We’ve all felt the pull to add one more pious act—fast a little longer, pray a little harder—convinced the right combination will finally make us right before God. In Matthew 9, John’s disciples bring that same assumption directly to Jesus, and his answer reframes not just the practice of fasting but the question of what season we’re actually living in.
Solomon, Rehoboam, and Jeroboam all treated God’s promises like something they could improve on or control on their own terms only to encounter the pavement courtesy of the black ice of sin. Our efforts end like that, but God’s faithfulness outlasts our failures.
A folding map only works if you already know where you are. Enough wrong turns, and you're stuck staring at it with no idea how to find yourself—let alone get back on course. Psalm 89 asks what God's promises do for those of us who aren't the Hannahs and Davids, who look at the map and go the wrong way.
We can miss the more urgent thing because we get distracted by the immediate. As we begin exploring John 5, Jesus encourages us not to miss what’s truly important.
What does the righteousness God wants in us really look like?
Wisdom isn’t something meant to get on and off of. So do we want on?
Proverbs challenges us to be aware of where we are leaving the gracious confines of God’s way. The trouble for us is that we don’t even notice as we wander.
Pharmaceutical commercials fill the screen with daisy fields and frolicking joy so you’ll tune out the side effects. Are God’s Commandments filled with killer side effects, too?
When you’re in a wilderness season—the kind that doesn’t feel like a season at all—the doubt that creeps in isn’t usually about theology; it’s simpler and sharper than that: *Is God really with me?* That’s precisely the question hanging over Exodus 3, where God meets Moses in the wilderness and answers it not with reassurance alone, but with His name.
