Skimming Off The Surface

A farmer went out to scatter seed. As he was scattering seed, some fell on the path, and birds came and ate it. Whenever people hear the word about the kingdom and don’t understand it, the evil one comes and carries off what was planted in their hearts. This is the seed that was sown on the path.  Matthew 13: 3-4, 19 

Christ, the Sower, scatters heaven’s seeds in men’s hearts through the words of scripture.  The seeds are powerful and highly reproductive.  If they are planted in the right kind of soil, they will bear fruit.  But their fruitfulness depends on the kind of soil the seeds encounter.

When someone traveled through the countryside in Jesus’ time, they maneuvered through fields of crops. To prevent damage to their harvests, farmers created footpaths along the border of each field. Consider what happened when many feet traveled those paths. They became well-worn, hardened, almost like concrete. When a farmer, carrying a bag of seeds at planting time, scattered them in the air, some would inadvertently land onto these hardened footpaths. The likelihood of those seeds taking root, let alone germinating, was extremely low.

Jesus wants us to comprehend the state of human hearts. Unbelievers often possess hardened hearts, where the Gospel’s seeds bounce off, unable to penetrate due to spiritual blindness. Yet even among believers, hard hearts can exist. The Word skims the surface of many hearts without taking root because there is a heart of stone.  The Word arrives but feels too threatening to embrace. 

What can soften hardened soil? God seeks to transform my heart of stone into one of flesh—one that feels deeply, beats passionately, grieves sincerely, and celebrates joyfully. As stated in Jeremiah 23:29, “Is not my Word like fire, declares the Lord, and like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces?” If I suffer from a hard heart, two things will soften it.  The Word of God and my willingness to allow God to dismantle the walls that I have built over time.  God’s approach is gentle and gradual. He leads me step by step, understanding the reasons I protect myself. 

He will construct a beautiful bridge of trust, using just the right words to inspire the courage I need to let Him in. Recognizing that I have a hard heart is the crucial beginning.  Choosing to trust Him is my next action step.

Lord, I can know so much scripture and yet be so unaffected by it.  I bring my calcified heart to You.  Gentle Healer, come and find me. Amen

Parable of the Soils

A farmer went out to sow his seed. Matthew 13:3

For many years, this parable has resonated with me deeply, particularly the concept of different soil types. I’ve become almost fixated on the fourth type and I find myself yearning for its fertile conditions. We’re going to take a week to look this parable. It’s too rich to rush through it.

Jesus shared this parable with a gathering in Judea. As He spoke, they sat on a hillside, likely observing farmers sowing seeds, surrounded by the lush fields that embrace the Sea of Galilee. Jesus masterfully crafted His message by weaving it into relatable experiences. While they watched the seeds being scattered, He would reference their surroundings before drawing parallels to kingdom life.

Because of my life’s story, I am often skeptical of Jesus’ words. I stumble over His unconventional methods. It’s as if the seed falls onto unyielding soil. What must happen for poor soil to be transformed into a pristine growing environment? That’s the stuff of what’s coming in the next few devotionals.

I close my eyes and envision what happens when God’s Word falls in nutrient-rich, aerated soil. I see it unfold in slow motion. As the seed touches the ground, life surges within, and then the process of growth begins. Seeds burst forth, and the moist conditions nurture their beginnings. In time, I envision myself becoming the tree in Psalm 1 – spiritually vibrant, branches cascading over the riverbank. My roots are anchored deeply in Christ, making it second nature for me to bear fruit rather than laboring for it. Bad storms will come and go, they will bend my branches, but no matter the ferocity of the wind, the tree will stand tall. What God plants, nothing can destroy. 

You are my Gardener, my Husbandman. Assess the soil of my heart. Amen

Religion and Old Wineskins

No one pours new wine into old wineskins; otherwise the skins burst and the wine is spilled out and the skins are destroyed.  Matthew 9:17

Don’t mix the old with the new.  That was the message Jesus wanted to convey in this passage. 

Wine, when poured into a wineskin, begins the aging process. As it ferments, the gases cause it to expand. A new wineskin will swell, and everything will be fine. However, when you pour new wine into an old wineskin, the wineskin has already stretched to its limit and may burst during fermentation. The skin can’t handle any new pressure. So, what is the allegorical meaning?

When Jesus arrived, people assumed that everything He was teaching (new wine) was to be added to their traditions (the old wineskin). But His message was clear that He came to change everything. They were instructed not to combine the old with the new.

Let me personalize it. If I’m a religious person and then encounter Jesus and am born again into God’s family, am I supposed to add Jesus to my previous religious practices? No way. I’ve been rescued from religion and all the trappings. 

When the Gospel brings with it a new paradigm, it turns my life upside down.  The old wineskin of past paradigms must be abandoned.  I called to turn away from anything associated with old religious archetypes. 

Old wineskins suffocate the dynamic Spirit of Christ. They can’t contain the fresh, transformative power that bursts forth from true faith.  Embracing new life in Christ invites us to seek vessels that blend reverence for our history but that nurtures a faith that expands and evolves.

If I have attached You to something that should be dead to me, show me.  Amen

Keeping The Wrong Company

When they went across the lake, the disciples forgot to take bread.  “Be careful,” Jesus said to them.  “Be on your guard against the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.”  Matthew 16:5

From a baker’s viewpoint, there’s a simple message about yeast: a small amount can make a big difference. Just half a teaspoon can change an entire loaf of bread. The same principle applies spiritually—Jesus warns us that spiritual yeast can be harmful. Therefore, we should be mindful of the company we keep, as our relationships can significantly impact our spiritual journey.

The disciples, however, missed the point. They thought Jesus was referring to physical matters instead of spiritual ones. He tried to hint that He was talking about the Pharisees and Sadducees, warning that spending time with them could expose them to the spiritual dangers they represented. 

Pharisees were quick to judge others based on how closely they resembled them, believing they were the only ones favored by God. They made no room for diversity; if you were Gentile, you were excluded from worshiping God. This mindset feels all too familiar today. Fundamentalist thinking often causes people to see their own denomination as the only valid one. Protestants might view any Catholic as an unbeliever, while Catholics consider Protestants separated brethren, separated from the fullness of faith and the sacraments. Baptists may see Presbyterians as misguided, just as Presbyterians might find the Baptist culture unappealing. It’s troubling how we categorize people based on differences instead of unifying around the core tenets of the Gospel. 

I’ve traveled to Canada many times over the years. I saw firsthand that denominations collaborate closely because Christianity is a shrinking minority in their country. They recognize that without coming together, spreading the Gospel effectively is a challenge. I was so encouraged by their example.  

What about your church? Is there a sense of exclusivity? Do they speak poorly of those outside your denominational group?  Be careful of such influences. We each need to guard against spiritual arrogance.  We are bent that way in our flesh, and we must starve the beast.  To hang around with spiritual elitists is to endanger our hearts with the most dangerous sort of spiritual yeast.  

Make spiritual arrogance repulsive to me. In Jesus name, Amen

Separating Spiritual Abuse From Doctrine

Jesus said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house, who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.” Matthew 13:52

Every child of God has a unique history in their faith journey. Some come to Jesus with a blank slate, having no prior experience with Christianity. Their hearts are open and ready for God to write a story that’s uniquely theirs. It’s a beautiful beginning, free from preconceived notions. Others, however, bring years of church experience with them. They know the scriptures inside and out, having been well indoctrinated in many teachings. Yet, if their past has been marred by rigid legalism, it can feel tempting to wipe the slate clean and start fresh with Jesus. But is that truly necessary?  

In this simple parable, Jesus shows us the beauty of blending the old with the new. He reminds us that while teachers may be flawed, the truths they share can still be sound. These truths are treasures worth holding onto. As we grow in our faith, it’s vital to separate the gold from the grime—to appreciate the wisdom that remains while letting go of what doesn’t serve us anymore.  Maturity in faith is all about recognizing these truths and allowing God to guide us in discerning what is beneficial. 

God is always with us, guiding us to let go of the teachings that hinder our growth while keeping the gems that enrich our journey. So, whether you’re starting fresh or carrying years of church experience, remember that each of us has a unique path—we should embrace it and feed it voraciously, letting the Holy Spirit guide us into all Truth.

And finally, as we navigate this journey, we can maintain a calm and relaxed mindset, allowing ourselves the space to grow and learn without the pressure of perfectionism.

If there is more of the old I need to embrace, reveal it.  If there is more I am to discard, I am willing.  Be the sifter, Lord Jesus. Amen

It’s Not My Vineyard!

“There was a householder who planted a vineyard, and set a hedge around it, and dug a wine press in it, and built a tower, and let it out to tenants, and went into another country. When the season of fruit drew near, he sent his servants to the tenants, to get his fruit; and the tenants took his servants and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other servants, more than the first; and they did the same to them. Afterward he sent his son to them, saying, `They will respect my son.’ But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, `This is the heir; come, let us kill him and have his inheritance.’ And they took him and cast him out of the vineyard, and killed him. When therefore the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” They said to him, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and let out the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the fruits in their seasons.” Jesus said to them, “Have you never read in the scriptures: `The very stone which the builders rejected has become the head of the corner; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes’? Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a nation producing the fruits of it.” Matthew 21:33-46

Those who heard Jesus share this parable understood it well. The hills of Galilee were full of vineyards, and it was common for owners to lease their estates to tenants. Although the Pharisees grasped the illustration, they felt offended by Jesus’ implication. They saw it as prophetic and a direct warning, because they knew that God regarded the Jewish nation as the ‘vineyard of the Lord.’ Isaiah 5:7

The message from Jesus was clear. You are not aligned with God’s plans. Although you believe you are acting effectively as religious leaders, you are wrong. You are mistreating faithful servants, and furthermore, you are rejecting me, the very son of the Vineyard owner. 

Jesus has graciously entrusted His kingdom to us to steward in His absence. Before leaving, He demonstrated how to tend it properly. His leadership approach is rooted in service, prioritizing relationships over rituals, and heart over intellect. Is it possible, however, that we are behaving like Pharisees?  

In Jesus’ absence, I’m given the freedom in Christ to run the vineyard any way I want.  The tenants in the parable could abuse, even kill, servants.  When the ‘son’ came, the one with ownership rights to the vineyard, they took his life because he threatened what they wanted for themselves.

As I govern my sphere of influence today, I am compelled by Christ to prioritize the heart over intellect, grace over performance, and relationship over religion. The Son is returning and will one day evaluate how well I cared for His sheep. Will the harvest look like what it might have been if Jesus had stayed to oversee it? That’s humbling to consider. 

How does this apply to me?  I will be quiet and be teachable, as Your Holy Spirit brings this home.  Amen

There’s a Better Way To Open The Door

“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’ “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”  Luke 10:25-37

Each of us knows that we are called to love others. This is easy to accept when it is vague, but we often convince ourselves that we’re excused from showing love to certain people. We’re eager to share Jesus with those we believe deserve it. Jonah was willing to speak difficult truths to the people of Israel, but when God told him to go to the Ninevites, he simply couldn’t stomach the idea. The Ninevites were a bloodthirsty people and had long inflicted cruelty on God’s people. Jonah’s heart had its limits, but they weren’t God’s.

For the Jews during Jesus’ time, enemies were no longer Assyrians but Samaritans. Although ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’ was one of the laws in the Old Testament, they only saw ‘neighbor’ as including people of their own nationality and religion. It was for this very reason that the following conversation happened. 

A Jewish teacher of the law approached Jesus and asked, “Which of the commandments is the most important?” Jesus answered, ‘Love God with all your heart, soul, and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.’ The seeker was insightful enough to ask the next question, ‘Who is my neighbor?’ Jesus could have directly answered, ‘Well, a Samaritan is your neighbor!’ But sometimes the truth is so threatening that someone needs to discover it on their own through a non-threatening approach. What a wise teacher Jesus is. He avoids giving a sermon and instead brings truth in through the gentle persuasion of the Jewish teacher’s heart.

Are you facing a tough conversation with someone today? You might feel nervous because the truth could seem too threatening if stated outright. However, the truth needs to be uncovered and embraced. Following Jesus’ example, a series of thought-provoking questions might be the way for something spiritual to unfold. The Holy Spirit promises to provide wisdom, and He will fill your mouth with words beyond your own ingenuity.  

Lord, I ask that You show me who my Samaritans are.  Forgive my prejudices, Lord.  Amen

With Disgust Or Sadness?

He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”  Luke 18:9-14

It is easy to read this parable and identify with the tax collector, imagining myself as a humble seeker of mercy. The temptation to look down on others—those with different struggles, faults, or outward appearances—is never far away—the lines between humility and subtle arrogance blur.

This parable holds up a mirror, reflecting not only the overt pride of the Pharisee but also the quiet ways I can distance myself from those I judge. It is not just the act of being proud that is rebuked, but the act of comparing others to my own standards and withholding compassion from them.

While I would describe both of my parents as generally humble, they had moments of pride. Whenever they saw people not doing what they believed they should, comments would be made.  

“Wouldn’t you think they’d clean up their yard?  It’s disgusting.”

“Why can’t they control their children?  It’s embarrassing!”

I am struck by how often the word ‘disgust’ came up in their words and how often it can come up in mine. My attitude toward another’s weakness should be sadness, not disgust. Sadness over another’s sin prompts me to pray for them, while disgust tempts me to distance myself.  

Pride is insidious. When you think it’s gone, you realize you can still be proud about thinking it’s gone. When disgust arises, I need to remember… ‘There but for the grace of God go I.’

When I believe I’m justified in deciding who should receive mercy and who should be judged, convict me, Father.  Amen

Will We Understand The Stories?

Jesus spoke all these things to the crowd in parables.  Matthew 13:34

I love a good story, especially if shared by an exceptional storyteller. Jesus must have been a powerful storyteller because we are still talking about each of his stories thousands of years later.

Many of his stories were parables, and He spoke in this literary form to fulfill prophecy.  “I will open my mouth in parables; I will utter things hidden since the foundation of the world.”  Matthew 13:35  In this passage, Jesus reaches back to Psalm 78.  Israel had strayed from Yahweh ~ even though He’d rescued them repeatedly from their enemies.  Their unbelief was unfounded because he had spoken openly to them, displaying His power with signs and wonders, only to be rejected. 

Many centuries later, Jesus spoke in parables to bring judgment on Israel’s collective hardness of heart.  Only those who had a true relationship with Jesus would understand the meaning of the words.

Jesus also spoke in parables to fulfill another prophecy, this one from Isaiah.  “You will keep on hearing, but will not understand; and you will keep on seeing but will not perceive; for the heart of this people has become dull; and with their ears they scarcely hear, and they have closed their eyes…”  Matthew 13:14-15

What does that mean for us as we continue to immerse ourselves in the language of Jesus’ parables?  Isaiah would tell us that it’s possible for us to hear them but not understand them.  Unbelief skews the message and renders it impenetrable.

I’m praying for each of us during this study ~ that we will be more than hearers, but women of understanding. I want us to enjoy full disclosure.

If there is anything that will compromise my ability to understand Your stories, would you reveal it to me?  Amen

Anxiety and the Tug of War

“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money. “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Isn’t there more to life than food and more to the body than clothing? Look at the birds in the sky: They do not sow, or reap, or gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you more valuable than they are? And which of you by worrying can add even one hour to his life? Why do you worry about clothing? Think about how the flowers of the field grow; they do not work or spin.  Matthew 6:24-28

Have you ever been caught in the middle? It’s a terrible place to be. Some people are well-practiced because they’ve assumed the role of peacemaker as children. They’ve learned that the stress of trying to please both sides is crippling. Compromise helps temporarily, but neither side is ever truly satisfied because neither feels like they have won.

What does this have to do with what I’ll eat or what I’ll wear? It’s about worry and anxiety.  And anxiety serves Master Satan as we wonder if God will be faithful.  Satan is the author of such storylines.  Worry leads to autonomy as I take matters into my own hands to care for myself, believing that God might not come through for me. 

Remember the daisy game? ‘He loves me – He loves me not.’ Although it was childish, I still recall the suspense as I got to the last few petals. Which way would it go? Love me – or loves me not? This captures the tension of serving two masters.

When the stakes are high, so is the battle. How can this tug of war be won? Remove the influence of the evil one.  Nothing Satan says is true. He is a liar, and his default language is based on deceit. Today, I step out of the middle. When the first thought of worry comes, I will capture it and kill it at the root with the sword of the Word. 

No middle, Father.  No torment.  Only a simple, childlike trust built on every single promise You have made.  Amen