
We know the word fool, but do we recognize who the fools are? Do we recognize when we’re the one playing the fool? Psalm 14 helps us better understand real foolishness.
A vaccination can leave you feeling wretched for a week, tempting you to wish you could undo it and try again later. That’s the kind of pressure that hits when the gospel goes out in Acts 14—Paul and Barnabas meet rising opposition in Iconium, and the question becomes how we press ahead without quitting or compromising.
We’re always drawn to the new and the shiny. In Genesis 3, the serpent made the one tree God forbade look irresistable. Wouldn’t it be nice if everything we shouldn’t do just clearly didn’t look right?
Waiting is hard—praying for years with silence the only reply, watching others move while you stand still, wondering if God has forgotten or if you took a wrong turn. That was Isaac in Genesis 25: married at forty, still childless nearly twenty years later, the promise hanging unfinished. What do we do in the long stretch when nothing seems to move?
We keep wanting peace now—the right circumstances, the right outcome, the right person in charge—and that hunger is not wrong, just misdirected. In Luke 19:41–44, Jesus weeps over a city shouting for peace while blind to the only kind that lasts, and his tears raise an uncomfortable question about what we’re actually seeking when we seek it.
Bold faith can feel clearest in a crisis; the harder question is how to live when the rush is over and ordinary life must begin again. Matthew 2:19–23 meets Joseph at precisely that point: Herod is dead, God calls his family home from Egypt, and the road ahead still demands careful listening. What does faithfulness look like when obedience is clear, but the next step is not?
We have a hard time listening to God. A phone vibrates, a mind runs off, and even when nothing interrupts we still lose the thread. The wise men of Matthew 2 trusted His word enough to travel months toward a king they couldn’t yet see—can we listen and trust Him when our own picture still looks unfinished?
We can hear God’s Word, begin moving in the right direction, and still stop short when the journey lasts longer than expected. In Matthew 2, the wise men do not settle for reaching Jerusalem; they keep following God’s leading toward Bethlehem, raising a searching question for us: What will we do when obedience requires another step?
The decorations come down, the calendar turns, and Christmas recedes into memory—but Matthew 2 insists there’s something that doesn’t go out of season. And if the Gospel doesn’t go out of season, are we keeping ourselves focused on where it is pointing us?
Jesus warns in Matthew 7 that the most dangerous kind of false teaching comes from one dressed like a sheep. By the time you realize there’s a wolf underneath, it’s frighteningly close. How do we keep alert when such sounds deceptively good?