Years ago, I learned that my stepfather was… Maybe not afraid of the Rapture, but definitely concerned about what it meant for the world. His words were, to the best of my knowledge, “That will be the end of everything.”
More recently, I heard a young mother tell someone else that the Rapture wouldn’t be happening any time soon because God had told her that her newborn is going to be a preacher.
Recently, I realized both speakers were operating under the same assumption: That the Rapture is the end.
But it’s not.
It’s the beginning.
For believers, the Rapture isn’t the end of God’s work—or of ours. It’s simply the turning of a page, the beginning of a new chapter. You have the Rapture, then the Tribulation, and then one thousand years of Jesus Christ reigning on earth—and us reigning with Him.
It seems most people think we’ll just be hanging out once we get to Heaven. Or, more likely, they’ve not even thought about it. The truth is, Scripture doesn’t in any way indicate that we’ll be floating around on clouds playing harps, as the stereotype would have us believe.
Adam and Eve had responsibilities in the Garden of Eden, and in many ways God is restoring that kind of intimate and unhindered relationship with Him that sin destroyed. Just as surely as Adam and Eve had purpose, so will we. We were created to serve and glorify God and that fact won’t change just because we’ve received our glorified bodies. If anything, our lives will have even more purpose because we’re not limited by human flesh.
So yes, the Bible makes it clear that we will reign with Christ and have responsibilities in His Kingdom. And it’s easy to see where those responsibilities could line up with the gifts God has been developing in us in this life.
Which brings me to this thought, and it’s one I’ve shared before. We will live by the Word of God forever, and it will figure in our eternal lives every bit as much as it ought to be ruling our lives today. So every effort we put into getting to know God and His Word, every lesson we learn today is preparing us for our eternal responsibilities.
For my part, knowing that the gifts and callings of God are not revoked (Romans 11:29), I believe God will continue to use the gifts He’s given me during those thousand years just as surely as He uses them today.
I turned and saw a huge butterfly resting on my sister’s arm. It had mistaken her colorful tattooed cuff for a flower and, once it settled, was in no hurry to leave. In fact, it stayed on her long enough for pretty much everyone in our tour group to take pictures.
This specimen was both beautiful and fascinating. It seemed perfectly designed for camouflage. Its colors and the shape of its wings would have made it disappear completely up against a tree or leaf-strewn forest floor. And then there were the spots that looked very much like eyes; other animals could easily have mistaken it for a predator instead of prey.
I wondered if that was part of why it stayed so long. It instinctively knew it had nothing to fear. In a sense, it was hidden in plain sight.
It makes me think of us and how our lives are hidden with Christ in God. (Colossians 3:3) When we are right with God, we are in a sense wearing a type of spiritual camouflage. The devil may see us, but he also sees the One who watches over us. That knowledge can give us the same type of confidence that butterfly had.
We saw many beautiful butterflies at the butterfly conservatory that day, and we took our fair share of pictures. But there was one butterfly that proved most elusive. There were plenty of specimens there, but we only saw them in flight, and they seemed able to disappear without warning. We got only one picture, and it’s not the best.
Its wings flashed the most astonishing shades of blue, shades that changed as it moved. What you see here is a true representation of its coloring. The left wing wasn’t just in shadow and the right in the sun; its colors were literally shifting as it moved—which it did constantly.
I set my heart on following one until it landed for more than a split second so I could get a photo. After much wandering and a great deal of patience, I finally got my wish. One of these glorious creatures settled onto a branch right in front of me.
And suddenly I was laughing so I couldn’t have taken a photo if its wings had stayed open and still long enough.
Because, you see, the instant it landed it closed its wings.
And it was the very same butterfly that had landed on my sister’s arm.
There are so many spiritual lessons wrapped up in that one discovery that I hardly know where to begin.
When this Blue Morpho rested on my sister’s arm, it was the same brilliantly blue butterfly it had been only moments before. Nothing had changed. The blue hadn’t disappeared; it was simply hidden from view. Its beauty remained hidden until it took flight.
The science of this butterfly’s coloring is particularly fascinating. According to scientists, the blue isn’t pigment at all. Millions of microscopic structures on its wings reflect blue light and cancel out the other colors. That’s why this one was caught flashing from a deep sapphire in the left wing to a brilliant teal in the right.
Every detail of this butterfly speaks of an unimaginably creative Designer.
God took so much care to clothe this one butterfly in kingly colors at the same time He graced it with an almost perfect camouflage!
And why worry about your clothing? Look at the lilies of the field and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing, yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?
Matthew 6:28-30 NLT
And if God cares so wonderfully for the Blue Morpho…
Have you ever thanked God for letting you walk through Hell?
While praying for some friends who seem to be stuck where spiritual maturity is concerned, I was drawn to reassess my own spiritual journey. I was saved at 13 (or thereabouts) and I loved God, but my progress toward spiritual maturity was more of an amble than a walk until I began attending church regularly as an 18-year-old.
Even then, it was a fairly leisurely walk until my husband had the first affair that I know of. At that point, in the midst of the spiritual fight of my life, everything changed. Driven deep into the arms of God by my desperation, I found my priorities shifting and He truly became my primary focus. I clearly remember telling Him at one point that I wanted the season to end, but I didn’t want to ever let go of the close relationship with Him that I’d developed in it. It was as if a switch had been flipped and a light I’d not even realized was available suddenly flooded my soul. Having gained that light, I was determined not to lose it.
So, as I thought about these people that I was praying for, I asked God what made the difference, why I’d been unable to reach that place of intimacy before being thrown into the spiritual battle. His answer was instant—and humbling.
“You were caught in complacency.”
I’ve advised many people that, when making important decisions, you should follow peace because God is the author of peace. God is the only one who can give it; the closest the devil can come is complacency. With that in mind, you’ll understand why God’s answer paused my prayer and set me back a bit.
Because He was right.
Before the affair, my whole life was one of complacency. Yes, my marriage was not what it should have been, but I convinced myself that it could be worse. After all, he didn’t beat me like my stepfather had beaten my mother, so I could live with it. I was okay. It was just my “cross to bear.”
Back then, I would never have used the word, but with 20-20 hindsight, I see it clearly. I was complacent. Worse, I was complacent about my relationship with God. I was an active church member. I served. I took Bible classes when they were available and I read my Bible on my own—sometimes. I prayed—when I thought about it. I was satisfied that, as Mick said in Crocodile Dundee, “Yep, me and God, we’d be mates.” Mind you, I knew his view was unscriptural, but I was saved. Yep, I was saved, serving, and satisfied. And that’s exactly where complacency had trapped me.
Even as I write this, I just had to put the pen down and walk away for a minute, take a breather.
Complacency is so dangerous and so very easy to get caught up in, to stay trapped in.
What would have become of my family if the affair hadn’t happened, if I’d not been driven into God’s arms? How would things have developed if I’d failed to wake up, if I’d continued in my meandering spiritual journey instead of diving into true intimacy with God and developing a genuine hunger for His Word?
If I had remained that spiritual teenager forever, how completely would I have failed my kids? I failed in many ways as it is. How much worse would it have been?
And again, I had to put the pen down and step away for a minute.
Two of my greatest treasures in this life are my boys. I love them both with everything I have and am more proud of them than words can express. To think of the damage I would have done to them if I’d failed to mature spiritually, if I’d continued in my complacently casual walk with God, is painful.
I would not wish the hell I lived through during that season on anyone, but now more than ever, I thank God for walking me through it. Yes, the devil meant for it to destroy me. That’s obvious, and as my pastor would say, he did it because he knew my potential and wanted to stop me from reaching it. Instead, God used the devil’s weapon as a tool to jumpstart my journey and teach me lessons that would prove invaluable over and over again.
My heart is racing even now as thoughts of what could have been and what is rush through my mind, and I am grateful. Yes, I am genuinely grateful for that season. That experience being what it took to finally kick me out of being satisfied with my inadequate spiritual life and into true hunger for the things of God, I thank God for it!
I just finished the book of Jeremiah. (Shhh…. Don’t tell the leader of our devotional group. Technically I should only have finished chapter 29.)
It seems like every time I read this book I finish it just as stunned as the time before.
Repeatedly, Jeremiah warns God’s people about what’s coming. Repeatedly, what God has Jeremiah announce is exactly what happens. Repeatedly, the people choose to believe what they want to believe.
Why? Are human beings really that blind? (Rhetorical question. We all know the answer.)
Blind isn’t really the right word, though. I’d say “flesh-driven” is more appropriate. Which brings me to an ongoing conversation about the power of the flesh that God and I have been having for the past few weeks.
It all started with the Millennial Reign—the thousand years during which Jesus will rule the earth from Jerusalem—and what comes after when the devil and demons are released for a short time before they’re thrown into the lake of fire forever.
My initial question went something like: How is it possible that, with Jesus literally here on Earth and ruling the whole earth, and knowing about the Tribulation and what happened immediately in its aftermath, and presumably having contact with those who are no longer mortal but instead living in their glorified bodies…
How can anyone possibly 1) want to challenge Jesus and 2) think for one minute that defeating Jesus is even possible? I mean, I know the devil drives it, but how do the people reach that point?
My conclusion, after days of discussions with God, is that the pull of the flesh is far stronger than we like to admit.
I know one of the things I look forward to after the Rapture is never having to fight the flesh again!
So, to get back to our theoretical “end of time” humans…
The Bible implies that in that thousand-year period man will live a lot longer than he does today. One hundred will be considered quite young, so who knows how long a standard generation will be? How many generations will have passed when the devil is released? Surely not many? So, can they really have forgotten…or chosen to forget…or chosen never to learn the truth?
Looking at the United States right now, and the actual beliefs of far too many of our residents, I have to say yes. Yes, they can.
I remember a day in the early 90s when I had the thought, “The day will come when they realize what they’ve done, and they will regret it.” I don’t remember what the issue of the day was, but I clearly remember, later, thinking something like, “No. They never will realize what they did. They’re so used to the world they’ve created that nothing about it seems out of line.” It doesn’t really matter what specific incident I’m remembering (or not): Our recent history offers a distressing number of examples that fit.
So yes, even when something is relatively recent and factually undeniable, people who don’t want to believe will find a way to deny it. Worse, some will persuade others to deny it with them.
But why?
At the risk of redundancy: The flesh really is that strong. In fact, it’s so strong that, without God, we cannot consistently win against it.
Going back to those mortals who live on this earth during the Thousand Year Reign of Christ, it’s important to remember that they are fully human. And as humans, they too will battle the flesh. The biggest difference between them and us is that they will only have to fight the flesh. The devil and his demons won’t be around to whisper lies in their ears.
So, it’s entirely possible the world will seem like a totally peaceful place until the devil is released. I mean, the potential will obviously be there as people think their flesh-driven thoughts. But I’m guessing that, on the surface, all will seem right with the world until the element of true evil re-enters the picture.
It makes me think of chemicals that appear stable until one additional substance is introduced and everything reacts violently.
And this potentially answers another question I’ve had for years.
Why do the devil and demons have to be released that one, last time? To cause that very reaction, to finally cleanse humanity. At least, that’s the conclusion I’ve come to today. I’m not about to say God told me this, just that it feels right.
Regardless, there I sat, staring at the last page of Jeremiah where I could see how every part of the prophecy about Jerusalem’s destruction came to pass. I mean, right down to the specific prophecy about the taking down of those huge bronze pillars, Jeremiah was specific and proven to be completely accurate.
Upon completing that last page, I realized I was looking at confirmation that what I’ve been thinking really is true. The flesh really is that strong. Fail to conquer it and it will blind you, leading you to believe things that have no foundation in truth. And when we’re not fully submitted to God it’s a very hard thing to fight.
This realization is both sobering and comforting.
Sobering because the flesh really is strong enough to blind us to the truth. Comforting because God never intended us to fight it alone.
When we are submitted to God, filled with the Holy Spirit and listening to and obeying His promptings, we have all the power we need.
Indeed, as Romans 8:37 (NLT) assures us:
No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.
What do you do when you hear God say, “Start keeping Sunday as a rest day.”?
I knew it was God speaking, because the thought had never even crossed my mind. As an author and blogger with a full-time job, I’ve pretty much been working 7 days a week for years.
And God was asking me to give up a whole day? Yes. Yes, He was.
But here’s the surprising thing: It’s been amazing! I’m talking life changing amazing. So much so that I had to share what I’ve been experiencing.
Interestingly, when I mentioned this to a friend, she told me God had recently given her the same instruction. As we compared notes, we realized we’re seeing many of the same results.
In “losing” that workday, setting Sunday afternoon and evening aside for rest, we’re both getting more done.
It’s easier to avoid putting things off when you know a full day is coming when you won’t be working. It’s also easier to stay focused when you realize your time is limited.
On Saturday evenings, even when I’m tired, I’ll push through to finish something I might have previously left for “tomorrow.” Because now tomorrow isn’t an option. And there’s something about knowing tomorrow isn’t an option that is very motivating.
In the past, if I took a day off just for me, I’d feel guilty about everything I wasn’t getting done. As a result, my “day of rest” was never truly restful.
Guilt can be exhausting. There is no guilt on Sunday.
Once I get home from church, I am “off” in a very real way. I might toss in a load of laundry… maybe. But I don’t go near my laptop or anything that might pull me into work. The closest I come to working is talking to God. And even then, He’s been known to gently shut me down when my thoughts stray into “unrestful” territory.
Another unexpected result? I look forward to Mondays.
I’ve never hated Mondays, but there have been many when I felt the weekend was too short and I was too tired.
This doesn’t happen now.
When I head to bed on Saturday night, I’m satisfied. I’ve accomplished more than I expected, and I know a true day of rest of coming. After that rest, I’m ready to go again.
I’m less fatigued. Mentally, I feel better than I have in years. My patience is higher, even during one of the church’s busiest seasons. I’m not overwhelmed by everything on my plate.
This has been a complete shift.
Growing up, I had a friend whose family strictly observed the Sabbath. I even remember hearing her dad explain to mine, “You know I don’t do any work on Sunday.” At the time, I thought it a little odd even though I vaguely knew it was one of the Ten Commandments.
I mean, God did say in Exodus 20:9-10 (NLT):
You have six days each week for your ordinary work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath day of rest dedicated to the LORD your God. On that day no one in your household may do any work…
I suppose I assumed it didn’t really apply to modern life—if I thought about it at all.
But it turns out that the need for a regular day of rest very much still applies. And not just because God said so.
There’s a growing body of research suggesting our bodies are literally designed to function best with regular rest.
A regular rest day can:
reduce chronic stress (cortisol levels)
improve sleep quality
help prevent burnout and fatigue
allow physical systems to repair and reset
Without it, you don’t just get tired—you get worn down
On the other hand, when you truly step away one day each week, it can:
restore joy
increase patience
stabilize your mood
lift mental fog
increase creativity
improve decision making
reduce irritability
dissipate anxiety
And that’s just a start.
You stop simply reacting and start thinking clearly again. You remember what matters, who matters, and why you’re doing what you’re doing.
And you remember Who’s really in control. (That would be God.)
As a mostly-recovered control freak, I find that especially important.
It turns out God knew exactly what He was doing when He established the Sabbath. And He knew exactly what He was doing when He told me to start keeping it.
God didn’t command us to rest to slow us down—He commanded it because He designed us to need it.
Have you ever considered setting aside a true Sabbath—one full day to rest with God? You might be surprised what happens when you do.
This piece is even more transparent than what I usually write, but sometimes it’s the things written in the trenches that God uses most. And, frankly, I felt God leaning on me to share. So let’s go.
After a few years of widowhood, I’ve reached the point where I’m seriously considering the possibility of getting married again. Getting here has taken time and many counseling sessions with God as my therapist.
He’s even told me I’m ready to meet someone, which is remarkable. Marriage to a narcissist leaves you carrying a lot of baggage that can be very hard to get rid of. It feels like it’s taken a piece of forever to get where I am today.
So, on a random day not long ago, God decided it was time to take a step.
He told me to set up a profile on a specific dating site.
His instructions made no sense to me. This dating app is so expensive there was no way—even for Him—that I would willingly consider that kind of commitment.
Judge me if you will, but I have an aversion to the whole idea of dating sites—for me. Still utterly confused by His insistence, I signed up for the free plan and determined to cautiously dip my toes in the water.
The extensive profile questions proved truly educational. They forced me to consider how I really feel about certain things. I had to ask myself, “Am I answering based on who I’ve always been, or who I’m becoming?”
But the real education came when I started getting matches. All I could do with the free site was look at their profiles, which I did. I rejected one after another, only “liking” one because I wanted to see what happened when you liked someone—and he was safely located several states away. Why was I rejecting these men? Honestly, for stupid reasons. Except…
God called another counseling session in which He showed me just how much fear still hid in my heart, and it wasn’t fear of the men.
I wasn’t rejecting them; I was rejecting me.
Bottom Line: I was afraid of hurting someone. The thought of potentially holding someone else’s heart in my hand, not knowing if I had what it took to make him happy, doubting that I would be enough…
Frankly, it scared me—and I hadn’t even realized it until God made it clear.
I felt such shame. I’ve really thought I was trusting God completely where potential relationships are concerned. I have faith in God!
But, as He’s reminded me a few times through the years (because I need reminders), when I fail to have faith in myself, when I let that fear settle in, it affects my ability to trust Him. Fear pulls the rug out from under our faith, so we must seek it out and cast it away.
I repented of course; I’ve learned that much for sure! I started actively casting down those doubts when they arise and have renewed my commitment to trust Him without reservation.
If God wants me to get married again, He will bring the right man and we’ll be blessed. It’s inevitable. Never in my life has He failed me, and He won’t fail me now. And if I’m not meant to marry again? That’s cool too. I love the life I’m living.
Getting back to the counseling session, in the end God told me to cancel my membership, that the app had served its purpose. Being who I am, I asked Him to clarify what He meant.
His answer didn’t surprise me. He knew what was hidden in my heart and chose to use the dating app like a mirror so I could see it for myself.
Psalm 139:23–24 (NLT) says:
Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.
I want this. I pray this prayer with the psalmist because only when my heart is cleansed and my anxious thoughts are conquered can I truly stop doing things that offend Him.
Walking the path God has laid out for me is vitally important to me. I never want to risk veering from it even a little bit, and certainly not because of anxious thoughts.
And the beautiful thing? God is always faithful to answer this prayer! When I’m not quite right, He lets me know.
It’s generally God’s own Word that He uses as a mirror, to help me see where I’m missing it. Honestly, this is one of the best reasons for reading the Bible; it has unique power to open our eyes to see things in ourselves we may prefer to ignore.
God also speaks to me personally, gently showing me where I’ve disappointed Him or when I could have behaved in a more godly way.
And then there are the surprising times, like this one, when He tells me to do something that seems utterly ridiculous or follow a path I find completely incomprehensible. I’ve learned to obey anyway, because I know He doesn’t do anything without a purpose.
In this case, that purpose wasn’t meeting someone.
It was revealing something.
God knew exactly what was hidden in my heart. He simply used the dating app as a mirror so I could see it too.
God will use the most unexpected things to help us see what’s hiding in our hearts.
Celebrating Jesus! Tammy C
PS: If you, too, are recovering from a narcissistic relationship, you are enough! Even if you’re carrying baggage like I have been, God can help you deal with it, unpack it, and kick it to the curb.
Have you ever considered looking to Potiphar as an example of how you should walk as a Christian?
Neither had I—until recently.
I’ve been reading The Master’s Indwelling, by Andrew Murray, and in one of the essays he pointed out something I’ve seen probably a hundred times, but never really SAW.
Genesis 39:1-6 NET “Now Joseph had been brought down to Egypt. An Egyptian named Potiphar, an official of Pharaoh and the captain of the guard, purchased him from the Ishmaelites who had brought him there. The LORD was with Joseph. He was successful and lived in the household of his Egyptian master. His master observed that the LORD was with him and that the LORD made everything he was doing successful. So Joseph found favor in his sight and became his personal attendant. Potiphar appointed Joseph overseer of his household and put him in charge of everything he owned. From the time Potiphar appointed him over his household and over all that he owned, the LORD blessed the Egyptian’s household for Joseph’s sake. The blessing of the LORD was on everything that he had, both in his house and in his fields. So Potiphar left everything he had in Joseph’s care; he gave no thought to anything except the food he ate.”
Potiphar saw the evidence of God’s hand on Joseph’s life, and as a result…
“Potiphar appointed Joseph overseer of his household and put him in charge of everything he owned.” “So Potiphar left everything he had in Joseph’s care”
AND
“he gave no thought to anything except the food he ate”
Even though I’ve been thinking about this for days, meditating on it, mulling it over, I’m still sitting here with my mind blown. Potiphar was a heathen. As far as we know, he knew nothing about Joseph’s God beyond the evidence of his own eyes.
But he had enough trust in Joseph and the God Joseph served that he literally trusted Joseph to take care of everything. As Joseph later explained to Potiphar’s wife, she was the only thing Joseph didn’t have access to and power over.
Take a minute to really think about this. I’m serious. I’m encouraging you right now to pause your reading and actually consider what we’re seeing here. This article will still be here when you get back.
[pause]
I’m honestly hoping you’re coming back to this with your own thoughts as I type mine.
This man was almost surely a heathen. He couldn’t have known anything about Joseph’s God. Who would have taught him? Yet he had enough faith in Joseph that he totally stopped worrying about what surely had to be significant wealth?
No wealthy man I know of has ever handed the entirety of his estate over to the care of someone else, to live the rest of his days not worrying about any of it.
I look at Potiphar and I think about how much worry Christians tend to live in. We know intellectually that God has promised to take care of us as long as we follow His lead, doing as He says, but how often do we instinctively try to take back control from the very God we claim to trust?
We’re not alone. Abram did the same thing; he and Sarai ran ahead of God and, by having Ishmael, made things a lot harder on themselves.
So we might be tempted to give ourselves an out. After all, if Abram/Abraham and so many other heroes of the Bible failed to truly trust God then surely God knows I’m just as weak as they were. Right?
But then I look at Potiphar and I have to answer, “Wrong.”
It’s been staring me in the face all this time and I’ve only just seen it. If Potiphar, who knew nothing of the God I serve, was able to fully put everything into Joseph’s hands, then I am capable of putting everything into the hands of the God I know and love. And leave it there!
And not worry about anything except what I want to eat for dinner.
Most of us don’t have a problem with owning a Bible; we may even have several. What we can find challenging is making the time to actually open it up and dig in.
I used the phrase “making the time” intentionally, because this isn’t about finding the time for something we want to do; it’s about intentionally setting aside the time for something that is essential to our spiritual health.
“I know I should, but…”
How many times have I heard a diabetic use these words in reference to watching their sugar intake? Eating excessive sugar could kill them, and yet many struggle to stop.
The same principle applies in all areas of life. “I know I should exercise, but…” “I know I should call my mom regularly, but…” “I know I should study, but…”
Don’t exercise—hurt your body. Don’t call your mom—hurt your relationship. Don’t study—hurt your GPA.
Don’t spend regular, intentional time in God’s Word and you hurt your spirit man—the part of you that is meant to be alive and responsive to God. How can we expect to successfully fight our flesh (which, honestly, is our worst enemy) if we consistently starve our spirits?
I mean that seriously. If you wonder why you keep fighting the same old battles with your flesh, you need to take a good hard look at what you’ve been feeding your spirit. And if you’ve been thinking sitting in a church pew was enough to keep your spirit man alive, you are sadly mistaken.
And I am officially at risk of launching into the series right here and now. I can’t do that, but I will do this. There are myriad scriptures that talk about the importance of being in God’s Word and having it live in you, and there’s no time like the present to get started.
You can study up on why you should be studying. And here’s a list of pertinent references to get you started.
You don’t need to read these all at once. Choose a section, read thoughtfully, and ask God to speak to you through His Word.
The Value & Power of God’s Word Psalm 19:7–11 Psalm 119:105 Psalm 119:160 Proverbs 30:5 Isaiah 55:10–11 Hebrews 4:12
Loving, Meditating on, and Delighting in the Word Joshua 1:8 Psalm 1:1–3 Psalm 119:15–16 Psalm 119:97 Psalm 119:103 Colossians 3:16
Learning, Teaching, and Passing on the Word Deuteronomy 6:6–9 Deuteronomy 11:18–21 Psalm 78:5–7 Proverbs 4:1–7 Matthew 28:19–20 2 Timothy 2:2
Hearing and Receiving the Word Nehemiah 8:1–3, 8 Matthew 4:4 Matthew 11:15 Luke 8:15 Romans 10:17 1 Thessalonians 2:13
Abiding, Remaining, and Staying in the Word John 8:31–32 John 15:7 Acts 2:42 1 Timothy 4:13 2 Timothy 3:14–17 1 John 2:14
Obeying and Living Out the Word Deuteronomy 30:14 Psalm 119:9 Matthew 7:24–27 Luke 11:28 James 1:22–25 1 John 5:3
The Word as Protection, Guidance, and Strength Psalm 119:11 Psalm 119:130 Proverbs 2:1–6 Ephesians 6:17 Colossians 1:9–10
Warnings Against Neglecting the Word Hosea 4:6 Amos 8:11 Matthew 13:19–23 Hebrews 2:1 Hebrews 5:11–14 2 Timothy 4:3–4
Scripture About Scripture Psalm 119 (entire chapter) Romans 15:4 1 Corinthians 10:11 2 Peter 1:19–21 Revelation 1:3
Experiencing the Bible is available in print, eBook, and audiobook.
A new year is the perfect time to build a fresh Bible habit—but it doesn’t have to be overwhelming.
Experiencing the Bible was written to help everyday believers move beyond “checking a box” and into truly engaging with God’s Word in a meaningful, sustainable way.
Sometimes following Jesus begins with one step—one invitation Photo Credit: Judy Keenan
I recently realized something interesting while reading John’s account of how Jesus called His first disciples. Check it out.
Andrew and most likely John, the son of Zebedee, were essentially sent to Jesus by John the Baptist (John 1:35-37)
Simon Peter was brought to Jesus by Andrew (John 1:40-42)
Philip was called by Jesus (John 1:45-48)
Nathanael(Bartholomew) was brought to Jesus by Philip (John 1:45-48)
John (who had likely already met Jesus) & James, the sons of Zebedee, were officially called by Jesus (Matthew 4:22)
Matthew was called by Jesus (Matthew 9:9)
I’m visual and love lists, so now let’s look at how the disciples came to Jesus another way.
Sent to Jesus
Andrew
John, the son of Zebedee (probably)
Brought to Jesus by another disciple
Simon Peter
Nathanael
Called first by Jesus
Philip
James, the son of Zebedee
Matthew
We always refer to Jesus calling the disciples, which He obviously did. But when you look at it broken down like this you see something we tend to overlook. Two men were sent to Jesus by John the Baptist. Two others were brought to Jesus by someone who had already met Him.
Only three of the first seven disciples were first approached by Jesus Himself.
Think about that for a moment.
Of the first seven disciples, only three weren’t either sent to Jesus or brought to Jesus by someone else.
That matters.
As Christians, we tend to think of soul winning, witnessing, and sharing the Gospel as the minister’s job. As a whole, we’re pretty slow to reach out—to invite people to come to know our Jesus, to experience this miraculous relationship.
We pass the buck.
But when you look at this “disciple math,” it’s clear we’ve got it all wrong. From the very beginning, God used people to bring people. John the Baptist sent two of his own disciples to Jesus. Andrew went and found Simon. Philip sought out Nathanael.
They didn’t wait for someone else to do it.
They went to those they cared about and shared what they’d found.
We should follow that example. More than that, we should be so excited about this new life we live that we can’t wait to share it, especially with those we care about, but really with whomever God puts in our path.
But if I’m honest, we often don’t.
We know time is short. Whether it’s because all the signs say the Rapture is imminent, or because we understand that no one is guaranteed tomorrow, we know the time is short. And when I look at myself, I see a failure you may recognize in your own life.
My relationship with God is something I say I want to shout from the rooftops, but do I? Really? Not like I should.
I look at the importance of these men drawing others to Jesus and I know I’ve fallen short. Good intentions are great. Failing to follow through on good intentions is not.
It’s time to be like Andrew and find our Simons.
Oh wow. Think about that.
What would early Christianity have looked like if Andrew hadn’t gone to Simon? Would we have been without the Apostle Peter?
Maybe it starts small, with one conversation, one invitation, one name God brings to mind. But it needs to start.
