The Difficult One
We've all encountered them—those people who seem to make everything harder than it needs to be. The coworker who complicates every project. The family member who turns simple decisions into hour-long debates. The friend who always finds something to argue about. But here's the uncomfortable question we rarely ask ourselves: What if we're the difficult one? Let's break down what "being difficult" actually means. According to Webster's Dictionary, "being" refers to a living thing, the state of existing, or the most important part of a person's mind or self. "Difficult" means not easy, requiring much work or skill, not easy to deal with or manage, not willing to help others by changing behavior—stubborn or unreasonable. Put them together, and being difficult becomes a state of mind, an entire existence centered on being hard to manage. It's a thought process where your whole purpose becomes not being easy, not willing to help others. That's a sobering reality check.

90/10
Here's a perspective shift that might change how you view your problems: Only 5% of your problems are completely outside your control—weather, technology, life systems, the timing of things. Another 5% are people—their actions, words, attitudes, opinions, and thoughts.
That's 10% total. - The other 90%? That's you. That's how you respond to the 10%.
We spend so much energy blaming the 10% for how we feel, for what's not working, for our frustrations. But the truth is, the vast majority of our experience comes down to our response. We want to blame others for our difficulties when we should be examining our reactions.

Peter's Problem
The disciple Peter provides a fascinating case study in being difficult without realizing it. After spending three years with Jesus—learning directly from the Son of God—Peter still struggled with this issue. In Matthew 16, Jesus began explaining that He would suffer, be killed, and rise again on the third day. Peter, thinking he was being helpful and protective, took Jesus aside and said, "Heaven forbid, Lord! This will never happen to you!" Jesus's response was shocking: "Get away from me, Satan! You are a dangerous trap to me. You are seeing things merely from a human point of view, not from God's." Imagine that. Peter loved Jesus. He was trying to protect Him. He thought he was doing the right thing. Yet Jesus called him a stumbling block and addressed the demonic influence behind his words. This reveals something profound: We can be difficult even when we think we're being helpful.

The Sword and the Ear
Later, in the Garden of Gethsemane, Peter's difficulty manifested again. When soldiers came to arrest Jesus, Peter drew his sword and cut off the ear of the high priest's servant. Once again, Peter thought he was doing the right thing—defending his Lord. But Jesus rebuked him, healed the servant's ear, and essentially said, "This isn't the way." How often do we "cut people up" with our words, actions, attitudes, looks, opinions, and thoughts—all while thinking we're in the right? How often does someone else have to come behind us to heal the damage we've caused, reassuring the wounded, "Don't pay attention to them. They thought they were doing what was right"?

The Devil Can Use Anyone
This is the terrifying truth we must face: God can use anyone to accomplish His will, but so can the devil. And if we're not careful, if we're not abiding in Christ and His Word, we won't even know the difference. Peter didn't realize he was being used by the enemy. He was sincere, devoted, and passionate. But sincerity without spiritual discernment can lead us to become stumbling blocks rather than steppingstones. The key isn't just wanting to be "used by God." The goal is to know God. When you have a genuine relationship with Jesus, there's no "using"—there's only doing His will out of love and intimacy.

Living in Harmony
Romans 12:14-21 provides a roadmap for not being difficult: Bless those who persecute you. Be happy with those who are happy; weep with those who weep Live in harmony with each other. Don't be too proud. Don't think you know it all. Do all you can to live peacefully with everyone. Never take revenge. Overcome evil with good. Notice the theme? Don't be difficult. Romans 14 adds another layer: Don't cause others to stumble. If you're not acting in love, if your behavior distresses other believers, you're missing the point. The Kingdom of God is about goodness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit—not about being right at the expense of others.

Being Difficult?
So how do we stop being difficult? It starts with honest self-examination. This week, ask yourself three questions: 1. Am I being difficult? - Not "Is someone else being difficult?" but "Am I the difficult one?" This requires brutal honesty and humility. 2. If so, why am I being difficult? What's driving this behavior? Is it insecurity? Pride? Past wounds? Fear of losing control? Dig deeper than surface explanations. 3. What are my motives? This is crucial. Monitor your motives. What's really motivating your words and actions? Are you operating from love and truth, or from selfishness and ego? Sometimes we're difficult while trying not to be. We defer so much that we frustrate others. We refuse to make decisions because we're "being flexible." But that's still difficult—just a different flavor. Other times, we're difficult because we haven't set proper boundaries. It's okay to disagree. It's okay not to agree on everything—as long as it's not contrary to God's Word or leading someone away from truth.

Hope!
Here's the gospel truth in all of this: You don't have to be difficult. And you don't have to stay difficult. You can change. You can grow. You can become a person who builds others up instead of tearing them down, who makes life easier for others instead of harder, who blesses instead of wounds. Every person in your life will experience you as either a stumbling block or a steppingstone. You'll either help lift them toward their destiny, or you'll cause them to trip. The choice, for the most part, is yours. Don't be that guy—the one who cuts off ears and needs Jesus to come behind and heal the damage. Be the person who brings healing, peace, and life wherever you go.

The Declaration of Freedom:
As we just celebrated Juneteenth and father’s day this past weekend one of our teaching pastors Chris Silva shared a remarkable truth just before my message —Juneteenth is a celebration that marks not the abolishment of slavery, but the moment enslaved people in Texas finally heard the news that they had been free for over two years. The Emancipation Proclamation had been signed in 1862, taking effect January 1, 1863. Yet it wasn't until June 19, 1865, when General Granger arrived in Galveston, Texas, that the enslaved people there discovered their legal freedom. They faced a choice: continue living as slaves or embrace the freedom that had already been declared. This historical moment mirrors a spiritual reality. In Luke 4, Jesus stood in the synagogue and read from Isaiah: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed." Then Jesus made a stunning declaration: "Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing." Our spiritual freedom has been declared. The question is: will we continue to submit to the old slave master of sin, old habits, destructive mindsets, and broken relationships? Or will we stand on the promises of God and walk in the liberty Christ has purchased for us? Not understanding this truth has placed men and fathers of America in an peculiar space.

Source Code:
In a world where the concept of fatherhood has become increasingly complicated and often painful, there's a deep need to return to the biblical blueprint for what it means to lead, love, and serve our families. The journey toward understanding this begins with recognizing a profound truth: freedom has already been declared, but we must choose to walk in it.

Leadership Crisis:
Our culture faces a leadership crisis, particularly in understanding biblical manhood and fatherhood. We've twisted Scripture to support domination rather than service, control rather than example, lordship rather than love. When we read in Ephesians 5 that "the husband is the head of the wife," we often misunderstand what "head" means. In the original context, "head" refers to source—the origin, the beginning. Just as Adam was created first and Eve came from him, making him her source, husbands are called to be the source of protection, provision, direction, and spiritual leadership in their homes. This isn't about control. It's about responsibility. Being the "head" means being the source of: Protection from physical and spiritual harm provision for physical and emotional needs, direction toward godly living, correction done in love and wisdom an Example that points the family toward Christ.

Example Over Authority:
First Peter 5:1-4 provides crucial insight for all leaders—whether in the church, home, or community: "Care for the flock God entrusted to you. Watch over it willingly, not grudgingly... Don't lord over the people assigned to your care. Lead them by your own good example." The instruction is clear: don't lord over people. Don't be holier-than-thou. Don't constantly condemn or point out faults. Don't tell people what to do, how to do it, and when to do it in a way that makes you their lord instead of Jesus. Instead, be the example. This principle transforms how we understand Ephesians 5:22-33. When it says wives should submit to their husbands, it's not about blind obedience to a dictator. It's about following someone who is himself following Christ, someone who loves his wife as Christ loved the church—sacrificially, unto death. The husband's call is far more demanding than the wife's. He must love her as Christ loved the church, giving up his life for her, making her holy, presenting her without spot or wrinkle. He must love her as he loves his own body, feeding and caring for her just as Christ cares for the church. This is the great mystery and illustration: marriage demonstrates Christ's relationship with the church.

Death of Dreams:
Here's the uncomfortable truth about biblical manhood: your dreams will die. Everything you wanted to be, everything you thought you'd accomplish—much of it won't happen. And you can recognize a real man because he lets his dreams go. Jesus went to the cross and descended to hell so we wouldn't have to. He said, "If you want to find your life, you must lose it." Too often, we're busy trying to build something—anything tangible or intangible—without paying attention to who we're building it for. The critical questions become: What are you building, and who are you building it for? If you're not building the kingdom of God, nothing else ultimately matters. You can build things for your kids, your company, your spouse, your legacy—but if you're not building God's kingdom, you're building on sand. When you start building what God has called you to build, all the other things will be added to you.

The Generational Warning:
Perhaps the most sobering reality is this: we are only one generation away from our grandchildren not knowing who God is. Consider this biblical pattern:
David knew God intimately, pursuing His heart with passion, Saul knew about God but chased his kingdom and didn't truly know God. David watched Saul's failed leadership and chose differently. Solomon watched David's relationship with God but pursued women instead—over a thousand of them—building altars to foreign gods to please them. He had all the wisdom and wrote Ecclesiastes, but he knew about God rather than knowing God. The difference is everything.

Breaking Down the Armor:
One of the hardest things for men to do is remove their armor and show each other their battle wounds. We struggle with vulnerability, with sharing the things we're dealing with, because we were never meant to appear weak. But here's the truth: if we can't reach a place where we share our vulnerabilities and are transparent with other men, we find ourselves fighting alone. And we were never meant to fight alone. Men are like onions—we have layers. And we don't like peeling too deep because if you peel into an onion too far, you start crying. And strong men don't cry, right? - Wrong. Strength isn't the absence of tears or struggle. Strength is having the courage to be honest about the battle, to ask for help, to submit to mentorship, and to keep getting up when you fall.

Responsibility:
Every man must decide: Will I expand my circle of responsibility, or will I stay comfortable with "my four and no more"? There's responsibility you're given, and there's responsibility you take. Some men are called to be fathers to the fatherless, spiritual fathers to those who never had one, sources of wisdom and protection to those who were shortchanged or found themselves in situations where they weren't afforded what they needed. When we step into that expanded responsibility, we become more like Christ—the ultimate source who expanded His circle to include everyone.
 
Walking in Freedom:
The invitation stands today, just as it did in that synagogue 2,000 years ago: liberty has been proclaimed. The captives have been set free. The brokenhearted will be healed. The blind will see. The question is whether we'll believe it and walk in it. For men, this means stepping into the calling to be sources—not lords—over our families. It means dying to our dreams so God's dreams can live through us. It means removing our armor with other men and fighting together rather than alone. For everyone, it means recognizing that we've been declared free and choosing to live like it, refusing to submit any longer to the old slave master. The source code has been written. The example has been set. Now it's time to follow. 

Our Worth in God's Eyes:
What is appraisal? And why is it so important? It is the formal process of estimating the value, quality, or nature of something or someone. The term usually refers to an “ expert valuation ” of property (like real estate or jewelry) or a periodic workplace performance.
Have you ever noticed how we assign value to everything in our lives? From our homes to our cars, from our possessions to our very selves, we're constantly engaged in the business of appraisal. But what happens when our assessments don't match reality? And more importantly, what happens when we apply this same flawed system to evaluating ourselves and others?

Perspective Problem:
We all know the frustration. You purchase a home for $80,000, but the county appraises it at $120,000 for tax purposes while your insurance company will only cover it for $75,000. You drive your brand-new car off the lot, and its value immediately plummets. The appraisal game seems rigged, doesn't it? The issue isn't just with property and possessions. We play this same game with people—including ourselves. We have our own appraisal, and then there's everyone else's. The challenge lies in finding the "true value"—that agreed-upon worth that both parties can accept. But here's where it gets spiritually dangerous: we often undervalue ourselves while simultaneously judging others harshly. Or we do the opposite, thinking more highly of ourselves than we ought while dismissing the worth of those around us.

Fresh Paint And Rotted Wood:
There's a powerful truth hidden in a simple home improvement analogy. When you put fresh paint on rotted wood, the wood is still rotten underneath. The paint job might look impressive, but the foundation remains compromised. How often do we do this spiritually? We clean up the outside while leaving the inside untouched. We present a polished version of ourselves to the world while hiding our struggles, our doubts, our messy reality. Jesus confronted this very issue with the Pharisees, telling them they washed the outside of the cup while the inside remained filthy. It's the classic case of the car that looks pristine on the outside until you open the door and bottles, trash, and chaos tumble out.

Freedom Without Wisdom:
First Corinthians 8:9 warns us about a subtle trap: "But you must be careful that your freedom does not cause others with a weaker conscience to stumble." When we experience freedom in Christ, when we grow in our relationship with God and gain spiritual knowledge, we face a temptation. We can become so confident in our liberty that we forget about those still struggling. We can become so "free" that we actually cause others to stumble. The scripture reminds us that just because we have the freedom to do something doesn't mean we should. Not everything is beneficial. Our spiritual maturity shouldn't become a stumbling block for others who are still finding their way.

Reality Check:
Galatians 6:1-5 delivers a sobering message: "If you think you are too important to help someone, you are only fooling yourself. You are not that important." That's not a gentle suggestion—it's a reality check. When we elevate ourselves, when we think we've arrived spiritually, when we believe we're too advanced to relate to those struggling with basic issues, we've lost our way. The passage continues with crucial instruction: "Pay careful attention to your own work, for then you will get the satisfaction of a job well done, and you won't need to compare yourself to anyone else." Stop comparing. Stop judging. Focus on your own conduct and your own relationship with God.

Extension Cord Reality:
Sometimes others look at our lives and see wealth, success, or spiritual maturity that we know doesn't exist. They see the house but not the extension cords running through the rooms because the wiring hasn't been updated. They see the exterior but not the foundation issues lurking beneath. Conversely, we often look at others and make snap judgments based on appearances, never knowing the battles they're fighting behind closed doors. The truth? We're all works in progress. We all have areas where the paint is fresh but the wood needs replacing. We all have rooms we don't want anyone to see.

More Highly Than You Ought:
Romans 12:1-3 calls us to worship God with our whole lives, but it includes this warning: "Don't think you are better than you really are." This is the heart of the matter. We must resist two equally dangerous temptations: First, undervaluing ourselves to the point where we don't recognize the gifts, talents, and worth God has placed within us. When we constantly diminish ourselves, we fail to step into the calling God has for our lives. Second, overvaluing ourselves to the point where we become arrogant, unteachable, and unable to relate to those who need our help. When we think we've mastered the Christian life, we've actually disqualified ourselves from genuine ministry.

Temple Reality:
First Corinthians 3:16 reminds us: "Don't you realize that all of you together are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God lives in you?" This changes everything about appraisal. You are not just a collection of successes and failures, strengths and weaknesses. You are a temple—a dwelling place for the Holy Spirit. When God appraises you, He's not looking at surface-level achievements or comparing you to others. He's looking at your heart, your intentions, your willingness to be transformed.

An Honest Appraisal:
Can you give yourself an honest appraisal? Not one that's overly harsh or falsely humble, but one rooted in the truth of who God says you are? Can you extend that same honest, grace-filled appraisal to others? Can you look past their faults and see their potential? Can you recognize their struggles without judgment? The truth is, our best intentions often fail because we don't follow through. We think about doing good things, and in our minds, we've already accomplished them. Meanwhile, we judge others for not measuring up to standards we ourselves haven't met. First Corinthians 3:21-23 offers this stunning declaration: "Everything belongs to you...and you belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God." When you understand your identity as a child of God, you stop worrying about following human leaders or comparing yourself to others. You recognize that you have access to everything you need through Christ. But this privilege comes with responsibility. You're called to live worthy of that identity—not through  perfection, but through authenticity, humility, and a willingness to grow. So now we must stop undervaluing what God has placed within you. Stop overvaluing your spiritual maturity while dismissing others. Stop painting over rotten wood and calling it renovation. Instead, allow God to do the deep work. Let Him replace what needs replacing, restore what's broken, and reveal the true value He's always seen in you.
You are the temple of God. Live like it matters.

Understanding Your Covenant:
The Power of Knowing What's Rightfully Yours
Have you ever agreed to something without fully understanding what you were signing up for? Maybe you clicked "I agree" on a terms and conditions page without reading it, or perhaps you entered into a situation only to discover later that you had more rights—or fewer—than you initially thought. There's something transformative that happens when we truly understand the terms of an agreement. Our entire perspective shifts. Our behavior changes. Our confidence grows. And when it comes to our relationship with God, understanding the covenant we have with Him can be the difference between living defeated and living victoriously.
The Knife Story:
Picture this as an 18-year-old, fresh out of high school, I was excited about independence and moving out on my own. I load up a U-Haul trailer with all his belongings and heads down the highway toward his new life. Then get pulled over. The officer claims the hunting knife discovered under the seat is illegal—the blade is too long. The young man protests that he bought it at Walmart, but the officer confiscates it anyway, telling him he'll have to come to court if he wants it back. Frustrated and angry, I return home and tell my father what happened. My dad’s response is rage—but directed at the right target. We immediately drive to the police department, gets a court date, and then does something crucial: we go to the library and researches the weapons code. When court day arrives, my dad demands to see the law that makes the knife illegal. They pull out the code book. They judge and officer measure the blade. And it turns out the knife is two full inches within the legal limit. The lesson? "Never take for granted what people tell you unless you know what the law says. Because if you don't know what the law says, you'll never be able to get what's rightfully yours."

Authority Doesn't Always Equal Truth

This story reveals a profound spiritual principle, just because someone has authority doesn't mean they're always right. The police officer had a badge and a uniform, but he didn't have the truth on his side. How often do we surrender what's rightfully ours simply because someone in a position of authority tells us we can't have it? How many times do we accept defeat, sickness, poverty, or bondage because we don't know what our covenant with God actually says? When you have God as your Father, He will show you what's right. But we have to be willing to do the research—to dig into His Word and discover what He's actually promised us.

The "If" That Changes Everything
Scripture is filled with powerful "if-then" statements that outline the terms of our covenant with God. These aren't restrictions meant to limit us; they're invitations to abundant life. Consider John 11:40: "Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?" The condition is belief. The result is seeing God's glory manifested in your life. Or look at Psalm 91:9-10: "If you make the Most High your dwelling—even the Lord, who is my refuge—then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent." When God becomes our dwelling place—not just a storage shed we visit occasionally, but our actual home—we're protected from the disasters that crash into other people's lives. But here's where we struggle: we want to see God's glory without the "ifs." We want the protection without making Him our dwelling place. We want the white picket fence without signing the contract, maintenance or mowing the lawn. Chosen, Called, and Given Right Standing Romans 8:29-31 lays out the progression of our covenant relationship with stunning clarity: "For God knew his people in advance, and he chose them to become like his son so that his son would be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. Having chosen them, he called them to come to him. And having called them, he gave them right standing with himself. And having given them right standing, he gave them his glory. What shall we say about such wonderful things as these? If God is for us, who can ever be against us?"
Read that again slowly. God knew you in advance. He chose you. He called you. He gave you right standing with Himself. And because of that right standing, He gave you His glory. The question "If God is for us, who can ever be against us?" isn't just a motivational slogan for social media. It's a legal declaration based on the covenant terms God established through Jesus Christ. But notice something important: before we can truly live in the reality that God is for us, we must first believe that we are who He says we are—chosen, called, and in right standing.

Understanding Gets You Through Life
Inspiration and motivation might get you through a day or even a week. But understanding will get you through life. Understanding the terms of your covenant with God changes everything. It's the difference between feeling like a victim of circumstances and knowing you're a victor through Christ. It's the difference between begging God for things He's already given you and confidently accessing what's already yours. Think about my father in the knife story. He didn't walk into that courtroom hoping the judge would be merciful. He walked in with knowledge of the law, demanding what was rightfully mine. That's how we should approach life—not hoping God might bless us if we're good enough, but knowing what He's already promised and confidently receiving it.

The Endgame
There's a powerful principle illustrated in a popular superhero movie: a character asks a prophet if he's sure about the outcome of their battle. The prophet responds, "I could tell you the end, but you won't make the same choices if I do." At the beginning of their mission, all the heroes agreed they would win "at any cost." But when things looked darkest, they questioned whether victory was really possible. The prophet knew the end—they would win—but revealing it would have changed the decisions they needed to make along the way. This is exactly where we often find ourselves spiritually. All hell is breaking loose around us, and we're asking God, "Are you sure you saw me victorious? Are you sure you saw me healed? Are you sure you saw me prosperous? Because it doesn't look like it right now." And God responds, "If I tell you exactly how this ends, you won't make the same decisions. You won't develop the same character. You won't learn what you need to learn." When Jesus went to the cross, God said, "At any cost." The victory was already secured. We just have to walk it out.

Don't Surrender What's Rightfully Yours
The challenge is simple but profound: don't get caught up in religious traditions or what you think the covenant says. Go read it for yourself. Study the New Testament. Discover what Jesus actually purchased for you on the cross. You might be surprised to find you have more than you thought. Like discovering your insurance actually covers something you've been paying out of pocket for, understanding your covenant reveals benefits you never knew existed. Stop letting people with authority take what's rightfully yours simply because you don't know what the law says. Your Father knows the terms of the agreement, and He's ready to stand with you to ensure you receive everything He promised. You are chosen. You are called. You are in right standing with God. And if God is for you—and He is—then it doesn't matter who or what is against you. That's not just motivation. That's covenant truth. And when you truly understand it, everything changes.

Hating To Love, When Love Meets Reality:
Raising four children, working with a ton of students for 20 years and now having 11 grandchildren, there's a profound collision that happens in every parent's life—the moment when your children stop being extensions of your will and become individuals with their own choices. For me it was terrifying yet beautiful in a way. And for those of us who claim to follow Christ, it reveals something uncomfortable about the way we've been loving all along.

Conditional Love Crisis:
Imagine watching someone you love more than life itself make decisions that terrify you. Decisions that, according to everything you've been taught about faith and eternity, are leading them down a dangerous path. Your instinct is to protect, to correct, to redirect. You pray harder. You set boundaries. You enforce rules. All in the name of love. But what if that kind of love isn't really love at all?
This is the uncomfortable truth many of us must face: we've been loving people with a religious love—a love bound by conditions, restrictions, and requirements. We love people when they make choices we approve of. We love them when they're heading in the right direction. We love them when they fit within our understanding of what's acceptable.
But can we love them when they don't?
Here's a question that might shake you to your core: Can you love someone even if they choose a path that leads to death and destruction?
It sounds almost heretical to ask. Our immediate response is, "Yes” but if they choose wrong in our sight, we can kick-in to manipulation and restrict them or even cut them off to prove a point. We say to ourselves and others, “I love them too much to let them go there!" But consider this: God allowed His own Son to descend into hell. He turned His face away from Jesus on the cross because Christ had become sin itself. Yet it was love—perfect, divine love—that made that possible. The challenge isn't whether we care about people's eternal destinations. The challenge is whether we can love them regardless of their choices and final destinations.

Layers of Love:
Ancient Greeks understood something we often miss: there are different types of love, and not all of them reflect God's heart.
Storge is family love—the natural affection between parents and children, siblings and relatives. It's beautiful, but it's also limited. It wants what's best, but it can become controlling.
Phileo is friendship love—the bond between close companions. Philadelphia, the "city of brotherly love," takes its name from this word. It's the love that makes us loyal, but it can also be conditional on reciprocation.
Eros is romantic or sensual love—the passion we feel for people or things that give us pleasure. It's the reason we say we "love" our favorite song or device. It's driven by what we receive.
But then there's Agape—God's love, complete and unconditional. This is the game-changer

It Costs Everything and Demands Nothing:
First Corinthians 13 isn't just a beautiful passage read at weddings. It's a mirror that reveals how far we fall short of genuine love. Read it again, but this time, substitute "God" for "love":
God is patient and kind. God is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. He does not demand His own way. He is not irritable and keeps no record of being wronged. He does not rejoice about injustice, but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. God never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful and endures through every circumstance. This is the standard. This is what it means to love like God loves. And here's the uncomfortable truth: this kind of love costs us everything and demands nothing from the person we're loving.

Christian or Disciple:
There's a difference between being a Christian and being a disciple. Christians often love based on theology, doctrine, and fear of hell. We love people in order to save them. We love them with an agenda. Disciples love people simply because they are people created by God. First John 4:7-10 makes this clear: "Dear friends, let us continue to love one another for love comes from God. Anyone who loves is a child of God and knows God. But anyone who does not love does not know God, for God is love." Notice the logic here: If you don't love, you don't know God. Not because you haven't studied enough scripture or attended enough services, but because God IS love. To know Him is to love like Him.

Will They See God:
Here's a truth that might make you uncomfortable: The only way most people will ever experience God's love is through their experience of you. Think about that for a moment. The person checking out your groceries, the difficult coworker, the family member making choices you can't support—they won't experience God's love through your words about God. They'll experience it through how you treat them. We want people to get saved so they can experience God's love. But the biblical model is the opposite: we love them with God's love, and through that experience, they encounter Him. Christians often have prerequisites when loving someone they invest time, energy and money into.

The Practice of Divine Love:
So what does this look like practically? It means loving people past their decisions—good or bad. It means your affection doesn't fluctuate based on their choices. It means you can look someone in the eye who is making destructive decisions and genuinely say, "I don't agree with what you're doing, but I love you completely." It means your words match your actions. You can't say "I love you" and then treat someone with contempt, criticism, or condescension. Love isn't just declared; it's demonstrated. It means loving the person, not their behavior. Not their potential. Not who they could become if they just got their act together. But who they are right now, in this moment, in their mess.

The Cost vs. Reward:
This kind of love is expensive. It costs you time, emotional energy, mental space, and sometimes resources. It requires you to set aside your need to be right, your desire to manipulate and control outcomes, your fear of what might happen. But here's the crazy paradox: the more you love this way, the more capacity you have to love. God doesn't give you resources you won't steward well, but when you steward His love properly—pouring it out on others without expecting anything in return—He multiplies it. You'll find yourself with more time, more peace, more joy, and more impact than you ever had when you were trying to love people into compliance. The truth is, we often love strangers better than we love the people we know, because strangers haven't disappointed us yet. But God knows everything about us—every failure, every rebellion, every selfish choice—and He loves us completely. If His Spirit lives in us, we can do the same. This is what it means to “Hating to Love”—to resist our natural inclination toward conditional affection and choose instead the costly, uncomfortable, transformative love of God. It's the hardest choice a disciple can make. And it's the only choice that truly changes the world.
The Challenge:
Ask yourself these questions:
Who do I say I love? How do I actually love them? Can I love them past my relationship with them? Can I love them past their decisions? Can I love them past my influence in their lives?
How can I "God" them—show them who God is through how I treat them?

Understanding Our Foundation:
Have you ever stopped to consider how much of what you believe about the Bible comes from what you were told as a child? Perhaps you learned that it's "God's Word" or heard the classic Sunday school song, "The B-I-B-L-E, yes, that's the book for me." These foundational truths aren't wrong, but they're often incomplete—like explaining to a toddler where babies come from versus having that conversation with a teenager or medical student. The reality is that many believers operate with a children's church understanding of Scripture, and this creates a significant problem when engaging with people who are hurt, angry, or disillusioned with the church. When someone is wrestling with deep questions or painful experiences, responding with simplistic spiritual platitudes feels dismissive—like offering a tuna fish sandwich to someone who hates tuna, no matter how you dress it up.

People We're Called to Reach:
There's a specific group of people who desperately need authentic engagement: those who've left the church. Not the "unsaved" that many churches traditionally target, but the wounded, the offended, the ones who walked away from faith communities for legitimate reasons. These individuals don't need another Bible verse thrown at them—they need understanding, knowledge, and genuine connection. To effectively reach this group, we need to move beyond surface-level spirituality and develop a robust understanding of what we claim to believe. As Mark Twain astutely observed, "It's not the parts of the Bible that I cannot understand that bother me. It's the parts of the Bible that I do understand that bother me." Think about that. We don't struggle with the miraculous—virgin birth, creation, resurrection. We struggle with forgiveness, loving our enemies, and living out the practical commands of Scripture. The disconnect between knowledge and application is where many lose faith.

Real Bible Facts:
The Bible we carry today has a fascinating and often unknown history. Consider these facts that might challenge your assumptions: The Bible is actually a library or collection of letters and books, not just a single book. It contains 66 books written by 35-40 different authors over approximately 1,500 years. Even more surprising, we don't actually know who wrote some books—Hebrews, Judges, and Ruth all have uncertain authorship. Jesus never wrote a single word of Scripture. He is the Word, but He didn't write the Word. Neither Jesus, His disciples, nor Paul used "the Bible" as we know it to preach the gospel, because it didn't exist in compiled form during their lifetimes. Chapters and verses weren't original. Between 1227 and 1555 AD, scholars added these divisions to make navigation easier. The original texts were continuous, flowing documents without the reference points we depend on today. The Bible wasn't originally one language. The Old Testament was written primarily in Hebrew and Aramaic, while the New Testament was written primary in Greek. Every translation we read today is an interpretation of these ancient languages. Perhaps most shocking: The Bible is the only religious text that proclaims itself to be the Word of God. No other major religious writing makes this claim. Yet even non-Christian religions recognize the Bible as the foundation of Christian faith.

The Dark Ages:
For a thousand years—from about 400 AD to 1400 AD—the Bible was essentially inaccessible to common people. During this period known as the Dark Ages, the Catholic Church maintained such control that possessing a Bible in any language other than Latin was punishable by death. Only clergy could own Scriptures, creating a monopoly on spiritual knowledge and power. Why would the church restrict access to God's Word? Because knowledge is power. When people can read Scripture for themselves, they can't be manipulated or controlled as easily. During this dark millennium, a secret society called the Colbys operated underground, teaching the Latin Bible to small groups of disciples. This continued for 700 years until the Reformation began breaking open access to Scripture. John Wycliffe was the first to translate the Bible into English in the late 1300s. For this "heresy," he was hunted. His disciple, John Hus, distributed these “English Bibles” to common people and eventually was captured and burned at the stake. The fuel for his execution fire? Wycliffe's translated Bibles. As the flames consumed him, Hus prophesied: "In the next hundred years, God will raise up a man whose call to reform cannot be suppressed." Almost exactly 100 years later, Martin Luther emerged. This bold reformer wrote his 95 Theses documenting the Catholic Church's heresies and literally nailed them to the church door—essentially picking a fight that would change Christianity forever. Luther translated the Bible into German and used the newly invented printing press to mass-produce Scriptures, breaking the church's stranglehold on God's Word. William Tyndale printed the first English Bible in 1526. He was arrested, imprisoned for 500 days, and then burned at the stake. His final words were a prayer: "O Lord, open the eyes of the king of England." Three years later, King Henry VIII began supporting and printing Bibles—a direct answer to a dying man's prayer.

Persecution to Pocket:
Think about this journey: people died horrific deaths just to translate and distribute the Bible. They were hunted, imprisoned, and executed for doing what we do thoughtlessly every day—access Scripture. Today, we have the Bible on our phones. We have dozens of translations at our fingertips. We can search any topic, cross-reference any verse, and access thousands of years of biblical scholarship with a few taps.
Yet how engaged are we? We don't need more access to the Bible—we need more engagement with it. We can quote movie lines and song lyrics because we're engaged with that content. But when it comes to Scripture, many believers remain surface-level, equipped only with childhood understanding.

Beyond Children's Church:
When someone is hurt and questions their faith, they don't need platitudes. They need depth. They need someone who has wrestled with Scripture, who understands its complexity and history, who can engage intellectually while remaining spiritually grounded. You can be deeply spiritual and highly knowledgeable. These aren't opposing qualities—they're complementary. Just as you wouldn't dismiss medical knowledge while praying for healing (you pray AND wait for test results), you shouldn't separate spiritual truth from intellectual understanding. The Bible has survived millennia of opposition, persecution, and suppression. As John 1:1 declares, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." God's Word prevails regardless of human attempts to control or destroy it.

What's Ahead Foundationally:
Understanding the Bible's history, composition, and journey to our hands creates appreciation and removes fear from difficult conversations. When someone challenges Scripture's reliability or questions its contradictions (which are actually differences in perspective, not contradictions), you can respond with confidence rather than defensiveness. The Bible contains no actual contradictions—only differences in viewpoint, translation, or cultural context. When challenged, simply ask: "Can you show me the specific contradiction? Chapter and verse?" Most cannot, because they're repeating what they've heard rather than what they've investigated. This foundation matters because the people we're called to reach—the hurt, the angry, the disillusioned—often know more about biblical criticism than believers know about biblical truth. They've done their research, often looking for reasons to justify their departure from faith. We cannot win them back with simplistic answers to complex questions. We need depth, understanding, and the willingness to engage both spiritually and intellectually. The Bible is life. Hold onto it with everything you have. But remember: when ministering to someone who's wounded, they don't want your life jacket just because you're holding it. They need to see the life it produces in you, demonstrated through understanding, compassion, and authentic engagement.
The foundation is set. Now it's time to build on it.

When "My Bad" Isn't Enough:
We live in a culture of nonchalant. apologies. "My bad." "Oops, sorry." or "I made a mistake." These phrases roll off our tongues with practiced ease, smoothing over our missteps like a quick coat of paint over a crack in the wall. But what if the very language we use to address our wrongdoings is keeping us from genuine repentance and heart transformation?

The Mistaker: 
Picture this: My wife and I planned a backyard “camp out night” for our younger grandchildren. Everything is going well throughout the evening with hotdogs, smores and activities. After getting all the kids into tents and sleeping bags for the night. I found myself on my laptop doing digital work late that evening while the kids slept. Fast forward and unexcepted storm rolls in. It turns into a rainy night, and in the chaos of gathering sleepy grandchildren from backyard tents, a laptop gets left on an outdoor table. At 4 AM, the realization hits—that laptop spent hours in the downpour. Water literally pours out when I picked it up. "My bad," we say. "I made a mistake." And it's true. That genuinely was a mistake—unintentional, unplanned, an accidental in the midst of caring for the grandchildren.
But here's where things get complicated: Have we become so comfortable with the language of mistakes that we apply it to everything. We use the same phrase for accidentally leaving a laptop in the rain that we use for deliberately hurting someone, for calculated deception, for intentional selfishness. A mistake happens when your GPS says left but you turn right. A mistake is writing the wrong date on a document. A mistake is unintentional, unexpected, without malice or forethought.
But when we plan things in our minds, rehearse it mentally and emotionally, and then execute it for our own benefit—regardless of who it hurts—that's not a mistake. That's something else entirely.

The Word We Don't Want to Use
Sin, the one we word we associate with smoking, drinking and cussing There it is. The word that makes modern Christianity squirm. It feels heavy, judgmental, outdated, socially unacceptable. Nobody wants to be called a sinner. We'd much rather be “mistakers”. After all, mistakes are friendly. Mistakes are forgivable without much cost. Mistakes don't require deep soul-searching or genuine accountability. When a child breaks something, we tell them to say sorry, give a hug, and move on. We've trained ourselves to treat all wrongdoing in life this way. But sin is different. Sin is intentional. Sin is planned. Sin is 100% thought out before we ever act on it. When someone has an affair that lasts six months, that's not a mistake. When we deliberately misuse someone's trust for our own benefit, that's not a mistake. When we lie, manipulate, or scheme—even in small ways—we're not making mistakes. We're sinning and its all planned and perfectly orchestrated.

Sin’s Anatomy
Consider what sin actually looks like when we break it down: Selfishness, Independence, Narcissism. We sin because we're being selfish—putting our desires above others' wellbeing. We sin because we want independence from God and from the people who care about us. We sin because we're being narcissistic—making everything about us. All those "sins" we typically think of—drinking, smoking, lying, stealing, adultery—they're not the root problem. They're symptoms. They're byproducts of selfishness, independence, and narcissism. When we only address the symptoms without dealing with the disease, we're like a doctor prescribing pain medication for an infection instead of antibiotics. We numb the pain, but we don't heal the problem.

Religious Trap
Jesus had strong words for the religious leaders of His day. In Matthew 23, He called out the teachers of religious law and the Pharisees with devastating accuracy: "You are careful to tithe even the tiniest income from your herb gardens, but you ignore the more important aspects of the law—justice, mercy, and faith. "He continued: "You are like whitewashed tombs—beautiful on the outside but filled on the inside with dead people's bones and all sorts of impurity." “Ouch”. The problem wasn't that they were following rules. The problem was that they were meticulously managing their external behavior while their hearts remained "filled with hypocrisy and lawlessness"—or as we might say, filled with selfishness, independence, and narcissism. We can fall into the same trap today. We show up to church, we serve and give our tithes, we say the right things. But inside, we're plotting. We're scheming. We're thinking about how to benefit ourselves, how to get what we want, how to position ourselves advantageously—even if it costs others. And when we get caught? "My bad. I made a mistake."

Righteousness
Romans 3:23-24 tells us: "For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God's glorious standard. Yet God, in his grace, freely makes us right in his sight. He did this through Christ Jesus when he freed us from the penalty for our sins." Here's the beautiful truth: While we were still selfish, still independent, still narcissistic, Jesus died for us. He didn't die because we occasionally made honest mistakes. He died because we're sinners who need redemption. But here's what many miss: We can't experience the fullness of that redemption if we won't own our sin. God can't forgive what we won't acknowledge. James 5:16 instructs us: "Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results." Notice the connection? Confession leads to healing. Confession leads to powerful, effective prayer. But we skip right over the confession part because it's uncomfortable. We want to be "the righteousness of Christ Jesus" without the humbling work of acknowledging our selfishness. We want our prayers to "availeth much" without confessing to one another. We want the power without the vulnerability.

True Confession
Real confession doesn't sound like: "Hey, I made a mistake yesterday."
Real confession sounds like: "I lied to you on purpose because I was thinking about myself, not you."
Real confession sounds like: "I was late because I wasn't considering how that would affect you. I was being selfish."
Real confession sounds like: "I took that because I wanted it, and I didn't care that it wasn't mine."
That's uncomfortable. That's vulnerable. That makes us look bad. But that's also what leads to genuine transformation. The Apostle Paul, who wrote most of the New Testament, said in 1 Timothy 1:15: "This is a trustworthy saying, and everyone should accept it: 'Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners'—of whom I am the worst." Paul—who lived sacrificially, who suffered for the Gospel, who loved others deeply—called himself the worst of sinners. Why? Because he understood what was happening in his heart and mind, even when his actions looked righteous. He knew his internal battles with selfishness, independence, and narcissism. He knew what all he had done before being converted and experienced salvation.

The Difference It Makes
Without conviction, there's no true repentance. Without repentance, there's no genuine conversion. When we own our sin—truly own it—we experience God's faithfulness to forgive. We grow in our relationship with Him. We become more patient with others because we recognize our own desperate need for grace and mercy. When we merely acknowledge mistakes, we stay stuck. We repeat the same patterns. We hurt the same people in the same ways. We wonder why our spiritual lives feel stagnant. The reality is this: Jesus didn't go to the cross for mistakers. He went to the cross for sinners. And until we're willing to identify ourselves as such—until we're willing to own our selfishness, our independence, our narcissism—we can't fully embrace the redemption He offers.
Practice 
So practically what does this look like? It means when we hurt someone, we don't just say, "Sorry, my bad." “I made a mistake.” We acknowledge: "I did that on purpose. I was thinking about myself, not you. I was wrong. Will you forgive me?" It means confessing not just to God in private, but to one another—being vulnerable about our struggles, our temptations, our failures. It means recognizing that when we know what we ought to do and don't do it—as James 4:17 tells us—that's sin, not a mistake. It means embracing the discomfort of true accountability because that's where real growth happens. The question isn't whether we've messed up. We all have. Romans 3:23 makes that clear. The question is whether we'll own it honestly or hide behind the comfortable language of mistakes. Because on the other side of that honest acknowledgment is something beautiful: genuine forgiveness, authentic transformation, and a deeper relationship with the God who loves us enough to die for sinners—not “mistakers”.