Living a life shaped by gratitude isn’t just a pleasant idea—it’s a Biblical command, a spiritual discipline, and a pathway to deeper joy, peace, and intimacy with God. The King James Version highlights gratitude as a defining mark of a believer who truly understands God’s goodness.
Let’s explore how thankfulness can reshape your spiritual life from the inside out.
1. Gratitude Aligns Your Heart With God’s Will
One of the clearest Biblical instructions on gratitude is:
“In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:18 (KJV)
Thankfulness isn’t optional—it’s God’s will. When you practice gratitude, you’re not just being polite; you’re aligning your heart with God’s desires. It shifts your focus from what’s wrong to what God is doing.
2. Gratitude Rewires Your Perspective
The Bible repeatedly shows that gratitude changes how you see your circumstances.
Paul gave thanks while in prison.
David gave thanks while being pursued by enemies.
Jesus gave thanks before feeding the 5,000—before the miracle happened.
Gratitude teaches you to see life through the lens of God’s faithfulness rather than your fears.
3. Gratitude Protects Your Mind and Spirit
Philippians 4:6–7 connects thanksgiving with supernatural peace:
“Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God…”
Thankfulness is not just an attitude—it’s a spiritual defense system. It guards your heart from anxiety, bitterness, and discouragement.
4. Gratitude Deepens Your Worship
The Psalms are filled with commands to give thanks:
“O give thanks unto the LORD; for he is good…” (Psalm 107:1)
“Enter into his gates with thanksgiving…” (Psalm 100:4)
Thankfulness is the doorway into worship. When you thank God, you’re acknowledging His character—His goodness, mercy, and faithfulness.
5. Gratitude Strengthens Your Faith
When you thank God for what He has done, you build confidence in what He will do.
David remembered God’s past faithfulness before facing Goliath. Your gratitude becomes a record of God’s track record.
It says: “God has been faithful before. He will be faithful again.”
6. Gratitude Transforms Your Relationships
A thankful heart is softer, kinder, and more patient.
It reduces complaining.
It increases compassion.
It helps you see others as gifts rather than obstacles.
Biblical gratitude spills over into how you treat people.
7. Gratitude Keeps You Spiritually Awake
Romans 1 describes unthankfulness as the beginning of spiritual decline. A lack of gratitude leads to:
pride
entitlement
spiritual blindness
But a thankful heart keeps you humble and aware of God’s presence.
How to Cultivate a Biblical Life of Gratitude (KJV Style)
Here are simple, powerful practices:
• Start your prayers with thanksgiving
Before asking for anything, thank God for something.
• Keep a gratitude journal
Write down daily blessings—big or small.
• Speak gratitude out loud
Tell others what God has done for you.
• Thank God in difficult moments
Not for the hardship, but in it—trusting His purpose.
• Read Psalms of thanksgiving regularly
They train your heart to praise.
A Final Thought
Gratitude isn’t just a feeling—it’s a spiritual posture. It changes how you pray, how you worship, how you think, and how you live.
When you practice thankfulness, you’re not just obeying Scripture—you’re opening the door to a richer, deeper, more joyful walk with God.
There was a season in my life when worry felt like a constant companion. Nights were spent tossing and turning, my mind racing over tomorrow’s troubles—bills, health, relationships, the uncertainties of the future. I knew in my head that God was sovereign, but my heart struggled to rest in that truth. It was during those sleepless hours that I turned anew to the Word of God, particularly the King James Version that I’ve cherished since childhood. The Lord’s words began to pierce through my anxiety, reminding me that worry is not part of the abundant life He promises.
One passage that gripped me most was from the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus says plainly:
“Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?” (Matthew 6:25 KJV)
“Take no thought”—in the old English, that means don’t be anxious or overly careful about these things. I had to ask myself: If God clothes the lilies and feeds the birds, how much more will He care for me, His child? Yet I was spending hours fretting over provision, as if my worrying could add anything to my stature or security.
Jesus continues:
“Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?” (Matthew 6:27 KJV)
No amount of worry ever lengthened my life or solved a single problem. It only stole my peace. He urges us further:
“Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? … Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” (Matthew 6:31, 34 KJV)
Living one day at a time became my lifeline. Tomorrow’s burdens are not mine to carry today.
The Apostle Paul echoes this in his letter to the Philippians, a verse I now pray daily:
“Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.” (Philippians 4:6 KJV)
“Be careful for nothing”—don’t be full of care or anxiety about anything. Instead, turn every worry into prayer. I’ve learned to list my concerns before the Lord, thank Him for His past faithfulness, and leave them there. The promise that follows has proven true in my experience: His peace guards my heart like a sentinel.
Peter puts it even more tenderly:
“Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.” (1 Peter 5:7 KJV)
He careth for me—personally, intimately. What a comfort to roll every burden onto Him, knowing He is strong enough to bear it.
Through these scriptures, I’ve discovered that worry is often a sign I’ve forgotten who my Father is. It’s not that troubles vanish, but when I fix my eyes on His promises, anxiety loses its grip. Today, I’m still learning, but I’m freer than I was. If you’re battling worry, open your Bible to these verses. Speak them aloud. Let the timeless words of the KJV wash over your soul. The Lord who spoke them still speaks peace to the anxious heart.
What about you? Has a particular scripture helped you release worry? I’d love to hear in the comments.
For years, I prided myself on having everything mapped out—my days, my goals, my future. I liked order, predictability, and the quiet satisfaction of a well-kept schedule. Then God began interrupting me. Not gently nudging, but quick, unmistakable interruptions that turned my plans upside down. At first, I resisted. Who wouldn’t? But as I looked into Scripture, I saw that the Lord has always worked this way with His people. Those sudden divine interruptions aren’t accidents; they’re invitations to something greater.
I think of Moses, peacefully tending his father-in-law’s flock in the desert. Forty years had passed since Egypt, and life had settled into a quiet routine. Then one ordinary day, he saw a bush burning yet not consumed. When he turned aside to look,
“God called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses. And he said, Here am I.” (Exodus 3:4 KJV)
That quick interruption changed everything. In a moment, a shepherd became the deliverer of a nation. God taught me through Moses that He often speaks in the middle of our everyday lives, but we have to be willing to stop, turn aside, and listen. I’ve learned to pause when something unexpected grabs my attention—it might just be the Lord calling my name.
Then there’s Saul on the road to Damascus. He had his plans firmly set: arrest Christians, stamp out this new faith. He was confident, zealous, and completely wrong. Suddenly,
“there shined round about him a light from heaven: And he fell to the earth, and heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?” (Acts 9:3-4 KJV)
In one blinding instant, the persecutor became the persecuted, the enemy became the apostle. That story humbles me. No matter how far I’ve strayed or how tightly I cling to my own agenda, God can interrupt with saving grace. His interruptions aren’t always comfortable, but they are always merciful.
I remember when the Lord interrupted my own carefully laid career path. I had a five-year plan, promotions lined up, everything on track. Then came an unexpected door closing, followed by an opportunity I never would have sought. Like Abram, who was settled in Haran when God spoke:
“Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father’s house, unto a land that I will shew thee.” (Genesis 12:1 KJV)
Abram obeyed without a map, without guarantees—only a promise. That interruption launched the covenant that would bless the world. I’m learning that when God says “Go,” even when I don’t understand where, obedience opens doors to blessings I could never plan for myself.
Even Jesus lived an interruptible life. On His way to heal Jairus’s dying daughter, a desperate woman touched the hem of His garment. Most of us would have kept walking—important mission, urgent deadline. But Jesus stopped.
“And Jesus said, Who touched me?” (Mark 5:30 KJV, context)
He paused for one forgotten woman in the crowd. That day taught me that true ministry often happens in the interruptions. When my schedule gets derailed by someone in need, it might be the Lord redirecting me to the very thing He wants me to do.
Paul experienced this too. He and his team had detailed plans to preach in Asia, but:
“they were forbidden of the Holy Ghost… And a vision appeared to Paul in the night; There stood a man of Macedonia, and prayed him, saying, Come over into Macedonia, and help us.” (Acts 16:6, 9 KJV)
A blocked path and a nighttime vision sent the gospel into Europe. God’s interruptions often protect us from good plans so He can give us His best ones.
Looking back, every major turning point in my faith has come through a quick interruption I didn’t see coming. A conversation I didn’t plan. A door that slammed shut. A prompting I almost ignored. Each time, the Lord was directing my steps, just as He promised:
“A man’s heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps.” (Proverbs 16:9 KJV)
These days, I hold my plans more loosely. I still schedule and prepare, but I pray to stay interruptible—ready for the burning bush, the blinding light, the unexpected voice saying, “Come over and help.” Because I’ve learned that God’s sudden interruptions are never random. They are loving, purposeful, and always leading me closer to His heart.
Has the Lord ever interrupted your plans in a way that changed everything? I’d love to hear your story in the comments.
One of the greatest encouragements in my walk with God has been realizing that He delights in using ordinary people for extraordinary purpose. For a long time, I assumed God only used the strong, the gifted, or the spiritually polished. But the more I’ve read Scripture — and the more I’ve lived my own story — the more I’ve seen that God’s pattern has always been to take the ordinary and make it extraordinary.
I See Myself in the Ordinary People of Scripture
When I look at the people God used, I don’t see perfection. I see people like me.
Moses struggled with insecurity and speech, yet God told him, “I will be with thy mouth” (Exodus 4:12).
David was just a shepherd boy when God chose him (1 Samuel 16:11–13).
Ruth was a foreign widow, yet God wove her into the lineage of Christ (Ruth 4:13–17).
Peter was a fisherman with flaws, but Jesus called him anyway (Matthew 4:18–20).
Mary was a young girl from Nazareth, yet God entrusted her with the Savior (Luke 1:26–38).
Seeing how God used them has helped me believe He can use me too.
God Has Never Asked Me to Be Extraordinary — Just Available
One of the most freeing truths I’ve learned is that God isn’t looking for my ability as much as my availability. When Isaiah said, “Here am I; send me” (Isaiah 6:8), he wasn’t offering perfection — he was offering willingness.
Jesus did the same with His disciples. He didn’t choose the elite. He chose ordinary men and simply said, “Follow me” (Matthew 4:19). That same invitation echoes in my own life. God isn’t waiting for me to become impressive. He’s inviting me to follow Him, trust Him, and let Him shape me.
My Ordinary Story Is Not a Disqualification
There have been seasons where I felt too simple, too flawed, or too unqualified for God to use me. But Scripture tells me otherwise.
Paul wrote, “God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise” (1 Corinthians 1:27). That verse has become a lifeline for me. It reminds me that God intentionally chooses people who don’t look extraordinary so His power can shine through them.
My background, my personality, my weaknesses — none of these things disqualify me. In God’s hands, they become part of His purpose.
God Often Meets Me in the Ordinary Moments
I used to expect God’s calling to show up in dramatic ways. But more often, He meets me in the simple, everyday moments:
A quiet prompting to encourage someone
A small step of obedience
A conversation I didn’t expect
A burden placed on my heart
A door I didn’t even know to knock on
Moses was tending sheep when God called him (Exodus 3:1–4). Gideon was threshing wheat (Judges 6:11–12). David was delivering bread (1 Samuel 17:17–20). The disciples were mending nets (Matthew 4:21–22).
God still steps into the ordinary moments of my life and turns them into something meaningful.
My Weakness Has Become a Place for God’s Strength
One of the most humbling lessons I’ve learned is that God’s power shines brightest in my weakness. Paul said, “My strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). I’ve seen that in my own life. The moments where I felt least capable have often become the moments where God worked most clearly.
It’s not about me being extraordinary. It’s about Him being extraordinary through me.
I’m Part of the Story God Is Writing
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: God can use someone like me.
I don’t have to be the strongest, the smartest, or the most gifted. I just have to be willing. Because when I place my ordinary life in God’s hands, He does what only He can do — He turns it into something extraordinary.
I never expected the twelve disciples to impact my life the way they have. For years, they were just names on a page — familiar, but distant. But when I began to look closely at who they were, something in me changed. These weren’t flawless spiritual giants. They were ordinary men with ordinary struggles, yet Jesus called them anyway.
When I read how Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee and said to Peter and Andrew, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Matthew 4:19 KJV), it struck me that He didn’t choose them because they were already qualified. He chose them because He saw what they could become. That truth began to soften the pressure I’d always felt to “have it all together.”
Peter’s boldness, Matthew’s past as a tax collector, Thomas’s doubts — none of it pushed Jesus away. Matthew himself records Jesus calling him while he was still sitting at the receipt of custom (Matthew 9:9 KJV). That moment reminds me that Christ meets us where we are, not where we think we should be.
Even the presence of Simon the Zealot amazes me. A man once driven by political passion now walking alongside Matthew, who had worked for Rome. Only Jesus could unite people like that. It echoes His prayer for His followers: “that they all may be one” (John 17:21 KJV). Their unity wasn’t built on sameness — it was built on surrender.
Seeing their diversity has helped me embrace my own background. For a long time, I felt like my past disqualified me. But the disciples remind me that Jesus doesn’t erase our stories; He redeems them. Paul later wrote, “God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise” (1 Corinthians 1:27 KJV), and I see that truth reflected in the disciples’ lives — and in mine.
Their failures also give me hope. Peter sinking in the water (Matthew 14:30 KJV), Thomas needing to see the wounds (John 20:25 KJV), the disciples arguing about who was greatest (Luke 22:24 KJV) — they were learning, stumbling, growing. And Jesus never gave up on them. That has helped me trust that He won’t give up on me either.
What impacts me most is how their differences became strengths once they surrendered to Christ. Fishermen who knew teamwork. A tax collector who understood details. A zealot whose passion was redirected. It reminds me of Paul’s words: “For the body is not one member, but many” (1 Corinthians 12:14 KJV). God uses our differences to build something bigger than any of us could build alone.
The disciples’ story has reshaped how I see myself, how I see others, and how I see the calling of Christ. Their lives remind me that following Jesus isn’t about perfection — it’s about willingness. It’s about hearing His voice, just as they did, and choosing to rise, leave our nets behind, and walk with Him (Matthew 4:20 KJV).
When we picture the twelve disciples, it’s easy to imagine a tight‑knit group who always understood one another and naturally worked together. But the truth is far more compelling. These men came from different walks of life, carried different personalities, and represented different social classes—yet they were drawn into a single movement that would reshape history.
Their unity wasn’t the product of similarity. It was the result of Christ’s call.
A Mosaic of Backgrounds
The disciples weren’t chosen from the religious elite or the political ruling class. They were ordinary people with ordinary jobs—yet each brought something unique to the table.
Fishermen like Peter, Andrew, James, and John were hardworking, practical, and accustomed to long nights and unpredictable waters. Their resilience became a backbone of the early church.
A tax collector like Matthew came from a profession despised by his own people. His inclusion showed that no one was beyond redemption or purpose.
A zealot like Simon belonged to a radical political movement. His fiery passion was redirected from rebellion to the gospel.
A skeptic like Thomas brought a thoughtful, questioning mind that helped strengthen the faith of others.
A treasurer like Judas—though his story ends tragically—reminds us that even those close to Jesus wrestled with human weakness.
This wasn’t a group that would naturally gather around a table. Yet Jesus brought them together intentionally.
What United Them
1. A Shared Calling
Each disciple heard the same invitation: “Follow me.” That simple call cut across their differences. Christ didn’t ask them to become identical—He asked them to walk with Him.
2. A Shared Transformation
They didn’t start as spiritual giants. They argued, misunderstood, doubted, and failed. But walking with Jesus reshaped them. Their unity grew not from perfection but from shared transformation.
3. A Shared Mission
After the resurrection, these once‑ordinary men carried the gospel across continents. Their backgrounds became assets:
Fishermen knew how to work in teams.
A tax collector understood record‑keeping and organization.
A zealot knew how to speak to the passionate and politically driven.
A skeptic knew how to reach those who needed evidence.
Their diversity didn’t hinder the mission—it amplified it.
Why Their Story Still Matters
The disciples remind us that the kingdom of God is built not on sameness but on surrender. Christ doesn’t erase our backgrounds; He redeems them. He doesn’t flatten our personalities; He channels them.
In a world fractured by differences, the disciples show what’s possible when people unite around a purpose greater than themselves.
They were fishermen and tax collectors, skeptics and zealots—yet together, they became the foundation of the church.
And their story invites us to consider: What could Christ do with our differences if we offered them to Him?
Over the past five decades (roughly 1975 to 2025), church attendance in the United States has undergone a profound transformation. What was once a cornerstone of American social life—attending religious services weekly or nearly weekly—has seen a steady decline, particularly from the 1990s onward. Yet, recent data suggests this downward trend may be slowing or even stabilizing, with hints of resurgence among younger generations.
The Peak and Early Decline (1970s–1990s)
In the mid-20th century, church attendance was at historic highs. Gallup data from the 1950s showed weekly attendance rates around 49%, with church membership hovering near 70–76%. By the 1970s and 1980s, membership remained relatively stable at about 68–70%, but subtle shifts were underway. Cultural changes, including greater mobility, secular education, and evolving social norms, began eroding regular participation.
U.S. Church Membership Down Sharply in Past Two Decades
This Gallup chart illustrates the sharp drop in U.S. church membership over recent decades, closely mirroring attendance trends.
Acceleration of Decline (2000s–2010s)
The most dramatic declines occurred in the 21st century. Gallup reports that weekly or nearly weekly attendance fell from about 42% around 2000 to 30% by the early 2020s. Church membership dropped below 50% for the first time in 2020, down from 70% in 1999. Pew Research Center data echoes this, showing monthly attendance declining from 54% in 2007 to around 45% by 2018–2019.
Factors contributing to this include:
Rise of the religiously unaffiliated (“nones”), growing from under 10% in the 1990s to over 28% today.
Generational shifts, with younger adults less likely to attend.
Scandals in religious institutions and polarization tying religion to politics.
These charts highlight the steady decline in regular attendance and shifts among specific groups like Millennials.
The COVID Era and Recent Signs of Stability (2020–2025)
The COVID-19 pandemic accelerated the drop temporarily, with in-person attendance plummeting. Post-pandemic recovery has been partial—many churches report being at 85% of pre-2020 levels. However, encouraging signs have emerged since around 2020:
Pew’s 2023–2024 Religious Landscape Study indicates the long-term decline in Christian identification has slowed or leveled off at about 62%.
Barna and other reports note rising attendance among Millennials and Gen Z, with weekly rates for Millennials increasing from 21% in 2019 to 39% in some surveys.
Among Gen Z, church membership reportedly rose from 45% to 51% between 2023 and 2024.
Non-denominational and charismatic churches have seen growth, offsetting losses in mainline denominations.
A Global Perspective
While U.S. trends show decline followed by stabilization, global patterns vary. Christianity is growing rapidly in Africa and Latin America through conversions and high birth rates. In Western Europe, attendance has fallen to single digits in many countries over decades. The U.S. remains more religious than most developed nations but follows similar secularization patterns.
What Does the Future Hold?
The past five decades reveal a clear story of decline driven by cultural secularization, but the last few years offer cautious optimism. Younger generations’ renewed interest—possibly spurred by a search for meaning amid isolation and uncertainty—could signal a turning point. Churches adapting with hybrid services, community outreach, and relevant engagement may thrive.
The Future of the Church: A Call to Faithful Obedience
The outlook for the Christian church in America—and indeed worldwide—grows increasingly uncertain without a renewed commitment from believers to step up and fulfill the clear commands Jesus gave us in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark. As Jesus prepared to ascend to heaven, He issued what we know as the Great Commission: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:19-20). In Mark’s account, He declared, “Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation” (Mark 16:15). These aren’t optional suggestions—they’re marching orders for every follower of Christ.
If more Christians don’t take ownership of this mission—actively sharing the gospel, discipling others, and living out our faith boldly—the church’s vitality will continue to wane. We’ve already seen decades of decline in attendance and cultural influence, with empty pews becoming a stark symbol in many congregations.
Yet, this isn’t about chasing massive crowds or building empires. Personally, I’m skeptical of the megachurch model—those sprawling congregations with thousands in attendance, often driven by entertainment, celebrity pastors, and transfer growth from other churches. While some megachurches do faithful work, many prioritize size and spectacle over depth, and recent trends show their explosive growth from decades past has slowed. Instead, I firmly believe that every community needs a solid, Bible-believing and Bible-preaching church—a local body of believers committed to sound doctrine, heartfelt worship, and genuine fellowship.
Local churches are the frontline of God’s kingdom work. They’re where the gospel is proclaimed week after week, where believers are equipped through faithful preaching, and where authentic relationships foster accountability and growth. It’s in these settings that Christians can most effectively live out the Great Commission—sharing the good news in everyday conversations, serving their communities, and making disciples who make disciples.
Recent data offers a mix of caution and hope. While overall church attendance has declined over the past five decades, with many congregations still recovering from pandemic lows, there’s evidence of stabilization—and even resurgence among younger generations like Millennials and Gen Z. Barna reports rising attendance among these groups, with some surveys showing weekly participation nearly doubling in recent years. This could signal a turning point if believers seize the moment.
But stabilization alone isn’t enough. The church’s future isn’t dismal by default—it’s contingent on our obedience. If we return to the basics: preaching the full counsel of God’s Word, prioritizing local community impact over flashy programs, and empowering every believer to evangelize, we can see renewal. Every neighborhood deserves a lighthouse—a Bible-centered church where truth is taught unapologetically, lives are transformed, and the gospel goes forth.
Yet challenges remain: fewer Americans see religion as “very important,” and “nones” continue to grow in some metrics. Whether this stabilization endures will depend on how religious communities respond to a changing society.
Data from Gallup, Pew Research Center, Barna, and Lifeway Research provide the foundation for these insights, reflecting a complex but evolving religious landscape in America.
As I sit here this Christmas season, reflecting on the lights twinkling on the tree and the carols filling the air, my heart turns once again to the profound truth at the center of it all: the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ. This holy day is not merely a time for gifts and gatherings, but a celebration of God’s perfect will unfolding in the most humble and glorious way.
In the fullness of time, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, to redeem us who were under the law. The angels proclaimed it clearly that holy night: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men” (Luke 2:14, KJV). What is this “good will toward men”? It is nothing less than the gracious will of God to extend mercy and salvation to a fallen world.
Long before that starry night in Bethlehem, the prophet Isaiah foretold: “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6, KJV). This was no accident or afterthought—it was the eternal will of God, planned before the foundation of the world, to provide a Saviour.
Even our Lord Jesus Himself embodied perfect submission to this will. Though He was equal with God, He came not to do His own will, but the will of the Father who sent Him. As He later prayed in the garden, “not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42, KJV). His entire life, beginning in that manger, was dedicated to fulfilling the Father’s purpose: “My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work” (John 4:34, KJV).
And what is that glorious will? The Scriptures declare it plainly: God is “not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9, KJV). His will is our salvation through faith in Christ. “Who will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:4, KJV). The babe in the manger grew to be the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life (John 3:16).
This Christmas, amid the joy and festivities, I am reminded that the greatest gift is not under the tree, but the One who hung upon it for my sins. As we celebrate His coming, let us also yield our lives to His will, for “the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever” (1 John 2:17, KJV).
May the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, fill your heart this Christmas as you ponder His perfect will revealed in Jesus Christ, our Lord.
Merry Christmas and may God Bless you greatly this coming year as you grow in Faith and understanding of His Word!
As I ponder the times in which we live, I find myself grieved by how far the world has strayed from the clear teaching of God’s Word on matters of gender and human sexuality. In this age, many declare that a person may define their own identity, that gender is fluid, and that any form of sexual expression is acceptable so long as it feels right to the individual. Yet, as a follower of the Lord Jesus Christ, I must stand upon the unchanging truth of Scripture, even when it brings reproach.
Let us begin at the beginning, as the Lord Himself did. In Genesis 1:27, the Holy Ghost declares: “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.” Here is God’s perfect design—male and female, distinct yet equal, both bearing His image. This is no accident or cultural construct, but the very foundation of humanity.
When the Pharisees questioned our Savior about marriage, He pointed them back to this truth. In Matthew 19:4-5, Jesus saith: “Have ye not read, that he which made them at the beginning made them male and female, And said, For this cause shall a man leave father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife: and they twain shall be one flesh?” The Lord affirms that marriage—and indeed, human sexuality—is ordained between one man and one woman, becoming one flesh in God’s sight.
The Apostle Paul, under inspiration, further warns of the consequences when mankind rejects this design. In Romans 1:26-27: “For this cause God gave them up unto vile affections: for even their women did change the natural use into that which is against nature: And likewise also the men, leaving the natural use of the woman, burned in their lust one toward another; men with men working that which is unseemly, and receiving in themselves that recompence of their error which was meet.” Such practices are called unnatural, unseemly, and a recompence in themselves—a judgment from God upon those who suppress His truth.
Again, in 1 Corinthians 6:9-11: “Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind… And such were some of you: but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God.” These sins, including homosexual acts, bar one from the kingdom unless repented of. Yet praise God—there is hope! Some in the Corinthian church had been delivered from these very things through the washing and sanctifying power of Christ.
I do not write these words with hatred in my heart, for the Lord commands us to love our neighbor. Many today wrestle with confusion, pain, or strong temptations in these areas, and my soul aches for them. But love does not affirm what God calls sin; true love points to the Savior who can redeem and transform. As Ephesians 4:15 instructs: “But speaking the truth in love, may grow up into him in all things, which is the head, even Christ.”
Dear reader, if you are struggling, know that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. Repent, believe the Gospel, and find freedom in surrendering to God’s good design. For the church, let us hold fast the faithful word, extend compassion without compromise, and pray for revival.