Suffering is one of the greatest theological challenges we face. How can a good God allow suffering? If suffering exists in this fallen world but not in heaven, does that mean it is inherently bad? And if all good things come from above (James 1:17), how do we reconcile the fact that God has at times ordained suffering—whether through judgment, discipline, or sanctification?

Suffering is one of the most difficult realities of life. We instinctively recoil from it, yet Scripture repeatedly demonstrates that suffering has a purpose in God's sovereign plan. A friend and I recently discussed whether suffering is "good." He argued that suffering is not good because it does not exist in heaven. I countered that, in a sense, suffering is good because it draws us to the Suffering Servant—Christ.

Amaziah’s reign presents a sobering contrast between partial obedience and total devotion. He started well, following the Lord—but not wholeheartedly (v. 2). His compromise led to folly: after God granted him victory over Edom, he inexplicably brought back their idols and worshiped them. His heart drifted from trust in the Lord to misplaced confidence in foreign gods and his own strength.

The Spirit carries Ezekiel to the east gate of the temple complex, where he sees the leaders of Judah engaging in evil (Ezek. 11:1). These officials, newly appointed after the exile of the previous rulers, believe they are secure in their positions. Their words—“This city is the pot, and we are the meat in it” (v. 3)—reflect their confidence that Jerusalem will shield them from harm. But the Lord sees through their presumption. They may claim to protect the people, but in reality, they are the cause of the city’s destruction. Their policies are not rooted in righteousness but in self-preservation, deceit, and murder (v. 6).

In Chapter 13, Job stands before us as a man wrestling with suffering, yet unwavering in his determination to bring his case before God. His friends offer hollow words, wrapped in moralistic reasoning that fails to grasp the deeper reality of God's ways. Job refuses their empty counsel, choosing instead to seek an audience with the Almighty, even though he knows the risk. In one of the most striking declarations of faith, he proclaims, “Though he slay me, I will hope in him” (Job 13:15). This chapter challenges us to consider where our trust lies—not in formulas or human reasoning, but in the living God, whose ways are beyond our comprehension yet utterly trustworthy.

"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross."

E. Stanley Jones points us to a single, powerful word: “in.” The Christian life is not about escaping trials or sidestepping difficulties. It is not about soaring above pain or outrunning suffering. Christ’s victory is not an exemption from hardship but a triumph within it.

“Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountains on the scales and the hills in a balance?”
—Isaiah 40:12

Joan scrolled through her X feed, her heart tightening with each headline. Another executive order bypassing Congress. Another news report hinting at government overreach. Another commentator warning that the Constitution was hanging by a thread.

Her mind raced. What will happen to our country? What kind of world will my children and grandchildren inherit?

“Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountains on the scales and the hills in a balance?”
—Isaiah 40:12

There is no comparison between God and man. We measure in increments, in teaspoons and yards, in hours and days. But God? He holds the immeasurable in His hands. The vast oceans, the endless stretch of the heavens—these are but a whisper of His power. He alone is limitless in wisdom, seeing the end from the beginning, orchestrating the grand tapestry of time with flawless precision.

For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. — Colossians 3:3 BSB

The world often celebrates those who stand in the spotlight, measuring success by visibility and recognition. But the life hidden in Christ takes a different path—one that embraces the quiet work of the Spirit, where Christ alone is magnified.

📖 For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them. —Ephesians 2:10

Grace is not only God’s kindness in forgiving our sins; it is also His power at work in us, shaping us for His purposes. We are not left to figure out how to serve Him by our own wisdom or effort. Rather, He is the master craftsman, skillfully fashioning us into vessels suited for His work.

Elijah, weary and worn, lay under the broom tree, swallowed by exhaustion and despair. But God’s response was not a vision, a rebuke, or an elaborate revelation—He simply sent an angel with a meal and told Elijah to arise and eat. God’s provision was already there; Elijah only needed to receive it.

“O our God . . . we have no might against this great company that cometh against us; neither know we what to do: but our eyes are upon Thee.” (2 Chron. 20:12)

It is a humbling thing to come to the end of ourselves—to admit that in our own strength, we are powerless. Yet, this admission is not defeat; it is the doorway to triumph. Too many believers linger in a state of spiritual infancy, seeing only their forgiveness in Christ but never stepping into the fullness of their life in Him. They struggle, striving against the enemy, unaware that victory has already been secured.

In the midst of Paul’s discussion on spiritual gifts, he presents a truth that surpasses all gifts, abilities, and knowledge—love. It is not an emotion, nor is it a passive sentiment. Love is active, enduring, and essential. Without it, even the most remarkable spiritual acts amount to nothing.

Too often, love is reduced to a fleeting feeling or a romantic ideal, but Paul anchors it in something far greater. Love is the very nature of God, and because of that, it is eternal. While faith and hope serve a purpose in this present age, love transcends time, remaining forever.

Luke 6 unveils Jesus' authority over all things, from the Sabbath to the human heart. He exposes the religious leaders’ legalism, calls disciples to a radical love, and defines true discipleship. The chapter culminates in the well-known parable of the two houses—one built on rock and the other on sand. In this, Jesus calls us to not merely hear His words but to live in them, anchored in His truth.

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.” (Romans 8:35, 37)

Life is filled with uncertainties. One moment, everything seems stable—finances are steady, relationships are thriving, health is strong. Then, without warning, the ground beneath us shifts. A job is lost. A diagnosis comes. A relationship fractures. In those moments, the human heart naturally longs for security—something unshakable to hold onto when everything else is slipping away.

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.” (Romans 8:35, 37)

We live in a world that is constantly shifting—circumstances change, people fail, and emotions rise and fall. But our life in Christ is not like that. It does not waver with passing feelings or depend on external stability. As E. Stanley Jones points out, being in Christ is as dependable as the law of gravity—only greater, for it is rooted in the very nature and character of God Himself.

📖 “I have hidden Your word in my heart that I might not sin against You.” (Psalm 119:11)

For many believers today, hiding God’s Word in our hearts has become synonymous with scripture memorization. We hear it often: Memorize verses so you can recall them when you need them. While memorizing key passages can be beneficial, is rote memorization really what the Bible emphasizes? Or does Scripture point to something deeper and more transformative?

📖 “I have hidden Your word in my heart that I might not sin against You.” (Psalm 119:11)

For many believers today, hiding God’s Word in our hearts has become synonymous with scripture memorization. We hear it often: Memorize verses so you can recall them when you need them. While memorizing key passages can be beneficial, is rote memorization really what the Bible emphasizes? Or does Scripture point to something deeper and more transformative?

Caleb had always been a man of discipline. From a young age, he learned that hard work yielded results, and if something wasn’t going right, it was up to him to fix it. This mindset served him well in his career, where he climbed the corporate ladder with sheer determination, and in his personal life, where he prided himself on being the kind of man who took responsibility. But when it came to his spiritual life, his relentless drive only left him exhausted.

📖 “A voice of one calling: In the wilderness prepare the way for the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be raised up, every mountain and hill made low; the rough ground shall become level, the rugged places a plain.” — Isaiah 40:3-4

The coming of Christ is not merely about reconciliation—it is also about reconstruction. Just as John the Baptist prepared the way for Jesus, so too does the Spirit prepare our hearts to be a dwelling place for God. He is not content to leave us as He found us; He reshapes and refines us so that His life can be expressed through us.