What Does Fruit Actually Look Like?
We have blackberry brambles growing along the lane near our house in Wales.
Every summer, I walk past them on my way out to walk the dog, and every summer, I stop and stare. On the very same plant, you'll find two completely different stories. One branch is lush and heavy, bowing under the weight of dark, plump berries — leaves glossy, color deep, life just dripping off it. And right next to it? A brittle, grey, bare little stick. No leaves. No berries. Nothing to show for itself at all. Same plant. Same soil. Same rain. Completely different result.
Now, here's the thing. If you saw only the bare branch, you might not immediately know what you were looking at. Was it a blackberry? A rose? Something else entirely? Without fruit, it's awfully hard to identify the plant.
Jesus had something to say about that. "By their fruits ye shall know them." (Matthew 7:20)
Are You a Visitor or a Resident?
I have a confession to make.
For years, I treated my relationship with Christ like most people treat a vacation rental. I'd show up when I needed something, enjoy the warmth for a bit, maybe leave a nice note on the counter, and then go back to my regular life. I called it faith. I called it prayer. I called it being a Christian.
What I didn't call it was visiting.
And there is a world of difference between visiting a place and living there.
Think about it. When you visit somewhere, you pack a bag. You're a guest. You're on your best behavior, you use the nice towels, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you're going home eventually. But when you live somewhere? That's different. You know where the creaky floorboard is. You leave your shoes by the door. You don't have to knock. It's home.
Are You Adding More Flour: What Your Actions Reveal About Your Faith
Jason has been on a bread-making kick lately. Not content with simply buying a loaf at the shop like a normal person, he has become fascinated with grinding his own grain and making bread completely from scratch. So there we were one evening, the two of us snuggled in bed, watching a bread-making tutorial on YouTube.
That's when the real entertainment began.
The instructor was enthusiastic and clearly knew her way around a mixing bowl. But every few minutes, she would look straight into the camera and announce with great confidence, "Now, you really don't need to add any more flour here." And then, without missing a beat, she'd reach right into the flour bag and dump in another handful.
A few minutes later: "I'm going to add just a tiny bit more, but honestly, you really don't need to do this." In went another scoop.
God’s Voice or My Desires? How to Know the Difference
Here's a question I hear often: "How do I know if I'm hearing God's voice or just listening to my own desires?"
It's a legitimate question, and the fact that you're asking it shows you care about getting it right. There is a real difference between what God is calling you to do and what you want to do, and often, those two things are in direct conflict.
Let me be blunt: God's calling rarely feels comfortable.
We live in a culture that celebrates following your dreams and pursuing your passions. "Listen to your heart," they tell us. "Do what makes you happy." "Follow your bliss." There is nothing wrong with joy or fulfillment. But here's what nobody tells you: God's calling on your life might ask you to do something that feels completely wrong by the world's standards.
Are You Voting for Your Church to Close?
This week, I read a heartbreaking article about a 700-year-old church in Wales holding its final service. After centuries of faithful ministry, dwindling attendance and mounting expenses forced the doors to close for good. But here's what struck me as peculiar: the final service was packed! People filled the pews, stood in the aisles, and one by one rose to share how much the church meant to them and their community. My first thought was, "If it meant so much to you, where have you been for the past few years?"
Sadly, this scenario plays out far too often here in Wales. There's even a running joke that churches serve only three purposes: hatch, match, and dispatch (infant baptisms, weddings, and funerals). Yet when another chapel closes its doors permanently—and trust me, it happens alarmingly often—communities act devastated. It's like mourning a friendship you never bothered to maintain.