John
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I thought about Moses tonight as I stood in the kitchen, trying to chop an onion for the dinner Talacey and I were making together…
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Since my accident, I’ve had to relearn how to grip things. I remember the first time I tried to pick up a cup of coffee. I could close my fingers around it, but the moment I tried to lift it? It slipped right through. My hand simply couldn’t hold on. And I hate that feeling.…
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It’s easy to read about the Pharisees and assume we’re different. But the truth? We all have blind spots. And more often than not, we don’t see them until someone else points them out. If there’s anyone who excels in helping me see when I’m wrong, it’s my wife, Talacey.
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Just last night, Talacey and I got home from a seven-hour round-trip drive to meet with my surgeon in San Francisco. We planned the next two surgeries—one in two months to release the extensor tendons on the back side of my hand, and another two months after that to release the flexor tendons on the…
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Plenty of people claim faith. We wear the label. We call ourselves Christians. We check the right boxes. But Jesus makes it clear: It’s not about what we say—it’s about who we follow. Because who you follow determines who you truly belong to. And who you belong to determines how you lead.
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Light does two things. It reveals—exposing what’s hidden, making things unmistakably clear. And it restores—leading us out of darkness into healing, hope, and truth. But the problem? We don’t always want the light.
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She had been caught. Not suspected. Not accused. Caught. Dragged from wherever she was, through the streets, thrown into the dirt before a crowd—and before Jesus. The law was clear. The penalty was death. And the religious leaders were ready to make an example of her. But this wasn’t about justice. It wasn’t about righteousness.…
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Just yesterday, I helped a buddy unload a truckload of bark and another truckload of river rock. Or at least, I tried to help. I couldn’t lift the wheelbarrow on my own. I struggled, embarrassed, having to ask him for help when I was supposed to be there helping him. And I hated that.
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It’s not lost on me that I tend to be… reactive. We always joke with our friends J and Monica because Talacey and J are the stoic, level-headed, slow-to-speak ones. But Monica and me? Not so much. My default is to speak before I think, to let emotions get the best of me. It spills…
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Following Jesus is easy when He’s handing out miracles. But what about when He’s leading us through something harder?
