Romans 8:6 - Life, Peace, and the Trouble with Carnal Thinking

Romans 8:6
The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace.

Paul wrote, “For to be carnally minded is death; but to be spiritually minded is life and peace” (Romans 8:6 NKJV). That’s not just religious talk — it’s a reality check. What we set our minds on truly shapes our lives. And let’s be honest:  sometimes what we see in ourselves (and in the church) looks a lot more like carnality than spirituality.

You can spot the difference pretty quickly, though. Ever notice how some folks will go to a ball game in the pouring rain, but a drizzle on Sunday morning is enough to cancel worship? Or how we can feel “too sick” for church, but somehow well enough to drag ourselves to work Monday morning? That’s not dedication — that’s our priorities showing up.

Spirituality isn’t about checking a box or showing up when the weather’s nice. It’s about valuing God more than comfort, convenience, or culture. It’s about setting our minds on “things above, not on earthly things” (Colossians 3:2).

When we’re spiritually minded, we see worship not as optional but essential. We notice the brother or sister who’s drifting and reach out to restore them (Galatians 6:1). We understand our whole life is meant to be a “living sacrifice” (Romans 12:1), not just an hour on Sunday.

The truth is, carnality always weakens the church and turns people away from Christ. But spirituality breathes life, strength, and peace into both our souls and our community. And here’s the best part: it’s not reserved for “super saints.” It grows in ordinary Christians who are willing to stay in God’s Word, pray, and walk daily in the Spirit (Galatians 5:25).

Carnal thinking leaves us empty, but spiritual living fills us with life and peace. And honestly, who doesn’t want more of that?

John 3:1-3 - Nicodemus: From Darkness to Light

John 3:1-3
Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council. He came to Jesus at night and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.”
Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.”

Nicodemus is one of those fascinating figures we read of in the Gospel of John. He wasn’t a fisherman, tax collector, or ordinary person like many of Jesus’ other followers. He was a Pharisee—a respected religious teacher, an expert in Scripture, and a member of the Jewish ruling council. In other words, Nicodemus was the kind of man people looked up to for answers.

And yet, when we read of him coming to Jesus in John 3, he came at night. It is possible he didn’t want his colleagues to see him. Maybe he was afraid of what others would think. Or he simply wanted a private conversation with the teacher who was performing all of the miracles he was hearing about. Whatever the reason, John makes it clear that Nicodemus came to Jesus “in the dark.”

When he opened the conversation, Nicodemus sounded respectful: “Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God.” But as Jesus often did, He immediately cut to the heart of the matter:  “No one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.” Nicodemus was stunned. He thought Jesus meant a physical rebirth, and he couldn’t understand. Jesus was really saying, “You need a spiritual rebirth—from above, by water and the Spirit.”

This was shocking for a man like Nicodemus. His entire life was built on his study of the Scriptures, Jewish traditions of the Rabbis, and his careful obedience to the Law. But Jesus told him plainly:  Eternal life isn’t found in rules or knowledge. It comes only by being born again, born from above, through faith in the Son of God.

To make His point, Jesus reminded Nicodemus of the story in Numbers 21, when God told Moses to lift up a bronze serpent so that the dying Israelites who were snake-bitten could look at it and live. In a similar way, Jesus would be lifted up on the cross, and whoever looked to Him in faith would find eternal life. This is the context of the verse we all know so well: “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life” - John 3:16.

Nicodemus didn’t fully believe that night. But his journey didn’t end there. Later in John 7, he cautiously defended Jesus in front of his peers. And finally, after the crucifixion, Nicodemus brought a very costly gift of burial spices and helped Joseph of Arimathea bury Jesus. That act was public, costly, and courageous. It was Nicodemus’ way of stepping out of the shadows and into the light.

His story reminds us that faith is often a journey. Some of us begin with curiosity, asking our own questions in the dark. Others cautiously defend Jesus but hesitate to commit fully. But in the end, real faith calls us to step boldly into the light, no matter the cost.

Nicodemus challenges us with one big question:  Are we still hiding in the dark, or are we ready to step into the light of Christ and be born from above?

Psalm 29:2 - Worship as a Just Return to God

Psalm 29:2 - "Ascribe to the Lord the glory due His name; worship the Lord in the splendor of His holiness."

Have you ever given someone a compliment that just felt right? “That was wonderful,” or “You did a great job on that,” saying it not out of politeness, but because it was the only honest thing to say. That’s what Psalm 29:2 is all about. When we worship God, we’re not just participating in a church activity—we’re responding truthfully to who God is. Worship is simply the most fitting response we can give to the greatness and goodness of our God.

David said, “Ascribe to the Lord the glory due His name.” In other words, give God what He’s rightfully owed. This isn’t about hyping up God or flattering Him—He doesn’t need that. It’s about recognizing and honoring His worth. God’s name—His very nature, character, and reputation—deserves glory. To give Him less would fall way short of what He truly deserves.

And really, what a name it is! Psalm 29 says we worship the Lord “in the splendor of His holiness.” Holiness here speaks of more than moral purity—it reflects God’s absolute uniqueness, His radiant beauty, His separateness from all creation, and His glorious difference from everything else we know. When we catch even a glimpse of that holiness, worship becomes less about preference or style and more about reverence and awe. Worship becomes a return—not payment, but praise. Not from obligation, but from overflow.

And here’s something interesting:  worship doesn’t just go to God, it also does something in us. When we turn our eyes toward Him, when we give Him the honor He deserves, our hearts start to change. Worship shapes us. It stretches our vision and lifts us out of our own small worlds. Worship reminds us that life isn’t centered on us, but on God. Romans 12 talks about offering our lives as a “living sacrifice” in worship—and how that act renews our minds and transforms us.

Worship also reorients us. It untangles our hearts from the clutter of fear, pride, worry, and self-focus, and draws us back to what matters most:  the goodness and glory of God.

But it doesn’t stop there. Worship also speaks to the world. When people see God’s people gathering to praise—not because we’re trying to impress anyone, but because we delight in God—they see something deeper than religion. They see a relationship. They see joy. They see truth. In fact, Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 14 that even unbelievers can be moved to worship when they see the real presence of God among His people. Worship becomes a testimony—clear, powerful, and beautiful.

Worship is our attempt—imperfect, yet sincere—to return to God the thankfulness He deserves for all He has done for us. It’s not just a moment of song or a warm, spiritual feeling. It’s the fitting and joyful response of hearts that have been created, loved, and redeemed by Him.

When we worship, we’re offering back to God the honor and gratitude that rightfully belong to Him. And in doing so, something beautiful happens:  our souls are refreshed, our witness is strengthened, and we are lovingly reminded that this world is not our true home.

Worship isn’t a performance or a mood—it’s a gift of thanks from us to God. A steady rhythm of remembering, rejoicing, and returning.

He is worthy of all we can offer—and so much more. And in giving God what He deserves, we often find what we’ve been missing all along:  deep, steady, lasting joy.

So whenever you heed the call to worship—on a Sunday morning, in a quiet moment at home, or just in the middle of your day—remember:  it isn’t about going through the motions. It’s not about whether the song is your favorite, or if you feel like it. It’s about stepping into something deeply true and incredibly right.

Luke 22:39 - Do You Have a "Garden?"

Luke 22:39

“Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives, and His disciples followed Him.”

Have you ever felt so overwhelmed that you just needed to get away and talk to God? Maybe it was late at night when the house was finally quiet, or maybe it was a quiet corner of your yard or a walk through the park. We all need a place like that. For Jesus, that place was the Garden of Gethsemane.

When we read Luke 22:39, we find something striking:  “Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives, and His disciples followed Him.” That word “usual” tells us something important—this wasn’t a one-time visit. 

Gethsemane was familiar ground. It was Jesus’ go-to place for prayer, a space where He could talk to His Father without distractions.

Let that sink in. Even Jesus—the Son of God—had a regular prayer life. And He had a regular place to pray. Now, if Jesus needed that kind of connection, how much more do we?

In Gethsemane, Jesus wasn’t praying just because it was His routine. He was in agony. He knew the cross was ahead, and He was overwhelmed with sorrow. Matthew 26:38 records His words:  “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.” And yet, what did He do? – He prayed.

He prayed so intensely that Luke tells us His sweat was like drops of blood. That’s not just prayer—that’s wrestling with God in the rawest, most vulnerable way. And through it, Jesus found strength. He went into that garden weighed down with dread. He came out ready to face the cross, saying, “Rise, let us go!”

There are two key takeaways from Jesus’ time in Gethsemane that can transform how we approach prayer today:

1. Emergency prayers only work if we’ve practiced daily prayer.  Jesus was prepared for His darkest hour because prayer was already part of His life. He didn’t wait until He was desperate to cry out—He had been building that relationship all along. Too often, we only pray when the storm hits, but if we’re not used to hearing God’s voice in the calm, we’ll struggle to hear Him in the chaos.

2. Prayer doesn’t always change the situation, but it changes us.  Jesus still went to the cross. The suffering didn’t go away. But He left the garden with renewed strength and peace. Sometimes God changes our circumstances – but more often – He changes us — giving us the grace, the peace, and the courage to walk through the fire.

So, let me ask you—do you have a place to pray? Do you have a “Gethsemane” where you can be still, be honest, and be strengthened? If not, I would suggest you find one. Maybe it’s your car before work. Maybe it’s a chair in the corner of your room. Make it a place where you and God meet, not just in crisis, but regularly.

These are stressful times. Life is heavy. But Gethsemane reminds us:  strength comes not from avoiding hardship, but from kneeling through it in prayer.

Let’s follow Jesus into the garden—because that’s where peace begins.

Romans 12:2 - Seeing Through the "Shades of Grey"

Romans 12:2
And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.

When I was young, the world often seemed so simple—right was right, and wrong was wrong. The lines were clear, the choices were obvious. But as I have grown older, something has happened. Life feels more complicated. What was once black and white has begun to blur, and find myself navigating a world full of gray areas.

These “shades of gray” often come with complicated explanations and justifications. I hear words like “context,” “situation,” or “perspective.” And while there is true wisdom in understanding circumstances, I must also recognize the danger: if I’m not careful, I may start conforming to the world’s way of thinking rather than seeking God’s clear will.

Romans 12:2 offers timely guidance: “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

Paul is reminding us that the Christian life requires intention. Conforming is easy—you just need to be passive. Transformation, on the other hand, takes action. It’s a conscious choice to think differently and let God reshape our minds.

You and I live in a world that seems to almost celebrate compromise and confusion. But God calls us to clarity, to spiritual discernment. As 1 John 2:15-17 teaches, loving the world means turning away from the Father. The world’s desires are temporary, but doing God’s will leads to eternal life.

To truly see through the gray, we must learn to “prove”—to test and discern—what is good and right in God’s eyes. The spiritually minded person doesn’t base their decisions on feelings or trends, but instead, they look to God’s truth. In 2 Corinthians 5:16, Paul says we no longer view anyone from a worldly perspective. Our minds, our hearts, and our wills must be guided by the mind of Christ (Philippians 2:5).

The renewal of the Christian’s mind is not a one-time event—it’s a daily journey. And yes, it can be hard. It might mean facing uncomfortable truths about ourselves or letting go of the world’s approval. But to remain comfortable in the world’s thinking is to risk being lost.

So let’s commit to the hard, beautiful work of transformation. Let’s seek clarity in a world of confusion. Let’s fix our minds on Christ and strive to think, feel, and act more like Him each day.

Because when we start seeing through the gray with the light of God’s truth, we’ll discover that His will isn’t cloudy or vague—it’s good, pleasing, and perfect.

Revelation 8:1-4 - God Values Our Prayers

Revelation 8:1-4
When he opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour. And I saw the seven angels who stand before God, and seven trumpets were given to them.
Another angel, who had a golden censer, came and stood at the altar. He was given much incense to offer, with the prayers of all God’s people, on the golden altar in front of the throne. The smoke of the incense, together with the prayers of God’s people, went up before God from the angel’s hand.

Prayer is often something we know we should do, but sometimes it gets pushed to the edges of our busy lives. Yet, in Revelation 8:1–4, we are given an encouraging glimpse into heaven that reminds us just how precious and powerful our prayers really are. John describes a moment of silence in heaven — "about the space of half an hour" (v. 1) — an unusual and dramatic pause in the middle of the opening of scrolls and unfolding judgments. This silence comes just before the next series of events in God's plan. But what happens during that silence? The prayers of the saints are presented before God!

An angel comes and stands at the altar, holding a golden censer. The air is filled with a sweet smell as he is given "much incense" to offer "with the prayers of all saints" (v. 3). This incense, and our prayers, rises up before God — "from the angel’s hand" — as a sweet offering. And – it’s not just to maintain heaven’s atmosphere. It’s not an afterthought. It’s central to the scene. Heaven quiets itself for the prayers of God’s people.

This image is powerful because it shows us our prayers matter in heaven. They rise up like incense—fragrant, meaningful, noticed. Not one of them is lost or ignored. God listens. And more than that, He responds. In the next verse (v. 5), we see the angel take fire from the altar, fill the censer, and cast it to the earth—symbolizing that God is taking action in response to those prayers.

Too often we think of prayer as something small. But in Revelation 8, we see it’s part of something much, much bigger. Our prayers are not only heard — they are part of God’s divine work in the world. The prayers of the saints are not passive; they are powerful!

So what does this mean for us?

It means we must never underestimate the importance of praying — both privately and with others. When we feel helpless, prayer is not the last resort; it is the first action of faith. When we feel unheard by the world, we are still heard in heaven. And when we wonder if our words are making a difference, Revelation reminds us that God receives them, values them, and moves through them.

So – be encouraged to pray with confidence, knowing that even if the world doesn’t notice, heaven does. And never forget: your prayers go farther than you can imagine—all the way to the very throne of God.

Philippians 3:13-14 - Pressing Onward

Philippians 3:13-14

“Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

As I’ve gotten older, I sometimes feel like my most productive days are behind me. Maybe you’ve wondered the same about yourself. Yet the Bible reminds me that my journey of faith is a marathon, not a sprint. It doesn’t end until I step into eternity with Christ. Am I still reaching forward, or have I slowed my pace?

Like many older Christians, I sometimes feel the pull to slow down—physically and spiritually. But if I’m still breathing, God still has work for me. His purpose for my life doesn’t expire with age. Retirement in the world may mean stepping back, but in God’s kingdom, there’s no such thing as spiritual retirement. Caleb, at 85, declared in Joshua 14:10-12, “Now therefore, give me this mountain… As yet I am as strong this day as on the day that Moses sent me.” I may not have Caleb physical strength, but I can trust God to fulfill His promises, no matter my age.

The wisdom I have gathered is invaluable. Titus 2:3-5 calls older believers to mentor others, and Psalm 92:12-14 promises that the righteous will remain fruitful in every season. Whether through prayer, encouragement, or service, my contributions matter.

Though my physical energy may fade, God provides the strength to press forward. My limitations become opportunities for His power to shine. Isaiah 40:29-31 promises that “those who wait on the Lord… shall run and not be weary.” Trusting in God renews my strength to continue the journey.

My fellow believers are another source of strength. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 reminds me of the value of companionship: “Two are better than one… For if they fall, one will lift up his companion.” Staying connected with the body of Christ provides encouragement and shared strength.

Finally, God’s Word is a powerful source of endurance. Spending time in Scripture equips me for life’s challenges and reminds me of His promises. Philippians 4:13 encourages me: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” I will draw strength daily from God, His Word, and His people.

The impact I leave on others extends beyond what I can see. Leaving a legacy of faith means sharing God’s love and truth with future generations. Psalm 145:4 says, “One generation shall praise Your works to another.” When I share how God has worked in my life, I encourage others to trust in His faithfulness.

Investing in the next generation is vital. Whether through teaching, mentoring, or simple acts of love, my influence can inspire faith in those who come after me.

God calls me to press onward, no matter my age. I will let His strength sustain me, His purpose drive me, and His promises renew me. So I take a deep breath—my journey isn’t over—and the eternal prize awaits.