“Going the extra mile” has become an expression used to describe anyone willing to do more than what is expected of them. It is based on Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount, where he instructs his followers on how to treat evil and angry people. They will turn the other cheek, and hand over the coat off their back. Then, when they are forced to go one mile, they will gladly walk two (Matthew 5:41).

This appears to be a reference to a military practice of the day. Officers serving Rome were allowed to commandeer a person to help them carry their pack as they traveled. They could force anyone to help them for up to a mile. The Jewish people hated this law as it showed their subjugation to Rome. Jesus tells us followers to “go above and beyond” the legal requirements and go an extra mile.

For Jesus, we are to serve others in ways that go beyond the law and often the realms of acceptable practice. And his followers today must understand this more than a historical phrase. It means Christians are to be people who consistently go above and beyond expectations in their actions, today and every day.  

Sweeping the floors, picking up trash, emptying full trash cans, and removing them would be one example. Moving furniture and helping someone relocate items are other examples. Assisting a person in maintaining their house or yard can be helpful. Offering a ride and being willing to pay for the gas without complaint might be another way to serve.

I could list dozens of ideas here, but you get the picture. Jesus’ followers are people who “go the extra mile” even when no literal miles are involved.

We all love the idea of being the hero. We want to be the one who swoops in with a kind word, a helping hand, or a shoulder to cry on. As followers of Jesus, our hearts are drawn toward compassion. Scripture calls us to “bear one another’s burdens,” and so we often step into the lives of people who seem to be hurting or struggling.

That is good and right. But here’s something we often overlook: when you step in to “stand with” someone, you may, without realizing it, be “standing against” someone else. Your support can unintentionally cast another person as the villain in the story.

It happens in marriages when a friend takes sides. It often occurs in church conflicts when one person’s pain is attributed to the fault of another person. It happens in families when comfort for one child feels like criticism of the other.

Jesus calls us to be peacemakers, not just rescuers. Sometimes being a true friend means listening to the whole story before taking a side. It means offering comfort without feeding resentment. It means encouraging reconciliation rather than deepening the divide.

The hero of the Christian life is never us—it’s Jesus. Our role is not to be the savior, but to point people to the Savior. And when we do that, we avoid turning our compassion into an unintended weapon.

The easiest way to bring clarity to a complex subject is to use a comparison. Stories, metaphors, similes, and analogies serve as bridges between the unknown and the familiar, making complex ideas accessible to any audience.

Using phrases like “imagine this” or “think of it like” isn’t a sign of oversimplification. Instead, it demonstrates mastery and the ability to not only grasp complex concepts but to translate them into language others can understand. Expertise reveals itself in the capacity to make the complicated feel simple.

Every analogy has its limits. Push any comparison far enough, and it will eventually break down or reveal inconsistencies. The goal isn’t perfect correspondence but rather illumination of the essential principles. A well-chosen analogy captures the heart of an idea, even if the details don’t align perfectly.

Jesus’ teaching leaned heavily on this type of explanation. For him, the kingdom of heaven is like … a king, a pearl, a little yeast, a mustard seed, and a dragnet. These weren’t signs of shallow understanding, but evidence of profound comprehension expressed through accessible wisdom.

Doing THE best is likely not the same as doing MY best.

Don’t let that stop you.

The kingdom of God needs your contribution, even if it is not perfect.

Recently, I revisited my old blog posts. It was a journey that proved both humbling and enlightening. Reading my work from eleven years ago was almost painful. Those early posts were riddled with mistakes, clunky writing, and wandering focus that made me wince.

My posts from six years ago told a different story. While I wasn’t delighted with them either, they showed clear progress. The writing had improved dramatically, though grammatical errors still peppered the text. These pieces were longer and more content-heavy than what I publish now, which explains why I could only manage two or three posts per week.

Today, I’ve found my rhythm. I’m genuinely pleased with both my writing system and the quality I’m producing. My posts are concise and digestible, crafted for busy readers who want substance without the fluff. My process has evolved too: I write, then put each piece through three rounds of editing to check grammar, refine the tone, and search for more effective phrases. I maintain a buffer of at least a week, giving myself space to revise when inspiration strikes. The result is work I’m proud to share with the world.

Last week, sitting in my office, I felt the urge to delete those early years entirely. Then I considered updating and republishing the old posts. In the end, I chose to leave them untouched and keep moving forward.

Those old posts chronicle more than just my evolution as a writer. They also document my growth as a Christian, parent, and pastor. Each imperfect sentence represents a step in my journey forward.

Many of us harbor the desire to erase our past, to delete or rewrite our earlier selves. Yet that flawed, fumbling past is precisely what brought us to where we stand today. Those words and experiences, however imperfect, are the building blocks of who we’ve become. I thank God for where I have been, but also for the way he is changing me through the years.

Every week, while I am in front of the Church, I look out and see three groups of people. 

One group is engaged. I love those people. They have their Bibles in print, or they follow along with their digital version. Sometimes they have notebooks. Often, they lean forward and listen.

Another group is distracted and frequently disinterested. The topic may not apply to them. They may stare out the window or at their phone. I use every tactic in my arsenal to get their attention because I know they are listening, but I am not connecting.

The final group is already asleep, or I watch them slowly nodding off. Most of the time, I recognize that it is not my fault. Late nights, long weeks, and physical exhaustion take over, and no matter what I say, I will lose them. 

Every week, I work and write the best sermon I am able. I take my sermon preparation very seriously. I pray, read, write, edit, and pray again. I utilize all the tools at my disposal to make the topic relevant and present it in an engaging style. I practice on Saturday night and Sunday morning, doing everything in my power to convey a message that connects.

Then I stand up and people sleep. Every. Single. Week.

I have come to realize that there is very little I can do about it. I am unable to force people to listen. While I strive to present the best sermon possible, I cannot make people hear what I am saying. Part of growing as a believer is not just having the best preachers and teachers, but also having a desire to learn from them. I cannot give anyone that desire.

This Sunday I will preach. Whether you find it helpful to your spiritual journey is up to you. You can engage or you can sleep, the choice is yours.

We need to be clear about why we are serving as part of a Church.  

Some people serve to use their gifts to the glory of God.

Others serve because they have a gift and enjoy using it.

Both groups are part of the Church, and most of the time, I cannot tell the difference by watching. Deciding on your motivation requires some soul-searching and prayer. Ultimately, it is between you and God, but it is an important question to consider.

One leads people to praise God, and the other to praise you.

Following Jesus isn’t easy.

There are moments when life tries to push us off course. Doubts creep in. People disappoint us. Culture pulls in the opposite direction. But as followers of Jesus, we have made a decision: we will not be deterred.

Nothing will stop us from growing in our faith. Not setbacks. Not opposition. Not even our failures. Jesus called us to take up our cross daily and follow Him no matter what comes our way.

We keep our eyes fixed on Him, the author and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2). We move forward, step by step, day by day, knowing that every small act of obedience matters. No matter how hard the narrow road becomes, we are not turning back.

Let trials and struggles come. We are undeterred. We know who walks beside us. And we know where we’re headed.

As followers of Jesus, we’ve all encountered people in our faith circles who appear less committed or engaged. Jesus refers to these people in the book of Revelation as “lukewarm.” Those people who attend church but avoid deeper commitment, or those who haven’t yet rooted their lives in God’s Word. It can be discouraging, especially when we long to see spiritual growth in our friends and family.

The reality is that each person’s relationship with God unfolds uniquely. While some believers establish strong roots quickly and consistently bear spiritual fruit, others require more time, patience, and genuine friendship to flourish. Instead of allowing frustration to take hold, God invites us to respond with compassion, understanding, and kindness.

When we choose grace over judgment, we reflect the patience Jesus showed to His disciples when they misunderstood or doubted Him. Sometimes, our genuine care and consistent faithfulness provide just the encouragement someone needs to take their next step.

Let’s commit to praying for these fellow believers, welcoming them warmly, sharing our own stories of growth, and demonstrating the profound joy we’ve discovered in Christ. We might be amazed by what God accomplishes when we choose to love deeply, meeting others exactly where they are in their journey.

Every time I walk a family through funeral planning. My mind is struck by how enlightening this time can be for people.

A funeral service has a unique way of cutting through the noise of our daily lives. As we sit surrounded by grieving family and friends, we are confronted with the undeniable reality of our mortality. The life of the person we’re mourning, once vibrant and full of activity, is now over.

And in that space, a profound shift occurs. The things we once thought were so crucial suddenly lose their luster. The size of the deceased’s home, the brand of their clothes, the items they collected, and the trophies achieved are utterly meaningless in the face of eternity.

Listen closely to any eulogy, and you’ll notice what’s missing. No one celebrates how much someone owned or earned. Instead, we honor their compassion, integrity, generosity, and the relationships they nurtured. We speak of lives touched, communities served, and love freely given.

A funeral, while deeply painful, can serve as a powerful and necessary reset. It forces us to pause and evaluate our own lives. Are we chasing after fleeting treasures that will one day turn to dust? Or are we investing in things that will last for eternity?

In the end, it’s not about what we had, but who we were and whose we are.