I know how to disappear.

I can walk into a crowd of people and stay virtually out of sight. If I arrive extra early, I can strategically find a spot where no one will notice me. I might choose to show up late if there is a back door I can use to come in quietly and leave before everything is finished.

There are simple tricks like hovering near the back and moving around if possible, so that no one can locate me with a glance. Remain quiet, keep your hands and voice down. Don’t ask questions or do anything that draws attention to me. Participating just enough not to be the center of attention, but not so little as to raise concern.

If you were to try to engage me, I could deflect your inquiries with a question that would generate discussion. Usually, if I respond to a question with another question that requires sharing a personal story, the person will start talking and never come back to me. For example, “How are you feeling? ” is often met with, “I’m okay, and how are you feeling now that you have an empty nest?” And off they go, while I never engage.  

I have been in rooms with a few people to hundreds, and no one has noticed me. They definitely don’t remember me or know anything about me unless I want them to. If necessary, I can stand up, speak, and share my life, but only if I control the information so I can stay hidden.

This might all sound unbelievable to some of you, but to others, you know exactly what I am talking about because it is your life too.

One challenge of the Church is to look around and make sure no one is left out. We are called to engage the people who hang out at the edges. Christians make people feel loved, and more than that, they make them feel seen. They reject shallow answers and won’t allow people to deflect their feelings.

This week, as you walk into a gathering of the followers of Jesus, would you be willing to make sure no one feels alone, right in the middle of the crowd?

This may be the hardest thing in the world for most of us to do. I know it is for me.

I was raised in a home where hard work was valued. Nothing was impossible; if someone said it was, it only meant it took longer and more work. I place a high value on thinking, working, and then fixing things until they are complete.

It is hard for me to admit there are some things I need help with. The thought that I may not be able to complete a task on my own is frightening. It makes me feel like a failure.

I know that some of you know exactly what I mean. You, like me, would rather die alone than count on someone else to help.

YET, as I read the scriptures, I understand that God puts us into his community, the Church, for a reason. We are the body of Christ, and everyone has a purpose. I may serve as a mouthpiece, but I need someone to be the ear and the eye. I need people to play the role of the foot and the hand. And I even need someone to be the pancreas. All the parts are significant, and as part of the body of Christ myself, I need other people.

So whenever I feel like I need to carry a burden alone, my caring Savior reminds me that it is okay to ask for help.

Maybe you need to hear that today, too.

It is a fairly embarrassing story for men who would become the leaders of the Church. James and John come to Jesus, according to Matthew, their mommy is with them (Matthew 20:20-22). They want Jesus to give them the seats to his right and left when he comes into his glory (Mark 10:35-37).

They are looking for recognition, power, and glory by standing on the platform with Jesus. A similar conversation takes place at the last supper, right after communion is introduced, as the disciples argue over who is the greatest among them (Luke 22:24).

The first followers of Jesus had this desire for worldly leadership and recognition. Jesus understands their motivation and states that the leaders of the Gentiles lord it over others, and their high officials exercise authority over others. Then Jesus responds with a one-line statement that I am sure shocked them to their core: “Not so with you.”

In Jesus kingdom, whoever wants to become great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first must be a slave to others. Even Jesus himself, as God in the flesh, did not come to be served but to serve.

Jesus acknowledges there is one driving force for all of humanity. We all desire to be seen as the best, to be first, and to get the Lord’s approval. But there are two ways people attempt to gain it. One is through power, dominance, and assertiveness. The other is the way of Jesus, and it involves selfless service.

If you are a follower of Jesus and you ever feel like you need to push others down, defeat them, or be treated as special. Jesus offers one single line of response: “Not so with you.”

In a world that often seeks sharp lines, the Christian faith is often nuanced. That means there are small variations in thoughts, expression, and application. Not everything in Scripture is meant to be flattened into simple categories or reduced to slogans. Some truths are clear and unchanging, while others require patience, humility, and careful thought. That tension isn’t a weakness; it’s part of what makes faith deep.

Jesus Himself demonstrated this. He could speak with bold clarity, calling people to repentance and faith, yet also respond with wisdom tailored to each individual. To one person, He said, “Follow Me.” To another, “Go and sin no more.” To yet another, He told a story and let the meaning settle over time. Truth was never compromised, but it was often applied with nuance.

Nuance reminds us that faith is not shallow. It holds tension: grace and truth, justice and mercy, conviction and compassion. It allows us to say, “This is true,” while also admitting, “I am still learning how it applies in every situation.”

Without nuance, we can become rigid. Quick to judge, slow to listen. But with it, we grow in wisdom. We learn to handle Scripture carefully, to love people sincerely, and to walk humbly with God.

This doesn’t mean everything is uncertain. The core of the gospel is clear: Jesus saves. But as we live that truth out in a complex world, nuance helps us reflect His heart more faithfully.

Mature faith isn’t just about knowing the right answers. It’s about knowing when to speak, when to listen, and how to apply truth with grace.

Trust might be established by one big event. You plan a big birthday party for a coworker, and a bond of trust might form.

Usually, trust is built over a hundred small actions rather than one big moment.

Think of the people who are closest to you. Your trust was developed when they remembered your birthday or favorite snack. Those people showed up to support you when others forgot. They message when they sense something is wrong. They care about your well-being and are not afraid to ask hard questions. Those are the people you trust the most.

This week, God has given you the opportunity to grow your relationship with the people around you. Commit to doing the small things that build trust and connection. Growing a strong friendship often takes only a few minutes here and there to show that you truly care.

There is a story from the life of Jesus reported in the Gospel of Luke about two women named Mary and Martha. Luke 10:38-42 tells us of Jesus visiting their home one evening. Martha is “distracted by all the preparations,” while “Mary sat at the Lord’s feet.” Martha comes to Jesus and lodges her complaint, “Don’t you care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

We might expect Jesus to side with Martha, as she serves the Lord and his followers. Instead, he responds with “Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed – or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Mary has chosen what is better. She chose to listen to Jesus.

While I love the story, I fear it quickly gets distorted by well-intentioned Christians. As a result, people get asked to serve in a ministry through the Church, and they say, “I just need to spend more time with Jesus like Mary.” This story becomes an excuse to stop serving.

The problem is that most people are not spending more time with Jesus; they are using their time to attend sporting events, go to the lake, or spend time with the family on vacation. That is not the point of the story. The application is that we need to spend more time reading our Bible, specifically the gospels. We need to spend quality time in prayer and stillness before our Savior. The call is for us to enlarge our knowledge of and connection with Jesus.

The narrative is not an excuse to stop serving; rather, it is an instruction to spend more time with Jesus in communion and fellowship than in serving. Our time of worship will fuel our service to him and not negate it.

Jesus wants you to love him first and serve him second. Both parts are necessary, and the order is significant.

The story of Samson and Delilah is told in the Old Testament book of Judges, chapter 16, starting in verse 4.

Samson, who appears to have troubled relationships with women, falls in love with a woman from the Valley of Sorek named Delilah. The Philistines are going to use her to learn the secret of Samson’s strength.

In the story that follows, she asks him directly about the secret and says, “How can you be tied up and subdued?” Her intentions could not be clearer. Samson lies and claims that she needs only to use fresh bow strings. Then, she ties him up to test the story.

Again, she asks, “Tell me how you can be tied.” This time, he weaves a tale about using new ropes. Again, she tries it on him and tests the accuracy. Again, she is unhappy with his deception and says, “Tell me how you can be tied.”

The third time, he tells a lie about weaving his hair into a loom. One more time, she tests his honesty to discover that it does not work.

Finally, it says in verse 16 that “with such nagging she prodded him day after day until he was sick to death of it.” Then in verse 17, “So he told her everything.”

At no point in the account do we ever get the impression that Delilah has Samson’s best interest at heart. She never hides her desire to know the secret to his strength. Not once does she ever give any proof that she is reliable or that she will not hurt him. Samson appears to be blind to her intentions even before he loses his eyes.

Here is the question I kept asking as I read through this narrative again: “Why does he stay in a relationship with her?” Maybe it is willful blindness. Perhaps it is arrogance and pride. Maybe he tries to see the best in others. All the while, the truth is that he is in a toxic relationship.

Let me ask you, “Are there any people in your life who do not have your best interest at heart?” There is a good chance they have not even tried to hide it. They keep putting you in situations that test your strength and the limits of your weakness.

Sometimes the best advice for a toxic relationship is to leave it. I know that is hard to hear, but for the sake of your future, walking away will be less painful than the road that lies ahead if you keep going this way. Sometimes the best thing to say to someone is, “Goodbye.”

Intrusive thoughts are defined as unwanted, uninvited, and often disturbing mental images or ideas that pop into the mind unexpectedly. They are like unwelcome guests who pop into your head, loud, persistent, and often discouraging. When they show up uninvited, if we’re not careful, they will try to convince us they belong. But as followers of Christ, we need to remember something crucial: not every thought that enters your mind deserves to stay.

Scripture reminds us in 2 Corinthians 10:5 that we are to “take every thought captive to obey Christ.” That means we are not powerless. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, we have the ability to challenge what enters our minds.

Think of your mind like a doorway. Thoughts will knock, but you get to decide which ones come in and sit down. When a thought contradicts God’s truth, don’t entertain it. Replace it. Speak Scripture out loud if you need to. Turn your attention to what is true, honorable, and pure.

Overcoming intrusive thoughts isn’t about achieving a perfectly quiet mind. It’s about learning to recognize truth from lies and choosing, again and again, to anchor yourself in Christ.

And every time you do, you’re winning.

I recently printed a three-part statement in large letters. I had never heard it before, but the preacher of a large Church I follow used it as a sermon illustration.

The statement that is now emblazoned on my wall is attributed to Count Nikolaus von Zinzendorf. He was a Moravian Church leader in the late 18th century, and it served as the call to mission work. To be a missionary in a foreign land required humility and sacrifice in the name of Jesus.

The phrase is simply, “Preach the gospel. Die. Be forgotten.”

We are to preach the gospel message of Jesus above all else. There is also the recognition that we do it until we draw our last breath. After that, the goal is for people to remember Jesus and not the person who told them about him. There is no “platform” or “brand” building among the leaders of the Church; instead, the name of Jesus, not our name, will receive the glory.

This has always been my motto of sorts, but this is the first time I have ever heard it articulated this clearly. So I typed it up, set it in bold, printed it, and put it on the wall above my desk.

“Preach the gospel. Die. Be forgotten.” #lifegoals

This is written to the person who is struggling today to keep their head above water for whatever reason. You know who you are.

Please keep treading water. I am praying you will find the strength and energy to keep going today.

And if I am close enough, don’t hesitate to reach out a hand. I would be glad to help in any way that I can.

And if you are not close to me, cry out for help. I am sure someone is more than happy to be there for you. Perhaps there is a community of Jesus nearby, or maybe you are already connected to one, and I am sure someone will help you if you ask.

Some seasons are hard, and you feel like you are drowning. Don’t give up, reach out.