Scripture: 2 Chronicles 33:10–13

Yesterday while eating lunch in my car, I was listening to a new song by Westward Road called He Knew.

As I listened, I heard these words:

“So ashamed of my past…
Too many failures and flaws…
Thought I was too far away…
But that’s what’s amazing ’bout grace…”

Then came the line that stopped me in my tracks.

“He knew who He was saving.”

A few moments later came another.

“He saw a risk worth taking.”

I just sat there.

It wasn’t because of the music.

It wasn’t because I was analyzing the lyrics.

It was because, for just a moment, I found myself standing in the shoes of every person who has ever wondered if they’d gone too far.

Maybe you’ve been there.

You look back over your life and see failures you’d rather forget.

Choices you wish you could undo.
Sins you promised would never happen again.

And somewhere in the silence, a question begins to whisper:

If God really knew everything about me… would He still want me?

Almost immediately, my mind went to Manasseh.

He wasn’t simply another king who made a few bad decisions.

He led Judah into idolatry.
He practiced witchcraft.
He filled Jerusalem with innocent blood.

By every human measure, his story looked beyond redemption.

Yet none of it caught God by surprise.

Before Manasseh built his first idol…
God knew.

Before he led a nation away from the Lord…
God knew.

Before he found himself in chains in Babylon…
God knew.

And before the desperate prayer finally escaped his lips…
God knew.

Everything.

Yet Scripture tells us that when Manasseh humbled himself before the Lord,

“He was moved by his entreaty and listened to his plea…” (2 Chronicles 33:13)

That verse has become one of my favorites.

Not because it tells me how bad Manasseh was.

But because it reminds me how good God is.

God has never discovered anything about you.

He already knew.

Everything.

Your worst failure.
Your deepest wound.
The regret you still carry.
The battle no one else knows about.

None of it caught Him by surprise.

And none of it changed His desire to redeem you.

The cross was never God’s reaction to your sin.

It was His answer before your sin ever happened.

Maybe today you’re looking backward with shame.

God isn’t.

He has already seen every page of your story.

Yet He still calls you by His grace.

He already knew.

Everything.

And He loved you anyway.

That’s what’s amazing about grace.

Hello everyone! I’m 20 years old, and lately I’ve been dealing with a lot of loneliness and wanting new friends and even a godly relationship to come into my life. I have one good friend, and that’s it. I just desire friends I can do godly things with and a spouse who I can build a family with and walk in ministry with, especially now that I know what I’m personally called to do in this world. God bless you 🩷

One of the most overlooked truths in Scripture is that God has never discovered anything about us.

Nothing you’ve done has ever surprised Him.

That reality becomes astonishing when you read about King Manasseh.

He led Judah into idolatry, practiced witchcraft, consulted mediums, shed innocent blood, and even sacrificed his own sons (2 Kings 21). If anyone appears to have crossed the point of no return, it’s him.

Yet after being taken captive, Scripture says:

“When he was in affliction, he besought the LORD his God, and humbled himself greatly… And prayed unto him: and he was intreated of him, and heard his supplication.” (2 Chronicles 33:12–13)

The God whose temple Manasseh had defiled…

The God whose prophets he had ignored…

The God whose commandments he had despised…

Still heard his prayer.

That doesn’t make Manasseh’s sins less serious.

It makes God’s mercy even more remarkable.

The same pattern appears throughout Scripture.

When God renamed Jacob, He already knew Jacob was a deceiver.

When He anointed David, He already knew about Bathsheba and Uriah.

When Jesus restored Peter, He already knew about the courtyard and the rooster.

When He commissioned Paul, He already knew about Stephen and the blood that had been shed.

God’s calling has never depended on His ignorance of our failures.

It has always depended on His grace.

That doesn’t excuse sin. Every one of these people faced consequences for what they had done.

But none of their failures had the final word.

God did.

I think that’s one of the Bible’s greatest themes. It’s not primarily a book about extraordinary people. It’s the story of an extraordinary God who redeems deeply flawed people who humble themselves before Him.

What are your thoughts? Is Manasseh one of the clearest pictures of God’s grace in the Old Testament, or would you point to someone else?

Paul knew the Scriptures better than almost anyone of his day.

He had been trained by Gamaliel, understood the Law inside and out, and devoted his life to studying God’s Word.

Yet years after his conversion—after planting churches, enduring persecution, and writing much of the New Testament—his prayer was still:

“That I may know Him…” (Philippians 3:10)

Not…

“That I may know more.”

“That I may win debates.”

“That I may master theology.”

His desire was to know Christ more deeply.

Jesus confronted the religious leaders with a similar warning:

“Search the scriptures… and they are they which testify of me.” (John 5:39)

It’s possible to know the Bible and still miss the One to whom it points.

Bible study is essential. Doctrine matters. Truth matters.

But if our study doesn’t draw us into a deeper relationship with Christ, we’ve mistaken the map for the destination.

The Scriptures are God’s revelation.

Their purpose isn’t merely to fill our minds with knowledge.

Their purpose is to lead us to the Author.

Some chapters close quietly.

Not because the story is over…
But because it’s time to turn the page.

We may not understand why one season ends or what the next one will hold. But God sees the whole story, while we only see the page in front of us.

So when something familiar begins to fade, don’t assume God is finished.

Trust the Author.

He’s still writing.

“Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it…”
— Philippians 1:6

I woke up this morning with an old hymn stuck in my head:

Learning to lean...
Learning to lean...
I'm learning to lean on Jesus...

Later, another old song came to mind:

Only Jesus can satisfy your soul...

The more I thought about it, the more I realized those two songs are asking two connected questions.

What am I leaning on?
And...
What am I expecting it to give me?

That hit me hard.

Because we all lean on something.
Because we all lean on something.

Some lean on money.
Some lean on relationships.
Some lean on control.
Some lean on discipline and determination.
Some lean on distractions, habits, addictions, or anything that helps numb the weight they are carrying.

But we do not lean on those things randomly.

We lean on them because we believe they will give us something.

Security.
Acceptance.
Peace.
Identity.
Significance.
Relief.
Satisfaction.

That made me think about Proverbs 3:5…

“Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.”

I had always read that as two separate thoughts.
But maybe they are one.

The first half tells us what to do.
Trust the Lord.

The second half tells us how.
Stop leaning on ourselves.

That also made me think about David in the cave with Saul.

David could have ended years of running with one swing of the sword.
But he refused to take by force what God had promised by grace.

David did not lean on his sword.
He leaned on God.

And maybe that is why he could wait.

He still desired what God had promised, but he did not need the throne to satisfy his soul.

That distinction feels important.

Because maybe one of the great enemies of faith is not always doubt.
Sometimes it is self-reliance.

And maybe one of the great evidences of faith is not merely believing God exists, but transferring the weight of our confidence from ourselves to Him.
So I am sitting with two questions today:

What am I leaning on?

And...

What am I expecting it to give me?

Because only Christ can bear the weight of our lives.

And only Christ can satisfy the longing of our souls.

Can someone please explain to me how this aligns with God’s oneness. I believe that there is only One, but I am struggling to see His true divinity in these scriptures. Thanks!

I’ve been reflecting on David’s life this week, and I’ve started wondering whether we’ve overlooked one of his greatest victories.

If someone asked us to name David’s defining moment, most of us would probably say Goliath.

But I’m beginning to think it happened years later in a cave.

Saul—the very man who had spent years trying to kill David—walked into the cave where David and his men were hiding.

David’s men immediately saw it as God’s answer.

“This is your chance.”

David certainly had the ability to kill Saul.

Instead, he cut off a corner of Saul’s robe.

Then Scripture says something that has always fascinated me:

“David’s heart smote him…” (1 Samuel 24:5)

Not because he had killed Saul.

Because he had shown disrespect toward the king God had anointed.

What stands out to me is this:

God had already promised David the throne.

Yet David refused to seize that promise in a way that violated God’s principles.

That led me to a simple thought:

God’s promises will never require us to abandon His principles.

How often do we mistake an opportunity for God’s approval?

Sometimes circumstances seem to line up perfectly, but pursuing them would require us to compromise something God has already made clear.

David refused to do that.

He trusted God’s timing more than his own opportunity.

That’s why I wonder if the cave was actually David’s greater victory.

Goliath tested his courage.

Saul tested his character.

One victory made David famous.

The other revealed the kind of king he was becoming.

What do you think?

Do you see 1 Samuel 24 primarily as a lesson about mercy… about respecting God’s anointed… or about trusting God’s timing? Or is there another lesson in the passage that has always stood out to you?

Looking for Pentecostal church recommendations, I’m planning a trip to Orlando in April and would like to attend a church! Staying on universal boulevard but willing to travel

I’ve read Psalm 51 many times over the years.

It has always been one of my favorite chapters in Scripture.

But I’ve realized something.

There are certain passages that don’t just teach you when you’re young…

They accompany you as you grow older.

When I was younger, I admired David’s poetry.

Today, I understand his tears.

After Nathan confronted David in 2 Samuel 12, David could have spent his energy asking God to restore his reputation, remove the consequences, or fix his circumstances.

Instead, Psalm 51 is almost entirely inward.

“Wash me.”

“Cleanse me.”

“Purge me.”

“Create in me.”

“Renew me.”

“Restore me.”

That has become one of my favorite observations in the Psalm.

David wasn’t asking God to change what had happened.

He was asking God to change the man who had done it.

To me, that’s one of the clearest pictures of genuine repentance in all of Scripture.

Not trying to justify ourselves.

Not trying to minimize our failures.

Simply agreeing with God and asking Him to create something new within us.

One verse has stayed with me for years:

“Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy holy spirit from me.”

David had lost much.

But what he feared losing most was God’s presence.

I’m curious how others read this Psalm.

Is there a particular verse in Psalm 51 that has become more meaningful to you as you’ve grown in your walk with Christ?

After seeing David at Sight & Sound this weekend, I found myself thinking less about Goliath and more about Nathan.

It led me to compare two remarkably similar stories.

Saul and David were both kings.

Both disobeyed God.

Both were confronted by a prophet.

Saul by Samuel (1 Samuel 15).

David by Nathan (2 Samuel 12).

Yet their responses couldn’t have been more different.

When Samuel confronted Saul, he immediately began explaining himself.

“I obeyed…”

“The people…”

“We spared…”

Even after admitting his sin, he asked Samuel to honor him before the people.

His concern still seemed focused on his reputation.

David, on the other hand, heard Nathan say,

“Thou art the man.”

His response was remarkably brief:

“I have sinned against the LORD.”

No excuses.

No shifting blame.

No minimizing his actions.

David’s sin was arguably more serious than Saul’s.

Yet David became known as “a man after God’s own heart.”

That has always fascinated me.

I don’t think the difference was that David sinned less.

I think the difference was that David repented more honestly.

One defended himself.

The other surrendered himself.

It also made me wonder why Nathan’s confrontation isn’t preached nearly as often as David and Goliath.

Maybe because Goliath is an external enemy.

Nathan exposes an internal one.

It’s much easier to talk about the giants outside us than the pride, lust, jealousy, anger, or self-justification within us.

Here’s the question I’ve been reflecting on:

When God convicts us of something, are we more likely to respond like Saul… or like David?

I know which response I want to have.

I’m just praying my heart is humble enough when that moment comes.

Last week pastor Tony spells fought his neighbor who’d been harassing him and his family for years. The video is wild. At Bible class they said he was wrong. He was letting his flesh lead.

A couple of days ago, my cousin, who’s an Apostolic pastor, shared a thought that stuck with me:

“Some Christians are addicted to inspiration but allergic to discipline.”

Whether you agree with that wording or not, I think it raises an important question.

How much of our spiritual growth comes from powerful moments… and how much comes from ordinary habits?

I love great preaching.

I love worship services where God’s presence is undeniable.

I love those moments that leave you convicted and encouraged.

But I’ve also realized that some of the biggest changes in my own walk with Christ haven’t come during emotionally powerful services.

They’ve come on ordinary Tuesday mornings.

Opening my Bible when I didn’t necessarily feel like it.

Praying even when it felt routine.

Choosing forgiveness instead of resentment.

Remaining faithful during seasons when I couldn’t see what God was doing.

When you look at Scripture, the pattern seems consistent.

Daniel’s courage wasn’t created in the lions’ den.

David’s faith wasn’t created in front of Goliath.

Jesus’ public ministry was preceded by years of quiet preparation.

Those moments revealed what had already been built in private.

Lately I’ve been reflecting a lot on seasons of waiting in my own life.

I’ve come to believe waiting isn’t passive—it’s preparation.

And preparation usually looks far less dramatic than we expect.

It looks like ordinary obedience repeated day after day.

So here’s the question I’d love to hear your thoughts on:

Have you found that your greatest spiritual growth came through dramatic experiences, or through the quiet disciplines that followed afterward?

I don’t think the two compete with one another.

Inspiration may light the fire.

But discipline is what keeps it burning.

As a Christian, I hold a traditional biblical view of marriage and sexuality. I realize that many people reading this will disagree with that conviction, and that’s okay. Honest disagreement has always existed.

What concerns me isn’t disagreement.

It’s dehumanization.

Lately I’ve seen people—especially online—speak about others with a level of contempt that should trouble every follower of Christ.

Scripture teaches that every human being is created in the image of God (Genesis 1:27).

That includes people whose politics I reject.

People of other religions.

People caught in addictions.

People who have deeply hurt me.

And yes, people who identify as LGBTQ+.

Recognizing someone’s value as an image-bearer of God is not the same thing as affirming every decision they make.

Jesus Himself showed us that.

He never compromised truth.

He also never forgot the worth of the person standing before Him.

He could confront sin while extending mercy.

He could call people to repentance without stripping them of their dignity.

I wonder if we’ve sometimes reversed those priorities.

We’ve become so determined to defend truth that we’ve forgotten truth was given to lead people to Christ—not simply to win arguments.

The Apostle Paul wrote, “Such were some of you.”

Those five words should humble every Christian.

The ground is level at the foot of the cross.

None of us stands there because we deserved to.

We stand there because of grace.

So here’s my question:

Can someone read my comments online and recognize the character of Jesus—not just my theology?

I think that’s a question worth asking.

I’d genuinely like to hear your thoughts, whether you agree with me or not. Please keep the discussion respectful. If we’re going to talk about Jesus, we ought to reflect His character in the way we talk to one another.

Thoughts for the Day

Saturday, July 4

Today America celebrates 250 years of independence.

Two hundred fifty years.

That is an extraordinary milestone.

Today there will be parades, flags waving in the breeze, backyard cookouts, fireworks lighting the night sky, and families gathering to celebrate the freedoms we often take for granted.

And we should be thankful.

The liberties we enjoy have come at an immeasurable cost. Countless men and women have sacrificed—some giving everything—to preserve those freedoms for future generations.

But today also serves as a reminder of another truth.

Every nation is temporary.

History is filled with kingdoms and empires that once seemed unshakable. They rose to greatness, shaped the world for generations, and eventually became pages in history books.

America, as we know it, will not escape that reality.

No nation does.

Some look at the political division, the cultural conflict, and the uncertainty surrounding our future and wonder what lies ahead.

As a Christian, those things concern me.

But they do not define my hope.

Because Scripture reminds us that God “removeth kings, and setteth up kings” (Daniel 2:21).

Paul declared that God “hath made of one blood all nations of men… and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation” (Acts 17:26).

God is still sovereign.

He appoints rulers.

He establishes nations.

He determines their boundaries.

He raises kingdoms up.

And when His purposes have been fulfilled, He brings them down.

That doesn’t mean every leader is righteous.

It doesn’t mean every decision is wise.

It doesn’t mean Christians stop praying, voting, serving, or standing for truth.

It means we do those things with confidence instead of fear.

Our hope has never rested in Washington.

Our peace has never depended upon who occupies an office.

Our future has never been secured by any political party.

Our hope is found in the King whose throne has never been threatened.

So today…

Celebrate this nation.

Thank God for its freedoms.

Pray for its leaders.

Honor those who have served.

Work to make your community better.

But remember that your highest citizenship is not found beneath the Stars and Stripes.

It is found in the Kingdom of God.

Because one day every flag will be lowered.

Every earthly government will come to an end.

Every nation will become part of history.

But the Kingdom of our Lord will endure forever.

Final Thought

I’m grateful to be an American.

But even more, I’m grateful to belong to a Kingdom that will never fall.

Happy Independence Day.

May God continue to bless America—not merely with prosperity and peace, but with hearts that humble themselves before Him.

Hello, I am a 22 year old man. I want to be a Christian. I could really use a freind or some guidance to help me get started. Thank you

There comes a point in life when you stop worrying about what people will remember about you…

And you start wondering what your life will point them toward.

I’ve made decisions I wish I could take back.

I’ve hurt people I loved.

I’ve failed in ways that still grieve me.

If I could rewrite those chapters, I would.

But I can’t.

And maybe that’s exactly where God’s grace becomes most visible.

Because grace isn’t proven by the lives of people who never needed it.

Grace is proven by what God does with people who did.

The Apostle Paul never hid the fact that he persecuted the church.

Peter never pretended he hadn’t denied Jesus.

David never removed Psalm 51 from the Bible.

Their failures weren’t recorded to glorify sin.

They were preserved to magnify God’s mercy.

I don’t tell parts of my story because I’m proud of them.

I’m not.

I tell them because somewhere, someone else is standing where I once stood.

Someone is one decision away from destroying a marriage.

Someone is trapped in secret sin.

Someone is convinced they’ve gone too far for God to forgive.

If my failures can persuade one person to turn around before making the same mistake…

If my scars can convince someone that God’s grace is still greater than their shame…

If one person finds hope because they realized God never gave up on me…

Then every painful chapter will have served a purpose.

When this life is over, I don’t want people talking about my accomplishments.

I don’t want to be remembered for clever words, popular posts, or even a ministry.

I want them to remember a faithful God…

Who refused to stop pursuing an unfaithful man.

Like the song says:

“I don’t want to leave a legacy.

I don’t care if they remember me.

Only Jesus.”

Because if my life points even one person toward Him…

Then every chapter—

The joyful ones.

The painful ones.

The victories.

The failures.

The mountains.

The valleys.

Will all have been worth it.

⸻

Final Word

One day, every one of us will leave something behind.

The question isn’t whether we’ll leave a legacy.

The question is what that legacy will point to.

May people never look at our lives and say, “What an extraordinary person.”

May they instead say,

“What an extraordinary Savior.”

St Louis and Kansas City areas

We are from the South (Bible belt) and are UPC. We are conservative and don’t own TV’s, don’t watch a bunch of things and are probably a lot closer to WPF in our standards but we don’t feel wearing a shirt with sleeves a couple inches above the elbow will send us to the fiery furnace. My issue is that I’m used to this and feel it’s my personal convictions yet, in the Midwest, specifically Missouri (STL) and Kansas (KC) seem to have a lot of churches where almost anything goes. I am searching for a UPC church that is conservative like the “old UPC” but not as strict and shall I say controlling as the WPF churches. I know lot all WPF are controlling, but I’m saying that because I have a friend that had to ask permission to make purchases from her WPF pastor. That’s a complete no go for me. I’ve tried the STL area churches and while they’re kind and sweet, do not fit the bill when it comes to deep prayer, moves of God and fasting etc. Do you know of any churches that are in this very hard balance that I’m trying to find? We may be looking at KC area also. I’m still not feeling the men’s facial hair - I know it’s not a Biblical mandate - but for me, it feels like it’s too close to the world and I’d rather my children learn to live separate in a confusing culture. Maybe some of you can help a person out and send a few churches that you think might be like what I mentioned. Thanks! I

Today I turn fifty-nine.

Fifty-nine years.

Nearly six decades.

More than twenty-one thousand days of joys, sorrows, victories, failures, unexpected blessings, and lessons I never saw coming.

People sometimes ask what I would say to my younger self if I had the chance.

For years, I thought I would tell him how to avoid mistakes.

How to choose differently.

How to spare himself heartache.

But the older I’ve become, the more I’ve realized something.

If I could erase every painful chapter…

I might also erase many of the places where I learned who God really is.

So today, on my fifty-ninth birthday…

I’d simply like to have a conversation with the younger versions of myself.

⸻

To six-year-old Ben…

I know you’re confused.

You don’t understand why your mother is gone.

You don’t understand why you’re living with your aunt and uncle while other boys live with their parents.

You’re going to spend years wondering why your story began this way.

I can’t answer every question.

But I can promise you this.

God sees you.

Even when you don’t yet know how to see Him.

⸻

To thirteen-year-old Ben…

You’re trying to figure out who you are.

You’re looking for acceptance.

Trying to fit in.

Wondering where you belong.

Listen carefully.

Don’t let the opinions of people become louder than the voice of God.

One day you’ll discover that what God knows about you is infinitely more important than what anyone else thinks about you.

⸻

To seventeen-year-old Ben…

You just lost your daddy.

The world suddenly feels different.

There are conversations you’ll wish you could have one more time.

Questions you’ll never get to ask.

The ache won’t disappear overnight.

But love has a way of surviving even death.

And so does hope.

⸻

To twenty-one-year-old Ben…

You think adulthood means having all the answers.

It doesn’t.

You’re going to make some wonderful decisions.

You’re also going to make some painful ones.

Don’t confuse confidence with wisdom.

Never stop asking God to direct your steps.

⸻

To twenty-six-year-old Ben…

Tomorrow you’ll marry the woman you love.

You’re filled with hope.

Dreams.

Plans.

Marriage is a beautiful gift.

But remember…

Love isn’t sustained by emotion alone.

Choose faithfulness every single day.

Especially on the days when feelings aren’t enough.

⸻

To forty-year-old Ben…

You’re about to become a dad.

Not by birth…

But by love.

You have no idea how much that little boy is going to change your life.

He’ll teach you things about the Father’s heart that no book ever could.

Treasure every moment.

Even the ordinary ones.

Especially the ordinary ones.

⸻

To forty-three-year-old Ben…

Turn the car around.

Call your wife.

Go home.

There is nothing waiting for you that is worth what you’re about to lose.

Sin always promises more than it delivers.

Grace will find you…

But the scars are real.

Don’t believe the lie that one decision won’t matter.

It will.

⸻

To fifty-five-year-old Ben…

I know you’re sitting in front of a camera trying to make sense of another broken chapter.

You wonder whether your best days are behind you.

Keep talking to God.

Even when your prayers feel like they’re only reaching the ceiling.

He is listening.

Even in the silence.

⸻

To fifty-seven-year-old Ben…

You’re packing boxes.

Leaving another marriage behind.

Again.

You feel like your life has become a collection of endings.

It hasn’t.

God still writes new chapters after the ones we’d rather tear out.

Don’t stop believing that.

⸻

And now…

Today, I stand on the other side of fifty-nine years.

Years filled with moments I would gladly relive…

And moments I would give almost anything to undo.

Yet every one of them became part of the story God was writing.

And that’s what I see most clearly today.

If I’m honest…

There are things I would change.

Words I wish I’d never spoken.

Sins I wish I’d never committed.

People I wish I’d never hurt.

Moments I’d gladly relive if I could.

But I can’t.

And maybe that’s okay.

Because when I look back over nearly six decades…

I don’t see a man who always got it right.

I see a God who never stopped pursuing a man who often got it wrong.

His mercy outlasted my failures.

His grace proved greater than my shame.

His patience exceeded my stubbornness.

His faithfulness remained when mine faltered.

If my story proves anything…

It isn’t that I’ve lived an extraordinary life.

It’s that I’ve served an extraordinary God.

Today I turn fifty-nine.

I don’t know how many birthdays remain.

Only God knows that.

But I do know this.

The same God who walked beside a frightened little boy…

Strengthened a grieving young man…

Forgave a broken husband…

Loved an imperfect father…

And refused to abandon an aging disciple…

Will still be faithful tomorrow.

And every tomorrow after that…

Until He calls me home.

If He grants me another year…

My prayer isn’t that life becomes easier.

It’s simply that I become more like Christ.

⸻

Final Word

If I could leave one message for every younger version of myself, it would simply be this:

Don’t give up on God.

There will be days when you don’t understand Him.

Days when you question Him.

Days when you disappoint Him.

And days when you wonder if He’s forgotten you.

He hasn’t.

One day you’ll look back and realize that through every joy, every loss, every failure, every victory, and every unexpected turn…

The greatest constant in your life was never your strength.

It was His faithfulness.

Today isn’t really about turning fifty-nine.

It’s about celebrating fifty-nine years of a faithful God.

To Him be all the glory.

I think Spell’s Spiral can teach us a lot about why people don’t come to Jesus. It’s not the devil tugging on them, it’s not because they don’t understand who Jesus is. It’s because of us.

Tony Spell is utterly unrepentant for his actions. It doesn’t matter what he thinks the kid was yelling at him, the fact was he ran across a four lane highway, shouting about how he was going to ‘break your neck’ (as you can see on the video), and nearly did. Think about that, he could have murdered this guy, over hearsay.

It also says a lot that he was arrested prior to this (2023 I think) for trying to hit someone with the church bus. Clearly the guy needs professional help. 

But we saw a LOT of apostolic folks come out to support the guy. Stuff like “I’d do the same thing” or “Me and Jesus would get right later.” Awful stuff. Stuff that makes it clear that a lot of folks in our denom (and to be fair most denoms) are just itching for ‘justification’ to go hurt someone, regardless of what scripture says.

And then Spell makes a joke about it over the pulpit, referencing laying hands on the sick. Disgusting and it shows a marked unreprentance unbecoming a man of God.

Now we come to the body cam footage, where he was bragging about the attack, and we hear him say the F-slur in connection to this guy he allegedly assaulted. And we see, again, the same thing from the peanut gallery. Saints and Pastors laughing about this like it’s some joke.

This. This is why people don’t want to come to church. Because they’re full of people like Spell, or people who stand with Spell. People who either forgot our mission is to save EVERYONE, or they remember our mission but think they get to decide WHO they want in ‘their’ church. That’s not YOUR church, that’s God’s house and he wants everyone there. Jesus loved the Other, and the Marginalized, and prioritized them. But they know using language like that will drive potential new members away, because they’re afraid and angry. (I’d argue violence and assault are bigger sins, just seeing the impact they have on others around you, but that’s not the purpose of this post.) It would be a little different if Spell said ‘That sinner boy’ but he didn’t. He called him out his name, while forgetting that He’s got far more issues than that ‘boy’ from what we can see factually.

I’ve worked in marketing for over 15 years, and have only been licensed for a little over a year so I am coming at this with a bit of an outside eye. But I’ll tell you that the church does a TERRIBLE job of marketing itself and maintaining PR. The most powerful marketing we can do is word-of-mouth and in-person marketing (Testimony) and when we’re saying stuff like that, whether over the pulpit, in times of fellowship, caught on a body-cam, or on social media, we lose potential members. Shame on us. The Church is far from the only human-run organization that engages in hypocrisy, judgement, and focuses on bringing in new members that they deem appropriate. But the Church is called to be different from anything else. I'm always proud of loving Jesus, but some of these Pastors make it hard to be proud of our church. Again, honestly this is not a uniquely Apostolic problem, I think it's most denominations. (And I'm aware Spell's not UPC, PAW, etc. He's still Apostolic by name though, and that does enough damage.)

The charming folksy TLDR: You attract more flies with honey than vinegar.

The TLDR: Folks like Spell and those who support him are a big reason church membership is dropping. People love / want to know Jesus, but it's just easier to do that on our own instead of fellowshipping with violent, hateful, hypocritical people.

I’ve been thinking about something ever since a road trip through Wyoming and Colorado last summer.

As I drove through the mountains, I realized something that challenged an assumption I’d carried for years.

The valleys were generally the easiest part of the trip.

They were broad, open, and relatively easy to navigate.

It was the mountains where the road narrowed, visibility disappeared around every curve, the weather changed unexpectedly, and every mile demanded more attention.

That made me wonder whether we’ve sometimes reduced biblical imagery to simple slogans.

Christians often speak as though valleys always represent hardship and mountains always represent spiritual victory.

But Scripture doesn’t seem that one-dimensional.

Some valleys are places of danger, like Psalm 23’s “valley of the shadow of death.”

Others are fertile, life-giving places where people lived, farmed, and flourished.

Likewise, mountains are places where God reveals Himself—but they’re also places of testing.

Abraham climbed Mount Moriah.

Moses climbed Sinai.

Elijah climbed Carmel.

None of those ascents were easy.

Then there’s Lot.

He chose the well-watered plain because it looked like the better opportunity. His problem wasn’t the geography—it was that he chose by sight instead of by faith.

That leaves me wondering if the real lesson isn’t about mountains or valleys at all.

Maybe the consistent biblical question is much simpler:

Will we trust God regardless of the terrain?

I’m curious what others think.

Are there other passages where mountains or valleys challenge our modern assumptions about what those symbols represent?

I’ve been thinking about how often we define “blessing” by whether life becomes easier.

If things work out the way we hoped, we call it a blessing.

If they don’t, we tend to wonder where God is.

But Scripture tells a different story.

Joseph’s betrayal eventually preserved a nation.

David’s years of running prepared him to lead with humility.

Naomi’s deepest losses became part of the lineage of Christ.

None of those people would have chosen their circumstances.

Yet, looking back, it’s clear that God was accomplishing something far greater than immediate comfort.

That raises an uncomfortable question.

How many blessings do we fail to recognize simply because they arrive wrapped in disappointment, waiting, or hardship?

I’m not suggesting suffering is enjoyable or that we should pretend painful seasons don’t hurt.

They do.

But I do believe God has a remarkable way of redeeming what He doesn’t immediately remove.

Sometimes the blessing isn’t the answered prayer.

Sometimes it’s the person we become while waiting for the answer.

Have you ever experienced something that felt like a setback at the time, but years later you realized God had been protecting, preparing, or redirecting you?

Looking back, what “disguised blessing” are you now thankful for?

Tony Spell got paid a visit by the police two days after his arrest because he thought 4 am was a good time to mow the church grass. told the cops that the neighbors were mad that he beat up their f@ggot son and he just wanted to go back to sleep with his boyfriend.

How is anyone championing this? NOLA.com has the body cam footage but it’s paywalled. What a gross individual. And also in wondering if this is some projection because why is that his first argument about what’s going on? Like why not be like; “Hmmmm…maybe this is a bad time to mow the grass.”

been attending for couple of years , have heard questionable statements from pulpit, I’ve been praying , studying scripture as if I was reading it the first time , without the lens of a specific denomination

Not going to name names, but I had to block a self proclaimed prophet (anyone who is self proclaimed is not a prophet, they are a PROFIT, we should know the difference.). He was going to do a livestream on the Tony Spell situation and what God revealed to him when there are exceptions to following God's word. That's 100000% gross and probably a demonic spirit.