Tag: discipleship (Page 2 of 28)

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 Coaching in Personal Growth

November 20, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

Diagram illustrating the difference between mentoring, counseling, and coaching for personal and spiritual growth.

Understanding where coaching fits in life and ministry — and why it uniquely unlocks potential.

When people hear the word coaching, they often confuse it with mentoring or counseling. And that’s understandable because all three involve guidance, support, and personal growth. But they’re not the same, and understanding the difference matters if you want to use each effectively in life or leadership development.

Mentoring is usually about experience. A mentor shares wisdom, often from their own journey, to help you navigate similar paths. Think of it as “Here’s what worked for me, and here’s what I’ve learned.”

Counseling is about healing. A counselor helps you work through emotional, psychological, or relational challenges. They function as guides to help you process trauma, resolve conflict, or regain mental and emotional balance.

Coaching is different. Coaching is about unlocking potential. It’s not about giving answers or telling you what to do. It’s about asking the right questions, helping you see blind spots, and empowering you to take action that aligns with your goals, values, and calling. Ultimately coaching is about what’s already in your life.

I’ve experienced this difference firsthand. Mentors have modeled wisdom for me. Counselors have helped me process life’s difficult moments. But coaching has been the space where I step back, reflect, and discover my own next steps even when they weren’t obvious.

I’ve also seen it work in ministry: helping pastors, leaders, and followers of Jesus clarify priorities, see opportunities for growth, and take responsibility for change without being “told what to do.”

Coaching works because it’s relational and intentional. It honors your agency while guiding you toward clarity and progress. It’s about asking, “What do you see? What matters most? What’s your next step?” rather than “Here’s the answer.”

That subtle shift makes all the difference because real growth happens when people own it themselves.

Understanding these distinctions also matters for ministry. Leaders who can mentor, counsel, and coach in their respective contexts provide holistic support without blurring roles. Coaching becomes a tool to help others step into their God-given potential without dependency, a discipline that fosters both accountability and transformation.

At the heart of it, coaching is an invitation: to pause, reflect, and act intentionally. It’s about creating space for insight, growth, and action not giving all the answers, but helping people discover the ones that are already inside them.

Call-to-Action (CTA)

Reflect this week: Where in your life could mentoring, counseling, or coaching help you grow? Which approach fits your current need most?

Finding Gratitude in Life’s Messy Moments

November 14, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 0 Comments

If I’m being honest not every day feels like something to be thankful for. Some days feel like a sitcom with no laugh track. You spill coffee on your shirt before the meeting. Your kiddo’s missing shoe somehow ends up in the front yard. And the leaf blower that worked fine yesterday decides today’s the day to bite the big one.

Yeah, one of those kind of days.

But here’s the thing: Gratitude isn’t just for the good days. It’s for the messy ones too. Because that’s where God does some of His best work.

Just look at the Christmas story. It wasn’t neat and polished. Jesus entered the world in a feeding trough surrounded by animals. Yeah mooove over for the messiah…

The resurrection? It came through betrayal, blood, and an empty tomb. God’s never been scared of a little mess. So he’s surely not scared of yours either!

The problem isn’t the chaos around us. It’s that we expect faith to clean it all up. Look real gratitude starts when we learn to thank God in the mess, not after it’s over. Somehow we’ve come the conclusion that following Jesus means that life will be easier or lighter in some way. But I just don’t see that.

My life isn’t smooth sailing. Not by a stretch! I still deal with family drama. I have conflict with people who I call friends. I have to deal with interpersonal communication issues on ministry teams in the church for crying out loud! Following Jesus doesn’t exclude you from the problems of life! It just changes how you see the struggles.

When the dishes pile up and life feels more exhausting than inspiring, maybe that’s the exact space where God’s trying to talk to you. Maybe that’s where He’s saying, “I’m here. I’m working. Even in this.”

My grandma gave me a paper when I was in high school that said “Something For God to Do Today.” It had a poem of sorts on it that I can’t remember completely but the gist is simple. There are things that are in your control. And there are things out of your control. When we approach life following Jesus, we’ll be able to confidently place things in the something for Jesus to do today box knowing that He has it under control.

So, maybe this weekend you don’t need to fix the mess. Maybe you just need to pause long enough to see God standing right in the middle of it with you.

Because the mess doesn’t mean He’s missing. It means He’s moving with you through it.

So for that… yeah, I’m thankful.

Rest as Resistance

November 7, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 1 Comment

Confession: I’m competitive. I know! Shocker!

I’m competitive with myself, with the weights, with life, with pretty much everything around me. So sometimes I skip rest days. Because who wants to take a break when there’s more to lift, more to do, more to “fix”?

But here’s the thing I’m learning in my years of experience (aka being old as my daughter would put it): skipping rest is not strength. It’s weakness dressed up in busyness.

Muscles grow when you recover, not when you grind nonstop. And muscles are a lot like other parts of our lives, including faith! Spiritual growth, emotional health, even leadership stamina all thrive in the spaces where we pause.

Rest isn’t optional. It’s resistance. It’s saying no to the things that aren’t going to move the needle.

It’s saying no to the lie that productivity equals value.

It’s telling the world (and yourself) that you trust God to keep working when you stop.

It’s bending the knee to a rhythm bigger than your to-do list.

Some of the best work I’ve ever done in the gym, in ministry, in life all started with a deliberate pause. A day off. A walk in the field. A quiet coffee without guilt. A slow evening with a one finger pour. The pause brings purpose to the process.

So take a breath. Step back. Turn off the blower, put the weights down, and let God do what only He can do. You’ll come back stronger. You’ll last longer. And you’ll probably be a lot less likely to look like a man riding a chicken.

Because rest is not laziness. Rest is resistance against burnout. And in a world that won’t stop demanding, that’s a radical act of faith.

Lessons on Grace: Mowing Through Life’s Messes

October 31, 2025 / Derrick Hurst / 1 Comment

Ok so I don’t rake leaves. I have far too many. Raking would be like trying to bail the Titanic with a coffee mug. So I use a blower. Well, that’s not even totally true because most of the time I’m just too lazy to blow that many leaves. I typically just mow them over and hope for the best. I’d need a blower the likes of a jet engine to handle the leaves properly and I’m too cheap to buy anything like that. Even though it would be fun to have!

Every fall, I spend hours in the lawn, mowing over piles of leaves and sending the clippings into a nice pile. Just to watch the next gust of wind scatter them back all over the yard.

And somewhere between the noise, the frustration, and the endless repetition, I realize: this is a picture of grace.

You see grace is a lot like blowing leaves. No matter how hard you try to get things perfectly clean, the mess keeps coming back. Then the second you think you’ve got it all under control. A mini vortex comes and messes it all up! So another pile, another reminder that this isn’t a one-time job.

I think that’s why Paul said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV) Grace isn’t about a clean yard. It’s about the constant presence of God’s strength in our endless weakness. The harder we try the more the wind of temptation or boredom tends to come in and blow us away.

And if I’m being honest, there are days I want to just quit! Not life but I want to stop fighting the leaves, stop cleaning up messes, stop trying to make life look tidy.
Then I remember. I can’t throw in the towel because grace doesn’t quit on me.

That’s what I remember every fall: Grace keeps showing up, leaf after leaf, sin after sin, failure after failure. It’s not neat. It’s not quiet. It’s not easy. But it’s real.

So now, when I hop on the mower and start another round, I don’t just see work. I see something like worship. Not the “hands raised, perfect harmony” kind. The kind that happens when you’re sweating through your hoodie. Covered in dust and leafy bits. Realizing that even in the noise and futility, God is there.

Because sometimes, the loudest reminder of grace comes with the roar of a zero turn and a cloud of leaf dust flying through the air.

Coming up next week: “The Discipline of Deadlifts and Devotion” where we’ll talk about why the gym might be one of the most honest places to learn about spiritual growth.