The apostle Paul describes his life and ministry with a powerful image from the Old Testament. Writing to both the Church in Philippi and to Timothy, he says that he is “being poured out like a drink offering” (Philippians 2:17; 2 Timothy 4:6).

Paul’s metaphor comes from the sacrificial system found in the Law of Moses. Along with certain offerings, wine was poured out before the Lord as a drink offering. Once it was poured onto the altar or the ground, it could never be reclaimed or used again. It was a visible expression of complete surrender and wholehearted worship. Nothing was held back.

That is how Paul viewed his own life. Day by day, he poured himself out in service to Christ and for the good of others. His time, energy, comfort, and even his future were willingly placed in God’s hands. He did not see his sacrifices as something lost or wasted. He saw them as an act of worship.

That image should challenge every follower of Jesus. Our culture encourages us to preserve ourselves, protect our comfort, and keep our options open. The gospel calls us to something very different. God is not looking for leftovers or spare moments. He desires lives that are fully surrendered to Him.

At the end of each day and each week, can we honestly say that we have poured ourselves out for Christ? Whether through serving someone in need, encouraging another believer, sharing the gospel, or simply being faithful in the responsibilities God has given us, every act of obedience becomes an offering of worship.

A life poured out for Jesus is never a life wasted.

There is a voice that seems to visit all of us from time to time. It whispers, “You are not good enough.”

You’re not smart enough. Not talented enough. Not successful enough. Not spiritual enough. If people really knew you, they wouldn’t think much of you.

That voice is loud, but it isn’t always truthful.

One of the greatest mistakes we make is believing every thought that passes through our minds. Our thoughts should be tested against God’s truth, not the other way around.

Scripture reminds us that our value has never been based on our performance. We are created in God’s image, loved by Christ, and redeemed by His grace. God knows your every weakness and every failure, and yet he loves you anyway.

When that voice starts telling you that you’re not enough, don’t argue with it. Simply answer it with the truth.

On your own, you may never be enough. But in Christ, you are forgiven, accepted, and deeply loved. That’s the voice worth listening to.

In my experience, the people who truly excel are usually focused on one very specific area of expertise.

The best basketball player I knew while growing up never played another sport. It was basketball all the time. The best guitar player I have ever met spent four to six hours every evening practicing. He had very little social life beyond getting together with other musicians to play.

People who become exceptional are often a little obsessed with what they do. That is true in life, and it is true in our walk with God.

Over the years I have met people who became experts in the biblical languages because they studied little else. I have known preachers with an incredible knowledge of the Old Testament because they continually read and reread books about the Jewish people. I have also known people who became outstanding children’s teachers because they devoted themselves to mastering that one skill.

There is a saying that describes the opposite approach: someone can be “a jack of all trades and a master of none.”

I believe God has uniquely wired each of us. Certain areas of faith and ministry naturally capture your heart and imagination. It is okay to lean into those passions. You do not have to do everything well. In fact, it is perfectly acceptable to do one thing exceptionally well.

That focused investment may become your greatest contribution to the Kingdom of God.

A seasoned minister with a lifetime of experience was helping me plan for the future of the Church I lead. He was walking me through what to prepare and what to say. Then he paused and made a statement that made the entire conversation worthwhile.

He said, “Don’t assume the people you lead know what to do.”

Too often, Church leaders like me make assumptions about the people in our Churches. Those assumptions are rarely accurate. Maybe an idea was never explained clearly. Maybe they weren’t listening when it was. Maybe they’re new to the faith, or maybe they’ve been around for years, and things have changed.

Since that conversation, I’ve tried to do a better job of explaining not only what we believe as a Church, but also why we do what we do when we gather together.

It’s okay if someone doesn’t know something and is afraid to ask. As a Church leader, it’s my responsibility to anticipate that reality and turn every opportunity into a teachable moment.

People can’t be expected to know what they’ve never been taught. Never assume understanding. Keep teaching.

Over the years, I’ve heard complaints about almost everything we’ve done at Church.

The music isn’t modern enough, or it’s too modern. The auditorium looked better the old way. “You should change that.” “Why did you change that?” Sometimes it is “I could do that better,” or “you really didn’t do that well.”

There is always someone asking for change and someone else fighting to keep everything the same. One person comes with high expectations; another comes with a high level of frustration. No decision makes everyone happy. Sometimes it feels like every move makes everyone unhappy.

I’ve spent much of my ministry disappointing someone while trying to move the Church forward for the sake of Jesus.

The truth is nothing I do is perfect; far from it. I’m simply doing the best I can with the wisdom, experience, and gifts God has given me. I’m grateful to serve alongside people who are willing to use their own gifts for God’s glory. Together we pray, think, plan, and work to make our Church the very best it can be.

The real challenge isn’t imperfect leadership; it’s unused gifts.

Too many people would rather critique than contribute. The Church doesn’t need more spectators pointing out flaws. It needs more servants willing to offer what God has entrusted to them. God has never required perfection. He asks for faithfulness and willingness.

One of the most encouraging truths in Scripture is that God takes our imperfect offerings and uses them for His perfect purposes. He fills in the gaps of our abilities and knowledge. He multiplies what we place in His hands.

If the kingdom of God is going to continue advancing, every believer must be willing to use their gifts, even imperfectly. Critics will always have preferences, and they’ll always find flaws. But God delights in using willing people for His glory.

Availability has always been more important than ability.

In the United States, we have this amazing phenomenon. People will visit a Church community one time and then decide if it is the right one for them.

I am not so concerned about Christians who come to check us out. Most of them will move on and find another place to worship.

What does bother me are those non-believers who show up and are trying to decide if they want to make God, the Church, or faith a part of their life. This Sunday might be the week that someone takes their first step on their journey with Jesus. It might also be a stumbling block that keeps them from progressing.

This is what keeps me up at night. This is what I pray about every single week. This is why I work so hard to make sure my sermons are clear, educational, and engaging.

Thankfully, God has placed me into a community of believers who are also seeking to make an impact on the lives of others. Each week, I pray that if people are not engaged with the sermon, they will connect with a believer and be encouraged by their faith. I ask God for our greeters to be friendly, for our children’s workers to be prepared, and for our community to shower new people with love and attention.

Each week might be our only chance to share Jesus with certain people. I am so thankful that it is not merely MY only chance, but that we are in this together as a Church and the weight falls on all our shoulders. I need you. We need each other. Together we can touch lives for eternity.

I frequently laugh at the person I have become. I used to be a night owl and think midnight was the right time to sleep. Then I would get up with barely enough time to shower and head out the door to work.

Over the past five years, I have completely changed, and now I am an early bird. Most days I am up around 4 am and in bed between 8- 9 p.m. After my children were all out of the house, it was amazing how quiet the mornings became.

I rise early, often taking a walk with my wife. Next, I shower, get dressed, and head to the office. Once there, I have discovered that no one bothers me. I can spend time in silent prayer, listening to Scripture and getting my heart right for the day. External distractions are very few. I do have to quiet my mind and not give in to the pull of the internet, especially social media.

During those early morning hours, I am the clearest in my thinking, and my creativity level is high. I can write sermons, and often this is when I write these blogs. For me, from 4 to 9 am is the most productive time of my day. If I start each day with this energy, then the rest of the day takes care of itself as I am relaxed to have meetings, conversations, text, email, and complete the busy work that comes every week.

If I can win the morning, then I can win the day.

I suggest that if you are struggling in your creativity, production, or ability to complete tasks, then try getting up earlier. This includes if you are having a hard time with prayer, Bible reading, and your walk with God. Maybe those quiet hours of the morning can get your heart right before you start another day.

When I was a kid, the Army ran an advertisement that said, “We do more before 9 am than most people do all day.” Back then, I thought, “No thank you.” Now that I am an adult, I understand what they were saying; I embrace it with, “Yes, I am there with you.”

Surprisingly, this phrase dates back to the 16th century and was originally used in reference to the theater. Actors were expected to pay attention to the mood of the audience as they delivered their lines.

Thieves also used the concept in the 1800s and early 1900s. They had to scan a room to identify their next victim or determine whom to avoid. By the 1970s, public speakers used the phrase to describe gauging an audience’s willingness to listen. By the 1990s, it had become a core leadership skill for business professionals who needed to read nonverbal cues during presentations.

It is this last use that I often share with people who want to tell others about Jesus. One of the keys to sharing your faith effectively is learning to “read the room.” You need to recognize when someone has opened the door for a spiritual conversation and when their body language says they are finished listening.

Sadly, I learned this lesson by making plenty of mistakes. There were times I stayed silent when I should have spoken, and other times I kept talking long after the other person had stopped listening. I have made just about every mistake a person can make when sharing their faith, and I try to use those experiences to help others. My biggest piece of advice is simple: read the room.

When you understand your audience and how they are receiving what you are saying, you will know when to continue and when to stop. Speaking for Jesus is not about saying everything I want to say; it is about helping someone hear what they need to hear. Once they stop listening, continuing to talk can undo much of the goodwill you have built.

This fall, our Church is asking people to share their story with at least three people in their lives. I am praying that many will take that step. But they will need to be “as wise as serpents” as they speak, or their words may fall on deaf ears.

I was offering some wise counsel to someone in our church. After listening to them describe a struggle in one of their relationships, I began explaining what they could do to improve the situation. I shared principles, practical steps, and what I believed would help.

Then, as the words were leaving my mouth, a quiet thought interrupted me.

I honestly believe it was the Holy Spirit speaking to my conscience.

“You should take your own advice.”

I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts about them, then continued talking. I offered a few more thoughts, a little more wisdom, and another suggestion or two.

Again, the quiet voice whispered,

“Those are great ideas. You should try them.”

By the time our conversation ended and they left, I wasn’t thinking nearly as much about their situation as I was about my own.

I sat there alone and prayed, “Lord, help me become the person I encourage others to be.”

It’s amazing how easy it is to recognize what someone else should do while overlooking the same need in our own lives. Sometimes the best sermon we preach, the best advice we give, or the wisest counsel we offer is actually meant for us first.

Every Monday morning, I feel incredibly grateful for the events of the previous day. On Sunday, hundreds of little things happen before, during, and after our worship service that most people will never notice.

Someone unlocked the doors. Someone made the coffee. Someone prepared the communion. Someone greeted guests. Someone ran the sound booth and the slides. Someone held babies, taught children, prayed with hurting people, cleaned up spills, picked up trash, and stayed late after everyone else had gone home.

Most of these acts will never receive applause. They don’t happen on a stage. They happen behind the scenes.

More than that, some people made decisions quietly in their soul that will impact their future, their family, and possibly everyone they know. Some people gave a financial gift for the first time. Someone else prayed like they never have before. There were dozens of spiritual breakthroughs that it might take years to see.

And that’s exactly how the Kingdom of God works.

Every week I am thankful. Thankful for the people who served and the way God used them. Ministry is rarely glorious, yet God uses our efforts to change the world quietly, unnoticed by most.

I love starting my week with the people of God being the kingdom of God on earth.