The Patience of God, Revisited

Posted on July 26, 2026 by Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter

Introduction: Growing Older… and (Hopefully) Wiser

One of the unexpected joys of growing older is occasionally realizing that God has been quietly changing you.

Not all at once.

Not dramatically.

Almost so gradually that you don’t notice it happening.

Until one day you realize you’re responding differently than you would have years ago.

I had one of those moments recently.

As I’ve shared in previous posts, my retirement has involved spending a great deal of time working on projects around our new home in Wyoming. Those projects have also given me something I never anticipated: many hours with my almost-four-year-old grandson.

He’s become my little coworker.

He asks a thousand questions.

He wants to help with everything.

Sometimes he actually helps.

Sometimes… he mostly slows me down.

And you know what?

I love every minute of it.

That surprised me.

Not because there’s anything wrong with him.

But because years ago, when my own children were little, I suspect I would have become impatient with their “help”.

Back then, I was usually trying to accomplish something. Get things done. Lots of things.

Now…

I’m trying to enjoy someone.

Somewhere along the way, I think God has made me a little more patient.

Please don’t misunderstand me.

I still have plenty of room to grow.

But I do think I’ve come a long way from where I once was.

And that realization led me to another thought.

If I’ve Grown More Patient…

…how patient must God be?

After all, He isn’t merely older than I am.

He is eternal.

The Ancient of Days.

The One who has never been in a hurry because He has never been constrained by time.

Scripture repeatedly describes Him this way:

The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love.

—Psalm 103:8 (NIV)

Slow to anger.

Patient.

Not because He ignores sin.

But because His love is greater than His desire to punish.

Patient Even with His Enemies

Perhaps the greatest display of God’s patience is found in the cross.

In his letter to the church in Rome (and to all of us), Paul the Apostle writes:

Borrowed from YouVersion

Think about that.

God didn’t wait until we got our act together.

He didn’t wait until we deserved forgiveness.

He didn’t even wait until we stopped opposing Him.

Paul goes on to say:

For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son…

—Romans 5:10 (NIV)

Enemies.

Not merely indifferent.

Not confused.

Enemies.

And yet God responded…

not with revenge…

but with rescue.

That is patience beyond anything I can comprehend.

And He’s Still Patient

Sometimes I imagine God looking down at me after I’ve said something I shouldn’t have.

Thought something I shouldn’t have.

Or responded in a way that doesn’t reflect Jesus very well.

In my mind, I picture Him sighing.

“Come on, Dave… you can do better than that.”

Maybe you’ve imagined something similar.

But then I remember the gospel.

Romans 8:1 reminds us:

Borrowed from YouVersion

Notice what Paul doesn’t say.

He doesn’t say God ignores our sin.

He says we are no longer condemned because Jesus has already borne that condemnation.

So instead of pushing me away…

God picks me up.

Dusts me off.

Reminds me whose I am.

And gently calls me to keep becoming more like His Son.

I can’t help but think of Jesus’ words to the woman caught in adultery:

“Then neither do I condemn you… Go now and leave your life of sin.”

—John 8:11 (NIV)

Grace first.
Transformation second.
That’s God’s way.

Jesus sits beside a weary man in a peaceful garden, offering comfort and patient encouragement as the evening sun shines through the trees.

Becoming Like Our Father

The more I think about God’s patience with me…

the more I want that same patience to overflow into my relationships with others.

Especially the people closest to me.

Children.

Grandchildren.

Friends.

Neighbors. Even the annoying ones.

Strangers.

Perhaps spiritual maturity isn’t measured merely by how much Scripture we’ve memorized.

Or how much theology we know.

Perhaps one evidence of becoming more like Jesus is simply becoming more patient.

After all, patience is one of the fruits of the Spirit.

Not the fruits of trying harder.

The fruits of the Spirit.

As His Spirit changes us…

our patience grows.

A Final Encouragement

Looking back, I’m grateful that God has slowly been teaching me patience.

Not because I’ve mastered it.

Far from it.

But because every small step reminds me of Someone whose patience is infinitely greater than mine.

A God who loved me while I opposed Him.

A God who still loves me when I stumble.

A God who refuses to give up on me.

If that’s how patient He is with me…

perhaps I can be a little more patient with others.

Especially the little coworker wearing work gloves who keeps asking,

“Grandalf… can I help?”

Perhaps the reason I can enjoy his “help” more today isn’t because he’s gotten better about actually helping. It’s because God has been changing me.

A Question to Sit With

Who in my life has been testing my patience lately…

and how might remembering God’s extraordinary patience with me change the way I respond?

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Buried Blessings

Posted on July 19, 2026 by Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter

Introduction: Not the Retirement I Imagined

If I’m honest, retirement hasn’t started quite the way I imagined.

Like many people approaching retirement, I pictured more days shaped by what I wanted to do.

More adventures.

More leisurely mornings.

More writing.

More time enjoying this new season of life with my wife.

Instead…

I’ve spent much of the past month and a half digging trenches.

Repairing drainage.

Fixing water problems.

Making repairs.

Running to the hardware store so often that I think they should probably assign me my own parking space.

Sometimes it has felt like one long project interrupted only by the next one.

And while I’ve tried to keep a good attitude, there have certainly been moments when I’ve thought,

“Lord… surely we’re almost done now?”

Maybe you’ve experienced seasons like that too.

Not necessarily with a house.

But with life.

One challenge gives way to another.

One problem gets solved…

and another appears.

Looking for the Blessings

During this time, I’ve tried to remind myself of the obvious blessings.

I’m thankful we were able to buy this home.

I’m thankful we’re close to our children and grandchildren.

I’m thankful I have the time to work on these projects because I’m retired.

I’m thankful God has given me the health, strength, and resources to keep moving forward.

Those are all genuine blessings.

But they aren’t the blessings I want to tell you about today.

Because recently I realized…

God had buried another blessing underneath all the dirt.

Literally.

An Unexpected Helper

As I’ve mentioned before, I have two grandsons.

One recently turned two.

The other will soon celebrate his fourth birthday.

I adore both of them.

But if I’m being honest, I’ve often felt a stronger connection with the younger one.

The older grandson naturally gravitates toward his mom (my daughter) and my wife whenever they are around.

That’s perfectly normal.

He’s four.

Of course he wants his mom.

The younger one, on the other hand, has generally been content being relegated to grandpa when mom is occupied with his big brother.

So that’s simply how our relationships developed.

Or so I thought.

Grandalf’s Little Coworker

Then all these house projects came along.

One thing I’ve learned about my older grandson is that he absolutely loves having a job to do.

Whenever he sees me working outside, he comes running.

“Grandalf… can I help?” (I asked to have the boys call me “Grandalf”, with a tip of my hat to “Gandalf” from Lord of the Rings.)

My answer to him is always yes.

He’s so serious about his responsibilities that we bought him his own pair of work gloves.

He loves them.

Now…

Let’s be honest.

He isn’t exactly speeding up the projects.

In fact, if anything, they take a little longer.

But I’ve discovered something.

The projects aren’t really about the projects anymore.

They’re about us.

While I dig trenches, he asks a thousand questions.

“What does that tool do?”

“Why are you digging there?”

“Where does that pipe go?”

“Why are you doing that?”

I always take the time to try to answer his questions and explain things in ways I think he’ll understand. I love watching his little mind soak it all up.

Sometimes we even pause work altogether so we can dance to the music I have playing.

During one particularly hot afternoon, he decided his primary assignment was spraying Grandalf with water.

Oddly enough…

that turned out to be genuinely helpful.

I’ve laughed more than I expected.

Smiled more than I expected.

Connected more deeply than I expected.

A grandfather and his young grandson work together on a backyard drainage project, illustrating the unexpected blessings God can reveal in the midst of life's challenges.

The Blessing Hidden Beneath the Dirt

One afternoon it suddenly occurred to me.

If these house projects hadn’t happened…

I probably wouldn’t have spent nearly this much one-on-one time with my grandson.

God had buried a blessing inside a trial.
What I initially saw as an interruption had quietly become one of my favorite parts of retirement so far.

Would I have chosen many weeks of drainage and other household problems to get there?

Probably not.

But would I trade these afternoons with my little coworker now?

Not a chance.

I Wonder…

That experience has made me wonder something.

I wonder how many blessings God buries inside our hardships.

I don’t pretend to know why He does it.

Perhaps it’s because blessings discovered unexpectedly become treasures.

Perhaps it’s because hardship slows us down enough to notice what we would otherwise overlook.

Perhaps it’s because He’s teaching us to keep looking for His goodness, even when life feels heavy.

Whatever the reason…

I’m beginning to suspect that some of God’s sweetest gifts are hidden beneath piles of frustration.

Looking More Carefully

James wrote:

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds…”

—James 1:2 (NIV)

For years, that verse puzzled me.

How can we possibly rejoice in trials?

Maybe part of the answer is this:

Because we never know what God is growing…

or giving…

or revealing…

beneath them.

Sometimes the blessing isn’t the end of the trial.
Sometimes it’s what we discover while walking through it.

A Final Encouragement

I’m still looking forward to the day when all these projects are finally behind us.

I’m sure I’ll enjoy our home even more then.

But I also hope I never forget what these projects gave me.

A little boy in work gloves.

A thousand curious questions.

A few impromptu dances.

Some unexpected laughs.

And a friendship with my grandson that’s deeper today than it was just a few months ago.

That was a blessing I never would have found…

if God hadn’t buried it beneath a pile of dirt.

A Question to Sit With

What blessing might God have buried inside the very challenge I’ve been asking Him to remove?

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God Is Good Even When Life Isn’t

Posted on July 12, 2026 by Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter

Introduction: One More Thing…and Then Another

Have you ever had one of those seasons where it seems like life just won’t let up?

You solve one problem…

only to discover another one waiting around the corner.

That’s been my life lately.

A little over a month ago, I retired from my “day job”. In preparation for that, a few months earlier, my wife and I had purchased a home in Casper, Wyoming. We love the location. We love being close to two of our children and our two grandchildren. We love the possibilities this new chapter of life holds.

What we haven’t loved are the seemingly endless surprises that have come with the house.

Drainage problems.

Water issues.

Repairs.

Unexpected expenses.

Projects that looked simple but somehow turned into much larger undertakings.

Sometimes it feels as though every time we finish one project, another one (or two or three) appears to take its place.

If I’m honest, there have been moments when I’ve wondered:

“Lord… can we catch a break?”

Perhaps you’ve been there too.

Maybe your challenges have nothing to do with a house.

Perhaps it’s your health.

Your finances.

A difficult relationship.

A prodigal child.

Loneliness.

Grief.

Or simply one exhausting season after another.

When life becomes difficult, one temptation quietly begins creeping into our hearts.

We start focusing almost exclusively on what’s wrong.

God Is Still Good

One of the simplest—and most profound—statements in all of Scripture appears over and over again.

Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His love endures forever.

—Psalm 136:1 (NIV)

I’ve noticed something about that verse.

It doesn’t say:

“Give thanks because life is going well.”

It doesn’t say:

“Give thanks because all your prayers have been answered.”

Or:

“Give thanks because your circumstances are easy.”

Instead, the reason for our gratitude is much deeper.

God is good.
Not merely because of what He does.
But because of who He is.

His character doesn’t fluctuate with my circumstances.

He is no less good on my hardest day than on my easiest.

The Enemy Loves a Negative Focus

I’ve become convinced that one of the enemy’s favorite strategies is remarkably simple.

He doesn’t always have to destroy our lives.

Sometimes he simply has to redirect our attention.

Toward disappointment.

Toward frustration.

Toward everything that isn’t going the way we hoped.

The more we stare at our problems, the larger they seem to become.

Eventually they begin crowding out our gratitude.

Hope slowly gives way to discouragement.

Optimism gives way to negativity.

We begin wondering if God has forgotten us.

Or worse…

whether He is somehow punishing us.

I’ve had those thoughts.

Maybe you have too.

But they’re not from the heart of God.

Paul points out in his second letter to the church at Corinth:

The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.

—2 Corinthians 4:4 (NIV)

Gratitude Changes What We See

I’ve found myself trying to ask a different question.

Not:

“Lord, why is this happening?”

But:

“Lord, what are You teaching me through this?”

That simple shift changes everything.

Instead of dwelling on what is going wrong, I begin remembering what is going right.

I’m thankful that we were able to purchase this home.

I’m thankful that one of our children and our grandchildren live nearby, and one of our other children lives in the home full-time, looking after it when we are away.

I’m thankful that God has given us the resources to address these problems.

I’m thankful for the health and energy to keep working.

I’m thankful for a wife who walks beside me through all of it.

Most of all…

I’m thankful that none of these circumstances change who God is.

A homeowner stands beside an unfinished drainage project as sunlight breaks through storm clouds, symbolizing God's goodness during life's challenges.
Life isn’t always good. But God is still good. Always.

This Too Shall Pass

One thought has encouraged me repeatedly during these challenging times.

This season will not last forever.

Eventually the projects will be finished.

The repairs will be complete.

The frustrations will fade into stories we’ll laugh about someday.

We’ll finally have time simply to enjoy our home and all that this town has to offer.

But even that isn’t my greatest hope.

Later in his second letter to the Corinthians, Paul reminds us:

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.

—2 Corinthians 4:17 (NIV)

Paul isn’t minimizing suffering.

He experienced more hardship than most of us ever will.

Instead, he’s comparing our temporary struggles with the eternity that awaits those who belong to Christ.

When viewed against forever…

Even our hardest seasons become temporary. Light. Momentary.

The Best News of All

Ultimately, my greatest reason for gratitude has nothing to do with my house.

Or my retirement.

Or my health.

Or my circumstances.

My greatest reason for gratitude is that Jesus Christ gave His life so that I could spend eternity with Him.

Because of His death and resurrection, my future is secure.

Nothing happening today can change that.

Nothing happening tomorrow can take it away.

That doesn’t erase today’s problems.

But it does put them into their proper perspective.

A Final Encouragement

Life isn’t always good.
Sometimes it’s exhausting.
Sometimes it’s heartbreaking.
Sometimes it feels like one challenge after another.
But God is still good.
Always.

His goodness is not measured by the absence of difficulty.

It is revealed most clearly in the cross.

And because of that…

I can choose gratitude.

Not because every circumstance deserves it.

But because He does.

A Question to Sit With

What circumstance has been competing for my attention lately…

and how might my perspective change if I chose to focus instead on the unchanging goodness of God?

Posted in Faith & Spiritual Growth, Faith in Difficult Times, Walking with God | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Freedom Is Never Free

Posted on July 5, 2026 by Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter

Introduction: Freedom Worth Celebrating

This weekend, Americans across the country have celebrated Independence Day.

There were fireworks.

Parades.

Cookouts.

Flags waving in the summer breeze.

It’s a joyful tradition, and one I’m grateful to be part of.

As I reflect on the Fourth of July this year, however, I find myself thinking about freedom itself.

Freedom is one of those words we use so often that we can forget how extraordinary it really is.

And more importantly…

how costly it is.

Freedom Always Has a Price

The freedoms we enjoy as Americans did not simply appear.

They were purchased.

Over the past 250 years, countless men and women have willingly laid down their lives so that future generations could live in freedom.

Many left home never to return.

Many families paid a price that words cannot adequately express.

Whether we know their names or not, we are beneficiaries of their sacrifice.

I realize that America has never been perfect.

No nation this side of heaven ever will be.

But I also believe we have much to be thankful for.

The freedoms we enjoy are remarkable.

And gratitude is an appropriate response.

An Even Greater Freedom

As thankful as I am for political freedom, Scripture points us toward an even greater freedom.

Jesus said:

“If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

—John 8:31–32 (NIV)

At first glance, those words seem almost too simple.

Truth sets us free.

But what truth?

A few verses later, Jesus makes His meaning unmistakable:

“So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”

—John 8:36 (NIV)

The Truth is not merely an idea.
It is a person.
Jesus Himself.

In his letter to the church at Corinth, Paul reminds us:

Borrowed from YouVersion

Love Paid the Price

Just as our earthly freedoms came at a cost, so did our spiritual freedom.

Jesus didn’t simply tell us we were forgiven.

He purchased our freedom.

On the cross.

The apostle Paul reminds us:

Borrowed from YouVersion

And Jesus said:

“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

—John 15:13 (NIV)

Every time I read those words, I’m struck by how perfectly they describe what Jesus did for us.

He didn’t merely teach about love.

He demonstrated it.

Our freedom from sin, shame, guilt, and death was purchased by the greatest act of love the world has ever known.

Freedom Is Meant to Be Lived

One thing I’ve noticed is that freedom isn’t merely something we possess.

It’s something we practice.

Paul warns us:

“You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love.”

—Galatians 5:13 (NIV)

That’s an interesting way to think about freedom.

Freedom isn’t simply the ability to do whatever we want.

It is the opportunity to become who God created us to be.

Real freedom enables us to love.

To forgive.

To serve.

To live without being enslaved by sin, bitterness, fear, or selfishness.

Don’t Take Freedom for Granted

If I’m honest, I sometimes wonder whether one of the greatest dangers we face is not losing freedom…

but forgetting its value, and then giving it away voluntarily..

Anything we enjoy every day can slowly become ordinary.

We begin to assume it has always been there.

That it always will be.

Freedom—whether political or spiritual—is too precious to take for granted.

It deserves our gratitude.

Our stewardship.

And our remembrance.

A Final Encouragement

As the smoke from the fireworks dissipates and the excitement from such a momentous anniversary celebration wanes, I hope we’ll hang on to the memories we made.

Cherish the time we spent with family and friends.

Celebrate the remarkable blessings we have received.

But as we return to the routine of our daily lives, I also hope we’ll pause for a quieter moment.

To remember those who gave their lives so that we could enjoy the extraordinary freedom we experience.

And to remember the One who gave His life so that we could live forever.

A weathered wooden cross and an American flag at sunrise symbolize the sacrifices that secured both spiritual and earthly freedom.

One secured our earthly freedom.

The other secured our eternal freedom.

May we never take either for granted.
Both remind us that freedom is never free.
It is always purchased through sacrifice.

A Question to Sit With

This Independence Day, what freedoms have I begun to take for granted…

and how can gratitude shape the way I live in response?

Posted in Faith and Culture, Gratitude and Thankfulness, Holidays and Reflections, Walking with God | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Made for This

Posted on June 28, 2026 by Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter

Introduction: Unexpected Assignments

I retired a little less than a month ago.

Like many people approaching retirement, I had dreams and plans for this new season of life. More time with my wife. Travel. New adventures. Writing. Serving. Learning. Exploring what God might have next.

And thankfully, many of those things are happening or are on their way.

But retirement has also brought something I didn’t fully anticipate.

House projects.

Lots of house projects.

Last spring, my wife and I purchased a home in Wyoming. We love it—or are ready to. It is beautiful, sits in a wonderful neighborhood, and has already become a place filled with memories.

But as anyone who has ever purchased an existing home knows, houses have a way of revealing surprises.

Some of those surprises are delightful.

Others… not so much.

Since moving in, we have encountered one unexpected project after another. Drainage problems. Water issues. Repairs. Improvements. Things that seemed simple but somehow turned into much larger undertakings.

If I’m honest, there have been moments when I’ve found myself asking:

“Lord, why this?”

“Why now?”

“Why another project?”

Perhaps you’ve asked similar questions. I’m pretty sure my wife has.

But maybe your questions weren’t about a house.

Maybe about your health.

Your family.

Your work.

A difficult relationship.

A season of caregiving.

An unexpected loss.

A responsibility you never asked for.

We all encounter assignments in life that we would not have chosen for ourselves.

And often, we don’t understand why God has allowed them.

God’s Workmanship

One of my favorite passages in Scripture says this:

For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

—Ephesians 2:10 (NIV)

Think about that for a moment.

God prepared good works for us to do.

Prepared in advance.

Long before we were born.

Long before we retired.

Long before we purchased that house, accepted that job, faced that challenge, or entered that difficult season.

God already knew.

And somehow, in ways that often remain mysterious to us, He has woven these assignments into our lives.

That doesn’t mean every circumstance is easy.

Or enjoyable.

Or immediately understandable.

But it does mean that none of it is wasted.

If God has placed this assignment in front of me, then by His grace, I was made for it.

It Isn’t Always Ours to Understand

I have come to realize that much of the Christian life involves faithfully doing the next thing God places in front of us, even when we don’t understand why.

Frankly, I would prefer a detailed explanation.

A roadmap.

A spreadsheet.

Maybe even a PowerPoint presentation.

But God rarely works that way.

Instead, He usually gives us enough light for the next step.

Not the next hundred.

Isaiah reminds us:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord.

—Isaiah 55:8 (NIV)

Sometimes our calling is simply obedience.

To trust.

To serve.

To repair what needs repairing.

To love the people God has placed in our lives.

To keep showing up.

To keep moving forward.

And to do all of it leaning into His strength rather than our own.

Faithfulness Doesn’t Have to Be Visible

Another challenge is that many of the things God calls us to do seem invisible.

Our culture celebrates visible accomplishments.

Promotions.

Awards.

Recognition.

Followers.

Achievements.

But the Kingdom of God often operates differently.

Some of the most important work done for God’s Kingdom happens quietly.

Unseen.

Uncelebrated.

I have a dear friend who prays fiercely for others every day.

Sometimes I think he struggles to feel as though he’s contributing to the lives of those around him in meaningful ways.

Most of the people he prays for daily have no idea that he’s stepping onto the spiritual battlefield on their behalf regularly.

No crowds applaud.

No headlines are written.

No one may ever fully understand the eternal impact of those prayers.

And yet Scripture tells us:

The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.

—James 5:16 (NIV)

Powerful.

Effective.

Not because others see it.

Because God does.

Jesus Himself said:

“Your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”

—Matthew 6:4 (NIV)

The audience that matters most has perfect attendance.

Working for an Audience of One

Perhaps this is why Paul wrote:

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.

—Colossians 3:23 (NIV)

Whatever you do.

Whether you’re leading a company.

Changing diapers.

Caring for an aging parent.

Fixing drainage problems.

Praying quietly for a friend.

Writing encouraging notes.

Serving behind the scenes.

Or simply doing the next thing God has placed before you.

Do it wholeheartedly.

Do it joyfully.

Do it for Him.

Because you were made for this.

Not necessarily this exact task.

But this life of faithful obedience.

This life of partnering with God in the good works He prepared for you long ago.

A Final Encouragement

There are still days when I stand in my yard, looking at yet another unexpected project, and wonder what exactly God is up to.

I still don’t know.

But I’m learning that understanding isn’t always required.
Faithfulness is.
Joy is.
Trust is.

And so, one project at a time, one day at a time, I will continue leaning into God’s wisdom, strength, and the joy of the Lord.

Because if He has placed this assignment in front of me, then by His grace, I was made for it.

And so were you.

A Question to Sit With

What assignment has God placed in front of you right now…

and how might your perspective change if you saw it not as an interruption, but as part of the good work He prepared in advance for you to do?

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Don’t Forget to Attach the Rudder

Posted on June 20, 2026 by Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter

Earlier this week, I spent a couple of days with one of my oldest and closest friends.

As always, we had a wonderful time together. Some friendships are like that. No matter how much time passes between visits, you simply pick up where you left off. We laughed, shared stories, reminisced about old times, and enjoyed being together.

Yet when I drove away, I found myself carrying a low-grade sense of sadness for him.

My friend has never shown much interest in God. Late last year, he lost his job. After an unsuccessful search for another one, he decided to retire. More recently, he made the difficult decision to divorce his wife.

Today, he is free to do almost anything he wants. He can travel wherever he chooses. He can spend his days however he wishes. His calendar is largely unconstrained by obligations.

On the surface, that sounds appealing.

But as I reflected on our conversations, I couldn’t shake a nagging question: What gives his life meaning now?

Please don’t misunderstand me. I am not judging him. In fact, I genuinely enjoy spending time with him and value our friendship deeply. Rather, our time together caused me to reflect on a broader question that applies to all of us.

Where does our sense of purpose come from?

For many people, purpose comes from a career. We spend decades building a profession, solving problems, achieving goals, earning promotions, and providing for our families. Work becomes such a significant part of our identity that it can be difficult to imagine life without it.

Others find purpose in accumulating wealth, pursuing experiences, collecting accomplishments, or chasing the next adventure.

The problem is that all of those things eventually come to an end.

Jobs end.

Careers end.

Health declines.

Relationships change.

Even the most exciting adventures eventually become memories.

If our sense of meaning is built entirely upon temporary things, what happens when those things are gone?

As I pondered this question, I was reminded of one of the first kayaking adventures my wife and I took together.

Kayak on a calm river illustrating how God's guidance provides direction, purpose, and meaning in life


Our first kayak was inflatable. It was wonderfully convenient because we could pack it into the back of our vehicle and take it almost anywhere. The downside was that it required a fair amount of set-up before each trip.

On one particular outing, I carefully inflated the kayak, assembled the paddles, loaded our gear, and carried everything down to the water.

Then we climbed in and started paddling.

Something didn’t feel right.

We were moving, but not very effectively. We seemed to drift aimlessly. At times, we found ourselves turning in circles. We paddled harder, but we weren’t accomplishing much.

Then I realized what I had done.

In all my preparations, I had forgotten to install the rudder.

Back on shore, I attached it, and suddenly everything changed. The same paddling that had previously produced confusion and frustration now produced forward progress. We had direction. We had purpose. We knew where we were headed.

The kayak could move without a rudder.
It just couldn’t go anywhere meaningful.

The older I get, the more I realize that many people live their lives that way.

They are busy.

They are active.

They are productive.

They may even be successful.

But they are missing the rudder.

They have motion without direction.

Activity without purpose.

Achievement without meaning.

Scripture teaches that God created us for far more than simply filling our days until our time on earth is over.

Paul writes:



For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

—Ephesians 2:10 (NIV)

Think about that for a moment.

God has a purpose for your life.

Not just when you are young.

Not just when you are employed.

Not just when you are raising children.

Not just when everything is going well.

Always.

If you belong to Christ, your purpose did not end when your career ended. It did not disappear when your children moved out. It does not depend on your title, your income, your achievements, or your stage of life.

God still has good works prepared for you.

God still has people for you to encourage.

God still has opportunities for you to serve.

God still has lessons for you to learn and ways for you to grow.

The writer of Proverbs puts it this way:

Borrowed from YouVersion

God doesn’t promise an easy path.
He promises a straight one.
He provides direction.
He gives meaning to our efforts.

He supplies purpose that transcends our circumstances.

Looking back on my own retirement, I realize how grateful I am for this truth.

My job was meaningful, and I enjoyed much of the work I did over the years. But my purpose was never found in my job.

Today, I still have a wonderful wife to love.

Children and grandchildren to invest in.

Friends to encourage.

Lessons to learn.

People to serve.

A God to know more deeply.

The same God who guided me through my working years continues to guide me today.

That is what gives my life meaning.

Without Him, retirement could easily become an endless search for ways to fill the calendar.

With Him, retirement becomes another chapter in an ongoing adventure.

As I think back to that day on the water, I am reminded that the kayak’s problem was not a lack of effort. We were paddling plenty hard.

The problem was a lack of direction.

Perhaps that is a question worth asking ourselves.

Are we simply paddling?

Or have we remembered to attach the rudder?

May we seek the One who not only gives us strength for the journey, but also provides the direction, purpose, meaning, and hope that make the journey worthwhile.

Posted in Purposeful Living, Walking with God | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

How to Overcome Fear: Lean into Love

Posted on June 14, 2026 by Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter

Introduction: Fear Comes Easily

Fear is one of the most universal human experiences.

Some fears are obvious.

Fear for our health.

Fear for our children.

Fear about finances.

Fear about the future.

Fear of failure.

Fear of loss.

Fear of being rejected.

Fear of not being enough.

If I’m honest, fear has shown up in my own life more times than I’d care to admit.

Sometimes it arrives like someone banging on your front door.

Other times it quietly slips in through a side door.

And once it enters, fear has a way of making itself at home.

It narrows our vision.

Clouds our judgment.

Makes us forget how big and powerful and capable our God is.

Steals our peace.

And if left unchecked, it can begin making decisions for us.

But Scripture offers a surprising answer to fear.

Not courage.

Not willpower.

Not trying harder.

Love.

Perfect Love Casts Out Fear

One of the most meaningful verses to me in all of Scripture says this:

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.
—1 John 4:18 (NIV)

I’ve always found that verse both comforting and challenging.

Because if I’m being honest, there are still plenty of times when I feel fear.

Does that mean I don’t love God enough?

Or that God doesn’t love me enough?

I don’t think that’s what John is saying.

I think he’s inviting us into something deeper.

Fear and love pull us in opposite directions.

Fear says:

Protect yourself.

Control the outcome.

Assume the worst.

Love says:

Trust.

Receive.

Rest.

The more deeply we experience God’s love, the less room fear has to take root.

Perfect love doesn’t merely coexist with fear.

It chases it away.

What Does It Mean for Love to Cast Out Fear?

I’ve often wondered exactly what John meant when he wrote that perfect love casts out fear.

After all, even faithful Christians experience fear.

The disciples did.

David did.

Paul did.

Even Jesus experienced deep anguish in the Garden of Gethsemane.

So John can’t mean that followers of Christ will never feel afraid.

I think the key is in the next phrase:

“because fear has to do with punishment.”

At its deepest level, fear often asks questions like:

Am I enough?

Am I safe?

Am I alone?

Have I failed too badly?

Will God give up on me?

The Gospel answers every one of those fears.

The cross tells us that our punishment has already been borne by Christ.

The resurrection tells us that death itself has been defeated.

And God’s love tells us that we are not abandoned.

Perfect love casts out fear because it reminds us that we belong to God.
And if we belong to Him, ultimately there is nothing to fear.

If God Is for Us…

Paul takes this idea even further in one of my favorite chapters in the Bible:

Borrowed from YouVersion

What a remarkable question.

Paul doesn’t say no one will oppose us.

Clearly, they will.

He experienced opposition almost everywhere he went.

The question isn’t whether we will face difficulty.

The question is whether anything can ultimately prevail against a God who is for us.

And Paul’s answer is clear:

No.

A few verses later he writes:

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers… will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
—Romans 8:38–39 (NIV)

Nothing.

Not our circumstances.

Not our failures.

Not our fears.

Not even death itself.

If God is for us—and Scripture repeatedly tells us He is—then fear loses much of its power.

Fear Shrinks in the Presence of Love

I’ve noticed something in my own life.

Fear tends to grow in isolation.

It thrives in uncertainty.

It feeds on “what if?”

But love does something different.

Love draws us toward God.

Love reminds us whose we are.

Love tells us we are not alone.

When I remember that I am deeply loved by the Creator of the universe—not because of what I’ve done, but because of who He is—something changes.

The circumstances may not change immediately.

But my perspective does.

And often that’s where peace begins.

A man walks through a heart-shaped doorway from darkness and fear into light, symbolizing God's perfect love overcoming anxiety and fear.
Perfect love casts out fear because it reminds us that we belong to God. And if we belong to Him, ultimately there is nothing to fear.

What Do We Do When Fear Shows Up?

Because let’s be honest:

Even people of faith experience fear.

The question isn’t whether fear will knock.

The question is what we’ll do when it arrives.

Here are a few practices that help me when fear or anxiety begin to rise.

1. Name the Fear

Fear grows in the dark.

Bringing it into the light often reduces its power.

Tell God exactly what you’re afraid of.

He already knows.

Prayer isn’t informing God.

It’s inviting Him into the situation.

Borrowed from YouVersion

2. Remember What Is True

Fear often tells lies.

God speaks truth.

When anxiety rises, I try to remind myself:

God is good.

God is present.

God is sovereign.

God is faithful.

My feelings matter.

But they don’t always tell the whole story.

3. Surrender What You Cannot Control

This may be the hardest step.

Many of our fears come from trying to control outcomes that ultimately belong to God.

Psalm 46:10 reminds us:

Borrowed from YouVersion

He is God.

We are not.

And while that can feel unsettling at first, it is also deeply freeing.

4. Lean Into Love

This may be the most important step of all.

When fear rises, don’t pull away from God.

Lean into Him.

Spend time in Scripture.

Pray—which is to say, talk to Him like you would your best friend.

Worship.

Walk.

Sit quietly in His presence.

Remind yourself of His faithfulness in your own life.

Love changes us more deeply than fear ever could.

And God’s love is not fragile.

It’s steadfast.

Unchanging.

Eternal.

A Final Encouragement

Fear may visit us from time to time.

But we don’t have to let it move in.

Because fear does not get the final word.

Love does.

The cross tells us that.

The empty tomb confirms it.

And the Holy Spirit reminds us of it day after day.

If God is for us, who can be against us?

Not because life will always be easy.

But because we never walk through it alone.

The God who created the universe knows your name.

Calls you His child.

And loves you with a love stronger than fear.

A Question to Sit With

What fear have I been carrying lately…

and what would it look like to lean into God’s love instead of away from it?

Posted in Faith and Spiritual Growth, Walking with God | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

What Do You Do?

Posted on June 7, 2026 by Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter

Introduction: The Question We Always Ask

This past Friday, I retired from my full-time career.

Even as I write those words, they feel a little strange.

For more than forty years, I’ve had a ready answer when someone asked a question that seems to come up almost immediately whenever adults meet for the first time:

“What do you do?”

It’s one of the most common questions in our culture.

And for most of our working lives, it’s easy to answer.

“I’m a teacher.”

“I’m an engineer.”

“I’m a consultant.”

“I’m a nurse.”

“I’m a program manager. Healthcare technology leader.”

But what happens when that chapter ends?

Over the past few years, as I planned my transition into retirement, I spent a lot of time researching the subject. In fact, it led me to create an entire website dedicated to helping others navigate that journey.

One theme came up again and again:

Identity.

Many retirees struggle not because they don’t know what they’re retiring from.

They struggle because they don’t know what they’re retiring to.

For years, their work has answered the question:

Who am I?

And when the work goes away, the question remains.

Thankfully, knowing this challenge was coming gave me time to think about my own answer.

And I’ve come to realize that the best answer has very little to do with retirement.

The Best Answer

As a follower of Christ, one answer rises above all the others.

What do I do?

Whatever God wants me to do.

That may sound overly simplistic at first.

But the older I get, the more profound it seems.

My purpose was never ultimately tied to a job title.

It wasn’t tied to a paycheck.

It wasn’t tied to an employer.

Those things mattered.

Some of them mattered a great deal.

But they were never the source of my identity.

Long before I was an employee, a manager, a consultant, or a retiree…

I was a child of God.

And I still am.

Scripture reminds us:

Borrowed from YouVersion

Notice what John does not say.

He doesn’t say:

“That is what we do.”

He says:

“That is what we are.”

The world often defines us by our accomplishments.

God defines us by our relationship with Him.

And that identity doesn’t disappear when a career ends.

Following the Assignment

One of the beautiful things I’m looking forward to in retirement is that it creates space to ask a different question.

Not:

“What do I have to do today?”

But:

“What is God inviting me to do today?”

Sometimes the answer may involve serving.

Sometimes learning.

Sometimes helping.

Sometimes resting.

Sometimes simply being present with the people He has entrusted to me.

The assignment may change.

The calling to follow Him does not.

Traveling with My Favorite Person

One answer I’m especially excited about is this:

I get to go on adventures with my wife.

Thankfully, she retired recently as well.

For decades, much of our lives revolved around schedules, responsibilities, deadlines, school calendars, work calendars, and obligations.

Now we have an opportunity to explore.

To travel.

To experience new places.

To create new memories.

To learn new things.

To enjoy God’s creation together.

The destinations themselves will be wonderful.

But the real gift is getting to share them with my best friend.

Being Dad to Adults

Another answer is:

I’m still a dad.

That role didn’t retire.

In many ways, it’s become even more interesting.

When our children were little, they believed almost everything I told them.

For years, they were convinced I was 119½ years old.

I considered that one of my finer parenting accomplishments.

Back then, they naturally looked to my wife and me for guidance.

Now they’re adults.

They make their own decisions.

Their own plans.

Their own mistakes.

Sometimes that’s wonderful to watch.

Sometimes it’s painful, especially the mistakes part.

As a father, I want nothing but the best for them.

And there are moments when I wish I could spare them from learning certain lessons the hard way, the way I did.

When they ask for advice, I give it. Sometimes they take it.

Sometimes they need to discover things for themselves, just as I did.

But part of becoming an adult is making your own way in the world, so I get it.

It’s a reminder that God loves them even more than I do—and His hands are much bigger than mine, His arms much stronger.

And that’s comforting, because even when I can’t walk every step of the journey with them, He can.

Grandalf

Then there’s one of my favorite answers of all.

I’m Grandalf.

Or at least that’s what my grandsons are attempting to call me.

The older one has it figured out.

The younger one—who isn’t quite two yet—still has some work to do. But I love hearing him attempt it.

Being a grandparent is one of life’s great surprises.

People told me it would be special.

They were right. More than I ever understood.

There’s something beautiful about getting a front-row seat to watch a new generation discover the world.

The wonder.

The curiosity.

The laughter.

The energy.

And perhaps best of all, getting to love them deeply without being responsible for every decision they make.

That’s a pretty good arrangement.

Other Adventures Still Ahead

Thankfully, retirement doesn’t have to be the end of productivity.

At least not for me.

There are still places to see. Adventures to explore. Pictures to take.

Blogs and books and poems to write.

People to encourage, maybe even mentor or coach.

Games to build.

Ideas to explore.

Languages and musical instruments to learn.

Ministries to support.

Friends to spend time with.

And perhaps a little consulting along the way.

Not because I need another identity.

But because God still has work for me to do.

Different work.

Maybe better work.

Certainly more intentional work.

A Different Way to Answer the Question

So now, when someone asks me:

“What do you do?”

My answer may take a little longer than it used to.

But that’s okay.

Because I’ve realized something important.

The most important thing about me isn’t what I do.

It’s whose I am.
I am a child of God.
Everything else flows from there.

Traveler.

Husband.

Dad.

Grandalf.

Writer.

Friend.

Retiree.

Whatever God wants me to be next.

A Final Encouragement

Whether you’re retired or not, sooner or later life will force all of us to confront the same questions:

Who am I? What do I do?

The world will offer countless answers.

Your career.

Your accomplishments.

Your failures.

Your possessions.

Your status.

Your labels.

But none of those things were ever meant to carry the weight of your identity.

Only God can do that.

And the good news is that He already has.

You are not defined by what you do.

You are defined by whose you are.

A beloved child of God.

And that’s an identity that never retires.

A Question to Sit With

If everything I do were taken away tomorrow…

who would I still be?

Posted in Identity in Christ, Retirement Glide Path, Walking with God | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Slaying the Giants Within

Posted on May 31, 2026 by Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter

A little over a month ago, I wrote a post called The Spirit in You Is Greater, reflecting on the truth that we do not need to be afraid in this fallen and broken world because the Spirit of God living within us is greater than the spirit of this world.

After reading it, one of my faithful readers—and a dear friend—asked a thoughtful question:

“What if the thing that’s causing me to be afraid isn’t out there? What if it’s living inside my own mind?”

It’s a great question.

In fact, it’s a question I’ve been pondering ever since he asked it.

Sometimes the giants we face aren’t circumstances.

They’re thoughts.

Worries.

Fears.

Regrets.

What-ifs.

Memories we can’t seem to shake.

Anxieties about things that haven’t happened yet—and may never happen at all.

And if we’re honest, those giants can sometimes feel larger than anything happening around us.

The thought that eventually came to me is straightforward.

But as is often the case with God’s answers, simple doesn’t necessarily mean easy.

Paul’s Prescription for Inner Giants

Writing from prison—hardly an ideal situation—Paul gave the believers in Philippi these instructions:

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
—Philippians 4:6–7 (NIV)

What Paul Does Not Say

One of the things I love about this passage is what Paul doesn’t say.

He doesn’t say:

“Figure it out.”

He doesn’t say:

“Stop worrying.”

He doesn’t say:

“Try harder not to be anxious.”

Instead, he gives us a different path.

Bring it to God.

All of it.

The fears.
The worries.
The questions.
The scenarios we’ve played out a thousand times in our minds.

The giants.

Present your requests to God.

Not once.

Not only when things become unbearable.

In every situation.

The Giant Gets Stronger When We Feed It

I think Paul understood something about human nature.

Our minds are incredible gifts from God.

But left unchecked, they can also become factories for fear.

We replay old conversations.

We rehearse future disasters.

We dwell on mistakes we’ve already made.

We imagine outcomes that may never happen.

And before long, the giant in our minds begins to feel more real than the God who created the universe.

I know because I’ve done it.

Maybe you have too.

The more attention we give to fear, the larger it appears.

The more we rehearse worst-case scenarios, the more inevitable they begin to feel.

The more we focus on the giant, the less we focus on God.

David facing a giant that is fading into the shadow of a much larger figure, symbolizing overcoming fear and anxiety through faith in God
The giant doesn’t seem quite so big anymore—not because it changed, but because you’re finally seeing it in the shadow of a much bigger God.

David’s Secret

As I reflected on this, my mind kept returning to another famous giant.

Goliath.

For forty days, the Israelites listened to Goliath’s threats.

Morning and evening.

Day after day.

The giant kept talking.

And the people kept listening.

Eventually, nobody could imagine defeating him.

But something occurred to me recently.

The giant hadn’t actually grown.
Their fear had.

When David arrived on the scene, he heard the same giant everyone else heard.

But he saw something different.

Everyone else compared Goliath to themselves.

David compared Goliath to God.

That’s the difference.

The size of the giant hadn’t changed.

The point of reference had.

What Prayer Actually Does

I think this is where many of us misunderstand prayer.

We often approach it as a way to get God to remove the giant.

And sometimes He does.

But often, something else happens first.

Prayer changes what we’re comparing the giant to.

Instead of comparing our fear to our strength…

we begin comparing our fear to God’s faithfulness.

Instead of comparing our problem to our resources…

we begin comparing our problem to God’s power.

Instead of focusing on what might happen…

we begin focusing on the One who holds what happens next.

Prayer doesn’t always immediately change our circumstances.

But it almost always changes our perspective.

And sometimes that’s where the real battle is won.

The Control We Never Really Had

As I reflected on Paul’s words, another thought occurred to me.

The only way to experience the peace he describes is to do the thing he tells us to do first.

Present our requests to God.

Our fears.

Our anxieties.

Our worries.

Our what-ifs.

Which means that, at some level, peace requires surrender.

Because anxiety is often fueled by our desire to control things that were never actually under our control to begin with.

We want to know how things will turn out.

We want guarantees.

We want certainty.

We want the outcome to match our preferred plan.

But God invites us into something different.

He invites us to remember who is actually in charge.

He is God.

We are not.

In many ways, this is the heart of Psalm 46:10:

Borrowed from YouVersion

God isn’t calling us to passivity.

He’s calling us to surrender.

To stop grasping for control that was never ours to begin with and remember who is actually sitting on the throne.

And while that may sound unsettling at first, it is actually incredibly freeing.

Because if God is truly in control, then I don’t have to be.

I still have responsibilities.

I still make decisions.

I still take action where I can.

But I no longer have to carry the impossible burden of controlling the outcome.

That’s God’s job.

Mine is trust.

The reality is that God’s answer will ultimately be God’s answer whether I spend the next week worrying about it or trusting Him with it.

One path leads to anxiety.

The other leads to peace.

Neither changes who is in control.

Only one changes my experience of the journey.

Maybe that’s part of what Paul was trying to teach us.

The path to peace is not gaining more control.
It’s surrendering the illusion of control to the One who has it already.

Slaying Giants One Prayer at a Time

Here’s what surprised me as I reflected on my friend’s question.

Slaying the giant within usually isn’t one dramatic victory.

Most of the time, it’s a thousand small ones.

A decision to pray instead of panic.

A decision to trust instead of catastrophize.

A decision to bring the fear back to God for the fifteenth time that day.

A decision to believe that God’s promises are more reliable than our emotions.

Sometimes slaying the giant looks less like David running toward Goliath…

and more like repeatedly handing the same fear back to God until it loses its grip on us.

The Promise Hidden in the Passage

There’s something else in Paul’s words that I overlooked for years.

Notice what God promises.

Paul does not say God will explain everything.

He does not say God will solve every problem immediately.

He does not even say God will remove every source of anxiety.

What he promises is peace.

And not ordinary peace.

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
—Philippians 4:7 (NIV)

In other words:

A peace that doesn’t make sense.

A peace that arrives before the circumstances change.

A peace that shows up while the giant is still standing there.

That’s why this peace is supernatural.

It’s not dependent on the giant disappearing.

It’s dependent on God’s presence.

A Final Encouragement

If you’ve been wrestling with a giant inside your own mind lately…

fear…

anxiety…

regret…

shame…

uncertainty…

you’re not alone.

And you’re not powerless.

The answer may be simpler than you wish.

But it is also more powerful than you realize.

Bring it to God.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Not because God didn’t hear you the first time.

But because every time you pray, you are choosing to focus on His greatness instead of the giant’s.

And over time, something remarkable begins to happen.

The giant doesn’t seem quite so big anymore.

Not because it changed.

But because you’re finally seeing it in the shadow of a much bigger God.

A Question to Sit With

What giant in my mind have I been staring at…

and what might happen if I started staring at God instead?

Posted in Faith and Spiritual Growth, Walking with God | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

More Power To Us | Pentecost, Prayer, and the Power of the Holy Spirit

Posted on May 24, 2026 by Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter

Introduction: From Fearful to Fearless

This Pentecost weekend, God has placed a simple but astonishing truth on my heart to ponder:

The Christian faith did not spread across the world because the disciples were unusually brave, talented, or powerful people.

Quite the opposite.

Just weeks before Pentecost, during Jesus’s sham of a trial, Peter denied even knowing Jesus because he was afraid for his own life.

Not just one, but three times.

This was the same Peter who had boldly declared to his best friend just the day before:

“Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will.”
—Matthew 26:33 (NIV)

And yet, standing near a fire in the courtyard after Jesus was arrested, fear took over.

“I don’t know the man!”
—Matthew 26:74 (NIV)

But then something happened.

Fifty days after the resurrection…

everything changed.

An Unlikely Group to Change the World

The book of Acts tells us that about 120 believers gathered together after Jesus ascended into heaven.

One hundred twenty.

Not an army.
Not political leaders.
Not celebrities.
Not military powerhouses.

Just ordinary people.

Fishermen.
Former tax collectors.
Women.
Families.
Followers still trying to understand everything that had happened.

If you were trying to build a movement capable of changing the world…

these would not have been your first-round draft picks.

And yet…

they did change the world.

How?

Not somehow.

By the power of the Holy Spirit.

The Promise Jesus Made

Before ascending into heaven, Jesus told them:

“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you…”
—Acts 1:8 (NIV)

Not better strategies.

Not stronger personalities.

Power.

And when Pentecost arrived, that promise became reality.

All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit…
—Acts 2:4 (NIV)

Suddenly, fearful people became bold.

Peter—the same Peter who denied Jesus in fear—stood before a massive crowd and publicly proclaimed the Gospel.

And thousands came to faith.

He had to know that doing so could have led him to the same fate as Jesus’s (and ultimately, it did), but the same man who once hid in fear now openly proclaimed Christ in the very city where Jesus had been crucified.

What changed?

He and others were now living in the power of the Holy Spirit.

Followers of Jesus gathered in an upper room during Pentecost as the Holy Spirit descends in power with tongues of fire
Pentecost was the birth of the Church—not because a building was established, but because ordinary people were filled with the presence and power of God.

What Pentecost Actually Was

Pentecost took place fifty days after the resurrection and ten days after Jesus ascended into heaven.

Originally, it was a Jewish festival celebrating harvest and thanksgiving.

In Acts 2, it describes how about 120 of Christ’s followers were gathered together, maybe in part to celebrate the festival. Christian tradition holds that the place where they were meeting was the same upper room where the Last Supper had taken place, and where Jesus had first appeared to many of them following His resurrection.

Although there’s no way to know this until I can ask Jesus in person, I have to admit that I love the idea: the room of fear and sad endings becoming the room of empowerment and new beginnings.

Anyway, while we don’t know what topics they were planning to discuss, I have to imagine that at least one item on the agenda was: Now what? What do we do now? Jesus told us to spread His message of good news to every corner of the world. That sounds nice and all, but specifically how are we supposed to pull that off?

And this is when Pentecost became something far greater.

It became the moment when the Holy Spirit descended upon the followers of Jesus in power. Another one of Jesus’s mysterious pronouncements instantly made sense.

Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting.
—Acts 2:2 (NIV)

Tongues of fire appeared over them.
They were filled with the Holy Spirit.
And fearful followers suddenly became fearless witnesses.

In many ways, Pentecost was the birth of the Church—
not because a building was established,
but because ordinary people were filled with the presence and power of God.

A Song That Meant More Than I Realized

I became a follower of Christ when I was a teenager. One of the things I did to try to understand more of what I had just gotten myself into was add Christian music to my broad portfolio of music I enjoyed. One of the first Christian songs that impacted me most in those early days was Petra’s More Power To Ya, released in 1982 (yes, I’m that old).

As a side note, for some reason, up to that point, the common phrase “more power to you” always seemed a bit obnoxious to me. So just based on the title, I didn’t really want to like the song, but I ended up loving it.

At first, I mostly just really liked the music.

But I didn’t know enough of the Bible or about the power of God for the lyrics to make any sense to me.

But over the years, the lyrics began to land differently.

One line especially stood out to me early on:

When they were all in one accord, the power of His Spirit Poured
And they began to turn* the world around.
– Song writer Bob Hartman

I put an asterisk in there because this is what I thought they were saying, and that line was immensely meaningful for me. However, upon confirming the lyrics, I found that what it really says is “tell”. That still makes sense, of course, but it doesn’t hit me quite the same way.

And another:

In all of our weakness, He becomes so strong
And He gives us the power and the strength to carry on.
– Song writer Bob Hartman

The song wasn’t really about human strength.

It was about our weakness and dependence.

About recognizing that the Christian life was never meant to be lived through our own ability.

The power was always His.

Still is.

The Same Power Living in Us

That thought honestly overwhelms me sometimes.

The same Spirit that empowered Peter…
The same Spirit that launched the early Church…
The same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead…

lives in us.

Wait, what?

It seems impossible to believe. But it’s true.

Paul wrote:

Borrowed from YouVersion

Think about that for a moment.

The resurrection power of God is not merely an idea we admire from a distance.

Through the Holy Spirit, it is present with us.

Within us.

Helping us.
Strengthening us.
Convicting us.
Comforting us.
Transforming us.

Giving us the ability to change the world. Just like Peter and those early followers.

So How Do We Access That Power?

The short answer is:

Prayer.

But not merely polite, cautious, sanitized prayers.

When you look through Scripture, some of the greatest displays of God’s power happened after people prayed bold, audacious prayers with complete confidence that God would move.

Jesus stood outside the tomb of Lazarus and prayed for a dead man to walk out alive.

And Lazarus did.

Peter looked at a man lame from birth and said:

“In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.”
—Acts 3:6 (NIV)

And the man got up.

These weren’t timid prayers.

They weren’t:

“Well God, maybe if possible…”

There was certainty.

Confidence.

Expectation.

Not because the people praying were depending on their own human power…

but because they were counting on God’s power.

Maybe Our Prayers Are Too Small

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with small, everyday prayers.

God wants conversational intimacy with us.

He cares deeply about our daily lives. He wants us to find that parking place when we really need it.

But I also think many of us—including me—sometimes pray far too safely.

We pray things we can almost accomplish ourselves.

We pray things small enough that if they happen, we may end up overlooking God’s power, because maybe they would have happened anyway.

But throughout Scripture, God repeatedly invites His people to pray impossible prayers.

The kind where if God does not show up…

nothing happens. Or worse, bad things happen.

Prayers so bold they almost feel embarrassing to say out loud.

Prayers that make us nervous someone might think we’re religious fanatics.

But maybe that’s exactly the point.

Because God specializes in the impossible.

Why We Forget This

And yet, if I’m honest, I often live as though I’m on my own.

I look at challenges and immediately calculate based on my own strength.

My own wisdom.
My own courage.
My own ability.

And usually, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Because on its own…

it isn’t.

But Pentecost reminds us that Christianity has never been a story of human sufficiency.

It has always been a story of divine power working through ordinary people in remarkable ways.

The Power We Actually Need

Sometimes when we hear the word power, we think of spectacle.

Control.
Influence.
Dominance.

But the power of the Holy Spirit often looks different.

It looks like:

  • courage when fear would normally win
  • peace during chaos
  • conviction without arrogance
  • love for difficult people
  • endurance through suffering
  • hope that refuses to die

An important thing to remember, though, is that God doesn’t give us His power to impress the world…

but to reflect the power of the Holy Spirit within it.

A Final Encouragement

If you feel weak sometimes…

overwhelmed…
afraid…
uncertain…
unqualified…

you’re actually in very good company.

So were the disciples.

Christianity did not begin because a group of extraordinary people changed the world through sheer force or determination.

It began because ordinary people were filled with the Spirit of an extraordinary God.

And that same Spirit is still living in us. Still at work today.

Still empowering.
Still transforming.
Still moving.
Still changing lives.

Including yours.

So pray boldly.

Ask largely.

Trust deeply.

Because the same power that raised Christ from the dead…

lives in you.

A Question to Sit With

What impossible thing might God be inviting me to begin praying boldly about?

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