A church can be grown with business strategies. A service can be designed with excellence. A sermon can be preached with eloquence. But none of those require the Spirit. None of those need a living God. If it can be done without Him, it should not be done at all (John 15:5; Psalm 127:1)  Read More

We are now witnessing a quiet crisis in churches across the world—those who once stood on stages with confidence have disappeared behind curtains of confusion and disillusionment. They “felt called.” They were platformed early. They were handed microphones, titles, and trust. But somewhere along the line, they tapped out. The weight was too much. The warfare was unexpected. The yoke that was supposed to be “easy” felt unbearable, because it had never truly been given by Christ.  Read More

The urge to act early is not valor; it is presumption. Holiness has its own timeline. To leave before the process is complete is to die by judgment, not neglect. Jesus did not minister before His time (John 7:30). He did not act on zeal. He waited. Every moment, every miracle, every move, submitted to the hour set by the Father. He did not fill His own hands. He was given the cup, and He drank it.  Read More

God’s holiness has not changed. The cross has not diminished it; it has made a way for us to enter it without perishing. That access should provoke more reverence, not less. More awe, not apathy. If we truly believe Jesus bore the fire of God’s wrath for us, how can we treat worship as casual?  Read More

We like our gods soft these days. Accessible, affirming, approachable—preferably filtered through the lens of modern sentiment. “God is love,” we say, not as a deep theological anchor, but as a gentle, saccharine sigh of relief. He understands. He sees. He smiles. And perhaps, in some imagined corner of heaven, He even shrugs. But what if the God we are so quick to make palatable has, in fact, not changed at all?  Read More

The fragility of their frame is not in the honesty itself but in their refusal to be wrong, their quiet conviction that truth must be agreeable to be true. So they twist the knife the other way, accusing honesty of cruelty, and the one who dares to speak it of arrogance, or worse—unkindness.   Read More

There is a strange irony that often lingers beneath the surface of our most well-meaning Christian communities—one we rarely confront, but often accommodate. It creeps into discipleship under the guise of kindness, weaves its way through sermons cloaked in therapeutic jargon, and quietly reshapes the definition of love until confrontation feels cruel and correction, abusive.  Read More

Have you noticed how often Scripture leaves people unnamed? The woman with the alabaster jar. The man born blind. The thief on the cross. The widow with two mites. The woman at the well. No carefully curated list of “who I am.” Just fragments. Encounters. Moments of divine interruption. And that was enough. Their names are not forgotten because they are unimportant. Their names are forgotten because they were never the point.  Read More

There is a deep and relentless ache within the human soul—a yearning that propels men to etch their names into stone, to chase the ever-fading applause, to strain toward the assurance that they matter. This is no mere cultural impulse but an ancient cry, echoing from Babel to the latest viral post. We are creatures who long to be seen, known, and remembered. And yet, here is the paradox: the more fiercely we grasp for significance through self-exaltation, the more elusive it becomes.  Read More

There is a kind of offense that screams, and there is a kind that whispers. The loud ones are easier to spot. But the quiet ones—they sit next to us. They send kind emails with barbed undertones. They lead ministries while nursing private judgments. They say, “I’m fine,” while keeping a record of every perceived slight.   Read More

The words of Jesus in Luke 15 are scandalous in their simplicity: “What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine... and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it?” (Luke 15:4, ESV). He does not wait for the sheep to wander back. He does not sit in the safety of the flock and mourn the one who left. He goes after it.  Read More

The church likes its heroes tidy. We like our narratives linear. We prefer Paul the trailblazer, Barnabas the encourager, Mark the gospel-writer. But when they collide—when a young man deserts his calling, when two apostles can no longer walk together, when the mission itself gets divided—we squint and shift and move quickly along.  Read More