When Faith Is Tested “Strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.” Acts 14:22 Following Jesus was never promised to be an easy journey. We often speak about the blessings of walking with God, His provision, His goodness, His faithfulness and His love. And all of these are wonderfully true. But what about the difficult seasons? The storms, the disappointments, the persecution, the suffering and the times when life simply doesn’t make sense? Acts 14:22 doesn’t say we might experience tribulations. It tells us that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God. Just before these words were spoken, Paul had been stoned and left for dead in Lystra. Yet he got up, continued his journey and returned to strengthen and encourage the very disciples who would face their own difficulties. He wasn’t preaching something he hadn’t experienced. He understood what it meant to follow Jesus when the cost was great. But there is something important we must understand. Our suffering doesn’t earn us a place in God’s kingdom. Salvation is a gift of grace received through faith in Jesus Christ. Tribulations are not the price of admission, but they are part of the journey. And that brings me to a question. How deep does our faith really go? Jesus spoke about this in the parable of the sower in Matthew 13. Some received the Word with joy, but because they had no deep roots, when trouble or persecution came, they quickly fell away. Their faith looked healthy on the surface, but it had nothing to sustain it when the storms came. And I wonder how often we are like that. It’s easy to praise God when everything is going well, when prayers are answered, provision is flowing and life feels good. But what happens when the answers don’t come? When the provision seems scarce? When the healing hasn’t happened? When the very things we have prayed about seem to get worse rather than better?

What Makes His Heart Break? “Lord, move my heart with the things that break Yours.” Today, while listening to worship music and waiting on God, I drifted off for a moment. When I woke, I felt physically refreshed, but there were words stirring deep within my heart. “Move my heart with the things that break Yours.” Those words caught my attention and caused me to wonder: What actually breaks the heart of God? And how do I become so close to Him that the things that move His heart begin to move mine? If we want to understand the heart of the Father, we need to look at Jesus, because He is the perfect reflection of God’s heart. In Matthew 9:36, Jesus looked upon the crowds and was moved with compassion because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. He saw beyond their outward appearance and recognised their confusion, struggles, and spiritual need. His heart was moved by those who were lost and burdened. In John 11:35, we see Jesus standing at the tomb of Lazarus, weeping. He knew He was about to raise Lazarus from the dead, yet He was still moved by the grief and sorrow surrounding Him. His heart was moved by human suffering. In Mark 3:5, Jesus was grieved by the hardness of people’s hearts. Their religious thinking had become more important than showing mercy to someone in need. His heart was grieved when compassion was replaced by rules and love was withheld. And in Luke 19:41, Jesus wept over Jerusalem because the people could not recognise the way of peace that was before them. His heart broke for those who could not see what would bring them life. As I thought about these things, another question began to form. How do I learn to love the way He loves? How do I see people the way He sees them? How do I become sensitive to the things that grieve His heart? And perhaps the answer is simpler than we sometimes make it. We need to spend time with Him. Not always asking for something. Not always seeking an answer, a revelation, or a direction. Not even trying to accomplish something for Him.

Worship Is Not Just the Prelude It Is Ministry Scripture: 2 Kings 3:15 “But now bring me a minstrel. And it came to pass, when the minstrel played, that the hand of the LORD came upon him.” I have been thinking today about the connection between worship, the presence of God, and the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Have we sometimes reduced worship to a few songs we sing before the preaching begins? Something to prepare the congregation for the message, rather than recognising that God may already be ministering in our midst? Throughout Scripture, worship and praise are far more than singing songs or creating an atmosphere. They are powerful expressions of faith and surrender through which God can work in extraordinary ways. In 2 Kings 3, the prophet Elisha was troubled by the circumstances surrounding him. Before delivering the word of the Lord, he made an unusual request. “Bring me a minstrel.” As the musician played, the hand of the Lord came upon Elisha, and he received a prophetic word. Elisha didn’t ask for silence. He asked for music. Worship helped shift his attention from the circumstances around him towards God, preparing his heart to receive divine revelation. And we see this throughout Scripture. When David played his harp, the troubling spirit departed from Saul 1 Samuel 16:23. When Jehoshaphat sent singers ahead of the army, God moved against their enemies 2 Chronicles 20:21–22 When the people praised God in unity at the dedication of the temple, His glory filled the house 2 Chronicles 5:13–14. When Paul and Silas prayed and sang in prison, an earthquake shook the foundations, opening the doors and loosening their chains Acts 16:25–26. There is something powerful about praise! Psalm 100:4 tells us to “Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise.” And Paul declares in 1 Corinthians 14:15: “I will sing with the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding also.” There is a dimension of worship that goes beyond simply singing words from a screen. As we surrender our hearts and become sensitive to the Holy Spirit, the gifts of the Spirit can begin to operate.

The Voice I Long to Hear Your words paint the sky, All the colours from Your voice Pour out in an explosion, Vibrant and intense. Light and colour bursting forth, As creation comes to life At the sound of Your voice. The voice of truth That lights the darkness, Making a pathway Into the great unknown. Oh, the mystery of Your voice, Who can fathom its wonder? A word that creates, A word that heals, A word that restores, A word that brings life from the dust. Your voice is the one I long to hear, Words of comfort and peace Drawing me near. Words that speak of Your great love, Words that bring life. Who has the words of life? None but You. Where can I find the words That comfort the soul, That bring peace to the troubled heart, That make the broken whole? Your voice is in the small And in the great, In the roar of the wind And the silence In the eye of the storm. The voice that spoke creation into being, That painted the heavens With colours beyond imagination, Is the same voice I long to hear. And one day, The words I long to hear above all others, “Well done, My child.” Yet as I listen, The voice of the world Tries to whisper in my ears. The noise grows louder, Trying to drown out Your voice, Trying to steal the peace Your words bring. But as I meditate On Your words of truth, I begin to hear You Speaking above the noise. Your voice of truth Breaking through the confusion, Your words of life Bringing light into the darkness, Your words of love Drawing me near. And there I find comfort. There I find peace. There I find the voice My heart has been longing to hear. For the voice that paints the sky, That fills creation with colour and light, That speaks life into the dust, Is the very voice That speaks to my heart. Your voice is the one I long to hear.

The God Who Dwells With the Broken and Runs to the Lost “For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: ‘I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite.’” Isaiah 57:15 I was reflecting on this scripture today, and something beautiful stood out to me. God is holy. He is high and lifted up. He inhabits eternity. He is completely set apart from creation, untouched by sin and unconstrained by time. Yet in the very same verse, He tells us that He also dwells with the contrite and lowly in spirit. Think about that for a moment. The God who inhabits eternity chooses to dwell with the broken. He doesn’t mention palaces, wealth, power or those who appear to have everything together. Instead, He speaks of those who are humble, broken and deeply aware of their need for Him. Those who have been crushed by life. Those who have made mistakes. Those who are struggling under the weight of their own failings. Those who feel overlooked, forgotten or unworthy. These are the very people God says He chooses to dwell with. And what I find even more beautiful is why He chooses to dwell with them. He says it is to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite. He doesn’t come to remind them of their failures. He doesn’t come to condemn them or demand that they somehow put themselves back together before He will draw near. He comes to revive them. To breathe new life into places that have been crushed. To restore hope where hope has been lost. To bring strength where weakness has taken hold. To remind those who feel forgotten that they have never been forgotten by Him. A contrite heart is one that recognises its own sin, weakness and need for God. And perhaps that is where true revival begins. Not when we finally have everything together, but when we stop pretending that we do.