Saturday, June 20, 2026

How Much Is Enough?- Day 20- June R&R

We are in Ch 16, if you are trying to track reading and devotions..... 

As I mentioned yesterday-  Guinness takes an interesting turn in the middle of the book. Up to this point he has spent much of his time helping readers understand calling itself—what it is, who is calling, and how calling shapes our lives. Then, beginning around Chapter 14, he starts examining some of the forces that quietly undermine calling from within.

At first glance, it almost feels as if he is working through the traditional Seven Deadly Sins. Pride appears first, followed by envy, then greed, and later what he calls "the noonday demon," a form of spiritual sloth. But Guinness is not really writing a systematic study of the sins themselves. His concern is much more practical. He wants to show how these distortions of the heart quietly sabotage our ability to live faithfully in the calling God has given us.

In that sense, the question is not merely, "Have I committed one of these sins?" The deeper question is, "What is driving my life?" Pride can distort calling. Envy can distract it. Greed can redirect it. Sloth can slowly smother it. By the time we arrive at Chapter 16, Guinness has turned his attention to one of the most powerful forces in modern life—the relentless pursuit of more. 

Today's reading asks: How much is enough?

At first glance, Guinness appears to be writing about money, wealth, and capitalism. Those themes are certainly present, but the longer I sat with the chapter, the more I became convinced that he is really writing about something much deeper. Money simply happens to be one of the most visible expressions of a problem that touches almost every area of life.

The title of the chapter is 'More, More, Faster, Faster', and it is difficult to imagine a better description of modern culture.

We live in a world that rarely pauses long enough to enjoy anything. The next promotion is already being pursued before the current one is appreciated. The next purchase is being researched before the last one is paid for. We are constantly looking ahead, convinced that satisfaction is just beyond the next milestone.

The strange thing is that "enough" keeps moving.

I have spent most of my adult life around people who have been financially successful. Working in private education, coaching, and ministry has allowed me to know many generous men and women who have built successful businesses and stewarded significant resources. I have benefited personally from their kindness and generosity, and I am grateful for it.

What I have observed, however, is that money itself is rarely the issue. 
Some people have very little and are consumed by acquiring more. Others have far more than they could ever spend and are still convinced they need more.

The issue is not usually the amount. The issue is the appetite.

That is what makes greed so difficult to identify in ourselves. We tend to define greed by looking at someone richer than we are. There is always somebody with a larger house, a larger retirement account, a larger business, or a larger lifestyle. By comparison, we can always find a way to feel moderate and reasonable.

In James 5, he warns people who have accumulated wealth while forgetting the God who provided it. His concern is not that they possess resources. His concern is that they have become possessed by them. Wealth has slowly shifted from being a tool to becoming a source of security, identity, and comfort.

One of the most helpful observations I ever heard on this subject came from Harry Reeder. He pointed out that Scripture never condemns money itself. It repeatedly warns us about what money promises.

Money promises security control, comfort, significance-

But those are things money cannot ultimately deliver.

For a season, it may appear to. The account grows, the house expands, the investments perform well, and life seems stable. But sooner or later we discover that financial security and actual security are not the same thing.

Jesus understood this when He warned about storing treasures on earth. He was not trying to make people feel guilty about possessions. He was exposing the false belief that possessions can satisfy the deepest needs of the human heart.

As I have thought about this chapter during our June Tune-Up, I keep returning to the idea of appetite. One of the reasons summer can be such a helpful time for reflection is that it allows us to step off the treadmill long enough to ask where we are running and why.

It is worth asking not only how much money is enough, but how much recognition is enough. How much success is enough? How much influence is enough? How much leisure is enough? How much accomplishment is enough?

The honest answer for many of us is that we do not know.

Calling gives us a different framework. Calling reminds us that everything we possess has been entrusted to us rather than permanently given to us. Time, abilities, opportunities, relationships, influence, and financial resources are all gifts placed in our hands for a season.

The question is not merely what we have accumulated. The question is what we are doing with what has been entrusted to us.

Perhaps that is why one of the most convicting questions in this chapter is also one of the simplest:

What does my spending say about my mission?

The older I get, the more convinced I become that contentment is not found by finally acquiring enough. It is found by recognizing that Christ is enough. Everything else is simply stewardship.

And stewardship always asks a different question than greed.

Greed asks, "What more can I get?"

Stewardship asks, "What should I do with what I already have?"

________

As I finish writing these thoughts, I find myself confronting a familiar temptation. Whenever I read a chapter like this, hear a sermon, or come across a particularly insightful quote, my first instinct is often to think of someone else who needs to hear it.

I suspect I am not alone in that.

It is remarkably easy to read about pride and think of a proud person. To read about greed and think of someone consumed by money. To read about envy and immediately picture another person's struggle.

The harder question is always the personal one. What about me? Do people really change?

Can old habits be replaced by new ones? Can selfishness give way to generosity? Can envy become gratitude? Can pride become humility? Can a restless heart learn contentment?

The Christian answer has always been yes—but usually much more slowly than we would prefer.

Real change rarely arrives through dramatic moments. More often it grows through small acts of faithfulness repeated over time. A different thought. A different response. A different conversation. A quiet act of generosity. A decision to pray rather than complain. A choice to be grateful rather than compare.

Perhaps that is part of what these June reflections are really about. Not merely thinking about calling, but creating enough margin to ask what one small adjustment God may be asking me to make today.

What thought needs correcting?

What habit needs attention?

What relationship needs investment?

What distraction needs to be put aside?

What truth needs to be believed again?

Those questions are rarely dramatic, but they are often where real growth begins.

And perhaps that is the hidden gift of a June Tune-Up. It gives us a chance to stop diagnosing everyone else and quietly ask the Lord what He wants to do in us.


Friday, June 19, 2026

Contentment- Day 19- June R&R

As I continued reading through
The Call, I found myself lingering over Guinness' discussion of envy. It is one of those sins that is easy to recognize in other people and much harder to identify in ourselves. Most of us would never describe ourselves as envious. We may admit frustration, disappointment, or even discouragement, but envy sounds ugly enough that we naturally assume it belongs to someone else.

What struck me in this chapter is that Guinness connects envy directly to calling. He observes that we are most vulnerable to envying people whose gifts, opportunities, and callings most closely resemble our own.

That makes perfect sense when you think about it.

Rarely do we spend time envying people whose lives are completely different from ours. The temptation usually comes from looking sideways at someone who is close enough to make us wonder, "Why them and not me?"

Years ago, when we lived in Nashville, we jokingly referred to parts of the music scene as "The Land of Music Snobs." It seemed as though musicians spent a lot of time criticizing one another and very little time complimenting each other. A friend of mine laughed and said, "I guess we hear every wrong note."

There is probably more truth in that statement than either of us realized at the time.

The same thing happens everywhere. Coaches critique coaches. Speakers critique speakers. Pastors critique pastors. We often become most aware of the strengths and successes of people who occupy the same lane we do.

And that is where envy quietly begins its work.

One of the things I appreciate about Scripture is its honesty. The Psalmist does not try to hide his struggle in Psalm 73:

"For I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked."

He does not pretend that envy was beneath him. He admits it.

What makes Psalm 73 so helpful is that the solution to envy is not found in trying harder to be thankful. The Psalmist's perspective changes when he begins looking at life from God's point of view rather than his own.

That same idea appears in Philippians 4, where Paul writes:

"I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content."

The older I get, the more fascinating that verse becomes.

Paul does not say contentment came naturally - He says he learned it.

And he learned it under circumstances most of us would consider undesirable. He writes those words from prison. If anyone had reason to compare his life with others, complain about unfair treatment, or question God's providence, it was Paul.

Instead, he speaks of contentment. Not complacency. Contentment.

Those two ideas are often confused.

Complacency says, "I have no desire to grow."

Contentment says, "I trust God with where I am while continuing to pursue where He wants me to go."

The distinction is important.

A content person can still work hard, set goals, pursue excellence, and seek improvement. In fact, some of the most content people I know are also some of the most diligent. The difference is that their joy is not dependent on achieving the next thing.

Their peace is not tied to comparison.

Their identity is not determined by whether they are ahead of or behind someone else.

That is freedom.

I think envy ultimately grows from a subtle suspicion that God has somehow been more generous to someone else than He has been to us. It causes us to focus on what we do not have rather than what we have been entrusted with.

Calling pulls us in the opposite direction.

Calling reminds us that God has assigned different gifts, different opportunities, different challenges, and different responsibilities to different people. My task is not to manage someone else's life or second-guess God's distribution plan. My task is to be faithful with what He has placed in my hands.

That sounds simple, but it is surprisingly difficult in a world built on comparison.

Perhaps that is one reason June can be such a valuable time for reflection. It gives us a chance to step off the treadmill and ask a few honest questions.

Am I grateful for the life God has given me?

Am I content with His provision?

Am I pursuing growth because I want to be faithful, or because I am trying to keep up with someone else?

And perhaps the most important question of all:

Would I still have joy if God never gave me what He gave someone else?

Paul says contentment can be learned.

That gives me hope.

Because contentment is not the result of having everything we want. It is the result of learning that Christ is enough, whether we have little or much, whether life unfolds exactly as planned or not.

That may be one of the greatest secrets of the Christian life.


Thursday, June 18, 2026

The Race Engine- Day 18- June R&R

As I moved into Chapter 14 of
The Call, I was surprised by the turn Guinness takes.

Up to this point, much of the book has focused on calling, vocation, stewardship, faithfulness, community, and purpose. Then, almost unexpectedly, he begins discussing the Seven Deadly Sins. Here I am reading a good book and it is taking a general "Christian" book path and then this slight turn became genius to me as the next few chapters took shape.

After all, once we begin asking questions about calling, we eventually have to ask another question. What keeps us from living it out? What is it that consistently pulls us off course? Why do we drift from the very things we know are good, true, and important?

Guinness begins with pride, and I think there is a reason for that. Pride is not merely one sin among many. Historically, it has often been viewed as the root beneath the others.

What makes pride so dangerous is that it rarely presents itself as a villain.

Most of us picture pride as arrogance. We imagine a loud, boastful person who constantly talks about themselves and lets everyone know how important they are. Sometimes pride looks like that, but more often it is much more sophisticated.

It has different names that contain issues in small slivers:  ambition.insecurity. the need to be right. the need to be noticed. t can even disguise itself as service.

One of the observations Guinness includes comes from Bernard Mandeville, who wrote:

"Pride and vanity have built more hospitals than all the virtues together."

That statement bothered me when I first encountered it. Years ago, I often argued that Christianity could be validated by looking at hospitals, orphanages, ministries, and charitable works that had been built by people of faith. Mandeville's comment forced me to think more carefully.

A lot of things have been built with good intentions, but the donor also wants their name on the building….

If pride simply made people lazy, we would identify it immediately. Instead, pride often creates tremendous energy. It can drive people to work harder, sacrifice more, stay later, compete longer, and accomplish impressive things.

The older I get, the more I recognize that tendency in myself.

Put something in front of me that benefits me, elevates me, rewards me, or increases my influence, and I can find enormous reserves of energy. My flesh is surprisingly resourceful when there is something in it for me.

That is why I think of pride as a race engine.

A race engine produces incredible power. It accelerates quickly. It creates excitement. It can outperform ordinary engines for a season. The problem is that race engines are not built for ordinary roads. They burn through fuel, require constant maintenance, and eventually break down under the stress they create.

Pride works much the same way.

It can power a life for a long time. It can fuel achievement, success, recognition, and accomplishment. But eventually it demands more fuel. More recognition. More affirmation. More success. More applause.

And the moment those things begin disappearing, the engine starts sputtering.

One of the things I have always appreciated about Nick Saban is that he understood human nature. He knew that most eighteen-year-old football players were not driven primarily by noble ideals. They wanted playing time, championships, recognition, and opportunities. Rather than trying to eliminate those desires, he redirected them.

His basic message was simple: if you commit yourself to the team, the process, discipline, and sacrifice, you will ultimately get more of what you want than if you simply pursue your own agenda.

He said it this way- ‘you create value for yourself’- and in the end, it works.

That is brilliant coaching but the gospel, however, takes us somewhere deeper.

Christianity is not merely trying to redirect selfish ambition into more productive channels. God is slowly teaching us to love different things altogether.

That is why Jesus speaks about self-denial.

That is why John the Baptist says:

"He must increase, but I must decrease." (John 3:30)

That is why Paul writes:

"I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." (Gal 2:20)

Those verses sounded strange to me when I was younger. They felt almost mystical. Now I think they describe a lifelong process. God is patiently teaching us to move from self-centeredness to Christ-centeredness.

One of the stories Guinness tells involves Sir Stafford Cripps. Winston Churchill once remarked that Cripps (strong Presbyterian, strict moralist),  was the most difficult man in England to get along with. His only bad habit was cigars and when Cripps announced he was giving them up as a sacrifice for the war, Churchhill quipped “Too bad, that was his last contact with humanity”.

A 2nd quip was in the same vein- one day after Cripps left the cabinet room Churchhill told the others-

"There but for the grace of God goes God."

We have to be very careful- we can become very high horse in even good causes- in these days, I know a lot of people who have a very high opinion of their opinion! ( And some are even proud enough to blog about them :) ).

The strange thing is that humility creates a freedom that pride never can.

A humble person can celebrate another person's success without feeling diminished.

A humble person can receive criticism without falling apart.

A humble person can serve without constantly needing recognition.

A humble person can admit mistakes without constructing elaborate defenses.

As I think about this June Tune-Up, I find myself wondering how much of our exhaustion comes from running on the wrong fuel. Many of us are tired because pride is expensive. It requires constant feeding. It never stays satisfied.

Humility, on the other hand, grows slowly. It develops through disappointments, corrections, failures, relationships, and years of learning that God is God and we are not.

That process is not nearly as dramatic as a race engine.

But it tends to carry people much farther.

And perhaps that is why God seems far more interested in building character than building resumes. The first deadly sin is not simply a moral problem. It is often the very thing that keeps us from becoming the people God is calling us to be.

Song Links:

Proud of My Humility

Attitude of Gratitude



Wednesday, June 17, 2026

The Side Check- Day 17- June R&R

As I continue reading through
The Call, I find myself thinking about something that has probably caused more discouragement, frustration, envy, pride, and unhappiness than we care to admit.

When we were in high school, we called it 'Side Check"- and it mostly happened in the weight room- technically, it is checking out your biceps in a mirror- but it became more as that look at yourself in the mirror for that validation that manhood was definitely becoming real.

now- here is the kicker- when we 'caught' someone doing a side check- looking at their biceps- we ripped them. One of our friends was so bad about always looking at himself in the mirror- we called him 'side-check'- yes- high school can be so cruel!

The 'side check' seems harmless enough. In fact, it often happens so naturally that we don't even notice it. But over time, it can quietly steal both our contentment and our focus. It is a combination of self comparison, others comparison, and a fight to be as high as we can on the pecking order in life.

One of the things I have observed in schools, churches, athletic programs, and organizations over the years is that most conflict is not caused by major philosophical disagreements. Most of the time it begins with people really needed to be validated... noticed... recognized- and we are wanting it TOO much and we give it out TOO little or we give it out with the wrong standards of validation.

Years ago I received two phone calls from football coaches in our lower grades within about twenty minutes of each other.

The first coach called and informed me that he was prepared to resign unless I immediately dismissed another coach on the staff. I listened carefully and tried to understand the problem. When we finally got to the bottom of it, there really wasn't a major issue beyond the fact that he simply felt disrespected and his ideas were never considered.

About five minutes after hanging up, the second coach called.

He wanted me to fire the first coach. At that point I knew we had a problem.

As I listened to both men, it became obvious that this wasn't really about football. We want to be not only accepted but respected. No one wants to be ignored.

It was about two people who had become focused on each other instead of the mission.

I got them together and we ‘made it’ through a tension filled season. Only to see both of them go after that, but at least it gave me time to find adequate help in a more reasonable time table.

That seems to happen more often than we realize.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that self absorption is one of the great enemies of calling. The moment I become preoccupied with how elevated I am among my peers, I usually lose sight of what we are trying to accomplish. It is slightly different than selfishness... it is more subtle and deeper. If I don't matter to you then I am not going to work with you.

Now this cuts both ways, we can go around a room a size everyone up and we value those we esteem and could not care less about those 'below' us. It is part of our default nature- higher order thinking- compare and contrast- but it is a gateway to hurt and sin.

C.S. Lewis touches on this idea in a way that may be different in his intention. In God in the Dock, he describes a cantankerous old woman who is a Christian and compares her to a pleasant and likeable man who is not. Lewis points out that we really have no way of knowing what raw materials God started with in either life. The woman may be far more transformed than we realize. The pleasant fellow may be much less transformed than he appears.

We do not know enough to make the comparisons we constantly make. We should esteem everyone made in the image of God and what GOD says about someone is more important than what we think AND what He says about ME is more important than what I think.

As a young girl, missionary Amy Carmichael desperately wanted blue eyes. She prayed again and again, asking God to change her brown eyes, but the answer always seemed to be no. Years later, while serving in India and rescuing children from dangerous situations, Amy often dressed like the local people to avoid drawing attention to herself. She then realized that her brown eyes helped her blend in, while blue eyes would have made her stand out immediately. Looking back, she understood that God had answered her childhood prayer in a better way than she could have imagined. What seemed like an unanswered prayer was actually part of God's preparation for the work He had planned for her life.

And yet we build entire narratives based on incomplete information.

Social media has only amplified this problem. We are constantly exposed to carefully selected highlights from other people's lives. Vacations, promotions, achievements, celebrations, and successes stream across our screens every day. If we are not careful, we begin evaluating our ordinary Tuesday against someone else's highlight reel.

That never ends well- the 'side check' can create two opposite problems.

Sometimes we look sideways and become envious.

Sometimes we look sideways and become prideful.

Neither response is healthy. Both pull us away from gratitude and contentment.

and it totally confuses calling- our mission is only about ME?

One of my favorite moments in the Gospel of John occurs after Jesus restores Peter. After speaking to Peter about his future, Peter immediately points toward John and asks:

"Lord, what about this man?"

I love Jesus' answer.

In modern language, it essentially amounts to:

"What is that to you? You follow me."

God has never asked me to manage someone else's calling. He has asked me to be faithful with what He has entrusted to me. And His request- We Love Him and we Love others.

As part of this June Tune-Up, it may be worth asking where the side check has crept into our thinking.

Perhaps one of the healthiest spiritual disciplines is simply learning to keep our eyes on Christ and our hands on the work He has given us to do. Esteem others and let God validate us.


1 Peter 5:6- Humble yourselves under God's strong hand, and in his own good time he will lift you up.

I used to think that meant we would finally get 'recognition' and now I don't believe that. He will lift us up to keep working in anonymity. And we don't care, because all we need to hear is his encouragement.

Starting tomorrow, Os Guinness takes a dramatic turn in “The Call” where he begins outlining the 7 Deadly Sins and how they can up-end or confuse calling… I remember when I first read the book how stunning it was to read starting with Chapter 14. What had been a pretty interesting read up to that point, became elevated to years of interaction and memories…. Here we go!


Tuesday, June 16, 2026

The Freedom of Thinking Less About Yourself- Day 16- June R&R

As I have continued reading through
The Call, I noticed that Guinness begins moving in a slightly different direction. Up to this point, much of the discussion has centered around calling, purpose, vocation, community, and faithfulness. 

I’m going on a 2 day holding pattern before we jump into Ch 14 of ‘The Call’ for a little prep on the turn Guinness takes in his book.

The following is a VERY difficult topic- so please bear with me!

Several years ago I came across a statement that has stayed with me ever since:

"Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less."

Most people attribute that quote to C. S. Lewis, and whether he actually said it or not, the idea is deeply biblical.

In our culture, especially in the South- we don't do humility very well. I call it the "Aww shucks" humilty

"Aww shucks, we ain't going to be very good this year."

"Aww shucks, don't brag on that boy, it'll just give him the big head."

For a long time I misunderstood humility. I thought humility meant putting myself down, minimizing accomplishments, or pretending that strengths did not exist. I have since come to believe that this isn't humility at all. In some cases, it is simply another form of self-absorption.

A person can spend just as much time thinking about how terrible they are as another person spends thinking about how wonderful they are. In both cases, self remains at the center of attention.

Biblical humility is different.

Paul writes in Romans 12:3:

"For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment..."

I have always appreciated that phrase "sober judgment."

The older I get, the more freedom I find in that.

I am who I am because God made me, knows me, chose me, and loves me. There are things I do reasonably well. There are plenty of things I do poorly. Some strengths have served me throughout my life, and some weaknesses continue to humble me on a regular basis.

The good news is that I no longer have to spend quite so much energy trying to prove myself.

Looking back, I can see how much of life is driven by comparison. Schools compare. Athletes compare. Coaches compare. Have you ever heard this quote?

"Comparison is the thief of joy"

This is attributed to Theodore Roosevelt (although there is no definitive evidence that he ever said or wrote those exact words). Regardless of its origin, the quote carries a powerful truth: constantly measuring our lives against those of others can rob us of contentment and gratitude. When we focus on what others have achieved, possessed, or experienced, we often lose sight of our own blessings and accomplishments. True joy is found not in competing with others, but in appreciating our unique journey, embracing our gifts, and being thankful for what we have been given.

And that compare and compete model is exhausting!

There is always someone more talented. Someone more successful- more influential.

Someone with a better story, a better opportunity, a better platform, or a better season of life.

If our peace depends on winning those comparisons, we are going to live frustrated.

Paul counters:

"Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else." (Galatians 6:4)

Peter writes:

Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” (1 Peter 5:5 ESV)

That verse has become more meaningful to me over the years because I have learned that humility is not primarily about lowering yourself. It is about placing yourself properly under God.

If I allow God to be the highest- I am free to celebrate another person's success- I receive correction without collapsing. I can serve without needing recognition.I can tell the truth without worrying excessively about public approval.

None of that comes naturally AND certainly doesn't come naturally to me.

An example I have seen of humility came from a teacher who would regularly cover responsibilities for other faculty members when they forgot an assignment. What impressed me was not the act itself but the fact that nobody ever knew about it. There was no announcement. No complaint. No subtle reminder later. The need simply got handled.

Now- I have to be careful here- was that teacher PROUD of dong that? Did they hold resentment or a sense of superiority for doing that? Were they questioning whether too much help may be actually a type of co-dependence and more harm than good? Did they feel humble enougb to have a conversation in love with that other teacher to make sure she didn't carry any resentment or guilt? See how subtle and complicated humility/pride is!

Real humility is - there is something I can do to serve - glad to do it- and want no recognition... it is what we do. And if it becomes a pattern, maybe a conversation about it- "Hey are you OK?- I have noticed... I don't mind- I surely have my issues- please understand I love you- how can I help? Just tell me what you think! I'm OK- you would do the same for me!"- and be truthful about it ALL.

That kind of quiet service has always impressed me more than public displays of importance.

The same is true when I think about people who receive criticism well. I have watched teachers, coaches, and leaders respond to unfair criticism with patience and grace. It is not weakness. It is strength under control. They cared more about understanding and serving than about protecting their ego.

In storms of criticism and controversy- false humility can evaporate- There is a great example in the Bible regarding David.

David, the shepherd-king of Israel, faced such a storm during one of the most painful seasons of his life. In 2 Samuel 16, as David fled from his son Absalom's rebellion, a man named Shimei hurled stones at him, both literal and figurative. Shimei accused David of being a man of blood and blamed him for the downfall of Saul's house. It was unjust. It was cruel. But David’s response was nothing short of remarkable.

When David’s warrior, Abishai, offered to kill Shimei, David stopped him, saying:

"Let him curse, because the Lord has said to him, 'Curse David.' Who then shall say, 'Why have you done so?'" (2 Samuel 16:10)


David chose not to fight back. Instead, he acknowledged that perhaps Shimei’s words, though painful, were part of God’s plan. He saw his suffering through the lens of humility and divine sovereignty.

David’s response challenges us to take a posture of humility when stones are thrown our way. This doesn’t mean that every criticism or attack is justified, but it does mean recognizing that even opposition can be used by God to refine us. Sometimes, the rain of adversity is meant to wash away our pride, our need for control, or our false sense of righteousness.

Like David, we can ask:

What is God teaching me through this?

Is there a truth hidden in the criticism that I need to hear?

Can I trust God to be my defender instead of taking matters into my own hands?


There’s another layer to David’s humility—he doesn’t deny his own faults. David had made terrible mistakes, including his sin with Bathsheba and the murder of Uriah. While Shimei’s accusations were not entirely accurate, David might have felt that some of the stones he faced were a natural consequence of his past actions.

In the same way, we often face storms of our own making. A harsh word spoken in anger comes back to haunt us. A decision made in selfishness leads to relational fallout. In those moments, we can do what David did: accept the rain, confess our shortcomings, and trust in God's mercy to bring restoration.

David’s hope in the middle of his humiliation is striking. He said:

"It may be that the Lord will look on the wrong done to me, and that the Lord will repay me with good for his cursing today." (2 Samuel 16:12)

David trusted that God saw his affliction and would act on his behalf in His own time. This trust allowed David to endure the stones without losing heart.

We, too, can find hope in the storm. God sees. God knows. And God promises that, for those who trust Him, even the worst storms will ultimately work for good (Romans 8:28).

When opposition comes your way—whether it's criticism, betrayal, or the natural consequences of your own failures—take a moment to pause. Instead of reacting in anger or despair, try adopting David’s posture:

Receive the rain with humility. 

Meekness is not weakness.

Ask God what He wants to teach you.

Trust that He sees your affliction and will bring good from it.

Don't compare yourself to others.

And when people say good things, don't say "Aww shucks, I ain't no good ma'am" say "Thank you, that means a lot, and to be honest God deserves the glory and the credit."

And this all comes from a result of letting God increase and letting you decrease- John 3:30


Song Links:

Compared to What?

Proud of My Humility

Let Them Throw Stones


Monday, June 15, 2026

The Call to Community- Day 15- June R&R

Note:
Where I am in the book, The Call is thoughts that come out of chapter 12/13. Thoughts about the struggles we have living in a community of people… who are sinners… like me.

As I continue reading  I find myself spending quite a bit of time thinking about community and relationships. Guinness makes the observation that the call of Jesus is personal but not purely individual, and that simple statement hit me differently this time than it did when I first read the book.

I spent a lot of years assuming I was fairly "extroverted".

But then the truth came out more than a few years ago- one of my daughters looked across the dinner table during a family meal and said, "Dad, we all know you're a highly functioning introvert." Everybody laughed. Including me.

But as is often the case, there was probably more truth in the statement than I wanted to admit.

The funny thing is that if you had known me in middle school or high school, you might have come to a completely different conclusion. I was in plays. I enjoyed being around people. I liked making people laugh. I was usually comfortable speaking in front of groups and never had much trouble stepping into leadership roles.

Looking back, I think some of that was being the oldest child and some of it was simply learning how to function in the environments God placed me in.

But somewhere along the way, probably beginning in my late teens and continuing through college and adulthood, I started noticing something else. I kept drifting inside my brain.

Not lonely. Just alone. - Those are very different things.

Some people hear the word solitude and immediately think of isolation or sadness. That has rarely been my experience. Some of my favorite moments have involved a book, a journal, a fishing rod, a long walk, or simply sitting quietly thinking about life. And the Holy Spirit communes with me there.

Even writing these devotionals is a product of solitude. The problem, however, is that every strength has a shadow side.

Solitude is a wonderful place to think, pray, read, write, and reflect. It is also a wonderful place to become self-absorbed if you're not careful.

One of the reasons I hesitate even writing about this is because I don't want to accidentally glorify withdrawal. Jesus withdrew frequently, but He withdrew to pray. My own retreats into solitude have not always been nearly that noble.

Sometimes they have simply been easier. People are hard. But when you get away from them they become even harder and to them you are just weird.

And if you're wired the way I am, there is always a temptation to retreat into a private world where everything feels more manageable.

The older I get, however, the more I realize how much of God's work in my life has happened through other people. My wife has certainly shaped me. My children have shaped me. Where would I be without them!

Friends, coaches, pastors, teachers, co-workers, and even difficult people have shaped me.

In fact, when I think about the most important lessons I have learned, very few came from sitting alone in a room. Most came through relationships. Sure, I get away and reflect... this helps me to withdraw the marrow from the encounters so to speak- but without human interaction, there is less to evaluate and you lose out on opportunities to learn and grow.

That may be why Guinness spends so much time emphasizing that calling is never merely individual. God certainly calls us personally, but He almost always works out that calling in the context of families, churches, friendships, schools, teams, and communities.

I suppose that shouldn't surprise us. One of the first things God says in Scripture is, "It is not good for man to be alone."

That was true before the Fall, which means loneliness and isolation are not merely consequences of sin. We were created for fellowship from the beginning.

I still enjoy my "turtle days." I suspect I always will. There are times when I need quiet in order to think clearly. But I have also learned that if I stay in that shell too long, I begin to lose perspective.

The truth is that I need people far more than I admit.

And one of the gifts of growing older is realizing that dependence is not weakness. It is simply part of how God designed us.

Maybe that is part of what Guinness is getting at in this chapter. Calling is not something we discover and carry out by ourselves. God places us in communities not because they are efficient or easy, but because they are one of the primary ways He shapes us.

Our culture does very little to encourage community- Satan rages against it- he wants us to hate our neighbor, not spend time with them. He wants to sow conspiracy, and misunderstanding.... God wants us together in groups as individuals (there is a really big distinction here- not a mass amount of people under the rule of an authoritarian, living like robots... NO- God wants us to engage in groups, learn together, activate individual gifts, and even disagree with understanding- a true body of unity and not unanimity- Unity is not thinking alike; it is working together despite not thinking alike.)

As I think about this June Tune-Up, I find myself grateful for the people God has placed in my life. Some have encouraged me. Some have challenged me. Some have frustrated me. Most have done all three.

And even though I disappear at times to heal up and think- at some point I need to re-engage with others. I am very bad at being a Lone Ranger.

And confessing these realities is also a path to healing and restoration. This is Day 15- are you re-discovering 'normal' yet? Get around a few others and just laugh. Not everything has to be serious! It's ok even to laugh at yourself- you don't have to judge every flaw.