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Tag: God

  • Christmas 2025: Jesus

    Jesus – Luke 2:41–52

    We have citrus trees along the side of our house. Four years ago we planted them. They are still in the juvenile stage, growing taller and taller each season. It’s a slow process and will take another few years before they produce any fruit.

    Before Jesus preaches and begins His ministry of healing, teaching, miracles, and calling followers, we read of Him doing something very ordinary – learning. Here we get that picture of a student, asking questions, listening, and sitting among teachers. Even Jesus, the Son of God, takes part in that slow work of growth before going about producing anything.

    It’s quite a simple story. Jesus doesn’t perform any wonders or reveal Himself to others. What He is doing is growing in wisdom, stature, and favour with God and the people (v52). This is a time of formation for Jesus. And if Jesus required it, then perhaps we too might need to do the same.

    Growth doesn’t happen overnight, it’s often gradual, unnoticed, and uncomfortable. Yet God uses these seasons to shape us, to humble us, and provide us with wisdom and patience for the road ahead. Luke’s inclusion of this story reminds us that we are being formed through those unseen and ordinary years.

    It’s like learning a new musical instrument, having to practice and practice and practice when no one is looking. It’s like moving through adolescence, discovering who we are, what our purpose is, and where we belong. As someone once said, growth is like outgrowing old shoes; it’s awkward, slightly painful, but necessary.

    We often want instant results, instant transformation, but discipleship takes time.

    Ask God to highlight one area where He wants you to grow this season. Is it patience, courage, compassion, humility, wisdom, rest? Something else perhaps? Take one small step this week in that direction.

    Where might God be inviting you to lean into slow, steady growth this Christmas?

    This devotional series runs alongside our Songs for the Saviour sermon series this Christmas. It explores the four ‘songs’ of Luke’s Gospel, which in their historical Latin form are known as the Magnificat, Benedictus, Gloria in Excelsis, and Nunc Dimittis.

  • The Tender Mercy of God

    In the month leading up to Christmas Day I think I have been present and shared something of the Christmas story at six ‘extra’ end of year events. We all know it’s a busy time, with plenty of different activities in church, school, and other community groups we’re involved in. For me, this has probably been my most active Christmas in some time, possibly ever. And as you can imagine, I’m wanting to share the great news of Jesus’ birth, but also do so in a way that isn’t stale. I want it to be attractive and meaningful for the hearers, and also for me personally as the speaker. At some of these events I can share the same message with a tweak or two, but by the time you’ve done that 2-3 times I feel within myself that it’s time to change it up. 

    That’s why, at our Community Kitchen Christmas meal the other evening, I decided to share for five minutes on the phrase, “the tender mercy of God”, which comes from Luke 1:78.

    It’s such a great phrase. It’s beautiful really. And it is part of the Christmas story, tucked away in Zechariah’s song. 

    After months of silence, and the birth of his son John, Zechariah breaks into praise. His words look back and acknowledge God’s faithfulness (Luke 1:68-75), and then turn toward the future and the coming of Jesus, which lead him to say those words, “the tender mercy of God”. 

    Tender mercy. 

    This is not forceful power. 

    This is not harsh correction. 

    This is not distant authority. 

    This is tender mercy. 

    Zechariah’s song helps us understand what kind of God we are dealing with, and what kind of salvation He is bringing into the world through Jesus. 

    John, Zechariah’s son, was not to be the central character of the story. He would be the one who prepared the way. Like the opening act at a concert who warms up the crowd and gets them ready for the main artist or band, his role was important but not ultimate. He would point beyond himself to Jesus. 

    And what was he preparing people for? 

    Not a political revolution. 

    Not economic rescue.

    Not national independence. 

    John was preparing people for salvation through the forgiveness of sins. A salvation that flows from God’s tender mercy. 

    If we’re honest, we often look outward for our own salvation. We want to be saved from difficult circumstances, whether it’s pressure at work, financial stress, health challenges, and broken relationships. And God cares about all those things. 

    But Christmas reminds us that God’s deeper work for us is inward. 

    God comes to deal with the things we carry beneath the surface. Guilt. Shame. Regret. Fear. The quiet sense that things aren’t right inside of us. 

    And He doesn’t come aggressively or forcefully, He comes gently and tenderly. 

    God doesn’t approach us with a raised voice, or come to shame and humiliate. He isn’t impatient or hurried or fed up and disappointed. 

    God meets us in our brokenness with closeness. 

    He draws near. 

    Perhaps you’ve had a similar experience to me when on Christmas Day you celebrate a meal with all the special cutlery and utensils. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. Out comes the special plates, the special bowls, the fine glassware, and the more expensive cutlery. There are decorations that only come out once a year, perhaps there are some precious ornaments displayed around the room too. And within this celebration there are kids around, excited and happy and joyful. 

    Now, imagine that one of them accidentally knocks a glass off the table. It shatters on the floor and its contents stain the carpet. The room is suddenly quiet. The child freezes. They’re waiting. 

    What are they waiting for? Most likely a parent or family member to get cross out of the stress, pressure, and frustration that a Christmas Day meal can bring. 

    But tender mercy is not snapping in frustration. 

    Tender mercy is not shaming or scolding. 

    Tender mercy is kneeling down, wrapping them in a hug, and saying, “It’s OK. No worries. I’ll sort it out.”

    This, Zechariah tells us, is what God is like. 

    Because of God’s tender mercy, Jesus comes into the world. 

    Because of God’s tender mercy, forgiveness is possible.

    Because of God’s tender mercy, light shines into dark places.

    And because of God’s tender mercy, God guides people into a path of peace.

    It isn’t about having life neatly organised. It isn’t about pretending things are fine. It isn’t about performing spiritual competence. It is about a God who draws near, who sees us as we are, and who chooses compassion over condemnation.

    Wherever this season finds you; tired, hopeful, grieving, uncertain, or desperately trying to hold things together, the message of Christmas remains the same.

    God’s mercy is tender.

    And it is for you.

  • Book Review: Spurgeon’s Sorrows – Realistic Hope for Those Who Suffer from Depression

    Would it surprise you to learn that one of the greatest preachers in Christian history, the so-called ‘Prince of Preachers’, struggled with depression throughout his life and ministry? 

    Charles Haddon Spurgeon, pastor of the Metropolitan Tabernacle in 19th-century London, preached to thousands weekly, wrote extensively, and continues to shape preachers today. Yet behind the sermons, quotes, and books was a man who often walked through deep fog and valleys of darkness.

    I have known for many years that Spurgeon battled various health concerns, and at least a little depression, but I hadn’t realised how pervasive it actually was. In reading Spurgeon’s Sorrows by Zack Eswine I gained a better picture of the man but also the depths to which his depression and anxiety impacted his life. The other surprising thing about this was how public and how often he spoke about it. This short little volume (just over 100 pages) really opens the reality of mental illness not just for believers but also for pastors. I know it’s not talked about often, if at all, and this book is so helpful and insightful for all saints and sufferers. 

    Our churches are full of people who are going through depression, anxiety, and all ranges of mental illness. We may not see it while interacting with them on a Sunday morning, but they sit there, often silently, battling the melancholy of the mind. Older people carrying the weight of loneliness, middle-aged adults questioning their position in life, young people navigating their identity and uncertain future. They may not look depressed but are sure to be there in the pews. 

    As Christians it is important to talk about this. The Psalms do. So does Job. So does Elijah. So does Paul. And so does Spurgeon. One reason I found this book helpful was the normalising of this conversation without reducing it to Christian cliches or simplistic solutions.

    To give you an idea of the depth of Spurgeon’s struggle he once said, 

    “The mind can descend far lower than the body, for in it there are bottomless pits. The flesh can bear only a certain number of wounds and no more, but the soul can bleed in ten thousand ways, and die over and over again each hour.”

    He knew the darkness that makes it hard to pray, to preach, to feel anything at all. That numbness that comes over us when walking through an unending fog. He writes about this kind of depression as something that comes uninvited and stays longer than is welcome. And yet, in all of this, he saw no contradiction between faith and depression. He writes elsewhere, “Depression of spirit is no index of declining grace”. 

    This is encouraging for us as believers. It’s comforting to hear this from someone who has lived faithfully under the weight of this burden. How often are we prone to think such a thought or such a condition may disqualify us of our belief? But it is not so!

    We walk with Christ in the valleys and on the mountaintops and everywhere in between. 

    Eswine writes with care and warmth. He doesn’t overreach. He lets Spurgeon speak and then offers reflections that feel more like a conversation. 

    In one part of the book Eswine lists various helps that Spurgeon would undertake to help him recover from these periods of flatness, which again was really helpful. But he goes on to talk about how, 

    “The melancholy life thrives when it runs marathons instead of sprints, or when it sprints often, only to rest often. You needn’t try to do “the most things” in “the fastest ways” anymore. To resist this is to have seasons of rest and nature forced upon us by breakdown.”

    This is helpful for all of us who find ourselves running too fast and living on the edge of our limits. Whether it’s burnout, exhaustion, or anxiety, there is the invitation to slow down and let go of that performance mentality. 

    At times Spurgeon himself described what it was like when the overwhelm was upon him.In a sermon called The Christian’s Heaviness and Rejoicing he preached these words:

    “I was lying upon my couch during this last week, and my spirits were sunken so low that I could weep by the hour like a child, and yet I knew not what I wept for…”

    How about that!? How raw. How open. How vulnerable and honest. It’s not the kind of thing we would hear out of a 21st-century preacher would we?

    The book, thankfully, doesn’t offer neat answers, tied up firmly like a shoelace. It doesn’t promise that darkness will lift, but what it does do is point to Christ. It points to Christ to declare that He is the one who truly understands what we may be going through. 

    I would recommend this book to anyone, it’s a must read. It’s five stars. If you’re a pastor it will do your own soul a truckload of good, and also help you walk with those who suffer from mental illness themselves. If you’re someone who experiences depression, or are in it now, then this book gives you a helpful and faithful voice to that which you struggle with. And if you walk with those who do walk the road of mental illness then this book might help you understand it a little more. 

    To close I can’t but leave you with one of my favourite quotes from Spurgeon about suffering and depression. While speaking about God providing all our needs from Philippians 4:19 he preaches,

    “Then comes our need in suffering, for many of us are called to take our turn in the Lord’s prison camp. Here we need patience under pain and hope under depression of spirit. Who is sufficient for furnace-work? Our God will supply us with those choice Graces and consolations which shall strengthen us to glorify His name even in the fires! He will either make the burden lighter, or the back stronger—He will diminish the need, or increase the supply.”

    Amazing. 

    How great that the Lord our God is with us through the troughs of life and will indeed supply us with everything we need. 

  • Pull Up A Pew

    Pull Up A Pew

    I’ve been toying around with poetry lately, both as a fun little exercise and something to learn and improve my writing.

    I wrote the following after reflecting on Matthew 14:23, where Jesus, even after all the ministry and miracles, withdraws alone to pray. I suspect many of us live in the tension of hurry and stillness, this is a kind of prayer from that place. An invitation to slow down and respond out of the rest in his presence.

    Pull Up A Pew

    Driven, my heart beats fast and faster
    Hurried, from one to the next
    The urgent crowds out my time and place
    To sit, be still, and seek your face. 

    The mind, it races on and on
    Thinking, what I ought to do
    So much, so many, so few pursue
    But here you call, pull up a pew.

    You stopped and went with task after task
    Up the mountain, where in the Father you bask
    Teach me your ways, for I forget
    Instead I find I just project.

    I want to stop and pray my Lord
    To find the rest you promise so
    To leave the work in your hands
    As you lead me to the silent lands.

    After dismissing the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. Well into the night, he was there alone. – Matthew 14:23

  • The Ethics of AI: A Pastoral Reflection

    The Ethics of AI: A Pastoral Reflection

    AI is no longer just a buzzword or a new toy for those tech enthusiasts, is it? It’s here, beginning to expand its tentacles into our lives. Whether it’s at home, at work, our life admin, our church, and even our habits of thought and prayer, AI is making an impact. It’s fast. It’s smart (-ish). And if we’re honest, it can become slightly addictive. 

    Beyond the speed and fascination I’ve found myself asking some of those deeper questions about AI. Not about what it can do, but what it’s doing to me, to us. I’ve moved on from the question about whether it is right or wrong, and beginning to think through the way it forms me and my faith. What kind of person am I being shaped into, and is this coherent with the way of Jesus? 

    This is certainly not a how-to article on AI. Nor is it a listicle full of tips about the best apps or top tips in ethical AI use. Rather, it’s a reflection, a pastoral reflection seeking to bring to the top that question of, “Who am I becoming as I use this tech?”

    The reality is that tools don’t just serve us, they shape us. And AI, more than any other since the creation of the smartphone, is beginning to reach into parts of life where formation may already be fragile. 

    Worship Is Where Ethics Begins

    The starting point for Christian ethics is worship.

    Romans 12 doesn’t begin with behaviour. It begins with a posture drawn from the well of God. It says, 

    “In view of God’s mercy, offer your bodies as living sacrifices…”

    In other words, ethics isn’t just about what we do. It’s about how we live before God and who we are becoming because of God. It’s not just doing the ‘right’ things, it’s about the ‘who’ things. And so perhaps the first questions to ask ourselves is, “Is this helping me to live and worship and trust in God”? 

    This is where the hammer hits the nail for me. 

    AI, in all its cleverness, doesn’t only help me perform tasks. It makes me more efficient. It removes uncomfortable thinking, and sometimes thinking all together! And if I’m not careful it pushes me forward into a way of life that looks like a worldly hustle rather than the unhurried pace of the Spirit of God. 

    I’m not here to cry foul of all of AI, nor even say it is inherently wrong. I use it regularly. But I am saying we need to stop and reflect on how we are using it. I’m saying it’s worth watching closely its impact in not just our lives but in our hearts. If I don’t walk in the mercy of God, and stay firm in that foundation and identity, then I will find myself using these AI tools to keep producing and performing more and more. And I know if I walk that path then I’ll slowly but surely become less present to God, to others, and to myself. 

    The Promise and the Pushback

    A little while ago Kenny Jahng wrote an article called Beyond Binary Morality: How AI Challenges Traditional Christian Ethical Frameworks. It’s certainly worth your time to go and read. Kenny argues that AI reveals the limits of simple “right/wrong” categories. Algorithms, after all, aren’t choosing between good and evil by they’re weighing trade-offs, running probabilities, and calculating complexity.

    And in many ways, I agree with him. Wisdom in our time requires nuance (as it always has, no doubt). Neat moral boxes are beginning to be stretched for us, there is complexity and complication when thinking through Christian ethics of AI. 

    Where I found myself gently pushing back on this article, however, was the idea that AI might be the solution to pastoral overwhelm. As Kenny writes, many pastors feel burdened by tasks that don’t require their spiritual gifts—like creating policy and guidelines, doing administration, or making decisions on future projects and ministries without experience. Some of these aren’t soul-shaping tasks but just the cost of managing and navigating church life in the modern day. 

    AI, he argues, can be a relief valve.

    And he’s right, it can. It has been for me, in some areas of ministry. I’ve used it to help structure content, bring creativity to my thinking about ministry areas, and provide clearer communication to the church. This has meant I’ve had more time to focus on people, to be creative, and I’ve even found more time for prayer. But I do acknowledge there is another side to this. 

    That other side, the shadow side, is the fact that AI doesn’t remove the overwhelm, it can accelerate it. 

    If I don’t deal with what’s happening in my heart, the time I’ve saved won’t go to the priorities of prayer and preaching and other elements of what I call ‘Wordwork’, it’ll go to more output. More tasks. More tweaks. More production. More performance.

    This is why I keep coming back to remember that ethics begins with worship. When my use of AI is grounded in worship of God then the posture I hold is one of submission, surrender, and obedience. When it flows out of a need to produce, to prove myself, or to perform in front of others then it becomes something else. 

    Something that promises rest but quietly feeds the restlessness.

    Babel and the Illusion of Control

    That story from Genesis 11 is one that lives rent free in my mind at the moment. 

    “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves…”

    The Tower of Babel is a story about autonomy. It’s about humans using their creativity not in response to God, but in competition with him.

    And I think it’s an image that speaks into our age of AI. Not because AI is evil, but because it tempts us to think like Babel: I can control more. I can create more. I can become more. 

    But we’re not created in God’s image to view our lives and all that it entails in this way. We’re not given such responsibility. We’re made to receive the mercy and grace of God. We’re made to live in communion with God, not as optimised beings. 

    As we explore AI’s possibilities it’s worth asking ourselves the question, “Are we building a life with God or are we building a life for ourselves? 

    The Way of Jesus

    The more I use AI, the more I feel the invitation to slow down.

    It’s one thing to use a tool. It’s another to let it use you. And I don’t want to become the person who outsources the very parts of life and ministry that form and shape me as a child of God. 

    Sermons aren’t just written, they’re lived. 

    Pastoral care isn’t just organised, it’s personal and relational. 

    Discipleship isn’t just explanation and knowledge, it’s years-long formation under God and his people. 

    The way of Jesus is still slow. It’s relational. It’s incarnational. It requires presence. And if AI helps me serve others better, I’ll use it. But if it pulls me away from the kind of person Jesus is shaping me to be then it might be time to put it down.

    If you’re interested to explore this further you can also listen to our church podcast where we are beginning to explore AI in the church. You can grab the episodes here or on YouTube.

  • God’s Glory in Jesus: An Easter Reflection

    God’s Glory in Jesus: An Easter Reflection

    I preached this little reflection as part of our Service of Shadows at our Easter Thursday evening gathering.

    Hebrews 1:3 describes for us a clear and powerful summary of who Jesus is.

    The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word.

    What do we find of Jesus in this stunning sentence?

    1. He radiates.
    2. He represents.
    3. He sustains.

     First, he radiates.

    The Son is the radiance of God’s glory… (Hebrews 1:3)

    This is the image of light bursting forth from its source. Like the sun breaking through the clouds on an overcast day, with spots of light radiating through.

    Jesus doesn’t just reflect the glory of God, like a mirror reflects what is in front of it. Rather, he is the radiance of it. His light isn’t borrowed from somewhere or someone else, it actually comes from him directly. He is the light of the world after all (John 8:12). The glory of God shines through him.

    In a world clouded by confusion and darkness, Jesus is the one who shines clearly. If you’ve ever wondered what God is like, the answer is this Jesus, who radiates the heart of God.

    Second, he represents.

    …and the exact representation of his being… (Hebrews 1:3)

    He is the exacts representation of his being. Jesus isn’t a shadow or a copy. He’s not like a movie that has been adapted from a book, which never quite does the book justice. He’s not like a photocopied document, which is as never as clear as the original.

    He is the exact imprint of God’s nature. His character, his heart, and his holiness are all in Jesus.

    Colossians 1:15 says,

    “He is the image of the invisible God.”

    And in John 14:9, Jesus says,

    “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.“

     In Jesus we don’t just get a glimpse of God—we get God himself.

    Jesus shouldn’t just remind us of God, he reveals God and makes the unknowable known.   

     Third, he sustains.

    …sustaining all things by his powerful word. (Hebrews 1:3)

    As we gather this evening, right now, Jesus is holding the universe together. He’s not straining to do this, he’s not finding it particularly difficult or has to put in a lot of effort, but he is doing this through his word.

    The breath we take, the turning of the earth in time, the presence and placement of the stars and the moon are all upheld by Jesus and his word.

    John 1:3 reminds us that,

    …through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.

     And Colossians 1:17 tells us,

    He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

    This Jesus, the one who we hear in each of the readings here in our Service of Shadows, readings that speak of Jesus’ mocking, bruising, and crucifying, but who is also the one who sustains the universe.

    Even though we will hear the end of Jesus’ earthly life through these readings, his power isn’t diminished by the cross. In fact, it is the other way around, his power is revealed through it.

    As we sit in stillness and walk through the shadows on the way to the cross we know that Jesus is (1) the radiance of God’s glory, and yet went to the cross for our sake. We know that he is (2) the exact representation of God’s nature, and yet sacrificed himself for you and for me. And we know that he is (3) the one who sustains all things, upholding our very lives, yet gave up his life for ours, taking our place on the cross for our restoration to God.

  • Rest in the Rock – A Rest That Transforms

    Rest in the Rock – A Rest That Transforms

    In Part 1 of this series, we explored the idea of finding true rest in God alone. In Part 2, we looked at what it means to trust in God amid the pressures of life. Now, in this concluding post, we turn our attention to how resting in the Rock transforms us—not just offering relief but reshaping how we live, think, and step through the world.

    Psalm 62 doesn’t simply speak of rest as a static concept, like sitting on the couch after a long day. Instead, it invites us into a dynamic relationship with God—a rest that reshapes our priorities, grows resilience, and reframes how we engage with the world.

    A Rest That Reshapes Priorities

    It is written in Psalm 62:11-12:

    One thing God has spoken, two things I have heard:
    ‘Power belongs to you, God, and with you, Lord, is unfailing love’;
    and, ‘You reward everyone according to what they have done.’

    Here we see a contrast: God is mighty and loving. His strength speaks to his stability, while his love invites us into relationship. When we rest in God we see life differently. Our priorities shift. Power, wealth, and status lose its allure because we understand that only God will satisfy.  

    There has been told the story of a man who worked hard to climb the corporate ladder. He had everything—position, wealth, influence, power—but at the peak of his career, he found himself empty. One day, during an unplanned visit to a small country church, he heard the words of Matthew 16:26, “What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” 

    In that moment his heart was convicted. The words stopped him in his tracks. He realised those things he’d been striving for were fragile and fleeting. Change didn’t come overnight, but slowly he had a shift in focus. He spent more time with his family, he had a new depth of relationship with God. He began to serve others rather than himself. His soul found rest, not in what he achieved but in whom he trusted. 

    A Rest That Grows Resilience

    Rest in God isn’t passive; it is active and brings with it a sense of hope. In Jeremiah 17:7-8 we are given a picture of a tree planted by a stream. It says, 

    But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green.

    The pressures of life, like uncertainty, grief, and stress, don’t suddenly disappear when we rest in God. Like that tree, however, we are given life and hope and nourishment that comes from a deep well. We are given greater resilience and allows us to face these challenges without breaking, snapping, or losing all hope.  

    When we rest in God we find that our we are refined like gold with fire. Instead of being unable to hope and unable to cope we are given deep resources by grace. His grace. For us. A grace that comes from resting in the Rock. 

    A Rest That Reframes Our Life

    So resting in this Rock doesn’t mean we will abandon all responsibilities and become monks or nuns. Instead, we approach these responsibilities of life with a different frame of mind. In Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus invites us to take his yoke upon us. Now, a yoke is a tool, not a device to help us lounge around, and it is to be used in partnership with another. When Jesus speaks of his yoke being easy and his burden light it is because he is the partner who carries the weight. Much of our baggage is not ours to carry, and so Jesus is there with us taking it upon himself. Just like he took our sins and burdens upon himself at the cross, so too he carries our daily worries and anxieties to help us rest. When we rest in Jesus, our life becomes less about proving ourselves and more about walking in step with him.

    As someone who enjoys ticking things off the to-do list, it’s easy to fall into the trap of measuring my worth by what I’ve done. When I take time to rest in God though, well, my life and perspective is different. I recognise it is by his grace, and I can say ‘no’ to certain things, and ‘yes’ to other things that seem to me to be right priorities. 

    Resting in God is not an escape from life but a way of being that transforms everything we do. It reshapes our priorities, grows our resilience, and reframes our lives. It’s not about doing less but about trusting more. And in that trust, we find a rest that satisfies our souls and empowers our lives.

  • Rest in the Rock – Trusting God in the Pressure Cooker of Life

    Rest in the Rock – Trusting God in the Pressure Cooker of Life

    We live in a world that celebrates busyness and productivity, yet many of us feel burned out and empty. Sometimes we feel like we’re barely holding it together. All these demands on our time and on our life stack up, and no matter how hard you try to push through, telling yourself it’ll be easier once this season of busyness is over, the pressure doesn’t ease. 

    In working through Psalm 62 we don’t find a quick fix or productivity hacks, but we find something deeper, something that speaks into this reality: rest in the refuge of God. 

    In my last post we explored the idea of finding our true rest in God alone, using the phrase ‘Rest in the Rock’ as somewhat of a reminder of this. Flowing on from this we find Psalm 62 helpful as we navigate the pressure cooker of life, reminding us that trusting in God as our refuge provides rest for us. 

    The Pressure Cooker

    Over Summer, here in Melbourne, we’ve already had plenty of days that have hit 30 degrees or more. Days where the heat is sapping our energy, where if we’re out in the heat of the day for too long we are drained more than usual and only find relief in our iced drinks air conditioned living rooms. It sometimes surprises us that a heatwave, even a couple of days in a row, can bring on a sense of weariness. 

    The psalmist David captures this kind of weariness in Psalm 62 when he writes, 

    Surely the lowborn are but a breath, the highborn are but a lie. If weighed on a balance, they are nothing; together they are only a breath. (Psalm 62:9)

    If we’re honest this verse can be a bit of a downer. It gives a picture of the fleeting life. No matter our position or status, no matter the things we chase after like wealth, recognition, and achievement, it’ll all be gone. It’s the same for all.  

    When we are faced with a heatwave we go searching for shade or a cool room. When we are inside with the blinds drawn, or under the air conditioner, or even in the pool, the sun is still there. The heat is still there. What those things do is shield us and offer us relief. This is what it means to take refuge in God. It doesn’t mean the pressure of life will vanish, but he gives our soul a place to breathe, to rest, to cool down again. 

    The False Refuge

    But, when the pressures of life stack up, one upon another, we don’t always run to God first. Often we turn to those temporary comforts. 

    These days it’s most likely going to be scrolling through social media or playing around on our phones. But it could go the other way, being focussed so much on work or picking up a project that stops us from being involved in others responsibilities in life. These ‘refuges’ dull that heatwave of pressure but leave us just as empty as before. 

    In v10 the psalmist warns about these false refuges when he writes, 

    Do not trust in extortion or put vain hope in stolen goods; though your riches increase, do not set your heart on them. (Psalm 62:10)

    I doubt most of us are engaging in extortion or stealing or fraud, but the bigger point is about what we put our trust in. Whether it is money, status, performance, or distraction, these things are not given to us to sustain us. In fact, they are as fleeting as our own lives. Our search for rest and fulfilment in these things soon become as exhausting as the other pressures of life.

    God Our Refuge

    Instead, Psalm 62 offers up a better way.

    Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. (Psalm 62:8)

    We have here an invitation into an honest relationship with God. 

    It’s funny how we often put aside our raw and honest selves, hiding those things deep within our hearts to God. He knows them anyway, but something about the sin and brokenness of our soul makes us shield ourselves from the guilt and shame we know sits there. We’d like to present polished versions of ourselves to God, but instead we’re like Adam and Eve just after they’ve eaten from the forbidden tree, hiding our true selves from the God who loves us so. 

    God, after all, is the only refuge in life that we can come to in total abandon. He is the one who will hear us, have compassion and kindness toward us, when we ‘pour out our hearts’ to him. Like a dam that must release the overflow, our hearts full of the pressures of life are invited to release and freedom when we acknowledge our trust in him. 

    Rest In Jesus

    This theme of refuge finds its fulfilment in Jesus. In Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus gives this powerful invitation:

    Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

    This is the kind of rest we need—not just relief from our circumstances but a deep, soul-level peace that comes from knowing we are held by him who loves us.

    Jesus doesn’t promise to remove life’s pressures, but he does offer to walk with us through them. When we trust him as our refuge, we find freedom from striving to prove our worth or control everything ourselves.

    Psalm 62 reminds us that our true refuge is in God. He is the shade in the heat, and the rest our souls long for.

  • Clear the Clutter: Steps to Simplify Your Life and Focus on Faith

    Clear the Clutter: Steps to Simplify Your Life and Focus on Faith

    Where can you reduce clutter in your life?

    So much of life fills up, doesn’t it?  

    Our homes, our schedules, and even our minds can start to feel crammed with things that don’t belong—things that weigh us down instead of lifting us up. Clutter creeps in slowly, often unnoticed, until one day we find ourselves overwhelmed, out of focus, and running on empty.

    But what if clearing out the clutter could make more space for what truly matters? What if it’s not just about tidying up but about making room for God to work in and through us?

    When tackling clutter we might consider the physical, mental, and spiritual areas of life. 

    1. Your Physical Space

    It’s common for the environment around us to shape how we feel and function. Whether it’s your kitchen bench, your wardrobe, or that drawer stuffed with everything from rubber bands to old receipts, physical clutter can weigh you down.

    Jesus told his disciples, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth… but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven” (Matthew 6:19-20). While he wasn’t talking about organising your pantry, the principle underneath this is that our physical space, like our homes, are places to reflect kingdom priorities, not consumerist ones.

    Simplifying your space can free your energy to focus on what matters most.

    2. Your Schedule

    One of the great lies culture tells us is that busyness equals importance. But constant activity doesn’t make us more faithful or fruitful—it just makes us tired and exhausted.

    Paul writes in Ephesians 5:15-16, “Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity.” Making the most of every opportunity doesn’t mean cramming your calendar with commitments; it means being intentional about where your time goes.

    I regularly look at my schedule to make sure I’ve said “yes” to the important things and align the week to my priorities. It’s not easy when there are so many options and things to do, but sometimes we need to clear the clutter in our diaries so we have time and space for what God is calling us to do. 

    3. Your Mind

    Clutter isn’t just about stuff; it’s about the noise in your head—the to-do lists, the comparisons, the worries. It’s easy to let your thoughts spiral into overwhelm, but Scripture gives us a different way.

    “Do not be conformed to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2). Renewing your mind means filtering out the distractions and lies, and filling your thoughts with God’s truth instead.

    Start small. Take five minutes at the start or end of your day to sit quietly with God. Pray, journal, or meditate on Scripture. Over time, this discipline will help clear the mental clutter and create space for his peace to settle in.

    4. Your Spiritual Life

    Finally, consider where spiritual clutter might be crowding out your relationship with Jesus. This might look like going through the motions in your faith or holding onto things that keep you from walking closely with Him.

    Hebrews 12:1 encourages us to “throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” What’s holding you back? Are there habits, distractions, or misplaced priorities you need to surrender to God?

    Clearing spiritual clutter doesn’t mean adding more “holy” activities to your week. It’s about returning to the basics—prayer, Scripture, and worship—and letting God reorder your heart.

    Clearing Clutter for the Kingdom

    At its core, reducing clutter isn’t about perfection; it’s about purpose. It’s about removing the distractions that pull our hearts away from God so we can live with intention and freedom.

    So where can you begin? Pick one area—your home, your schedule, your thoughts, or your spiritual walk—and ask God to help you clear what’s unnecessary. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it. As we make space, we open ourselves up to the life Jesus promised: one of peace, joy, and fullness in him.

  • Rest in the Rock – Rediscovering True Rest

    Rest in the Rock – Rediscovering True Rest

    Rest.

    It’s most likely different for all of us. For some, it is sinking into the couch at the end of a long day; for others, it’s going to a favourite cafe for a quiet coffee, or perhaps it’s just a moment to catch your breath in between all those tasks to do.

    If we’re honest, many of us aren’t great at resting. Even when we try, our minds race with unfinished tasks, or we find ourselves turning to distractions that promise rest but leave us feeling just as drained.

    Challenging Our Restlessness

    After a recent pastoral retreat with our team, Psalm 62 has become a bit of a motto for me this year. It’s a psalm about rest—not the kind you get from a good night’s sleep, but the deep, soul-level rest that comes from trusting in God. It challenges us to rethink what rest really means and to ask some deeper questions, like:

    • What is driving me to avoid rest?
    • Why do I keep going and going without stopping?

    Psalm 62 doesn’t offer tips or techniques for resting better. Instead, it points us to the source of true rest—God Himself. The refrain that keeps going around my head is ‘Rest in the Rock’, which, as you’ll see, is a key theme that comes through this psalm.

    Rest in the Rock

    Psalm 62 begins with a declaration:

    Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him.  Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken. (Psalm 62:1-2)

    These verses set the tone for the whole psalm. Rest isn’t about doing nothing or escaping life’s pressures. It’s about where we place our trust. The psalmist is clear: true rest is only found in God.

    The image of God as a rock, a fortress, and a refuge runs throughout Scripture. It’s a picture of stability, strength, and security. I think of birds nesting in the crevices of a cliff face during a storm, safe from the wind and rain. Or rabbits darting into their burrows when danger is near. These animals instinctively know where to go for refuge. But for us, it’s not always so simple.

    When life gets overwhelming, or gets busy, we often look for comfort in all the wrong places. This can be zoning out in front of the TV, scrolling endlessly on our phones, or chasing achievements to prove our worth. These things might give us a momentary escape, but they don’t provide the deep rest our souls need.

    Psalm 62 calls us to a different kind of refuge:

    Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. (Psalm 62:8)

    True rest comes from trusting God with the pressures of life. It means pouring out our hearts to Him—our worries, fears, and frustrations—and finding in Him the security and peace we’re looking for.

    But why is this so hard? Why do we resist the very rest we know we need?

    The psalmist speaks about the pressures of life and the distractions of the world in a few ways:

    • The pursuit of power and status (v9).
    • The lure of wealth and possessions (v10).
    • The fear of what others think or say about us (v3-4).

    These things promise satisfaction but leave us restless. As Augustine famously wrote:

    “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.”

    Where Do You Find Your Rest?

    Where are you seeking rest outside of God? What is driving your busyness or your need to keep going?

    I’ve been exploring this more honestly with myself over the last 12–18 months. There have been seasons, and no doubt there will be more, where I have sought refuge in productivity, trying to prove my worth by how much I could accomplish. As I continue to be honest with myself, I am constantly tempted to put my trust in my own efficiency. But Psalm 62 reminds me that my salvation, my identity, and my rest depend on God, not on anything I do.

    Perhaps this is just a word for myself as I step into this year. Perhaps it is also a word for you, as you try and deal with the overwhelm.