Good enough?

 

 “No One Is Good but God”

Mark 10:18 (NASB1995): “Why do you call Me good? No one is good except God alone.”

Mark tells us about a young man who eagerly approached Jesus, asking what he must do to inherit eternal life. He knelt before Him with respect and sincerity. But we can infer that he hadn’t heard Jesus say, just a few verses earlier, that anyone who does not receive the kingdom of God like a child—joyfully, innocently, and with simple faith—will never enter it (v.15). This young man believed the kingdom was something to be earned or purchased.

How many of us still think that way today? That being a “good person,” getting baptized, or being confirmed into a religious tradition will earn us a place in heaven?

In our human understanding, good can mean many things. We say someone is good at sports, good at music, or simply that they behave well. But Jesus challenges this understanding: “No one is good except God alone.”

God is not partial—He holds the same standard for everyone:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind... You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:37, 39)

If you can do that perfectly, you can earn eternal life.

But wait a minute—you, like the young man, might be thinking: How can I possibly do that? You don’t know my neighbors. They let their dogs mess in my yard. They blast their music. They sin differently than I do. They’re unlovable!

And yet… God’s love covers even that.

The truth is you and I are unloveable too. We’ve all fallen short of God’s perfect standard. Thankfully, He doesn’t keep a running tally of our sins or favor those who attend church more often or donate more generously. No—even one sin is enough to separate us from God for eternity.

You might ask, “How can a loving God do that?”
But we must remember: sin was never God’s idea. It was humanity’s attempt to be like God, on our own terms. Since Adam and Eve, people have tried and failed to reach God’s standard.

The good news is that although we deserve judgment, God offers mercy through Jesus Christ. He shows mercy by not punishing us for our sin, and He shows grace by giving us salvation—something we could never earn.

So is it “be good and be saved”? No.
It’s even simpler than that.

It’s accepting a free, no-strings-attached gift: salvation through faith in Jesus Christ. You don’t need to be baptized, attend church regularly, or give money to receive it. You simply believe and trust in what Jesus has already done—that He died, conquered death, and rose again to bring salvation to a broken world.

You cannot earn grace. You cannot “do good works” to be saved.

“By grace you have been saved through faith; and that [faith] not of yourselves, it is the gift of God.” (Ephesians 2:8)

You may be thinking, “You don’t know what I’ve done—the things I still do. I’m not ready to give up the things God says are wrong.” But God already knows. He created you. He sees you. He loves you anyway.

“But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

Even knowing everything you would do, He still went to the cross. He still offers the gift.

“Now is the acceptable time, now is the day of salvation.” (2 Corinthians 6:2)

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Prayer

Heavenly Father,
I praise You for Your mercy and grace toward me.
Thank You for the gift of salvation.
Please work in the hearts of those who don’t yet know You.
Ease their fears, answer their questions, and reveal Your love and goodness—for You alone are good.

Lord, Your return is near. Our time is short.
Remind us that today is indeed the acceptable day.

In Christ alone,
Amen.

Pride

A Christian Reflection on Pride

“For all that is in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—is not of the Father but is of the world.” — 1 John 2:16 KJV

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Worldwide, June is Pride Month. We see colorful banners and clothing all around us. It began as a commemoration of the 1969 Stonewall Riots in New York City, a pivotal moment in the LGBTQ+ rights movement.

While society celebrates Pride in various ways, Christians are called to consider how we respond—not with hostility or anger, but through the lens of Scripture. Let's reflect on the values of dignity, visibility, and self-affirmation from a Biblical perspective.

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Dignity: Image-Bearers

All people are created in the image of God (Gen. 1:27). All have the dignity afforded God's crowning creation.

"For thou (God) has made him (humanity) a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour."
— Psalm 8:5, KJV

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Visibility: God Sees Us

God sees those who are overlooked—the invisible, the marginalized, and the outcast (Gen 16:13). Jesus died for all people.

"For God so loved the world…"
— John 3:16

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Self-Affirmation: A New Identity in Christ

In Scripture, our sense of self-worth is not rooted in self-affirmation, but in our identity in Christ.

"I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made."
— Psalm 139:14, ESV

Paul echoes this:

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."
— 2 Corinthians 5:17, ESV

True affirmation comes not from within, but from who we are in Christ Jesus.

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Pride: A Biblical Warning

The concept of pride is easier to recognize than to define. Often, we detect it in others long before we see it in ourselves. One writer defines pride as:

"Undue confidence in and attention to our skills, abilities, state, possessions, position, or accomplishments."

Synonyms include arrogance, presumption, conceit, boasting, and high-mindedness. Pride becomes rebellion when it attributes to self the glory and honor that is due God alone.

Scripture consistently warns against the kind of pride associated with arrogance and a lack of humility:

"Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall."
— Proverbs 16:18 ESV

"A man's pride will bring him low, but a humble spirit will bring honor."
— Proverbs 29:23 NASB

Jesus also lists pride among the evils that come from the human heart:

"...evil thoughts, fornications, thefts...slander, pride, and foolishness..."
— Mark 7:21–22 NASB

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False Humility and True Strength

False humility is equally dangerous. Boasting in Christ—not ourselves—is the proper Christian mindset.

Paul writes that he can do all things through Christ who strengthens him. But in context, he refers to enduring suffering, hunger, and imprisonment (Phil. 4:10–14).

Whatever we do, we do by God's grace, not our own strength.

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Two Kinds of Pride

The pride this month celebrates is very different from the pride God warns us against.

"For all that is in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—is not of the Father but is of the world.” — 1 John 2:16 KJV

God warns us of the "pride of life," a self-exalting attitude that is not from Him but from the world.

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Heavenly Father

We praise you for the good you have done through us.
We ask forgiveness for all that falls short.
Guide us, Lord, as we navigate a world marked by beauty and brokenness.
Help us to remember to love others as you love them.

When Jesus was on earth, He welcomed sinners and outcasts.
He broke bread with them and loved them, and pointed to a better way—
Not by celebrating their sin, but by offering salvation.

Help us, dear Lord, to walk in that same love and truth.

In Jesus' name we pray.
Amen.

The Big Red Ball: When Grief Comes Bouncing Back

Grief, pain, and sorrow do not come with a timeline. Sometimes they crash into our lives long after the event is over. On anniversaries—or in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday—grief doesn’t care. It arrives uninvited, bringing a wave of memories and pain that feels just as fresh as the day it began.

So many people, so much pain.

A friend lost her husband and daughter in the same year. Another lost her father after a long illness. Mothers have lost children through tragic accidents. Sometimes, it’s simply too much to bear. And we ask ourselves: How can we comfort someone when that awful anniversary is looming?

Much has been written about what not to say. I won’t repeat all that advice here. But let me offer this: “I’m sorry” is always welcome. Tell a story about the loved one if you knew them. Give the grieving space to cry and to remember. You know your friend—do they need solitude, or do they prefer companionship? A quick call or text can help you know what they need before you show up.

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The Red Ball of Grief

A friend once shared a story with me, one that I now pass along to others who are hurting. I hope it helps you or someone you love.

Think of your life as a box, filled with all your experiences. Then, one day, something terrible happens—a grief event. That grief becomes a big red ball inside your box.

At first, the ball is enormous. It touches all sides of your box at once, pressing against everything, overwhelming your ability to think, breathe, or function. The pain is constant. It’s always there.

But over time, something changes. Not the ball—it stays the same size—but the box gets bigger. As time moves forward, you add new experiences, relationships, and moments to your life. Your box expands.

The ball still bounces around. It still hits the sides of the box sometimes, and when it does, the pain comes rushing back. But now, it doesn’t hit as often. The intervals get longer. And sometimes, you can see it coming—birthdays, holidays, the anniversary of the loss.

You plan for it. You brace. You visit those who understand.

I went to see my widowed aunt and cousins on the first anniversary of my own loss. They knew what I needed: space, understanding, and a shared silence that said, “We get it.”

As time goes on, other red balls may enter your box. New losses. New grief. And they don’t replace the old ball—they bounce off each other. Sometimes they clash so forcefully that it’s hard to tell one sorrow from the next.

But now, you know. You’ve felt this before. You’ve grown. You’ve survived.

A great loss is not something you “get over.” It’s something you get through—and not alone. Sometimes you’re the one with the ball. Sometimes it’s someone else.

When you see their ball, don’t ignore it. You won’t remind them of their pain—they already feel it. What they might need is:

• Someone to hold them when the ball crashes into them.

• Someone to soften the blow.

• Or someone to tell a funny story about the person they lost.

Stories give shape to the ball. They help us remember with love instead of only pain. And sometimes, they help the ball bounce a little more gently.

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A Prayer for the Grieving

Dear God in Heaven,

You suffered loss as we do.

Jesus lost His earthly father as a young man.
He lost His cousin John to a brutal murder.
He lost a dear friend in Lazarus.

And finally, Father, You lost Your Son to the cross.

You understand what it means to grieve.

We praise You for the promise of no more tears, no more sorrow, no more sickness or death.
Thank You that we feel loss so deeply because we have loved so intensely.

We long for the reunion we are promised.

In Christ alone,
Amen

Patience Grasshopper

Patience, Young Grasshopper

One of my favorite TV shows as a teenager was Kung Fu with David Carradine. In frequent flashbacks, his character—then a young monk-in-training—was taught by his Chinese master, who often reminded him, "Patience, young grasshopper," whenever he struggled to master a skill or understand a lesson.

Patience is one of the hardest virtues to teach children—and maybe even harder for adults to practice. I still vividly remember being told, "Patience is a virtue."

Today, we live in a world that runs on instant gratification. Social media rewards us with "likes" in seconds. News must be digested in under 30 seconds. We expect instant responses to emails and texts. We want what we want, and we want it now.

But God is not on our schedule.

He is infinitely patient—slow to anger and rich in mercy. He promises to return and redeem what is broken, but His timing is not our own. As 2 Peter 3:9 says, "The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise... He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance."

We're called to reflect this patience—even when life makes it hard. James 1:2–4 and Colossians 3:12–13 remind us that patience, especially in trials, shapes our character and reflects Christ.

So how do we live with patience in a hurry-up-and-wait world?

We imitate Him who created us. We slow down. We love those who make us count to ten. We remember that patience isn't a quick fix—it’s a steady trust in God’s timing. It's empathy: recognizing that everyone is facing something we can't see. It’s humility: realizing we're not the center of the universe.

Next time someone cuts you off in traffic or runs late or seems afraid of something you find simple—pray for them. Not that they’d "get it together," but that they’d find peace in Christ. And pray that you might show grace in moments you don’t understand.

Paul tells us in Galatians 5:22–23 that “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” These aren’t separate fruits from different trees—they’re all expressions of the same Spirit. If we’re growing in patience, we’ll show love. If we have self-control, we’ll be more gentle. Don’t let the enemy steal your peace with impatience.

Patience isn’t passive. It’s not just waiting—it’s how we wait. It’s choosing love over irritation. I wouldn’t be here if Jesus hadn’t been patient with me.

And remember: if you pray for patience, God just might give you the opportunity to practice it. (The first time I did, He dropped two little children at my house in the Bush—but that’s a story for another time.)

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Patience is not the ability to wait, but to have a good attitude while waiting.

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Heavenly Father,
You are so patient with me—thank You.
Please help me be kind, generous, and patient with those around me.
Some lessons are hard, but nothing is too hard for You.
Correct my attitude when impatience creeps in,
and teach me to respond with love.

I love You, Lord Jesus.
Amen

Not All Who Wander are Lost

 Wandering with a Purpose: Trusting the True GPS

After moving to a large metropolitan city, I’ve found the need to “get out of town” rising more often. There’s something about wide-open skies, mountains, and the stillness of nature that restores the soul—especially after days surrounded by pavement, buildings, and nonstop noise.

Earlier this year, I visited Oatman, Arizona—a small town with an Old West vibe, semi-wild burros wandering the streets, and rich history. Named after Olive Oatman, a girl who survived an Indian massacre in 1851, the town was settled by miners in 1915 and feels like a step back in time. I loved it and wanted to share it with friends, so we planned a day trip.

We were excited, but Las Vegas traffic had other plans. It took nearly an hour on the I-11 before we began to see desert sand, mountains, and the spindly silhouettes of Joshua trees. Our route took us past signs for Pearce Ferry, Dolan Springs, Chloride, and even a place called Santa Claus—before reaching Kingman, the largest town between Vegas and Oatman. There, we picked up historic Route 66, once the great American highway stretching from Chicago to Santa Monica.

Though I had GPS, I wasn’t entirely confident—we were in the mountains, and signal drops are real. We started noticing signs of recent storms: standing water and dirt debris. Then, the pavement ended. The road ahead was rough, the homes sparse and weathered, and the horizon obscured. Uncertain, and encouraged by my passengers, I turned around. We reprogrammed the GPS and were rerouted through tiny towns where livestock outnumbered people. Eventually, we found ourselves on Route 68… headed somewhere.

The detour made me think of Moses. His journey from Egypt to the Promised Land had divine GPS—God’s Positioning System—guiding them with a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night (Exodus 13:21). All they had to do was trust and follow. But when the path ahead looked uncertain or too hard, they turned around. Fear replaced faith, and a trip that should have taken weeks stretched into forty years.

As for us? Turns out, had we stayed the course down that dirt road, we would have made it to Oatman. The road was passable—just muddy from recent floods.

The lesson? When the road ahead seems unclear or uncomfortable, keep trusting your GPS—Jesus Christ. He never loses signal. When we take detours (and we all do), He gently invites us back. You may not reach your original destination, but you will arrive exactly where God can use you. Like the Israelites who finally entered the Promised Land under Joshua’s leadership, you'll come to realize—you are home.

That day, we may not have made it to Oatman, but we made meaningful memories. We had deep conversations, laughed, sat in silence, and reflected. As J.R.R. Tolkien said, “Not all those who wander are lost.” We weren’t truly lost. We just didn’t know exactly where we were… until we did. Civilization reappeared, the Colorado River sparkled in the sun, and familiar comforts welcomed us. It wasn’t the place we set out to find—but it was exactly where we were supposed to be.

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Prayer

Heavenly Father,

You alone direct our feet and know our path.
Thank You for the guidance You provide.
Forgive us when we do not trust You—
when we lean on our own understanding
and turn aside in our own wisdom.
We praise You for bringing us through doubts
and fears, keeping us safe in Your hand.

In Jesus’ holy and precious name, Amen.

God Winks

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God Winks and Open Doors

I call those little moments when something unexpected happens God Winks. It's like God saying, “Here—I did this for you.” Lately, I’ve experienced a series of God Winks that have deeply blessed my heart.

I’m nearly finished earning my Master of Arts in Christian Leadership. Honestly, I’m walking the tightrope between burnout and wondering if I can afford more school. On a whim, I decided to double up on a few classes so I could graduate sooner. My counselor made it happen, and now I’ll finish in early May instead of late June.

God Wink #1: If I hadn’t changed my schedule, I would still be in school—and unable to consider what came next.

A few weeks later, my church announced a short-term mission trip to South Africa. I’ve thought about going on missions before (one trip to Indonesia was canceled due to the pandemic). While I love to travel, South Africa wasn’t on my top-ten bucket list. Still, I was curious and wanted to attend an informational meeting—but both were scheduled during my time out of town visiting family and friends.

God Wink #2: My best friend/sister and her husband returned a day early from their trip, so I got home in time to attend the final meeting.

My late husband Jim and I never had children of our own, but we helped raise my nephews, fostered kids, and have lots of “adopted” children and grandchildren. I’ve always been involved in children’s ministry at church.

God Wink #3: At the meeting, we learned one of the mission sites would be an orphanage. I knew right then—I had to go.

I moved to Las Vegas to be closer to my elderly mother. She lives independently, but her health isn’t great. I wanted to be sure one of my siblings could be nearby while I was away. One brother would be working on the North Slope in Alaska. Another travels a lot. I wasn’t sure it would work out.

God Wink #4: My middle brother said, “Just go—we’ll figure it out.” Because of their love for me and our mom, my brothers are generously using their leave time and flying thousands of miles so I can go on this trip.

There were only two weeks between the informational meeting and the sign-up deadline. With just two days to spare—and after much prayer—I signed up.

Retirement and part-time work mean my budget is tight. The cost of the trip was more than I could manage comfortably. So, stepping out in faith and way outside my comfort zone, I asked for help.

God Wink #5: My friends and family responded with such generosity. I am now fully funded—airfare, room, board, everything. God is so good.

Some would call all this coincidence. I call it divine orchestration. I believe God has something special waiting in South Africa—for those we’ll serve, and for me too.

Please join me in prayer for this mission. For those already serving, for the children we’ll meet, and for our team as we prepare to go.

Acts 1:8 tells us we will be Jesus’ witnesses “to the ends of the earth.” Like Isaiah, when God asked, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?” I’m saying, “Here am I. Send me.”

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Prayer

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for the opportunity to serve You beyond my comfort zone.
I praise You for calling me to the remotest parts of the earth
and for allowing me to see Your hand at work in my life.
Please bless each person on our team—keep us healthy and ready to serve.
Prepare the hearts of those in Gqeberha, and prepare our hearts with love, joy, and the Holy Spirit.

In Jesus’ precious name, Amen.

Tell the Story

I Love to Tell the Story

As many of you know, I’m currently working toward my Master’s degree in Christian Leadership. Recently in class, we were asked to reflect on how the Gospel speaks to believers—especially those of us who are more mature in our faith. Does the Gospel still move us? Do we take it for granted? Or is it still sweet every time we hear the old, old story?

I’m an avid reader, and I often reread books more than I pick up new ones. (By the way, if you have any great fiction recommendations, let me know!) But among all the books I return to, none draw me back more than the Gospels. I especially love the Gospel of John. In truth, I fell in love with Jesus through John’s words. Every time I revisit these books, they teach me something new.

I’ve learned how to love because of how deeply I am loved. I’ve learned how to forgive because of how fully I’ve been forgiven. I’m still learning to pray better—not out of obligation, but because talking with my best friend is essential to our relationship. Sometimes, I get lost in the awe of God's limitlessness, holiness, and majesty—and I forget that this same God is always right here with me, caring for me like the smallest atom in a vast universe. While I’m often too busy, Jesus never is.

Jesus didn’t have to come in the flesh. God could’ve started over after humanity’s first rebellion. But instead, His boundless love was poured out through Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. Jesus wept in sorrow (John 11:35). He rejoiced with friends (Luke 10:21–24). He sought quiet time with the Father (Mark 6:45–46). He showed righteous anger at injustice (John 2:14–16). He was patient with disciples who struggled to understand (Matt. 17:20).

He’s patient with me, too.

Jesus reminds me that no matter how many times I mess up, He is faithful to forgive. All four Gospels recount Peter’s denial—and yet, after the resurrection, Peter is forgiven in the most beautiful way (John 21:15–17). If Jesus could forgive His closest earthly friends, surely He forgives us as well.

So dear friends, I encourage you: read the Gospels often. Let them tell you the old, old story again. Find a Christian friend and remind each other of His never-ending love. Share with a pre-believing friend about the hope they can find in Jesus.

The Gospels contain it all—adventure, romance, family dynamics, friendship, betrayal, mystery, and redemption. Some of us need to return to our First Love. We get so focused on studying theology, memorizing verses, or searching for new truths that we forget to simply savor the sweetness of the Story.

The Gospel should never grow old. As the old hymn says:

I Love to Tell the Story
Of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory,
Of Jesus and His love.

👉 Alan Jackson – I Love To Tell the Story (Live) on YouTube

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Prayer

Heavenly Father,
I praise You for the love You show.
Thank You for teaching me how to love.
That You forgive even me still blows me away.
Thank You for teaching me how to forgive.
Lord, I love to tell the story.
Please give me the courage and wisdom to share it with others.
Thank You for the writers You inspired to tell Your story.
We love You, Lord.

Amen.