MAY 30, 2026

  "I wanted you to see what real courage is, it's when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what." - Harper Lee 

1 CHRONICLES 28-29

David, in the final moments of his leadership, speaks directly to his son Solomon—not just as a father, but as a servant of God passing the torch. He urges Solomon to know the Lord intimately, to serve Him with wholehearted devotion and a willing spirit. God knows every motive, every hidden desire—and He promises to be found by those who seek Him. But David doesn't just offer spiritual encouragement; he delivers a charge. “Be strong and do the work,” he says. The work of building God’s house isn’t just a task—it’s a calling. (1 Chronicles 28:9–10)

JOHN 11:47-57

In contrast, the religious elite gather in fear and desperation. Jesus had performed undeniable signs, but instead of celebrating the miracles, they saw them as threats to their control. Caiaphas, high priest that year, unknowingly prophesies the truth: that one man—Jesus—would die for the people, not just for Israel but to gather all of God's scattered children. From that moment, they begin to plot His death. The work Jesus was sent to do was unfolding, not with fanfare or applause, but with conspiracy and sacrifice. (John 11:47–53).

JOURNAL 

As I read through the account of David preparing Solomon to build the Temple, what stood out to me was the incredible level of detail God provided. Nothing was left to chance. The design, the materials, the furnishings, the responsibilities, even the placement of objects within the Temple were carefully laid out. David's final charge to Solomon was not simply to build a structure but to recognize the sacredness of the task before him. "Be strong and do the work." The Temple mattered because it represented the dwelling place of God among His people, and because of that, every detail was worthy of attention, care, and devotion.

What strikes me is how differently I often think about myself. Jesus tells us that the Temple of God is no longer a building made with human hands but that His Spirit dwells within us. When I place those two ideas side by side, I begin to see something I have missed for much of my life. If God cared that deeply about the construction and care of a physical temple, how much more does He care about the condition of the living temple He has entrusted to me? My mind, my body, my heart, and my spirit are not incidental. They are gifts from God and they deserve to be tended with the same intentionality that David and Solomon gave to the Temple.

Too often I find myself focused on what I can accomplish for others while neglecting the care of my own soul. I want to lead well, love my family well, encourage others, teach students, write meaningful words, and make a difference. Yet the reality is that if I cannot steward what God has placed within me, how can I faithfully steward what He has placed around me? If I am unwilling to care for my own heart with grace, compassion, truth, and obedience, then my ability to truly love others will always be limited. If I cannot extend patience to myself, I will struggle to extend patience to others. If I cannot accept God's love for me in my weakness, I will struggle to offer that same love to those around me.

I think for much of my life I have viewed self-care, rest, gratitude, and even self-compassion as somehow selfish. Yet when viewed through the lens of the Temple, they become acts of stewardship. Taking care of my body, guarding my thoughts, feeding my spirit, pursuing truth, resting when needed, and receiving God's grace are not indulgences. They are responsibilities. They are part of tending the sacred ground God has entrusted to me.

Harper Lee wrote that real courage is knowing you're licked before you begin but beginning anyway and seeing it through no matter what. Maybe courage is not always found in dramatic moments. Maybe courage is found in the daily decision to tend the Temple. To choose gratitude over comparison. To choose truth over self-protection. To choose obedience over comfort. To choose faith when fear seems more reasonable. David's words still echo through the centuries: "Be strong and do the work." Today that work may not involve building walls of stone, but it does involve caring for the life God has placed within me. And if I can learn to steward that gift well, perhaps I will be better prepared to love and serve the people He has placed around me.

8Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

MATTHEW 28:8-20

MAY 29, 2026

 

“Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens..."

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

1 CHRONICLES 26-27

In the closing chapters of David’s reign, we see a meticulous list of men tasked with specific duties—keepers of storehouses, vineyards, olive groves, herds, and flocks. Men like Azmaveth, Shimei, and Obil didn’t wield swords or write psalms, but they were faithful in their assignments. Their callings, though practical and often unseen, were still sacred. Each job, however humble, played a role in the stability of the kingdom and the provision for God’s people. It reminds us that the mundane is not meaningless when it’s submitted to God.

(27:25-31)

JOHN 11:18-46

Jesus, standing before the tomb of Lazarus, doesn’t flinch in the face of death. Even when others hesitate because of the stench of death and the impossibility of resurrection, He commands: “Take away the stone.” When Martha questions Him, He replies, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?” (John 11:40).
And then, the miracle happens. Lazarus walks out. The dead lives again. But this miracle required faith that endured the darkness—the kind of faith that waits, weeps, obeys, and finally sees the glory of God unfold.

JOURNAL 

One thing I have started noticing about myself lately is how often I quietly wish my life were different. It happens almost automatically. I see someone driving a new car, a family at a lake house, a man in incredible shape, pictures from vacations, success, confidence, freedom, peace, and almost instantly something inside me drifts into comparison. It is subtle, but constant. I start imagining what it would feel like to have their life instead of mine. Then almost immediately my mind begins tracing backward through my own story, replaying failures, mistakes, wasted opportunities, regrets, shortcomings, and places where I feel I ruined what could have been.

It is not always dramatic or crippling. I do not crawl into a hole and quit living. In fact, outwardly I often keep moving just fine. But underneath, there is this quiet current of shame and dissatisfaction that seems to always be humming in the background. A low-grade belief that my life somehow missed the mark. That if I had done things differently, been better, smarter, more disciplined, more successful, then maybe I could have had a life worth fully celebrating.

But I am beginning to realize this is its own form of darkness. Not because ambition or desire are sinful in themselves, but because at the root of it is a rejection of my own story. It is the inability to receive my life as a gift. It is forgetting that God did not merely love some future perfected version of me. He loved me in the middle of my failures. He loved me in the confusion, selfishness, pride, fear, insecurity, and brokenness. Salvation itself is built on this reality. Christ did not die for an imaginary version of me. He died for the real me. The ashamed me. The striving me. The fearful me.

And that changes everything. Because if God can fully see me and still love me, then maybe my life is not the tragedy I sometimes imagine it to be. Maybe the greatest gift was never the perfect body, the lake house, the flawless decisions, the wealth, the status, or the easier road. Maybe the greatest gift is that through all my wandering and failures, I have come to know the love and mercy of God personally. Intimately. Not theoretically.

I think that is why comparison is so dangerous. It makes me long for lives that are not mine. But if I had their life, I would lose my story. I would lose the specific ways God has pursued me, humbled me, forgiven me, carried me, and revealed Himself to me. I would lose the moments where grace became real because I finally ran out of strength to pretend I had everything together.

The men listed in Chronicles remind me of this. So many of them had ordinary assignments. Keepers of storehouses. Overseers of vineyards. Caretakers of flocks. Their lives probably did not look extraordinary from the outside, yet God saw every one of them worthy of mention. Their faithfulness mattered. Their lives mattered. Not because they were impressive, but because they belonged within the story God was telling.

That gives me peace. Maybe my calling is not to become someone else. Maybe holiness begins with receiving the life I have actually been given. Receiving it with gratitude instead of resentment. Receiving even the wounds and failures as places where God has met me with mercy.

Jesus standing before Lazarus’ tomb feels connected to this too. Everyone else sees death, disappointment, finality, and hopelessness. Jesus sees resurrection. He tells them to remove the stone before anyone understands what He is about to do. That is faith. Faith is not pretending darkness does not exist. Faith is believing God can still bring life out of what feels ruined.

There are parts of my life that feel dead. Dreams that did not unfold the way I imagined. Choices I wish I could undo. Years where fear quietly shaped more of me than love did. But Jesus still stands before those tombs and says, “Take away the stone.” Maybe the miracle is not that I become someone else. Maybe the miracle is that Christ keeps calling me back to life within my own story.

Peter stepping onto the water feels the same way. He does not walk on water because he is fearless or perfect. He walks because Jesus calls him. For a moment, Peter stops measuring himself against the storm and simply trusts the voice of Christ. That is the invitation for me too. To stop obsessing over the lives of others and to trust that Jesus is present in mine.

So today I do not want to say farewell when the road darkens. I want to believe that even here, in this imperfect and unfinished life, the glory of God is still unfolding. My life is not valuable because it is flawless. It is valuable because it has been loved, redeemed, forgiven, and continually nurtured by God even at my worst...honestly, that may be the lottery of all gifts.

27But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

28“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”

29“Come,” he said.

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. 

MATTHEW 14:27-29

MAY 28, 2026

 “If you're reading this...

Congratulations, you're alive.

If that's not something to smile about,

then I don't know what is.” 

― Chad Sugg

1 CHRONICLES 23-25

6All these men were under the supervision of their father for the music of the temple of the Lord, with cymbals, lyres and harps, for the ministry at the house of God.

Asaph, Jeduthun and Heman were under the supervision of the king. 7Along with their relatives—all of them trained and skilled in music for the Lord—they numbered 288. (25:6-7)

JOHN 11:1-17

9Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Anyone who walks in the daytime will not stumble, for they see by this world’s light. 10It is when a person walks at night that they stumble, for they have no light.”

11After he had said this, he went on to tell them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.”

JOURNAL 

What strikes me most in these chapters of Chronicles is not simply David’s leadership, but the tenderness and intentionality behind it. As he nears the end of his life, he is not consumed with preserving his image or building monuments to himself. Instead, he is carefully establishing places for others. Priests, gatekeepers, musicians, servants, entire generations are being prepared for worship and service. Even the musicians are named, counted, trained, and valued. That says something profound about the heart of God. Love notices people. Love sees worth where the world often sees insignificance. The Kingdom of God is not built merely on power, achievement, or visibility, but on relationship, belonging, and participation. Every person matters because every person is loved by God.

The more I reflect on Scripture, the more I think salvation is not simply about escaping punishment, but about being brought out of hiding and back into relationship with the God who fully sees us. Sin introduced shame, and shame caused humanity to hide. Ever since Eden, people have been constructing identities, accomplishments, control, religion, and pride to avoid being truly known. But love calls us back into the light. That is why 1 John says if we walk in darkness while claiming fellowship with God, we lie. Darkness is not merely immoral behavior. Darkness is hiding. It is living disconnected from truth and refusing to believe we could actually be loved as we really are. Walking in the light means living honestly before God. It means surrendering the false self we keep trying to protect.

That is exactly what Jesus models in John 11. The disciples are terrified to return to Judea because of the threats against Him, but Jesus is not governed by fear. He walks forward calmly because He is fully aligned with the Father. He is walking in the light. What stands out to me is that Jesus never seems frantic about preserving Himself. Fear always turns inward. Fear obsesses over survival, reputation, control, and outcomes. But love frees a person from constantly protecting themselves because they already know who holds them. Jesus walks toward danger because He trusts the Father completely.

That is the invitation for all of us. To stop spending our lives trying to manufacture worth or secure love through performance, success, religion, control, or image management. To stop hiding in darkness. To believe that in Christ we are already fully seen and still deeply loved. That changes gratitude entirely. Gratitude is no longer just appreciation for circumstances. It becomes the response of someone who realizes they are alive, known, forgiven, and loved by God in the middle of all their imperfection.

That kind of gratitude creates light. It opens our eyes to the sacredness of ordinary moments: breath, conversations, music, service, today itself. That is why simply being alive matters so much. Every day is another opportunity to walk in the light instead of fear. Another opportunity to stop hiding. Another opportunity to trust the love of God enough to be honest. If you are alive, then grace is still reaching for you. Light is still calling you forward. And love has not given up on you yet.

5This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. 6If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth. 7But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all^bsin. 

1 JOHN 1:5-7

MAY 27, 2026

 “Humility is nothing but truth, and pride is nothing but lying.” 

― St. Vincent de Paul

1 CHRONICLES 20-22

 6Then he called for his son Solomon and charged him to build a house for the Lord, the God of Israel. 7David said to Solomon: “My son, I had it in my heart to build a house for the Name of the Lord my God. 8But this word of the Lord came to me: ‘You have shed much blood and have fought many wars. You are not to build a house for my Name, because you have shed much blood on the earth in my sight. 9But you will have a son who will be a man of peace and rest, and I will give him rest from all his enemies on every side. His name will be Solomon,^a and I will grant Israel peace and quiet during his reign. 10He is the one who will build a house for my Name. He will be my son, and I will be his father. And I will establish the throne of his kingdom over Israel forever.’11“Now, my son, the Lord be with you, and may you have success and build the house of the Lord your God, as he said you would. 12May the Lord give you discretion and understanding when he puts you in command over Israel, so that you may keep the law of the Lord your God. 13Then you will have success if you are careful to observe the decrees and laws that the Lordgave Moses for Israel. Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged.

JOHN 10:22-42

 22Then came the Festival of Dedication^b at Jerusalem. It was winter, 23and Jesus was in the temple courts walking in Solomon’s Colonnade. 24The Jews who were there gathered around him, saying, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.”25Jesus answered, “I did tell you, but you do not believe. The works I do in my Father’s name testify about me, 26but you do not believe because you are not my sheep. 27My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. 28I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. 29My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all^c ; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. 30I and the Father are one.”31Again his Jewish opponents picked up stones to stone him, 32but Jesus said to them, “I have shown you many good works from the Father. For which of these do you stone me?”33“We are not stoning you for any good work,” they replied, “but for blasphemy, because you, a mere man, claim to be God.”34Jesus answered them, “Is it not written in your Law, ‘I have said you are “gods” ’^d ? 35If he called them ‘gods,’ to whom the word of God came—and Scripture cannot be set aside— 36what about the one whom the Father set apart as his very own and sent into the world? Why then do you accuse me of blasphemy because I said, ‘I am God’s Son’? 37Do not believe me unless I do the works of my Father. 38But if I do them, even though you do not believe me, believe the works, that you may know and understand that the Father is in me, and I in the Father.” 39Again they tried to seize him, but he escaped their grasp.

JOURNAL 

These three chapters of Chronicles show the humility of David and how he willingly admits his failures and seeks God with his whole heart. The way he prepares the way for Solomon is so touching. David completely checks his ego in obedience, even though building the temple was his great ambition. 

Again the way Jesus evades direct accusation while still speaking truth shows his brilliance but also his deep understanding of the hearts of the Pharisees. He understands what they are trying to do but also knows it is not yet time for him. Again the humility even though being the Messiah is further confirmation of his deity.

I am amazed by how both David and Jesus refuse to assert their power and authority simply in obedience to God...they both refuse to "show off". Their faith and trust in God in the face of intense pressure is humbling and reassuring. Seeking God and his way in humility is the path to the eternal. There is no room for arrogance. Again though, it goes back to being more concerned with the moments of today rather than the implications of the future.  They both lived their lives taking care to serve God in the moment rather than wringing their hands over the future.

18Consequently, just as one trespass resulted in condemnation for all people, so also one righteous act resulted in justification and life for all people. 19For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.-  

ROMANS 5:18-19

MAY 26, 2026

    " I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life..."

― Henry David Thoreau

1 CHRONICLES 17-19

7“Now then, tell my servant David, ‘This is what the Lord Almighty says: I took you from the pasture, from tending the flock, and appointed you ruler over my people Israel. 8I have been with you wherever you have gone, and I have cut off all your enemies from before you. Now I will make your name like the names of the greatest men on earth. 9And I will provide a place for my people Israel and will plant them so that they can have a home of their own and no longer be disturbed. Wicked people will not oppress them anymore, as they did at the beginning 10and have done ever since the time I appointed leaders over my people Israel. I will also subdue all your enemies.(17:7-10)

JOHN 10:1-21

14“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me— 15just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep. 16I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd. 17The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life—only to take it up again. 18No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.”

JOURNAL 

Several things this past week hit me in ways that feel significant. The first was the death of Kyle Busch at only 41 years old. From the outside, his life seemed full. Intentional. Successful. A man with purpose, family, influence, and still so much ahead of him. Something about it caught me off guard because it was a reminder that none of us are promised some future moment where we finally start living fully. We only get today.

It made me think again about the tension I constantly fight within myself. There is a part of me that wants ease. Comfort. To coast a little. To avoid hardship and difficulty whenever possible. But I recently read the idea that our bodies and minds were not designed primarily for comfort and ease as much as they were designed for challenge, responsibility, hardship, and growth. When we spend our lives trying to escape difficulty, we slowly diminish our capacity to become who we were created to be.

That immediately brought me back to the spirit of what Henry David Thoreau wrote in Walden. He described the desire to truly live deeply and fully rather than sleepwalk through life in resignation and comfort. I have always resonated with that because deep down I think most people long for a life that feels awake and meaningful, not merely safe.

That same theme runs through the passages in 1 Chronicles and John.

In 1 Chronicles 17, God reminds David that He called him out of ordinary places and into purpose. David started as a shepherd in a field, yet God had been with him through every battle, every uncertainty, and every hardship. The struggles were not separate from the calling. They were part of what formed him into the man he was meant to become.

Then in John 10, Jesus describes Himself as the Good Shepherd who willingly lays down His life for His sheep. There is incredible intentionality in that image. Jesus was not drifting through life trying to avoid pain or preserve comfort. He lived with complete clarity of purpose and complete surrender to the will of the Father. Real life was found through sacrifice, love, courage, and surrender rather than self-protection.

I think that is part of why Dead Poets Society impacted me so deeply when I first watched it the summer before my senior year of high school. Something about that movie stirred this awareness in me that life was meant to be lived boldly and intentionally. It awakened this longing to not waste my life. To become something meaningful. To live courageously instead of passively drifting through the years.

And honestly, I believe that longing is from God.

In John 10, Jesus contrasts His mission with the work of the thief who comes to steal, kill, and destroy. The enemy wants distraction, numbness, fear, passivity, and comfort to slowly drain the life out of us. But Jesus says He came so that we could experience life to the fullest.

Not a shallow life.
Not merely an easy life.
A full life.

A life where we love deeply, risk greatly, create boldly, serve faithfully, and refuse to waste the time we have been given.

Because in the end, the goal is not simply to arrive at death safely and comfortably. The goal is to fully become who God created us to be before we get there.

 10The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.

JOHN 10:10