A Tale of Two Rivers

When a dirty river and a clean river come together, the result is—dirty river. — William Stafford

There I saw a stream flowing east from beneath the door of the Temple … The waters of this stream will make the salty waters of the Dead Sea fresh and pure. … Life will flourish wherever this water flows. (Ezekiel 47:1, 8-9 NLT)

In this tale of two rivers, Stafford speaks a hard truth. We’re up to our necks in murky water. Life in this world, where negativity is the norm and decay is the default, is hard. The pollution of global conflict, never-ending news, relentless fear, and the sludge of social media swirl around us, and the result is—dirty river

But God’s river is different. Ezekiel speaks of the Truth—a river that doesn’t become tainted, but transforms. Flowing from His Holy Temple, it touches the barren, the lifeless, the polluted, and makes them new. God’s river grows deeper, stronger, and purer as it flows, bringing healing, restoration, and life. When the stream from the Temple meets the Dead Sea, the result is—clean river.

This river of life isn’t just a vision—it’s a reality—and His name is Jesus. “Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them” (John 7:38, NIV). When we look to and follow Christ, His Spirit flows in us and through us, and it doesn't just cleanse—it transforms. No matter how "murky" things may be, His water saves, sanctifies, and gives life.

In this tale of two rivers—dirty or clean—where do you find yourself?

In the midst of hard truth or… the Truth?

Paradise is Coming

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous.”

(Joshua 1:9, NIV)

I recently started a new job, and I love it. But I’ve learned over time that no matter how good a situation seems, it won’t be perfect. Every job, relationship, or circumstance comes with its own set of obstacles. Why? Because we live in a broken world.

As Christians, we often assume that when we step into God’s will for our lives, everything should be easy. If we’re obeying God, living out our faith, and walking with Jesus, shouldn’t life be smooth sailing?

We need to be careful not to confuse the Promised Land with paradise. 

When we think of the Promised Land, we might picture a place of rest, abundance, and fulfillment. But the biblical reality is different. The Promised Land was, “a land flowing with milk and honey,” but it was also a place of challenge, struggle, and hardship. When the Israelites crossed the Jordan River, they didn’t waltz into paradise—they marched into warfare.

When Joshua and Caleb finally entered the land God had promised, they found giants, walled cities, and enemies who didn’t want them there. The Promised Land wasn’t a retreat—it was a battlefield. And yet, it was where they were meant to be. It was the place God led them—and He promised to go before them, fight for them, and fulfill His purpose in their lives.

Too often, we confuse our calling with comfort. We assume that if God has provided and led us somewhere, the path should be smooth. We wrongly equate the "Promised Land" with paradise, and then we live in doubt, disillusionment, and sorrow when trials arise.

The truth is, paradise isn’t here yet. Jesus said, “I go to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2, KJV). That place is heaven, our eternal home, where every tear will be wiped away. But for now, we are pilgrims in the Promised Land. We walk with God, but still in a broken world. We experience His promises in the midst of wrestling with life’s realities. The Promised Land is where we stand in faith, trusting that He is with us through the difficulties. It’s where we fight the good fight because He has called us to this place and time—and He is with us.

So, if you find yourself facing insurmountable walls, giants in the land, or rivers that seem impossible to cross, take courage. The Promised Land was never meant to be paradise; it’s the place where God grows your faith, strengthens your trust, and uses you for His glory. Press on: look to Jesus, keep walking, keep trusting, and remember… paradise is coming.

Deadly Nearness

"My Father God, save me from… deadly nearness." – J.H. Jowett

"He came to Jesus at night..." (John 3:2, NIV)

Some ironies are tragic. Nicodemus was so near to Jesus, yet so far from Life. We first meet him at night—a Pharisee, a seeker of truth—meeting Jesus under the cover of darkness. Respectful, earnest… yet hesitant.

In John 7, Nicodemus speaks up for Jesus, defending His right to a fair hearing among the Pharisees, and yet he wavers. Reluctant to take a stand—to go all in.

Then, in John 19, Nicodemus helps prepare Jesus’ body for burial. He draws near, but Jesus is dead. The call to be born again is missed, and the last time we see him, he stands in the tomb of Jesus—silent.

After this moment, Nicodemus is not heard from again in Scripture. His story fades into history, speculation, and unspoken regret. What could have been is hauntingly gone. This is the sound of deadly nearness—a stillness that follows a life lived just outside the fullness of faith.

It’s more than a missed opportunity; it’s a choice—a failure to embrace the life that Jesus offers. The truth and presence of Christ are right in front of us, but we hold back, preferring our misery over His mystery. All that remains is a silent void—a deadly nearness.

Some ironies are truly tragic.

Dear Jesus, save me from deadly nearness. May I not linger in the shadows, hesitating at the threshold of Your love and grace. Help me lean fully into You, embracing the Life and transformation that You offer. Teach me to live my faith boldly, and walk with You in Spirit and in Truth. Amen.

The Perfect Picture

“You’re nothing but a mist, a wisp of fog, catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing.” — James 4:14 (MSG)

As a budding photographer, I’ve learned that fog is elusive—constantly shifting, moving, and vanishing. You have to act fast to capture the shot because with fog, it’s there one moment, and gone the next. But when the light and mist align, something extraordinary happens—a brief moment of breathtaking beauty—the perfect picture.

I think that’s what James had in mind when he spoke about our lives—we are all a mist—brief, beautiful, and then gone. Psalm 39:5 reminds us, “Everyone is but a breath, even those who seem secure” (NIV). Rich or poor, powerful or weak, young or old, no one outruns time. Left to ourselves, our days slip by—unremarkable. But in the Lord, our lives can take on lasting beauty.

Jesus is, “the light of the world” (John 8:12, NIV). He is the “bright morning star,” and when the mist of our lives reflects His light we become more than a passing vapor. We embody a radiance and beauty that transcends time. 

Light gives life. A stained-glass window without light is just darkened glass—its beauty unseen, its purpose unfulfilled. But when light floods through it, the colors glow, and its true design is revealed. In the same way, a life without Jesus is like mist in the dark—formless and unseen. But when His Spirit shines through us—even for a moment—we glisten with beauty.

The light of Jesus takes our ordinary moments and fills them with His glory. A song becomes more than just music, a sermon more than just words, and an act of kindness more than just a good deed. A whispered prayer, a cup of cold water given in His name, a word spoken in love—each one, touched by His light, carries a glory that outlasts us.

We’re not perfect, and no matter how hard we try, we cannot create lasting glory for ourselves. But we can reflect the glory of Jesus, the One who lasts forever. So let His love illuminate the mist that is your life. When you do, you become—in that moment—the perfect picture of His breathtaking beauty.

“Hangry” or Worse?

Michal, Saul’s daughter, was barren the rest of her life.

                                        (2 Samuel 6:23, MSG)

The night should have been special. My wife, daughters, and sons-in-law were all gathered around the table—a rare moment when our busy lives aligned, giving us the chance to laugh, talk, and simply enjoy being together. But I missed the moment.

I was physically present—seated among them—but my heart was elsewhere. My mind was consumed with irritation, criticism, and frustration. The restaurant was busy, the service slow,  the waiter inattentive… and I was fuming. (I wish I could say I was just “hangry,” but I wasn’t.)

Instead of partaking in the joy and beauty all around the table, I quenched it. My family felt the weight of my spirit, and my attitude affected them. My negativity left me empty, lifeless, and barren. I let my frustration dictate my presence, and in doing so, I missed out on the fun, beauty, blessing, and love—the real feast—that was happening all around me.

A fretting, distracted, and critical heart results in an empty, barren life.

Michal, the wife of King David, knew something of this. She was right in the midst of the presence of God, watching as the Ark of the Covenant was brought into Jerusalem. But instead of celebrating, she sat in judgment. As David danced before the Lord, Michal watched from a distance, her heart hardened with contempt. She could have joined the celebration, but instead, she missed the moment—consumed with irritation, criticism, frustration, and pride.

The result? Barrenness—not just physical, but spiritual. She missed the joy of God’s presence and the life-giving, fruit-bearing abundance that comes from a surrendered heart. She was near the things of God (sitting right at the table), but she missed out on the fun, beauty, blessing, and love happening all around her.

There’s no shortage of things in our world—and in our lives—that stir criticism, irritation, or frustration. The Enemy works tirelessly to distract us, causing us to miss the blessing even when we're right in the middle of it. We can sit at the table and never taste the goodness set before us. Surrounded by worship, fellowship, and God’s Spirit, we quench it, stuck in our distractions. And in the end, we walk away empty, lifeless, and barren.

But there is a way back, and His name is Jesus.

We must turn away from the many distractions of the Enemy and “fix our eyes on Jesus.” He is the one who said, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33, NIV)

Are you “hangry” or worse? Is your spirit barren? Lean into the abundant life that is Jesus. Enter into the celebration. Don’t miss the feast. Be present. Be life-giving. “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” (Psalm 34:8, NIV)

Open the Tent Fly

Even the smallest light can dispel the greatest darkness.

                                    — J.R.R. Tolkien

The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine. (Isaiah 9:2, NLT)

When I was in my twenties I went on a three-day raft trip with my Dad and a couple of other guys. We were on the Smith River, deep in the remote wilderness of Montana. The experience was amazing. On the first night of the trip, Dad and I set up our pup tent, laid out our sleeping bags and quickly fell asleep. We were exhausted from a full day of rowing, exploring and fun. 

I tend to be a wild sleeper—prone to talking in my sleep, half-awake/half-asleep moments, and occasional sleepwalking. I awoke in our pup tent in the dead of night, enveloped in complete blackness. We were in the wilderness, with no streetlights or artificial light—just mountains and darkness looming all around—and in my half-asleep state, I panicked. 

I couldn’t see a thing, and I was scared. My dad tried to console me, gently saying, “It’s okay bud, I’m here with you. We’re just sleeping in a tent on our raft trip.” But in my half-asleep state, I couldn’t be calmed. Finally, my dad unzipped the tent fly and told me to look up. The stars were breathtaking—their light pierced the darkness and dispelled my fear. I came to my senses and peacefully went back to sleep. 

Even kind words in the darkness couldn’t bring me peace. It took the light to dispel my fear. Fear and darkness are intertwined. Just as light dispels darkness, it also dispels fear. The moment I saw the light, my fear faded. 

In John 8:12, Jesus says, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (NIV)

Are you in the dark? Jesus is the light we need. Just as the stars pierced the darkness that night in the Montana wilderness, so does the light of Jesus pierce through the panic and fear in our lives. His light brings clarity in confusion, comfort in anxiety, and peace where there is worry. Darkness, panic, and fear are no match for the light of His love and presence. 

Look to Jesus. Open the tent fly of your heart and let Him light up your life.

Seemingly Impossible

Your road led through the sea, your pathway through the mighty waters—a pathway no one knew was there! (Psalm 77:19 NLT)

Yesterday marked the fifth anniversary of my healing from a life-threatening pancreatic tumor. It’s a story filled with terms and phrases like: suffering, rare, unknown, insulinoma, failed attempts, trouble, doubt, seemingly impossible, Mayo Clinic, faith, prayer, and help.

As I sit here healthy and thankful, reflecting on Psalm 77, I am reminded of the sea, the mighty waters, and the hidden pathway I didn’t know was there. My story (and yours) is a part of the greater story of God’s people. 

When the children of Israel followed God’s direction away from the Egyptian army, they suddenly faced a seemingly impossible obstacle—the Red Sea. From their vantage point, it was hopeless. No escape. No salvation. Their path with God had led them to a dead-end… or so it seemed.

But the story didn’t end there. God parted the sea, making a way no one could have imagined. He delivered His people and destroyed their enemies.

God made a way where there seemed to be no way.

The same God that made a way for the Israelites thousands of years ago came to earth in His Son, Jesus Christ. He died on the cross to give us life. God loves us that much! Jesus is the “way,” the truth and the life (John 14:6, NIV)

What challenges are you facing today—illness, personal struggles, global crises, overwhelming doubt? We’re constantly surrounded by reminders of hopelessness. But remember: God is not limited by what we perceive as reality. He led the children of Israel down a pathway that no one knew was there—no one except God. 

Are you up against a seemingly impossible situation? Be encouraged: God knows... and He knows the way through.

Call upon and trust in Jesus—He is the God who makes a way.

Surviving, but…Thirsty

On the last day, the climax of the holidays, Jesus shouted to the crowds, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. For the Scriptures declare that rivers of living water shall flow from the inmost being of anyone who believes in me.” (John 7:37-38, TLB)

The celebration of Christmas and the New Year has passed, and we're all settling back into work, school, and the routines of daily life. As we reconnect, the common question arises: "How were your holidays?" and most of us respond with some variation of "exhilarating" or "exhausting"—or perhaps a bit of both. The whirlwind of the season—whether filled with joy or exhaustion—often leaves us feeling parched and longing for renewal. 

Now that we are back at it, we’re surviving, but…thirsty. 

Thirst is a signal, a reminder that the body needs water. When that need goes unmet, the consequences can be serious. The same is true for trees. When trees lack water, they can survive for a time, but they become vulnerable to the devastating effects of killer beetles. Beetles thrive on trees that are not adequately watered. When a tree is well-watered, it produces an abundance of sap—so much that if a beetle attempts to bore into it, the sap overwhelms and drowns the beetle. The tree’s health and protection come from its access to water. Without enough water, the tree may survive for a time, but it becomes vulnerable to attack, illness, and eventual death.

This simple truth mirrors our spiritual lives: without the living water from Jesus, we may survive for a time, but we become vulnerable to the Enemy's schemes and eventually, spiritual decay. The Enemy preys on those who aren’t filled with the life-giving water of the Spirit. But when we are well-watered by the Spirit, Jesus produces abundant life in us—so much that when the Enemy attempts to attack, he is overwhelmed and driven out. Our strength and protection come from our access to the living water of Jesus. 

Jesus invites us to come to Him for this life-giving water:

Is anyone thirsty? Come and drink… (Isaiah 55:1, NLT)

Those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life. (John 4:14, NLT)

Jesus offers us the water of life to quench our thirst and empower us to thrive. Are you thirsting today? Come to the source. Let Jesus, the Living Water, fill you until you overflow, ensuring that you not only survive, but flourish.

An Epiphany on Epiphany

There were three things prefigured and promised by the gifts in the cave in Bethlehem concerning the Child who received them: that He would be crowned like a King; that He should be worshipped like a God; and that He should die like a man. And these things would sound like Eastern flattery, were it not for the third.

                            — G.K. Chesterton (1874-1936)

Thanks to G.K. Chesterton, I had an epiphany on Epiphany.

In the Christian tradition, Epiphany is a feast on January 6th that celebrates the Magi's (the three wise men) visit to the child Jesus, revealing Him as the Messiah to the world.

The “third” gift that the wise men brought, the myrrh, is the kicker.

The gold symbolized Christ's kingship, recognizing His authority over all, reminding us to honor Him as the King who lovingly reigns over our lives with justice and mercy. The frankincense, which was used in worship, in candles and incense, signifies Jesus' divinity, reminding us that He is Emmanuel, God with us, the only one deserving of our worship and adoration.

And then there is the myrrh.

Myrrh was commonly used in ancient times for embalming and burial preparations. Its inclusion as a gift for Jesus is startling. Myrrh points to Jesus’ sacrifice, showing that the Child came to die—so I could truly live. His suffering and death bridged the gap between me and God.

Without myrrh, the gifts of the Magi seem nice and flattering, but with it, they explode with meaning (an epiphany):

Jesus, my King and my God, came to die for me!

The Ultimate Mystery

Good news; but if you ask me what it is, I know not;
It is a track of feet in the snow,
It is a lantern showing a path,
It is a door set open.
       — G.K. Chesterton 1874-1936

Everybody loves a good mystery, and G.K. Chesterton has penned for us a tiny yet profound mystery novel in this brief passage. All the elements are present: an intriguing setup, a trail of hints, and the hope of revelation. A great mystery draws us in by what it withholds, and Chesterton offers just enough to stir our imagination and awaken something deep within us—a longing to know, to seek, and to enter in.

The beauty of his verse lies in the opening phrase: “Good News,” where he invites us into the very mystery of God. Like shepherds, drawn by an angelic announcement on a Bethlehem night, we hear whispers of “good news,” but ask, … what is it?

God and His ways are mysterious, yet He longs to be known. He is ever giving us clues—wooing us unto Himself with the beauty of creation, the depth of Scripture, and the quiet nudges of His Spirit. For those who long to know, to seek, and to enter in, the search is over. In the Christ of Christmas, the mystery is solved:

“The mystery hidden for ages and generations…is now revealed to His saints…Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:26-27).

Jesus is the track of feet in the snow, the lantern on the path, and the door set open. He doesn’t just point the way—He is the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6).

Chesterton’s tiny mystery novel is no mere story—it’s an invitation to encounter the ultimate mystery—the “Good News”—and His name is Jesus.

Merry Christmas.