Category: Over The Hump

Have you ever witnessed a “mic drop” moment? Jesus had many of them. Here is one.

For 38 years, the lame man sat by the pool of Bethesda, watching, waiting, and hoping. Thirty-eight years of seeing others step into the water while he remained confined to his mat.

Thirty-eight years of disappointment rehearsed into belief: If only I could get into the pool, then I would be healed. The problem, he thought, was access. The solution, he believed, was the water.

However, Jesus saw something deeper.

When Jesus asked him, “Do you want to get well?” it was not because Jesus lacked compassion. It was because 38 years of long-term brokenness can quietly reshape our expectations. After decades of pain, the man no longer imagined wholeness. He only imagined better odds. His answer revealed where his faith had settled, not in God’s power, but in a process. Not in a Person, but in a place. And yet, Jesus did not correct him with a sermon. He healed him with a word.

“Stand up. Pick up your mat. Walk.”

No water stirred. No ritual followed. No assistance arrived. The healing did not come from the pool he had trusted for nearly four decades. It came from the voice standing right in front of him. In an instant, muscles strengthened, bones aligned, and hope was restored. What 38 years could not fix, Jesus resolved in a moment.

Then comes one of the most striking “mic drop” moments of the story: Jesus turned around and walked away.

Wait. What?

Multitudes had gathered, waiting and hoping Jesus would heal them, knowing death was likely imminent if He did not. Yet Jesus healed this one man, turned around, and walked away.

I can only imagine the anger, confusion, frustration, and disappointment that countless people felt in that moment. Why only that one man? Why not me?

Listen closely. Jesus leads under priority. He never leads under pressure. The same holds true for your life today. Jesus does not need optimal conditions to work. He does not need you to be first in line, strong enough to move, or articulate enough to explain your pain. He only asks that you listen when He speaks and respond in obedience when He asks, even when it feels impossible.

The man stood up before he had proof. He carried the mat that once carried him. His obedience became the evidence of his healing.

Jesus still walks into crowded places today. He still sees individuals overlooked by systems and worn down by waiting. And He still speaks life with authority, power, and compassion.

The question is not whether Jesus can heal what you are currently going through, but whether you are willing to release the false sources you have trusted in and believe that Jesus alone is all you need.

Love God. Love People. Live Sent.

Indiana University Head Football Coach Curt Cignetti broke into coaching in 1983, beginning his college career as a graduate assistant at the University of Pittsburgh. As a GA, his duties included long “grunt work” hours for minimal pay. Then, in 2011, Coach Cignetti landed his first head coaching job at the Division II level at Indiana University of Pennsylvania (IUP)—and 13 years later, he did it again at the Division I level with Indiana University in 2024.

Coach Cignetti was replanted from place to place over the past 43 years of his football coaching career, impacting the lives of countless coaches and athletes—many of them at Indiana University—where he won his first Division I Football National Championship as head coach last Monday night in Miami.

In a similar way, imagine the Apostle Paul, shackled in a Roman prison, his freedom stripped away and his missionary journeys halted. The man who once blazed trails across the ancient world—preaching the resurrection of Christ to kings and commoners alike—was now confined to a prison cell. It could have been the end of his story, a tragic fade into obscurity.

But Paul saw beyond the bars. He declared that his imprisonment wasn’t a setback, but a divine setup. Guards heard the Gospel, fellow believers were emboldened, and the message of Jesus spread like wildfire throughout the empire, impacting countless lives. What the enemy meant for silence, God orchestrated for amplification.

Now fast-forward to your life. Perhaps you’re staring at an unexpected pink slip from your employer or packing boxes for a move you never planned. Maybe a relationship has shattered, or a dream has derailed, leaving you uprooted and asking, “Why, God? What have I done wrong?”

Here’s the challenge: stop viewing these divine detours as punishment. God isn’t a cosmic disciplinarian wielding a whip; He’s the Master Storyteller, weaving your experiences into a tapestry that glorifies His name. He may replant you in a new city, a different workplace, or an unfamiliar role—not to sideline you, but to position you where the Good News can flourish through your living testimony.

Think about it. That new job might place you among colleagues desperate for hope, where your quiet faith becomes a beacon in their darkness. That relocation could land you in a community ripe for revival, where your story of God’s faithfulness ignites conversations about Christ. Paul didn’t choose his chains, but he surrendered to the One who did—and in that surrender, the Gospel advanced.

Here’s the encouragement: your life is no accident. God is writing your story with eternal ink, plot twists included. Every “detour” is a deliberate path to purpose. Romans 8:28 reminds us, “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose.”

Listen closely—this is where it gets challenging: don’t steal God’s pen. Don’t grasp for control, scribbling your own endings, clinging to the familiar, resisting the replanting, or demanding explanations before you obey. “I’ll follow You, God—but only if it makes sense to me.” Paul didn’t do that. He trusted the Author, even in the dungeon. And so should you.

If you’re in a season of transition today, lean into it. Share your faith boldly in your new environment. Let your resilience preach louder than words. God isn’t done with you—in fact, He’s just turning the page, beginning a new chapter where His glory shines brighter through your yielded heart.

Love God. Love People. Live Sent.

There are moments in life when we feel the weight of our own brokenness. Have you ever been there? I certainly have. We carry wounds from our past, failures that haunt us, and weaknesses that make us feel “spiritually crippled.” Like Mephibosheth hiding in an empty, barren place, we often retreat to our cave of shame—convinced that God could never want someone like us, or even use someone like us, because of our past failures and mistakes.

In a similar way, that is the story of Mephibosheth. He was the son of Jonathan and the grandson of King Saul. When he was a small child, news came that Saul and Jonathan had been killed in battle. His caregiver tried to flee with him, but in the rush she dropped him, and he became “permanently crippled in both feet” (2 Samuel 4:4).

Many years later, when David became king, he remembered his covenant with his best friend, Jonathan. He sought out and found Mephibosheth living in obscurity and fear, expecting hostility because he was a descendant of the former king.

Instead, David brought Mephibosheth into his household and gave him a permanent place at the king’s table—treating him like one of his own sons (2 Samuel 9).

Listen closely: Mephibosheth’s story is more than a historical account—it’s a living picture of the gospel. It’s your story. It’s my story. Just as Mephibosheth was dropped, wounded, and left unable to help himself, all of humanity has been left wounded, scared, and crippled by sin. You carry spiritual brokenness you did not choose, and you may often hide in fear, shame, or a sense of unworthiness.

Yet just as King David sought out Mephibosheth—not because he had anything to offer, not because he had earned favor, but simply because of a covenant of love—

In the same way, God seeks you. Not because you are strong, but because He is faithful. Not because you are worthy, but because of the covenant sealed by the blood of Jesus.

Listen—God is not waiting for you to be perfect before welcoming you to His banquet table. He is not waiting for you to have your life all cleaned up. Your scars, weaknesses, and failures don’t push Him away; they simply magnify the beauty of His grace and mercy.

Come to Jesus just as you are. He loves you unconditionally—and He has a chair reserved just for you at the King’s table.

Love God. Love People. Live Sent.

We are nearly two weeks into 2026. Millions of people began the New Year with these words:
“This is my year!” – uttered with laser-focused excitement and determination.

Gym memberships will skyrocket. Fruits and vegetables will sell out. Journals will be filled with promises to finally become that person—organized, disciplined, healthy, and kale-loving.
By February? Not so much.

The gym grows quiet. The kale salads dry up. The donuts are back. And the only thing organized is the Amazon queue.

The New Year stirs something hopeful in all of us, but we’re quickly reminded that authentic transformation is more challenging than a checklist.

That’s not failure—it’s reality.

As 2026 begins, I encourage you to set goals—but hold them loosely. Instead of striving in your own strength, invite God—the One who created you—into the process. Let your deepest resolution be dependence, not performance.

When our focus shifts from what we can accomplish to who we are becoming in Christ, everything changes. Think progress, not perfection.

The apostle Paul writes:

“But I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead. I keep pressing on.”

Don’t miss these words: Focus. Forgetting. Looking forward. Pressing on.

Paul wasn’t chasing self-improvement; he was pursuing Christ. He didn’t dwell on past mistakes, guilt, failures—or even successes. His eyes were fixed forward—locked in on Jesus. On growth. On grace. On mercy. On obedience. On progress. On becoming more like Christ.

That kind of focus frees us from shame and pride—and anchors us in purpose.

Listen closely: As 2026 begins, release the pressure to perfect yourself. Resolve instead to make progress by relying on Jesus. Ask Him to shape your heart, deepen your love, and align your steps with His will—not your own.

He is writing your story every day, and He never takes a day off.

True transformation isn’t found on the field or court of competition, in the gym, the calendar, the planner, the salad bar, or the bank account.

True transformation is found in a life surrendered to Jesus Christ—every day.

Blessings in 2026.

Love God. Love People. Live Sent.

A couple weeks ago, my son Zach experienced his college graduation at Kennesaw State University. It was an exciting moment watching him walk into the convocation center to the “Pomp and Circumstance” hymn and then walking across the stage to receive his graduation diploma, each step representing years of hard work, discipline, sacrifice, growth, and determination.

Graduation day did not come easily. However, when it arrived, it was filled with anticipation, celebration, excitement, and deep gratitude. It marked not an ending, but a new beginning.

Psalm 116:15 invites us to see life and death through a very similar lens. At first glance, the verse appears heavy:

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful servants.”

Death does not feel precious to those who are left behind. It brings loss, grief, separation, and unanswered questions. However, Scripture gently pulls back the curtains of heaven and allows us to glimpse God’s perspective, one shaped not by sorrow, but by completion, honor, and unconditional love.

For the servant of God, death is not defeat. It is a “Holy Graduation Day.”

Just as Zach’s college graduation marked the completion of years of preparation, so the death of God’s faithful servants marks the completion of a life lived in trust, surrender, obedience, and perseverance. Every prayer whispered, every tear shed, every burden carried, every disciple made, and every act of faithfulness, seen or unseen, comes to its full reward. Heaven celebrates what earth now releases.

God calls this moment “Precious.” Not rushed. Not panicked. Not dismissed. Not overlooked. But precious.

Why? Because it represents the fulfillment of God’s work in the life of His child. The believer fought the good fight. The believer finished the race. The believer kept the faith. Lessons have been learned. Trials have shaped the soul. And now, God the Father welcomes His son or daughter home.

Like a proud parent watching a child receive their graduation diploma, our Heavenly Father delights in that final “Holy Graduation Day” into His presence. He is not indifferent to the passing of His saints. He treasures it. Their arrival in heaven is marked by perfect love, joy, honor, and eternal reward.

For those of us still on the journey, this truth brings comfort and hope. We grieve, yes, but not without hope and assurance. Graduation days are emotional because they are significant. They matter. And so does the moment when a [servant of God] steps from this life into eternity.

Listen closely. One day, every servant of God will experience their own “Holy Graduation Day.” If that describes you, your life of faith will be complete. Your struggles in this world will give way to glory. And the Lord Himself will declare your moment precious.

However, until that day, remain faithful, trusting, serving, locking eyes with Jesus every day, and walking toward Him in obedience, knowing that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. And when your final day comes, it will not be marked by fear, but by fulfillment. Why?

Because “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful servants.”

Love God. Love people. Live sent.

Silence can feel unsettling. When prayers seem unanswered and heaven appears quiet, we often assume God is distant or displeased. Have you ever been there? I certainly have. Yet Scripture reveals a deeper truth: God’s silence is not His absence. Often, it is His preparation.

Between the final words of the Old Testament book of Malachi and the opening of Matthew chapter 1 in the New Testament lies a span of 400 years of recorded silence. No new prophetic books. No fresh “Thus says the Lord.” Generations were born, lived, and died without hearing a single new word from God. To many, it must have felt like abandonment.

But God was not idle.

During those silent centuries, God was arranging history with precision. Empires rose and fell. The Greek language spread across the world, creating a common tongue for the gospel. Roman roads were built, allowing the message of Christ to travel quickly. Though heaven seemed quiet, God was working everywhere.

Then, in God’s perfect timing, the silence was broken.

An angel spoke to Zechariah. Another appeared to Mary. And ultimately, God did not merely send a message—He sent His Son.

“But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth His Son.”

The silence gave way, and “the Word (Jesus) became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14).

Listen closely: silence is often God’s soil. In your waiting, He is forming what you cannot yet see.

I’m not sure what you’re going through or what you’re enduring. However, this is what I do know: when God feels silent in your life—when prayers linger unanswered, when direction seems unclear—

remember the space between Malachi and Matthew. The 400 years of silence were not wasted. They were sacred. And they were necessary.

God’s silence is often an invitation:
• To trust without explanations.
• To grow without applause.
• To wait without control.

And when God speaks again, it will be clear, direct, purposeful, and right on time.

Have a Happy New Year!

Love God. Love people. Live sent.

Coming out of high school as a “2-star recruit,” QB Fernando Mendoza was overlooked and lightly recruited. While others chased attention and accolades, Mendoza chased improvement. He arrived on the UC Berkeley campus without definite guarantees, carrying more doubt from outsiders than offers from coaches. Practices were hard, opportunities were scarce, and setbacks were frequent—however, he never quit and continued to improve.

Each season, Mendoza grew. He studied film when no one was watching, embraced competition, and responded to adversity with patience instead of frustration. When he transferred to Indiana University, he didn’t just seize the opportunity—he transformed it. Calm, precise, and unshaken, he led with a poise that reflected years of being tested.

By the time Fernando Mendoza lifted the “2025 Heisman Trophy” last Saturday night, his journey had become a testament to resilience.

“Pressed, not crushed.
Perplexed, not in despair.
Hunted, not abandoned.
Knocked down, not destroyed.”

Stars don’t define destiny. Perseverance outlasts doubt, and being “struck down” is never the same as being “defeated.” Mendoza’s rise proved that belief, self-discipline, grit, and faith in the process can carry an underdog all the way to the pinnacle of college football.

Listen closely: Hardship is a part of life—you can count on it—but defeat doesn’t have to be. You will face pressure, confusion, opposition, and even moments when you feel knocked down; however, none of those struggles have the final word. You may bend, but you’re not broken. You may question, but you’re not hopeless.

Never allow criticism or setbacks to define who you are. Even when others doubt you or attempt to limit you with labels, you are not abandoned or defeated. Why? Because God always has the final word. Strength is found in perseverance—knowing that being “struck down” is not the same as being “destroyed.”

The pain of discipline is always less than the pain of regret. That is the importance of resilience.

Love God. Love people. Live sent.

As adults, we experience different temptations. Like a heat-seeking missile, they come at us all day and every day. This is why the need for self-control is just as strong. Deep inside, we have a desire to obey God. Self-control keeps us from putting personal purchases on the company’s expense account. It applies the brakes when fleshly desires drive us to the wrong environments. It bites our tongue when we are just about to make a sarcastic comment. It gets us out of bed on time in the morning and prods us to press on when hardships pressure us to quit.

In fact, all nine fruits of the Spirit found in Galatians 5:22-23 need self-control to function. Maybe that is the reason self-control is the final virtue; it fortifies the rest. Love may be the heart of the virtues, but self-control is the muscle.

Let’s lean in and take a closer look at this action-oriented fruit of the Spirit that helps us obey God and keeps our hand out of the cookie jar.

1) Self-Control in Our Morals

Moral self-control is not gritting our teeth and trying harder. It is learning to let the Holy Spirit strengthen our will and reshape our desires. Holiness becomes possible not because we are strong, but because He is.

Self-control in our morals looks like:

• Choosing purity when temptation whispers.
• Upholding integrity when compromise seems easier.
• Walking in obedience even when no one else sees.

2) Self-Control in Our Motives

Motives are the hidden engine of our actions. We can say and do the right things with motives rooted in pride, fear, or self-gain. The Holy Spirit invites us to surrender even the unseen places of our heart to Him.

Self-control in our motives means pausing long enough to ask:

• Why am I doing this?
• Is this for God’s glory or my own?
• Would I do this if no one ever noticed?

3) Self-Control in Our Mouth

Words can heal or wound, build up or tear down. Our tongue is often the hardest part of us to surrender, but it is also the clearest evidence of the Holy Spirit’s work.

Spirit-led self-control in our speech means:

• Pausing before responding.
• Refusing to participate in gossip.
• Speaking truth in love, not in harshness.
• Choosing silence when our mouth wants the last word.

Listen closely: Self-control is not a fruit we produce by self-effort; it is a fruit the Holy Spirit grows in us as we yield our will to God’s will. Every time we pause, pray, and choose obedience, we make room for Christ’s character to shine through us.

This week, may the Spirit of God cultivate in you a self-control that reflects Jesus: steady, humble, surrendered, and powerful in love.

Love God. Love people. Live sent.

One of my closest friends in professional baseball is longtime Major League scout Kirk Fredrickkson with the Boston Red Sox. Kirk has signed many MLB players in his scouting career and was recently selected by his peers as the “2025 Georgia Scouts Association Scout of the Year.”

For me, I genuinely delight in getting to honor and recognize my friend Kirk — not only as a tremendous scout, but as a humble man who models the character and conduct of Christ in his life. It brings me great joy to honor my friend and competitor.

In a world obsessed with self, self-promotion, self-importance, and self-achievement, it’s easy to forget the quiet beauty of honoring others. We live in a culture that rewards those who climb higher, self-promote, speak louder, and shine brighter. However, the kingdom of God flips that on its head. Instead of exalting ourselves, we are called to “delight” in honoring others.

So what is “honor”?

To honor someone means to see them the way God sees them, to recognize their worth, their divine design, and their place in God’s story. It’s not flattery, selfish motives, or empty praise. True honor flows from humility. It is the willingness to celebrate the victories and successes of others as if they were our own, to listen before we speak, to serve before we seek recognition, and to give dignity where the world offers jealousy and disregard.

When Paul tells us to “take delight in honoring each other,” he is inviting us into joy. There is something life-giving about honoring others — not out of duty, but out of genuine delight. Imagine what would happen in our world if believers became known as people who delight in honoring others: coworkers, spouses, children, strangers, even those who oppose us. The light of Christ would break through the evil in our culture.

Listen closely: In a world consumed with self-promotion and personal gain, God calls us to a higher calling, to “delight” in honoring others. It is more than polite words; it is the posture of your heart that celebrates others, lifts them up, and reflects the servant heart of Jesus. When you choose to honor those around you, not out of duty but with joy, you push back against a self-centered culture and make God’s love visible for all to see.

Delight in honoring someone today.

Love God. Love people. Live sent.

Earlier this year while traveling, I inadvertently hit a pothole while driving on the interstate around Atlanta. Within a day or two, I noticed my vehicle begin pulling sharply to the left. Unfortunately, the front end of my vehicle was out of alignment. Ignoring the problem would have only exacerbated the issue and affected the journey to my final destination.

When God led Israel out of Egypt, the Promised Land was not far away. An estimated 11 to 14 day journey took 40 long years.

Why? How? The distance was short, but their heart condition was far from ready. God was not simply taking them to a place; he was shaping them into a people. The wilderness delay was not about miles; it was about mindset. Not about geography; it was about spiritual maturity.

So why did a two week journey take 40 years?

1) Disobedience Toward God

God gave clear instructions for their good; Israel continually chose their own way. Disobedience always leads away from destiny, never toward it. Their unwillingness to obey created a cycle of wandering that God never intended.

Lesson: Obedience is not punishment; it is protection.
Every act of obedience moves us one step closer to God’s best. Every act of disobedience only detours us farther into wilderness seasons.

2) Worshipping False Idols

From the golden calf to adopting pagan practices, Israel often traded the living God for lifeless substitutes. Idolatry isn’t just bowing to statues; it’s putting anything above God.

Lesson: Idols still exist today—often not made of gold but shaped like ambition, relationships, pride, addiction, money, or material possessions. Anything we place our trust in more than God becomes the idol that delays our promise.

3) Lack of Faith in God

Israel heard the promises of God, but fear drowned out their faith. Standing on the edge of Canaan, the spies saw giants instead of God’s greatness. They believed the problem more than the promise. God would not part the waters of the Jordan River until their feet stepped into the water (Joshua 3:13).

Lesson: Faith is not believing God “can,” but believing God “will,” even when circumstances contradict what we see. Unbelief builds walls where God is opening doors. God rarely acts until you first step out in faith. Make the step.

Listen closely: Disobedience carries consequences. A journey that should have taken two weeks took decades because hearts were not aligned with God. Yet God remained faithful, patient, and present—guiding, providing, and shaping his people.

Lean into the following takeaways for your life. Whatever you do, prioritize:

• Faith over fear

• Obedience over stubbornness

• Worshipping God over idols

Your Promised Land is not only a place; it’s the posture of your heart. Therefore, ruthlessly guard your heart. God will bless and honor your obedience. He stands ready to lead you to your Promised Land if you will trust him fully, follow him humbly, and worship him wholeheartedly.

Love God. Love people. Live sent.