Gratitude comes easy when life feels calm. When the people around us make us laugh, listen when we speak, or quietly show up when we need them – it’s not hard to be thankful.
But gratitude gets complicated when people hurt us. When they misunderstand us. When they drain us.
There are people in all our lives who test our patience. Who push our buttons. And who make relationships feel more like work than blessing. And yet, if I’m honest, those people have been some of my greatest teachers.
Because the truth is, God uses difficult people to expose the rough edges in me. They shine a light on things like pride, impatience, parts of my heart that still need His grace. They show me how much I still need forgiveness. They remind me that love isn’t just a feeling. Love is a choice.
Paul wrote, “Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18, ESV) That “all circumstances” includes the messy relationships. The uncomfortable conversations. The disappointments that sting deeper than we’d like to admit.
Being thankful for difficult people doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine. It means learning to see God’s hand at work even in the friction. It’s believing He’s forming something in me through it all.
Sometimes the people who frustrate us most are the very ones God uses to grow compassion, humility, and endurance. They remind us that grace isn’t just a word we preach. It’s a daily practice we live.
So today, I’m trying to thank God not just for the people who make life easy, but also for the ones who make me pray a little more, think a little deeper, and love a little harder.
Because they’re part of how He makes me more like Jesus.
If we’re honest, it’s easy to be thankful for the people who make life fun. The friend who shows up with coffee. The spouse who still laughs at your dad jokes. The coworker who actually does their job.
But what about the ones who make your eye twitch? Who get on that last nerve?
You know the person. They’re the one who always has to be right. It’s the relative who still thinks it’s funny to bring up politics at Thanksgiving. The neighbor who somehow blows their leaves directly into your yard.
Yeah… those people.
Here’s the thing: gratitude isn’t just about warm fuzzies. It’s about seeing God’s grace in the people who test your patience the most. Because every person in your life, even the difficult ones, are part of how God shapes you.
When Paul wrote “give thanks in all circumstances” (1 Thessalonians 5:18), he didn’t add a footnote that said, “except for the annoying ones.”
Being thankful in relationships doesn’t mean pretending everything’s perfect. It means choosing to see people the way God does. It’s seeing them as works in progress, just like you.
So maybe the person who drives you nuts isn’t your problem. Maybe they’re your reminder.
Your reminder to practice patience. Your reminder that grace isn’t just for church. It’s for Tuesday morning emails, family dinners, and awkward conversations. Your reminder that gratitude grows best in the dirt of real, messy relationships.
So this week, try thanking God not just for the easy people, but for the ones who stretch your grace muscles too.
Because sometimes the people who drive you crazy are the very people God’s using to make you more like Him.
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.
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.
How pausing, reflecting, and thoughtful coaching can help you see what really matters.
Life has a way of clouding our vision. The busyness, the noise, and the constant pull of other people’s expectations can blur what once felt clear.
I know this personally. A few months ago, I found myself constantly reacting – putting out fires at church, over-committing at home, and feeling frustrated that I couldn’t see the next right step.
That’s when a coaching conversation helped me pause. Just 30 minutes of focused reflection helped me name what was really driving me, and for the first time in months, I felt a little relief.
Clarity doesn’t arrive as a sudden revelation. It comes layer by layer, in quiet moments of reflection. Coaching isn’t about giving you the answers. It’s about asking the right questions to help you see what’s already there.
Here’s a simple framework I’ve found useful for finding clarity:
Pause and notice: Take 10–15 minutes to step away from your daily tasks. Even a short walk or journal session works.
Ask yourself honest questions: What matters most right now? What’s getting in my way? What can I let go of?
Prioritize one next step: Don’t try to solve everything at once. Pick one intentional action that aligns with what’s most important.
Reflect and adjust: At the end of the day or week, check in. Did your step bring clarity or progress? What needs tweaking?
Seek an outside perspective: A coach, mentor, or trusted friend can help you see blind spots and encourage you when you feel stuck.
I’ve seen these steps work in my life and in the lives of people I’ve coached. Sometimes clarity comes in a quiet “aha” moment. Sometimes it’s a gradual series of small realizations. Either way, the key is intentionality.
Take a moment today to reflect: Where do you feel foggy? What’s one step you can take this week to bring a little more clarity?
Clarity isn’t about doing more — it’s about seeing more clearly. And once you see clearly, even a small step in the right direction changes everything.
Call-to-Action (CTA)
Take 10 minutes this week to pause and reflect on what matters most. What one step can you take today to bring clarity into your life? Share your thoughts in the comments or with someone you trust.
Confession time: I hate leg day. Yep. Hate it with a passion!
Give me chest, shoulders, or biceps, and I’m good to go. But leg day? No thanks. That’s the day I suddenly feel the urge to take a rest day.
It’s not that I can’t do squats or deadlifts. Actually the moves aren’t hard at all and I can handle a decent amount of weight. I just don’t want to. They’re uncomfortable. They burn. They make it hard to sit or stand the next day. Heck they make me question all my life choices.
But you know what happens when you skip leg day too often? You start to look like a man riding a chicken. You’re all big up top, tiny at the bottom, unstable when life gets heavy.
And honestly, that’s what a lot of Christians look like spiritually. Strong in the more visible areas like church attendance, Christian talk, surface-level kindness that better not interrupt my day. But all too often weak in the parts that actually carry the weight.
Because real faith, like real strength, is built from the ground up.
The Apostle Paul wrote, “Train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way.” (1 Timothy 4:7–8, ESV) He wasn’t talking about how we handle ourselves at the gym. He was talking about discipline. The kind of commitment that builds unseen strength.
It’s the same in devotion. Everybody loves the mountaintop moments! You know the powerful worship set, the answered prayer, the goosebumps of God’s presence. But not many people love the grind. The leg day of the spiritual walk. Things like showing up to Scripture when it feels dry, praying when nothing visible is happening, serving when nobody seems to notice.
That’s spiritual leg day. It’s not fun. It’s not flashy. But it’s what gives your faith stability when life drops something heavy on your shoulders.
The older I get, the more I realize: Faith that skips leg day looks good in the mirror but collapses under pressure.
So yeah, I still hate deadlifts. But I do them. Not because I like them, but because I need what they build. The endurance, humility, and strength where it counts.
The same goes for devotion. God’s not impressed by how spiritual you look up top. He’s shaping the foundation underneath.
So show up. Do the not so – glamorous work. Train your soul as much as your body. Because when life gets heavy (and it will), you don’t want to be the spiritual guy or gal riding a chicken!
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.
This Sunday, we dug into 1 Thessalonians 5:12–28. Paul wasn’t writing to pastors to tell them to toughen up. He was writing to the church to remind believers how to live together well.
Here’s the deal: God’s will for us isn’t complicated. It’s radical in its simplicity:
Honor those who lead you.
Encourage each other.
Live at peace.
Be patient.
Pray without ceasing.
That’s it. Nothing flashy. Nothing Instagram-worthy. Just daily, gritty, relational obedience.
Think about it. Honoring leaders isn’t just nodding smiling in a pew on Sunday. It’s supporting them, speaking well of them, and helping shoulder the weight of ministry.
Honoring one another isn’t just being polite. It’s listening, forgiving, serving, and speaking truth even when it’s hard or inconvenient.
Paul ends the letter reminding us: “May the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Thessalonians 5:23, ESV)
Notice that “blameless” life he describes isn’t solo work. It’s built in community with leaders guiding, and with each of us doing our part to honor one another.
So here’s this week’s takeaway: Your faith doesn’t grow in isolation.
Faith grows in the way you treat people around you especially those who are leading. And that’s not optional. It’s the will of God in Christ for you.
Hey Jesus following types. Did you know that if you’re a Jesus follower then, following Jesus is not optional? I know that sounds crazy but too often we make it sound like it’s an option. We often live like we can choose if and when we decide to follow him.
Look I get it. It’s not always convenient. But it’s also not something you check off only when you have time.
It’s all in or nothing.
Your Calling Doesn’t Wait
Jesus didn’t say, “Follow Me when it’s easy.” He didn’t say, “Love when it’s comfortable.” He didn’t say, “Serve when it fits your schedule.”
He said, “Follow Me.” And nestled neatly in the unspoken part of that invitation and command to follow is the idea of every day. All the time. No excuses.
You see. Excuses don’t honor God. Fear doesn’t honor God. Comfort doesn’t glorify Him.
Your calling as a follower of Jesus is bigger than your doubts, your tiredness, your calendar, even your comfort zone.
Love Without Limits
If you’re waiting to love only the people who deserve it, you’ve missed the point. Not to mention you’ll be waiting a long time my friend!
Jesus didn’t love “only the good people.” He didn’t wait for the world to be nice first. He gave His life for people who hated Him, ignored Him, and rejected Him.
That’s the standard. Love without limits. Every time. No questions asked.
Serve Without Question
Service isn’t a hobby. It’s not a resume-builder. It’s a response to grace. Not grace shown you by the people you love but grace shown you by Jesus himself.
When the world says, “Why bother?” we say, “Because Jesus did.” When the world says, “What’s in it for me?” we say, “What’s in me for them?”
Serving isn’t convenient. It’s costly. It’s messy. It’s the Gospel in motion.
There are no participation trophies in Kingdom work. There’s no safe middle ground. There’s no “Jesus-lite” version of life. You either live it fully while loving, serving, giving, forgiving or you don’t.
No excuses. No apologies. All in.
Quick Challenge
Today, stop hiding behind busyness. Stop waiting for the “right moment.” Stop soft-pedaling your faith.
Pick up your cross. Love boldly. Serve fearlessly.
Because the world doesn’t need more spectators. It needs followers of Jesus, fully alive, fully committed, fully His.
Somewhere along the way, the Church (Kingdom of God globally) started acting like the church (congregations in local communities).
We traded Kingdom vision for congregational maintenance. We started measuring success by program attendance instead of life transformation. We have become more obsessed with our church’s growth than God’s Kingdom advancing.
And that’s a problem!
When the Church Becomes Too Small
Jesus didn’t die to build a church brand. He died to bring the Kingdom of God crashing into a broken world.
But many of us have started living like our congregation is the Kingdom. As if our membership rolls, our budget, our building projects, and our social media reach somehow equal the movement of God.
Too many of our prayers sound like “God, grow our church,” when they should sound like “God, grow Your Kingdom even if it’s not through us.”
You know what. That’s a dangerous shift. Because the moment we make church about our congregation instead of God’s Kingdom, we stop being the Church altogether.
The Kingdom is Bigger Than Your Logo
When Jesus talked about the Kingdom, He wasn’t talking about a brand, a denomination, or a Sunday morning time slot. He was talking about His reign breaking into every corner of the world.
“The kingdom of God is not coming in ways that can be observed… For behold, the kingdom of God is in the midst of you.” – Luke 17:20–21 (ESV)
The Kingdom is wherever Jesus rules hearts, heals the broken, forgives sinners, and sets captives free. That means it’s happening in homes, workplaces, schools, parks, prisons, and yep it’s happening in other churches too.
Look. If the only time we celebrate the work of God is when it happens in our building, we’re no longer building His Kingdom, we’re building our empire.
Kingdom Builders Don’t Compete – They Collaborate
A congregation-centered mindset says, “We’ve got to be the biggest.”
A Kingdom-centered mindset says, “We’ve got to reach the people far from Jesus, no matter who gets the credit.”
A congregation-centered leader says, “Come to our programs.”
A Kingdom-centered disciple says, “Go into the world starting in your neighborhood.”
When the early church grew, it wasn’t because Peter and Paul were trying to fill seats. It was because they couldn’t stop talking about Jesus. The Kingdom spread like wildfire because believers were scattered and sent, not settled and safe.
Pretty sure we need that again.
It’s Time to Think Bigger
I know all analogies break down over time. I get it. But here’s one to at least help us start seeing things a little differently.
Think of your congregation as a vehicle. And the Kingdom is the destination. And if the vehicle ever becomes more important than the mission (destination), we’ve lost our way. No kiddo ever gets in a car headed to Disney more excited about the car than the theme park. We should be the same way as the local church pointing people with great excitement to the Kingdom not the carpet.
Maybe the hard question we need to ask is this:
Would we still rejoice if revival broke out across our community and none of it happened under our roof?
Would we still celebrate if families met Jesus at another church down the road?
Would we still serve if no one ever knew our name?
If the answer is “no,” then we’ve confused church growth with Kingdom growth.
The Church is not a club to grow. It’s a movement to unleash.
Jesus didn’t tell us to build our own crowd. He told us to make disciples of all nations. That means, He didn’t say “grow your congregation.” He said “seek first the Kingdom of God.” (Matthew 6:33)
Don’t get me wrong. The local church can and should grow. But the local expression of church never should be more of a focus than the Kingdom of God.
So let’s stop playing small. Let’s stop guarding our corner of the Kingdom and start advancing it together. Let’s stop worrying about how big our church can get and start dreaming about how far His Kingdom can go.
Because the goal isn’t a full sanctuary. It’s a full heaven.
