Parents, Act Like Parents

Parents who are hurt or offended by unmet expectations—often expectations that are unrealistic or, even worse, unspoken—are not behaving as parents. They are behaving as children.

This might sound harsh, but it’s true: parents are called to lead, not sulk. Parents take initiative. Parents pursue their children. Parents put their children’s needs before their own.

When we step into parenthood, we step into a role that reflects the Father’s heart. God doesn’t sit in heaven with crossed arms, offended that we haven’t met His expectations. He came running toward us in Jesus. He moved first. He pursued reconciliation before we even knew we needed it.

So when we, as parents (or grandparents), get stuck nursing hurt feelings because our adult children didn’t call, didn’t visit, didn’t respond the way we hoped—what role are we really stepping into? The role of the parent, or the role of the child?

Parents, hear this: your calling is to love first, move first, and forgive first. Your children may disappoint you. They may frustrate you. They may fail to meet your expectations. But your role doesn’t change.

Take the initiative. Pursue their hearts. Put their needs before your own.

It’s not weakness—it’s maturity. It’s not letting them “off the hook”—it’s walking in the footsteps of the Father who ran to meet His prodigal son while he was still a long way off.

Words Have Value

Lately, I’ve been noticing something.

Maybe it’s always been this way, and I just didn’t have eyes to see it…

But we live in a world that over-talks and under-thinks.

Every feeling is “the worst.” Every frustration is “excruciating.” Every inconvenience is “traumatizing.”

Our language has become so inflated that we’ve lost the weight of words.

We say things like:

“It was a TERRIBLE day.”

“I felt AWFUL.”

“That was the WORST I’ve ever been treated.”

“I HATE when that happens.”

And we don’t even blink.

We’ve normalized exaggeration and lost touch with honest expression.

And even more troubling—we’ve begun borrowing medical and clinical terms to describe everyday human emotions:

“He’s so bipolar.”

“I’m so ADHD right now.”

“She’s definitely a narcissist.”

We toss around serious words for fleeting moments, with no understanding or care for those who carry the true weight of those realities.

So what’s going on here?

Why do we need our words to be louder, heavier, more intense?

Why isn’t ordinary language enough?

Maybe we’ve trained ourselves to speak this way because we think pain makes us more compelling.

Maybe we believe that drama gets us more attention.

Maybe the only time we feel truly seen is when we’re struggling—so we subconsciously dial up the struggle to make sure we’re heard.

But in doing so, we’ve unintentionally taught ourselves that life must be overwhelming to be worth sharing.

And that’s not just a language problem—it’s a spiritual one.

Scripture says, “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up” (Ephesians 4:29).

And “Death and life are in the power of the tongue” (Proverbs 18:21).

Our words aren’t just sounds. They’re seeds.

What we speak shapes what we see.

So when we speak in extremes, we start to live in extremes.

When we exaggerate what’s wrong, we minimize what’s right.

When we highlight where things fall short, we lose the ability to celebrate where God showed up.

We need to reclaim the sacredness of language.

That doesn’t mean we sugarcoat our pain.

It means we speak with integrity. With clarity. With intentionality.

Let’s be the kind of people who tell the truth—

Not the most dramatic version of it.

Let’s be people who name the good—

Without having to balance it with five complaints.

Let’s be people who honor words—

Because we serve a God who spoke the world into being.

So here’s what I’m asking myself—and maybe you can ask it too:

Are my words glorifying God… or just glorifying me?

Am I using language to build up others, or to draw attention to myself?

Is the way I speak leading people to hope… or just adding to the noise?

Words have value.

Let’s speak like they do.

Walk in What You’ve Been Given

“We are more than conquerors through Him who loved us…”

“Yet not I, but Christ who lives in me.”

Those aren’t just verses for coffee mugs and t-shirts. That’s TRUTH. That’s identity. That’s the reality for every single born-again follower of Jesus. If we actually believed that and walked in it daily, everything in our lives would look different.

Let me talk to the believer for a second—the one who keeps falling into the same sin cycles, the same discouragement, the same defeat. Every time we compare our struggle or our yielding to the flesh with a disciple in Scripture who missed it, who failed, who messed up… we’ve got to realize something: those moments happened before they were transformed. Before they were filled with the Holy Spirit. Before the resurrection. Before Pentecost. Before power came.

Peter denying Jesus? That was before the fire fell. That was before he stood up in Acts 2 and boldly preached the Gospel, and thousands got saved. That was before he was FILLED with the power to say no to sin and YES to righteousness.

You’re not living pre-Acts 2. You’re living post-resurrectionpost-Pentecostpost-Spirit. You’ve got the SAME Spirit living inside of you that raised Jesus from the dead. That’s not just good preaching—that’s straight out of Romans 8:11.

So let me ask you—what did you spend your mind and body doing yesterday? Did you invest your thoughts, energy, and conversation in your burdens? Your complaints? Your aches, pains, hang-ups, frustrations? Did you spend more time feeding your flesh than stirring your spirit?

Because if you did… then friend, you didn’t walk in the Spirit. You walked in the flesh. And when we walk in the flesh, we deny—not with our words, but with our actions—the Spirit’s ever-present power in our lives.

Now pause… because I’m not saying that to guilt trip you. I’m not here to condemn. I’m not here to discourage. I’m here to empower you.

Because here’s the truth: YOU. HAVE. BEEN. GIVEN. THE. SPIRIT.

You’ve been equipped. You’ve been sealed. You’ve been filled.

You’re not waiting on God to do something. He’s already done it. The question is—will you walk in it?

You are not helpless. You are not weak. You are not stuck.

You’ve got access to resurrection power. You’ve been made new.

You’ve been given the authority to overcome, to choose righteousness, to live by the Spirit and not gratify the desires of the flesh.

So today, right now, I’m telling you—WALK IN THAT.

Walk in the identity He gave you.

Walk in the freedom He paid for.

Walk in the Spirit you have received.

And don’t look back.

Let the world see what a Spirit-filled life actually looks like.

DUDE!!! Walk in that today. No excuses. No delay. The Spirit of God LIVES in you—what are you waiting for?

They Used His Name, But He Never Knew Them

Some people hijack the name of Jesus. They do this not to glorify Him, but to build something that centers on themselves.

We notice this in today’s world. Ministries are more obsessed with branding than brokenness. Platforms chase fame more than faithfulness. Leaders speak the name of Jesus fluently but live with hearts far from Him. But this is not a new issue—it’s been happening since the beginning of the Church.

Jesus warned us about this very thing in Matthew 7 verses 22 through 23:

“Many will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, in Your name did we not prophesy, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name do many miracles?’
And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; DEPART FROM ME, YOU WHO PRACTICE LAWLESSNESS.’” (LSB)

Think about that. These weren’t people outside the faith. These were people using His name, claiming His authority, and doing things that looked powerful—even miraculous. And yet Jesus says to them: “I never knew you.” That’s chilling.

It’s a sobering reminder that doing things for Jesus is not the same as living in deep relationship with Jesus. The problem isn’t that they failed to perform. It’s that their hearts were far from Him. They treated His name like a password, a brand, a tool—rather than a reflection of their deepest love and loyalty. God doesn’t need our platform. He wants our obedience. He doesn’t want performance. He wants repentance.

This is why it’s so important that we, as followers of Jesus, learn to discern. We should not rely on charisma, talent, or social reach. Instead, we should discern by fruit. Jesus said earlier in that same chapter (Matthew 7 verses 15 through 20) that we would know false teachers “by their fruits.” Not by their words. Not by their influence. Not by their resume. By their lives. Are they humble? Are they submitted to Scripture? Do they repent? Do they walk in holiness when no one is watching? Or are they driven by the praise of people, the applause of crowds, and the addiction to being seen? Friend, don’t be fooled by the flesh. And don’t let the fakes harden your heart toward the real thing.

Yes, people have used the name of Jesus for personal gain. They’ve hurt others in His name. They’ve twisted Scripture. They’ve led ministries that were more about ego than eternity. But none of that discredits Jesus—it only proves how desperately we need Him.Let it push you closer to the Shepherd, not farther.Because at the end of the day, the question won’t be, “Did you do things in My name?”
It will be: “Did I know you?” So let’s live lives that are rooted in knowing Him, loving Him, and obeying Him. We do this not for the stage, spotlight, or spiritual resume, but simply because He is worthy.

He always has been.

And always will be.

Healing from Betrayal: Trusting Jesus Again

It doesn’t take long to live life and realize that people can hurt you—sometimes deeply. The pain of betrayal, neglect, rejection, or even spiritual manipulation doesn’t just go away. Some of us have wounds that are still healing, or maybe haven’t even begun to heal yet. And often, those wounds don’t come from strangers—they come from people we trusted, people who claimed to follow Jesus too.

But don’t let what a person or a few people did to you affect the loving obedience with which you respond to what Jesus did for you. There is an enemy who would love nothing more than to take the actions of a broken human being and twist them into bitterness, distrust, and a hardened heart toward the very One who gave His life for you. And if we’re not careful, the hurt caused by people can become the lens through which we start to see God Himself. But Jesus didn’t hurt you. Jesus didn’t abandon you. He didn’t lie, manipulate, or break your trust. In fact, He did the opposite.

Philippians 2 verses 6 through 8 tell us that Jesus “did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself… becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” That was for you. He took the punishment that should’ve been yours. He bore the weight of sin, the shame, the guilt, the loneliness—and He did it so that you could be free.

So when people hurt you, and you find yourself tempted to withdraw, shut down, or even turn away from God, pause and remember the cross. Remember the Savior who endured more pain, betrayal, and injustice than any of us ever will, and still chose love. Still chose obedience. Still chose you! That’s not to say we excuse sin. We should hold people accountable, set healthy boundaries, and protect one another from abuse or harm. But we must not let the sins of man push us away from the grace of God. To do that is to let the enemy win twice—first by the hurt, and second by the division it causes between your heart and the One who loves you most. There will always be people who fail you. But there is only One who never will. And He’s not asking you to trust people more—He’s asking you to trust Him completely. Keep worshiping. Keep loving. Keep serving. Keep obeying. Not because people deserve it—but because Jesus is always worthy. Even when others fall short, let your life be a response to the One who never will.

The Throne Is Not in Rome

The world watches with reverence. Cameras flash. Robes are pressed. A name is announced. Applause erupts. The balcony doors open. And the smoke has barely cleared before the title is proclaimed: “Holy Father.”

But Heaven does not hold elections. The throne of Christ was not handed down, voted on, or inherited. It was secured through blood, a cross, and an empty tomb.

Psalm 2:6 says, “I have set my King on Zion.” That is final. No debate. No successor.

Men may wear titles, but none can carry the glory that belongs to Christ alone. Isaiah 42:8 declares, “I am the Lord. That is my name. My glory I give to no other.” Not even to a man in a white robe.

The Church does not need a new shepherd. She already has one. His name is Jesus. He was not selected in a secret room. He was raised in power before the eyes of angels, kings, and demons alike.

This is not about mocking a man, but magnifying the One who is truly holy.

Popes die. Priests sin. Systems fail. But Jesus? He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. No white smoke needed. The tomb is empty. The seat is taken.

Honestly, I have no reverence for the moment. I am not deceived by the pageantry. No man holds the keys of eternity. Revelation 1:18 tells us who does: “I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades.”

Pope Leo XIV may lead a billion people. But only one King leads the redeemed.

And His throne is not in Rome.

It is in Heaven.

—Mark Spence


In the past two weeks, we have seen both a pope elected within the Catholic Church and, perhaps more surprisingly, an individual from within Islam publicly claiming the title of “true pope.” These events have made global headlines and stirred debate. But beneath the ornate garments and global attention lies a deeper, more pressing issue: spiritual confusion, and the human desire to replicate divine authority.

The clarity of Christ’s throne demands more than intellectual assent—it demands full allegiance. The throne of Jesus is not symbolic or ceremonial; it is the immovable seat of cosmic authority, eternal justice, and unshakable mercy. Any attempt to replicate, replace, or redefine that authority—regardless of tradition or sincerity—is not just misguided. It is an affront to the exclusive supremacy of Christ.

In every generation, men have sought to sit where only God belongs. Titles such as “Holy Father,” no matter how ancient or respected, approach dangerous ground. Jesus Himself draws a theological line in Matthew 23:9: “Call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven.” These are not merely cultural commands—they are divinely instituted boundaries meant to preserve the distinction between God and man.

While human institutions celebrate succession, Scripture proclaims permanence. The Church is not built on the shifting sands of elections or ecclesiastical politics. It is built upon the Rock—Christ Himself. Colossians 1:18 makes it clear: He is the head of the body, the Church. Not a council. Not a college of cardinals. Not a clerical hierarchy.

Let us not stand in awe of ceremonies Heaven does not recognize. No robe, no chant, no white smoke can rival the majesty of the risen King. The resurrection was His coronation. The ascension, His enthronement. The indwelling Spirit is our daily assurance that Christ reigns now and forever.

The Church must lift her gaze—not to the Vatican balcony, but to the right hand of the Father, where Christ intercedes for His people.

He does not need to be chosen. He cannot be replaced. He will not be dethroned.

Christ alone is worthy. Christ alone is holy. Christ alone is King.

And His throne is not in Rome. It is in Heaven.

Let these headlines serve as a call to the Church, not just a curiosity for the world. These events do not merely reveal the fragmentation of man-made religion—they underscore the unchanging truth of the gospel. The King is not elected. The King is not debated. The King does not share His throne.

The tomb is still empty. The throne is still occupied. The name above every name remains unchanged.

Why Partial Obedience Can Cost You Everything

Obedience is not optional in the Kingdom of God—it is the very currency that moves us forward in His purpose. When God gives an instruction, He expects action, not hesitation. Yet, so often, we treat obedience as something we can schedule at our convenience. We delay, we analyze, we wait for a “better” moment—but the truth remains: delayed obedience is still disobedience.

Saul’s Half-Obedience Led to His Downfall

Look at Saul. God gave him clear instructions: destroy the Amalekites completely—leave nothing and no one behind (1 Samuel 15:3). But Saul, in his own reasoning, chose partial obedience. He spared King Agag and the best of the livestock, intending to deal with them later. On the surface, it might have seemed like a wise, strategic move. Maybe Saul thought, I’ll take care of it later or This seems like a better way to handle it.

But God wasn’t looking for strategy. He was looking for obedience.

When confronted, Saul justified his delay. He even tried to frame his disobedience as an act of worship: “The people took of the spoil, sheep, and oxen, the best of the things devoted to destruction, to sacrifice to the Lord your God in Gilgal” (1 Samuel 15:21). But Samuel’s response was clear and convicting:

“Has the Lord as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to listen than the fat of rams.” (1 Samuel 15:22)

Because of Saul’s delay—his decision to partially obey on his own terms rather than fully obey in God’s timing—he lost his kingdom. His future was directly tied to his willingness to follow God’s command completely and immediately.

What is God Asking You to Do?

Obedience is the key that unlocks the next step in our journey with God. Every moment we delay, we risk forfeiting the blessings and purpose He has set before us. The longer we hesitate, the more we step out of alignment with His will.

Maybe God has given you a clear instruction—to step out in faith, to forgive, to change your habits, to let go of something He has told you to release. Are you waiting for a more convenient time? Are you rationalizing your delay?

Too often, we think of disobedience as outright rebellion, but disobedience isn’t always a loud rejection of God’s will. More often than not, it’s a quiet deferral—a not yet, a maybe later. But just like Saul, we must recognize that when we delay, we are still resisting God’s command.

Saul thought he had time. He thought he could obey later. But partial and delayed obedience cost him everything.

The Cost of Hesitation

When we hesitate, we are not only delaying obedience—we are opening ourselves up to distractions, doubts, and alternative paths that will pull us further from God’s plan. The longer we wait, the more room we give the enemy to plant fear and excuses in our minds.

Consider this: when Peter saw Jesus walking on water, he was able to step out of the boat only because he obeyed immediately (Matthew 14:29). If he had hesitated, questioning the logic of walking on water, fear would have taken hold before faith had a chance to lead him forward. Obedience in that moment was a split-second decision—one that required trust first, understanding later.

How many times have we missed out on what God wanted to do because we wanted full understanding before taking the first step? If we insist on seeing the whole picture before we move, we may never move at all.

It’s Time to Move

God doesn’t give us commands to negotiate or modify. He calls us to immediate and complete obedience. If you’ve been holding back, today is the day to move forward.

There is something powerful about immediate obedience. When God called Abraham to leave his home, he went without knowing where he was going (Hebrews 11:8). When Jesus told His disciples to follow Him, they left everything immediately (Matthew 4:19-20). They didn’t wait for conditions to be perfect or for every detail to be explained. They moved in faith, trusting that obedience itself would unlock the next step.

We must do the same.

Obedience is the currency of the Kingdom—your next step is tied to your ability to follow God’s instruction. The question is, will you move now, or will you wait until it’s too late?

A Final Warning and Encouragement

We must understand that delayed obedience doesn’t just slow us down—it alters the course of our lives. Saul’s hesitation cost him the throne. The Israelites’ fear kept them wandering in the wilderness for 40 years. Jesus Himself warned in Luke 9:62, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

So what are you waiting for? What step of faith have you been avoiding? What has God called you to do that you’ve been postponing?

Delayed obedience is still disobedience. Don’t wait. Do it now.

A Bold Faith in a World That Prefers Silence

“The world tolerates Christianity as long as it stays tame. A private faith, a quiet gospel, a kneeling church. But speak with authority, stand with conviction, and they will come with torches.” — Michael Foster

The world has no issue with Christianity as long as it remains private, passive, and powerless. A faith confined to quiet prayers, polite conversations, and personal reflection poses no threat to the systems of this age. But the moment the church finds its voice—when believers stand firm in truth and proclaim the gospel with conviction—the world reacts. And that reaction is often hostile.

This is nothing new. Jesus Himself warned us: “If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you.” (John 15:18) The gospel is not designed to blend in or be comfortable; it is a declaration of the authority of Christ over all things. The moment we live as though Jesus is not just our personal Savior but the reigning King, we are bound to meet resistance.

A Gospel That Disrupts

Ephesians 6:10-13 reminds us that our battle is not against flesh and blood but against spiritual forces of darkness. The enemy does not fear a Christianity that remains silent, but he trembles at one that is unashamed and unafraid. A faith that is spoken boldly, lived unapologetically, and proclaimed without fear shakes the very foundations of worldly powers.

Consider the early church. The apostles were not hunted down because they prayed quietly in their homes—they were arrested, beaten, and martyred because they preached Christ as Lord, refusing to bow to Caesar. They understood that faith in Jesus was not just a private matter; it was a call to stand firm in a world that demands compromise.

Paul himself wrote from prison, not because he was merely religious, but because he was a threat to the order of the day. He would not stop proclaiming Christ crucified, even when it cost him everything. The same world that rejected Jesus will reject those who follow Him wholeheartedly.

The Cost of Speaking Truth

We live in a time where the loudest voices often demand conformity. The world tolerates faith until it challenges its idols. The moment Christianity speaks against sin, calls for repentance, and declares Jesus as the only way, the opposition begins. The modern church is often tempted to soften its message—to make it more palatable, less offensive, and more socially acceptable. But truth is not meant to be reshaped to fit culture; culture is meant to be transformed by truth.

The question we must ask ourselves is this: Are we living a faith that the world can comfortably ignore, or are we standing with boldness in the authority of Christ? The gospel does not ask for permission to be spoken—it commands us to proclaim it.

Standing in the Full Armor of God

Paul tells us in Ephesians 6:13-17 to take up the full armor of God, not so that we can quietly blend in, but so that we may stand firm in the evil day. The belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shield of faith, and the sword of the Spirit are not the attire of passive believers—they are the armor of warriors in a spiritual battle.

Being a Christian is not about being liked. It is about being faithful. The church is not called to silence; it is called to proclaim the gospel in season and out of season, whether it is welcomed or opposed.

Let the Light Shine

Jesus said in Matthew 5:14-16, “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.” Light does not ask darkness for permission to shine—it simply shines. And when light appears, darkness reacts.

We do not need to seek controversy, but we must never shrink back from truth. The gospel is offensive to a world that loves darkness, but it is also the only message that brings life. Our calling is to preach Christ crucified, to stand firm when the world demands silence, and to trust that God is with us when opposition comes.

So let them come with torches. Let them accuse, mock, and reject. The world did the same to Christ, and yet He overcame. And because He overcame, so will we.

Will we be a silent church that the world can ignore? Or will we stand with boldness, refusing to compromise, proclaiming the truth no matter the cost?

The time for passive faith is over. It is time to stand.

Embracing God’s Goodness Through Grace

The Humility of Grace: Recognizing God as the Source of All Good

“O Lord, everything good in me is due to You. The rest is my fault.” — Augustine

There is something deeply humbling about coming to terms with our own frailty and brokenness. We like to believe that we are good people, that our wisdom, kindness, and accomplishments are the results of our own efforts. But the reality is far different. Augustine’s words cut through the illusion of self-sufficiency, reminding us that every virtue, every noble thought, every good deed we perform is not ultimately of our own making—it is God working within us. And the rest? The failures, the selfishness, the sin? That is entirely our own.

This truth is both humbling and freeing. It humbles us because it dismantles our pride, forcing us to acknowledge that apart from God, we bring nothing of eternal value to the table. It frees us because it shifts our focus from striving in our own strength to resting in the grace of God. When we recognize that the good in us is from Him, we stop trying to prove our worth and instead live in gratitude and dependence on His power.

Owning Our Sin, Embracing His Grace

We live in a world where blame-shifting is the norm. It’s always someone else’s fault—our upbringing, our circumstances, the pressures of life. And while external factors do shape us, they do not determine our character. The Bible is clear: “For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight.” (Psalm 51:3-4) David, in his moment of deep conviction, does not make excuses. He does not justify or rationalize. He owns his sin before God, fully acknowledging that his failures are his alone.

But the beauty of the gospel is that we do not remain in guilt. Just as we acknowledge our sin, we also receive God’s grace. He does not leave us in our failure but lifts us from it. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9) God does not require us to be good enough; He simply asks us to surrender so that He can do His work in us. The more we rely on Him, the more His goodness is manifested in our lives, transforming our hearts and actions in ways we could never achieve on our own.

This tension between our own responsibility for sin and God’s work in us should keep us from both extremes—neither wallowing in despair nor arrogantly claiming credit for any progress. The Christian life is one of constant surrender, a daily recognition that we desperately need God’s renewing grace to shape us into who He has called us to be.

A Call to Humility and Gratitude

Recognizing that all goodness comes from God leaves no room for pride. If everything good in us is from Him, then what do we have to boast about? “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.” (Ephesians 2:8-9) The right response is not self-congratulation but deep, overwhelming gratitude. We do not become holy by our own willpower; we are shaped by the hands of a gracious God who refines us through His Spirit.

This gratitude should transform how we live. If the goodness in us is God’s work, then we must ask ourselves: Are we allowing Him to shape us? Are we cooperating with His refining process, or are we resisting, clinging to our own ways? True humility does not just acknowledge God’s grace—it actively surrenders to it, allowing Him to make us more like Christ.

Such surrender is not passive; it requires intentionality. It means turning away from habits and thoughts that feed pride and self-sufficiency, replacing them with a posture of worship and reliance on Him. It means recognizing that every good choice we make, every kind word we speak, every step we take toward righteousness is ultimately the result of His Spirit working in us. And because of that, our response should be one of continuous thanksgiving and praise.

Living as a Reflection of His Goodness

A life surrendered to God’s grace does not seek to claim credit for what He has done. It reflects His goodness to the world. Paul writes, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” (Galatians 2:20) This means that every act of kindness, every moment of wisdom, every victory over sin is an opportunity to point back to Him, not ourselves.

When we truly grasp Augustine’s words, we stop striving for self-glory and start living for God’s glory. We no longer measure ourselves by worldly standards but by our nearness to Christ. And in that surrender, we find true joy—not in our own achievements, but in the unfailing grace of the One who is at work in us.

This should radically reshape how we view our own spiritual growth. Rather than seeing holiness as something we must manufacture, we recognize that our role is simply to abide in Christ. “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.” (John 15:4) Our job is not to force goodness but to stay close to the source of all goodness.

A person who truly understands this does not see the pursuit of godliness as a burden, but as a joy. Rather than striving anxiously to be better, they rest in the transforming power of Christ. They live with an awareness that every blessing, every bit of growth, every ounce of goodness in them is the work of a gracious and loving God.

A Prayer for Dependence on God’s Goodness

As we reflect on Augustine’s words, let us daily come before God with a spirit of humility, acknowledging both our need for Him and His faithfulness to sustain us. Let our hearts echo this prayer:

Father, I confess that apart from You, I have nothing of true worth. Every good thing in me is from Your hand, and every sin and shortcoming is my own. Forgive me for the moments I take credit for Your work, and remind me that my righteousness is found only in Christ. Shape me, refine me, and use my life to reflect Your goodness to the world. May I rest in the truth that You are always at work within me, making me more like Jesus. Amen.

May we be a people who echo this truth daily: Everything good in me is from You, Lord. The rest is my fault. And still, You love me. Still, You work in me. Let my life reflect only You.

Echoes of Truth: Guarding the Integrity of Biblical Theology

Echoes of Truth Over Voices of Falsehood

Charles Spurgeon’s words echo with a deep sense of responsibility that every follower of Christ should feel: “I had rather be an echo of truth than the voice of falsehood. Rest assured that there is nothing new in biblical theology except that which is false.” This profound statement is not merely about preferring truth over lies; it is about anchoring ourselves to the eternal, unchanging Word of God, especially in a world where new interpretations and ideologies constantly attempt to reshape biblical truths.

In an age where originality is often celebrated over authenticity, there’s a temptation to seek fresh takes on Scripture—new revelations, hidden meanings, and reimagined doctrines. Yet, Spurgeon’s reminder cuts through this noise with piercing clarity: biblical truth is timeless. The core of God’s revelation to humanity has not changed, nor will it. Any teaching that claims to offer a “new” biblical truth is, by its very nature, a distortion.

The Danger of “New” Theology

Throughout history, the Church has witnessed countless waves of new theological trends—many of which veer from the core teachings of Scripture. From the rise of gnosticism in the early church to modern prosperity gospel movements, the pursuit of novelty often leads believers astray. Spurgeon’s warning is clear: when someone claims to have uncovered a “new truth” within biblical theology, we should approach with discernment. Scripture itself affirms this in Ecclesiastes 1:9: “What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.”

True biblical theology is not about innovation—it’s about preservation. It’s about echoing what has already been perfectly revealed through Scripture. It’s about being a faithful steward of the Word, not an innovator.

The Call to Echo Truth

Echoing truth is not passive repetition; it is an active, intentional alignment with the heart of God’s Word. When Spurgeon speaks of being an “echo of truth,” he’s calling us to deeply internalize biblical teaching so that it naturally reverberates through our lives, our speech, and our actions. This kind of echo doesn’t dilute or distort—it amplifies the original message.

In 2 Timothy 4:2-4, Paul charges Timothy: “Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions.” This warning feels especially relevant today. Many seek teachings that align with personal desires rather than biblical truth. But the call remains: preach the Word—pure, unfiltered, and unchanged.

Resisting the Pull of Cultural Influence

Cultural trends often seep into theology, subtly reshaping core doctrines under the guise of relevance or inclusivity. While the gospel is for all people, it is not shaped by the ever-shifting sands of cultural opinion. The Word of God stands as an immovable foundation. Isaiah 40:8 reminds us, “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.”

Echoing truth means standing firm, even when biblical convictions clash with popular opinion. It means prioritizing faithfulness over acceptance, integrity over applause. In an era where cancel culture and social backlash can silence voices of conviction, the Church needs believers who are willing to be echoes of truth, even when it costs them something.

The Role of the Church: Guardians of Doctrine

The Church has a sacred responsibility to guard the truth. This isn’t about gatekeeping but safeguarding. Leaders, teachers, and everyday believers must approach Scripture with humility, reverence, and a commitment to its original intent. Jude 1:3 urges believers to “contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints.” Notice the phrase “once for all”—the faith has already been delivered. It does not need modern enhancements or cultural upgrades.

Churches that chase theological trends risk losing their grounding in the Word. Instead, the focus should be on faithfully teaching Scripture, equipping believers to discern truth from falsehood, and fostering spiritual maturity rooted in the timeless gospel.

Final Thoughts: Why Echoes Matter

Being an echo of truth in today’s world is not always glamorous. It may not garner large followings or social media virality. But it is the faithful path. It honors the God who has revealed Himself through His Word and preserves the life-giving message of the gospel for future generations.

Let us be a people who echo Scripture with clarity and conviction. Let us reject the allure of theological novelty and stand firm in the timeless truths of God’s Word. And when faced with the choice between cultural relevance and biblical faithfulness, may we always choose to be echoes of truth—no matter the cost.

In the end, it is better to echo the eternal than to shout the temporary.