“The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance; it is the illusion of knowledge.” — Daniel J. Boorstin

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This morning while reading about the war in Iran from two different sources, something did not sit right with me. It was the same war and the same events, yet the way it was presented felt like it was pulling me in two different directions. One report focused on what was going wrong, the instability, the danger, and the uncertainty, while the other focused on control, progress, and what was being accomplished. As I read, I could feel that it was not just informing me but influencing how I was supposed to see it.

That is when the question really settled in my mind. If the same facts can be presented in a way that leads me to two completely different conclusions, then how do I really know what is true? I am not there and I cannot see any of it with my own eyes, so everything I know is coming through someone else, through their words, their emphasis, and their perspective. It became clear to me that the way something is presented can shape how it is understood, and that means I may not be receiving truth in its fullness, but only a version of it.

This realization began to trouble me because if my understanding can shift depending on who is telling the story, then I am not standing on something solid. I am being moved by presentation, by tone, and by what is chosen to be highlighted or left out. That kind of understanding is not steady, and it certainly does not feel like freedom. It feels like dependence on voices that I cannot fully verify.

This is what brings me back to something deeper that I have been writing about this past year. The Bible says that you will know the truth and the truth will set you free. Truth that sets you free cannot be something that changes depending on how it is presented or who is speaking. It cannot be something that is shaped by perspective or influenced by agenda, because that would leave me in the same place of uncertainty.

Jesus did not say that He would simply teach the truth, He said that He is the truth. That changes how I see everything, because now truth is not just something I try to gather from the world, it is something unchanging that I can be anchored to. Knowing Jesus keeps the truth right in front of me. He tells us in His Word what man is really like, what the future holds, and what it will look like, and He tells us that He will never leave us. There is no confusion in Him.

So, in a world where things can be twisted, framed, and used to influence, knowing Jesus is what keeps me from being moved by it all. It does not mean I will know every detail of what is happening, but it means I will not be controlled by it. His truth becomes the standard I measure everything else against. When something creates fear, confusion, or division, I can step back and ask if it aligns with what He has already made clear. Instead of chasing every voice, I return to the one voice that does not change.

And more than that, knowing Jesus and having His Spirit in me removes the confusion. I am not left trying to figure everything out on my own, because His truth is already established within me through His Word. When truth is spoken, there is no uncertainty in it, there is clarity, there is agreement, and there is peace. It does not need to be forced or explained away, it stands on its own. Instead of being pulled in different directions by what I hear, I am able to discern what aligns with Him and what does not. That is why there is even a sense of rejoicing when truth is spoken, because it confirms what He has already made known. In a world filled with voices that shape and influence, I am not left to sort through them alone, because I am anchored in Him, and in Him there is no confusion.

This morning I sit quietly and before I can even gather my thoughts, the weight of everything begins to settle in. The world feels unsettled, conflicts across nations continue, tensions rise and fall without warning, and here at home division runs deep while the pressures of everyday life never seem to let up. The cost-of-living shifts, uncertainty lingers, and beneath it all is something even heavier, the concern for health, for family, for the people I love. It is not just one thing, it is everything at once, and it has a way of pressing into the heart in a way that is hard to explain.

It is not weakness to feel overwhelmed; in fact, when we shed tears, they may be part of how God draws us closer to Him. Scripture says that He keeps every tear in a bottle, and I have often wondered why He would hold onto something like that. The only answer that settles in my heart is this, every tear matters to Him. Every moment of fear, every quiet burden, every time I feel the weight of things I cannot fix, He sees it and He does not overlook it. He does not turn away from it. He draws near. He meets me in it, not after I have figured it out, not after I have become stronger, but right in the middle of it.

And that reminds me of something I need to hold onto today, God has not lost control. Nothing happening in the world has caught Him off guard, nothing in my life is outside of His sight, and nothing I am carrying is beyond His care. The chaos I see does not mean He is absent, it means I need to look beyond what is shifting and remember what is not. Jesus said that in this world I would have trouble, and that is evident all around me, but He also said to take heart because He has overcome the world. That means even when everything feels uncertain, the outcome is not uncertain to Him.

So today, even when the weight feels heavy, I am not without hope. Not because everything suddenly makes sense, and not because the circumstances have changed, but because God has not changed. He is still present, still aware, still holding every detail, and still walking with me through all of it. I may not have the strength to carry everything in front of me, but I do not have to, because the One who holds the world is also holding me. And when I cannot see what He is doing, when the path feels uncertain and the answers are not clear, I am reminded of this truth:

“When you cannot trace His hand, trust His heart.” — Charles Spurgeon

And that is where my hope rests today. Not in what I see, but in who He is—faithful, present, and still in control.

God is the God of the impossible. That truth has never changed. But I have had to learn, often through frustration and disappointment, that He has also given me responsibility for the possible. There have been many times when I have gone to God in prayer, asking Him to move, to fix, to provide, and when nothing seemed to happen, I felt let down. But over time, I have come to realize that in many of those moments, I was asking God to do something He had already called me to do.

If I am responsible for the possible, then why do I keep asking God to do it for me? I have had to wrestle with that question honestly. The answer is not always comfortable. Sometimes it is because I want relief without responsibility. It is easier to pray for change than to walk it out. Sometimes it is fear. I hesitate, I doubt, and instead of stepping forward, I stay still and call it waiting on God. Other times, it is simply that I forget God is not a substitute for obedience. He is the One who strengthens me in it, not replaces me in it.

Because doing the possible is not easy. It requires discipline when I feel tired. It requires sacrifice when I would rather choose comfort. It requires action when it would be easier to wait and hope something changes on its own.

I have had to take a hard look at my own prayers. There were times I prayed, “God, help my finances,” while I was not managing my money wisely. Times I asked, “God, help me grow spiritually,” while I was neglecting time in His Word and avoiding prayer. I have prayed, “God, help me be in better shape,” but I was not taking care of my body with discipline. I have prayed, “God, give me peace,” while filling my mind with things that produced stress and distraction. In each of these, I was asking for change without being willing to act.

This has caused me to reflect more carefully. Are my prayers focused on the impossible, where only God can move? Or am I asking Him to step into responsibilities He has already placed in my hands?

What I have learned is this: when I commit to doing the possible, when I take ownership of what I can do, I eventually reach a point where I can go no further on my own. That is where the impossible begins. That is where God steps in, not because I avoided responsibility, but because I fulfilled it.

I used to tell my children when they were growing up, “Do what you can, every time you can, and you will be known as someone who gets things done, not someone who kicks the can down the road.” That was not just something I wanted for them. It is something I have had to learn to live myself.

God is not asking me to sit back and wait for Him to do everything. He is asking me to be faithful, to act, to walk in obedience with what He has already given me. And when I reach the end of my strength, when I have done all that I can do, that is when I see Him move in ways that only He can.

Turn on the news today and it is impossible to miss. Donald Trump stands at the center of indictments, courtrooms, investigations, and relentless media scrutiny. His name fills headlines daily, surrounded by accusations, criticism, and condemnation. He is portrayed not only as politically unfit, but as morally disqualified. Yet beyond the political noise, there is a deeper argument being made, often by those outside the faith. They point to him and ask, “This is your man? This is who you support?” From that question, they attempt to draw a sweeping conclusion—that the beliefs, values, and convictions of those who stand for biblical truth must also be flawed, compromised, or invalid.

This argument may sound convincing on the surface, but it collapses under the weight of Scripture. It assumes that God’s work is dependent upon human perfection, and that His purposes are carried out only through those who meet a certain moral standard. That idea is not found in the Word of God. In fact, Scripture reveals the exact opposite.

In Isaiah 45, God speaks of Cyrus, a pagan king who did not know Him, did not follow Him, and did not belong to His covenant people. Cyrus was not chosen because of righteousness or devotion. Yet God declares that He takes Cyrus by the right hand, that He goes before him to subdue nations, to break down gates of bronze, and to open doors that no one can shut. God calls him by name, appoints him, and strengthens him for a divine purpose, even though Cyrus himself does not acknowledge the Lord. This is not an isolated moment in Scripture. It is a clear demonstration of how God works.

The pattern continues throughout the Bible. Moses, the deliverer of Israel, was a man who had taken a life. David, called a man after God’s own heart, committed adultery and arranged for the death of an innocent man. Samson was driven by weakness and impulse. Peter denied Christ at His most critical hour. Paul persecuted the church before becoming one of its greatest leaders. These were not perfect men. They were flawed, broken, and at times deeply sinful. Yet God used each of them to accomplish His purposes and reveal His glory in ways that no perfect man ever could.

When critics attempt to discredit truth by pointing to the imperfections of a man, they reveal a misunderstanding of who God is. They judge the validity of truth based on the vessel, while God has always demonstrated His power through imperfect instruments. The issue is not the perfection of the man. The issue is the sovereignty of God.

What we are witnessing in our time is more than political conflict. It is a collision between human reasoning and divine authority. In a culture filled with division, moral confusion, and increasing hostility toward faith, many have assumed that God must operate within the boundaries of human approval. They expect Him to choose leaders who align with their expectations, reflect their values, and satisfy their understanding. But God has never worked that way.

Scripture confronts this mindset directly. “Who are you to question Me?” the Lord declares. “Will the clay speak to the potter? Will you instruct Me on the work of My hands?” There is a line that must not be crossed. When man assumes the authority to decide whom God can or cannot use, he elevates his own understanding above the authority of God. That is not discernment. That is presumption.

Whether one believes Donald Trump is being used by God or not, one truth remains unshaken. God is not subject to media narratives, public opinion, or cultural pressure. He raises up leaders for His purposes. He uses individuals to bless, to judge, to expose, and to prepare. His plans are not shaped by headlines, and His purposes are not determined by human approval.

As A.W. Tozer once said, “God is not looking for men of great faith, but for common men to trust His great faithfulness.” This truth cuts through every argument and every accusation. God has never depended on perfect people. He has always revealed His power through His sovereignty.

God does not ask for permission. He does not explain Himself to man. He is the Potter, and we are the clay. He forms, He appoints, He establishes, and He removes according to His will alone. If He chooses a Cyrus, He does not justify it. If He raises up a flawed man, He is not hindered by it. If He uses the unexpected, it is not an exception, it is His pattern. His power is not proven through perfect people, but through His absolute authority over all things.

And in the end, when the headlines fade, when the courtrooms fall silent, and when every argument loses its voice, one truth will remain standing above all others, unchallenged and eternal. The Lord reigns, and He alone determines the course of men, nations, and history.

There have been times in my life where I have had to face something I did not want to admit. Conflict is not tied to a place, it is tied to people. Family, extended family, neighbors, business, and church all carry different roles, but they all carry the same reality. At some point, there will be misunderstanding, offense, and hurt. Some relationships I was placed into by God, like family. Others came through my own decisions, like business. And some I believe I was led into. But none of them are free from difficulty.

I have been hurt in ways that stayed with me longer than I expected. Words spoken in a moment that were never taken back. Being misunderstood when I knew my intentions were right. Having my integrity questioned when I had done nothing wrong. Being overlooked after giving my time and effort. Watching people change under pressure. Even silence, when something should have been addressed but was not, has created distance that did not need to be there. Those things do not just pass. They settle if they are not dealt with.

But I have also had to face the other side of it. I have not only been hurt, I have hurt others. There have been times I spoke too quickly and said things that cut deeper than I realized. Times I cared more about being right than understanding the person in front of me. Times I did not listen well, or I assumed instead of asking. There were moments I avoided hard conversations, and that avoidance created space where things broke down. Pressure, especially in business, has made me harder than I should have been at times. I can see now that I have contributed to the very thing I do not like dealing with.

Part of this for me is how I am wired. In construction, they have called me a pit bull. When something is not right, I lock in. I push. I do not back down. That has helped me solve problems and move things forward. I believe that drive was given to me for a reason. But I have also come to see that the same traits that help me can also cause harm if they are not under control. The same strength that helps me stand firm can turn into pride. The same persistence that solves problems can run over people. What was meant to build can end up tearing down.

Another weakness I have seen in myself is this. When I get hurt, I can close a person out like they do not exist. I do not always argue or fight. I just shut the door. I stop engaging. I move on as if they are no longer there. And in my mind, it feels controlled. It feels like I am handling it without conflict. But in reality, it creates a different kind of damage. It leaves things unresolved and creates distance that grows over time. It is not strength, it is avoidance.

I think about my brother Frank and the fifty years he stayed with the same group of people. That kind of life does not happen without conflict. It does not happen without hurt on both sides. What allowed him to stay was learning how to deal with it. He told me something that has stayed with me. If what someone says about you is true, then it shows you something you need to work on. If it is not true, then how you respond will determine what happens next.

That same truth is written in Scripture. “Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing” (1 Peter 3:9). That goes directly against my natural response. My instinct is to push back or shut down, not to respond with something better.

“Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.” James 1:19

Jesus made this even clearer when He spoke about forgiveness. He said to forgive again and again, even when it happens repeatedly. When the disciples heard that, they said, “Lord, increase our faith” (Luke 17:5). They understood that this kind of life requires something beyond natural strength.

That is where this becomes real for me. I do not struggle with strength. I struggle with control. I struggle with knowing when to hold back, when to stay engaged, and when not to shut a person out. I struggle with choosing patience over reaction and forgiveness over pressing the issue. What I have seen clearly is this. If I do not bring my strength under control, it will continue to cause damage, no matter how justified I feel in the moment.

This is not just my struggle, it is a human one. Every person will face it. We will be hurt, and we will hurt others. The question is not whether it happens, but what we do when it does. We can let it harden us, or we can deal with it the right way.

For me, the issue is not strength. The issue is what I do with it. Left on its own, it pushes too hard or shuts people out completely. But when it is brought under control, it changes how I respond, how I speak, and how I handle people. That is where the real work is.

“He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city.” — Proverbs 16:32

That puts it in the right place. The greatest battle is not with other people, it is within ourselves. And that is something every one of us must learn.

Why is this date so important to me? Because it was the day the Lord spoke to my heart and asked me to step into something I was completely unprepared for—to start a business. At the time, I was working in a cabinet shop, just an ordinary man trying to be faithful to what God had been stirring inside of me. There was no roadmap, no business training, no savings, no equipment, no warehouse, and no clear path forward. Yet there was something stronger than all of that—a quiet but unmistakable call from God that would not leave me alone.

So I did what I knew to do, and I went to Him in prayer. I remember laying three specific things before the Lord and speaking plainly from my heart: “Lord, if this is truly from You, then I’m asking You to provide.” I asked that I would be able to leave the man I was working for on good terms, because I knew that honoring him mattered to God. I asked for work—something I could put my hands to so I could begin producing cabinets, because I was not looking for comfort, I was looking for obedience. And I asked that God would direct my steps, that He would show me how to find a place to work and even provide the machinery we would need, because I had no idea how to get there on my own.

At that same time, life was already stretching me in ways that felt overwhelming. Carol was nine months pregnant, and within two weeks our first son Jeremy would be born. Responsibility was not something coming in the future—it had already arrived, and it was standing right in front of me. Yet it was in the middle of that pressure, not outside of it, that God chose to call me forward. Looking back now, I understand something I did not fully grasp then: God was not asking me to have it all figured out, He was asking me to trust Him. As it is written, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths” (Proverbs 3:5–6). I did not have understanding, but I made a decision that day that I would trust.

What followed did not happen all at once, but it happened faithfully. Step by step, God answered every prayer I had placed before Him. I was able to leave on good terms, and that mattered more than I knew at the time. Work began to come, not in abundance at first, but in just enough measure to keep moving forward. Doors opened that I did not know how to open, and provision came not ahead of time, but right on time, again and again. That is when I began to learn a truth that has stayed with me ever since: when God calls you, He does not consult your resources—He supplies them. What He looks for is not whether you are prepared by the world’s standards, but whether you are willing to obey when He speaks. As Scripture reminds us, “My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19).

Over the years, I have watched God do what only He can do. He has brought people into my life at just the right moment, people I never could have arranged or planned for. He has opened doors that I did not even know existed and placed me in situations that required more than I had, only to prove that He was more than enough. He has given wisdom in moments when I had none of my own and carried me through seasons that felt too heavy to bear. There were times when I wanted to quit, times when everything felt uncertain and even hopeless, times when the weight of responsibility pressed harder than I thought I could endure. Yet through it all, there was a steady and unshakable truth that remained: I was not walking alone. Jesus walked with me, and I learned to hold onto the promise that “He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it” (Philippians 1:6), not as a distant hope, but as a daily reality.

What God has done has gone far beyond building a business. He has built a life, one that I could have never imagined when I took that first step of faith. He has blessed me with four incredible children, thirteen grandchildren, and sons and daughters-in-law whom I count as my own. The richness of that blessing cannot be measured in anything this world offers, and it stands as a testimony to the kind of provision only God can give. In all of this, I have come to understand something that the world does not see clearly. What the world calls success has no value to God, because it is built on things that do not last. Titles, money, recognition—these may carry weight among men, but they do not move the heart of God. What He blesses, however, carries a weight and a substance that cannot be explained, measured, or taken away. As Jesus said, “What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” (Mark 8:36).

Scripture also says, “The blessing of the Lord makes one rich, and He adds no sorrow with it” (Proverbs 10:22), and I have come to know that this kind of richness is not found in what you accumulate, but in what God establishes. There is a wisdom that does not come from education, a favor that cannot be earned, and a life that cannot be explained apart from the hand of God working quietly, faithfully, and powerfully over time. It is almost fitting that it all began on April 1st—April Fool’s Day—because to the world, what I did likely looked foolish. There was no plan, no money, no experience, only a decision to trust what God had said. Yet I have learned that what appears to be foolishness to men is often obedience before God, for “the foolishness of God is wiser than men” (1 Corinthians 1:25).

There is a quote that has stayed with me through the years, one that continues to prove true: “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.” That is what I did on April 1, 1977, and it is what I continue to do. Because what I have learned is that trusting God is not a single decision made once, but a life that is lived daily, step by step, often without full understanding, but never without His presence. The same God who spoke then is still speaking now, still leading, still refining, still proving that His ways are higher than ours. What began as a step of faith has become a walk that has not ended, and I have come to see that God never calls a man to arrive—He calls him to follow. And as long as He leads, there will always be more to trust, more to learn, and more of His faithfulness yet to be revealed.

Lord, I come to You this morning because my heart is heavy with all that is going on in the world, and especially in America. I do not understand how a country built upon You, that received Your blessing and Your protection, could drift this far from the truth. It grieves me to see what is happening. Like Lot, whose righteous soul was troubled by what he saw around him, I feel that same weight within me. It is not that I lack faith, but I am trying to understand what You are doing in this time and in this place. And I realize that if they can reject the very foundation that was built on You, then I know they will have no respect for me either. So I come to You, not because I am without direction, but because I want understanding. I want to see what You see and understand what You are allowing.

And in that quiet place, where that question rested before Him, the Lord responded to me and said, “I see you. I see what you see, and I understand why it grieves you. The weight you feel is not misplaced, because your heart is aligned with Me, and what troubles you reflects what is being revealed in the world. The turning away from truth, the rejection of what was once established, and the hardness of heart you are witnessing are not hidden from Me, nor are they unexpected. Do not think that I am surprised by these things, because I spoke of them long before you saw them. I told you there would be a falling away, that truth would be rejected, and that what is right would be called wrong. What you are witnessing is not the loss of My control, but the revealing of the condition of man when he chooses to turn from Me. I have seen nations rise in blessing when they walk with Me, and I have seen them drift when they choose their own way. What was once established can be abandoned, and what was once honored can be rejected, but none of this moves Me from My throne. I made the earth by My power, and I still hold it together by My wisdom. What feels like disorder to you is not outside of My authority. I stretched out the heavens by My understanding and placed every star where it belongs. I have not lost one of them, and I have not lost what is happening on the earth either. What you are seeing is part of a greater unfolding, where what is hidden in the heart of man is being brought into the open, and where the separation between truth and deception is becoming clear.

“Even in this, I have not turned away from those who seek Me. I have seen your heart, and I have heard your prayers—not only for yourself, but for your nation, for truth, and for what is right. Nothing you have brought to Me has been ignored. Even when it seemed quiet, I was not absent. You see the condition of a nation, but I see every heart within it, and I am still calling, still drawing, still working in ways you cannot fully see. You are not carrying this alone, and you were never meant to carry it as if it depends on you.

“So do not let your heart become unsettled as though something unexpected is happening. I told you these things so that when they came, you would not be shaken. Stay close to Me in the middle of what you see, and do not carry what belongs to Me to carry, but bring it to Me and trust Me with it. I am not surprised by what is happening, I am not absent from it, and I am not finished. Nations may drift, truth may be rejected, and the world may turn from what was once established, but I do not move. My truth has not changed. My authority has not weakened, and My purposes are still unfolding exactly as I have spoken. So, while you watch what is happening, do not let your heart be pulled with it, but remain in Me, steady and unmoved, knowing with certainty that I am still on the throne, and I always will be—and I see you.”

There have been times in my life where I have had to face something I did not want to admit. Conflict is not tied to a place; it is tied to people. Family, extended family, neighbors, business, and church all carry different roles, but they all carry the same reality. At some point, there will be misunderstanding, offense, and hurt. Some relationships I was placed into by God, like family. Others came through my own decisions, like business. And some I believe I was led into. But none of them are free from difficulty.

I have been hurt in ways that stayed with me longer than I expected. Words spoken in a moment that were never taken back. Being misunderstood when I knew my intentions were right. Having my integrity questioned when I had done nothing wrong. Being overlooked after giving my time and effort. Watching people change under pressure. Even silence, when something should have been addressed but was not, has created distance that did not need to be there. Those things do not just pass. They settle if they are not dealt with.

But I have also had to face the other side of it. I have not only been hurt, I have hurt others. There have been times I spoke too quickly and said things that cut deeper than I realized. Times I cared more about being right than understanding the person in front of me. Times I did not listen well, or I assumed instead of asking. There were moments I avoided hard conversations, and that avoidance created space where things broke down. Pressure, especially in business, has made me harder than I should have been at times. I can see now that I have contributed to the very thing I do not like dealing with.

Part of this for me is how I am wired. In construction, they have called me a pit bull. When something is not right, I lock in. I push. I do not back down. That has helped me solve problems and move things forward. I believe that drive was given to me for a reason. But I have also come to see that the same traits that help me can also cause harm if they are not under control. The same strength that helps me stand firm can turn into pride. The same persistence that solves problems can run over people. What was meant to build can end up tearing down.

Another weakness I have seen in myself is this. When I get hurt, I can close a person out like they do not exist. I do not always argue or fight. I just shut the door. I stop engaging. I move on as if they are no longer there. And in my mind, it feels controlled. It feels like I am handling it without conflict. But in reality, it creates a different kind of damage. It leaves things unresolved and creates distance that grows over time. It is not strength, it is avoidance.

I think about my brother Frank and the fifty years he stayed with the same group of people. That kind of life does not happen without conflict. It does not happen without hurt on both sides. What allowed him to stay was learning how to deal with it. He told me something that has stayed with me. If what someone says about you is true, then it shows you something you need to work on. If it is not true, then how you respond will determine what happens next.

That same truth is written in Scripture. “Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing” (1 Peter 3:9). That goes directly against my natural response. My instinct is to push back or shut down, not to respond with something better.

“Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.” James 1:19

Jesus made this even clearer when He spoke about forgiveness. He said to forgive again and again, even when it happens repeatedly. When the disciples heard that, they said, “Lord, increase our faith” (Luke 17:5). They understood that this kind of life requires something beyond natural strength.

That is where this becomes real for me. I do not struggle with strength. I struggle with control. I struggle with knowing when to hold back, when to stay engaged, and when not to shut a person out. I struggle with choosing patience over reaction and forgiveness over pressing the issue. What I have seen clearly is this. If I do not bring my strength under control, it will continue to cause damage, no matter how justified I feel in the moment.

This is not just my struggle, it is a human one. Every person will face it. We will be hurt, and we will hurt others. The question is not whether it happens, but what we do when it does. We can let it harden us, or we can deal with it the right way.

For me, the issue is not strength. The issue is what I do with it. Left on its own, it pushes too hard or shuts people out completely. But when it is brought under control, it changes how I respond, how I speak, and how I handle people. That is where the real work is.

“He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city.” — Proverbs 16:32

That puts it in the right place. The greatest battle is not with other people, it is within ourselves. And that is something every one of us must learn.

When you watch what is happening in Israel right now, and you see the tension rising not just there but across the nations, it becomes clear that something deeper is unfolding. Alliances are shifting, conflicts are increasing, and what once felt distant now feels close. The world is changing in a way that is hard to ignore. Yet this should not catch us off guard, because God’s Word has already spoken about a time when Jerusalem would stand at the center of global attention and when nations would be troubled. Jesus warned that there would be wars and rumors of wars, not as the end itself, but as the beginning of a larger unfolding. What we are witnessing is not random—it is a reminder that God’s Word is true and that history is moving in the direction He has already declared.

Because of this, the question is not simply what is happening in the world, but how we are meant to respond to it. While the world looks for answers in power, politics, and control, Scripture points us somewhere else. It tells us that in the days ahead, wisdom will be more valuable than gold. This wisdom is not human understanding, but seeing life from God’s perspective and choosing to walk in His ways. It is what allows a person to remain steady when everything around them feels uncertain, and to discern truth when confusion is everywhere.

And this wisdom is not hidden or reserved for a few—it is given by God to those who seek Him. It begins with a heart that turns toward Him, that humbles itself and recognizes its need. It grows when a person asks God for it, spends time in His Word, and chooses to follow what He says even when it is difficult. Wisdom is formed in relationship with Him, through prayer, through listening, and through a willingness to be led instead of relying on our own understanding. This is why, even as the world grows more unstable, we are not called to fear, but to draw closer—because the closer we are to Him, the clearer we will see.

And as we come to understand this, we begin to see that our place in these times is not passive. Our prayers are not small or insignificant. They rise before God like incense, a pleasing fragrance around His throne. Every fear we carry, every concern we feel, is already known to Him. He watches over those who love Him, those who serve Him, and those who take refuge in Him, and in Him there is no condemnation. Even as the world shifts, His attention does not move away from His people, and His care remains constant.

Yet as the tension among nations continues, the world will increasingly long for stability and peace. Scripture tells us that there will come a time when people believe that peace has finally been secured. It will appear convincing, and it will bring a sense of relief to many who are weary of conflict. But the Bible also warns that what appears to be peace can be deceptive and short-lived. Rather than lasting security, it will give way to greater instability, as the conditions of the world continue to unfold according to what has already been written.

In that unfolding, Scripture describes increasing hardship across the earth. There will be times marked by conflict, economic strain, scarcity, famine, and disease. Basic necessities will become harder to obtain, and the pressures of life will weigh heavily on many. At the same time, as darkness increases, so will the resistance toward God and toward those who belong to Him. What we are beginning to see now in small ways will grow more visible, revealing the condition of the human heart apart from God.

As these things take place, the Bible also points to the earth itself being affected. There will be earthquakes and disturbances that remind us how fragile what we rely on truly is. There will be signs in the heavens and changes in the natural world that unsettle what once seemed permanent. Scripture does not present all of these events as happening at once, but together they form a picture of a world being shaken—both physically and spiritually—as it moves toward a moment God has already appointed.

But in the middle of all of this, the purpose of these words is not to produce fear. They are meant to awaken us, to prepare us, and to remind us of what is coming next. All of these things point to one unchanging truth: Jesus is coming. While the world looks at these events and does not understand them, responding with fear or confusion, those who know God are given clarity. If the world truly understood, it would turn from evil and seek Him, choosing the wisdom found in His Word over the temporary solutions it now depends on.

For those who do believe, this is not a time to panic, but a time to draw closer. It is a time to trust more deeply, to stand more firmly, and to remain anchored in God’s truth. Even in the midst of uncertainty, there is a reason to rejoice—not because of what is happening in the world, but because of what it means. These things remind us that God is faithful to His Word and that His promises are being fulfilled.

So do not fear what is coming. Seek Him, stay near to Him, and ask Him for the wisdom that only He can give. Trust God, trust His Word, and remain rooted in Him. While the world sees chaos, we see purpose. While the world feels uncertainty, we are given understanding. And while the world searches for answers, we hold on to the truth that our redemption is drawing near.

In March 2026, NBA guard Jaden Ivey was released by the Chicago Bulls after refusing to publicly support Pride initiatives, choosing instead to stand on his Christian convictions. The organization called it “conduct detrimental,” but the meaning was unmistakable—he didn’t align. In today’s culture, that is often the line you are not allowed to cross.

The game is no longer just played on the court. It is played in public statements, social expectations, and cultural pressure. Free speech is praised as a pillar of freedom, yet it often feels conditional—welcomed when it agrees, resisted when it does not. It remains protected in law, but costly in reality. And that is where its true test begins.

Somewhere before the headlines, there was a quiet decision. Keep everything he had worked for, or stand for what he believed. That moment reveals the difference between convenience and conviction. Anyone can speak when it costs nothing, but when truth threatens your position, your future, and your security, that is when belief becomes real.

Scripture cuts straight to it: “What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” (Mark 8:36). And history reinforces it, as Martin Luther King Jr. said, “The time is always right to do what is right.” Truth does not shift with culture, and it does not bend under pressure. It stands, waiting for someone willing to stand with it.

He lost a roster spot, but that is not the real loss. The real loss is when a man trades conviction for acceptance and keeps everything except what matters most. Platforms fade, applause disappears, and public opinion moves on, but what remains is far deeper than any moment of recognition.

And now the question is no longer about him—it is about you.

When the pressure comes, when the cost is real, when everything is on the line… will you stand… or will you bow?