Finishing the Race with Grace

My only aim is to finish the race and complete the task 

the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying 

to the good news of God’s grace.

Acts 20:24 

Paul’s words echo with purpose, passion, and profound surrender. He wasn’t driven by comfort or acclaim, but by a singular, holy ambition: to finish the race and complete the task God gave him. That task? To testify to the gospel of God’s grace.

This wasn’t an easy calling. Paul endured imprisonments, beatings, betrayals, shipwrecks, sleepless nights, and ceaseless opposition. He writes of tears and warnings of suffering in every city. Yet he pressed on—not because he enjoyed hardship, but because he knew what was at stake: the salvation of souls and the glory of Christ.

Grace fueled Paul’s mission. Grace found him on the road to Damascus, forgave his past, and commissioned his future. And that same grace compelled him to offer everything—even his life—for the sake of others.

Paul knew the secret of endurance wasn’t strength, but surrender. He clung to the promise God had spoken to him: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

This was the grace that empowered him to preach, to persevere, and to press on—knowing that his weakness was the very stage upon which God’s power was displayed. Grace didn’t just save Paul; it sustained him every step of the race.

“Grace is the voice that calls us to change and 

then gives us the power to pull it off.” - Max Lucado

To finish the race means daily obedience. Small acts of faithfulness. Perseverance in trial. Speaking truth with love. Living with eternity in view. You are part of God’s mission—right where you are.

Even when no one sees, heaven watches. Every quiet sacrifice, every whispered prayer, every decision to love when it’s hard—weaves into the greater story of God’s redeeming work.

Prayer:

Lord Jesus, thank You for calling me to this race of grace. Help me not to measure success by ease or applause, but by faithfulness to Your call. Strengthen me when the path is steep, and remind me that even in hardship, Your grace is sufficient. May I finish well—bringing glory to You and hope to others. Amen.

Committing Our Plans to the Lord

“Commit to the LORD whatever you do, 

and your plans will succeed.” 

Proverbs 16:3

Today we visited the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., and were especially struck by Auguste Rodin’s sculpture The Thinker. Rodin described the figure not as a dreamer, but as a man locked in battle with an idea. The sculpture reveals that deep thought is not passive—it is embodied, urgent, and transformative. In a similar way, committing our lives to God isn’t a quiet, detached act—it calls for our whole selves: heart, mind, and strength. It is a courageous movement toward God’s will, even when the path is unclear.

To commit to the Lord is more than a spiritual gesture—it is a deliberate act of surrender. The Hebrew word used here means to “roll” or “entrust” our works entirely onto God. We release control, trusting that His wisdom surpasses our own. As Psalm 37:5 echoes, “Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him and he will do this.”

In a world full of anxious striving, this verse offers deep rest. Our part is obedience; God’s part is the outcome. We may plan our path, but “the LORD establishes our steps” (Proverbs 16:9). He does not merely rubber-stamp our ambitions—He lovingly redirects them to align with His eternal purposes.

The apostle Paul lived this truth. Though a master strategist, he continually sought God’s leading. He wrote, “I will come to you if the Lord wills” (1 Corinthians 4:19), showing his dependence on divine direction. Even when his plans were delayed or opposed, Paul trusted God was working through it all (Romans 8:28).

Plan with God. Align your vision with His will. Whether in silence or chaos, God remains sovereign. Trust Him to direct your steps and establish your plans—for He alone knows the way that leads to life.

Prayer

Lord, I commit my plans to You today. Align my heart with Your will. Give me the courage to follow, the wisdom to wait, and the faith to trust. Establish my steps, and lead me in Your way. Amen.

The Company We Keep

Choosing a Godly Spouse

“Do not be misled: ‘Bad company corrupts good character.’” 

 1 Corinthians 15:33 (NIV)

In 1 Kings 21, we encounter one of the darkest pairings in Scripture: King Ahab and Queen Jezebel. While Ahab was already a compromised man, Scripture makes a striking observation: “There was never anyone like Ahab, who sold himself to do evil in the eyes of the Lord, urged on by Jezebel his wife” (1 Kings 21:25). Jezebel didn’t simply enable Ahab’s sin—she escalated it. Her ruthless pursuit of power, idolatry, and violence became the fuel that drove Ahab deeper into rebellion against God.

This tragic story serves as a sobering reminder: the people closest to us profoundly shape who we become. Nowhere is this more true than in marriage. The one we choose to walk through life with can either lead us closer to God or away from Him. As Proverbs 12:4 teaches, “A wife of noble character is her husband’s crown, but a disgraceful wife is like decay in his bones.” The same could be said of a husband. Spouses are not just companions—they are spiritual partners.

The right spouse, centered on Christ, can be a source of strength, wisdom, and grace. Ecclesiastes 4:9–10 reminds us, “Two are better than one… If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.” But if one drags the other down, it can result in mutual destruction. Theologian Matthew Henry once wrote, “Those who do not fear God themselves are not likely to make good counselors to others.”

Ahab’s downfall was not inevitable. God sent prophets, signs, and even mercy—but Jezebel hardened his heart. Contrast that with Priscilla and Aquila in the New Testament (Acts 18:26), a husband-and-wife team who worked side by side with Paul, hosted a house church, and together taught Apollos “the way of God more accurately.” The difference is striking.Their marriage was marked by shared purpose, spiritual unity, and humble service—an example of how a godly union can advance the kingdom of God and nurture truth in others.

Reflection:

Whom we choose to walk with matters. Whether single or married, we should seek relationships that stir up love for Christ. And if we are married, we are called to be that source of godly encouragement for our spouse—lifting them toward Jesus, not away from Him.

Prayer:

Lord, help me to walk closely with those who love You and to be a faithful encourager to those around me. If I am married, make me a blessing to my spouse. And if I am waiting, give me wisdom to choose someone who will love You above all. Amen.

Closer Than You Think

“God did this so that they would seek him and

 perhaps reach out for him and find him, 

though he is not far from any one of us.” 

 Acts 17:27 

Scripture Reading: Acts 17:16-34

God is not distant. He is not hiding. Acts 17:27 reminds us that His very purpose in creation was that we might seek Him, reach out, and find Him—because He is not far from any one of us. This verse assures us that our desire to know God isn’t a human invention—it’s a divine invitation. Even our longing to seek Him is itself a sign that He is drawing near. As the psalmist writes, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands” (Psalm 19:1). Creation whispers of His presence, and every human heart is wired to respond.

Paul delivered this truth in Athens, standing among philosophers and skeptics. He didn’t begin by quoting Scripture, but by pointing to something familiar: an altar “to an unknown god.” From there, he gently guided his listeners toward the truth of the living God, Creator of heaven and earth, and the risen Christ.

And yet, Acts 17:32–34 shows us that even such a powerful message received mixed reactions: “Some sneered, but others said, ‘We want to hear you again on this subject.’” A few—like Dionysius and Damaris—believed.

This moment teaches us a valuable truth: not everyone will accept the message of Christ. But that should never keep us from speaking. Even if some mock or some remain undecided, there are always those whose hearts are ready. Even one soul turning to Christ makes every word and every effort worthwhile.

So don’t hold back in sharing your faith. Don’t fear rejection or wait for perfect results. The seeds of faith you sow today may take root later—in God’s timing, not yours. So take courage. Whether you feel spiritually strong or weary, God is near. And as you witness to others, remember: you are simply joining Him in the work He’s already doing in hearts—often quietly, always faithfully.

Prayer:

Lord, thank You that You are near and that You invite us to seek and find You. Help me to trust that You are at work in the lives of those I care about. Give me courage to speak with love, patience to wait on Your timing, and joy in knowing that even one heart turning to You is worth everything. Amen.

Just in Time

Trusting God’s Provision

Last year, we visited Harlem and stood outside the home where Corrie ten Boom once lived. Though the street has changed with time, the spirit of her courage and faith still lingers there. It was deeply moving to stand in the very place where she and her family risked everything to shelter Jews during World War II. Corrie’s life remains a powerful witness to God’s faithfulness—even in the darkest times.

She once told a story from her childhood that continues to speak deeply: as a little girl, she worried she wouldn’t be strong enough to suffer for Christ. Her father responded with wisdom: “When you take a train trip to Amsterdam, when do I give you the ticket?” She answered, “Just before we get on the train.” He nodded, “Exactly. And so it is with God. He gives you the strength you need—just in time.”

Jesus Himself assures us of the same: “Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him” (Matthew 6:8). That’s the kind of God we serve—one who sees ahead, knows our needs, and provides at the right moment.

This truth echoes in Scripture through the life of Elijah. In 1 Kings 17, God sends Elijah to speak a hard truth, then leads him into hiding. In the wilderness, ravens feed him with bread and meat. When the brook runs dry, God opens a new door—a poor widow in Zarephath who, though she has almost nothing, becomes God’s vessel of provision. Elijah tells her: “The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the Lord sends rain on the land” (1 Kings 17:14). And it was so.

Paul reminds us: “And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19). And Jesus teaches us to pray: “Give us this day our daily bread” (Matthew 6:11)—a call to daily dependence on God.

God doesn’t promise to show us tomorrow’s provision today. But He does promise to meet us where we are, with what we need—just in time. What are you facing that feels uncertain or empty? Like Elijah and Corrie, trust and obey. God’s sustaining power may come through unexpected means, but it will come.

Prayer:

Lord, thank You for Your daily faithfulness. When our brooks dry up and our hands feel empty, help us trust that You are already making a way. Teach us to walk in obedience, give with generosity, and trust You fully. Just as You did for Elijah—and Corrie—provide for us, creatively and compassionately, just in time. Amen.

Grace That Transforms

A Reflection on Les Misérables

Today we had the joy of seeing Les Misérables performed at the Kennedy Center—a powerful, moving production. The cast, staging, and music were superb, capturing the emotional weight and spiritual depth of Victor Hugo’s masterpiece. Afterward, we had a rare opportunity to glimpse behind the scenes—to see the intricacies of stage management and the sophisticated audio systems that bring ,this story to life. It was a reminder that what looks seamless on the surface is supported by unseen work and quiet excellence—much like grace itself.

At the heart of Les Misérables is the story of Jean Valjean, a man shattered by injustice, transformed by mercy. Nineteen years in prison for stealing bread leaves him bitter and broken. While on parol Valjean had stolen the silver in the night, ready to disappear into a life shaped by bitterness and survival. When the police bring him back, expecting condemnation, the bishop instead confirms the gift and adds even more—silver candlesticks—symbols of light and calling. 

In that moment, Valjean is not just released from legal chains; he is set free from the deeper prison of shame and despair, awakened to the possibility of becoming something new. But one unmerited act of grace—a bishop’s refusal to condemn—sets Valjean on a path of redemption. “I have bought your soul for God,” says the bishop. That moment is not only pivotal in the plot; it mirrors the Gospel.

Valjean’s redemption doesn’t usher him into a life of ease—it draws him into a life of sacrificial love. He becomes a protector of the vulnerable, a father to the orphaned Cosette, and a man who extends mercy even to those who seek his harm. In stark contrast, Inspector Javert relentlessly pursues Valjean, bound to a rigid code of law devoid of compassion—and in the end, it is his inability to comprehend grace that undoes him.

We, too, were once captives—enslaved by guilt, bound by sin, and burdened by shame we could not erase. But Jesus, through the sacrifice of His nail-pierced hands, paid the price for our freedom and claimed us as His own, as Paul declares: “You were bought at a price; therefore honor God with your bodies” (1 Corinthians 6:20).

Les Misérables is a parable for our times. Grace is not only the beginning of our story—it’s the atmosphere in which we live, forgive, and serve.

Prayer: 

Lord Jesus, thank You for the grace that finds us, forgives us, and transforms us. May we, like Valjean, live in response to Your mercy—with quiet courage, sacrificial love, and a heart anchored in You. Amen.

Tell the Next Generation

“We will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done… so the next generation would know them… and they in turn would tell their children.” — Psalm 78:4, 6

Psalm 78 is a summons to sacred memory. Asaph, the psalmist, opens with an urgent appeal: “My people, hear my teaching; listen to the words of my mouth” (v.1). What follows is not merely a history lesson—it is a spiritual inheritance. We are stewards of a story too good to keep to ourselves.

God’s faithfulness spans generations. He performed wonders in Egypt, led His people through the wilderness, gave them His Word at Sinai, and raised up leaders like David. But these stories must not fade into distant memory. “We will not hide them from their descendants,” Asaph says. Instead, we must tell—tell the stories of God’s goodness, so that “they would put their trust in God and not forget his deeds but would keep his commands” (v.7).

Every Christian has a testimony. It may not include parting seas or burning bushes, but if God has met you in your brokenness, forgiven your sins, or comforted you in sorrow, you have a story worth sharing. As Eugene Peterson wrote, “Memory is the most important element in the spiritual life.” Forgetfulness leads to rebellion (v.8); remembrance leads to trust.

Charles Spurgeon encouraged believers: “Tell your children of it, and let your grandchildren hear of it, and hand it down to the generation following.” This is how faith endures—not through silence, but through witness.

Let us be a people who hear God’s Word, remind one another of His deeds, and remember His faithfulness—so the next generation will rise up, trust in the Lord, and keep His commands.

Prayer:

Lord, thank You for the faithful ones who passed down the truth of who You are. Help us to be bold and loving in sharing our stories of Your power and grace. Let the next generation rise with hearts loyal to You. Amen 

Led Like a Flock

The Final Word 

“You led your people like a flock 

by the hand of Moses and Aaron.” 

Psalm 77:20 

Psalm 77 is a journey through anguish, doubt, and silence. It begins with raw lament and ends not with resolution, but with quiet reassurance. The final verse offers a powerful image: “You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.” After all the questions and sleepless nights, the psalmist affirms this one unshakable truth—God still leads His people. He does not abandon the flock in the valley. Even when His footprints are unseen (v.19), His presence is sure.

This shepherding imagery runs deep in Scripture. From “The Lord is my shepherd” in Psalm 23 to Jesus declaring, “I am the good shepherd” (John 10:14), God reveals Himself as One who walks beside His people. He doesn’t always explain the path, but He promises His presence on it. In the wilderness, God led Israel not with loud miracles alone, but through the steady hands of Moses and Aaron. 

What’s striking is that God chose flawed leaders. Moses doubted his calling. Aaron stumbled along the way. Yet God used them. He entrusted His people to their care. This reminds us that God leads not only directly, but also through the ordinary people He places around us—pastors, parents, mentors, friends—those who walk beside us in our uncertainty and faith.

Walter Brueggemann writes, “Even in silence, Yahweh leads.” We may feel lost, without direction or clarity. But this verse whispers assurance: we are still being led. Not driven. Not forgotten. Led—gently, patiently, like a flock under the care of a faithful Shepherd.

Let this final word of Psalm 77 anchor us. God is our Shepherd. His hand is steady, even when hidden. He is leading us through.

Prayer:

Lord Jesus, our Shepherd, thank You for leading us—gently and faithfully—through every storm. Even when we cannot see the path, help us to trust that You are guiding us. Use others to walk beside us, and teach us to follow You, one quiet step at a time. Amen.