Tag: church (Page 2 of 34)

Grace Upon Grace

January 19, 2026 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

Why Jesus Forgives You Again… and Again… and Again

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us…” (John 1:14, ESV)

That sentence doesn’t whisper.
It crashes into with us tremendous force.

The Word didn’t stay distant.
The Word didn’t send instructions.
The Word became flesh and moved into the neighborhood.

Jesus isn’t just the one who talks about grace.
He is grace with skin on.
The gospel with a heartbeat.
The Word in the womb.

When John says, “we have seen his glory,” he’s not talking about explosions or divine light shows. Every time people see raw holiness in Scripture, they fall apart. Moses saw the hem of God’s garment and his face glowed. Isaiah saw the Lord and unraveled. No one walks away unchanged.

But John saw something different.

He saw glory wrapped in mercy.
Holiness that didn’t destroy sinners.
Truth that didn’t crush them.

“No one has ever seen God,” John says, “but the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known” (John 1:18).

If you want to know what God is like just look at Jesus.

That’s why Philip’s request in John 14 is so revealing: “Jesus, show us the Father.”

Jesus’ response is almost painful in its honesty:
“Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me? If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen the Father.”

God is not harsher than Jesus.
God is not less patient than Jesus.
God is not secretly waiting to run out of grace.

Jesus is the Father made visible.

Grace Isn’t Achieved. It’s Received.

Here’s the pivot point.
The spine of the message.
The line everything hangs on:

“For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” (John 1:16)

Not earned.
Not unlocked.
Not deserved.

Received.

John’s claim is devastating to religious pride:

Everything we receive from God flows out of Christ’s fullness
not our faithfulness,
not our effort,
not our spiritual résumé.

No elite access.
No spiritual SEAL Team.
No one gets bonus grace because they tried harder.

From his fullness we have all received.

That’s the posture of the Christian life:
Hands open.
Empty.
Dependent.

Grace Upon Grace Means Jesus Forgives Again

“Grace upon grace” doesn’t mean:
Grace once.
Grace at conversion.
Grace until you should know better.

It means forgiveness layered on forgiveness.

Jesus doesn’t forgive you once and then wait for you to mess it up permanently.
He forgives…
and forgives…
and forgives again.

Not because sin doesn’t matter.
But because his fullness never runs out.

Romans 5 says where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.
Not matched.
Not barely kept up.
Overflowed.

And Romans 8 explains why:

What the law couldn’t do because it was weakened by the flesh God did by sending his Son in the flesh. God took our weakness and used it to overcome our greatest adversary.

The law exposes sin.
Jesus condemns sin in his flesh.

Which means forgiveness doesn’t depend on your consistency.
It depends on his cross.

This Isn’t Anti-Law. It’s Anti-Confidence in the Law.

“The law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.” (John 1:17)

That’s not an insult to Moses.
It’s a correction to us.

The law was never meant to supply life.
It was meant to reveal need.

Religious effort loves to pretend:
Obedience = leverage
Proximity = entitlement
Performance = progress

But John dismantles that illusion.

Grace doesn’t flow from Moses to Jesus.
Grace flows from Jesus alone.

Everyone comes empty-handed.
Everyone lives by reception.

You Don’t Graduate From Grace

Isaiah says our righteous deeds are filthy rags not because they’re evil, but because they’re incapable of producing life.

Good works don’t generate grace.
They don’t trigger forgiveness.
They don’t refill the tank.

Only Christ’s fullness does.

John Kleinig says it plainly:
The Christian life is sustained by repeated reception of God’s gifts.

You don’t move past grace.
You return to it.

Again.
And again.
And again.

Jesus Didn’t Come to Make Life Easy He Came to Make Life New

Grace doesn’t mean life gets simpler.
It means you’re no longer alone in it.

Jesus didn’t come to eliminate trouble.
He came to enter it, carry it, die under it, and rise through it.

Grace often feels repetitive because forgiveness is repetitive.
Repentance is repetitive.
Receiving is repetitive.

And that’s not failure.
That’s faith.

Faith Makes Us Family

January 12, 2026 / Derrick Hurst / 1 Comment

Most people assume belonging has to be earned.

Work hard enough.
Clean yourself up enough.
Prove you’re serious enough.

That assumption shows up everywhere from jobs and friendships, to families and even our faith lives. But John 1:6-13 blows that whole idea up.

The central message is simple and even a little unsettling: Faith makes us family. Not effort. Not achievement. Not spiritual hustle. Faith.

Before we go any further, there’s a small but important detail that helps this section make sense. There are two Johns here.

John the Baptist is the one being talked about. While John the Apostle is the one writing.

John the Baptist’s role is clear:

“There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness… so that everyone might believe through him.” (John 1:6–7, ESV)

In other words, he’s not the main point. He’s pointing beyond himself.

That matters, because we’re tempted to make faith about what we do, how consistent we are, how strong we feel, how well we perform. But from the start, this story keeps redirecting attention away from us and toward Jesus.

John describes Jesus as light entering darkness.

And when the light shows up, people respond in different ways.

Some people don’t recognize the light.

“The true light… was coming into the world. He was in the world… yet the world did not know him.” (John 1:9–10)

This isn’t about intelligence. It’s about expectations.

People were waiting for something powerful, flashy, and forceful. What they got was humility, grace, and truth. The light didn’t look like they thought it would, so they missed it.

Others recognize the light but don’t want it.

“He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him.” (John 1:11)

These people see what Jesus is about, and that’s the problem.

Light exposes things.
It challenges us.
It tells the truth about who we are.

Some people don’t reject Jesus because they don’t understand him but because they don’t like what he says about their lives.

And then there are those who feel too far gone.

They hear the message.
They feel the weight of their past.
They assume they’ve crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed.

This might be good for other people but not me.

That’s why what comes next is so important:

“But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” (John 1:12)

Not helpers.
Not outsiders.
Not people on thin ice.

Family.

And John is careful to make sure we don’t misunderstand how that happens:

“Not because of their background, not because of human effort, not because someone else decided it—but because of God.” (John 1:13, paraphrased)

This isn’t about where you come from.
It’s not about willpower.
It’s not about trying harder.

It’s about trust.

And if you think your past disqualifies you, look at the people God actually uses.

David abused his power, took advantage of a woman, and arranged for her husband to be killed. Moses lost his temper repeatedly and struggled to trust God when things went wrong. Abraham lied about his wife to save himself.

These are not role models for good behavior.

They’re reminders that God doesn’t wait for people to be polished before welcoming them.

And notice what the text does not say.

It doesn’t say “believe strongly enough.”
It doesn’t say “believe fully enough.”
It doesn’t say “believe after you fix yourself.”

It just says believe.

No adjectives or adverbs.
No levels.
No fine print.

Belief isn’t something you earn.
It’s not a reward for effort.

It’s the open door.

And on the other side of that door isn’t shame or judgment. It’s grace.

Because faith makes us family.

Drift Is The Enemy

January 7, 2026 / Derrick Hurst / 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 / Derrick Hurst / 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.

Saying Yes Changes Everything

December 1, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

Yesterday we kicked off Advent with a deep dive into Luke 1:26-38. You know the story. Mary, a teenage girl from a nowhere town called Nazareth, gets the shock of her life when an angel tells her she’s been chosen to carry the Savior of the world. Yeah, that Mary.

Here’s the kicker: Mary had zero qualifications. No royal bloodline. No political connections. No resume that screamed, “I’m ready to be a world-changer.” Just a quiet life, a lot of questions, and a giant, terrifying call.

But God didn’t pick someone likely. He picked someone available.

Why Mary’s story is a punch in the face to our excuses

How often do we sit on the sidelines because we think we’re not enough? Not skilled enough, not bold enough, not experienced enough? Mary is the ultimate “Hold my beer” moment in the Bible. She’s God’s way of saying, “Stop waiting for permission. Stop waiting for perfect. Just show up.”

When the angel shows up, Mary doesn’t get a detailed step-by-step plan. She doesn’t get all the answers or guarantees. She just says, “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.”

Now that’s faith.

Here’s your Monday challenge

Look at your week ahead. What’s the call you’ve been pretending not to hear? What’s the opportunity that feels too big or too scary? Whatever it is, remember God’s calling doesn’t come to the “most qualified.” It comes to the available. The willing. The ready to say “yes” even when the path is uncertain.

So what’s stopping you? Fear? Doubt? That little voice telling you you’re not enough? It’s a lie. All of it! Mary was essentially just a kid. If God can work through her, He can absolutely work through you.

This week, don’t just hope for change. Step into it. Say yes to the impossible. Step out of your comfort zone. Be the unexpected hero God is calling you to be. The world doesn’t need perfect. It needs you showing up and doing what only you can do.

Get uncomfortable. Get brave. Get moving. Your ‘yes’ could be the spark that changes everything.

Ready to stop waiting and start living your calling? Share your “yes” this week in the comments. Let’s fuel each other’s courage to be the unlikely heroes God is raising up right now.

Why Losing Focus Is Killing Your Mission

November 25, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

When a person, a church, or any organization loses focus, it’s not just a minor slip-up, it’s a wrecking ball that smashes everything around them. If your goal is to help people grow and thrive in life and leadership, but all you do is shape them to fit your personal preferences, congratulations you’re not cultivating leaders, you’re making clones. Boring, lifeless copies with zero originality.

The church exists to make disciples real, passionate, life-changing disciples – not to obsess over boards, budgets, or butts in seats. When your priorities are stuck on numbers and committees instead of people’s souls, you’re not doing the work of God. You’re acting like the very religious folks Jesus called out in the New Testament who were more focused on appearances and power than on love and truth.

If you say you care about people but live like dollars rule your world, you’re sending a message louder than any sermon ever could. You don’t actually care.

So here’s the hard truth: Losing focus isn’t a small mistake. It’s spiritual malpractice. It’s a betrayal of the mission. And it’s why so many people check out not because they don’t need the church, but because the church stopped needing them.

Refocus or fold. Because discipleship is messy. It’s uncomfortable. It demands sacrifice. But anything less? It’s just cloning, and cloning is dead.

The Power of Truth Against Deception

November 3, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 1 Comment

You’ve probably noticed it, people walking away. Walking away from faith. Walking away from commitments. Walking away from truth. It’s everywhere. Some quietly drift off, others announce it like a badge of honor. But 2 Thessalonians 2 reminds us that this isn’t new. Paul saw it coming. He called it “the rebellion” (literally apostasia) the great falling away from truth.

We picture rebellion as loud, messy, and obvious. But spiritual rebellion often happens in whispers. It’s subtle. It’s the slow fade when conviction becomes opinion, and truth becomes “my truth.” That’s the drift Paul warns about. It’s the kind that leads hearts away from Jesus and opens the door for deception to take root.

But here’s the powerful part: something or rather Someone is still holding the line. Paul says the “man of lawlessness” is being restrained. The enemy doesn’t get free rein. Truth still stands. God still reigns. The Word still works.

That’s not just theology, that’s real life. Because every time you hold fast to truth when it would be easier to compromise, you’re joining the resistance. When you open Scripture instead of scrolling for opinions, you’re reinforcing the barricade. When you choose to speak grace and truth, you’re standing with the One who restrains the chaos.

Here’s where it connects with coaching and leadership. Unfortunately we have to say it out loud but truth has to have a seat at the table. I see it every day in conversations: people are hungry for clarity, not noise. They don’t need another self-help mantra; they need something unshakable. That’s why real growth spiritual, personal, professional always begins with alignment to truth.

As a coach, I’m not here to hand out answers; I’m here to help people discover what’s already true. Because truth, when uncovered, still holds power. And when we live aligned with it, the enemy loses ground.

So, let’s make this practical:

Check your source. What’s shaping your worldview more the Word or the world?
Stand your ground. You don’t need to be loud to be firm. Quiet conviction changes rooms.
Stay connected. Apostasy starts with isolation. Stay in community. Truth sharpens best in relationship.

The rebellion is real but so is the restraint. And as long as God’s Word holds the line, we’re not powerless. We’re participants in His plan.

Truth wins. Always has. Always will.

3 Questions to Guide Your Week

Where are you seeing “apostasy” or drifting from truth in your circles your workplace, family, or community?
How are you responding with both grace and truth?

What truth are you holding onto that could strengthen someone else right now?
How can you lead others to discover and live in that truth?

In what ways are you staying connected and accountable?
Who is helping you stand firm so you can help others stand firm too?

The Most Confusing Hour of the Year

October 30, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 1 Comment

Only in the United States could we take an hour from the end of our day, move it to the beginning, and convince ourselves we’ve got more day. It’s the type of math that would make your third-grade teacher roll her eyes in disbelief!

But here we are again, time to “fall back” this Saturday night.

Every year, we all face the same dilemma: When do we fall back?

Maybe you’re like my mom. Growing up, she’d set the clocks back first thing in the morning. This meant the entire day felt like some twilight zone time warp. Breakfast was too early? Night activities felt late. And nobody knew what time lunch was supposed to happen!

Or maybe you’re a “last-minute before bed” person. You make the big adjustment right before you hit the pillow. The plan is that you can wake up and pretend your body magically agrees that 6 a.m. is suddenly 5 a.m.

And then there’s the real debate. What do you do with that extra hour?

Do you actually sleep in, basking in that glorious “bonus hour of siesta”?
Or are you one of those people who thinks, “Oh goody, an extra hour to stay up and binge one more episode”?

Look it really doesn’t matter you handle it. Here’s your friendly reminder: Set your clocks back one hour before you go to bed on Saturday night.

And while you’re at it, take a deep breath. Whether it’s light or dark, early or late, God’s the same yesterday, today, and forever. (Hebrews 13:8)

So enjoy your “extra” hour… even if it’s just an illusion. And heck if your body gets you up a little early…maybe I’ll see you Sunday morning in church!

The Problem With Perfect Leaders

October 29, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

Let’s be honest, pastors can be some of the best actors around. Far too often we preach about authentic faith but live like we’re auditioning for Most Holy Person of the Year.

We smile even when we’re exhausted. We shake hands when we’d rather hide. We quote Scripture while quietly wondering if it still works the same for us as it does for everyone else.

The truth? Ministry can end up polishing the soul until it looks shiny from a distance but leaves the inside feeling…hollow.

And that’s not just a pastor thing. It’s a people thing. Leaders, parents, teachers, entrepreneurs, all of us! We’re all trying to hold it together in public while life leaks in private.

I’ve done it too. For years, I lived as though leadership meant never letting them see you bleed. But Jesus never modeled that kind of leadership. So why should I?

He wept. He sweat blood. He was betrayed, exhausted, misunderstood, and still chose to love.

That’s leadership. It’s not the filtered, staged version of leadership either. It’s the kind that bleeds grace.

So here’s where I’m landing these days: Leaders aren’t called to be impressive. We’re called to be honest.

When you stop pretending to have it all together, people stop pretending too.
And the cool part is, that’s when discipleship actually happens. It’s not when we hand out carefully crafted bullet points on leadership, but when we invite people to watch us wrestle with obedience, failure, and hope.

I’ve led well and led poorly. I’ve prayed hard and still felt dry. I’ve seen God move powerfully and then wondered why He felt silent the next day.

But through it all, I’ve learned that faith doesn’t thrive in perfection. It grows in the cracks. The broken places in our lives that look barren and yet are the perfect places for light to poke through.

I think of stained glass and how the broken shards of glass are the ones that cast the most amazing light refractions. The same is true for us. When we let the cracked parts of our lives become exposed to the grace of God, then the light of his presence refracts into the lives of those where we live, work, and play.

So if you’re leading anything. Yeah anything! From a church to a business even a family listen up: You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be present.

Show up. Tell the truth. Repent quickly when you mess up. Laugh often. Admit when you’re wrong. That’s leadership that looks like Jesus. And that’s the kind of faith the world actually needs.

Coming up later this week: “Blowing Leaves and Remembering Grace” a post from the dirtier, simpler side of life where God keeps reminding me He’s not afraid of a mess.

A Few Changes Are Coming

October 22, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 2 Comments

There’s a shift coming to the blog next month. Don’t worry! I’m not selling essential oils or becoming one of those skinny jeans wearing worship pastors. No offense to my essential oil (aka voodoo oil friends) or you skinny jean wearing peeps! Those have their place but it isn’t likely on this blog. I’m just tired of pretending that “pastor” is the only hat I wear.

Somewhere between the pulpit and my zero turn mower, God’s been reminding me that faith isn’t meant to live only in the sanctuary. It’s also in the sweat, the soil, and the sips around a backyard firepit.

For years, derrickhurst.org has been mostly ministry-focused. Like sermons, church leadership, discipleship, the usual “pastor stuff.” And I love that. I’ll keep writing about faith and leadership because that’s who I am. But it’s not all that I am.

I’m also a guy who loves lifting weights and the way it preaches discipline louder than most devotionals.

I’m a guy who likes a good bourbon not for escape, but because slowing down long enough to actually taste something is a spiritual act these days.

I’m a guy who finds God in dirt under the fingernails, broken tools, and the slow redemption of a half-dead garden.

And maybe that’s the point, God is just as present in the mundane as He is in the miraculous. So, you’re going to start seeing a bit more of those mundane moments here. Posts about working out, working the land, coaching pastors, and wrestling with what discipleship actually looks like when the Bible closes and Monday shows up.

If that sounds too “earthy” for you, there are more blogs out there. But I’d love to have you hang around anyway. You might find that Jesus was far more earthy than we like to admit.

If that sounds like your kind of thing, then good. Grab your coffee (or whatever’s in that cup, depending on the hour), and let’s dig into what a full life of faith really looks like.

Because following Jesus was never meant to fit neatly in a church bulletin. It’s meant to invade everything from the gym to the garden to the glass in your hand.

So we’ll see you in a week or so with a little different focus and a better rhythm. Until then meet someone new. Share your name and one thing unique about yourself. Then see where the conversation goes. You might be surprised how who you are actually is interesting to someone new.