Category: Resources

  • The Redemptive Pathways of Pain

    The Redemptive Pathways of Pain

    The Jesus we claim to follow was made perfect through suffering, yet we often prefer to be made perfect through success.

    Birthdays mark our entry into life, but the very act of childbirth offers a profound metaphor for our journey through pain: a sacred collision of agony and promise. It’s a process that stretches us to our limits, bringing fear, loss, and discomfort, yet it also carries the weight of hope, joy, and the dawn of new beginnings. Childbirth is an illustration of death and resurrection, symbolizing how, in Christ, there are redemptive pathways in our pain. Loss and suffering are not the end, but often the very process by which we enter into something new.

    Christian psychologist and author Dr. Henry Cloud puts it, “Endings are not only a part of life; they are a requirement for living and thriving, professionally and personally. Being alive requires that we sometimes kill off things in which we were once invested, uproot what we previously nurtured, and tear down what we built for an earlier time.” We constantly wrestle with the pain of endings as we move toward new beginnings. These are often seasons of intense suffering, but they were never meant to be a life sentence.

    How many new beginnings may lie on the other side of the painful season you’re experiencing, far beyond what you can currently see.

    Let’s look at two remarkable individuals from the pages of Scripture, both of whom wrestled with God in their pain: Jesus and Jacob. Jesus bore the scars of crucifixion, and Jacob walked with a limp after a night of wrestling in the darkness.

    Jesus: Scars of Victory

    Our Lord, Jesus, entered a season of intense wrestling as he faced the profound pain he was about to endure, alongside the contrasting joy set before him beyond his suffering. After sharing the Last Supper and predicting his betrayal, just hours before his arrest and crucifixion, Jesus went to the Garden of Gethsemane. Matthew 26:39 (NLT) tells us, “He went on a little farther and bowed with his face to the ground, praying, ‘My Father! If it is possible, let this cup of suffering be taken away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.’”

    Jesus’ prayer shows we can hold divine purpose and human pain in tension—not as enemies, but as companions on the journey of transformation. We don’t have to reject God simply because we wrestle with Him in our pain. Instead, we can trust Him through the wrestling, knowing that in the process, He can still guide our lives into purpose and meaning.

    After Jesus had wrestled through the crucifixion, we witness his triumphant interactions with others in the victory of resurrection. He appeared to some of his disciples, who were amazed at his rising from the dead. However, not all were present, including Thomas, who declared he wouldn’t believe it unless he saw the evidence for himself – a “sign-based believer.” A week later, Jesus appeared again, and this time Thomas was there. Knowing Thomas had doubted, Jesus didn’t rebuke him or judge his feeble faith. Instead, He lovingly invited Thomas to touch His hands and side, to see for himself the scars from His crucifixion. Overwhelmed, Thomas exclaimed, “My Lord and my God!”

    The very process of pain and the wounds that were meant to kill Jesus on the cross were repurposed. They became evidence of His resurrection for someone in doubt. Consider Thomas’s encounter with Jesus in light of 1 Peter 2:24 (NLT): “By his wounds you are healed.” The scars on Jesus’ hands brought healing to Thomas’s heart. In the profound mystery of God, Thomas’s heart was healed as Christ’s scars testified to His past suffering. In the same way, your stories of hope for others may very well be read from the scars of the suffering you had to endure.

    Hebrews 2:10 (NLT) : “God, for whom and through whom everything was made, chose to bring many children into glory. And it was only right that he should make Jesus, through his suffering, a perfect leader, fit to bring them into their salvation.” The Jesus we claim to follow was made perfect through suffering, yet we often prefer to be made perfect through success. May these words find an anchor in your hearts: if you’re suffering, don’t reject God; rather, wrestle with Him in trust.

    Jacob: A Limp of Blessing

    Just as Jesus had scarred hands from suffering, Jacob had to walk with a limp. In the Old Testament, Jacob, the grandson of Abraham, had a twin brother named Esau. Jacob, known for his manipulation and deceit, had used these tactics to control and steal from his brother, leading to a bitter estrangement between them. Eventually, Jacob felt compelled to return and reconcile with Esau. As he journeyed with his family and possessions, nearing Esau’s land, he was uncertain how he would be met. He separated his family, sending them ahead, and Genesis 32:24-32 (NLT) recounts what happened next:

    “This left Jacob all alone in the camp, and a man came and wrestled with him until the dawn began to break.”

    Author Ronald Dunn, in his book “When Heaven is Silent,” describes this moment: “Suddenly, without warning, a ‘man’ leaps out of the darkness and wrestles Jacob to the ground… He didn’t think that it was God, because he had asked God to save him.”

    The passage continues: “When the man saw that he would not win the match, he touched Jacob’s hip and wrenched it out of its socket. Then the man said, ‘Let me go, for the dawn is breaking!’ But Jacob said, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me.’ ‘What is your name?’ the man asked. He replied, ‘Jacob.’ ‘Your name will no longer be Jacob,’ the man told him. ‘From now on you will be called Israel, because you have fought with God and with men and have won.’ ‘Please tell me your name,’ Jacob said. ‘Why do you want to know my name?’ the man replied. Then he blessed Jacob there. Jacob named the place Peniel (which means ‘face of God’), for he said, ‘I have seen God face to face, yet my life has been spared.’ The sun was rising as Jacob left Peniel, and he was limping because of the injury to his hip.”

    Jacob was known for his deception, striving, and fear, but the pain of wrestling with God became the crucible in which his identity was reshaped. Somehow, by wrestling with God in his pain and darkness instead of rejecting Him, Jacob experienced a profound transformation of his identity. In the ancient Near Eastern world, a name was believed to reflect a person’s inner nature, so changing a name symbolized a profound transformation. The name Jacob means “deceiver,” but through his wrestling with God, his name was changed to Israel, meaning “one who wrestles with God.” His identity shifted from a self-reliant deceiver to someone transformed through struggle and now surrendered to God.

    This illustrates a powerful truth: the secret of victory is losing the right battle. Wrestling with God through pain, instead of rejecting Him for not removing it from your life, has the potential to reshape who we are in a redemptive way. Jacobs become Israels; servants become saviors.

    Jesus didn’t mope in defeat because of the scars telling his story of unfair suffering. Instead, those scars were used for the redemptive purpose of building faith in others. After wrestling with God, Jacob not only received a new name and a blessing, but he also had a limp. Just as Jesus carried scars in his hands as a sign of victory, Jacob walked with a limp in his leg as a sign of blessing. Both experienced new beginnings out of painful seasons of suffering, all while wrestling with God in the process.

    So, if you’re in a season like that right now, don’t reject God; wrestle with Him in trust through seasons of suffering. And if you carry scars or a limp from some painful past suffering, don’t resent the scars you carry or the limp with which you walk.

    As Ronald Dunn concludes, speaking of Jacob emerging from his night of wrestling with God:

    “When Jacob limped away the next morning, he named the place of his dark encounter Peniel—‘It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.’ He could have named the spot ‘The Place of Struggle’ or ‘The Place of Pain’ or something similar—and it would have been correct, for so it was. Sometimes we do give our times of wrestling names like that—which, I guess, says a lot about us. We can only call those dark encounters Peniel (‘It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared’) when we realise that faith is: the wisdom to see treasure in trash, the courage to face things as they are, not as we wish them to be, the boldness to embrace those things and say, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me,’ making our greatest weakness our greatest strength.”

    Reflective Questions:

    1. How has a past “ending” or painful season in your life ultimately led to a “new beginning” or unexpected growth, even if it wasn’t immediately apparent at the time?
    2. In what ways have you experienced wrestling with God during a time of suffering? What does “wrestling with God in trust” look like for you in your current circumstances?
    3. Consider the scars or “limps” you carry from past pain. How might God be inviting you to view these marks not as symbols of defeat, but as evidence of His redemptive work or even as a source of hope for others?
    4. Jesus was “made perfect through suffering,” and Jacob’s identity was reshaped through struggle. What aspects of your character or faith do you believe God is seeking to refine or transform through your current challenges?
    5. What is one practical step you can take this week to lean into trust and wrestle with God, rather than rejecting Him, in the midst of any pain or uncertainty you are facing?

    Closing Prayer:

    Heavenly Father, we come before You with open hearts, acknowledging the reality of pain and suffering in our lives. We confess that at times, we are tempted to reject You when faced with hardship, questioning Your presence and purpose. Forgive us for our doubts and our desire for perfection through ease. We thank You for the profound examples of Jesus and Jacob, who show us that wrestling with You in our pain is not a sign of weakness, but a pathway to deeper faith and transformation.

    Lord, help us to embrace the redemptive pathways in our suffering. When we carry scars, may they become testimonies of Your healing power. When we walk with a limp, may it be a sign of Your blessing and the reshaping of our identity. Grant us the wisdom to see treasure in our trials, the courage to face things as they are, and the boldness to hold onto You, saying, “I will not let You go unless You bless me.” May our greatest weaknesses become our greatest strengths in Your hands. Guide us into the new beginnings You have prepared, even when we cannot yet see them. We trust in Your unfailing love and Your perfect plan. Amen.

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  • Faith in the Who, Not the Why

    Faith in the Who, Not the Why

    The truth is, we may never know the “why” behind our suffering this side of eternity. God’s ways are not our ways. But what we can know, with absolute certainty, is the “who.”

    Trust in the LORD with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding.

    — Proverbs 3:5 (NLT)

    In seasons of crisis, loss, or deep unfairness, the question that echoes in the chambers of our hearts is often a single, agonizing word: “Why?” We see others being blessed, prayers being answered, and miracles unfolding, while we remain in our own prison of pain, feeling overlooked and forgotten. It is in these moments that the foundation of our faith is truly tested. Is our belief in God based on what He does for us, or on who He is?

    Jesus encountered this very challenge. He told the people, “You people will never believe unless you see signs and wonders” (John 4:48 NIVR). He was calling them, and us, to a deeper faith—a faith that entrusts our entire lives to Him, not just one that is validated by a steady stream of blessings and miraculous interventions. The enemy loves a sign-based faith because when life inevitably takes a wrong turn, our perception of God shatters, and we risk abandoning the very One who is our salvation.

    Consider John the Baptist. He was the forerunner, the one who declared, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” He faithfully rebuked evil, standing for righteousness, and for his trouble, he was thrown into prison by Herod. From his cell, he heard reports of the Messiah performing miracles for others—the blind see, the lame walk, the dead are raised. Yet, John remained locked away. The lack of a sign for his own situation led him to send his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is supposed to come?Or should wel ook for someone else?” (Matthew 11:3 NIVR).

    Perhaps you can relate to John. You feel trapped, and your prayers for release seem to go unanswered. You’re wrestling with the question, “Jesus, are you really who you say you are for me?”

    The truth is, we may never know the “why” behind our suffering this side of eternity. God’s ways are not our ways. But what we can know, with absolute certainty, is the “who.”

    • No matter what happens, He loves you.
    • No matter how unfair it seems, He is merciful and gracious.
    • No matter how untimely the loss, He is your good shepherd.
    • No matter how unexpected the outcome, He will never leave you or forsake you.

    When we can anchor our faith in the unchanging character of God, the “why” loses its power over us. John the Baptist’s struggle wasn’t truly about his belief in who Jesus was; it was a wrestle with his unmet expectations of what Jesus should do. He, like many Jews of his time, likely expected a political King who would overthrow Roman oppressors, not a humble servant.

    How much of our own wrestling with God is born from unmet expectations? “God, I thought you would heal me.” “I thought you would provide that job.” “I thought you would save this relationship.” Faith trusts, but expectation assumes. As the apostle James warns, we should not say we wi l do this or that, but rather, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that” (James 4:15 NIV). This is a posture of trust, not assumption.

    Jesus’ response to John was profound. He pointed to the signs He was performing, affirming His identity. But then He added a crucial word of encouragement: “Blessed is anyone who does not give up their faith because of me” (Luke 7:23 NIVR). Jesus was saying, “John, there is a blessing for you if you can trust who I am even when you don’t understand what I am doing (or not doing) in your personal situation.”

    The story of John the Baptist ends, from a human perspective, in tragedy. He is beheaded on a whim to satisfy a drunken promise at a party. There was no miraculous escape. Yet, Jesus Himself said of John, “Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist” (Matthew 11:11 ESV). John’s greatness was not defined by the length of his ministry or a triumphant end, but by his steadfast faith while wrestling in the dark. His suffering became his witness.

    Your greatest testimony may not be a story of miraculous escape, but one of unwavering faith in the midst of the fire. It’s about finding peace in the prison cell, not just freedom from it. When you let go of your expectations and cling to the “Who,” you will experience, as Paul wrote, “God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand” (Philippians 4:7 NLT). Your faith in who God is, even without answers to “why,” becomes a powerful story seen by others, a testimony of greatness that echoes from your life into eternity.

    Reflect

    1. In what area of your life are you currently asking “Why?” How can you shift your focus from the “why” of your circumstances to the “who” of God’s character this week?
    2. Think about a time when an unmet expectation of God caused you to worry or doubt. How does the distinction between “faith trusts” and “expectation assumes” change your perspective on that situation?
    3. John the Baptist felt overlooked in his prison cell while others received miracles. Can you identify with this feeling? How does Jesus’ statement, “Blessedisanyonewhodoesnotgiveuptheirfaithbecauseofme” (Luke 7:23), speak to you in that feeling?
    4. The devotional states, “Your faith in God through suffering is a form of witness.” Who might be watching your response to your current challenges? What message is your faith sending?
    5. If you were to honestly write the final chapter of your current story of suffering, what would it say? How can you, like John, trust that even a tragic ending in human eyes can be a testimony of greatness in God’s eyes?

    Closing Prayer

    Father God,

    Thank you that your love for me is not dependent on my circumstances. Forgive me for the times I have based my faith on signs and wonders, and for the times my unmet expectations have led to doubt and anxiety. Today, I choose to let go of my need to understand “why.” Instead, I choose to trust in “Who” You are: my loving Father, my good Shepherd, my merciful and gracious God who will never leave me. Even in this prison of pain, help me find Your peace that surpasses all understanding. May my faith, even while wrestling, be a powerful testimony to Your greatness.

    In Jesus’ name, Amen.

  • God Based Belief

    God Based Belief

    When we don’t know the why, we must anchor ourselves in the Who. The circumstances may be confusing, but the character of God is constant.

    In our conversations about faith, we often use the term “believer.” We might hear someone say, “He’s going through a tough time, but he’s a believer.” We understand the sentiment, but it’s worth pausing to ask a deeper question: what exactly do we believe in?

    There’s a world of difference between stating a fact and declaring trust. To say, “I believe Siya Kolisi is the captain of the Springboks,” is to acknowledge a piece of information. But to look a friend in the eye and say, “I believe in you,” is to place your confidence, trust, and reliance on them. Our faith in Jesus is meant to be the latter. It’s not just an acknowledgment of facts; it is a deep, personal commitment. After all, as the scripture reminds us, even the demons believe—and shudder. What, then, separates our belief?

    Scripture Focus: John 2 & 3

    In the Gospel of John, we see a fascinating contrast. In Jerusalem for the Passover feast, Jesus performs many miracles. The response is immediate:

    Many people saw the signs he was doing. And they believed in his name. But Jesus did not fully trust them. He knew what people are like. He didn’t need anyone to tell him what people are like. He already knew why people do what they do.

    (John 2:23-25, NIRV)

    These people were “believers,” but their belief was shallow, built upon the shifting sands of signs and wonders. It was a transactional faith: “Show us a miracle, and we will believe.” Jesus recognized this, which is why He “did not fully trust them.” Their belief was in what He could do, not in who He was. He would later address this directly, saying, “You people will never believe unless you see signs and wonders” (John 4:48, NIRV).

    In stark contrast, Jesus engages in a deep, nighttime conversation with a Pharisee named Nicodemus in the very next chapter. He speaks not of signs, but of a spiritual rebirth. He explains that entry into God’s kingdom requires being “born with water and the Holy Spirit” (John 3:5). Jesus then distills this profound mystery into one of the most powerful verses in all of Scripture:

    God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son. Anyone who believes in him will not die but will have eternal life.

    (John 3:16, NIRV)

    Notice, Jesus uses the same word—believe. But the foundation is entirely different. The belief Jesus desires isn’t based on what we can see, but on who God has revealed Himself to be through His Son. The Greek word for believe here is Pisteuō (pronounced Pis-tew-o), which implies so much more than mental assent. It means to trust, to rely on, to place your entire confidence and personal commitment in someone. Furthermore, in the original Greek of John 3:16, “believes” is a present active participle, signifying a continuous, ongoing action. It’s not a one-time decision but a moment-by-moment lifestyle of trusting your life to Jesus.

    From ‘Why?’ to ‘Who’

    The enemy of our souls wants our faith to remain sign-based. Why? Because if our belief is dependent on circumstances, then a difficult diagnosis, an unexpected loss, or an unanswered prayer has the power to define our view of God. When things don’t go our way, a sign-based faith leads us to abandon the very One who can save us.

    We see this tested even in the lives of spiritual giants. John the Baptist, languishing in prison, sent his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is supposed to come? Or should we look for someone else?” (Matthew 11:3, NIRV). The signs—or lack thereof—were causing him to doubt. After the crucifixion, the disciples on the road to Emmaus lamented, “But we had hoped that he was the one who was going to set Israel free” (Luke 24:21, NIVR). Their hopes were pinned on what Jesus would do, and when He didn’t meet their expectations, their faith faltered.

    How often do we find ourselves in the same place? Facing a crisis, we cry out, “Why, God?” And often, the heavens are silent on the “why.”

    This is where true faith, the Pisteuō of John 3:16, takes root. When we don’t know the why, we must anchor ourselves in the Who. The circumstances may be confusing, but the character of God is constant.

    • When I don’t understand why this is happening, I know Who God is: He loves me.
    • When the situation seems unfair, I know Who God is: He is merciful and gracious.
    • When I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I know Who God is: He is my good shepherd who walks with me.
    • When the outcome is not what I prayed for, I know Who God is: He will never leave me nor forsake me.

    When my faith is in the Who, the unanswered why loses its power over me.

    Taking Communion Today

    As we prepare our hearts for communion, let’s remember what it represents. This simple act of eating bread and drinking from the cup is a powerful declaration. It is our response to the foundation of our faith: the body of Jesus broken for us and His blood shed for us. It is a faith based not on the signs we see, but on the ultimate sign He gave—the cross and the empty tomb.

    Today, let’s bring the situations where we are wrestling with “why” to the table. Let’s lay down our need for signs and wonders and, instead, place our trust—our ongoing, active, wholehearted Pisteuō—in the One who holds all things together.

    Reflect:

    1. Think about your own faith journey. Are there areas where your belief is more like the crowd in John 2 (based on what God does for you) rather than the “born again” trust Jesus describes in John 3 (based on who He is)?
    2. The devotional contrasts believing a fact (Siya Kolisi is captain) with believing in a person. How can you actively practice “believing in” Jesus this week, beyond just acknowledging facts about Him?
    3. Recall a time when a specific circumstance or unanswered prayer caused you to doubt God’s goodness, much like John the Baptist or the disciples on the Emmaus road. How did you navigate that doubt?
    4. When you face a difficult “Why?” question, which attribute of God (Who He is—loving, merciful, good shepherd, ever-present) do you find it most difficult to hold onto? Why do you think that is?
    5. The people in Jesus’ hometown couldn’t receive miracles because of their unbelief (Matthew 13:58). How might a posture of trusting in who God is, first and foremost, open your heart to see His work in your life in new ways?

    Closing Prayer

    Father God,

    Thank You for revealing Yourself to us, not just in mighty works, but in the person of Your Son, Jesus. Forgive us for the times our faith has been shallow, demanding signs and answers before we are willing to trust. Help us to shift our belief from being based on the “why” of our circumstances to the unchanging “Who” of Your character.

    When we are confused, remind us that You are wise. When we feel abandoned, remind us that You are near. When we are hurting, remind us that You are our good shepherd. Today, as we reflect on the communion table, we declare our trust, our reliance, and our full confidence in You. Strengthen our faith, Lord, that it may be a continuous, living trust in the One who loved us and gave Himself for us.

    In the precious name of Jesus,

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  • Payment or Present

    Payment or Present

    Your relationship with God is not a contract you must painstakingly fulfill, but a covenant He graciously initiates.


    The saying, “You get what you pay for,” resonates deeply with us, often feeling like an undeniable truth. It’s woven into the fabric of our society, shaping our expectations of fairness and merit. We strive for a world where effort equals reward, where good actions yield good outcomes, and where anything less feels inherently unjust. This perspective, born from our earthly experiences, often spills over into our spiritual lives, leading us to believe that our relationship with God is a transaction—a contract where we perform certain deeds in exchange for His favor.

    The story of Ashton and the R50 smart watch from Temu illustrates this human tendency. The allure of a seemingly incredible deal, only to be met with disappointment, leads to the resigned sigh, “You get what you pay for.” This sentiment, while practical in the marketplace, becomes a significant stumbling block when applied to our walk with God. We wonder if we have to earn God’s love, if our good deeds create a debt He must repay with blessings and eternal life. We may even feel frustrated when our efforts don’t seem to yield the expected results, questioning God’s fairness when He doesn’t hold up “His end of the bargain.”

    The Rich Young Ruler: A Quest for Payment

    In Matthew 19:16-22, we encounter a rich young man who embodies this very question: “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?” His inquiry reveals a contractual mindset, a belief that eternal life is a commodity to be purchased through good works. Jesus, in His wisdom, challenges this notion by listing the commandments, seemingly setting a price for entry into the kingdom. The young man, confident in his outward adherence to the law, proudly declares, “All these I have kept. What do I still lack?”

    His response highlights a fundamental misunderstanding, a common human error. He believed he had fulfilled his part of the contract, that he had “paid” enough. Yet, Jesus’ ultimate instruction to sell all his possessions and follow Him exposed the true obstacle: his reliance on his own efforts and wealth, rather than on God’s grace. The young man’s sorrowful departure reveals the painful truth—he wasn’t willing to release his grip on what he believed he had earned.

    The disciples, too, struggled with this transactional thinking. Peter, ever the spokesman, voices their implicit contract: “See, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?” (Matthew 19:27). Their question, while understandable from a human perspective, underscores the deeply ingrained belief that there must be an equivalent return for their sacrifices.

    The Vineyard Parable: A Gift, Not a Wage

    Jesus then reframes the entire discussion with the parable of the workers in the vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16). This powerful story shatters the illusion of a merit-based relationship with God. The vineyard owner hires workers at different times of the day, yet at the end, pays them all the same wage—a denarius. The workers who bore the burden of the day and the scorching heat are furious, feeling cheated by the owner’s “unfair” generosity to those who worked for only an hour.

    This parable powerfully illustrates that God’s kingdom operates on a different economy—one of grace, not merit. The owner, representing God, asserts his right to be generous with what is his. He declares, “Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?” (Matthew 20:15).

    Our natural instinct screams, “More work equals more pay!” But in God’s kingdom, our “wage”—what we are truly owed—is not eternal life through our good deeds, but spiritual death due to our sin. Romans 3:23 reminds us, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” and Romans 6:23 unequivocally states, “For the wages of sin is death.” Even our most righteous deeds, as Isaiah 64:6 vividly describes, are “like a polluted garment”—unclean and insufficient to earn God’s favor.

    The Gospel: A Present, Not a Payment

    The good news, the Gospel, is that God does not offer us a payment based on our works, but a present based on His boundless grace. Ephesians 2:8-9 beautifully articulates this truth: “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

    Your relationship with God is not a contract you must painstakingly fulfill, but a covenant He graciously initiates. A contract says, “If you do this, I’ll do this.” A covenant says, “I will.” God’s covenant with us, established through Jesus, is a promise to forgive our sins and restore our relationship with Him.

    This means you don’t have to work to earn God’s approval; in fact, you cannot earn it. God loves you right now, just as you are, as much as He ever has and as much as He ever will. Nothing you do or don’t do can make Him love you more or less. He is not a distant, unapproving father waiting for you to perform; He is a loving Father who runs towards you, full of mercy and compassion. As Romans 9:15 reminds us, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.”

    Living from God’s Approval, Not For It

    The challenge then becomes, how do we stop “trying so hard” to earn something that has already been freely given? It’s a journey of actively dismantling the contractual mindset and embracing the covenantal truth. We are called to shift from working for God’s approval to working from God’s approval.

    This shift takes time and intentionality. It means recognizing the areas in your life where you still believe you need to “perform” for God’s love or favor. Perhaps it’s in a struggle with sin, where you feel you need a “holy week” before you can approach Him again. Or maybe it’s in your service, where you feel God owes you something for your efforts.

    The invitation is to identify these areas, acknowledge the underlying belief that you need to earn His love, and then intentionally offer those feelings back to God. Ask Him to help you truly grasp His unconditional acceptance and approval because of Jesus. Pray for the faith to believe that today, right now, you are loved and accepted.

    God has extended the ultimate gift: an eternal relationship with Him, not as a payment for your works, but as a present of His grace. Will you accept it?

    Reflect:

    1. Reflecting on “You Get What You Pay For”: In what areas of your life (relationships, work, personal goals) do you most strongly feel the pull of the “you get what you pay for” mentality? How does this mindset influence your expectations and actions?
    2. Examining Your Relationship with God: Can you identify any instances or ongoing patterns where you find yourself “working for God’s approval” rather than “working from God’s approval”? What specific thoughts or feelings arise when you consider this distinction?
    3. Understanding God’s Grace: The parable of the vineyard owner highlights God’s sovereignty and generosity. How does the idea that God chooses to be merciful and compassionate, regardless of our perceived “worth” or “work,” challenge your inherent sense of fairness?
    4. Accepting the Present: The devotional emphasizes that our relationship with God is a present, not a payment. What does it truly mean for you to “accept this present”? What might be preventing you from fully embracing this truth?
    5. Shifting Your Perspective: The devotional encourages us to identify areas where we are working for God’s approval and offer them back to Him. What is one specific area in your life right now where you can intentionally practice this shift, trusting in God’s already-given acceptance?

    Closing Prayer:

    Heavenly Father, we come before You acknowledging our human tendency to strive, to earn, and to believe that Your favor is something we must pay for. Forgive us for often approaching You with a contract in hand, rather than with open hearts ready to receive Your boundless grace. Help us, Lord, to truly grasp the profound truth that our relationship with You is a glorious present, freely given through Jesus. Unpack in our hearts the meaning of Your covenant, a promise of forgiveness and restoration that requires only our acceptance. Holy Spirit, reveal the areas in our lives where we are still working for Your approval, and empower us to instead work from the deep well of Your already-given love and acceptance. May we rest in the knowledge that nothing we do can make You love us more, and nothing we’ve done can make You love us less. Thank You for Your incredible generosity, for choosing to have mercy on us, and for the gift of eternal life through Christ. Amen.