Learning to Bear With One Another

I'll be the first to admit that I haven't always been very good at this. I'm pretty much a black-and-white kind of person. When someone does something or behaves in a way that doesn't line up with what I believe or how I choose to live my life, my natural tendency is to distance myself and move on.

I've never been one to feel the need to keep people in my life just because they've always been there. And when someone hurts me or someone I love, it's especially hard for me to want to have anything to do with them.

You see, I learned at a young age that sometimes you have to put distance between yourself and people who cause you harm, whether through their words or their actions. Over time, I learned to protect myself and the people I love by keeping my distance. And honestly, there are times when boundaries are necessary. Not everyone needs to have a place in our lives, and forgiving someone doesn't mean we have to allow them to keep hurting us.

But as I've gotten older and continued to grow in my walk with the Lord, I've realized there's a difference between protecting my peace and allowing my own way of thinking to determine how I respond to people.

That's where this verse gets personal for me.

Forgiving others has become easier for me over the years, but bearing with them? That's a different story.

I've worked long and hard on forgiveness. When someone has wronged me or my family, I have to remind myself of how much God has forgiven me. When I really stop and think about the grace and mercy He's extended to me, it puts things into perspective. I know I haven't always gotten things right, and I'm thankful that God doesn't give up on me every time I fall short.

You would think that remembering His forgiveness would make bearing with others easier, too. But if I'm being honest, this is still an area where I struggle.

I can forgive someone and still not want to deal with them. I can choose not to hold on to an offense and still find myself frustrated by someone's behavior. And when I see things as right or wrong, it's hard for me to be patient with someone whose actions I believe are wrong, especially when those actions have caused pain.

But Colossians 3:13 doesn't just tell us to forgive one another. It tells us to bear with one another, too.

I've been thinking about what that really means for me. Maybe part of it is learning to be patient with people even when I don't understand their choices. Maybe it's recognizing that not everyone is going to see things the way I do, and that I don't have to agree with someone to treat them with grace. Maybe it's learning not to let someone's behavior dictate the condition of my own heart.

And that's not always easy for me.

I know what it's like to be hurt by people, and I know how easy it can be to decide that keeping your distance is the best way forward. Sometimes it is. But I don't want my past experiences to make me so quick to walk away that I miss opportunities to show the patience and grace God has shown me.

The truth is, I'm still learning. I know God has helped me grow in forgiveness, but I also know He isn't finished working on my heart when it comes to bearing with others.

And maybe that's the point I need to remember most. God continues to be patient with me while I'm learning, growing, and getting things wrong. He doesn't expect me to have everything figured out overnight, and I need to remember that other people are works in progress, too.

I'm not saying this is something I've mastered. Far from it! But I want to be more mindful of how I respond when people disappoint me, frustrate me, or do things I don't agree with. I want to be willing to ask God to help me respond differently instead of automatically choosing to distance myself.

After all, I can be thankful for the grace God has extended to me while still learning how to extend that same grace to others.

I may not be where I want to be in this area, but I'm thankful God isn't finished with me yet.

Where Is Your Faith?

(taken from an illustration from a sermon my Pastor taught)

Where Is Your Faith? 

When I saw this illustration that our Pastor shared, I knew I wanted to share it here.

It immediately made me stop and think about where my faith is placed.

The illustration says that our faith should be in three main areas:

The blood of Jesus.
The name of Jesus.
The Word of God.

The more I thought about those three things, the more I realized how beautifully they work together.

Faith in the blood of Jesus reminds me of what Jesus did for me.

Romans 3:23-25 tells us that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, but that we are justified through Christ Jesus and His sacrifice.

There is nothing I could ever do to earn salvation. I cannot be good enough, work hard enough, or make myself worthy enough. My hope is in what Jesus did for me on the cross.

His blood paid a price I could never pay.

Faith in the name of Jesus reminds me of who I am trusting.

Acts 3:16 tells us that it is faith in the name of Jesus that brings healing and restoration. There is power in His name—not because the name itself is simply a word, but because of who Jesus is.

When I pray, I want my faith to be in Jesus.

When I am afraid, I want my faith to be in Jesus.

When I don't understand what God is doing, I want my faith to remain in Jesus.

And then there is faith in the Word of God.

Romans 10:17 tells us, “Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ.”

God's Word gives us something solid to stand on when everything around us feels uncertain.

Our feelings change.

Circumstances change.

People change.

Life changes.

But God's Word does not change.

There have been many seasons in my life when I didn't understand what God was doing. I couldn't see what was ahead, and sometimes I didn't even know what I was supposed to do next.

But those are the moments when I have learned that faith isn't about having all the answers.

Faith is trusting the One who does.

When I look at these three areas, I see a beautiful picture:

The blood of Jesus reminds me of what He has done.
The name of Jesus reminds me of who He is.
The Word of God reminds me of what He has said.

And those are three things I never want to forget.

My faith isn't in my circumstances.
My faith isn't in my own strength.
My faith isn't in what I can see.

My faith is in Jesus—His blood, His name, and His Word.

And when I find myself struggling to trust, perhaps the question I need to ask isn't, “Do I have enough faith?”

Maybe the better question is:

“Where have I placed my faith?”

Because when our faith is placed in the right One, we can face whatever comes knowing that God is faithful.  Always. ❤️

---

Esteeming Others

(image is from Dollywood's social media page)

Esteeming Others

God has brought this verse to my attention several times this year and it has been making me stop and think about my own heart.

I think most of us would say we don't want to be selfish or prideful. I certainly don't. But if I'm being honest, I can still find myself making life about me without even realizing it.

How am I being treated?
Do they appreciate me?
Do they understand me?
What about what I need?
What about what I want?

And sometimes those questions aren't wrong. We all have needs, boundaries, and things that matter. But this verse reminds me that following Christ means I can't make myself the center of everything.

Paul tells us, “Let each esteem others better than himself.”

That doesn't mean I have to believe that I'm less valuable than everyone else. It doesn't mean I have to ignore my own needs or allow people to mistreat me. I don't believe God calls us to live that way.

To me, it means choosing to look beyond myself.

Choosing to notice someone else's needs.

Choosing to listen instead of always needing to be heard.

Choosing to celebrate someone else's accomplishments without feeling like they take anything away from my own.

Choosing to serve when I could be served.

Choosing to love when it would be easier to walk away.

And maybe most importantly, choosing to remember that my worth doesn't depend on being better than someone else.

I don't have to compete for my value.

I don't have to prove that I'm important.

I don't have to be the smartest person in the room, have the last word, or receive recognition for everything I do.

Because my identity is found in Christ.

And when I truly understand that, it becomes easier to lift someone else up.

Looking to Jesus

What makes this verse even more powerful to me is what Paul says next.

He doesn't simply tell us to be humble. He points us to Jesus.

Philippians 2:5 says:

“Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus.”

Jesus had every reason to be exalted, yet He willingly humbled Himself and became a servant.

The King became a servant.

The One who deserved glory chose sacrifice.

And He did it for us.

That puts my own little moments of pride into perspective.

If Jesus could humble Himself for the sake of others, how can I refuse to humble myself when God gives me the opportunity to love, serve, encourage, or put someone else first?

I know I won't get this right every time. I am still learning. God is still working on my heart, and I am grateful that He doesn't expect me to arrive at perfection before He can use me.

Sometimes humility looks like saying, “I was wrong.”

Sometimes it looks like letting something go.

Sometimes it means celebrating someone else's victory.

Sometimes it means listening instead of defending myself.

Sometimes it means putting someone else's needs ahead of my own.

And sometimes it simply means asking God to help me see people the way He sees them.

A Different Way to Live

The world often teaches us to look out for number one.

Build yourself up.

Make sure you're recognized.

Get ahead.

Protect your position.

Make sure everyone knows what you've accomplished.

But Jesus shows us another way.

Serve.
Love.
Give.
Encourage.
Forgive.
Lift others up.
Put others first.

That doesn't make us weak.

It makes us more like Him.

And I think that's what Philippians 2:3 is really asking of me—not to think less of myself, but to stop making myself the center of the story.

Because when my eyes are fixed on Jesus, I have less need to prove myself.

I can celebrate someone else's blessings.

I can cheer someone else on.

I can extend grace.

I can serve without needing recognition.

I can love without keeping score.

And I can remember that there is plenty of room in God's kingdom for someone else to shine without making my own light any dimmer.

Lord, give me the heart of Jesus.

Help me lay down selfish ambition and pride. Help me see others through Your eyes. Help me to listen more, serve more, encourage more, and love more.

And when I'm tempted to make everything about me, remind me that it was never about me in the first place.

It has always been about You.

“Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus.”

That is the heart I want.

Not a heart that asks, “What can I get?”

But a heart that asks,

“How can I love?”

“How can I serve?”

“How can I bless someone today?”

Because that is the kind of heart that looks a little more like Jesus.

An Undivided Heart

An Undivided Heart

I have read this verse many times, but recently the words “give me an undivided heart” have really stayed with me.

There is something powerful about knowing the circumstances surrounding this prayer.

Psalm 86 is a prayer of David. We aren't told exactly what situation prompted him to write it, but we know he was in distress. He describes himself as poor and needy and speaks of arrogant and ruthless people coming against him. He was asking God for help, protection, mercy, strength, and comfort.

And yet, in the middle of all of that, David says:

“Teach me your way, LORD.”

Not just change my circumstances.

Not just make this easier.

Not just tell me when this is going to end.

Teach me Your way.

That really makes me stop and think.

Because if I'm being honest, there have been plenty of times in my life when my prayer has been more about asking God to change what is happening around me than asking Him to change what is happening inside of me.

I want answers.

I want clarity.

I want to know what is coming next.

I want to know how everything is going to work out.

And sometimes I want God to show me the destination when He is simply asking me to trust Him with the next step.

But David's prayer goes even deeper.

“Give me an undivided heart.”

The NKJV says, “Unite my heart to fear Your name.” The idea is a heart that is made whole or single-minded in its devotion to God.

An undivided heart.

What would that look like in my life?

It would mean trusting God when I understand what He is doing and when I don't.

It would mean believing He is faithful when I can see His hand and when I can't.

It would mean not allowing fear, worry, disappointment, circumstances, or my own desire to control things to pull my heart away from Him.

Because isn't that what happens so easily?

We can love God and still worry.

We can trust God and still try to control everything.

We can believe God is faithful and still wonder, “But what if this doesn't turn out the way I hope?”

We can have one part of our heart saying, “God, I trust You,” while another part is quietly saying, “But I need to figure this out myself.”

Maybe that's why David's prayer resonates with me so much.

He wasn't praying this from a place where everything was perfect.

He was praying it in the middle of trouble.

And perhaps that is when an undivided heart matters most.

It is easy to praise God when everything is going the way we hoped.

It is much harder—and perhaps much more meaningful—to say:

“Lord, I don't understand this, but teach me Your way.”

“Lord, I don't know what comes next, but help me rely on Your faithfulness.”

“Lord, my heart is being pulled in a hundred different directions, so unite my heart and keep it focused on You.”

I think about how many times God has already proven Himself faithful in my own life.

Looking back, I can see things I couldn't see while I was living through them.

I can see prayers that weren't answered the way I thought they would be, but were answered in ways I didn't yet understand.

I can see places where I thought God was absent, only to realize later that He was protecting me, redirecting me, growing me, or preparing something I couldn't see.

And I can look at where I am today and know that God's faithfulness was never dependent upon my ability to understand His plan.

He was faithful then.

He is faithful now.

And He will be faithful in whatever comes next.

That's why I think this verse is more than simply a beautiful Scripture.

It is a prayer I want to pray over my own life:

Lord, teach me Your way.

Not my way.

Not the way that feels easiest.

Not the way that gives me the answers I want right now.

Your way.

Teach me to rely on Your faithfulness rather than my own understanding.

And when my heart becomes divided between faith and fear, control and surrender, what I want and what You are doing...

unite my heart.

Bring me back to You.

Remind me who You are.

Remind me of everything You have already brought me through.

Remind me that I don't have to know what tomorrow holds when I know Who holds tomorrow.

And may I be able to say, just as David did, that I will praise You “with my whole heart.”

Because at the end of the day, that's what I want.

Not simply a life where everything goes according to my plan.

But a heart that belongs completely to God.

An undivided heart.

A heart that trusts.

A heart that listens.

A heart that follows.

A heart that remembers.

And above all...

a heart that is fully His.

Lord, teach me Your way.