebrews 1–2)

• Jesus > Moses (Hebrews 3)

• Jesus > Joshua (Hebrews 4)

• Jesus > the High Priesthood (Hebrews 4–5)

• Jesus > Melchizedek (Hebrews 7)

But Hebrews 2 pauses the argument to explain why Jesus came in the flesh:

“But we see him who for a little while was made lower than the angels, namely Jesus… crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death.”
— Hebrews 2:9

Jesus humbled Himself.

He entered suffering.

He bore our sin despite a perfect life.

Why?

To be our archēgos—our pioneer, founder, victor, leader, ruler, hero.

Through suffering, Jesus blazed a trail no one else could carve.

This is the start line.

This is the call to follow well.

Faith Runs the Course

The middle chapters of Hebrews warn against drift, apostasy, and hardened hearts—trip hazards that could knock believers off the course Jesus set.

Yet Hebrews also celebrates those who did follow.

Hebrews 11 makes it clear that the most well-known Old Testament figures also ran on faith—not works. More than 20 times in this chapter, we see the words “by faith,” establishing that the cadence before Christ was still a drumbeat of faith in God’s promises.

This gives us models of faith, while making it clear that we must keep our eyes on Jesus at the finish line:

“Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder (archēgos) and perfecter of our faith…”
— Hebrews 12:1–2

Jesus endured the cross.

He despised the shame.

He finished the race.

And now He is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

These words matter.

When do you sit down?

When it is finished.

The race is won.

The champion stands victorious.

For us to finish, we must fix our eyes on Jesus and run with endurance.

Christianity is not a one-time emotional response.

It’s not just a raised hand during a worship song.

It is a lifelong race.

Like Paul, we must be willing to finish spent so others may finish strong.

Heaven is not the starting line.

It is the finish line.

Mountain Mover

Our culture loves to celebrate—and argue about—who was first.

• Neil Armstrong walked on the moon first. But Yuri Gagarin reached space first. A monkey technically beat them both.

• North Carolina claims “First in Flight.” Ohio disagrees—vehemently. The dispute over who gets to claim the Wright brothers landed on both states’ license plates.

• St. Augustine, Florida, claims to be America’s oldest city. Pensacola counters with an earlier panhandle settlement across the state.

Everyone wants to be first.

But when it comes to the greatest “first” of all, there is no debate:

Jesus is the First First.

He is the archēgos.

This week, celebrate His firstness:

• Pray first. Spend 5–10 minutes with God before anything else.

• Read Scripture before email or social media.

• Study Holy Week intentionally. Begin with Jesus’ first entry on Palm Sunday (Matthew 21, Mark 11, Luke 19, or John 12). Zoom out and connect it to the prophecy of Zechariah 9:9.

• Write “Jesus First” on a sticky note or index card. Place it where you’ll see it daily.

Let Jesus be your:

• Pioneer

• Author

• Captain

• Champion

• Your archēgos

Don’t view Easter as the finish line—the end of Lent.

Keep going.

Finish well.

Finish spent.

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

When does Jesus first appear in the Bible?

Not Matthew 1:1.

Not the manger.

Page one.

John opens his Gospel with the words, “In the beginning,” which establishes Christ as co-equal with God, eternally existing within the Trinity — one God in three persons.

This truth should shape how we read the Bible — especially the Old Testament.

Jesus is on every page of the Bible — from Genesis to maps.

Just as the miracles in John’s Gospel are called signs because they point to a deeper truth, the Old Testament points forward to Jesus.

Jesus affirms this Himself over and over (John 5:39; Luke 24:27).

One striking example occurs during His nighttime meeting with the Pharisee Nicodemus in John 3.

Nicodemus was the foremost scriptural scholar of his day. He comes intrigued by the signs Jesus is performing, sensing that something extraordinary is unfolding.

After explaining the necessity of new birth, Jesus illuminates the path to eternal life using a passage Nicodemus would have known well:

“And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” — John 3:14–15

The Serpentine Path

“The serpent in the wilderness” refers to Numbers 21:4–9 — a period of disobedience for the nation of Israel. Judgment followed in the form of fiery, poisonous serpents invading their camp with deathly bites.

The people repent.

Moses intercedes in prayer.

God responds with grace.

Moses is instructed to craft a bronze serpent and raise it on a pole. Anyone who had been bitten could live by simply looking at this symbol of God’s provision.

In that wilderness moment, God’s promise was represented by a bronze serpent. The eternal antidote, however, would come through belief in Jesus — His incarnation, His death, and His resurrection.

We are all snakebit

The serpent became the symbol of sin in Genesis 3, when the devil slithered into the garden. The poison of that first bite still courses through humanity’s veins.

Paul explains it this way:

“…death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over those whose sinning was not like the transgression of Adam…” — Romans 5:14

Paul then says Adam “was a type of the one to come.”

This is biblical typology—the way the Old Testament points forward to Jesus.

Adam points to Jesus.

Where there was death in Adam, there is life in Jesus.

Jesus is the greater Adam, promised in Genesis 3:15 — the protoevangelium, the first gospel proclamation:

“I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.”

Jesus would take the snakebite for us — bruised at the cross — but victory would come through crushing the serpent’s head at His resurrection.

Martin Luther once said this verse “embraces and comprehends within itself everything noble and glorious that is to be found anywhere in the Scriptures.”

Jesus Offers an Antidote

The bronze serpent makes one thing unmistakably clear — salvation comes by grace through faith — not works.

There was nothing the Israelites could do to heal themselves.

Faith alone neutralized the venom.

The same is true today.

Salvation comes by looking up, not climbing up.

Pastor Tim Keller says the power of this image lies in its accessibility — anyone can look. Age, education, strength, or status do not matter. Even a blind man can crane his neck and look up.

A Closing Caution

The bronze serpent appears again in 2 Kings 18.

Over time, Israel began offering sacrifices to it and named it Nehushtan.

King Hezekiah destroyed it.

Even good gifts can become idols.

Never forget — God alone is worthy of our worship.

Mountain Mover — Look Up

Go back to Numbers 21 and examine why the Israelites ended up in the snake pit.

They had to go the long way.

They grew impatient (Numbers 21:4).

They grumbled and complained.

This is usually how we fall in the snake pit too.

The best way to avoid it?

Go the long way—on purpose.

Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount:

“…If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles.” — Matthew 5:41

This wasn’t abstract advice. Under Roman occupation, Jews could be legally forced to carry a soldier’s pack for one mile. No more.

Jesus says: Do more than they expect.

That’s the Two-Miler mindset.

When you feel down, here are a few ways to live this out:

• Carry a pack
  Walk. Get outside. Fresh air matters. Add weight and add a friend. Rucking is simple, low-impact, and powerful.

• Carry someone else’s pack
  Do something kind this week—especially for someone you don’t like. Buy that coworker a cup of coffee. Lighten someone else’s load.

• Carry the Word
  Turn down the noise. Put God’s Word in your ears. Listen to worship music on your commute. Skip the podcast full of outrage, profanity, and conspiracy. Try the Suffer Up podcast — it’s all about the Two-Miler lifestyle.

Got another way to be a two-miler? Drop in the comments below.

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

Sometimes I scroll through help-wanted ads just to see what is out there.

There are some really creative ones these days.

NOW HIRING —

Director of First Impressions.
(That means you’re answering phones.)

Chief Happiness Officer …
(You’re stocking snacks in the break room.)

Rockstar Project Manager!
(Everything is on fire.)

Job descriptions matter.

They align expectations.

So here’s a question:

What is the job description of a Christian?

It’s an important question. The first thing Jesus says in Luke 10 is this:

“The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers.” — Luke 10:2

Then the chapter unfolds in three scenes:

• Jesus sends out the seventy-two

• Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan

• Jesus visits Mary and Martha

Zoom out and you will see a clear picture of Christian responsibility.

In Luke 10 we learn that:

• We are ambassadors

• We are neighbors

• We are worshippers

“Whether we are in the harvest field, on the highway, or in the home, our highest privilege and our greatest joy is to do the will of God,” writes Warren Wiersbe in his famous “Be” book series that inspired this look at Luke 10.

We must pray earnestly, as Jesus commands, to understand these three roles.

Luke 10 opens after a critical pivot in Luke 9:51:

“When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.”

This marks the beginning of Luke’s travel narrative that documents Jesus’s resolute march toward the cross.

From there, Jesus sends seventy-two disciples as His advance party into the towns ahead (some translations say 70). They go two by two, with minimal supplies, carrying only His authority.

There was nothing about this expedition that sounded appealing.

“Go your way; behold, I am sending you out as lambs in the midst of wolves.” — Luke 10:3

Why would seventy men willingly walk into a wolfpack wearing wool jackets?

Because they believed in the mission.

Do people believe in the mission of the church?

Are we properly articulating the mission of the church, including the parts requiring the wool jacket and the wolfpack?

Or do we say things like … “We just need a little bit of your time?”

Or … “Let’s find a way to make this as comfortable and convenient as possible.”

Let’s all be honest.

It may be difficult.

It may cost you.

Watch how many still respond.

Arctic explorer Ernest Shackleton is famously associated with this help-wanted ad before his 1914 Endurance expedition:

Men wanted for hazardous journey. Low wages, bitter cold, long hours of complete darkness. Safe return doubtful. Honour and recognition in the event of success.

Thousands applied for 50 spots.

Why?

People will do hard things when the mission is clear and the purpose is worthy.

Ask anyone who has ever served in the United States military.

What Jesus offers is far greater than honor, recognition, and fame. This is a mission with eternity on the line.

Consider the reaction of the men he sent out:

“The seventy-two returned with joy, saying, ‘Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!’” — Luke 10:17

In the middle of Luke 10, we find the parable of the Good Samaritan.

This passage has created a ubiquitous term to describe random acts of kindness—changing a tire or helping an elderly lady cross the street.

Those are good things. We need more of them.

But Jesus wasn’t highlighting isolated acts of goodwill.

He was showing how saving grace transforms a person so deeply that love continually flows out of them.

The story unfolds after Jesus emphasizes the importance of loving your neighbor. A lawyer presses Jesus with this question: “Who is my neighbor?”

Jesus answers with a story.

A man is beaten and left for dead on the treacherous Jericho Road.

A priest passes by.

A Levite passes by.

A Samaritan stops.

That detail would have shocked Jesus’s audience. Jews and Samaritans despised each other. It would have been dangerous for the Samaritan to even be on that road.

Yet he stops.

He shows compassion.

He pays for the man’s care—and promises to cover whatever more is needed.

The parable exposes the cost of compassion. Even more so, it exposes the cost of walking past a neighbor in need. Wiersbe offers this in his exposition of Luke 10:

“It is far more costly not to care. The priest and Levite lost the opportunity to become better men and good stewards of what God had given them.”

The Samaritan’s sacrifice, meanwhile, has inspired generations.

Immediately after the parable, Jesus enters the home of Martha and Mary.

Martha is busy serving.

Mary sits at Jesus’s feet, listening.

Frustrated, Martha asks Jesus to intervene.

“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken from her.” — Luke 10:41–42

This chapter began with urgency—the seventy-two.

Then it moved to sacrifice with the Good Samaritan.

Now Jesus tells us to stop—and worship.

That isn’t a contradiction.

It’s critical.

Worship is the highest of the three responsibilities.

Service without worship leads to exhaustion.

Worship without mission leads to insulation and neglects the harvest.

The hinge between the two is compassion.

The Bible says Martha was “distracted with much serving.”

Where is the church distracted?

Are we too focused on conferences, and events, and fluff?

Or are we prioritizing our highest calling of worship.

Mountain Mover

Whatever you do, don’t let this motivate you.

Motivation comes and goes.

Discipline is needed in discipleship.

We are ambassadors, neighbors, and worshippers.

There will be days we don’t feel like being any of the three.

Then what?

Olympian Alexi Pappas describes the “Rule of Thirds”— one-third of the time training feels great, one-third feels average, and one-third feels terrible.

Can you still show up on the difficult days?

When you don’t feel like being an ambassador, will you still tell someone about Jesus?

When you’re exhausted, will you still show mercy—even to people you don’t like?

When you don’t feel like praising, will you still offer a hard-fought hallelujah?

Some days will feel like walking into that wolfpack wearing a wool jacket.

Jesus never said it would be easy.

He never said it wouldn’t cost you.

But eternity is at stake.

That makes being an ambassador, a neighbor, and a worshipper the greatest joy and privilege of our lives.

The harvest is plentiful.

Go be among the few willing to labor for it.

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

Yellow paint beams off the corrugated metal tunnel leading into Craighead Caverns. This tunnel serves as both the main entrance and exit to the Lost Sea Adventure—a cave attraction near Interstate 75 in Sweetwater, Tennessee.

After more than an hour exploring the cave’s dark depths and vast underground lake, the bright paint prepares your pupils for the blaring East Tennessee sun waiting outside.

Light is offensive to the dark. Stepping into it can feel blinding at first.

This can also describe the process of entering the light of Jesus.

Salvation is instant.

Sanctification is progressive.

Like a newborn learning to focus, those who are born again spiritually don’t always see clearly all at once (John 3).

This theme of progressive understanding runs throughout the Gospel of Mark.

Mark can be divided into two major sections.

The first eight chapters document Jesus’ ministry around Galilee.

The final eight trace His march to Jerusalem and the Passion.

Peter’s confession that Jesus is the Christ (Mark 8:29) is often treated as the bridge between these two sections.

But just before that confession, Mark records a rare miracle—found only in his Gospel—that helps us zoom out and see a bigger picture.

The Only Miracle Done in Stages

The miracle recorded in Mark 8:22–26 is the only miracle Jesus performs in stages.

A group of people bring a blind man to Jesus and beg Him to heal him. Jesus leads the man out of the village, spits on his eyes, lays hands on him, and then asks:

“Do you see anything?” —Mark 8:23

Jesus never asks questions because He lacks information.

The man responds: “I see people, but they look like trees, walking.” —Mark 8:24

Jesus lays His hands on him again.

And the man sees clearly.

Not just clearly—radiantly.

Mark 8:25 is the only verse in Scripture that uses the Greek word télaugós, meaning shining, radiant, bright.

One lexicon notes that the word was commonly used in military and navigational settings to describe objects visible in broad daylight.

As one commentary notes …

What the sun does for eyesight, the Son does for insight.

If you read this miracle in isolation, it could leave you confused.

Why heal in stages?

Why two touches?

To understand that, you have to zoom out.

This Miracle Isn’t About the Blind Man

It’s about the disciples.

Mark 8 opens with Jesus feeding 4,000 people using what amounts to a first-century Lunchable.

Immediately afterward, the Pharisees demand another sign. Jesus refuses—not because He can’t perform miracles, but because He won’t cater to unbelief.

Soon after, the disciples board a boat and realize they forgot bread.

Jesus uses this as a teaching moment:

“Watch out; beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod.” —Mark 8:15

He’s speaking about the corrupting influence of sin and hypocrisy—using bread as the analogy—right after miraculously multiplying it.

And the lesson sails straight over the disciples’ heads.

Instead of listening to Jesus, the disciples listen to their stomachs.

They panic over one missing loaf, right after watching the Bread of Life feed thousands.

So Jesus presses them with prophetic language from Ezekiel and Jeremiah:

“Having eyes do you not see, and having ears do you not hear? And do you not remember?” —Mark 8:18

This sets up — and explains — the twice-touched blind man in the middle of Mark 8.

Confession Without Clarity

But there is still more to see.

Next comes Peter’s famous confession: “Jesus is the Christ.”

This is the climax of the first half of Mark’s Gospel.

The turning point.

The moment that signals the march to the cross.

Surely now the disciples see clearly.

Nope.

Moments later, Jesus explains that He must suffer.

Peter rebukes Him.

Jesus responds: “Get behind me, Satan.”

Even after confessing the truth, Peter still doesn’t fully see.

But Peter is about to witness something very few humans ever have.

He is about to see a blinding light—the radiance of God’s glory.

Light From the Son

Mark 9 records the Mount of Transfiguration.

Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a high mountain and gives them a preview of His glory.

Mark writes that Jesus was: “transfigured… radiant, intensely white, as no one on earth could bleach them.” —Mark 9:3

This isn’t light shining on Jesus.

It’s light shining from Him.

This is the Son whose glory will make the sun unnecessary in heaven (Revelation 21:23).

Then Moses and Elijah appear—the Law and the Prophets—fulfilled.

And Peter makes another mistake.

In trembling fear, he offers to build three tents, unintentionally equating Jesus with Moses and Elijah.

God the Father interrupts: “This is my beloved Son; listen to him.” —Mark 9:7

Peter is rebuked—again.

Seeing Comes in Stages

Peter messed up.

More than once.

The disciples walked with Jesus, wore the dust of His sandals, and still didn’t see clearly.

Sound familiar?

Spiritual sight often comes in stages—just as physical sight does.

I can tell you that I first believed in Jesus when I was nine years old at Oak Grove Baptist Church in Madisonville, Tennessee — not far from the Lost Sea and that yellow tunnel. I was a tour guide there in high school, and I led many people up that bright pathway. But my life drifted toward darkness.

My vision blurred.

I still knew Jesus—but you couldn’t see it in my life.

It wasn’t until my thirties that my sight slowly returned.

Maybe I just drifted from God. The Bible warns against that (Hebrews 2).

Or—like the blind man at Bethsaida—did my sight just come in stages?

There is one thing I do know for sure.

“Twas blind, but now I see.”

Tears still well up in these half-blind eyes every time I hear those words in the old hymn “Amazing Grace.”

Mountain Mover

Years later, Peter reflected on his experience on the Mount of Transfiguration.

“We were eyewitnesses of his majesty… we ourselves heard this very voice borne from heaven, for we were with him on the holy mountain.” —2 Peter 1:16–18

Peter didn't try to erase his mistakes. He highlighted God's redemption.

Apologetics calls this the criterion of embarrassment.

Peter admitting his failures gives credibility to his testimony.

It would have been easy for Peter to erase these details.

Tradition holds that Peter was the primary source of Mark’s gospel.

Yet Peter doesn’t grab the eraser. He reaches for the highlighter.

God often uses broken people as gospel torches to spread His light.

How you can you use your story to help this blind world see His radiant glory?

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