Tag: hope

A PROVEN RECIPE FOR PEACE

Gary Pollard

Peace conjures a number of different images in our minds; from hippies to nature’s beauty to inner calm to lack of anxiety. Nearly every group of people in the world craves peace – no rational human being wants to live in constant upheaval. We all want to have peace, but our world somehow is still getting worse and worse. Why is this? The prince of this world is not a being who desires peace (II Corinthians 4.4; Ephesians 2.2; John 12.31). His very existence is dedicated to bringing down anyone who believes in God (I Peter 5:8) and he has no care or concern for the fate or well-being of anyone on this earth. Total, lasting world peace will never be possible as long as time continues (see Romans 8.18-25: sin caused the earth to be subjected to futility). 

Total, lasting world peace may not be possible in this life, but this does not mean the world cannot experience any peace at all. How can we experience peace in our lives? 

Firstly, it has to come from us. The world will never act in a way that brings peace. Anytime the world wishes to better its conditions, it incites civil unrest, riots, protests, and other not-very-peaceful behaviors. Christians, however, are called to be different. I Timothy 2.1ff tells us that praying to God on behalf of all men, for kings, and all who are in authority will allow us to lead quiet and tranquil lives in all godliness and dignity. We can have peace by being obedient to government authorities – even if we do not agree with them politically – because God put them in place (Romans 13). If we want peace, we have to show that peace by how we live. Since man is naturally attracted to peace, our quiet, godly lives will draw others to Christ. 

Secondly, even if our world is in chaos we can have inner peace. Philippians was written to break up a nasty fight between Euodia and Syntyche. To have the “peace beyond what we can understand,” they had to rejoice in the Lord, be reasonable, not be anxious, and reach out to God for their every need. The same applies to us today! Do we get our joy from God or from worldly pursuits? Are we worried about meeting personal needs or do we rely on God (see Phil. 4.19; Matt. 6.25)? Do we try to fix our own problems, relying on our own strength, or do we place them in God’s hands and work with His guidance and providence? The Christian life is not easy, nor is it always peaceful, but the inner peace that a faithful Christian experiences, knowing that their name is in the book of life and that nothing in this short life can disrupt God’s love for them, makes every struggle in this life worth the pain. 

If we want peace, we have to be that peace. We have to live peaceful lives. We have to submit to governing authorities (as long as it is within the parameters of godliness). We have to be unified as a church. We have to look to God for all of our needs. We have to trust that He will take care of us, even if that isn’t in this life. If we can do these things, we will have peace.

Pointless Baggage

Dale Pollard

On Paul’s third missionary journey he would write to a congregation in Rome. Today this letter is viewed as sone of the most theologically deep books in our New Testament. Some think that there are portions of Scripture that are best left alone, or that only a preacher or Bible teacher can decipher the “code.” When we do some digging into the original audience that Paul was writing to, we see something interesting. He was delivering these deep theological concepts to a church that seemed to be largely lacking in spiritual knowledge. In fact, some of the members of this 1st-century church believed that God was glorified through their sins! Clearly they had some growing to do. Paul didn’t say they needed to stick with simple Christian concepts or the basics; he still tries to teach them the difficult and more complicated aspects of Christianity.

This is a call for us to challenge ourselves in our daily studies. The Bible was meant to be understood, but that doesn’t mean that it won’t take some effort on our part. The book of Romans is a rewarding book to study. In fact, it’s difficult to find another book that can give the Christian more joy and confidence in their salvation. In Romans 8:1, Paul writes, “There is therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” At first glance this may just be a verse that many skim past because of how familiar we are with it. When we study the application of such a simple verse, in context, the benefits are incredible.

There’s no need to agonize over our relationship with Christ, if we’re in Christ. Paul simplifies our salvation by telling us that if we have obeyed the gospel and we’re striving to follow Jesus, we don’t have to live in fear of our standing before God. In fact, this phrase, “in Christ,” appears 172 times in the New Testament, but it’s a phrase that is largely misunderstood. Some Christians believe that through the course of their week they bounce from “saved” to “lost” on a daily basis. The idea of being “in” Christ is really describing a spiritual union— much like marriage! You don’t wake up everyday and ask your spouse,  “Are we still married?” and then worry throughout the day that despite your spouse’s confirmation, you’re just not convinced that you’re really married to them. If we haven’t done anything to separate that union with Christ, we can live confidently knowing we are saved.

What a wonderful feeling. The book of Romans is one that helps us to let of any pointless baggage and live a life of peace and joy. 

The Man Who Left His Clothes Behind

Carl Pollard

There’s a strange detail buried in the story of Jesus’ arrest. Mark 14:51–52 says, “And a young man followed him, with nothing but a linen cloth about his body. And they seized him, but he left the linen cloth and ran away naked.”

And then…he disappears. No name. No explanation. A young man sprinting into the darkness without his clothes. My question is why would Mark include that?

We can’t know for certain who the young man was. Some have suggested that it may have been Mark himself. That’s possible, but the text never identifies him.

What we do know is that Mark has placed this bizarre moment immediately after one of the saddest statements in his Gospel, “And they all left him and fled.” Mark 14:50

Jesus had spent years surrounded by people. Crowds followed Him. Disciples traveled with Him. Peter had just promised, “If I must die with you, I will not deny you.” Then the soldiers arrived and suddenly, following Jesus became dangerous. And everybody ran! 

Mark seems almost determined to show us how complete the abandonment was. Even this unnamed young man was so desperate to escape that when they grabbed his clothing, he chose to lose the clothing rather than stay with Jesus. He left everything behind (including his dignity) to get away.

There’s another young man later in the Gospel. After Jesus is crucified, several women enter His tomb. Mark 16:5 says, “And entering the tomb, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, dressed in a white robe…”

The first young man is fleeing into the darkness. The second is sitting inside an empty tomb announcing, “He has risen; he is not here.”They aren’t necessarily the same person. In fact, the young man in the tomb most likely an angelic messenger.

But the contrast is pretty cool. In chapter 14, everything looks lost. Jesus is arrested. His followers scatter. A young man runs away exposed and afraid. By chapter 16, everything has changed. The tomb is empty. Death has been defeated. And another young man, now clothed in white, announces victory.

That’s the story of the gospel. Sometimes we judge what God is doing while we’re standing in Mark 14. Everything is dark. Plans have collapsed. People have disappeared. Nothing makes sense.

But the story isn’t over. There’s still a Mark 16 coming. The same Gospel that records a man running terrified into the darkness ends with an empty tomb.

Sometimes the chapter that looks like the end is only three days away from resurrection.

How To Make The Best Of A Bad Situation

Dale Pollard

Rattlesnakes are large, venomous snakes that live throughout North and South America. In my humble opinion, they are one of the most terrifying creatures on the planet–from the hair-raising sound of that rattle to those intimidating fangs that can be up to six inches long. The bite from one of these monsters is excruciatingly painful. If you were to be bitten, at first you would experience a tingling feeling, followed by an intense burning sensation. After this you would feel lightheaded and begin sweating profusely. Your vision would become blurry, and each breath would be more strained than the last one.

If left untreated, it can be fatal to humans. All of that sounds terrible doesn’t it? What good could possibly come from a deadly rattlesnake? Well, at some point in history, somebody looked at these snakes and decided that they would make a beautiful pair of boots. That’s how to make something great, out of something terrible. There is no doubt in my mind that the inventor of snakeskin boots was an optimist. He could see the good, even when staring into the dark vertical pupils of pure reptilian evil.

When faced with hardship, that simply comes from living in a fallen world, it can be a challenge to see the silver lining in each dark cloud. American basketball player, Charles Barkley once said, “Sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel is a train.” That’s definitely how it can feel sometimes! Although we have books in the Bible like Job and James that teach us how we should view our earthly struggles, here are just a few reminders from our God.

Number one, remember that each day is worth rejoicing over. Psalm 118:24 gives us the reason why— because today is another day that the Lord has made. It’s not my day; it’s God’s day. Reminder number two, what we can’t see in times of difficulty, is worth waiting for. Paul would inform us in Romans 8:27, “But if we hope in what we don’t see, we wait for it with patience.” In the muck of life it may feel at times that there’s just no way out. Just because you may not see the end in sight, rest assured that our hope is in a promise that was put in place before time itself began (2 Timothy 1:9). The last reminder is simply this, that God made the world you are living in and Jesus is currently creating the world we will one day live in (John 14:1-3). I firmly believe each day that passes can only mean that heaven will be that much more beautiful. If God created this world in six days, in all it’s beauty, imagine the splendor of our home to come. Now, if that doesn’t make a bad situation a good one, I don’t know what will! Here are the lyrics to an optimistic hymn that I hope get stuck in your head for quite a while.

“I care not today what tomorrow may bring, if shadow or sunshine or rain. The Lord I know ruleth o’er everything, and all of my worry is vain. Living by faith in Jesus above, trusting confiding in His great love. From all harm safe in His sheltering arm, I’m living by faith and feel no alarm.”

The Observations About Self-Righteousness

Neal Pollard

The word “self-righteous” does not appear in scripture.  The dictionary defines the word as “filled with a conviction of being morally superior to others; smugly virtuous.”  That attitude is certainly found and discussed in scripture.  Jesus told a parable “to some who  trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and viewed others with contempt” (Luke 18:9; the NIV has “confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else”).  In Luke 16, Jesus tells the Pharisees, “You are those who justify yourselves in the sight of men” (15).  Much of what Jesus says in Matthew 23 is devoted to confronting the scribes and Pharisees’ feelings of moral superiority.

There are some common traits among the self-righteous.  It is not a question of one’s sincerity or conviction, but of how one behaves under the guise of either.  None of us should want to fall into the category of the self-righteous.

First, the self-righteous often see others’ failings, but not their own.  Such a one could fill a book with what the other one is doing wrong, but spend very little time in meaningful self-examination (cf. 2 Cor. 13:5).  Self-righteousness can display itself in constant criticism or hypercriticism of others.  It is easier to pick apart the actions of others than to be self-aware.  Yet, reminding ourselves that all sin will add humility to the way we handle their perceived faults and flaws.

Also, self-righteousness is not true righteousness.  There is a big difference.  True righteousness can be classified with goodness and truth (Eph. 5:9), but self-righteousness is neither good nor true.  True righteousness is coupled with peace and joy, but self-righteousness works against both (Rom. 14:17).  True righteousness can be mentioned in the same breath with self-control (Acts 24:25), but self-righteousness is often devoid of it.  That is the irony of self-righteousness.  It really is not righteous at all.

Further, self-righteousness is often  a product of pride.  It is often a byproduct of one elevating his or her judgments, opinions, and feelings to the level of law.  One’s own preference can become what all should do.  One’s conviction can become the best or the only way.  If we are not careful, conviction and preference can become self-righteousness.

God wants His people righteous.  There is too much worldliness and embracing of sin among even children of God.  This is unrighteousness and no one should aspire to that.  Yet, let us be careful to place our trust in God’s rather than our own righteousness.

Can I Lose My Salvation

Carl Pollard

That is one of the most important questions a Christian can ask. In this day and age, many believe that once a person is saved, salvation can never be lost. No matter what happens afterward, their eternal destiny is secure.

That sounds comforting. But is it what the Bible teaches?

Scripture definitely teaches that Christians can have confidence in their salvation. John wrote, “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life” (1 John 5:13). We don’t have to live every day terrified that one mistake has erased our salvation.

But confidence isn’t the same as impossibility. The New Testament repeatedly warns Christians about the danger of turning away.

Paul told the Corinthians, “Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall” (1 Corinthians 10:12). You can’t fall from a position you were never in.

In Galatians 5:4, Paul says it even more plainly, “You are severed from Christ…you have fallen away from grace.” Whatever else we say about that verse, Paul clearly believed it was possible for someone connected to Christ and His grace to abandon that relationship.

Peter gives a warning when he describes people who had “escaped the defilements of the world through the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ,” but then became entangled in sin again (2 Peter 2:20–22). Their problem wasn’t that they had never escaped. They went back!

Like a branch connected to a vine, Jesus said, “Abide in me” (John 15:4). Then He warned that if anyone doesn’t abide in Him, “he is thrown away like a branch and withers” (John 15:6). The warning only makes sense if leaving is possible.

Does that mean we should constantly wonder, “Did I sin too much today? Did God stop loving me?” Absolutely not.

Our salvation isn’t so fragile that every stumble destroys our relationship with God. Christians still sin, and “if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us” (1 John 1:9). Peter denied Jesus three times, yet Jesus restored him.

There’s a huge difference between stumbling while following Christ and deciding to stop following Christ.

God isn’t looking for an excuse to keep you out of eternity. He wants you saved. He gave His Son to make salvation possible. But He also refuses to remove our freedom to walk away.

So, can I lose my salvation? Biblically, yes.

But maybe the better question is, am I abiding in Christ? Stay close to Him. Keep walking in the light. When you fall, get back up.

The same Savior who warns us not to leave is the Savior who promises, “Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life” (Revelation 2:10).

Wounds Without a Cause

Brent Pollard

Solomon buries a strange phrase inside a warning about strong drink, and most readers hurry past it.

“Who has woe? Who has sorrow? Who has contentions? Who has complaining? Who has wounds without cause? Who has redness of eyes? Those who linger long over wine…” (Proverbs 23.29–30 NASB95)

Wounds without cause. The phrase arrests me.

Recently, I found myself thinking about those words after developing a painful hematoma. There had been no fall, no bump into a table, no memorable injury. It simply appeared. As someone taking blood thinners, I know there is a medical explanation, even if I cannot point to a particular moment and say, “That is when it happened.” Even so, Solomon’s phrase echoed in my mind for days. Somewhere in my body, a small vessel failed. I never felt it. I only saw the aftermath.

That experience sent me back to the proverb, and the proverb sent me somewhere I did not expect to go.

What Proverbs 23.29–30 Actually Describes

Solomon was not writing about medication or fragile capillaries. He was sketching a portrait of the drunkard who wakes bruised, battered, and unable to account for his injuries. The wounds are not genuinely causeless. The man cannot trace them, because the wine that battered him also stole his judgment, his awareness, and his memory.

Read the end of the chapter, and you hear him speak for himself: “They struck me, but I did not become ill; They beat me, but I did not know it. When shall I awake? I will seek another drink” (Proverbs 23.35). There is the horror of it. Sin anesthetizes the very faculty that would identify sin as the culprit. It leaves scars and then erases the fingerprints.

Every generation invents new anesthetics. The substance changes; the mechanism does not. Whatever dulls conscience will eventually dull the ability to name what has gone wrong. That is why the wise man begs us to stay awake.

When Suffering Has No Explanation: Job and the Man Born Blind

But the phrase carries a second freight, and Scripture will not let us set it down.

Sometimes life wounds us in ways we cannot explain, and no moral arithmetic will balance the ledger.

Job’s friends tried the arithmetic. They reasoned that extraordinary suffering must indicate extraordinary sin, and they pressed that logic on a shattered man for chapter after chapter. God’s verdict on their theology was withering: “My wrath is kindled against you and against your two friends, because you have not spoken of Me what is right as My servant Job has” (Job 42.7). They defended God with arguments God rejected. Zeal did not excuse them.

Centuries later, the disciples made the same mistake with a beggar’s face before them. “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he would be born blind?” Jesus answered, “It was neither that this man sinned, nor his parents; but it was so that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9.2–3). He refused the question as framed. He did not assign blame; He gave sight.

Jesus dismantled the same reasoning again when men brought Him news of Galileans slaughtered at their sacrifices and eighteen crushed beneath a falling tower. Were they worse offenders than everyone else in Jerusalem? “I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13.5). Tragedy is not a scoreboard. Tragedy is a summons.

Why Christians Must Not Invent Reasons for Pain

Here is the practical discipline this demands of us.

Christians should be careful not to invent explanations where God has revealed none. A diagnosis is not necessarily divine punishment. An accident is not always the consequence of poor decisions. A chronic illness is not proof of weak faith. We live in a fallen creation where bodies weaken, diseases develop, blood vessels rupture, bones break, and hearts fail. These realities are not always traceable to a specific personal failing.

When we manufacture a reason for another believer’s affliction, we are not comforting them. We are prosecuting them. And we do it, usually, because their unexplained pain unsettles our tidy assumptions about how God runs the world. Silence feels like weakness, so we fill it with explanation.

Note what Job’s friends did right before they did everything wrong. They sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, “and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his pain was very great” (Job 2.13). That week was ministry. The speeches were not.

Sit down. Bring food. Say less. Weep with those who weep (Romans 12.15). You are not required to explain the wound to bind it.

A Groaning Creation and the Redemption of the Body

That does not mean God is absent.

Paul teaches that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now, and that we ourselves groan within, “waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body” (Romans 8.22–23). Every unexplained ache, every mysterious diagnosis, every wound that seems to appear from nowhere testifies that this world is not the one God originally intended and not the one He will finally leave us in. Groaning is not faithlessness. Groaning is the sound of hope straining forward.

So Paul can look straight at a wasting body and call the affliction momentary and light, because he weighs it against an eternal weight of glory and fixes his eyes on what cannot be seen (2 Corinthians 4.16–18). That is not denial. That is accurate accounting. He also carried a thorn he never had explained to him, only answered: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12.9). God gave him Himself instead of information, and Paul counted it the better bargain.

We are pilgrims desiring a better country (Hebrews 11.16). Pilgrims do not demand that the road make sense. They keep walking because they trust the One who mapped it.

Trusting the Great Physician Until Every Wound Is Healed

One day the Great Physician will complete His work. There will be no unexplained bruises, mysterious illnesses, failing lungs, aching joints, or wounded hearts. “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain” (Revelation 21.4). Every effect of sin and death will finally be undone, and the undoing will be thorough.

Until then, entrust your soul to a faithful Creator in doing what is right (1 Peter 4.19). Not in understanding what is right. In doing it. Worship on Sunday with a body that hurts. Serve someone whose suffering makes less sense than yours. Refuse bitterness the way you would refuse a drink that promised to make you forget.

Some wounds will still seem to come without a cause. They may puzzle us, inconvenience us, or frighten us. They are never outside the knowledge of our heavenly Father.

We may not always understand our wounds, but we can always trust the One who does.

Why Does God Allow Evil and Suffering? Answering the Loaded Question

Brent Pollard

Type it into any search engine, and the question appears predictably: if God exists, why does He permit pain? The skeptic asks it as a checkmate. The grieving parent whispers it through tears. The college sophomore hurls it like a stone. The believer wonders it himself in the small hours, when the house is quiet, and the news will not stop.

Yet this is a loaded question—one whose phrasing smuggles in conclusions before any response can be given. If we answer it as posed, we risk losing the conversation at the outset.

The Hidden Assumptions Behind the Challenge

Notice what the question quietly assumes. It assumes God must love as we do. It assumes good means avoiding all discomfort. It assumes that freedom and goodness go together, and that a loving Creator must protect His creatures from harm, as if wrapping them in cotton. The question has already decided what God must be before it asks whether He is.

Given this, the honest seeker should pause before answering too quickly. To engage well, he must instead reframe the prompt and unwrap its hidden parcels, one by one.

The Moral Standard Behind the Outrage

Press the skeptic for a moment. To call something evil, we must have a fixed measure of right and wrong. A bent stick can only be named bent because we know what a straight one looks like. Where does that straight stick come from?

If morality is shifting group opinion, then evil is only what most people dislike this decade. But if it is more written on the conscience itself, we have stumbled into the very God the question denies. Paul says those without the Law “show the work of the Law written in their hearts, their conscience bearing witness” (Romans 2.15). The protest against evil is an unwitting prayer.

Free Will and Its Frightful Cost

God did not make us machines. He made us in His image. We can love, but we can also refuse. A robot does not love. A puppet does not worship. True devotion needs the real chance of rebellion.

This is the high cost of being human. The freedom that lets a mother cradle her child also lets a tyrant order a massacre. The same tongue that sings can also slander. Without the risk of cruelty, there could be no real love. God, in His wisdom, judged a world with true sons and daughters to be worth the risk of true sin.

Suffering as the School of the Soul

Suffering is not an unexpected flaw in the divine plan. Scripture calls it a workshop where God shapes character. James says, “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance” (James 1.2-3).

A surgeon’s scalpel is terrible in an enemy’s hand but merciful in a healer’s. The same cut changes depending on who holds the blade. The question is not if we will bleed, but whose hands will hold us when we do. Paul promises, “God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8.28). This is not just a verse for coffee mugs. It is a fortress for the soul.

The Serpent We Often Forget

Notice how often people debate as if Satan did not exist. The Word will not let us forget him. Jesus called him “a murderer from the beginning” and “the father of lies” (John 8.44).

Here is the dark whisper in many tragedies. He does not force; he flatters. He does not command; he hints. He coaxed Eve while in the garden. He coaxes us in the supermarket, the boardroom, and the bedroom. Every war begins in someone’s heart. Every malice is first a thought. The blood is human, but the poison behind it is ancient.

Yet Satan is not a rival god. He is a creature on a leash, allowed to snarl only within the boundaries God has set. In Job, he asks permission. He does not seize power. He is real, deadly, and on a chain.

The God Who Entered Our Suffering

Here, the Christian answer stands apart. God not only explains suffering from above. He comes down and bears it. The cross is not a footnote to the problem of evil. It is its center.

Peter writes, “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the cross, so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; for by His wounds you were healed” (1 Peter 2.24). Think about that. The One who could end all suffering with a word chose to take it into His own flesh. He did not excuse Himself from the world He made. He entered it, suffered in it, died in it, and rose to redeem it.

A Conclusion Worth Standing On

The skeptic’s question does not destroy faith. It shows that we are not framing the conversation well. Suffering does not refute God’s existence, for even the idea of evil borrows from His moral light. His goodness endures pain, for He has given purpose to our wounds and faced worse than we ever will.

Until the day when “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be mourning, or crying, or pain” (Revelation 21.4), we live by faith. It is not a faith that denies the dark, but a faith that sees Light moving through it. Lean on the One who is good, even when life is not.

Wasting Away

Carl Pollard

“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day…as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen.” 2 Cor. 4:16-18

That opening line says a lot, “we do not lose heart.” Paul isn’t writing from an easy place. Earlier in the chapter he talks about being afflicted, perplexed, persecuted, struck down. He has suffered constantly for Christ. 

Then he says something honest: “our outer self is wasting away.” That’s real life. Bodies wear down. Energy fades. Life gets heavy. Ministry gets exhausting. We don’t have to pretend everything’s fine. 

But he doesn’t stop there: “our inner self is being renewed day by day.” While one part of you is declining, another part can be growing stronger. But this renewal isn’t automatic, it’s tied to where your focus is and who you’re trusting. You can be physically worn out and spiritually stable at the same time.

Paul calls his suffering “light momentary affliction.” That sounds almost out of place until you remember what he went through, beatings, prison, constant pressure. So why call it “light”? Because he’s comparing it to “an eternal weight of glory.” When eternity is in view, even heavy things take on a different scale.

Then he explains the key, “as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen.” That’s a shift in perspective. Most people live anchored to what they can see, their circumstances, problems, and outcomes. Paul says you’ve got to train your focus somewhere else.

The seen things are temporary. That job stress, that health issue, that tension at home, it’s real, but it’s not lasting. The unseen things, God’s promises, His presence, eternity, those are what endure! 

That’s what keeps us from losing heart. Not pretending life’s easy, but remembering it’s not ultimate.

And so, we don’t quit just because it’s heavy. You don’t measure everything by what’s right in front of you. You keep going because you know there’s more than what you can see. The question is simply what we are fixing our eyes on. Because whatever we focus on will shape whether we give up or keep going.


Books by the Pollards

A Tiny Spark Snail Mail Club (Kathy Pollard)

Thinking the Best Instead of Assuming the Worst

Carl Pollard

Have you ever waved at someone you know and they didn’t wave back? What conclusion did you jump to? Probably something like, they’re upset with me. We do that all the time. We see a look, hear a tone, notice a decision, and instantly attach meaning to it. We don’t just observe what someone does, we assign motives. Then we start treating those motives like facts.

That’s dangerous, because most relationship damage doesn’t come from what people actually do. It comes from what we decide they meant.

Jesus said in John 7:24, “Don’t judge according to appearance, but judge with righteous judgment.” He didn’t remove judgment altogether. He corrected it. There’s a right way to evaluate and a wrong way. Assuming motives we don’t know falls into the wrong category.

In 1 Samuel 16, Samuel saw Eliab and immediately thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is before Him.” Eliab looked the part. He seemed strong, impressive, kingly. But God said, “Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.” Samuel almost chose the wrong man because he based his conclusion on what he could see. We do the same thing! We speak confidently about hearts God hasn’t revealed. When we claim to know motives, we step into territory that belongs to God alone.

It gets worse. Once we assume the worst, we start building a case in our minds. In Mark 2, when Jesus forgave a man’s sins, the scribes immediately concluded He was blaspheming. They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t investigate. They decided. That still happens today. One action becomes a pattern. One moment becomes a label. We create a version of someone in our minds that isn’t even real.

And a lot of times, we’re not reading people accurately at all. We’re reading them through our own wounds, insecurities, and past experiences. Joseph’s brothers did this in Genesis 50. Even after Joseph had forgiven them, they assumed he’d finally take revenge. Their guilt shaped their interpretation.

That kind of thinking hurts the church. Colossians 3:13 says we’re to bear with one another and forgive one another. Love gives space. Love shows patience. Love doesn’t default to suspicion. First Corinthians 13:7 says love “believes all things” and “hopes all things.” That doesn’t mean love is naive. It means love won’t rush to the worst conclusion.

Before you decide what someone meant, pause. Ask, Do I know this, or am I assuming? God knows the worst about us and still offers grace. We ought to show that same grace to others.

“Staying Faithful Through The Storm”

Eli Watson

A few years ago, a ship was caught in a violent storm at sea.  Waves crashed over the sides, the wind howled, and the crew fought just to stay afloat.  Passengers were panicking—some crying, others praying—convinced they weren’t going to make it.  But in the middle of all that chaos… there was one little boy.  He wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t crying.  He just sat there—completely calm. Someone finally asked him,   “Why aren’t you afraid? Don’t you see what’s happening?”  The boy looked at them and said,  “My dad is the captain… and he’s not worried.”  

The truth is, every one of us will face storms—moments when life feels out of control, when fear creeps in, and when we don’t understand what God is doing.  The real question isn’t if storms will come.  The question is: Will we have faith when they do?

Peter faced this exact moment when his faith was tested (Matthew 14:22–33). In the middle of raging water, Jesus called him out, and Peter stepped onto the water.   But when he shifted his focus to the storm, he began to sink.  Faith doesn’t mean having no fear—  it means stepping out despite fear.  

Most people don’t abandon their faith all at once.  It usually happens slowly—  when discouragement builds, prayers seem unanswered, and doing the right thing feels unnoticed.  So what keeps a Christian faithful when life gets cloudy?  The storm reveals where your focus is.

Paul gives us a powerful example of endurance.  In Acts 27, he was shipwrecked, surrounded by people who had lost hope.  But Paul stayed grounded in faith.  

Galatians 6:9 reminds us:  “Do not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”  Even the faithful get tired.  Doing the right thing can feel unnoticed or unrewarded—but God sees it.  “In due season” means in His timing—not ours.  

And God has never failed to come through.  The problem usually isn’t that we don’t know what’s right—  it’s that we grow impatient or tired of doing it.

Hebrews 12:1–2 gives us two key ideas:  “Run with endurance” —  The Christian life isn’t a sprint; it’s a marathon.  Trying to rely on your own strength leads to burnout.  

“Looking to Jesus” —  

Endurance comes from focusing on Christ, not circumstances.  When we rely on ourselves, we run out of strength.  But God never runs out.  Mark 4:35–41 shows another storm.  Jesus was in the boat, asleep, while the disciples panicked.  They woke Him in fear, and He responded:  “Why are you so afraid? How is it that you have no faith?”  

The storm didn’t mean God wasn’t with them—  it meant they were focused on the what instead of the who.  Because when the who is God, the what doesn’t matter.  Storms don’t mean God is absent.  True faith is trusting Him—even when He seems silent.

When storms feel overwhelming, ask yourself three questions:

1. Am I praying like I used to?  

   Am I using the connection I have with the Father, or trying to handle everything alone?

2. Am I serving fully?  

   Am I allowing God to use the gifts He’s given me—or taking them for granted?

3. Am I pursuing holiness with urgency?  

   Am I living like my faith truly matters?

Because most of the time, faith doesn’t fail in a dramatic moment—  

it fades through quiet neglect.

But we can continue with hope.   1 Corinthians 15:58 reminds us that our labor is not in vain.  God sees quiet faithfulness.  He sees your unseen sacrifices.  He sees when you keep going, even when you’re tired.  And He gives strength to those who keep their eyes on Him.  The Christian life isn’t about never getting tired—  it’s about refusing to quit.

(We’re grateful to Eli for a great, heartfelt lesson on staying faithful even in our storms.)

Books by the Pollards

A Tiny Spark Snail Mail Club (Kathy Pollard)

Waiting For Heaven’s Arrows

Gary Pollard

The status quo on this earth (including here in the USA) is deeply flawed. It can seem like most people are stuck in their own bubble and lack anything approaching self-awareness. Most people seem to be incapable of reason. It seems like all of our leaders are starving for war. The economy is not great, despite what some wish-casters would have us believe. It’s near-impossible to find a decent job. Most corporations are evil beyond comprehension. We have to doubt everything we see, hear, and read because AI has made sophistry available to the masses. The average person is burnt out, hopeless, oscillating between apathetic and angry, agnostic in all things, and overall done with reality. 

Christianity acknowledges that evil controls this world. It outright prohibits violence as a means to rectify this evil, preferring instead to wait for Jesus to return bringing rescue to us and justice to them. This is especially hard to do when greed and corruption affect us personally, but Christianity calls its followers to focus on personal moral growth and altruism. We can only control what we do individually, though never perfectly and with often-herculean effort. Our responsibility toward other people is to meet their needs to the best of our ability. 

Everything is scarier now as a parent. I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to be patient with other peoples’ lack of self-awareness. I don’t want to pray for the powerful whose self-serving decisions make life harder and the future bleaker for my son. To list all of the things I don’t want to do would take up several paragraphs. None of us want to do those things if we’re honest with ourselves. This may be why Jesus had to suffer as much as he did. Unlike us, he didn’t deserve any of what he went through — so he has the right to tell us to love other people, and to do all of those things we don’t want to do. 

I’m not holding my breath for conditions to improve on this earth. The cat’s out of the bag and nothing short of Jesus’ return will fix it. He promised that people who believe in him and who follow his teachings will enjoy immortality on a perfect place (whatever that looks like) when he returns. This earth and its abuses (and those who do the abusing) won’t even be a memory in the paradise he’s prepared. Since our consciousness will be expanded (cf. I Jn 3.1-3; I Cor 13.12), I’d assume our capacity to explore (and the limits of exploration) will also be expanded. We won’t be capable of doing wrong, we won’t live in fear of judgment, we won’t have to work to survive, and we won’t have to worry about anything at all. There will be nothing but genuine, unforced, natural positivity. If there was ever a time to start taking our faith seriously, it’s now. Our greatest and only hope is in the Creator of this world, the visible image of God, the one who paid our existential debt, and the one who will rescue his global family when this earth burns. 

Books by the Pollards

A Tiny Spark Snail Mail Club (Kathy Pollard)

A Few Less Considered Benefits Of Baptism

Gary Pollard

According to Romans 5-6 and Galatians, baptism frees us from the standard of the old law. Without grace, which we receive at baptism, our only hope for eternal life is perfectly keeping every single command. No one can do that. The law existed to show us how sinful we are, according to Romans, and we become aware of our own inadequacy compared to God’s standard. Baptism releases us from that standard. We become part of a new and far more lenient system. And no person who has genuinely been convicted by their own guilt would see that as license to sin. But it does mean that God’s forgiveness is abundant and powerful. This is yet another benefit of baptism. 

In Colossians 2, baptism gives us access to the divine and to a perfect new body. John likely wrote I John at the end of the first or beginning of the second century, some decades after the church was established. Despite probably tens or hundreds of thousands of people who had divine insight through miraculous gifts, by John’s day the nature of this new body was still unknown (I John 3.1-3). That hasn’t changed. We can make inferences from how Jesus interacted with reality and with his disciples after his resurrection. There’re some interesting and compelling aspects to what Jesus could do with this new body, but that’s a study for another time. All we know is that baptism gives us access, through Christ, to a greatly expanded range of intellectual and physical motion after the death of this body. 

Equality is something of a loaded term in this era. For most people, it’s an activism word. But scripture presents a divine equality that has nothing to do what race or sex or culture a person is: I Corinthians 12.12-13, A person has only one body, but many parts. Yes, there are many parts, but all those parts are still just one body. Christ is like that, too. Some of us are Jews and some of us are not; some of us are slaves and some of us are free. But we were all baptized to become one body through one spirit, and we all drink from the same spirit. 

Activism has tried and repeatedly failed to “level the playing field” because humans are flawed. One extreme imposes draconian overreaction, the other extreme denies its value entirely. Only God offers true unity and equality. When we’re baptized, we join a body unified by the same power responsible for creating everything we see, and everything we can’t yet see. 

Learning Through A Broken Family

Carl Pollard

My wife and I have been slowly working our way through the story of Jacob and Esau in Genesis 25–36, just the two of us, Bibles open, spending quality time in scripture. We’ve tried to read carefully, letting the text speak for itself without rushing to conclusions. What’s struck us most is how raw and real this family is, flawed people making painful choices, yet God’s bigger plan somehow keeps moving forward through the mess.

The tension between the brothers starts long before they ever speak a word. Even in the womb, they struggle (Genesis 25:22–23), and God tells Rebekah that two nations are inside her, with the older serving the younger. When we read Paul’s reflection on this in Romans 9, it hits home: God’s choice isn’t based on what we do or deserve, it’s His mercy, His call. That truth is a comfort when we’ve felt like our own family patterns or mistakes might derail everything. From the beginning, this story reminds us that God is sovereign, even over dysfunctional beginnings.

Then comes that heartbreaking moment in Genesis 25:29–34 when Esau trades his birthright for a bowl of stew. We’ve talked a lot about how the text doesn’t excuse Jacob’s opportunism, he’s calculating and manipulative, but it lingers on Esau’s choice: he “despised his birthright.” It wasn’t just hunger; it was a deeper disregard for what God had given him. My wife and I have had to ask ourselves hard questions: What do we treat as disposable when we’re tired, stressed, or chasing something immediate? We’ve seen how easy it is to let momentary frustration or desire eclipse what really matters eternally.

Genesis 27 is tough to read aloud. Jacob lies to his blind father, steals the blessing, and runs for his life. There’s no sugarcoating here, no heroic justification. The consequences are immediate and brutal: fear, exile, broken family ties. God’s promise to Jacob holds, but Jacob doesn’t escape the fallout of his sin. That’s been a sobering reminder for us: even when God chooses us, our choices still carry real pain, for ourselves and the people we love.

The turning point is Genesis 32. Jacob wrestles all night with God (or the angel), refuses to let go until he’s blessed, and walks away with both a new name, Israel, and a permanent limp. We’ve come back to that image again and again. Growth rarely comes without struggle; blessing often arrives through humility and dependence. That limp has became a proof that God can transform even the most stubborn parts of the heart.

And then there’s Esau in Genesis 33. Esau runs to meet his brother, throws his arms around him, kisses him, and weeps. After years of hurt, after Jacob’s betrayal, Esau chooses grace. Who in our lives are we still holding resentment toward? What would it look like to run toward reconciliation instead of away from it?

Studying this account together has reminded us that God works patiently through real struggles, through favoritism, deception, exile, and hard-won forgiveness. Growth usually comes slowly, often painfully, but He is faithful to shape us over time. The story of Jacob and Esau encourages us to hold our values loosely for the things of this world, to repent quickly when we’ve wronged others, and to trust God’s good purposes even in the fractured relationships we care about most. We’re grateful for these ancient brothers; they’ve become unexpected companions on our own journey toward humility, healing, and hope.

IRONY IN JOB

Dale Pollard

In Job you find all kinds of interesting things like references to the earth’s rotation (Job 38.14), ocean floor vents (38.16), and even the movement of star clusters like the Pleiades (38.31).

But, there are a couple of powerful verses that also include a heavy dose of irony.

“Oh, that my words were recorded, that they were written on a scroll, that they were inscribed with an iron tool on lead, or engraved in rock forever!”

Job 19.23-24

A moment in the middle of Job’s pain and agony he seems to cry out those words, but they’re buried under many other laments and arguments concerning his terrible situation. The reader, though, already knows all of this because later in life Job wrote down his pain, questions, and his defense– on a scroll and engraved them forever. Just like he wanted!

Well, he desired to be remembered accurately. Job isn’t just venting. He wants future readers to know that his suffering was real and that his struggle with God came from a good place of honesty, not rebellion. An eternal scroll was proof that his story mattered to God, but also a reminder that God could in fact hear every word at a time when he felt like God couldn’t.

At the same time, this moment shows Job’s faith wrestling out in the open for all of us to benefit from. He believed that truth ultimately matters, even if it is not recognized right away. Ironically, Job’s wish is fulfilled. His words are preserved and read thousands of years later. What felt like a desperate plea is turned into his story of suffering before God that wasn’t wasted. God hears it all and answers every cry of confusion, and He can turn it into a lasting story of faith.

Beyond Doomscrolling: How God Equips Us to Slay Giants

Brent Pollard

The Temptation to Feed on Fear

In this high-stakes election year, with our nation more tribalized than perhaps any time in recent memory, the core issue we face is a widespread habit: “doomscrolling.” This compulsive, endless consumption of negative news and distressing online content feeds anxiety, nurtures fear, and starves the soul of hope. First popularized during the COVID-19 pandemic, doomscrolling amounts to voluntary imprisonment in a cell of manufactured despair. To resist fear and reclaim perspective, we must rely on faith, deliberate thought, and God’s Word—tools that equip us for the challenges and Goliaths of our time.

The Christian response to such darkness must be light. We must make Philippians 4.6-8 not merely familiar, but our constant companion. Through prayer, we banish anxiety; through deliberate focus on what is true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, and excellent, we reclaim our thoughts from the enemy’s propaganda machine. Where the world offers an endless stream of catastrophe, God offers peace that surpasses understanding (Philippians 4.7).

Light-Scrolling and Ancient Warfare

It was through such positive scrolling—what we might call “light-scrolling”—that I encountered a video by someone calling himself “The Nerdy Christian.” His observation about David and Goliath arrested my attention and challenged assumptions I had carried for years. Like many, I had viewed this famous contest as ending in David’s victory solely through God’s direct intervention. Yet history reveals a more nuanced truth, making the story even richer.

The sling was no child’s toy. It was among the most fearsome weapons of the ancient world—a fact the Romans learned to their horror. When Hannibal crossed the Alps with his war elephants and stood at Rome’s gates, he brought 2,000 slingers whose skill was legendary. At the Battle of Cannae, one of Rome’s most devastating defeats, a slinger’s stone struck the consul Lucius Aemilius Paullus, inflicting wounds that led to his death. The mighty Republic that would eventually rule the Mediterranean nearly fell before the whirring death delivered by stones and leather straps.

The Insult Was Not in the Weapon

When Goliath taunted David, his words dripped with contempt—but not contempt for the sling itself. “Am I a dog, that you come to me with sticks?” (1 Samuel 17.43 NASB). The sting lay not in dismissing the weapon, but in the absurdity of a shepherd boy, dressed in farm clothes and carrying pastoral tools, presuming to face a champion warrior. A proper opponent would bear the armor and weapons Saul had attempted to strap onto David’s young frame (1 Samuel 17.38-39). To Goliath, it was as if someone had sent a farmhand with a crook to chase off a trained predator.

But what the giant in his arrogance failed to perceive, David understood with crystalline clarity: God had been preparing him for this moment through every ordinary day he had spent in the fields.

The Physics of Faith

Slingers were crucial to the armies of the ancient Near East, Greece, and Rome. Their effectiveness was rooted in simple physics—the high kinetic energy produced by rotational motion and release velocity. When 1 Samuel 17.49 describes the stone sinking into Goliath’s forehead, it aligns perfectly with natural laws. The stone would have fractured the giant’s skull, perhaps punching clear through to lodge itself in the wound. This created the impression of “sinking” into the flesh.

What the armored Goliath seems to have overlooked was the relative thinness of skin and bone protecting the brain. The practiced David, who had spent years perfecting his aim against predators, knew precisely where to deliver the lethal blow. He didn’t need God to bend the laws of nature. God had already woven into creation the very physics that would bring down the blasphemer.

Does this rob the story of its wonder? Far from it. This understanding actually deepens our appreciation for how God works.

Providence in the Pasture

Though God did not need to perform a supernatural miracle at the moment of combat, His providence had followed David throughout his youth like a shepherd follows his flock. That providence established a pattern, a precedent upon which faith could firmly stand. As David himself declared before the king, God had given him strength to defeat lions and bears that threatened his sheep (1 Samuel 17.34-37). The same covenant-keeping God who delivered him from those fierce beasts would deliver him from this uncircumcised Philistine who dared mock the living God and His people.

Here we glimpse a profound truth about divine preparation: God uses the mundane to equip us for the momentous. David’s years in obscurity, mastering a weapon most would consider beneath a warrior’s dignity, became the very foundation for his greatest victory. His faithfulness in small things—protecting defenseless sheep from predators—prepared him for great things. He protected defenseless Israel from the champion of Gath.

More Than the Mundane

The Nerdy Christian rightly observed that God will use the ordinary experiences of our lives to equip us for extraordinary callings. Yet we must not stop there. Otherwise, we truncate the full counsel of Scripture. God has not limited Himself to using only the mundane to prepare His people for battle.

Consider Paul’s instruction to Timothy: “All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3.16-17 NASB). God has given us His very words—not merely as historical record or moral guideline, but as comprehensive equipment for “every good work.” Peter echoes this truth when he reminds us that God’s divine power “has granted to us everything pertaining to life and godliness, through the true knowledge of Him” (2 Peter 1.3 NASB). The context reveals that this knowledge comes through the Gospel itself.

And what is this Gospel? Paul declares it to be “the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes” (Romans 1.16 NASB). The Greek word translated “power” isdunamis (δύναμις)—the very word from which Alfred Nobel derived the name for his explosive invention: dynamite.

Yes, the Gospel is God’s dynamite.

Weapons Divinely Powerful

Listen to how Paul describes this explosive power that God places in our hands: “For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh, for the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses. We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ” (2 Corinthians 10.3-5 NASB).

Scripture itself is the sword of the Spirit (Ephesians 6.17), sharper than any two-edged blade. It pierces to the division of soul and spirit, discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart (Hebrews 4.12). Where David carried five smooth stones from the brook, we carry the eternal Word that spoke worlds into existence. Where David’s sling could fell one giant, God’s Word can topple every fortress of falsehood that exalts itself against truth.

Equipped for Every Giant

The giants we face today seldom wear bronze armor or carry spears like weaver’s beams. They come disguised as anxiety scrolling through our feeds. They come in the form of speculations that undermine faith, as lofty arguments against the knowledge of God. They appear in the culture’s contempt for biblical truth, in our own wavering doubts, in the thousand small compromises that would diminish our devotion.

But God has equipped us to face them all. Through the mundane experiences of life, He builds practical skills in us. He builds tested faith. Through the profound truth of His Word, He arms us with weapons divinely powerful. Through the Gospel’s explosive force, He gives us everything pertaining to life and godliness.

The question is never whether God has equipped us. The question is whether we will, like David, step forward in faith with the tools He has provided. Refuse the ill-fitting armor of human wisdom. Trust instead in the name of the Lord of hosts whom we serve (1 Samuel 17.45).

The Witness of Preparation

When we immerse ourselves in Scripture daily, its truth shapes our thoughts and guides our steps. Something remarkable happens. We discover we can indeed slay every evil giant we face. As we grow deeper in a relationship with our Savior, others will take note—just as the religious leaders noticed about the apostles—that we have been with Jesus (Acts 4.13).

This is God’s way: to prepare us through providence, equip us through His Word, and empower us through His Spirit. He takes shepherd boys and makes them giant-slayers. He takes fishermen and makes them fishers of men. He takes ordinary believers and uses them to turn the world upside down (Acts 17.6).

The giants still taunt. The enemy still rages. But we need not doomscroll through catalogs of catastrophe, rehearsing reasons for despair. Instead, let us take up the weapons God has forged for us—both the practical skills refined through faithful living and the spiritual sword that is His eternal Word. Let us step forward, not in our own strength, but in the name of the God who has covenanted with His people. And let us remember: the battle belongs to the Lord (1 Samuel 17.47). He uses the weak things of this world to shame the strong, that no flesh should glory in His presence (1 Corinthians 1.27-29).

In Christ, we are more than conquerors (Romans 8.37). Every giant will fall. When we resist the culture of fear and trust in the practical skills God builds in us and the explosive power of His Word, we are equipped for every challenge. In this way, the world will know that there is a God in spiritual Israel (1 Samuel 17.46; Romans 9.6-8).

Stick Up For The Unborn

Dale Pollard

Jeremiah was a man who faced many challenges and hardships. He was someone who was intimate with failure and let down— but God’s reminder to him is the same for us today. He was designed with a purpose before he was born. 

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations” (Jer. 1.5).

All humans are premeditated in their formation but are born first in the mind of God. That’s something worth thinking about. Our minds are incomprehensible in their complexity and our bodies came stock with a piece of eternity called the “soul.” 

The King of Kings had a hand in every  atom that makes up the body. 

According to ancestry.com, 

“Your DNA could stretch from the earth to the sun and back ~600 times.” 

Suzanne Bell is a chemist at West Virginia University and she estimates that a 150-pound human body contains about 6.5 octillion (that’s 6,500,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000) atoms.

Jeremiah’s job was to speak on behalf of God to the people of his day. He was created for that purpose. Today our job is the same. A prophet is simply a mouthpiece for God and we were created to be a mouthpiece on behalf of the same God for the people of our day. The Bible tells us that He has a huge heart for the helpless. How is abortion even a thing? The most helpless are killed before they even see sunlight and God’s people shouldn’t get desensitized to that sort of evil. Speak up for the little guys (and girls).

You remember when the Bible actually recorded a reaction from the unborn baby’s perspective? 

“And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit” (Luke 1.41).

We’re all fearfully and wonderfully made, according to Psalm 139:13-14, and that includes the unborn.

A Dangerous Lie We All Believe

Neal Pollard

We tell it in different ways. It may be, “Nobody is as bad, broken, or beaten as I am.” Or, “nobody understands what it’s like.” Or, “if anyone knew the ‘real’ me, they wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” Really, there are an infinite combination of ways we say it, but all of them boil down to some equivalent of “I am beyond the reach of God’s acceptance.”

Why is this lie so dangerous? It actually keeps us away from Him and His blessings. Our belief in our unworthiness is so deep that we keep ourselves from trying to get close to Him. Our guilt drives us to darkness, isolation, and despair. In this state, we actually feed sinfulness and encase ourselves in lethal isolation. We cannot be at our best in relationships with others and we put greater focus on self, leading to further misery and emptiness.

Perhaps the common and caustic nature of this lie is why the Bible stresses the transforming and truthful rebuttal to this devilish deception. How does the Bible respond to the idea that I am not good enough for God’s love? Consider these biblical answers.

  • God’s love is unconditional. “For while we were still helpless, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. 7 For one will hardly die for a righteous man; though perhaps for the good man someone would dare even to die. 8 But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:6-8).
  • God IS love. “The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love” (1 John 4:8).
  • God’s love is unconquerable and indomitable by any force or power. “Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38-39).
    • God wants us to overcome. “This is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:3-4).
    • God doesn’t want anyone lost. “The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).
    • God’s forgiveness is faithfully and fully applied. “But if we walk in the Light as He Himself is in the Light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:7-9).
    • God’s love is universal and proven. “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life” (John 3:16).

Who is it that wants us to shun these beautiful truths? What do we gain by ignoring and rejecting them? What do we lose? None of us is perfect (Roman 3:10,23; 5:12). All of us struggle, with temptation (James 1:13-15; 1 Corinthians 10:13), with worldliness (1 John 2:15-17), with fear, and with weakness (Psalm 103:14). God has given us the resources we need to combat this terrible lie. We must see our intrinsic value in His eyes, fueled by His nature and proven by His actions. When we reject the lie, we choose the path of purpose and productivity. We can become what He intended for us to be and desires us to be. Our problems and struggles won’t disappear, but our resources to address them will become inexhaustible. Reject the lie!

Reasons To Be Thankful

Carl Pollard

As a Christian, the list is endless. But here’s a few: 

  1. God is eternally good and His steadfast love never ends (Psalm 136:1) 
  2. He chose you before the foundation of the world (Eph. 1:3–4)
  3. You are forgiven and your sins are removed as far as the east is from the west (Psa 103:12)
  4. Christ redeemed you with His own blood while you were still His enemy (Rom. 5:8)
  5. You have been adopted as a beloved child of God (1 John 3:1)
  6. The Spirit lives inside you as a guarantee of your inheritance (Eph. 1:13–14)
  7. Every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places already belongs to you in Christ (Eph. 1:3)
  8. Nothing can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus (Rom. 8:38–39)
  9. Your name is written in the Lamb’s Book of Life (Phil. 4:3) 
  10. Jesus is praying for you right now (Heb. 7:25)
  11. Death has been swallowed up in victory (1 Cor. 15:54, 57)
  12. One day you will see Him face to face and be made like Him (1 John 3:2)
  13. He will wipe away every tear and make all things new (Rev. 21:4–5)
  14. His mercies are new every single morning (Lam.3:22–23)
  15. He cares for YOU (1 Pt. 5:7) 

As a Christian, you aren’t just tolerated, you are infinitely loved, irrevocably chosen, completely forgiven, eternally kept, and destined for glory. That is why, in everything and always, we give thanks. 

“This is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you: give thanks in all circumstances.” 1 Thes. 5:18

Dealing With Sin Aggressively

Sin won’t quit on its own. It has to be killed. The Bible doesn’t offer a gentle plan; it hands us a sword. Cut off the hand. Gouge out the eye. Put the old nature to death. This is love for the One who died so we could live free.

Carl Pollard

I was listening to a preacher on Facebook the other day and he said something that made me think. He said, “stop treating your sin like a pet, it’s time for us to deal aggressively with our sin!” I started looking for all the places in scripture that this concept is described. 

Jesus is clear: “If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell” (Matthew 5:29,). Sin isn’t a bad habit to manage, it’s a deadly growth that has to be cut out. The Bible never tells us to make peace with it. It tells us to kill it. That’s the normal Christian life.

Paul is clear: “So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me” (Romans 7:17). That word “dwells” means sin has set up camp inside us. It’s not a visitor; it’s a squatter that wrecks everything it touches. The only answer is eviction, forceful, immediate, and final. The Spirit is the one who hands us the tools.

Colossians 3:5 is clear: “Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry.” “Put to death” is a command to act now, not later. It’s not about slow improvement; it’s execution. Lust doesn’t get a warning, it gets killed. Greed doesn’t get an excuse, it gets the cross. Every morning we take sin’s corpse out to the curb.

Jesus continues: “And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away” (Matthew 5:30). He’s using strong language on purpose. If something in your life, your phone, your habits, your friendships, keeps tripping you up, get rid of it. No debate. The word “causes you to sin” is the same one used for setting a trap. Whatever sets the trap has to go.

Romans 8:13 shows how we win: “For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” Notice it’s “by the Spirit.” We don’t grit our teeth and try harder. We pray, read Scripture, fast, and stay accountable, then the Spirit does the heavy lifting. This is daily, ongoing war, not a one-time fix.

Sin won’t quit on its own. It has to be killed. The Bible doesn’t offer a gentle plan; it hands us a sword. Cut off the hand. Gouge out the eye. Put the old nature to death. This is love for the One who died so we could live free. Fighting sin hard is just what grace looks like in real life. Start today: name the sin, grab the weapon, trust the Spirit. Eternity is too close for anything less.