I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. Often, we view these words of Jesus only through the lens of salvation and what awaits us in heaven. Yes, it encompasses those aspects, but there is something deeper Jesus wants us to understand. Jesus isn’t talking about a place we will go to someday; He’s speaking about a person who wants to be in a life-giving relationship with us every day.

Today, we encounter Jesus talking to a large crowd, after extending grace to a woman caught in adultery. Those who dropped their stones and left have returned, perplexed by this radical display of love. It is in this moment that Jesus speaks about a light that brings hope to the darkness in our world, and at times, inside our hearts.

What makes Jesus our hope, not only in the holiday season but every day and in every moment, rests in His heart, character, and nature. We don’t want to run past this profound truth, so this week we’re spending our time together reflecting on the different ways Jesus describes Himself in the Gospels. Yesterday, we considered how our spiritual hunger, those deep longings for meaning, purpose, and value, find their ultimate satisfaction in Christ Jesus - the Bread of Life. Today, we want to remind ourselves that we all need the intentional and compassionate care of a Savior, and we need look no further than Jesus, the One known as the Good Shepherd.

Today, we encounter Jesus right after He pulled off a culinary miracle by feeding 5,000 people with just five loaves of bread and two fish. With their hunger pains gone, the crowd marveled at what transpired. Having a captivated audience, Jesus took the opportunity to speak about a different type of hunger and thirst - this time a spiritual one.

As a parent, this is harder to swallow for my kids' sake than my own. I wish they didn't have to face trials; I wish I could protect them from the broken and ugly parts of the world and keep them in a bubble of goodness. But that isn't a reality, and as I read today's passage, I recognize my job as a parent is not to save my kids from pain; it is to help them walk through the pain that life will inevitably bring. It is to help them learn and grow through the good and bad moments and ultimately remember they are loved. But isn't this what Christ calls us to do as people, not just parents? God designed us to be in community with one another and walk through life together. 

God will always race to our rescue. When we call out to God, He doesn't hesitate to rush to our side. Even if we don't feel His presence right away, we can trust that God is close to us in our heartbreak (Psalm 34:18). It's important to remember that our emotions don't often reflect our spiritual reality. Our feelings tell us warped stories about God; they will tell us He is far from us and that He doesn't have a loving reason for letting us experience hurt. They will say He is slow to save us, even though His help always comes at the right time (2 Peter 3:9).

“How did you get here?”

This is what I imagine the angel at heaven’s gate asking when this former thief showed up in heaven. How could this man marked by sin up until his death suddenly be allowed in heaven?

I'm a chronic snoozer. It doesn't matter how long I have slept, how many alarms I have set, or the location of my alarm clock. 99.9% of the time, I hit the snooze button. In college, I bought a round alarm clock that vibrated and would roll off the bedside table. You had to get up and locate the rolling alarm clock to turn the alarm off. Still, I snoozed.

Goodness is difficult to define if you truly think about it. You could ask 100 people to define goodness, and you will get 100 different answers. But one crucial lesson we can all learn is that goodness can exist even when it does not feel like it is present. This can be a struggle for a lot of us as we are conditioned to associate good things with positive feelings such as joy and excitement. But if goodness were tied to emotions, it would be inconsistent and shaky.

As we had never attended church regularly as a family, I couldn't imagine what Port City Church would come to mean to us and for us. So far from home and more seekers than believers, we were reserved, watchful, quiet consumers. Did we fit in? Were we "church goers" now? Did that label fit? Did we feel that sense of belonging in this new place?

When was the last time you heard some good news? I mean, real good news? The type of news that gets your heart racing, or the type of good news that once you hear it you cannot think of anything else?

A few summers ago, my wife and I were in California for a family wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony for two people head over heels in love with each other…

To save a few bucks, we recently cut the cord - goodbye cable, hello digital antenna. Unfortunately, even though this decision helps our budget's bottom line, it drastically reduces our viewing options…

Very few people had more of an impact on my childhood than my Great Aunt Dotty. Her kind and compassionate heart were second to none. As soon I'd get off the school bus, I'd head to the living room where Dotty was inevitably sitting in her recliner watching Days of Our Lives…

My freshman year of high school, I got sick. Really sick. I had to leave school and live in the hospital for several months to receive treatment. The hospital I was sent to was located in Baltimore, Maryland—over 400 miles away from home. I was at my lowest. I didn’t want to fight my illness anymore. It felt too difficult, and I was exhausted. I had all but accepted defeat. I was angry with God, angry with my circumstances, and angry with the world. 

When I was in college, I fell in love with paddle boarding. I worked part-time at a local shop that wanted to begin paddleboarding tours at Bald Head. Although I didn't know much about it at the time, I was willing to learn and didn't want to pass up an opportunity to spend the day on the water. So I volunteered to lead as many lessons and tours as possible and quickly discovered where I most felt at peace. It was serene and beautiful. Looking around, I felt incomprehensibly small in the grand view of the world surrounding me. It wasn't a diminishing type of small, but more a comforting kind that reminded me I wasn't in control. The weight of the challenges in this world weren't mine to carry.

If it were up to my dad, you wouldn't be reading this devotional because it wouldn't exist. Before you get the wrong impression, let me reassure you that he isn't anti-religion or faith; he is just that much of a golf fan…