Devotionals

The Difficult Work of Christian Restoration

/ pastorlynnmalone / 2 Comments

Every person carries burdens. Some arrive through no fault of our own—a diagnosis, a death, a job loss, a broken relationship, a season of grief. The church is often at its best when those burdens appear. We show up with meals, prayers, financial assistance, and a steady presence. We do what we can to make sure no one carries the weight alone.

But there is another kind of burden we discuss less easily: the weight created by our own sin.

That burden may include guilt, shame, damaged trust, consequences we cannot escape, and the hard work of repentance. What does a Spirit-formed community do when someone has made a terrible decision? Do we stand back and explain why they fell? Make an example of them? Discuss their failure with everyone except them? Decide that their worst decision is the truest thing about them and leave them beneath its weight?

Or do we help them stand again?

Restoration Requires Truth and Gentleness

Paul answers that question in Galatians 6, immediately after describing the fruit of the Spirit. After naming love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, he writes:

“Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.”

Then Paul turns directly to the person caught in sin:

“Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently.”

Conceited people provoke, compare, condemn, and keep their distance. Spirit-formed people move toward the fallen with gentleness. One way to measure whether the Spirit is forming us is by examining how we respond to someone else’s failure.

Paul does not tell us to excuse the sin, pretend it never happened, call evil good, or remove every consequence. He tells us to restore the person—and to do it gently. The word translated restore was used for mending a torn net or setting a broken bone. Restoration is careful work because the person is already wounded. Even a self-inflicted wound can be made worse by careless hands. Gentleness is not weakness, and it does not require us to avoid the truth. Setting a broken bone requires us to tell the truth about what is broken. But that truth must be handled by hands committed to healing rather than humiliation.

Get Beneath the Burden

Paul continues:

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

We often separate this instruction from the verse before it and apply it only to illness, grief, or financial hardship. Those applications are right, but Paul’s immediate context is the person caught in sin. The guilt, shame, damaged relationships, and difficult road back to faithfulness are also burdens the church is called to help carry. Burden-bearing means walking with another person even through their worst decisions. It means saying:

“You have made a terrible decision. I will not pretend otherwise. But I will not abandon you beneath the weight of it. We will walk through this together.”

That kind of presence is messy and costly. It is much easier to offer advice from a distance than to get beneath the load. But when we bear another person’s burden, we embody grace. We remind the fallen that repentance is possible, forgiveness is real, consequences do not mean abandonment, and their worst decision does not have to have the final word.

Peter made a terrible decision. After promising that he would never abandon Jesus, he denied Him three times. The risen Christ did not pretend the denial never happened. On the seashore, Jesus asked Peter three times, “Do you love Me?” He brought Peter back to face his failure—not to humiliate him, but to restore him.

“Feed My sheep. Follow Me.”

Truth. Grace. Restoration. Discipleship. Jesus refused to let Peter’s worst decision have the final word.

Restore the Person, Not Necessarily the Position

Paul says, “Carry each other’s burdens,” and then, only a few sentences later, “Each one should carry their own load.” The first word can describe a crushing weight; the second points to personal responsibility. There are burdens we must help one another carry, but there are also responsibilities each person must bear before God.

Burden-bearing does not mean taking responsibility for someone else’s choices. We cannot repent for them, force them to tell the truth, manufacture humility, or perform the work of obedience on their behalf. We can walk beside them, pray, listen, speak truth, establish boundaries, and help them identify the next faithful step—but they must take it.

This distinction becomes especially important when the person once occupied a position of responsibility. In recent years, the serious moral failures of several prominent pastors have become public. Churches have then debated whether those pastors should be “restored to ministry.” But Galatians 6 tells us to restore the person. It does not necessarily tell us to restore the position.

Our task is not to rescue a career, recover a platform, or repair a reputation. It is to help the person bring the burden to Christ and return to faithful fellowship with Him and His church. Sometimes the clearest evidence of restoration is the humility to live faithfully without the former platform.

The goal is not to return people to prominence. It is to return them to faithfulness.

Restoration Is a Field We Cultivate

Paul then turns to the principle of sowing and reaping: “A man reaps what he sows.” In the larger context, he is speaking about the whole life of faithfulness, but his words certainly apply to the slow work of restoration. Restoration is hard, patient cultivation. Like a garden, the ground must be prepared, seed must be planted, weeds must be pulled, and the gardener must keep showing up and then wait.

Long conversations, intentional prayer, uncomfortable truths, patient listening, clear boundaries, practical assistance, and consistent presence are the implements of restoration. We cannot sow a few words of advice and expect an immediate harvest. Restoration is a field we cultivate, not a moment we announce. We cannot force the harvest, and the person being restored remains responsible for how they respond. Progress may be uneven. Setbacks may come. That is why Paul writes:

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

The church should be the place where sin is taken seriously but fallen people are not discarded—where truth confronts us, grace carries us, and love helps us stand again. That does not mean every relationship returns to what it was, every position is restored, or every consequence disappears. It means no person is reduced to the worst thing they have ever done, and we keep believing that the grace of Jesus can still produce a harvest of faithfulness.

Jesus did not stand at a distance and explain the burden of our sin. He came near, got beneath its weight, and carried it to the cross.

The self-righteous stand above the fallen. The followers of Jesus get beneath the burden.

We are not called to return people to prominence. We are called to return people to faithfulness. And we do not abandon people beneath the weight of their worst decisions.

Until next time, keep looking up…

If any of my reflections encouraged or challenged you, follow Not the Perfect Pastor on Facebook for more conversations about faith, ministry, and becoming faithful disciples of Jesus.

Forgiveness and Healing: Grace Is Greater Than the Wound

/ pastorlynnmalone / Leave a comment

When someone wounds us, something inside us begins keeping an account.

They owe me an apology. They owe me an explanation. They owe me the years I lost. They owe me the innocence they took. They owe me the trust they destroyed. They owe me for the humiliation, grief, or pain they caused.

Some of those debts are real. Forgiveness does not say otherwise.

But forgiveness does determine what we will do with the debt.

Paul writes in Ephesians 4:32, “Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”

The word Paul uses for “forgiving” is charizomai. It comes from the same root as charis, the word we translate as grace. It can mean to give freely, to grant graciously, or to forgive.

Forgiveness, in Paul’s language, is grace in relational form.

It is not primarily a feeling. If we wait until we feel like forgiving, we may wait for the rest of our lives. Forgiveness is a grace-shaped decision concerning what we will do with the debt created by another person’s sin against us.

We decide that we will not spend the rest of our lives trying to collect that debt through bitterness, retaliation, humiliation, or revenge. We release our personal claim to make the other person suffer as payment for what they did, and we place justice into the hands of God.

That does not mean all earthly consequences disappear. It does not mean a crime should go unreported, restitution should never be made, or accountability should be abandoned. Grace and accountability are not enemies. Forgiveness simply means that I refuse to make revenge the organizing purpose of my life.

Forgiveness Tells the Truth

We need to speak carefully about forgiveness because, in our hurry to tell hurting people they need to forgive, Christians have sometimes failed to acknowledge how deeply they were wounded.

Forgiveness is not denying that the wound happened. It is not minimizing the seriousness of the offense. It is not calling evil good. It is not excusing the offender by saying, “They couldn’t help it,” or “It really wasn’t that bad.”

Forgiveness is not forgetting. We sometimes say, “Forgive and forget,” as though faithful Christians should be able to erase painful memories. Human minds do not work that way, and Scripture does not command spiritual amnesia. Some experiences leave marks that remain for a lifetime.

Forgiveness does not automatically restore trust. Forgiveness can be given; trust must be rebuilt through truth, repentance, consistency, and time. Reconciliation may not always be possible, and forgiveness never requires someone to remain in an abusive or unsafe relationship.

Forgiveness does not eliminate consequences. A forgiven person may still lose a position, face legal consequences, or live with a permanently changed relationship. Grace does not erase wisdom, boundaries, accountability, or justice.

These distinctions matter because some people carry not only the pain of what was done to them but also the shame of believing their continued pain proves they have failed to forgive.

Healing is not always immediate. Forgiveness may begin with a decisive act, but with a deep wound it may also require repeated surrender. We may have to place the same hurt into God’s hands more than once.

The capacity of grace to forgive never diminishes the depth of the wound.

Grace is able to tell the whole truth. It can say, “What happened was wrong. It hurt me. It changed something. There were consequences. I did not deserve it.” Grace can say all of that without allowing hatred to have the final word.

Look at the cross. God’s grace never treated sin as insignificant. At the cross, God named the horror of sin and revealed the depth of divine love at the same time. Grace tells the truth about sin—and then demonstrates that sin will not have the last word.

Grace Is Greater

When we say grace is greater than the wound, we are not comparing levels of pain. We are not telling someone, “Your wound should not matter because grace matters more.” We are saying that the sin committed against us does not possess greater power than the grace of Jesus Christ at work within us.

Grace does not make the wound smaller. Grace keeps the wound from becoming greater than Jesus Christ.

Paul does not begin with the person who hurt us, the size of the offense, or the strength of our willpower. He begins with what God has already done for us: “just as God through Christ has forgiven you.”

We do not forgive to earn grace. We forgive because we have received grace. Forgiveness is not the price we pay to be forgiven by God. It is the fruit produced in people who know how much they have already been forgiven.

Grace received becomes grace extended.

We love grace when it moves in our direction. We sing about the grace that forgives our sins and reconciles us to God. We are less enthusiastic when that same grace moves toward those who have wounded us. We want mercy to explain what we did and justice to define what they did. We want the Lord to remember our weakness but remember their wickedness.

Paul does not allow us to separate the grace we receive from the grace we extend. The grace that comes to us through Jesus Christ takes shape in the way we respond to one another.

That is why forgiveness reveals so much about our spiritual formation. It is possible to know the language of grace without being gracious. It is possible to explain forgiveness while refusing to forgive. It is possible to celebrate what Christ has done for us while resisting what Christ wants to do through us.

My capacity to forgive is directly related to the depth of my spiritual formation.

That statement is not intended to shame anyone struggling to forgive. Some wounds are extraordinarily deep, and the path of healing may be long. The struggle itself may become the place where we learn to depend upon grace more deeply than ever before.

If grace is greater than my sin, then grace is greater than the sin of the person who wounded me. And if grace is greater than the sin that wounded me, then grace is greater than the wound that sin left behind.

If grace is greater than my sin, then grace is greater than my wound.

What Is Discipling Us?

The pain of a wound is not an idol, and feeling that pain is not a spiritual failure. But a wound begins to occupy the place that belongs to Christ when it defines who we are, determines how we see others, dictates our decisions, and claims authority over our future.

Before long, we are no longer simply remembering the wound. We are allowing the wound to disciple us.

The wound may be part of my story, but grace refuses to let it become the author of my story. Forgiveness does not rewrite the past. It places the future back into the hands of Jesus.

Nearly thirty years ago, I pastored a church where two men lived in the same community, worked for the same company, and worshiped in the same congregation. Somewhere along the way, a work-related offense created a division between them. I do not remember all the details, and after all these years the details are not really the point.

What I remember is that they never found their way through it.

They continued attending the same church, but they sat on opposite sides of the sanctuary. Week after week, they worshiped the same Lord, heard the same Scriptures, and received the same grace—but the division remained between them.

Both men have now died. I do not tell their story to judge their hearts. Only God knows everything that passed between them. I tell it because their story has stayed with me.

They had moved on with their lives, but it appeared that something between them had never been surrendered to the transforming grace of Jesus Christ.

That is the danger of an unforgiven wound. Life continues. We go to work. We come to church. We sing the hymns and listen to the sermon. From the outside, it may appear that we have moved on. Yet the wound may still be deciding where we sit, whom we avoid, and how far the grace we have received will be allowed to travel through us.

Is there someone I need to forgive? Is there a wound I need to surrender again? Is there a division I have learned to live with that Jesus is calling me to address?

Forgiveness may not restore every relationship. It may not remove every consequence or erase every painful memory. But it refuses to let what happened to us become more powerful in shaping our lives than what Christ has done for us.

The wound may be part of your story, but don’t let it write the ending.

Give Jesus back the pen.

Until next time, keep looking up…

If any of my reflections encouraged or challenged you, follow Not the Perfect Pastor on Facebook for more conversations about faith, ministry, and becoming faithful disciples of Jesus.

Christian Encouragement Is More Than Making Us Feel Better

/ pastorlynnmalone / Leave a comment

We usually hear the word encouragement and think of kind words that lift our spirits. There is nothing wrong with that. We all need people who will speak hope into our lives. A timely word can sometimes make the difference between giving up and taking the next step.

But Christian encouragement is more than helping people feel better.

If encouragement only tells us things that make us feel better but fails to tell us things that actually make us better, then it is not Christian encouragement.

Christian encouragement helps us remain faithful to Jesus. Sometimes it comforts us. Sometimes it reminds us of what is true when our circumstances have caused us to forget. Sometimes it challenges us and calls us back when we begin to wander.

It says, “Keep going. Don’t give up. Christ is faithful. You are not alone, and we are going to walk this road together.”

That kind of encouragement can only happen in community.

Holding on Together

The Christians who first received the letter to the Hebrews were growing weary. Life had become harder. Opposition was real. Some were starting to pull back from the community. Some were neglecting the gathering. A few may have been quietly wondering whether it was still worth holding on.

The writer does not scold them for being tired. He points them again to Jesus. Then he tells them how to respond:

“Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep his promise.” Hebrews 10:23 (NLT)

Notice the language. He does not say, “Let ‘me’ hold tightly.” He says, “Let us hold tightly.”

Faith is personal, but it is never private. Each of us must trust Christ. No one else can believe or surrender to Christ for us. But we hold tightly to hope together.

There will be times when your faith is strong and the faith of the person beside you is weak. There will also be times when their faith is strong and yours is weak. That is one reason God gives us to one another.

Imagine that you and a friend are hiking on a steep trail. Your friend slips and begins to slide backward. You do not simply shout, “Hang in there!” You plant your feet, reach down, and take hold. For a moment, both of you feel the pull of the drop. But because you refuse to let go, your friend finds solid footing again.

Christian encouragement is like that. Sometimes we are the ones doing the holding. Other times we are the ones who need to be held. Christ holds us, and he has given us to one another so that we can hold on together.

Our hope is not wishful thinking or the belief that everything will work out the way we want. Our hope rests in the character of God. We hold tightly because God can be trusted.

When I cannot see what God is doing, you can remind me that God is faithful. When you wonder whether God has forgotten you, I can remind you of his promises. When one of us grows weary, others can help carry the weight.

That is how we encourage one another with hope.

Encouragement Is Not the Same as Approval

The writer continues:

“Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works.” Hebrews 10:24 (NLT)

Encouragement is intentional. It requires us to pay attention to one another. We cannot encourage people we never notice. We cannot help carry burdens we know nothing about. We cannot motivate one another toward love and good works if our only concern is our own spiritual life.

We are accountable to Christ, but we are also accountable to one another.

We have a difficult time with accountability. Part of that comes from our individualism. Part of it comes from not wanting to hurt someone’s feelings. We would rather remain silent than risk an uncomfortable conversation. And part of it comes from believing that another person’s life is none of our business.

But if we belong to the Church together, then it is our business to love one another. It is our business to care when someone is hurting. It is our business to notice when someone is wandering. It is our business to confront sin, brokenness, and division, not because we want to control one another, but because we love one another.

John Wesley described this responsibility as “watching over one another in love.”

That does not mean spying, constantly looking for faults, or using religion to control another person. It means caring enough about another person’s faithfulness that we refuse to remain indifferent.

When I begin to wander, I need someone who loves me enough to call me back. When I become discouraged, I need someone to remind me of the faithfulness of God. When I begin making excuses for behavior that damages my relationship with Christ or harms others, I need someone who will tell me the truth in love.

That is encouragement too.

We sometimes confuse encouragement with approval. But Christian encouragement is not concerned merely with making us comfortable. It is concerned with helping us become faithful.

The question is not simply, “What can I say to make this person happy?” The deeper question is, “What does this person need from me to help them remain faithful to Jesus?”

Sometimes the answer will be comfort, prayer, practical help, or a reminder of God’s promises. Sometimes it will be a difficult truth spoken with humility, gentleness, and love.

Your Presence Matters

Finally, the writer says:

“And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of his return is drawing near.” Hebrews 10:25 (NLT)

We often use this verse to tell people they ought to attend church. That is certainly part of what the writer is saying, but his concern goes deeper than filling seats in a building. He is telling us that we need one another.

We sometimes approach worship as consumers. We ask whether we enjoyed the music, whether the sermon spoke to us, whether the service met our needs, or whether we got anything out of it.

But we do not come to worship only to receive. We come to give.

We give our praise to God. We give our prayers, presence, gifts, strength, service, and encouragement to the community. Everyone has something to offer the Body of Christ.

Even when you arrive tired, discouraged, grieving, or spiritually empty, your presence may encourage someone else. Seeing you continue to trust God during a difficult season may give another person the courage to keep trusting too.

That is why withdrawing from Christian community is so dangerous. We lose more than an hour of worship. We lose the voices that remind us of hope. We lose the accountability that motivates us toward faithfulness. We lose the encouragement that helps us keep going.

And the community loses something too. It loses what we were meant to bring.

Someone needs your presence. Someone needs your prayers. Someone needs your words of hope. Someone needs you to speak the truth in love. Someone needs the example of your quiet, steady faithfulness.

And whether you realize it or not, you need those same things from them.

So here is the question I am asking myself:

Am I helping the people around me remain faithful to Jesus?

Identify one person you can encourage this week. Call them. Text them. Invite them for coffee. Listen to them. Remind them of what is true. If necessary, help them regain their footing.

Christian encouragement gives hope to those who are weary. It motivates us toward love and good works. It reminds us that we do not walk alone.

Let us hold tightly to hope. Let us think about one another. Let us gather faithfully. And let us encourage one another.

Until next time, keep looking up…

If any of my reflections encouraged or challenged you, follow Not the Perfect Pastor on Facebook for more conversations about faith, ministry, and becoming faithful disciples of Jesus.

Living the Lord’s Prayer

/ pastorlynnmalone / Leave a comment

I’ve prayed the Lord’s Prayer for most of my life.

Like many Christians, I learned it as a child. Over the years I’ve prayed it in worship services, hospital rooms, funeral homes, around dinner tables, and in quiet moments when I didn’t quite know what else to say.

I’ve also preached it more than once. Whenever I preached it, I usually approached it the way many pastors do—taking each petition and showing how it can guide our own prayers. That’s a good approach. In fact, I still believe it’s a biblical one.

But this past week, while preparing to preach from Matthew 6, I noticed something I had never fully appreciated before. Matthew doesn’t place the Lord’s Prayer in a book about prayer. He places it in the middle of the Sermon on the Mount. That matters.

The Sermon on the Mount is Jesus’ description of life in the Kingdom of God. It’s where He teaches what His disciples look like, how they treat others, what they value, where they place their treasure, and how they trust the Father. Right in the middle of that teaching, Jesus says, “This, then, is how you should pray…”

It made me wonder: What if Jesus wasn’t only teaching His disciples what to say when they prayed? What if He was also showing them the kind of life they were to live?

Read through the Lord’s Prayer again with that thought in mind.

It begins in the Father’s presence: “Our Father in heaven…”

Before there are requests, there is relationship.

Then it turns to the Father’s priorities: “Hallowed be Your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done.” Before Jesus teaches us to pray about our needs, He teaches us to care about what matters to the Father.

Only then do our needs enter the conversation: “Give us this day our daily bread… Forgive us… Lead us not into temptation… Deliver us from evil.”

The entire prayer moves from the Father’s presence to the Father’s priorities, then to the Father’s provision and protection. That’s more than a model for prayer. It’s also a pattern for life.

The more I reflected on it, another realization dawned on me. Jesus didn’t simply teach the Lord’s Prayer. He lived it.

He lived continually in His Father’s presence. He sought His Father’s glory above His own. He proclaimed the Father’s Kingdom. He surrendered to the Father’s will—even in Gethsemane. He trusted the Father for daily provision. He resisted every temptation. And through His death and resurrection, He became the forgiveness and deliverance we could never achieve for ourselves.

Suddenly, the Lord’s Prayer looked less like a script to memorize and more like a portrait of Jesus Himself. And that’s good news.

The goal of the Christian life isn’t merely to pray better prayers. It’s to become more like Christ. By His Spirit, Jesus is forming His own life in us. As He does, the Lord’s Prayer becomes more than words we recite. It becomes a life we live.

The next time you pray the Lord’s Prayer, don’t rush through familiar words. Pause. Listen. Receive it as an invitation—not only to speak with your Father, but to live as His child.

Don’t just pray the Lord’s Prayer.

Live it.

Until next time, keep looking up…

The Danger Behind a Long Prayer

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I grew up believing that long prayers were better prayers.

The person who could pray the longest usually sounded the most spiritual. Sometimes those prayers were sincere. Sometimes they were beautiful. And sometimes, if I’m honest, they became performances. I’ve prayed some of those prayers myself.

As a pastor, I know how easy it is to slip into that trap. Standing in front of a congregation with every eye closed and every ear listening, it’s tempting to begin talking more to the people than to God. Before long, a prayer can become another sermon. Or worse, an opportunity to sound spiritual.

Jesus never condemned long prayers. In fact, He prayed through the night on more than one occasion. The problem isn’t the length of the prayer. The problem is the motive behind it.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus warned His disciples:

“When you pray, don’t be like the hypocrites. They love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by people…” (Matthew 6:5)

Notice what Jesus doesn’t say. He doesn’t say public prayer is wrong. Jesus prayed publicly. The early church prayed publicly. Christians have gathered for prayer together for two thousand years. Neither does He say long prayers are wrong. Instead, He exposes something much deeper.

The problem wasn’t where they prayed. The problem was why they prayed.

The word “hypocrite” originally described an actor wearing a mask on a stage. These weren’t people who didn’t pray. They prayed. The problem was that they had confused their audience.

I’ve often said it this way:

The audience determines the prayer.

If my audience is the congregation, I’ll be concerned with how my words sound. If my audience is God, I’ll be concerned with speaking honestly.

That raises an uncomfortable question. Who am I trying to impress? That question doesn’t just apply to public prayer. It reaches into every part of our spiritual lives. Why do I serve? Why do I give? Why do I post Bible verses online? Why do I volunteer? Why do I pray?

Jesus isn’t trying to make us suspicious of public expressions of faith. He’s inviting us into something better. Prayer was never meant to be a performance. It was always meant to be a conversation with our Father. That’s why, just a few verses later, Jesus reminds His disciples:

“Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (Matthew 6:8)

Think about that for a moment. You don’t have to impress a Father who already knows you. You don’t have to convince a Father who already loves you. You don’t have to perform for a Father who already knows your heart.

The most beautiful prayers are rarely the most polished. They’re simply honest. And that’s the kind of prayer your Father has wanted all along.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Developing Devotion…

/ pastorlynnmalone / Leave a comment

What the Early Church Can Teach Us About Daily Spiritual Formation

Someone once said, “The problem with life is that it happens so daily.” The same is true of spiritual formation. It rarely arrives in one dramatic moment. It happens daily. And it is that daily work of spiritual formation that equips us to obey Jesus when ordinary life happens.

Right after Pentecost, the Holy Spirit falls, Peter preaches, and three thousand people are added to the church in a single day. What happens next? Do they drift back to business as usual? No. Luke tells us:

“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.” (Acts 2:42, NIV)

What Is Devotion?

The key word is devoted—in the original Greek, proskartereō. It means to persist, to continue steadfastly, to hold fast. This is far more than casual interest or good intentions. It is wholehearted commitment.

We become what we repeatedly devote ourselves to. Everyone is devoted to something. The real question is not “Am I devoted?” but “To what am I devoted?”

Some of us are devoted to work—early mornings, late nights, minds always on the next thing. Others to family (a good thing), hunting, fishing, golf (though if you saw my golf game, you’d know I’m not devoted to that), shopping, or endless scrolling. None of these are inherently evil. But even good things can crowd out Christ if He is not shaping them.

Here is a truth I’ve wrestled with: Crisis doesn’t create our devotion—it reveals what we’ve been devoted to all along.

Luke doesn’t leave us guessing. He shows us exactly what captured the devotion of that first Spirit-filled church.

What Does Devotion Look Like?

They devoted themselves to four practices:

A. Devoted to the Apostles’ Teaching — Truth that Forms Us This was before the New Testament was written. They sat under the eyewitness testimony of Peter, John, Matthew, and others—hearing Jesus’ stories, parables, and commands directly.

The early church didn’t devote themselves to sharing opinions. They devoted themselves to receiving God’s truth.

We live in an age drowning in information but starving for transformation. The goal is not simply knowing more about Jesus. The goal is becoming more like Jesus.

B. Devoted to Fellowship (Koinonia) — People who Form Us This is far deeper than coffee and donuts after church. It’s shared life, shared burdens, and shared mission. Christianity is deeply personal but never private. The Gospel is a “we” proposition, not a “me” proposition.

There is no such thing as a solitary disciple. Jesus formed His followers in community, and He still does. That’s why the New Testament is filled with “one another” commands: confess sins to one another, bear with one another, encourage one another, forgive one another, spur one another on. Real koinonia looks like this.

C. Devoted to the Breaking of Bread — Grace that Forms Us This included ordinary meals together and the Lord’s Supper. The table became a place of remembrance, gratitude, equality, and belonging.

Spiritual formation doesn’t happen only in sanctuaries. It happens around tables. The early church was formed by sermons and suppers.

D. Devoted to Prayer — Dependence that Forms Us Prayer is not preparation for the work. Prayer is the work. The church born in prayer at Pentecost continued in prayer. A praying church knows it cannot form itself—it depends on the Holy Spirit.

How Is Devotion Lived Out?

Look at verse 46: “Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts.”

Spiritual formation is not an event or occasional inspiration. It is a daily rhythm. Life happens daily—discipleship must too.

Practically, this looks like:

  • Daily surrender
  • Daily prayer
  • Daily Scripture (sitting under teaching in our own time)
  • Daily connection with God’s people—a text, a call, a conversation, face-to-face when possible
  • Daily choosing obedience over convenience

These are not a magic formula. They are means of grace—ordinary ways we experience God and God reveals Himself to us. Spiritual disciplines.

The early disciples were not earning God’s grace through devotion. Their devotion was a response to the saving grace already given in Jesus Christ.

We need fewer rows of isolated spectators and more circles of people living life together, deepening devotion.

For me personally, this means shifting my morning drive to the shop. Instead of political podcasts that feed my cynicism, I need to choose silence and prayer so Jesus can form my heart first.

The Secret of the Early Church

The secret wasn’t talent, strategy, or programming. It was devotion—steadfast, day after day—to the apostles’ teaching, fellowship, the breaking of bread, and prayer. In the temple courts and house to house.

Truth formed their minds. Fellowship formed their relationships. The table formed their remembrance and gratitude. Prayer formed their dependence.

The same Holy Spirit who fell at Pentecost is with us right now. The question is not whether the Spirit is available. The question is whether we will devote ourselves to the things through which the Spirit forms us into the likeness of Jesus.

A Challenge

Choose one daily rhythm and shift it toward Christ: consistent time in Scripture and prayer, gathering with God’s people, meals around the table with glad hearts, or fresh daily surrender.

Take a quiet moment right now and ask: “What is forming me more than Jesus right now?”

What one rhythm needs to change so Christ shapes everything else?

If your calendar and habits were the only evidence, what would they say you are devoted to?

Let’s devote ourselves to what matters most. The Spirit who empowered them is ready to empower us.

What’s one rhythm you sense the Lord asking you to shift? Share in the comments—I read every one.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Just One More Hour…

/ pastorlynnmalone / Leave a comment

37 Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Simon,” he said to Peter, “are you asleep? Couldn’t you keep watch for one hour? (John 14:37 NIV)

One hour can make all the difference in the world.

Just ask anyone on that first Sunday morning after daylight saving time. Our bodies don’t adjust. We feel it all day long—and somehow, we never quite get it back.

Researchers even have a name for it: social jetlag. When our internal clocks and our external schedules don’t line up, everything feels off. We’re not just tired—we’re out of sync.

And that’s not just a physical reality. It’s a spiritual one, too.

We all know what it’s like to be “asleep” when we should be alert—whether from exhaustion, distraction, or just the weight of life.

In Mark 14, Jesus and His disciples face their own “one hour” moment in the Garden of Gethsemane. What we see there is the difference one hour can make—and two very different responses to it.

A Moment They Slept Through

It had been a long week.

Celebration. Conflict. Teaching. Travel. Late nights and heavy conversations. By the time they arrived in the garden after the Passover meal, the disciples were worn out—physically and spiritually.

Jesus asked them to do one simple thing: stay awake and pray.

But they couldn’t do it.

When Jesus returned, He found them sleeping and asked,
“Couldn’t you watch for one hour?”

The cross was on His mind—and they slept right through it.

That’s what makes this moment so sobering. The disciples didn’t fail because they were rebellious. They failed because they were tired.

And if we’re honest, that’s where many of us live.

We don’t intend to drift. We don’t plan to miss what matters most. But life wears us down, and before we know it, we’ve grown spiritually inattentive.

A Moment Jesus Leaned Into

While the disciples slept, Jesus prayed.

“My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death…
Abba, Father… take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” (Mark 14: 35-36)

This is one of the most honest and human moments we see in the life of Jesus.

He is overwhelmed. Distressed. Under immense pressure.

And yet—He doesn’t run from it. He brings it to the Father.

That’s what sets Jesus apart in this moment. Under pressure, He doesn’t withdraw—He surrenders.

And in that surrender, we see something we desperately need to understand:

Pressure is never pointless.

The garden itself reflects that truth. Gethsemane means “oil press”—a place where olives are crushed so that what’s inside can be released.

In the same way, it was under the crushing weight of this moment that Jesus fully surrendered to the will of the Father—and set in motion what would lead to our redemption.

God did not waste that moment.

And He doesn’t waste ours either.

What This Means for Us

There’s hope here—real hope.

First, it’s not a sin to be overwhelmed.

We sometimes think faith means always being strong, always being happy, always having it together. But Jesus shows us otherwise. He was overwhelmed—and still faithful.

Second, it’s not wrong to pray for deliverance.

Jesus prayed, more than once, “Take this cup from me.” Honest prayer is not weak faith—it’s real faith.

But here’s the key:

Prayer is not about getting what we want from God. It’s about finding the strength to walk in what God wants for us.

God is playing the long game, even when we’re looking for the shortcut.

And sometimes, the center of His will is not the most comfortable place—but it is always the best place.

When Your Hour Comes

If you haven’t faced your “one hour” moment yet—a season of pressure, grief, or testing—you will.

The question is not if that moment comes. The question is how you’ll respond when it does.

Will you face it asleep… or surrendered?

The good news is this: even if you’ve missed moments before—even if you’ve slept through seasons you wish you could redo—Jesus doesn’t leave you there.

He meets you with grace.

He calls you forward again.

He invites you back to faithfulness.

We may never get that lost hour back from daylight saving time.

But the hours we’ve missed spiritually?

Those are met with grace.

I think I’ll take the grace!

Until next time, keep looking up…

Jesus is Enough…

/ pastorlynnmalone / Leave a comment

We live in a world of plenty. I don’t think any of us living in the United States of America could legitimately argue otherwise, the frequent conversations centered around homelessness, poverty and food insecurity notwithstanding. Even the poorest among us are considered rich by the rest of the world’s standards. 

There are, however, signs around us that indicate even in this world of plenty, there is still something lacking, and that is truly sad. Those indicators are not tangible things like food, shelter, clothing and transportation. They’re much more intangible—things like identity, meaning, purpose and fulfillment. Dare I even say, “Salvation?” You know? All things that money can’t buy.

According to recent data from the National Alliance on Mental Illness and other sources, about 1 in 5 U.S. adults — over 60 million people — experience mental illness each year, with rising concerns around depression, anxiety, and suicide. This hits young people especially hard: Generation Z, despite unprecedented access to information via smartphones, reports some of the highest levels of mental health struggles among generations. We’ve experienced it in our own family, and it is heartbreaking.

Life is not a matter of having enough stuff. It’s a matter of having the right stuff. We can go through life achieving much success, status in our community, gaining financial security and all while being deeply sincere in our beliefs and our actions, and yet, we can still feel as though something is missing. That is a sad predicament, indeed!

A Rich Young Ruler

Lest I paint too grim a picture, though, let me remind us that there is nothing new under the sun. We’re not the first generation to wrestle with the nature of “stuff” and its impact on our lives. Remember that Jesus encountered a young man who came asking the deep question we’ve all asked at one time or another: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Mark’s record of the encounter begins this way:

As Jesus was starting out on his way to Jerusalem, a man came running up to him, knelt down, and asked, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (Mark 10:17 NLT)

This encounter is recorded in the three “synoptic” Gospels—Mark, Luke and Matthew. When we put all three accounts together we begin to get a clear picture of the young man. Yes, Mark only says a “man,” but Matthew makes the distinction that he is “young,” and Luke even includes that he is a “ruler” of sorts, so this has become “the story of the rich young ruler.”

I find it interesting that he was young, and like the young people of our day, he was struggling with a deep existential question. I mention Mark’s account because there is one detail that Mark gives us that I believe we need to note if we’re to grasp the meaning of the entire encounter. I’ll “circle back” to that detail momentarily.

What do we know about this young man? Well, from Luke’s gospel (Luke 18:18-30), we know he was rich. We assume it from Mark and Matthew (Matthew 19:16-26) because it says he had “great wealth.” Great wealth? From that, it is safe to assume that he had some measure of success in his life, although I suppose he could have inherited his wealth. Even if he did inherit it, we know that most children from wealthy families do pretty well on their own. Whether he inherited his wealth or was a successful businessman, his success brought him a measure of status in his community because Luke tells us he was a “ruler.”

It’s unlikely that a Roman official would approach Jesus with a religious question, so the “rich young ruler” was probably a Jewish leader in the local synagogue or perhaps even a member of the Sanhedrin, the Jewish court that dealt with religious issues in Jesus’ day.

Something is Missing

Success? Check. Status? Check. I think we can also say he was sincere. According to Mark, the man runs to Jesus and bows before Him. This was not some Jewish religious leadership set up of Jesus. No, this is not how they operated. In Mark’s gospel, the Scribes, Pharisees and Sadducees just show up and start questioning Jesus (see Mark 2 and Mark 7).

Mark says the man both ran and knelt indicating he was sincerely seeking wisdom and an answer to his question. But, we also learn of his sincerity in his keeping of the law. Listen to the conversation again:

17 As Jesus was starting out on his way to Jerusalem, a man came running up to him, knelt down, and asked, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” (That’s a sincere question)

18 “Why do you call me good?” Jesus asked. “Only God is truly good. 19 But to answer your question, you know the commandments: ‘You must not murder. You must not commit adultery. You must not steal. You must not testify falsely. You must not cheat anyone. Honor your father and mother’.”

20 “Teacher,” the man replied, “I’ve obeyed all these commandments since I was young.”

The young man was a sincere seeker after truth. By every account, here was a man that had success, status in the community and financial security who was truly sincere in matters of faith. He was a good man seeking to do the right thing and live a good life.

And yet, something was missing. All of that was not enough. Let me say it another way: This man had achieved all he could hope to achieve. It was not enough. He was lacking in a world of plenty. I wonder if we don’t often find ourselves in the same position? Could it be that we, like him, have everything the world says should be enough…yet still walk away empty?

Personally, as a businessman, I know how easy it is to depend on the balance sheet and the P&L statement to define success and my achievement. I did the same thing when I was in full-time ministry.

Success is the measure of a man. Sincerity is a gauge for our goodness. Both are far from reality. The truth is we want to be achievers, not believers. We think we can achieve our salvation, and we do so through success and sincerity. None of our achievements merit salvation. Even the most sincere among us can be sincerely wrong.

A Little Love Goes a Long Way

I love Jesus’s response to him. Here’s that little detail Mark includes, which is so unlike Mark. Mark is a “just the facts” kind of guy. Mark’s inclusion of this detail signifies (I think) its importance. Verse 21 says, “Looking at the man, Jesus felt genuine love for him.”

Genuine love! Jesus responded to him with love. It is in love that Jesus corrects us all, and it is in love that Jesus invites us all. 1 John 3:16 says, “We know what real love is because Jesus gave up His life for us.”

Jesus wasn’t angry with the man. Jesus heard the man’s question and saw the man’s need, so He responds, “Here’s what you lack…go sell your stuff…give it to the poor…come, follow Me” (Lynn paraphrase).

Here’s the sad part: Mark tells us the man went away sad because he had great wealth. Yes, he had stuff. He had success. He had status. He had security. He even had sincerity. The one thing he lacked? Surrender! The man just couldn’t let go.

Jesus uses the man’s departure as a teaching moment for His disciples. Jesus says, “Hey guys. Do you know how hard it is for a rich person to make it into the Kingdom? It’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich person to enter the Kingdom” (another Lynn paraphrase).

Let’s set aside the “camel and eye of the needle” for now. Focus on that and we miss the point. That’s called majoring in the minors. The point Jesus is teaching his disciples is the difficulty of anyone entering the Kingdom of God.

And, the disciples get the point! “If that’s the case, who can be saved?” It’s the same question the man was asking. So, Jesus brings the point home in verse 27: “Humanly speaking, it is impossible. But not with God. Everything is possible with God.”

And, there it is. The key to eternal life…for the man in the encounter…for the disciples…and ultimately, for us, too. Everything is possible with God!

Surrendering the Good for the Best

That which is missing for us who live in a land of plenty is surrender. Surrender to the Lordship of Christ. We’re all good people. We’re generally successful folks. Most of us have a good measure of financial security and we have sincerely sought to be good people…to do the right thing for the right reason. But we wonder, “Am I saved?” “Will I make it to the Kingdom?” There’s something unsettled in our spirits and we can’t quite put our finger on it.

Success. Status. Security. Sincerity. Those are all good things. Not a bad thing in the bunch. They are, however, not enough. One thing we lack: surrender.

The man loved good things more than he loved Jesus. There is the sin in this encounter. No, it wasn’t a sin that would make us go, “Oh! No! How could he?” Sin is much more subtle than that. It slips up on us and catches us unaware…so much so that we think it isn’t even sin.

The man kept the law. He wanted to keep control, too. Control rarely feels like control to us. It feels like responsibility. Yet, it kept him from following Jesus. What a shame. Letting a good thing keep him from the best thing.

Our success and our sincerity are never enough for our salvation. Salvation never comes until we surrender to Jesus. Surrender all the things that hinder us from following Him. There is no salvation apart from surrender. Don’t misunderstand me. Salvation is not a transaction. We are not saved because we surrender perfectly — we are saved because we trust the One who surrendered Himself for us. 

We hold in our grasp many great and wonderful things…things we’ve worked hard for…things we’ve attained. They mean a lot to us. They are good and wonderful things. They are not the greatest thing, though, and in order to grasp the greatest thing, we have to let go of the good things.

Surrender is not dramatic first. It is directional. It is this: Lord, You get final say:

  • Over my money.
  • Over my schedule.
  • Over my reputation.
  • Over my ambitions.
  • Over my security.
  • Over my success.

We cannot save ourselves. Our success will not be enough. Our status will not be enough. Our security will not be enough. Our sincerity will not be enough. But what is impossible with us is possible with God. God has done for us what we could never do for ourselves. Fully. Finally. In Jesus Christ. Jesus is enough!

So, we do not achieve eternal life. We receive it. We trust Him.

The man walked away sad. We don’t have to walk away sad because Jesus is all the enough we’ll ever need.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Twenty Minutes a Day: Ten Reasons to Read the Bible in a Year

/ pastorlynnmalone / Leave a comment

I am on a journey (again) to read the Bible in a year. It is a spiritual exercise I’ve practiced before, but I decided it was time to take up the practice once more.

I started the journey on January 1st, but I did something a little different this year, I invited the congregation I pastor to take the journey with me.

We are a congregation in transition (click here to go to our website) (click here to go to our Facebook page), so I thought it might be nice as we seek a vision of God’s calling for our congregation if we could “be on the same page” for this year of discernment.

This year I found an incredibly helpful tool that makes the discipline easier (it is a daunting task, I don’t care what anyone says). It’s the Bible in a Year Bible (find it here). No more flipping from the Old Testament to the New, back to the Psalms and to Proverbs. The readings are all in one place on a couple of pages to make the discipline simpler. I’m down for that!

Now that I’m five days into the process, I’ve rediscovered it takes about twenty minutes a day to read the passages. Twenty minutes a day! I thought it might be helpful if I share ten reasons to spend twenty minutes a day with the Bible, so here goes…

1. Spiritual Growth

One of the most significant reasons to read the Bible in a year is the opportunity for spiritual growth and maturity. The Bible is not just a collection of ancient writings; it is the living Word of God.

Hebrews 4:12 describes Scripture as “living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword,” meaning it has the power to change us. Reading the Bible regularly shapes our hearts, minds, and actions, transforming us into the image of Christ.

The more we immerse ourselves in Scripture, the more we grow in wisdom, understanding, and Christlikeness. Over the course of a year, this daily discipline allows for a deep, sustained relationship with God that produces spiritual fruit.

2. Understanding of God’s Word

The Bible is a complex book (book of books, actually) that spans different genres, time periods, and cultures. By committing to read the entire Bible in a year, we gain a better understanding of its structure and message.

Rather than cherry-picking verses that are familiar or comfortable, reading through the Bible helps us understand the broader narrative—God’s creation, His covenant with Israel, the life and teachings of Jesus, and the early church’s development.

An holistic understanding is essential for knowing God more fully and living in light of His truth.

3. A Closer Relationship with God

One of the most intimate ways to develop a relationship with anyone is to spend time with them. In the same way, reading the Bible is an act of seeking God.

The Bible is God’s communication to us—His words of love, instruction, and correction. By setting aside time each day to read Scripture, we invite the Lord to speak directly into our lives.

Whether we’re reading a psalm that comforts, a prophecy that challenges, or a teaching of Jesus that guides us in how to live, each passage is an opportunity for connection. The more we read, the deeper our relationship with the Lord will become. His presence becomes tangible as we learn more about His character, His plans, and His promises.

4. Overcome Challenges

Life is full of challenges, whether they come in the form of personal struggles, health issues, relationship problems, or spiritual doubts. Reading the Bible in a year provides a foundation for facing these difficulties.

The Scriptures are filled with stories of people who encountered hardships—yet through faith, perseverance, and God’s intervention, they overcame. From the Psalms that express raw emotion in times of distress to the letters of Paul that teach endurance through suffering, the Bible offers encouragement, wisdom, and promises for every situation in life.

Regularly reading God’s Word gives us the spiritual armor we need to face life’s trials with hope and confidence.

5. More Knowledge and Wisdom

Knowledge of Scripture is essential for wisdom. The Bible is not only a spiritual guide but also a practical manual for living. Proverbs 2:6 tells us that “the Lord gives wisdom; from His mouth come knowledge and understanding.”

Reading the Bible regularly equips us with knowledge that can guide us in every area of life—from decision-making and relationships to work and finances.

The book of Proverbs, in particular, is full of practical advice for living wisely, but the entire Bible is rich with principles that can be applied to modern life.

Whether through moral guidance or examples of wise leaders, reading the Bible in a year enhances both our intellectual understanding and our ability to apply God’s wisdom in daily life.

6. Transformation and Renewal

Romans 12:2 urges believers to “be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” One of the most powerful ways to renew our mind is through regular exposure to Scripture.

As we read the Bible, the Holy Spirit works to change our thinking and refine our heart. The Bible provides a lens through which we can view the world more clearly, helping us discern truth from error, good from evil, and what is of eternal value from what is fleeting.

As we spend time in God’s Word, our priorities shift, our values realign with His, and our desires are transformed. Over the course of a year, this process of transformation leads to a life that reflects God’s will more clearly.

7. A Deep Appreciation for Jesus Christ

The Bible is ultimately about Jesus Christ—both the Old and New Testaments point to Him as the central figure in God’s redemptive plan.

Reading the Bible in a year gives us a greater appreciation for who Jesus is and what He has done. In the Old Testament, we see foreshadowings of Christ through prophecies, sacrifices, and types. In the New Testament, we witness His life, death, and resurrection.

A year-long journey through the Bible helps us see Jesus as the fulfillment of God’s promises and the hope for all people. This deeper understanding leads to a greater love and devotion for Christ, as we see more clearly the scope of His work and His sacrifice on our behalf.

8. Stronger Faith

Faith gets stronger by hearing the Word of God. Romans 10:17 tells us, “So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.” Regularly reading Scripture deepens our understanding of God’s promises and His faithfulness.

When we read about God’s faithfulness to Abraham, Moses, David, and the early church, we are reminded that God has always kept His Word. This encourages us to trust Him more fully in our own life.

As we see how God has acted in history, we are emboldened to believe that He will continue to act on our behalf. A year of daily Bible reading cultivates a growing faith, rooted in the truth of God’s Word.

9. Inspiration to Share the Gospel

The Bible is not just for personal growth; it is also the foundation of the Christian message. As we read the Bible in a year, we will be better equipped to share the gospel with others (ain’t this what we’re supposed to do?).

The teachings of Jesus, the apostles, and the prophets give us the words to speak when we encounter someone seeking answers to life’s most important questions.

The Bible is filled with verses that highlight God’s love for us, His desire for salvation, and His offer of grace through faith in Jesus Christ. A more thorough understanding of Scripture helps us to communicate the gospel message clearly and confidently, empowering us to be a witness to others.

10. Accomplishment and Discipline

Finally, reading the Bible in a year gives us a sense of accomplishment and develops the discipline of consistent Bible study (Bible study IS a spiritual discipline, after all).

Committing to read the Bible daily is a challenge, but completing it is a rewarding achievement. The Bible is a large book, and reading it in its entirety requires commitment and perseverance. This experience cultivates self-discipline, which is a virtue that extends beyond Bible reading.

By committing to this goal and following through, we not only enrich our spiritual life but also build character. We can look back at the end of the year and marvel at the depth of insight we’ve gained and the personal growth we’ve experienced.

A Closing Thought

So, it’s January 5th. Want to join the journey? Don’t worry! It’s okay to pick up the process now. Just adjust your days by five. So, you won’t be on the same page as me. You’ll still reap the benefits of the process.

Just a word of encouragement before I close…

Don’t beat yourself up if you miss a day or two. The spiritual disciplines are not meant to be wicked taskmasters trying to whip us into shape. They are gifts of grace from the Lord meant to draw us closer to Him. Simply start where you left off. Reading the Bible in a year doesn’t have to extend from January 1 to December 31, you know?

Hope this was helpful, and I hope you’ll join me on the journey.

Until next time, keep looking up…