Author: Derrick Hurst (Page 4 of 150)

I am husband to Carrie, dad to Matthew, Lucas, and Natalie. I have a desire to see people grow in their relationship with Jesus. My personal mission is to move people forward in their faith life.

From Rusty Bolts to Restored Peace

January 9, 2026 / / 0 Comments

Look, I get it. Life piles up. Deadlines, emails, family stuff, church meetings, all that mental noise buzzing in your head like a broken record. Sometimes it’s enough to make you want to throw your phone in the trash and run for the hills.

But here’s the thing: the best way I’ve found to shut all that off is not by scrolling more, or binge-watching another show, or even hitting the gym hard. Nope. I get my real rest and reset in the barn, wrench in hand, working on my newest project. My truck.

I’m talking about the slow, steady, knuckle-knocking kind of work that pulls you out of your head and into the moment. There’s something about sitting on a creeper, peeling off rusty bolts, and swapping them for shiny new parts that’s downright therapeutic. The smell of oil, the clank of tools, and yes, even the rough idle of that old 360 V8 engine sputtering to life. It’s like music for my soul.

No screens. No deadlines. No anxious thinking. Just focus on the work right in front of you.

You can’t worry about your inbox when you’re wrestling a stuck bolt or figuring out why that carburetor isn’t behaving. Your mind has to calm down to solve the problem. And in that calm, the exhaustion starts to lift. The mental clutter fades.

This isn’t just a hobby. It’s a reset button for the soul.

So, after you’ve crushed your week, try something different to rest. Maybe it’s in a barn like me, maybe it’s gardening, painting, or cooking a meal from scratch. Whatever it is, find that thing that forces you to slow down and get out of your own head.

Because burnout isn’t a badge of honor. It’s a warning sign. And real rest isn’t sitting still. It’s moving slow, focused, and toward something that brings peace.

Your mind and soul will thank you. And come Monday? You’ll be sharper, clearer, and ready to crush it again.

What’s your slow-down ritual? Drop a comment or hit reply. Let’s be real about what helps us survive and thrive.

Time For An Honesty Minute

January 8, 2026 / / 0 Comments

It’s Thursday.
Not the adrenaline of Monday.
Not the relief of Friday.

This is the middle where good intentions meet real life.

So here’s the check-in. No fixing. No spinning. Just honesty.

How are you actually doing this week?

  • 🟢 Locked in? You showed up. You kept your word. You’re not perfect, but you’re consistent.
  • 🟡 Hanging on? You’ve done some of what you said you’d do. Life pushed back. You didn’t quit, but you’re tired.
  • 🔴 Need a reset? You got knocked off rhythm. Old habits crept in. Motivation dipped. You’re frustrated or discouraged.

None of these make you a failure.
None of these disqualify you.
But one of them is true.

And naming what’s true matters.

Because growth doesn’t start with hype. It starts with awareness.

Here’s the challenge part (gentle, but real):

If you’re 🟢 what are you doing that’s actually working? Don’t rush past it. Reinforce it.
If you’re 🟡 what’s one small win you can finish strong before the week ends? Just one.
If you’re 🔴 what would a reset look like today, not “next week”?

Not a full overhaul.
Not a dramatic promise.
Just one honest next step.

Progress doesn’t come from being hard on yourself.
It comes from staying engaged when it would be easier to check out.

I don’t want you to be good or even better than before. My hope is that you can honestly see just how blessed you really are. And it all starts with self awareness.

Drift Is The Enemy

January 7, 2026 / / 1 Comment

Most people don’t fail their New Year goals because they quit.

They fail because they drift.

They start January with energy, motivation, and good intentions. They don’t abandon the plan outright. They just slowly stop paying attention. Days blur together. Priorities soften. What once felt urgent becomes optional. And before they know it, they’re moving… just not anywhere that actually matters.

Drift is far more dangerous than quitting.

When you quit, you know it. When you drift, you convince yourself you’re still “basically fine.”

Spiritually, relationally, physically no one drifts toward health, depth, or faithfulness. Drift always moves you somewhere unintended.

“Pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.” (Hebrews 2:1)

That verse exists for a reason.

Motion Is Not Direction

Busyness is not faithfulness. Activity is not obedience. Motion is not direction.

You can fill your calendar, crush tasks, and still slowly drift away from who God is calling you to be. You can stay “productive” while losing clarity, purpose, and conviction.

Drift happens when:

  • You stop deciding and start reacting
  • You stop praying and start assuming
  • You stop leading your life and start letting it happen

The reality is: If you don’t choose a direction, your life will choose one for you.

You Don’t Need 12 Goals. You Need a Compass

This is why I’m convinced most people don’t need more resolutions. They need more focus.

Not a to-do list.
Not a productivity hack.
A directional anchor.

Ask yourself this uncomfortable question:

If I keep living exactly the way I am right now, where will I end up?

Not where you hope to end up.
Where your current habits are actually taking you.

That answer doesn’t lie.

This is where a Word or Theme for the Year becomes powerful. It’s not just trendy, not cute, but clarifying. One word that acts like a compass. A filter. A line you refuse to cross.

Words like:

  • Faithful
  • Courage
  • Rooted
  • Undivided
  • Obedient

Not aspirational fluff directional clarity.

Drift Is Subtle. Direction Is Chosen Daily.

You don’t drift all at once. You drift a little at a time:

  • One skipped prayer
  • One unguarded yes
  • One “I’ll deal with that later”

That’s why direction has to be chosen daily, not annually.

Daily rhythms beat big intentions every time.

If you don’t decide:

  • when you’ll pray
  • how you’ll be in the Word
  • what you’ll say no to
  • who speaks into your life

Then friend, you are already drifting.

Hard Question Time

Let’s be honest:

  • Where have you been drifting spiritually?
  • What conviction have you softened?
  • What discipline have you rationalized away?
  • What decision are you avoiding because clarity would require courage?

Drift feels harmless until one day you look up and don’t recognize where you are.

Let me leave you with two coaching challenges.

1. Name the Drift.
You can’t correct what you won’t confront. Write it down. Say it out loud. Bring it into the light. Drift loses its power when it’s named.

2. Decide One Non-Negotiable.
Just one. A daily practice, boundary, or rhythm that anchors you to direction. Small. Clear. Unbreakable. This is how momentum becomes faithfulness.

You don’t need a perfect plan for the year.

You need clarity, conviction, and the courage to refuse drift.

Don’t just avoid quitting this year.

Choose direction and walk it on purpose.

Jesus Small Enough to Carry Can’t Carry You

January 6, 2026 / / 0 Comments

This week, we dove into John 1:1-5. We wrestled with the reality that: Jesus isn’t just some abstract idea or a distant deity. He’s the Logos – the Word – God’s ultimate communication to us, the very source of life and light breaking into the brutal, suffocating darkness of this world.

Now let’s unpack that Greek for a second. Logos. It’s not just “word” like we say it or write it. It’s the meaning, power, reason, the divine force behind everything real. This Logos didn’t just pop up in a manger. He’s existed from the beginning. Jesus is life itself. Real, unstoppable, relentless life.

But here’s the kicker: if Jesus is “small enough to carry,” He’s not carrying you. If your version of Jesus fits neatly into a box that you can hold, then that Jesus doesn’t have the power to carry your mess. Because the Jesus who is life and light isn’t a tiny, manageable faith accessory. He’s a cosmic force shattering darkness,. And if He can’t break into the dark places in your soul, then you’re holding onto the wrong Jesus.

John tells us the light shines in the darkness and darkness can’t overcome it. Darkness runs when real light steps into the room. Your fear, your shame, your failures they don’t get to stay just because you want them to. The Logos came to illuminate, to expose, to liberate.

But beware: light exposes darkness in us, not just out there somewhere. This means Jesus isn’t here to make you comfortable by hiding your flaws. No. That’s not how this works.

He’s here to confront them head-on. The small Jesus you carry around can’t do that. Only the Logos, the eternal Word, the unquenchable light is able to do this.

So here’s this week’s challenge: Stop carrying your Jesus like a teddy bear. Stop trying to tame the light. Jesus is the light that pushes back the darkness, but if you want Him to carry your load, He has to be big enough to do it.

Light doesn’t just flicker; it floods. Life doesn’t just exist; it conquers. And Jesus is both.

If you want a Jesus who can carry you, you’ve got to wrestle with the eternal, uncontainable, unshakable Word who holds all things together including you.

Monday Mood

January 5, 2026 / / 1 Comment

Mondays get a bad rap. Sometimes they’re the best day of the week. A fresh start, a clean slate, a chance to chase your goals with new energy. Other times? They feel like the worst day. They have a heavy drag after a break, especially when it’s the first Monday after a long holiday like Christmas.

Maybe you’re juggling kids back to school, the job kicking back into full gear, and routines that suddenly feel more rigid than you remember. The magic of holiday freedom fades, and the reality of early alarms, packed lunches, and deadlines returns.

It’s normal to feel a mix of emotions today: refreshed and ready to go, or tired and wishing for just one more day off. The key is how you handle this Monday mood. Because how you start your week often sets the tone for the whole thing.

If Monday feels like drudgery, try this mindset shift: Instead of seeing it as the “end” of something good, see it as the “start” of new opportunities. A day to reset, recommit, and choose what you want to focus on even if it’s just a tiny win.

Remember, routines aren’t meant to trap you; they’re there to support you. They create space for progress when life feels busy and overwhelming.

If you’re struggling to find that motivation or balance as life snaps back into place, find someone to walk alongside you. A coach or mentor, a friend or even family member can help you regain control and build a plan that fits your real life.

How are you feeling about this Monday? What’s one thing you’re choosing to lean into today?

#MondayMotivation #FreshStart #BackToRoutine #CoachingSupport #KeepMovingForward

Why Most People Quit on the New Year by January 15 and How Not to Be One of Them

January 2, 2026 / / 0 Comments

Most people don’t fail at change because they lack motivation.
They fail because they try to change everything at once.

New year energy is high. Expectations are even higher. And by mid-January, a lot of people are already quietly quitting yet again.

So this year let’s try something different.

If you want 2026 to actually feel different, don’t overhaul your life. Build a few simple habits you can keep. Not impressive ones. Sustainable ones.

Here are three simple tips that work because they’re small enough to stick and strong enough to matter.

1. Start Smaller Than You Think You Should

Most people aim for dramatic. Lose 50 pounds by the end of the year. Save $1000 more per month, even though the budget can’t sustain it. Run a marathon, even though you don’t run at all. People often think big change requires big effort.

But it doesn’t. It requires consistent effort.

Ten minutes of anything beats an hour you never show up for.
One page read beats a book you never open.
One prayer spoken beats a spiritual plan that lives in your notes app.

If a habit feels heavy before you even start, it’s simply too big.

Simple truth: Momentum is built by keeping promises to yourself, not by making ambitious ones.

Ask yourself: What’s the smallest version of this habit I could actually do most days?
Start there.

2. Attach New Habits to Old Rhythms

Willpower is unreliable. Structure is not.

The easiest way to build something new is to attach it to something you already do:

  • Coffee in the morning → one quiet moment of prayer or reflection
  • Commute → listen to an audio book, podcast, or even your daily Bible plan
  • Brushing your teeth → have one question you ask yourself daily

You don’t need more time.
You need to use the time you have more efficiently.

This works for faith, fitness, reading, leadership. It works for pretty much everything.

Simple truth: If it doesn’t have a place in your day, it won’t last.

3. Measure Faithfulness, Not Outcomes

Most people quit because they measure the wrong thing.

They ask:

  • “Am I seeing results yet?”
  • “Do I feel different?”
  • “Is this working?”
  • “Do I weigh less today than yesterday?”

A better question: Did I show up today?

Showing up is the win. Repeating it is the breakthrough.

Growth, whether that’s spiritual, physical, or emotional, often happens quietly. You don’t notice it until you look back and realize you’re not where you used to be.

Simple truth: Consistency compounds even when you can’t see it yet.

A Final Coaching Question

Before this year fills up with noise, schedules, and expectations, wrestle with this:

What is one habit that if you practiced it most days would make the biggest difference by the end of the year?

Not five habits.
Not a perfect plan.
Just one habit.

Start there. Stay with it. Adjust as needed. Repeat.

And if you want help thinking through habits, rhythms, or next steps, whether faith-related or life-related in any way, I do offer one-on-one coaching. You don’t have to figure everything out alone.

Just email me here if that would be helpful.

This year doesn’t change because it’s new.
It changes when you do something new and keep doing it.

Be well, friends.

It’s a New Year. Don’t Waste It.

January 1, 2026 / / 0 Comments

Ok so it’s January 1.
A new year. A clean page.

But the calendar doesn’t change your life. You do.

If nothing changes in you, this year will look exactly like the last one. You’ll see the same patterns, same excuses, same prayers you meant to pray but never even got to amen.

A new year only becomes a new start when someone gets up and chooses discomfort over drift.

Hope is not passive.
Faith is not a spectator sport.
And complaining about life without doing anything about it is not wisdom. It’s avoidance.

If you’re frustrated, good.
If you’re tired of the cycle, pay attention.
If you’re sick of being stuck, that might be the Spirit knocking.

But remember: nothing changes for people who only talk about change.

Posting about goals isn’t growth.
Thinking about faith isn’t discipleship.
Waiting to “feel ready” is just another way to stay exactly where you are.

This year won’t be different because you want it to be.
It won’t be better because you hope harder.
It will only change when you act.

Scripture says, “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!” (Isaiah 43:18–19). But God doing something new doesn’t excuse you from moving forward. New things still demand obedience.

God doesn’t drag people into transformation.
He meets people who take a step.

So stop waiting for motivation.
Stop negotiating with fear.
Stop telling yourself you’ll get serious “someday.” Newsflash friend – “someday” never comes!

Read the Bible even when it feels like a dry list of names.
Pray honestly instead of vaguely. Say exactly what’s on your heart. He can take it.
Show up to worship instead of watching from a distance. If you’re in town, you’re in worship could be a motto for 2026.
Commit to community instead of floating on the edges. Relationships take effort, so do the hard work.
Serve instead of consuming. There are enough takers in the world. Don’t be one of them. Find a way to give back.

This year doesn’t need more good intentions.
It needs decisions.

It needs people willing to try, fail, learn, and try again.

So before the year gets busy. Before the excuses pile up. Before the gym feels too far away. Before the savings plan feels like it’s sapping too much money from your paycheck. Sit with these questions:

  • What’s one habit, pattern, or excuse you already know has to change?
  • What step are you avoiding because it will actually cost you something?
  • If nothing changes in your life this year, whose fault will that be?

A new year is here.
God is ready.

The real question is are you?

Be well, friends.

The Long Night & The Light That Still Comes

December 23, 2025 / / 1 Comment

There’s a certain point every December where the dark feels just plain heavy.

You notice it when you pull into the driveway at 4:50 p.m. and your headlights hit the same patch of ground they hit at 8 p.m. It’s the long night. The season where the sun seems to give up early. The time of year where the cold settles in your bones and even the land feels like it’s bracing itself.

This is the month when the chickens go to bed way too soon, the fields disappear into a huge shadow of darkness, and the only light I see is whatever spills out from the porch lamp or flickers inside the fireplace.

The long night is real in more places than the just the farm.

December brings its own shadows. It comes in the griefs that resurface. The pressure that tightens. The loneliness that sneaks up. The exhaustion that no amount of caffeine can solve. The reminder of what didn’t go as planned this year.

Nobody advertises that part of Christmas.

But the long night shows up anyway. On the land. In the house. In the heart.

And that’s exactly where Advent speaks the strongest.

Because Advent never pretended the night wasn’t long. It just proclaimed, with stubborn hope: The Light still comes.

Not because we earned it.
Not because we’re ready.
Not because we finally got our spiritual crap together.

But because God refuses to let the darkness win.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” – John 1:5 (ESV)

Every December night on this thirteen acre piece of land the same truth is preached to me.

When I walk from the barn to the house and the only illumination is a thin beam from a flashlight. When the cold wraps around me like a heavy blanket. When the trees stand like dark silhouettes against the sky.

That’s when I remember. Light doesn’t need ideal conditions. It just needs to show up.

And Jesus showed up.

Not in a palace. Not in a spotlight. Not when everyone was fine. Not when the world was filled with peace and calm.

He stepped into the long night of a world that couldn’t save itself. He stepped into Roman oppression. Into spiritual confusion. Into political tension. Into ordinary people living ordinary struggles.

He came into our darkness – not to judge us for it, but to break it.

And He’s still doing it.

He does it in hospital rooms. In quiet living rooms lit by a single Christmas tree. In sanctuaries where candles flicker against stained glass. In cars where people cry on their way home. In barns and bedrooms and kitchens and churches and cold nights out on the land.

The Light still comes. And the darkness still loses.

So as Christmas arrives and this series closes, here’s your last Christmas invite:

Don’t fear the long night. Instead look for the Light. Even the smallest flame pushes back the dark. Even the faintest glow announces hope. Even the smallest spark of faith proclaims: He’s here.

On these acres, in this season, in this life of yours Advent ends with one promise. The Light has come, the Light is here, and the Light will keep coming.

And the darkness? It never gets the final word.

Splitting Wood & Spiritual Strength

December 19, 2025 / / 0 Comments

How resistance shapes us in Advent.

If you want to know who you really are, grab an axe and head to the woodpile.

There’s something brutally honest about splitting wood. It’s you, the log, the cold, and the undeniable truth that no amount of wishful thinking will split that piece of oak for you.

You swing.
You miss.
You curse under your breath.
You readjust.
You swing again.
Eventually something gives, either the log… or your back.

And standing there in the bite of December, with woodchips sticking to your jeans and steam rising off your breath, the Advent lesson hits hard:

Strength doesn’t appear out of nowhere. It’s built. Slowly. Repetitively. Through resistance.

We love the idea of spiritual strength. We want deeper faith, stronger trust, steadier souls, and an unshakeable hope.

But we quietly, secretly, and deeply wish we could gain all of that without the swing of the axe, without the struggle, without the repetition. Heck without the resistance!

The woodpile disagrees.

And if we’re honest, so does Scripture.

“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.” – Romans 5:3-4 (ESV)

Suffering → endurance → character → hope. It’s the spiritual version of swing → resistance → breakthrough → warmth.

Nobody gets firewood without effort. Nobody gets spiritual fire without endurance.

When I’m out on my acreage with a pile of unsplit logs staring me down, I realize how often I want Advent to be sentimental instead of strengthening. I want warm lights and hot drinks and sweet moments not the hard work of shaping a soul.

But Advent wasn’t meant to be sentimental. It was meant to build strength.

Strength to wait.
Strength to trust.
Strength to hope in the dark.
Strength to believe God is working even when the world feels cold and stubborn.

Jesus didn’t come because we were strong. He came because we couldn’t be.

And yet, He doesn’t leave us weak.

He shapes us.
He strengthens us.
He forms us like a woodcutter forms kindling. He does it through pressure, repetition, faithfulness, and time.

So here’s this week’s invitation:

When life feels heavy and the resistance feels real… don’t despise the woodpile. God might be building the exact strength you’ve been praying for.

Breakthrough doesn’t come without the swing. Warmth doesn’t come without effort. Spiritual strength doesn’t come without God using the hard places to shape us.

Advent continues not just warming our hearts for Christmas, but forging them for the world we’re called to love.

Nothing Is Falling Apart, So Why Does This Feel So Heavy?

December 18, 2025 / / 0 Comments

Nothing went wrong enough to explain.
But enough went wrong to feel it.

No single moment you could point to and say, “That’s it. That’s the thing.”
Just a quiet accumulation. A slow stacking of disappointments. Small frustrations. Closed doors that didn’t slam—they just… didn’t open.

Like your car battery dying when it’s five degrees outside.
Not a crisis. Just inconvenient enough to complicate everything.
Cold hands. Cold wind. One more thing that takes longer than it should.

Or finding out a network you love—one that mattered, one you poured into—decided to go a different direction. No explosion. No betrayal. Just less room. A quiet removal. The kind of loss that doesn’t come with a clean ending, just a shrug and a “this is where we are now.”

Add in the rest of life—schedules that don’t line up, things that won’t thaw, plans that keep shifting—and suddenly the weight shows up. Not all at once. But enough that you feel it when you finally sit down at night.

And that can be heavier than a crisis.

Because when something clearly breaks, people understand. There’s language for it. There’s space to grieve it. But when life just quietly goes off-script—when momentum stalls and expectations dissolve—you’re left carrying something that feels too small to explain and too heavy to ignore.

You start telling yourself you should be fine.
That other people have it worse.
That this isn’t worth naming.

But the weight is real.

And this is where Advent refuses to be sentimental.

The world Jesus entered wasn’t falling apart in dramatic ways. It was just worn down. Politically tense. Spiritually tired. Full of people doing their best, waiting for something to change, and quietly losing confidence that it would.

That’s the world God chose to step into.

Not in a moment of triumph.
Not when everything was aligned.
Not when people had margin and clarity and emotional bandwidth.

Luke tells us, “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:11, ESV)

Unto you.

Not just the desperate.
Not just the broken.
But the quietly disappointed. The worn down. The ones dealing with dead batteries, closed doors, and the kind of loss that doesn’t come with a headline.

Christmas doesn’t show up to fix everything instantly. It shows up to be present before it does.

John writes, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5, ESV)

Notice what he doesn’t say.
He doesn’t say the darkness disappears.
He says it doesn’t win.

That matters when the darkness feels ordinary. When it looks like frustration instead of fear. When it sounds like, “I didn’t expect this to be this hard.”

If you’re carrying weight this season and can’t quite explain why, you’re not failing at Christmas. You’re actually standing right where the story begins.

Christmas doesn’t ask you to pretend everything is fine.
It doesn’t demand manufactured joy.

It offers presence.
It offers nearness.
It offers light that shows up quietly and stays.

So if nothing went wrong enough to talk about—but everything feels heavy—know this: you are exactly the kind of person Christmas came for.

The light is already here

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2026 derrickhurst.org

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑