In a world overflowing with voices—Reddit threads, self-proclaimed experts, age-old traditions, and dogmatic certainty—we’re left asking the same question Job did: “But where can wisdom be found?” Let’s explore the empty counsel of Job’s friends, the limits of human reasoning, and the surpassing power of God’s wisdom that humbles the proud, comforts the broken, and gives life to all who seek Him.
When tragedy strikes and evil seems to triumph, we cry out "Where is God?" Looking again at Job’s story we'll explore the age-old problem of suffering and discover why God created a world where pain exists. Rather than offering cheap answers to life's hardest questions, we'll wrestle with whether there's a God who truly understands our struggles and find hope in His greater purpose.
Following the extreme and shocking losses in his life, Job's confronted by his wife, his friends, and even his own thoughts about his existence. How will he respond? Where will he go from here? What's going to happen next? There’s not much Job (or others) can do to fix what has happened in his life. But that doesn’t mean he's out of options. With the only thing he has left—his voice—Job begins to honestly process and defiantly declare how he feels and perceives. His choice of words can help shape the questions we have for God in times of trial and loss.
Job’s story reminds us that our lives unfold on more than just an earthly stage. Behind his suffering was a heavenly courtroom and a spiritual battle Job couldn't see. In the same way, our struggles are not random or meaningless—they're woven into a greater reality where God’s sovereignty and our faith are displayed. When we can't see the full picture, we're invited to trust the One who does. There's always more than meets the eye.
The Lord’s Table is more than a ritual—it's a sacred invitation. In communion, we remember Christ’s sacrifice, proclaim His victory, and honor His presence among us. We're also called to honor one another, recognizing that we share in one bread and one cup. We're invited to approach the Table with reverence, humility, and love, giving glory to God and extending honor to each other.
We all carry burdens: some light, some crushing. All too often, we try to carry them alone, believing strength means suffering in silence. But what if true strength is found not in isolation, but in walking together? In Galatians 6, Paul calls us to build a community marked by nearness, humility, and mutual support—a community that lifts each other’s heaviest loads instead of breaking under them. Burdens weren’t meant to break us, but to bind us, and in Christ, no burden is too heavy when we carry it together.
Will we choose to be brave in our relationships with our brothers and sisters in Christ? It’s not always easy to share the real parts of ourselves—the struggles, the doubts, the wounds, the areas where we need sharpening—but this is where true unity and maturity are forged. Paul reminds us that we are called to “speak the truth in love” so that we grow together into Christ. When each part does its work, the whole Body is built up in love. We are better together—not because we’re perfect, but because we're helping each other become more like Jesus.
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Our rally cry is to live in the freedom Christ has already secured for us. This freedom isn't permission to do whatever we want. It’s the power to live as we were created to live: full of grace, love, and truth. Paul warns against returning to the yoke of slavery, whether it be legalism, sin, or performance-based religion. Instead, we're called to stand firm in the finished work of Christ, to eagerly await the hope of righteousness through the Spirit, and to run well the race marked out for us—free, focused, and faithful.
The word pictures of Jesus give us something on which to build our lives. Sometimes His parables unravel our perceptions of God. At other points they increase our hope and renew our image of His Kingdom. He seems completely at ease with the open-ended questions, the critique of faith, and the broad imagery which His parables give. Using two everyday objects, Jesus invites us to look at the old and to new and look for meaningful ways to make a life of following Him.
The Parable of the Wedding Banquet paints a vivid picture of the kingdom of heaven as a royal wedding banquet—lavish, prepared, and ready. The King has set the table, the feast is prepared, and now the invitation goes out. This is not just a meal; it’s a moment of decision. The question is, will we accept the invitation, and will we carry that invitation to others with the same urgency and grace the King has shown us?
In a world where quick answers and instant gratification are the norm, Jesus tells a disruptive parable about a persistent widow and an unjust judge. But this isn’t just a story about nagging God. It’s a call to steadfast, eschatological prayer: the kind of prayer that cries “Thy Kingdom come” even when nothing seems to change. Through the widow’s holy protest, Jesus challenges us to not lose heart in the waiting. Don’t give up. Keep praying. The Kingdom is coming.
If there’s anything we can expect from Jesus, it’s honesty. He tells people they have “little faith” while affirming others who have “great faith.” He calls out hypocrisy in those worried about being religiously correct, and He speaks straight to those who don’t seem to care about God at all. At the close of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells a story of an impending storm. His parable invites us to look honestly at all the angles of the story and place ourselves in it. His honest description of the coming storm isn’t intended to make us worry—He wants us to respond.
Jesus paints a stunning picture of the Father’s heart through the story of the prodigal son—not just a tale of rebellion and return, but a radical revelation of God’s compassionate love. When the son who squandered everything finally comes home, the father doesn’t meet him with anger or shame. He runs—runs—to embrace him, robe him, and restore him. This is the love of our Heavenly Father: not earned, but freely given; not cautious, but extravagant. We're invited to receive this love without hesitation, letting it heal our shame and rewrite our story. And once we’ve been embraced by such grace, we're called to extend it to others with the same open arms, the same lavish mercy, and the same joy in seeing the lost return home.
Luke 14:25-33 challenges us to count the cost of following Jesus. Discipleship isn’t casual—it demands total surrender. Jesus calls us to lay down everything, even what we hold most dear, to truly follow Him. This passage asks: Have we counted the cost? Are we willing to give Him our all?
We're often content with appearances, but Jesus calls us to something deeper: true spiritual life. In Revelation 3, the church in Sardis had the reputation of being alive but was spiritually dead. This message is a wake-up call to shake off apathy, remember the gospel, and return to a life marked by repentance, power, and purpose. It’s time to wake up, strengthen what remains, and walk in the purity and victory that only comes through Jesus.
Examples of faith and faithfulness, like we see in Ruth and her family, are awe-inspiring. They remind us how incredible people actually are and how ordinary people can make phenomenal impact. Looking on, we wonder how they do what they do and how they risk what they risk. But we're not intended to be spectators of faithfulness. Rather we're created to be risk-taking, faith-stepping participants in a story that's more than meets the eye.
This powerful promise from Scripture finds a living example in the story of Ruth. When she humbly approached Boaz and asked him to be her kinsman redeemer, she stepped out in faith—boldly yet respectfully requesting what was both within God's provision and Boaz’s power to give. Ruth’s story reminds us that sometimes what we need most is already within reach—we just have to ask. God honors courage rooted in trust, and He often moves when we move in faith.
As those created in the image of God, we're not just shaped by His hands, we're shaped to reflect His heart. One of the most profound ways we mirror our Creator is by living out hesed—the rich, covenantal love God continually shows us. Hesed is more than kindness; it’s a deep, loyal, and sacrificial love that never gives up, even when it’s undeserved. When we show hesed in our relationships and our communities, we don’t just talk about God’s love, we reveal it. This is what it means to live as His image-bearers: to love as He loves, faithfully, relentlessly, and with grace.
