Month: August 2026

People are leaving secure jobs and investing their savings in the hope of making a fortune. Prices are rising rapidly, and no one knows how long the opportunity will last. Some will become rich. Many more will arrive too late. A few people have recognized that there may be a safer way to profit. Instead of trying to find the treasure themselves, they will sell the equipment everyone else needs to search for it.

This could describe investing in 2026.

But it is not 2026.

It is 1848, and gold has just been discovered in California.

Samuel Brannan owned a store at Sutter’s Fort when he learned that the rumors were true. There really was gold near the American River. Brannan did not become wealthy by mining it. He returned to San Francisco with a bottle of gold dust and walked through the streets shouting, “Gold! Gold! Gold from the American River!”

The announcement helped set off the California Gold Rush. Men left their jobs, families crossed the country, and ship crews abandoned their vessels in San Francisco Bay. Everyone wanted a chance to find gold. Brannan was waiting for them. He sold the miners the picks, shovels, pans, food, and supplies they needed. While each miner faced the possibility of finding nothing, Brannan made money whenever another hopeful prospector arrived. His store sometimes sold as much as $5,000 in merchandise in a single day—the equivalent of roughly $200,000 today. He became California’s first millionaire, not by discovering gold, but by supplying the people who were searching for it.

That is the origin of one of the most familiar ideas in investing: during a gold rush, do not buy the gold; buy the companies selling the picks and shovels. We see the same strategy today. When a new industry begins to grow, investors naturally want to identify the company that will eventually dominate it. The problem is that today’s apparent leader may not be tomorrow’s winner. New competitors emerge, technology changes, and companies that once seemed unstoppable can disappear. Instead of trying to predict the winner, a picks-and-shovels investor looks for the businesses that all the competitors will need.

During the Gold Rush, those businesses provided mining equipment, transportation, food, and shelter. In today’s artificial-intelligence boom, they may provide semiconductors, electricity, data centers, networking equipment, or cooling systems.

It is a sensible investment principle. There is nothing wrong with recognizing where demand is likely to develop or with investing prudently.

But there is a spiritual question hidden inside the strategy. The miner wanted to become rich by finding gold. Samuel Brannan wanted to become rich by selling supplies to those searching for it. Brannan’s method was more reliable, but was his heart necessarily seeking anything different?

We sometimes assume that because our approach is more intelligent, our motives no longer need to be examined. We are not recklessly chasing the latest investment. We have studied the market, considered the risks, and chosen the companies most likely to profit regardless of who wins.

We may have avoided the foolishness of the crowd while still being driven by the same desire.

Jesus asked:
For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?
Mark 8:36 (ESV)

The word profit is important. Jesus was asking His listeners to consider the entire transaction. What was gained? What was lost? A person could make what appeared to be the most successful trade imaginable—gaining the whole world—and still discover that the price was far too high.

Jesus was not condemning careful planning, investing, or wealth itself. Money can provide for our families, support ministries, relieve suffering, and create opportunities to serve others. The question is not simply how much we have, but what we expect it to do for us. Are we using wealth as something God has entrusted to us, or are we depending on it to give us security, identity, and peace?

“Picks and shovels” may be a smarter way to invest during a gold rush. But no investment strategy, however wise, can protect the heart from greed. It can only change the way we pursue what we want.

Before asking which company will supply the next gold rush, perhaps we should ask a more important question:

What am I hoping to find when I become wealthy?

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #picksandshovels #Mark8:36 #goldrush #AI

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Political leaders warn that the other side is destroying the country.
Newspapers portray political opponents as dangerous.
Compromise begins to look like weakness.
People increasingly believe that the future of America depends upon defeating those on the other side.
The language becomes harsher.
The anger becomes personal.
And eventually, political disagreement becomes violence.

It sounds painfully familiar.

But this isn’t America in 2026.

It’s America in 1856.

On May 22, 1856, Senator Charles Sumner of Massachusetts was sitting at his desk inside the United States Senate. Two days earlier, Sumner had delivered a fiery antislavery speech called “The Crime Against Kansas”.

He condemned the spread of slavery into Kansas and personally attacked several of its defenders, including Senator Andrew Butler of South Carolina. Butler’s relative, Representative Preston Brooks, decided Sumner had gone too far. Brooks entered the Senate chamber carrying a heavy cane. He approached Sumner at his desk. And began beating him. Again. And again. Sumner was trapped beneath his desk as Brooks struck him repeatedly. The attack was so severe that Sumner would suffer from its effects for years.

A political argument had become physical violence. But perhaps the most disturbing part of the story came next. America couldn’t even agree about the beating. In much of the North, Sumner became a symbol of the brutality of the slave power. In parts of the South, Brooks was celebrated. The same event. Two completely different interpretations. Americans were no longer simply disagreeing about politics. Increasingly, they were living in different moral worlds.

One day before Brooks attacked Sumner, proslavery forces descended upon Lawrence, Kansas, an antislavery stronghold. Buildings were destroyed. Newspaper presses were smashed. Violence between proslavery and antislavery settlers had been escalating since passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854, which opened the question of slavery’s expansion in the territories.

By June 1856, Kansas was effectively experiencing a small civil war. Congress was fighting with words. Kansas was fighting with weapons. And Americans increasingly looked across the political divide and no longer saw fellow citizens. They saw enemies. Five years later, the United States would be at war with itself.

History rarely repeats itself perfectly. America in 2026 is not America in 1856. And there is an especially important distinction here. The great political conflict of the 1850s centered on slavery. Human beings created in the image of God were being bought, sold, separated from their families, and held as property. There was no moral equivalence between slavery and freedom.

So the lesson of 1856 is not that every political disagreement has two equally righteous sides. Sometimes one side really is wrong. Sometimes evil must be confronted. Charles Sumner was right to oppose slavery. But history reveals another danger as well. We can become so convinced of the righteousness of our cause that we begin to believe almost anything is justified against those who oppose us. And that is when something begins to happen inside us.

Think about the progression. At first, someone simply disagrees with me. Then I decide that person is wrong. Then dangerous. Then evil. Eventually, I no longer ask: “How can I persuade them?” I begin asking: “How can we defeat them?” And once someone becomes my enemy, contempt becomes easier. Mockery becomes easier. Hatred becomes easier. Sometimes even violence becomes easier. Political violence rarely begins with violence. It begins much earlier. It begins when we stop seeing the person across from us as a person.

Listen to the way Americans talk about one another today. Not just politicians. Ordinary people. Neighbors. Friends. Families. Even Christians. Conservative. Liberal. MAGA. Progressive. Woke. Fascist. Socialist. Christian nationalist. Marxist.

The labels are different from 1856. The human tendency is not. Once I have labeled you, I don’t have to know you. Once I have classified you, I don’t have to listen to you. And once I decide that you are not merely mistaken but dangerous, treating you badly can begin to feel virtuous. That may be one of the most dangerous things about political hatred. It rarely feels like hatred to the person doing the hating. It feels like righteousness.

Jesus lived in a bitterly divided world. Rome occupied Judea. Some Jews cooperated with Rome. Others wanted revolution. Political and religious factions despised one another.

Into that world Jesus said:

Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.
Matthew 5:44 (ESV)

Jesus did not say: Pretend evil isn’t evil. He did not say: Truth doesn’t matter. He did not say: Justice doesn’t matter. He did not tell His followers never to oppose wrongdoing. He told them what they must never become while opposing it. People consumed by hatred. That distinction matters. I can oppose what you believe without hating you. I can believe you are profoundly wrong without treating you as less than human. I can fight injustice without allowing injustice to transform my own heart.

James gives us another uncomfortable warning:

With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God.
James 3:9 (ESV)

That verse is easy to read abstractly. It becomes harder when we attach a face to it. The politician you cannot stand. The neighbor with the yard sign you hate. The family member whose political posts make you angry. The person whose vote you cannot understand. The person you believe is helping destroy the country. They are still made in the likeness of God. That doesn’t make their ideas right. It doesn’t require you to agree with them. It doesn’t even require you to remain silent when you believe something is wrong. But it does mean that contempt has no place in the heart of someone who follows Christ.

How Divided Can America Become? History has already answered that question. Very divided. Divided enough for a congressman to beat a senator inside the Capitol. Divided enough for Americans to begin killing one another in Kansas. Eventually, divided enough for Americans to go to war against one another.

The Library of Congress describes the conflict over slavery during the 1850s as bringing the United States to the brink of destruction. But perhaps How Divided Can America Become? isn’t the most important question. Perhaps the question for me is: How much hatred will I allow into my own heart?

Because I probably won’t wake up tomorrow and suddenly decide to hate someone. It happens more quietly than that. First I stop listening. Then I mock. Then I dismiss. Then I assume the worst. Then one day I look across the political divide—and I no longer see a neighbor. I see an enemy.

History warns us where that road can lead. Jesus tells us to take another road. You may believe the person across from you is terribly wrong. You may even be right. But if you have begun thinking of that person as your enemy, Jesus has already told you what to do.

Love them.
Pray for them.

And whatever happens to America, do not allow hatred to happen to you.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #howdividedcanamericabecome #Matthew5:44

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When I think about superheroes and secret identities, I immediately think of Superman. Everyone knows the story. To the world, he is Superman—faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. But when the cape comes off and the glasses go on, he becomes Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter for the Daily Planet.

Of course, we know the secret. Clark Kent is Superman. Or is Superman Clark Kent? It seems like a silly distinction, but the more I thought about it, the more interesting it became.

For many superheroes, the explanation is fairly obvious. Peter Parker doesn’t want everyone knowing he is Spider-Man. Bruce Wayne doesn’t announce that he is Batman. Clark Kent doesn’t walk into the Daily Planet wearing his cape.

Part of the reason is protection. If everyone knew who they really were, the people they loved could become targets. But there is another advantage. A secret identity allows the superhero to have an ordinary life. Clark can go to work. Peter can have friends. Bruce Wayne can move through Gotham society without everyone knowing what he does at night. There are two worlds. And somehow, they have to live in both. But not every superhero does this.

Stephen Strange was already Dr. Stephen Strange before he became the sorcerer we know as Doctor Strange. He had been a brilliant surgeon. After an accident damaged his hands and ended the career around which he had built his life, his search for healing eventually led him somewhere completely unexpected. He didn’t simply acquire a costume and preserve his old existence behind it. His encounter with something beyond the world he had known changed the entire direction of his life. Stephen Strange was still Stephen Strange. But his old life could no longer contain who he had become.

And that distinction made me wonder: Which kind of superhero am I more like? Someone maintaining two separate identities? Or someone whose encounter with something greater has transformed everything else? Because Christians can become surprisingly good at living in two worlds.

I have had quite a few identities during my life. Son. Husband. Father. Doctor. Business owner. Musician. Writer. Christian. Some of those identities were given to me. Others I worked very hard to acquire. Put me in a medical setting, and one identity comes forward. Hand me a guitar, and another appears. Put me around my family, and I am something else again.

None of that is necessarily dishonest. We all have different roles. But there is a difference between having different roles and having different identities. Because eventually I have to ask:

Which one is really me? And perhaps an even more uncomfortable question: Which one would be hardest for me to lose?

Imagine Clark Kent permanently losing his powers. Who is he then? Imagine Bruce Wayne losing his fortune, Wayne Manor, his company, the Batcave and everything that allows him to be Batman. Who is left? Imagine Stephen Strange never being able to operate again. For him, that wasn’t imaginary. The identity around which he had constructed his life was suddenly gone. That’s not merely a comic-book question.

Take away my career. Who am I? Take away the title people once put after my name. Who am I? Take away the accomplishments. The possessions. The reputation. The people who know what I have done. Take away every identity I have spent a lifetime constructing. Who is left?

That question becomes particularly important because eventually, whether voluntarily or not, many of those identities will be taken away. Careers end. Positions disappear. Children grow up. Bodies weaken. Possessions pass to someone else. Even our names eventually become memories. So if my identity is built primarily upon something temporary, I have a problem. Eventually, I lose myself.

There is an unusual sentence in Paul’s letter to the Colossians:

For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.
Colossians 3:3 (ESV)

Hidden.

That sounds almost like a secret identity. But notice what Paul says is hidden. Not my religion. Not my beliefs. Not even my relationship with Christ. My life.

Then he continues:

When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.
Colossians 3:4 (ESV)

Paul doesn’t say Christ is part of my life. He says Christ is my life. That changes the question completely.

Perhaps the great danger for a Christian isn’t simply that we hide our faith. It’s that we begin treating Christianity as one of our identities. Doctor. Father. Musician. Writer. Christian. Just another item on the list. An identity appropriate for certain places and certain situations. 

Sunday morning? Christian.
At work? Professional.
With friends? Something else.
Online? Perhaps someone else entirely.

We move between identities as easily as Clark Kent steps into a phone booth. Except Christianity makes a much more radical claim.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.
2 Corinthians 5:17 (ESV)

Following Christ isn’t supposed to give me another costume. It gives me a new life. In that sense, perhaps Doctor Strange provides the more interesting comparison. His encounter with another reality didn’t simply add another identity to his old one. It changed the life around which every other identity had been built. Shouldn’t an encounter with Christ do infinitely more?

And that’s where my little superhero thought experiment finally turned around on me. Maybe I’ve been asking the wrong question. I started by wondering why superheroes need secret identities.

Now I’m wondering: Do I have one?*

Is the person I am in Christ the identity around which everything else in my life is organized? Or has that become the identity I quietly put on and take off? Because if Christ truly is my life, then “Christian” cannot simply be one more role alongside doctor, husband, father, musician or writer. Those are things I do. Some are relationships I treasure. Some are gifts God has allowed me to enjoy. Some may last decades. Others may disappear tomorrow. But none of them can answer the ultimate question: Who am I? Only Christ can.

Which leads to one final irony. Clark Kent takes off his glasses and reveals Superman. Bruce Wayne disappears into the darkness and becomes Batman. Peter Parker puts on a mask and becomes Spider-Man. Stephen Strange is different. His old life was shattered, and what he encountered afterward changed the direction of everything that remained. Perhaps that’s closer to what the Christian life is supposed to look like.

I don’t need to become somebody else. I don’t need another costume. And I don’t need an alter ego. I need everything false, temporary and self-created to gradually fall away until the person God says I am becomes the person I actually live as. Maybe my identity in Christ was never supposed to be my secret identity. Maybe everything else was.

Love and trust the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #secretidentity #Colossians3:3

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A revolutionary new technology was going to change the world. Investors couldn’t get enough of it. New companies appeared almost overnight. Enormous amounts of money were being spent to build the infrastructure needed to support it. People who had never invested before wanted in. Companies rushed to associate themselves with the new technology.
And anyone who questioned the enthusiasm risked being dismissed as someone who simply didn’t understand the future.

You know what I’m talking about. Except I’m not talking about AI.

I’m talking about Britain in the 1840s. The new technology was the railroad. And people were going crazy over it. To be fair, they had good reason to be excited. Railroads really were changing everything. Travel became faster. Goods could move more efficiently. Cities and towns that had once seemed far apart were suddenly connected in a way they had never been before.

This wasn’t some useless invention that people had talked themselves into believing was important. It was important. That was exactly what made the excitement so convincing. Once people saw what railroads could do, the next step seemed obvious. Build more.

Railway companies began appearing everywhere. New routes were proposed all over Britain. Investors poured money into them, often before anyone really knew whether those routes made economic sense. It became known as “Railway Mania”. Some people made fortunes. A lot of people lost them.

But the interesting part is that the railroads themselves were not the problem. The technology survived the mania. More than that, it fulfilled much of the promise people had seen in it. Railroads did change the world. What didn’t survive were all the assumptions investors had made about what every railroad company would be worth. That distinction is easy to miss. You can be right about a technology and still be very wrong about an investment.

We saw it again about 150 years later. The Internet arrived, and once again people correctly understood that something enormous was happening. Companies raced to get online. Investors raced even faster. During the dot-com era, simply being associated with the Internet could attract attention. Companies with little revenue and questionable business models were suddenly worth extraordinary amounts of money because investors believed they were buying a piece of the future. Then the bubble burst. A lot of those companies disappeared. The Internet didn’t. It became even more important than most people had imagined.

Which brings us to AI. I don’t think artificial intelligence is a fad. I use it. I see what it can already do. I think it is likely to change medicine, business, education, research and countless other areas in ways we probably haven’t fully grasped yet. But that is not the same thing as saying every company connected to AI is a good investment.

Those are two very different ideas. And that is where history becomes useful. It doesn’t tell us that AI is about to collapse. It doesn’t tell us which company is overpriced. It doesn’t even tell us whether today’s enthusiasm will eventually look foolish. What it does tell us is that people have a remarkable tendency to lose perspective when they become convinced they are looking at the future. We see other people making money and begin wondering whether we are being left behind. We become less concerned about price because we are more interested in possibility.

At some point, excitement can begin to feel like certainty. And certainty is dangerous when none of us actually knows what comes next.

That is why this verse caught my attention:

Do not toil to acquire wealth; be discerning enough to desist. When your eyes light on it, it is gone, for suddenly it sprouts wings,  flying like an eagle toward heaven.
Proverbs 23:4–5 (ESV)

I don’t read that as a warning against investing. I read it as a warning against becoming consumed by wealth. There is a difference. Investing can be wise. Planning for the future can be responsible. But the moment our eyes become fixed on getting richer, something changes. Greed becomes easier to justify. Envy starts sounding reasonable. Fear of missing out starts pretending to be wisdom.

Maybe AI will turn out to be every bit as revolutionary as its strongest supporters believe. Maybe today’s biggest AI companies will still dominate twenty years from now. Maybe some of the people buying them today will make enormous amounts of money. I don’t know. But I do know this.

The people caught up in Railway Mania thought they were looking at the future. They were. The people buying Internet stocks in the late 1990s thought they were looking at the future. They were too. Being right about the future did not make every decision they made along the way wise. That is the part worth remembering.

Perhaps this time really is different. 

But I doubt we are.

Love and trust the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #railwaymania #Proverbs23:4-5 #railways #dotcom #AI

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A well-known Christian leader is assassinated.
His wife and children are grieving.
The country is shocked, and almost immediately conspiracy theories begin to circulate about who was really responsible.

This sounds like something that happened recently.

But it was 1968.

On April 4, 1968, Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in Memphis, Tennessee. He was only 39 years old. His wife, Coretta, was left to raise their four children. His murder shocked the country, and questions surrounding his assassination continued for years.

Now fast-forward to 2025.

Charlie Kirk was speaking at a university when he was shot and killed. He was 31 years old. His wife and two young children were left behind. Again, the country was shocked. And again, almost immediately, there were rumors, accusations, and conspiracy theories about what had happened and who might have been involved.

Martin Luther King Jr. and Charlie Kirk were very different men living in very different times. Their ministries, politics, and historical circumstances were certainly not the same. But both were very public about their Christian beliefs, and both were willing to speak about convictions that many people strongly opposed.

That made me think about something Jesus said to His disciples:

If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you.
John 15:18 (ESV)

We sometimes think that if Christians are kind, reasonable, and respectful, people will at least respect what we believe. Sometimes they will. But Jesus never promised that they always would.

In fact, He told His disciples:

If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.
John 15:20 (ESV)

We see this throughout the Bible. John the Baptist confronted Herod about his sin and was eventually beheaded. Stephen openly proclaimed Christ and was stoned to death. The apostles were threatened, beaten, imprisoned, and persecuted because of their testimony about Jesus. And of course, Jesus Himself was rejected and crucified.

Paul later wrote:

Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.
2 Timothy 3:12 (ESV)

That does not mean that every criticism of a Christian is persecution. Sometimes Christians are criticized because we are wrong. Sometimes we say things poorly. Sometimes we can be unnecessarily offensive and then convince ourselves that people are rejecting Christ when they may really be reacting to us. So we need to examine ourselves carefully. But there are also times when the problem is simply that biblical truth is not popular.

Jesus never told us that following Him would always be comfortable. Most of us will probably never face the kind of persecution that Christians have faced throughout history. I certainly do not expect to be asked to give my life for my faith.

But I can still ask myself a much simpler question. What happens when following Christ costs me something? What if I am mocked because of what I believe? What if someone thinks less of me because I believe the Bible? What if saying what Scripture teaches makes me unpopular? Will I quietly change what I believe so that people will accept me? Or will I remain faithful to Christ?

I hope I never have to face the kind of choice that Stephen, the apostles, or countless Christians throughout history have faced. But Jesus’ warning still applies to me.

“A servant is not greater than his master.”

If Christ was rejected, I should not be surprised when following Him sometimes brings rejection as well. The question is not whether I can make everyone agree with me. I can’t. The question is whether I will remain faithful to Christ when it would be easier not to.

I pray that I will.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #assasination #John15:20

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“Peace at any price!”
“Stop the war!”
“No more bloodshed!”
“Give peace a chance!”

The signs fill the streets. Crowds gather in protest. Politicians warn against escalation. Parents fear for their sons and daughters. Commentators ask how many more people must die before someone finally chooses peace. The argument seems almost impossible to oppose. After all, who wants war?

War kills soldiers and civilians. It destroys homes, separates families, and leaves wounds that can last for generations. Surely peace is better. Surely almost any peace is better than war. And listening to the voices around us today, we might think this is a uniquely modern debate.

It isn’t. Imagine America watching a war unfolding overseas. Americans are weary of foreign conflicts. They don’t want their young men sent across an ocean to fight someone else’s war. There are rallies. There are speeches. There are organizations dedicated to keeping America out of the conflict. The argument is simple: This isn’t our war.

It sounds remarkably contemporary. But the year isn’t 2026.

It’s 1940.

Across the Atlantic, Adolf Hitler’s armies have swept through much of Europe. Poland has fallen. France has fallen. Britain stands increasingly alone. Yet many Americans remain determined that the United States must stay out. Their reluctance wasn’t difficult to understand. World War I had been horrific. More than 100,000 Americans had died. Millions more had died throughout Europe. Americans had been promised that it was “the war to end all wars.”

It wasn’t. Why should another generation be sent to die? So a powerful non-intervention movement grew across the United States. The America First Committee eventually attracted hundreds of thousands of members. They wanted peace. And there is nothing inherently wrong with wanting peace. The problem was what was happening while everyone was trying to preserve it.

Before America Said “Stay Out” Europe had already tried another strategy. Appeasement. In September 1938, British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain returned from Munich after reaching an agreement with Adolf Hitler. Britain and France had allowed Hitler to take the Sudetenland from Czechoslovakia after Hitler promised that his territorial ambitions would go no further. Chamberlain returned home believing war had been avoided. He famously spoke of: “Peace for our time.”

Crowds celebrated. After the unimaginable slaughter of World War I, who could blame them? Peace had been preserved. Except it hadn’t. Within months, Hitler violated the agreement and occupied the rest of Czechoslovakia. Then came Poland. Then Denmark and Norway. Then Belgium and the Netherlands. Then France. The peace hadn’t stopped the aggressor. It had bought him time.

Of course peace is good. Jesus said:

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
Matthew 5:9 (ESV)

Christians should never glorify war. We should grieve every life lost. We should pray for reconciliation. We should seek peaceful solutions whenever they are possible.

But Scripture says something interesting about peace.

Paul writes:

If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.
Romans 12:18 (ESV)

Those first two words matter.

If possible.

Scripture recognizes something our slogans sometimes don’t. Peace doesn’t depend upon only one person. You can choose not to hate. You can choose not to seek revenge. You can choose reconciliation. You can refuse unnecessary conflict. But you cannot force another person—or another nation—to desire peace. Sometimes the person standing across from you doesn’t want reconciliation. Sometimes he wants surrender. And those are not the same thing.

That is what makes the phrase “peace at any price” so dangerous. Because the word peace sounds unquestionably good. But the words at any price should make us stop. What if the price is someone else’s freedom? What if the price is allowing injustice to continue? What if the price is abandoning people who cannot defend themselves? What if the price is pretending evil isn’t evil because confronting it would be costly?

There are moments when avoiding conflict feels compassionate precisely because someone else will pay the bill. History gives us uncomfortable examples of that. And perhaps that is why Ecclesiastes doesn’t simply tell us there is a time for peace.

It says:

…a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:8 (ESV)

I wish the verse ended differently. I wish there were only a time for peace. But we live in a fallen world. And sometimes there are no painless choices.

Today the names are different. The countries are different. The circumstances are different. And history should never be forced into simplistic comparisons. Every conflict must be judged on its own facts. But the human question hasn’t changed. When war threatens, we understandably want it stopped.

I do too. I don’t want soldiers dying. I don’t want civilians buried beneath rubble. I don’t want another generation of children growing up without fathers or mothers. I want peace. But history has taught me to ask one more question: Peace on whose terms?

Because sometimes what we call peace is merely conflict postponed. Sometimes it means allowing someone weaker to suffer so that someone stronger can remain comfortable. And sometimes peace purchased at any price becomes very expensive indeed.

Ultimately, Scripture points me toward a peace deeper than treaties, ceasefires, or political agreements.

Jesus told His disciples:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you.
John 14:27 (ESV)

The world’s peace depends upon circumstances. Christ’s peace doesn’t. Nations may negotiate. Wars may begin. Wars may end. Borders may change. Leaders may rise and fall. But the peace Christ offers comes from knowing that our lives—and history itself—remain in His hands.

So I will pray for peace. I will hope for peace. I will support every righteous opportunity for peace. But I cannot make peace the highest good.

God is.

And if preserving peace requires me to call evil good, abandon truth, ignore injustice, or sacrifice someone else so that I can remain comfortable, then the price has become too high.

Peace is precious.

But not at any price.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #peaceatanyprice #Romans12:18

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I recently came across the term K-shaped economy again. It became popular during the COVID pandemic, when economists noticed that people were emerging from the same economic crisis in very different ways.

Picture the letter K. One arm goes up. The other goes down. For some people, investments rise, homes appreciate, incomes increase, and opportunities expand. For others, wages struggle to keep up with inflation, housing becomes less affordable, debt increases, and simply paying for the necessities of life becomes harder. Same economy. Two very different experiences.

I started thinking about this because, like most people, I would certainly rather be on the upper arm of the K. Who wouldn’t? I have worked most of my life. I saved. I invested. I built a medical practice. I planned for retirement. I tried to be responsible with what God had given me. And now that I am retired, I still look at the markets. I still notice what my investments are doing. I still think about whether I have saved enough and what things will cost ten or twenty years from now.

There is nothing wrong with that. In fact, I think there is something biblical about planning wisely and being a good steward of what God provides. But there is also a danger. Somewhere along the way, being financially prepared can begin to feel a lot like being secure. They aren’t the same thing.

That thought brought me to a rather disturbing passage in Ezekiel. God was warning Judah that judgment was coming. The people had wealth. They had possessions. They had silver and gold. But Ezekiel describes a day when something remarkable would happen. They would throw it away.

They cast their silver into the streets, and their gold is like an unclean thing. Their silver and gold are not able to deliver them in the day of the wrath of the LORD.
Ezekiel 7:19 (ESV)

I tried to picture that. People throwing silver into the streets. Things they had worked for. Things they had accumulated. Things that probably made them feel secure. Suddenly no one wanted them. The silver hadn’t changed. The gold hadn’t changed. What had changed was what they needed to be saved from. That is where this became personal for me.

For most of my adult life, I have been trained to solve problems. That is what physicians do. Something is wrong. We diagnose it. We figure out what can be done. We make a plan. I probably approached much of the rest of my life the same way. Work hard. Build the practice. Save. Invest. Plan ahead. Prepare for retirement. Try not to leave too much to chance. And much of that is simply responsible living. But eventually I encounter a problem that none of those things can solve. My own mortality.

There is no investment portfolio large enough to change that. No retirement account can buy another day when God says my days are finished. No house, no accomplishment, no professional title, no amount of money can reconcile me to God.

Jesus told a story about a man who discovered exactly that. He was extraordinarily successful. His land produced so much that he didn’t have enough room to store everything. So he decided to tear down his barns and build larger ones. Then he could finally relax. He told himself:

Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.
Luke 12:19 (ESV)

I can understand that man. In fact, I suspect most of us can. Work hard now so someday you can relax. Save enough so you won’t have to worry. Accumulate enough so the future will be secure. Isn’t that essentially the retirement plan most of us spend our lives pursuing?

But then Jesus gives us the next sentence.

But God said to him, “Fool! This night your soul is required of you.”
Luke 12:20 (ESV)

His financial plan had succeeded. His life plan had failed. His barns were full. But he was not ready to meet God.

And that is what I find so sobering about the K-shaped economy. We spend enormous amounts of time wondering which arm we are on. Is my income rising? Are my investments growing? Is my house appreciating? Do I have enough? Will I have enough? And those questions matter. Especially for someone struggling to pay the rent or put food on the table, financial hardship is very real. Christianity should never trivialize that suffering.

But another reality eventually overtakes both arms of the K. The person moving upward dies. The person moving downward dies. The wealthy person dies. The poor person dies. The physician dies. The patient dies.

Eventually, the K becomes a straight line. Every one of us stands before God. And when that happens, something strange occurs. The things that once seemed to separate us become remarkably unimportant. My bank account will not matter. My house will not matter. My degrees will not matter. My medical practice will not matter. Even the things I am proudest of accomplishing will not answer the only question that matters then:

What will save my soul? Ezekiel’s people discovered that their silver and gold could not deliver them. The rich fool discovered that his barns could not deliver him. And someday I will discover the same thing about everything I have accumulated in this life. Fortunately, God has not left me without an answer. My security was never supposed to be in what I could accumulate. It is in what Christ has already done.

Jesus said:

I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.
John 11:25 (ESV)

That is a very different kind of security. The stock market cannot increase it. A recession cannot decrease it. Inflation cannot erode it. And death cannot take it away.

Perhaps that is the question the K-shaped economy ultimately raises for me. I certainly hope I have prepared wisely for the years I have left. But I need to ask myself something far more important. Have I prepared for the day when none of it matters anymore? Because someday everything I own will belong to someone else. Everything I have accomplished will become part of the past. And I will stand before God with nothing in my hands. Nothing, that is, except Christ. And He is enough.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #Kshapedeconomy #Ezekiel7:19

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It was an unfamiliar sound. Something was moving in the brush, accompanied by a faint hissing. Curious, I stepped closer to investigate. My companion quickly grabbed my arm.

“You don’t want to do that!”

“Why not?”

He pointed toward the brush. “There’s a snake in there. It would have attacked you.”

Sure enough, a few seconds later, a snake slithered out, crossed the path, and disappeared just as quickly into the undergrowth.

I grew up in Hawaii, where snakes are illegal to protect the islands’ unique native ecosystem. Aside from those in the zoo, I had never encountered one in the wild. Because of that, I never developed the instinctive caution that people in many parts of the world take for granted.

Had I been alone that day, I probably would have taken another step toward the sound without a second thought. The experience made me wonder how many dangers I pass by every day without ever recognizing them.

Not all dangers are physical. Some are spiritual. Temptation rarely announces itself. Deception seldom looks threatening. Sin often hides quietly, waiting for us to wander just a little closer. By the time we recognize the danger, we may already be within its reach.

The Bible reminds us,

The prudent sees danger and hides himself, but the simple go on and suffer for it.
Proverbs 22:3 (ESV)

The prudent are not simply those who have sharper eyes. They are those who have learned to recognize warnings and respond to them. God, in His grace, warns us through His Word, through the counsel of mature believers, through the conviction of the Holy Spirit, and sometimes through circumstances that keep us from taking another step.

Looking back, I wasn’t afraid of the snake because I didn’t know it was there. Perhaps the greatest dangers in our lives are the ones hidden in the brush—those we cannot yet see but God sees clearly. How thankful I am that He often places someone beside us, or speaks through His Word, to say, “You don’t want to do that,” before we step into harm’s way.

Love and trust in the Lord; seek His will in your life.

#faith #trustinggod #christianity #jesuschrist #bible #seekinggodswill #truth #sanctification #godisincontrol #godhearsourprayers #salvation #providenceofGod #snakes #youdontwanttodothat #Proverbs22:3

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