Tag: love

Cut Flowers Die

Carl Pollard

There is something beautiful about cut flowers. For a little while, they still look alive. Their color remains, and their shape stays intact. But everyone knows the same thing about cut flowers, they are dying. Why? Because they have been separated from their source of life.

Isn’t that a fitting picture of morality without God? A person can cut off the flower and still admire it for a while. And in the same way, a society can cut itself off from God and still hold on to certain moral values for a time. People may continue speaking about honesty, kindness, fidelity, justice, compassion, and decency. Outwardly, the flower is still there, but cut flowers die.

If morality is the flower, then God is the root. If righteous living is the fruit, then God’s word is the seed. Once people sever morality from the authority of Scripture, they may preserve the appearance of goodness for a generation or two, but it will not last! Morality can’t survive long when it’s disconnected from the One who defines what is good.

God Is The Source Of What Is Good

The Bible doesn’t present morality as something man invented. Goodness doesn’t begin with culture, education, public opinion, or human consensus. It begins with God! 

Psalm 119:68 says, “You are good and do good; teach me Your statutes.” Good is rooted in God’s character. He is the standard.

James 1:17 says, “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights.” If every truly good gift comes from above, then moral truth does too. Man doesn’t discover morality by looking within himself. He learns morality by reading the Word of God. Micah 6:8 says, “He has shown you, O man, what is good.” Micah doesn’t say man figured out what is good, he says God has shown him. Moral truth is revealed truth! 

Morality Without God Cannot Stand

Many people want the flower without the root. They want the benefits of biblical morality without submission to biblical authority. They want strong families without God’s design for the family. They want justice without acknowledging the Judge of all the earth. They want dignity, value, love, sacrifice, and truth, but they don’t want the God who gives those words meaning.

But once morality is detached from God, it becomes unstable. Why is honesty good? Why is murder wrong? Why is sexual purity honorable? Why should someone sacrifice for another person? Why should the strong protect the weak? Why should truth matter more than desire?

If theres no God, then those questions have no fixed answer. Morality becomes preference, tradition, social convenience, or majority opinion. And what one generation calls virtue, the next generation may call oppression. What one culture honors, another may reject. Without God, morality becomes negotiable! 

Judges 21:25 describes the chaos that results when God’s rule is cast aside,

“Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” That is the natural end of morality cut loose from God. When man becomes his own standard, he doesn’t gain freedom, he finds confusion. 

Proverbs 14:12, “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.” What “seems right” isn’t enough. Human instinct isnt a trustworthy moral compass. Feelings change, cultures drift, and hearts deceive.

Jeremiah 10:23 says, “O Lord, I know the way of man is not in himself; it is not in man who walks to direct his own steps.” Man can’t author a lasting morality because he was never meant to be his own god.

Cut flowers are beautiful, but eventually they whither and die. Moral decency without God is doomed to fail. 

DYING OF FRIGHT WOULD BE HORRIFYING 

Dale Pollard

Charles Walton was a guy who lived in rural England back in the day (1890s). His death was a mysterious one and over the years the details have become a little blurry. Here’s the quick and skinny version.

Walton reportedly believed he had been cursed by a local witch after a dispute in his village. According to accounts recorded by local investigators and later writers of English folklore— he became increasingly terrified that supernatural forces were after him. One night he was found dead in bed with no obvious physical cause of death. The local doctor reportedly suggested that extreme fright and stress may have caused heart failure.

Cases like this are sometimes explained medically through what modern doctors recognize as “stress-triggered cardiac events,” such as Takotsubo cardiomyopathy or sudden cardiac arrest brought on by intense fear. The author admits his inability to pronounce any of that correctly or with confidence. 

PAGANS & JEWS & ROMANS— OH MY!

The Bible gives the perfect case study on the negative effects that fear has on us spiritually by providing insight into Timothy’s mind. 

On the outside he faces pagan people, jealous Jews, and the sword swinging soldiers of Rome. On the inside, the Christians who make up this young congregation are being led and taught by a young man— Timothy. He battles self doubt and a lack of confidence in his own abilities. To top it off, his mentor is in prison. 

Paul perfectly pens the inspired words that would lift young Timothy’s spirit by reminding him that the human spirit was designed to handle and persevere under such daunting circumstances. Paul writes (from a cell), 

“God did not give us a spirit of fear but of power, love, and a sound mind.” 2 Timothy 1.7

The spirit (πνεῦμα) referred to here is not the Holy Spirit, but it’s the “disposition or influence which fills and governs the soul of any one” (Strong, G4154). 

God did not give us the spirit of skittishness so that we’d cower under confrontation or burn out under prospects of suffering.

Holiness amidst hostility is an ability that comes standard on the base model human spirit. It’s not a possibility, it’s a guarantee. So if we weren’t originally given a spirit of fear, what do we have? 

THREE GOOD WORDS 

Each key word in the verse gives the reader a little more when they’re dissected— check them out. 

Power

We’re equipped with power (δύναμις) that is, “inherent power, power residing in a thing by virtue of its nature” (Strongs, G1410). 

Love 

That aggressive strength is powerfully combined with love (ἀγάπη). In this case the word refers to an affection or good will towards others. The God given spirit is not heartless. We have the power to show affection yet some chose to pretend as if their personalities are simply not capable of showing this attribute. 

Self-control 

A sound mind (σωφρονισμός) is simply the ability to control yourself (Strong, G4995). 

WE’RE PROGRAMMED TO WIN 

We share a commonality with Paul’s protégé — (the reader would be shocked at the many attempts made trying to spell pro-toe-Shay). 

Like Timothy, we’ve been fashioned in the image of an eternal Being and our spirits drive an immortal soul. We aren’t designed to live in a constant state of timidity, we’re creations of courage. 

Courage is not the absence of a fearful feeling but it’s the ability to face that fear— and move forward.  

The Invitation

Carl Pollard

Revelation 3:20, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.”

This verse is one of the most well known invitations in Scripture, but it is often misunderstood. Many assume Jesus is speaking to unbelievers about initial salvation. While the principle certainly applies, the context shows that Jesus is actually speaking to Christians who have grown spiritually indifferent.

Revelation 3:20 is part of Jesus’ message to the church in Laodicea (Revelation 3:14–22). The Laodiceans believed they were spiritually healthy. They said, “I am rich, have become wealthy, and have need of nothing” (Revelation 3:17). Yet Jesus exposed their reality they were, “wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked.”

Their problem was lukewarm faith (Revelation 3:16). They were not openly hostile to Christ, but they were not passionately devoted either. They had allowed comfort and self sufficiency to push Jesus to the margins of their lives.

Jesus uses a powerful image, He is standing outside the door knocking. The church belonged to Him, and yet He was outside.

This idea is one of patient persistence. Jesus isn’t breaking the door down. He’s knocking and calling. The responsibility rests on the individual, “If anyone hears my voice and opens the door.” Faith is personal. Each person must respond.

Jesus promises something beautiful, “I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” In the first century, sharing a meal represented fellowship, acceptance, and relationship. Jesus is offering restored intimacy.

The Laodiceans had religion without love. Christ was offering them the very thing they lacked, true communion with Him!

This verse forces an uncomfortable question, Is Jesus really at the center of our lives, or have we pushed Him outside? It’s possible to attend church, know the Bible, and still live spiritually distant from Christ. Like the Laodiceans, we may feel self sufficient while our relationship with Him grows cold.

But the good news is that Jesus still knocks. He calls us back through His Word, through conviction, and through moments that soften our hearts. When we respond, He doesn’t reject us, He restores us.

Christ doesn’t want our attendance or routine. He wants our fellowship! The door only has one handle, and it’s on the inside. The question is simple, Will we open it?

The Power Of A Name

Dale Pollard

An angel appeared to Gideon while he was threshing wheat in winepress to hide from the Midianites, calling him a “mighty warrior” (Judges 6:12).

Gideon initially doubted his ability, noting how his clan was the weakest in Manasseh and he was the least in his family.

God instructed Gideon to reduce his army from 32,000 to only 300 men to ensure the glory was given to God, not human strength.

So, using only trumpets, jars, and torches, Gideon’s small force caused the Midianite army to panic and flee.

To this day he’s remembered as the judge who brought 40 years of peace to Israel, overcoming his own fear to act with God’s strength. 

Rachel was dying during childbirth on the way to Ephrath (A.K.A. Bethlehem).

Before she dies, she names her son Ben-oni, which means “son of my sorrow” or “son of my pain.” A boy would struggle in many ways if he was forced to grow with a name that marked him as a bringer of pain and served as a constant reminder of grief.

Thankfully, his father, Jacob, changes his name to Benjamin; meaning “son of my right hand.” A name change that no doubt shaped his life growing up for the better.

It’s interesting how names or nicknames can shape our identities from a young age. When children are trying to find out who they are or what their place is in the world, they often internalize observations about themselves given by those they’re closest to. 

God has allowed us to wear the Name of Christ (Romans 13.14)– an unbelievable honor. Anybody carrying His name has a future brighter than the rest. 

What The World Needs Now: The “Unnatural” Love Jesus Commands

Brent Pollard

Why Jesus Commanding Love Strikes Us as Odd

There is something that stops us cold when we first read John 15.17. Jesus commands us to love. We instinctively resist this. Love, we have been told since childhood, is something that happens to us—a feeling that comes unbidden or not at all. And yet there it stands in the plain Greek of the New Testament: a command. An imperative. Not a suggestion, not an aspiration—a command.

The love Jesus commands does not bubble up from the wellspring of natural affection. It does not depend on the worthiness of its object. It is a love that originates not in the heart but in the will. This is what makes it unnatural—not aberrant or disordered, but swimming against the powerful current of a fallen nature that has always reserved its warmth for those who return it.

What Made Jesus’ New Commandment Truly New

The Jews of Jesus’ day already had a command to love their neighbors (Leviticus 19.18). But centuries of theological trimming had quietly reduced the definition of “neighbor” to a comfortable radius of like-minded, like-blooded individuals. This is precisely why Jesus told the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10.25–37)—a story so deliberately unsettling that it practically demanded a verdict.

Then, in the upper room on the night of His betrayal, Jesus issued a new commandment: “Love one another, even as I have loved you” (John 13.34, NASB95). The newness lay in its standard and scope. The measure of this love was no longer the mirror of self—it was the cross. And the cross looks like a man hanging between criminals, praying, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 22.34, NASB95). That is the standard.

Agapē Love: What the Greek New Testament Reveals About Loving Like Christ

Koine Greek—the common tongue of the first-century world—distinguished at least four varieties of what we flatten into one English word. Phileō was friendly affection. Storgē was a family bond. Erōs was romantic desire. And rising above them all stood agapē—sacrificial, unconditional, self-emptying love. Kindness is extended when kindness is not deserved. Forgiveness is given when the wound is still fresh. Service rendered without expectation of return.

You do not feel your way into agapē. You choose your way into it. The natural loves are genuine goods, gifts from God’s hand—but left unchecked, they curl inward. The love of family becomes contempt for the stranger. The tribe’s love becomes hatred of the outsider. Agapē redeems and elevates these natural loves, rightly orienting them. It is not human morality at its finest—it is participation in the divine nature, the love of God shed abroad in human hearts by the Holy Spirit (Romans 5.5). You cannot manufacture it. You receive it, and then choose to deploy it.

Agapē, in its fullest sense, is the deliberate choice—empowered by God—to seek another’s genuine good at personal cost, because that is precisely how God in Christ has loved us.

“Othering” in Modern Culture and the Ancient Problem It Represents

Hal David, moved by the turmoil of the Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War, wrote words that Jackie DeShannon made famous: “What the world needs now is love, sweet love.” Were David writing today, surveying our present moment, the pen would move with the same urgency.

We live in a time of othering—the process by which human beings made in God’s image are reduced to caricatures and assigned to an outgroup whose humanity can be safely disregarded. The Nazis did not begin with gas chambers. They began with names, with the slow rhetorical work of placing people outside the boundaries of moral concern. Today, the preferred weapons are different—”Nazi,” “fascist,” “bootlicker,” “communist”—but the intent is identical: to frame opponents as a them against whom any response is justified. The summer of 2020 saw politically motivated murders amid the George Floyd protests. January 2026 has already recorded two deaths connected to ICE enforcement protests. Solomon was right—there is nothing new under the sun (Ecclesiastes 1.9). Human fallenness finds new costumes for old sins.

How the Cross Teaches Christians to Love Their Enemies

The command of Jesus is not an antiquarian curiosity. It is addressed to this fractured, furious moment. The temptation—and we should name it honestly as a temptation—is to reserve our warmth for the in-group and feel entirely justified in our contempt for ideological enemies. But the One commanding our love is the same One who prayed forgiveness over the men who drove the nails.

The decision to love precedes the feeling of love. We choose to pray for those who despise us. We choose to speak with dignity about those whose politics make our blood simmer. And grace, practiced in genuine submission to God’s Spirit, reshapes not just our behavior but our hearts.

Jesus said the watching world would know His disciples not by their doctrinal precision or political affiliations, but by their love for one another (John 13.35). The church, in an age of othering and outrage, is called to be a visible demonstration that another way is possible—that the love of God in Christ is not a theological abstraction but a living reality.

The command is given.

The standard is the cross.

The power is the Spirit.

And the world is watching.

The Truest Valentine: Love Written in Blood

Brent Pollard

The Forgotten Man Behind the Holiday

Saturday brings us once more to Valentine’s Day, that peculiar fixture of the modern calendar in which chocolate and sentiment have almost entirely buried the bones of a third-century martyr. The holiday bears the name of a man who bled for Christ, yet we have dressed his memorial in pink and red and made it an occasion for romance. One suspects that if Valentine himself could survey what has become of his feast day, he would be bewildered—and perhaps grieved.

Who was this man? The historical record is thin. Multiple martyrs bore the name Valentine in the second and third centuries. Still, tradition has settled on a Roman priest—sometimes identified as a bishop of Terni—who was executed under Emperor Claudius II around 269 AD. The legends are familiar: that he secretly performed Christian marriages, that he penned a farewell note signed “From your Valentine.” These details are charming, but the earliest sources contain none of them. What we do know is this: Valentine was a minister of the Gospel. He was martyred for his allegiance to Christ. The early church honored him as a witness—a martyr in the original Greek sense of the word—to the lordship of Jesus. Everything else was embroidered into the story during the Middle Ages, much as the legends of Christmas accrued around a manger that, in its original hour, was far more stark and dangerous than any Nativity scene suggests.

In 496 AD, the Catholic Church established the Feast of Saint Valentine on February 14th as a liturgical commemoration—not of romance, but of Christian fidelity under persecution. If love was to be associated with the day at all, it was the love described in John 15:13: “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” The connection to romantic love did not emerge until after 1382, when Geoffrey Chaucer wrote in his Parliament of Fowls: “For this was on Saint Valentine’s Day, when every bird comes there to choose his mate.” From that poetic seed grew a cultural vine that, over the next several centuries, would entirely obscure the root.

By the 1500s, European nobles were exchanging Valentine’s notes. Romantic pairings became the dominant association with February 14th. What was forgotten—quietly, gradually, and almost completely—was that a man had forfeited his life for his faith in Christ. What follows is a pattern we observe repeatedly in history: a religious observance is absorbed by commerce, reshaped by local culture, and re-exported globally in its modified form.

A Holiday Remade by Commerce and Culture

Consider Japan. There, Valentine’s Day has become a Sadie Hawkins affair. Women give honmei-choco (“true feeling chocolate”) to romantic interests and giri-choco (“obligation chocolate”) to coworkers and superiors. Japanese confectioners, not content with a single commercial holiday, invented “White Day” on March 14th, when men reciprocate with gifts worth two to three times what they received. As Japan grows more progressive, a growing pushback among women seeks to eliminate giri-choco, which may eventually nudge Japan toward the Western model of Valentine’s Day as a lover’s holiday.

Korea adds an even more inventive wrinkle. Koreans observe both Valentine’s Day and White Day in the Japanese fashion, but they have appended a third occasion: “Black Day” on April 14th. On Black Day, those who received nothing on either holiday gather to eat jajangmyeon (black bean noodles) and commiserate over their single status. One cannot help but note the irony—that a day once consecrated to the memory of a man who died for the highest love has been culturally refracted until it produces a holiday devoted to lamenting the absence of the lowest.

This trajectory is instructive. It reveals something about the nature of human culture: left to its own devices, the world will always trade the costly for the comfortable, the cruciform for the commercial, the eternal for the ephemeral. It has done so with Valentine’s Day. It has done so with Christmas. It will do so with any truth that demands something of us, unless we are vigilant to remember what the truth actually requires.

Love Detached from Sacrifice

Here we must make a spiritual observation, for our purpose is devotional rather than merely cultural. When love is detached from sacrifice, it becomes fragile. This is not a sentimental claim. It is a theological one, rooted in the very nature of God and the pattern of His self-revelation.

Examine every major New Testament articulation of love, and you will find that love is never defined primarily by emotion. It is demonstrated through surrender, not sentiment. God did not merely feel affection for the world; He gave:

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3.16, ESV)

“Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” (Ephesians 5.25, ESV)

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15.13, ESV)

Do you see the verb that anchors each of these texts? It is not “felt.” It is not “enjoyed.” It is “gave.” Love, as Scripture reveals it, is not the warm feeling that overtakes us when conditions are pleasant; it is the deliberate act of self-expenditure when conditions are agonizing. The cross was not a gesture of sentiment. It was the ultimate act of will, the most purposeful decision in the history of the cosmos—the Son of God choosing, in full possession of His faculties and full awareness of the cost, to absorb the wrath His people deserved.

Strip sacrifice from love, and what remains? Affection. Enjoyment. Personal fulfillment. Preference. These are not worthless; however, they are not durable. A love built on enjoyment will fracture the moment enjoyment fades—and enjoyment always fades. A love sustained by emotion will collapse the moment emotion shifts—and emotion always shifts. Only a love anchored in the deliberate, costly, daily decision to give of oneself can endure the pressures that this fallen world relentlessly applies.

The Architecture of Love

Perhaps an analogy will help. Think of love as a building. Sacrifice is the foundation and the structural steel. Romantic attraction is like paint—it beautifies, but it bears no weight. Shared interests are the furnishings—they make the space enjoyable, but remove them, and the building still stands. Emotional chemistry is like lightning—it illuminates brilliantly for a moment, but you cannot wire a house with it.

Without sacrifice, marriage collapses under duress. Friendships dissolve under inconvenience. Church unity disintegrates under disagreement. Why? Because sacrifice is the only form of love that says, “I will stay when it costs me.” And make no mistake—it will cost you. The question is never whether love will be tested, but whether your love is the kind that can survive the test.

Consider Paul’s inspired description in 1 Corinthians 13. Love is patient. It bears all things. It endures all things. It does not seek its own. It never fails. We must remember the context: Paul was not composing a wedding homily. He was addressing a fractured congregation riven by pride, division, and the competitive misuse of spiritual gifts. When he wrote that love “does not seek its own” (1 Corinthians 13:5, NASB95), he was describing cruciform love—love shaped like the cross. This is not the love of Hallmark cards. This is the love of Gethsemane and Golgotha.

If Love Is What We Feel, It Will Fail

Here is the great dividing line: if love is what we feel, it will fail; if love is what we choose, it will endure.

Paul could describe this perfect love in 1 Corinthians 13 because he had seen it incarnate in Christ. Jesus did not withdraw when obedience brought the hematidrosis of Gethsemane—that dreadful sweating of blood that Luke, the physician, records with clinical precision (Luke 22.44). Jesus did not retreat when loyalty to the Father brought Him the agony of Calvary. He stayed. He chose to stay. And His staying was not passive endurance but active, purposeful self-giving for the glory of the Father and the redemption of His people.

This means that 1 Corinthians 13 is not idealism. It is not the wistful poetry of a romantic who has never suffered. It is the testimony of a man who watched his Lord die and who understood that the pattern of that death was now the pattern for all Christian love. It is imitation, not imagination.

And that is our call. The love Paul describes is not reserved for poets or newlyweds, for the spiritually elite or the naturally affectionate. It is the daily decision of the disciple. It is patience when irritation would be easier. It is kindness when pride demands recognition. It is endurance when quitting would bring immediate relief. It is the quiet, unglamorous, often unnoticed choice to remain faithful when faithfulness is expensive.

The World’s Love and Christ’s Love

The world celebrates love that dazzles. Christ commands love that remains. The world measures love by its intensity of feeling. Christ measures love by its faithfulness under fire. The world asks, “How deeply do you feel?” Christ asks, “How faithfully will you stay?”

We must not be confused about this. The world’s version of love is not entirely wrong—it is merely insufficient. Romantic feeling is a good gift of God. Emotional connection is part of His design. Enjoyment of one another is woven into the fabric of human relationships. But these things are the blossoms, not the root. And when we mistake the blossom for the root, we are devastated when winter comes, and the blossoms fall. The root of love is sacrifice. The root of sacrifice is the will. And the will is strengthened not by feeling, but by faith—faith in the God who first loved us in precisely this way.

John writes: “By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth” (1 John 3.16–18, ESV). Notice the movement of the text. John does not allow love to remain in the stratosphere of theology. He brings it immediately to earth: Do you see your brother in need? Then act. Love is not what you say. Love is what you do when doing is costly.

A Valentine Written in Blood

As the world exchanges cards and chocolates this Saturday, let us remember what Valentine’s Day was intended to commemorate. Not romance. Not sentiment. Not the fluttering heart of a new attraction. It was meant to honor a man who loved Christ more than he loved his own life—and who proved it by dying.

And behind that man stands the One whose love makes all other loves possible: Jesus Christ, who on a Roman cross authored the truest Valentine ever written—not in ink, but in blood. That is the love we are called to imitate. Not merely to admire, not merely to theologize about, but to embody—in our marriages, our friendships, our congregations, and our daily encounters with a world that desperately needs to see love that does not quit.

The measure of our love is not how deeply we feel, but how faithfully we stay. May God grant us the grace to love as Christ loved—with a love that gives, that stays, that sacrifices, and that endures. For that is the love that never fails.

Freedom From Mortality

Gary Pollard

I recently read something very powerful and felt it was worth sharing. It is a fitting reminder that materialism and a pursuit of physical wealth do our soul no favors — in fact, they sabotage our pursuit of God’s wisdom. It further illustrates God’s statement that the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil (1 Tim. 6:10). 

An obligatory disclaimer: I don’t agree with everything this author wrote. This should not be seen as an across-the-board endorsement of his writings on spiritual topics, though his works on Egyptian history are invaluable. But we’ve likely all heard quotations in the pulpit that were taken from Einstein, Reagan, Eisenhower, and other secular figures — consider this a quotation in the same spirit. 

“May the people of our time, who by reason of the alleged comforts derived from their scientific technology are falling more and more deeply into matter, come to understand that if the end of bodily life is death, the end of what constitutes the body’s life is to survive and liberate itself from what is mortal. The means of attaining this end is no more difficult than it is to live. Yet this is precisely what few people know how to do. Most are solely concerned with distracting themselves, passing the time that separates them from the hour of death they so greatly fear. 

To live is not to work. If we are condemned to work in order to maintain our life, this sentence constitutes the suffering through which we must acquire the intelligence-of-the-heart that is, in itself, our life’s spiritual aim. To base existence on work is as unwise as to found society on economic principles. Love of the task makes work joyful, and a good economic order is a secondary result. Mechanicalness, the emanation of a warped consciousness, as well as valueless money, these have been the cause and means of action for ambitious leaders to drag our world into the depths of misery. Out of this comes a reaction which will betray the expectations of these misguiding masters. The divine spark ever slumbers within man, and when animated by a new breath is irresistible.” 

— R. A. S. de Lubicz (1985)

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.

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.

Walking Worthy

Carl Pollard

In Ephesians 4:2, the Apostle Paul urges Christians: “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” This verse comes as Paul transitions from the profound doctrines of God’s grace in chapters 1–3 to practical living. Having been called into one body through Christ’s redemptive work (Ephesians 4:1), we are to “walk worthy” of that calling. These four virtues, humility, gentleness, patience, and forbearance in love, form the foundation for preserving “the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:3).

Humility means having a low estimation of oneself, not out of self-loathing, but from recognizing our utter dependence on God’s grace. It is the opposite of pride, which destroys relationships. Jesus exemplified this perfectly, saying, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart” (Matt. 11:29). Philippians 2:5–8 calls us to have the same mindset as Christ, who emptied Himself and took the form of a servant. Without humility, we cannot serve one another or maintain unity.

Gentleness, often translated as meekness, is strength under control. Aristotle described it as the balance between excessive anger and passivity. It is not weakness but controlled power, as seen in Jesus driving out the money changers yet never sinning in anger. Galatians 5:23 lists gentleness as fruit of the Spirit. In a divided church, gentleness defuses conflict and reflects Christ’s character.

Patience. or longsuffering, means being “slow to anger.” It mirrors God’s character: “The Lord is… patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish” (2 Peter 3:9). Love “is patient” (1 Corinthians 13:4). In relationships, patience endures irritations without retaliation, remembering how much God has patiently borne with us.

Finally, we are to “bear with one another in love.” This means making allowances for others’ faults, forgiving as God forgave us (Colossians 3:13). Agape love motivates this forbearance, seeking others’ good even when it costs us.

These virtues are not optional suggestions but commands for every follower of Christ. In a world defined by division, pride, and impatience, the church must shine as a countercultural community. Imagine families, workplaces, and congregations transformed by this grace. But we cannot manufacture these traits in our strength; they flow from the Spirit as we abide in Christ (Galatians 5:22–23).

So, examine your heart: Where do pride or impatience hinder unity? Repent and yield to God. Walk in humility, gentleness, patience, and love, for in doing so, you glorify the One who first loved us and display the beauty of His calling to a watching world!

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!

Immortality

Carl Pollard

Immortality

“the ability to live forever, eternal life.” 

As a Christian, the gospel you believed is not mainly about escaping hell, it’s about entering eternal life. Immortality is the center of our hope. From the beginning, God formed us for eternal life. The Tree of Life stood in Eden as a sign. Humanity was meant to live, and to walk with God without end (Gen 2:9). Sin broke that design and brought the sentence of death (Gen 3:22-24). Death became the doorway through which grace would one day lead us back to life.

And grace has come. Jesus Christ, the Resurrection and the Life, has “abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel” (2 Tim 1:10). When He rose, He unveiled the firstfruits of a new humanity, bodies raised imperishable, souls made whole, creation set free (1 Cor 15:42-49; Rom 8:21). The same power that raised Jesus from the dead is the down-payment on our own resurrection (Eph 1:13-14; Rom 8:11).

This is why the New Testament writers spoke with triumph. “Death is swallowed up in victory!” (1 Cor 15:54). The last enemy is defeated, not negotiated with.

What will this immortality feel like? Revelation gives us the clearest glimpse: God Himself will wipe away every tear. Death, mourning, crying, and pain will be former things, remembered no more (Rev 21:4). We will see His face (Rev 22:4). We will know as we are known (1 Cor 13:12). Every longing planted in us by the Creator, longings for beauty, for love, for purpose, for home, will be satisfied beyond imagination, yet never exhausted. Eternity will not be monotonous; it will be the ever-fresh discovery of the infinite God! 

The world groans, our bodies weaken, our hearts break, but none of it is the final word. Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. And when He appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is (1 John 3:2).

Until that day, let this joy shape everything. Work without despair. Love without fear of loss. Suffer without bitterness. Give without calculation. The clock is broken, the future is secure. We are headed toward a life where sin cannot diminish us, death cannot touch us, and God will be our everlasting light.

This is the joy of immortality: not just that we will live forever, but that we will live forever with Him, fully alive and fully home.

Come, Lord Jesus.

The Tragedy of Judas: When a Heart Hardens Against Grace

Let us search our hearts with ruthless honesty, bringing every hidden sin, every cherished idol, every secret compromise into the light of Christ’s presence. Let us choose Peter’s path of humble repentance over Judas’s path of proud despair.

Brent Pollard

 The Humanity of Christ in the Face of Betrayal

In John 13:21-30, Christ reveals a profound insight into His humanity. Jesus, with a troubled spirit, revealed the identity of His betrayer through an act of fellowship—the sharing of bread. Jesus’ action was not a casual disclosure. The text reveals a Savior who experienced the weight of impending betrayal with genuine human anguish. He had chosen someone He knew to be a devil (John 6.70), and now the hour had arrived for that devil to execute his dark purpose.

Even in this moment of revelation, we witness Christ’s unwavering mercy. His acknowledgment of what Judas was about to do served as a final lifeline extended to the infamous traitor—one last opportunity to turn back from the precipice. This enduring mercy is a beacon of hope for all of us, reminding us that no matter how far we may have strayed, Christ’s grace is always within reach.

The Hardening Power of Unrepentant Sin

Sadly, Judas’s love of money and his own twisted ambitions had calcified his heart against both the deeds and words of Jesus. He had already negotiated his treachery, his mind fixed on the thirty pieces of silver promised by the chief priests (Matthew 26.14-16). Here we see a sobering truth: sustained exposure to Christ does not guarantee transformation. One can walk in the very presence of the Son of God and yet remain unmoved, unchanged, unredeemed.

The text tells us that “Satan entered” Judas (John 13.27). But what does this mean? We must resist the temptation to absolve Judas of responsibility by imagining some irresistible demonic possession. No, Satan did not override the will of a helpless man. Instead, he exploited the foothold Judas had already granted through his unrepentant sin, his corrosive greed, and his fundamental lack of faith. The phrase “Satan entered” signifies Judas’s complete surrender to the evil influence he had been cultivating in his own heart. It marked a decisive point of no return, the final rejection of Jesus’s appeals to repentance.

The Reality of Moral Agency Even in Darkness

Here we encounter a mystery that the shallow mind cannot fathom: even after Satan entered Judas, he retained sufficient moral agency to feel guilt, to return the blood money to the chief priests, and ultimately to take his own life (Matthew 27.3-5). This remorse, though powerful, was not genuine repentance. True repentance would have driven him to God for forgiveness, as Peter’s denial later drove him to weeping restoration. Instead, Judas’s guilt led only to despair—a worldly sorrow that produces death rather than the godly sorrow that leads to salvation.

James illuminates the progression: a person becomes enslaved to sin by yielding to their own lust. When that lust conceives, it gives birth to sin. When sin reaches full maturity, it brings forth death (James 1.13-15). Judas walked this path to its bitter end, each step a choice, each choice hardening the next.

The Contrast of Two Betrayers: Judas and Peter

The story of Judas serves as a stark warning about the human capacity to reject grace, even when confronted with overwhelming love and unmistakable conviction. While God’s offer of salvation extends to everyone, it requires a willing and humble heart to receive it. Judas’s ultimate fate—despair and suicide—stands in sharp contrast to Peter, who, despite his own devastating denial, turned to Jesus in repentance and received complete forgiveness.

Both men betrayed Christ. Both felt crushing guilt. Yet their responses diverged at the crucial point: Peter ran toward mercy; Judas ran from it. Peter believed forgiveness was possible; Judas believed his sin was unforgivable. This stark contrast serves as a powerful reminder of the impact our choices can have on our lives.

Practical Warning: The Danger of Walking with Jesus Without Surrender

Judas serves as a tragic example of someone who allowed his lust for money and power to lead him toward betrayal and destruction. His story reveals an uncomfortable truth: even people who walk closely with Jesus, witness His miracles, hear His teachings, and participate in His ministry can fall prey to the temptations of this world if they do not genuinely surrender their hearts.

What distinguished Judas from the other disciples was not the absence of sin—they all sinned—but the presence of unrepentant, cherished sin that he refused to bring into the light.

Closing: A Call to Self-Examination

The question Judas’s life poses to each of us is searingly personal: Are we cultivating hardness in our hearts through unconfessed sin? Are we, like Judas, close to Jesus in proximity but distant in devotion? Do we serve Him with our hands while withholding our hearts? The grace that could have saved Judas is the same grace offered to us today. But grace must be received, not merely observed. You should embrace it rather than acknowledge it.

Let us search our hearts with ruthless honesty, bringing every hidden sin, every cherished idol, every secret compromise into the light of Christ’s presence. Let us choose Peter’s path of humble repentance over Judas’s path of proud despair. The same Christ who extended mercy to His betrayer still extends it to us—but we must reach out and take hold of it before our hearts grow too hard to feel His touch. The time to respond is now, while the Spirit still speaks, while grace still calls, while the door of repentance remains open. Tomorrow may find us, like Judas, having crossed a point of no return that we never saw coming.

The Debt Of Love

The hymn “Alas and Did My Savior Bleed” captures the heart of the Christian response to Jesus’ sacrifice: “But drops of grief can ne’er repay the debt of love I owe; Here, Lord, I give myself away, ’tis all that I can do.” This “debt of love” isn’t like the $18 trillion in financial debt Americans carry…

Carl Pollard

The hymn “Alas and Did My Savior Bleed” captures the heart of the Christian response to Jesus’ sacrifice: “But drops of grief can ne’er repay the debt of love I owe; Here, Lord, I give myself away, ’tis all that I can do.” This “debt of love” isn’t like the $18 trillion in financial debt Americans carry, like mortgages, credit cards, or student loans. Unlike monetary debt, the debt of love is a lifelong obligation, as Paul writes in Romans 13:8, “Owe no one anything, except to love one another.” 

In Luke 7:36-50, we see this debt of love unfold in an account of grace and judgment, humility and pride. Jesus dines at the home of Simon, a Pharisee who prides himself on strict adherence to the law. In first-century Jewish culture, dining was an honor, yet Simon’s hospitality is cold. He offers Jesus no water for His feet, no kiss of greeting, no oil for His head. These were customary acts of respect (vv. 44-46). His indifference reveals a heart of pride.

Then enters an uninvited woman, a “sinner” (hamartōlos in Greek), likely notorious in her community, possibly a prostitute. Her presence in a Pharisee’s home is unheard of, yet she brings an alabaster jar of perfume, worth a year’s wages, and pours out her worship. Weeping loudly, she wets Jesus’ feet with her tears, wipes them with her hair, kisses them, and anoints them with perfume (v. 38). While Simon is judging silently the whole time! He questions Jesus’ discernment: “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him” (v. 39). Simon’s pride blinds him, while the woman’s humility drives her to worship.

Jesus responds with a parable: two debtors owe a moneylender, one 500 denarii (two years’ wages), the other 50 (two months’ income). Neither can pay, but both are forgiven. “Which will love him more?” Jesus asks (vv. 41-42). Simon answers, “The one who had the bigger debt forgiven” (v. 43). The woman, aware of her great debt, offers extravagant love; Simon, assuming his debt is small, offers none.

Jesus contrasts their actions: “You gave me no water… but she wet my feet with her tears… You gave me no kiss, but she has not stopped kissing my feet” (vv. 44-45). He says, “Her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown” (v. 47). Her love doesn’t earn forgiveness; it’s evidence of grace received through faith (v. 50). Simon, believing he needs little forgiveness, loves little.

So where do we stand? Like Simon, do we judge others while ignoring our own sin? Romans 3:23 reminds us, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Colossians 2:14 declares Jesus “canceled the record of debt… nailing it to the cross.” If our love for Him has grown cold, perhaps we’ve forgotten the weight of that debt.

Picture this woman, broken at Jesus’ feet, offering her tears and treasure. Now picture yourself. Are you offering pride or worship? Let’s remember the cross, where Jesus paid our unpayable debt. We would do well to pour out our lives like her perfume, through worship, obedience, and love for others.

Crucifying The Flesh

Being a follower of Christ demands constant self-examination. Each day, we wake up asking, “What do I need to work on today?” One persistent battle we face is the flesh, our sinful nature that pulls us off track, like that wobbly Walmart shopping cart wheel that requires constant correction.

Carl Pollard

Being a follower of Christ demands constant self-examination. Each day, we wake up asking, “What do I need to work on today?” One persistent battle we face is the flesh, our sinful nature that pulls us off track, like that wobbly Walmart shopping cart wheel that requires constant correction. Galatians 5:24 says, “Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.” But what does it mean to crucify the flesh, and how do we live it out in a world brimming with temptation?

In Galatians 5, Paul describes the flesh not as our physical bodies but as our sinful desires that rebel against God. Galatians 5:17 explains, “The flesh lusts against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; they are contrary to one another.” The flesh urges us to lash out in anger, indulge in lust, gossip, or hold grudges. Paul lists its acts: sexual immorality, hatred, jealousy, rage, selfish ambition (Galatians 5:19-21). These are symptoms of a heart not fully surrendered to God. The flesh promises satisfaction but delivers emptiness, chaining us to sin. Recognizing this enemy within is the first step to living for Christ.

Crucifixion, in Roman times, was a brutal, final punishment. Paul’s use of this term signals a decisive, no-turning-back commitment to put sinful desires to death. Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily” (Luke 9:23). This daily choice means saying no to pride, bitterness, or greed and yes to humility, forgiveness, and generosity.

The key to crucifying the flesh lies in belonging to Christ. When we surrender to Him, we’re united in His death and resurrection (Romans 6:5-6). His victory over sin becomes ours, and His Spirit empowers us to resist temptation. This is why Paul confidently states we “have crucified” the flesh, a present reality for Christians. Living like we belong to Jesus means choosing the Spirit daily, allowing it to produce love, joy, peace, and other fruits (Galatians 5:22-23) in our lives.

To crucify the flesh, start with confession and repentance, naming and turning from sin (1 John 1:9). Rely on the Spirit through prayer and God’s Word. Choose daily obedience, saying no to temptation and yes to love. Crucifying the flesh isn’t restriction, it’s liberation, freeing us to run the race God has set before us. What needs to be nailed to the cross today? Lay it at Jesus’ feet and live the life He promised.

The Relationship Between Preachers And Elders

There are too many horror stories about dysfunctional relationships between preachers and elders. The church hurts and is hurt when there is friction, disunity, and rivalry between these two vital roles. There may be many reasons for why such exists, instances where there is blame on one side or the other or on both sides.

Neal Pollard

There are too many horror stories about dysfunctional relationships between preachers and elders. The church hurts and is hurt when there is friction, disunity, and rivalry between these two vital roles. There may be many reasons for why such exists, instances where there is blame on one side or the other or on both sides. But, stating the obvious, an adversarial attitude should not exist. To the contrary, there should be great love and unity between them. 

The best New Testament example we have of the elder-preacher relationship is Acts 20:17-38, between Paul and the Ephesian elders. Paul was their local preacher for at least three years (31). Luke records what that relationship looked like. What words describe their relationship together?

  • TIME (18). Paul and these elders were together. Relationships require time. What will happen when elders and preachers never collaborate, work together, and engage in fellowship and social time together? Paul said he was with them “the whole time.” 
  • HUMILITY (18). Pride and ego are damaging, destructive, and devastating qualities. “A man wrapped up in himself makes a very small package.” There is no place for pride in healthy leadership. There must be an ability to admit wrong and an attitude of putting others above self (cf. Phil. 2:3-4). Elders must desire the flock to follow the Chief Shepherd, not themselves (29-30). Preachers must be found “serving the Lord with all humility” (19). 
  • EMOTION (19, 37-38). This is beautiful. Luke notes the tears of the preacher (19) and the elders (37). If there is ever a time when a man should shed tears, it ought to be over spiritual things. Relationships are forged when elders and preachers expend emotion over their mutual work. 
  • HONESTY (20,27-28). Relationships are undermined by dishonesty, aren’t they? Honesty is about more than merely telling the truth. It’s about not withholding, in proper spirit and attitude, what the other really needs to hear. In a healthy relationship, where each is assured of the love and confidence of the other, that honesty can exist. Paul did not “shrink back from declaring to [them] anything that was profitable” (20). He did not shrink back from declaring to them the whole purpose of God (27). There must be an atmosphere of trust, where neither side is afraid to speak with kind frankness. 
  • INTEGRITY (20-21,28,33-35). Akin to honesty is integrity. This speaks to character and principle. It drove Paul to work hard in ministry. It drove the elders to guard and shepherd the flock (28). It drove Paul to avoid covetousness and materialism (33). It drove a desire to prefer giving to receiving (35). Godly leaders are men of character!
  • COURAGE (22-28). Neither shepherding nor preaching is for sissies! Timidity and lack of conviction greatly damages the church. Paul relegated his own life to second position to the gospel (22,24). Faithful shepherding required the same (28). 
  • COMMENDATION (32,38). This is crucial! Balancing with the occasional need to confront each other with care is the need for each to generously, genuinely, and publicly praise and commend one another. Nothing demonstrates unity in a congregation more than elders praising the preachers behind their backs, and preachers praising the elders behind their backs. Certainly, it’s good for each to overhear the other, too. The word “commend” in verse 32 means to place before, give or provide. Paul’s commending them to the grace of God was committing them to it. But, the general tone of the relationship was one of praise for the other’s work. 

Notice how they part company. It’s beautiful and it should typify the elder-preacher relationship today. “When he had said these things, he knelt down and prayed with them all. And they began to weep aloud and embraced Paul, and repeatedly kissed him, grieving especially over the word which he had spoken, that they would not see his face again. And they were accompanying him to the ship” (36-38). They prayed together. They were unashamedly affectionate. They loved one another and liked one another. They hated to part company. Does that seem strange or foreign to you? I hope not! It’s our best New Testament pattern for what that relationship should look like! May it characterize this relationship in every congregation today! 

Standing In The Gap

Prayer is a divine weapon, a sacred act that Satan dreads when wielded by faithful Christians. In the church, prayer is God’s design to weave us into a tight-knit community, binding us closer than proximity ever could. James 5:16 says, “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.” Intercessory prayer, lifting others before God’s throne, is a duty and privilege that transforms both the pray-er and the prayed-for.

Carl Pollard

Prayer is a divine weapon, a sacred act that Satan dreads when wielded by faithful Christians. In the church, prayer is God’s design to weave us into a tight-knit community, binding us closer than proximity ever could. James 5:16 says, “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.” Intercessory prayer, lifting others before God’s throne, is a duty and privilege that transforms both the pray-er and the prayed-for.

Why pray for each other? Scripture commands it. Matthew 5:44 urges us to pray even for enemies, fulfilling the call to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39). Pray for others the way you’d pray for yourself! Colossians 1:9 Paul models ceaseless prayer for others’ spiritual growth, while Galatians 6:2 frames intercession as bearing one another’s burdens, fulfilling Christ’s law. Hebrews 10:24–25 reminds us that prayer knits the church together, spurring love and good deeds. Yet, how often do our prayers default to vague “bless them” pleas or focus solely on physical needs? Intentional intercession digs deeper, aligning with God’s will.

Biblical heroes show us this. Abraham pleaded for Sodom’s salvation (Genesis 18:22–33), mirroring God’s heart for the wicked to turn and live (Ezekiel 33:11). Moses stood in the gap for idolatrous Israel, offering his life to secure their forgiveness (Exodus 32:11–14, 31–32; Psalm 106:23). Jesus, in His High Priestly Prayer (John 17:1–26), interceded for His disciples’ protection, sanctification, and unity, modeling prayers for eternal impact. Paul’s prayers for the churches (Ephesians 1:15–23; Colossians 1:9–12) prioritized spiritual wisdom and strength over physical circumstances.

To pray intentionally, embrace three keys. First, keep God’s bigger story in mind. While praying for safety or healing is valid, God often uses trials to shape us into Christ’s image (Romans 8:28–29; James 1:2–4). Like Jesus in Luke 22:42, balance requests for relief with surrender to God’s will, praying for faithfulness through suffering. Second, use biblical models to form your prayers. The Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9–13) prioritizes God’s will and provision, while Paul’s prayers (Ephesians 3:16–17) seek spiritual depth. Third, pray specifically and with persistence, as 1 John 5:14–15 assures that prayers aligned with God’s will are heard.

Intercessory prayer is a sacrificial act of love, a call to stand in the gap for others, as Moses did, or to plead for unity, as Jesus did. It’s a rebellion against Satan’s schemes, a bridge to connect our church, and a path to spiritual maturity. So, who are you praying for today? Let’s commit to intentional, fervent intercession, trusting God to work mightily through our prayers.

More Than A Dinner

One of the most endearing, beautiful features of the Lord’s church is the “one another” aspect of it. Have you seen it at work when someone comes forward during the invitation song, pleading for help with something in their life?

Neal Pollard

Florida Gators’ quarterback D.J. Lagway had just endured a terrible game the week before, throwing five interceptions against the LSU Tigers. That included a “pick six,” as safety Dashawn Spears returned his third pick for a touchdown. In a post-game interview, Lagway confessed, “I played horrible football today,. I’ve never had a performance like that in my life, so it’s kind of hard to process it, but at the end of the day, it’s all about how you bounce back’ (alligator.org).

Lagway’s teammates sensed that this was crushing for the young signal caller, so they made a decision. About 40 of them, the following Wednesday, took him to dinner. Head Coach Billy Napier explained that it was to “just to put their arms around him and move past it” (hailfloridahail.com). College Gameday’s Kirk Herbstreit saw this as a positive sign about where the team culture was. While Florida fans, witnessing the Gators’ atrocious 1-3 start, may see the positive culture as little more than a “moral victory,” it is the gesture that merits closer attention.

One of the most endearing, beautiful features of the Lord’s church is the “one another” aspect of it. Have you seen it at work when someone comes forward during the invitation song, pleading for help with something in their life? People will rally on the front pew with them. Scores more will come put their arms around them afterward. Even more will text, send cards, and otherwise make contact to check on them. Here is someone who may have failed or struggled in a way much more significant than a game, who confesses to failure or weakness. They feel defeated, weak, or overwhelmed, and, in vulnerability, they make that known.

What does the rest of the spiritual team do? They put their arms around them and move past it! It is significant that the Bible talks to us about this. James writes, “Therefore, confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another so that you may be healed” (5:16a). Think back to the proverb which says, “He who conceals his transgressions will not prosper, But he who confesses and forsakes them will find compassion” (Prov. 28:13). The parable of the Prodigal Son not only shows how God responds when a sinner “comes home,” but it is the right response of the spiritually healthy to the spiritual struggler (Luke 15:22-32).

Let’s keep our eyes open for those who are limping along the road of life or even sitting there with their head in their hands. They may be ready to give up, but for a boost of encouragement from a brother or sister who cares. Your compassion might make all the difference!

A New Heart From Jesus

Carl Pollard

As fall’s soft breeze turns to unexpected warmth, we feel the stir of change. But pain and loss are felt by many. These tragedies of the past week show our world needs Jesus, badly. Without Him in our homes and families, we see brokenness. Ezekiel 36:26 gives hope: “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”

Ezekiel spoke to God’s people in exile, far from home because they turned to idols. Their hard hearts led to trouble (Ezekiel 36:16-20). But God promised mercy, a new heart and His Spirit to help them obey (v. 27). This promise comes true in Jesus and the Holy Spirit (John 3:5-6). Charlie Kirk was a young father and husband, killed at a school event over political disagreement. This shows us what hard hearts can do. Yet, God can soften our hearts, filling them with His love. 

Change starts inside. We give our hearts to Jesus, and He makes them new. John 16:33 says, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”That’s our peace, when the world is knee deep in anger and despair, Jesus wins over death. No matter the pain, we can trust Him and stay steady.

Romans 12:21 tells us, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” Evil, like the violence that took innocent lives comes from Satan (John 10:10). But we’re called to love, forgive, and share Jesus’ hope. In Luke 19, Zacchaeus met Jesus and changed, giving generously, fixing wrongs. His new heart showed. We’re to shine like that, letting our lives point to God (Matthew 5:16).

Our country needs Jesus. Psalm 127:1 says, “Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain.” Without God, we get chaos. But 2 Chronicles 7:14 shows the way: pray, humble ourselves, seek God. Healing starts in our hearts and homes.

Come, Lord Jesus. Let’s let Him change our hearts, rest in His promises, and do good to fight evil. When we put Jesus in our families, we bring His hope to our nation, one new heart at a time

The Power Of Kindness

You don’t have to look any further than Jesus’ life. Kindness is seen in His compassionate interactions with the poor and needy. He showed kindness by healing the leper (Mark 1:40-42) and forgiving the adulterous woman (John 8:1-11).

Carl Pollard

Kindness, a fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22), is a profound expression of God’s character and a cornerstone of Christian living. The Greek word chrēstotēs is best described as goodness, generosity, and a disposition to act with compassion. When we study the idea of kindness in scripture, it is filled with theological depth and practical implications, calling us to embody Christ’s love in a broken world.

Scripture consistently portrays kindness as a reflection of God’s nature. In Titus 3:4, Paul writes of “the kindness and love of God our Savior” appearing through Christ’s redemptive work, emphasizing that divine kindness is the basis for salvation. This is also seen in Ephesians 2:7, where God’s grace is expressed “in his kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.” So kindness isn’t just a human virtue but a divine attribute christians are called to imitate! You don’t have to look any further than Jesus’ life. Kindness is seen in His compassionate interactions with the poor and needy. He showed kindness by healing the leper (Mark 1:40-42) and forgiving the adulterous woman (John 8:1-11).

The call to kindness is active and intentional. Colossians 3:12 instructs Christians, as God’s chosen ones, to “put on… kindness,” suggesting a deliberate choice to clothe ourselves in compassionate actions. This is seen with the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), where kindness transcends cultural and social barriers, demonstrating love through sacrificial care. Kindness is not passive; it requires courage to act justly and love mercy (Micah 6:8), even when inconvenient or costly.

In a world marked by division, kindness becomes a powerful tool for the spreading of the gospel. Romans 2:4 says that God’s kindness leads to repentance, suggesting that our acts of kindness can draw others to Christ. A kind word, a generous deed, or a forgiving spirit can soften hearts and reflect God’s love. 

Kindness is a daily calling to mirror Christ’s compassion. It challenges us to extend grace to the undeserving, forgive the offender, and serve the overlooked. As we practice kindness, we participate in God’s redemptive work, softening hearts to His love. 

Let’s live kindly, reflecting the Savior’s heart in every interaction.