Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

What if the clearest evidence of Christ’s work in our lives isn’t what we can accomplish, but how Jesus is changing us? In 2 Corinthians 3, Paul points us toward a life written by the Spirit, lived in community, and transformed one degree of glory at a time.

Based on the sermon by James Swanson, Connection Church Sioux Falls, September 27, 2026.

From Veiled Hearts to Unveiled Lives

What if your life is already being read?

Not your resume. Not your accomplishments. Not your social media profile. Your actual life.

People see how you respond when plans fall apart. They notice how you speak about people who aren’t in the room. They see what happens when someone wrongs you, when you’re overlooked, when you fail, and when you have nothing left to prove.

The question isn’t whether people are reading your life. They are.

The question is what they’re reading.

Paul gives us a striking picture of this in 2 Corinthians 3. He tells the Corinthian believers that they’re a letter from Christ, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God on human hearts. [2 Corinthians 3:1-3]

The goal isn’t simply to become people who know more Bible verses, behave better, or appear more religious. The Spirit is doing something deeper. He’s changing who we are so that our lives increasingly point beyond ourselves to Jesus.

James points us to a letter of recommendation example which are meant to establish credibility. Someone applying for a position might ask another person to testify about their character, experience, or qualifications. The letter says, in effect, “You can trust this person.”

Paul turns that idea upside down.

He doesn’t need a traditional recommendation for the Corinthians because their transformed lives are evidence of God’s work through his ministry. Their lives are the letter.

But Paul is careful about whose letter they are.

They aren’t ultimately Paul’s letter. They’re “a letter from Christ,” written by the Spirit of the living God. [2 Corinthians 3:3]

Christian testimony is never ultimately about how impressive the Christian is. It’s about how faithful Christ is.

The strongest recommendation for the gospel isn’t a person who can convince everyone that they have everything together. It’s a person whose life increasingly shows what Jesus does with broken, sinful, ordinary people.

A changed life doesn’t say, “Look how good I am.”

It says, “Look what Jesus is doing.”

The World Behind the Text

Paul’s words come in the middle of a larger discussion about his ministry and the new covenant.

The Corinthian church was familiar with competing claims about authority and credibility. Paul responds by pointing away from credentials and toward transformed people. His confidence isn’t rooted in his own ability.

It comes from God.

Paul writes that his sufficiency is from God and that God has made him a minister of a new covenant, “not of the letter but of the Spirit.” [2 Corinthians 3:5-6]

Paul isn’t arguing that Scripture is bad, unnecessary, or something Christians should replace with vague spiritual impressions. The passage is contrasting the ministry of the old covenant, particularly the law written on stone, with the new covenant ministry of the Spirit.

The law reveals God’s holiness and exposes human sin. It shows us what righteousness looks like while also revealing our inability to produce that righteousness ourselves. As Paul explains elsewhere, the law brings knowledge of sin. [Romans 3:19-20]

The problem isn’t that God’s law is defective. The problem is that sinful human beings can’t transform their own hearts simply by being given commands.

The new covenant brings something greater. God doesn’t merely tell his people what righteousness looks like. Through the Spirit, he works within them.

The prophet Ezekiel anticipated this promise, describing God giving his people a new heart and putting his Spirit within them so that they would walk in his ways. [Ezekiel 36:26-27]

The gospel therefore isn’t simply an invitation to try harder.

It’s an announcement that God has acted in Christ and continues his transforming work through the Spirit.

Walking the Passage

The passage begins with living letters, but it eventually arrives at unveiled faces.

Paul moves from recommendation letters to the Spirit’s work in the heart, from the glory of Moses to the greater glory of the new covenant, and finally to the transformation of believers into the image of Christ. [2 Corinthians 3]

God writes.

We are read.

Christ is revealed.

And the Spirit transforms.

That means Christian growth can’t ultimately be reduced to behavior modification.

We can change behavior without changing our hearts.

We can look calm while remaining furious inside. We can serve while secretly craving recognition. We can know enormous amounts about Scripture while using that knowledge primarily to win arguments or make ourselves feel superior.

External behavior can be rearranged without the heart being surrendered to Christ.

The Spirit goes deeper.

He exposes pride, fear, envy, unbelief, resentment, and the places where we resist God’s authority. He doesn’t simply make us better at hiding those things. He brings them into the light so that we can turn to Jesus.

That’s why Paul can say that where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. [2 Corinthians 3:17]

Christian freedom isn’t freedom to become whatever we want.

It’s freedom from the condemnation and bondage of sin and freedom to live for Christ.

And that freedom is connected to transformation.

Paul says that believers are being transformed into the same image, “from one degree of glory to another.” [2 Corinthians 3:18]

One degree.

Then another.

Then another.

That‘s both encouraging and humbling.

We often want instant transformation. God frequently gives us faithful transformation.

A Fair Counter-Reading

There’s a danger in reading this passage as though every visible change in a Christian’s life is automatically proof of spiritual maturity.

People can perform religious behavior for many reasons. Fear, pride, reputation, social pressure, and the desire for approval can all produce outward conformity.

Likewise, a struggling Christian shouldn’t assume that difficulty, weakness, or slow growth means the Spirit is absent.

Paul’s picture isn’t of Christians who have arrived. It’s of people who are being transformed.

The emphasis falls on God’s work, not our performance.

The Christian life is therefore neither passive indifference nor frantic self improvement. It’s dependent participation in the work God is doing through Christ and by His Spirit.

We pray. We confess. We listen. We receive correction. We study Scripture. We gather with God’s people. We obey.

But we don’t manufacture spiritual life.

Our sufficiency is from God.

The Turn

The passage eventually asks us to look beneath our behavior and examine what might be covering our vision.

Paul uses the image of a veil. He describes people who can read the Scriptures while remaining unable to recognize their fulfillment in Christ. The veil is removed when a person turns to the Lord. [2 Corinthians 3:14-16]

What if the thing blocking our vision is pride?

What if it’s pain?

What if disappointment with God has quietly become a conviction that he’s absent or unloving?

What if resentment has made mercy feel impossible?

What if familiarity with the Bible has become so routine that we’ve forgotten to look for Christ in its pages?

None of these questions should be used to shame people who’re hurting. Pain is real, and Scripture doesn’t ask us to pretend otherwise. But pain can become a barrier when we allow suffering to define what we believe about God’s character.

Turning to Jesus means bringing those things into his presence.

Not hiding them.

Not polishing them.

Not pretending.

Bringing them.

Sometimes the first step is confession. Sometimes it’s forgiving someone. Sometimes it’s asking a trusted Christian for help. Sometimes it’s simply praying, “Lord, show me what I can’t see.”

The Spirit doesn’t free us by teaching us how to become self sufficient.

He frees us by teaching us to stop pretending that we are.

Carry It Into the Week

If our lives are living letters from Christ, then every ordinary interaction becomes an opportunity to display something about Jesus.

How do we speak when we’re stressed?

How do we treat people who have less authority than we do?

How do we respond when someone corrects us?

What happens when we’re ignored?

Do our relationships show forgiveness?

Do they show compassion?

Do they hold truth and grace together?

These questions are especially important because Christianity was never designed to be lived alone.

A living letter needs to be seen, read, and shared.

That’s part of why the local church is so important. Connection Church describes its Gospel Communities as places where believers live life together, extend grace, practice the “one anothers” of Scripture, study God’s Word, and apply the gospel to everyday life.

Community gives other people access to our lives, and that can be extremely uncomfortable.

We need people who know us well enough to ask difficult questions.

How’re you experiencing me in your life?

Where do you see Christ growing me?

Where do you see me resisting him?

Those questions can hurt.

They can also become instruments of grace.

The goal isn’t to become impressive Christians who’ve mastered religious behavior. The goal is to become people increasingly shaped by Jesus.

And that requires attention.

What gets most of your attention during the week will shape your thoughts, desires, and reactions. Constant outrage can make us harsher. Comparison can make us dissatisfied. Endless entertainment can dull spiritual hunger. Work can become an identity. Even Bible knowledge can become a substitute for knowing Christ if we’re not careful.

But there’s good news.

Transformation is promised.

Paul tells the Philippians that the God who began a good work in his people will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. [Philippians 1:6]

We’re not finished. Neither is God.

The Christian life is a process of becoming more like Jesus as we behold his glory and depend upon his Spirit. The destination isn’t merely improved behavior. It’s Christlikeness.

And one day, the process will be complete.

The veil will be gone.

Faith will become sight.

The One we’ve spent our lives learning to love will be seen face to face.

Until then, we keep turning toward Jesus.

We keep confessing.

We keep receiving correction.

We keep gathering with his people.

We keep opening Scripture to see Christ.

We keep depending on the Spirit.

And we keep becoming living letters.

Because someone is reading your life.

May what they read point them to Jesus.

Song of the Week: What Grace Can Do - Cochren & Co.

I had the pleasure of seeing this week’s Song of the Week performed live at LifeLight this summer when Cochren & Co. graced the stage. But even beyond the experience of hearing it live, “What Grace Can Do” has become one of my favorite songs of the year.

The song immediately calls me back to one of the most beautiful pictures of grace we find in Scripture with the parable of the prodigal son.

The son had wandered. He’d taken what he thought he wanted and left his father behind. He found himself broken, empty, and eventually realized that home was where he needed to be. So he turned around and headed back.

But what happened when the father saw him?

Luke 15:20 says, “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.”

He ran.

The father didn’t stand on the porch with his arms crossed waiting for his son to crawl back and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t make him prove that he was sorry enough. He didn’t demand that he clean himself up before coming home. When he saw his son returning, he ran to him.

That’s the picture of grace.

And that’s what makes the Gospel so beautiful.

We can sometimes convince ourselves that we’ve wandered too far. Maybe we’ve made too many mistakes. Maybe we’ve spent too much time running from God. Maybe we’ve believed the lie that we need to get our lives together before we can come to Jesus.

But the Gospel tells us something completely different.

Jesus doesn’t wait for us to become perfect before He saves us. We can’t become perfect on our own. That’s why we need Him.

Romans 5:8 says, “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

While we were still sinners.

Not after we’d cleaned ourselves up. Not after we’d fixed every mistake. Not after we’d become the people we thought God wanted us to be.

While we were still sinners.

Jesus came for us.

The grace we receive through Christ isn’t something we earn. It’s something freely given because of what Jesus accomplished through His death and resurrection. His sacrifice was sufficient. His blood washes us clean. His work on the cross was once for all.

Hebrews 10:10 says, “And by that will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.”

Once for all.

That phrase is easy to read and move past, but stop and think about it. Jesus didn’t partially pay for our sins. He didn’t make salvation possible if we could somehow finish the job ourselves. He gave Himself completely.

That’s grace.

And honestly, I couldn’t explain what that grace looks like much better than Cochren & Co. already does. The final refrain of “What Grace Can Do” says it all:

“The broken find their breakthrough.
The old is made brand new.
The hurting find their healing.
That’s what grace can do.
Make a heart of stone start beating.
Raise you right up out that tomb.
Make a saint out of a sinner.
That’s what grace can do.”

That’s the Gospel.

Grace takes what’s broken and restores it. Grace takes what’s old and makes it new. Grace brings life where there was death. Grace softens hearts that have become hardened. Grace doesn’t simply make us feel better about who we were. Through Christ, grace makes us new.

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

Maybe you’re reading this and you’ve been walking with Jesus for years. Maybe you’re in a season where you feel closer to Him than ever. Or maybe you’ve never truly turned toward Him at all.

Wherever you are, the invitation is the same.

Come home.

It doesn’t matter how far you’ve drifted. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve failed. It doesn’t matter how broken you think you are. And it doesn’t matter if this is the first time you’ve ever genuinely turned toward God.

Jesus is still there.

And when you turn toward Him, you don’t find a Savior standing at a distance waiting for you to prove yourself worthy. You find a Savior who gave His life for you.

The Father runs.

That’s what grace can do.

And it can do that for you too.

Turn to Jesus. Trust in Him. Lay down the things you’ve been carrying and come home.

He’s waiting, and He will come running.

Week in Reflection

With Gospel Community in full swing, I want to take this week’s reflection to simply thank God for the community He’s placed in front of me.

What started as a weekly gathering has become so much more than that. This group has become family. We don’t simply show up once a week, talk about what we’ve been learning, and then go our separate ways. We’re doing life together. We celebrate the highs together, walk through the lows together, pray for one another, encourage one another, and challenge one another to continue growing in our walks with Christ.

One of the things that encourages me the most is seeing the growth and vulnerability within our group. There’s something powerful about being able to sit around a room with other believers and be honest about where we are. We don’t have to pretend that everything is perfect. We can talk about our struggles, our victories, our questions, our failures, and the ways God is working in our lives. That kind of vulnerability creates an environment where real discipleship can happen.

Scripture reminds us of the importance of this kind of community. Hebrews 10:24-25 says, “And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together.” That’s exactly what I’m seeing in my Gospel Community. We’re not simply meeting because it’s something on the church calendar. We’re meeting because we need each another.

I’m incredibly thankful that God has given me this community. There’ve been plenty of seasons in my life where I tried to walk through things on my own, and I’ve learned that God didn’t design us to live that way. He gives us His church, His people, to walk alongside us.

So if you’re reading this and you aren’t currently connected to a Bible study or Gospel Community within your local church, I would strongly encourage you to get involved. Take the step. Show up. Be willing to be vulnerable. Let people into your life, and allow yourself to walk alongside others as they walk with Christ.

I truly believe it can change your life. More importantly, it can help you see more clearly how God is working through His people.

I’m so thankful for this family God has placed in my life, and I pray that I never take it for granted.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

The gospel doesn’t merely confront sin. It restores sinners, binds a church together, and turns weakness into a place where the power of Christ becomes visible.

Based on the sermon by Jonathan Land, Connection Church Sioux Falls, September 20, 2026.

When “Enough” Is an Act of Grace

There’s a moment in 2 Corinthians 2 when Paul essentially says, “Enough.”

Not enough in the sense of giving up. Not enough in the sense of pretending nothing happened. And certainly not enough in the sense of minimizing sin.

Enough because the discipline had accomplished what it was intended to accomplish.

A member of the Corinthian church had apparently been confronted over serious sin and had experienced the consequences of the church’s response. Paul doesn’t give us enough information to identify the person with certainty, and perhaps that’s intentional. The identity of the offender doesn’t matter but what happens next does.

Paul tells the church to forgive him, comfort him, and reaffirm its love for him. The church had confronted sin. Now it was time to restore a sinner.

We often know how to confront. We can also be remarkably good at holding someone’s failure over their head long after they’ve repented but the gospel calls us to something harder.

It calls us to take sin seriously enough to confront it and grace seriously enough to forgive it.

Paul’s concern isn’t revenge. It’s restoration.

The World Behind the Text

Corinth was a city marked by wealth, influence, image, and moral permissiveness. Paul’s relationship with the church was already strained after the conflicts addressed in 1 Corinthians.

He’d confronted the church about its resemblance to the surrounding culture. The response wasn’t immediately humble or teachable. The relationship became more complicated, Paul made another visit, and eventually he wrote a severe letter.

Now, in 2 Corinthians, we see something that can feel surprising.

The apostle who confronted them is also the apostle pleading with them to forgive. Biblical correction is never supposed to become an excuse for vengeance.

Jesus gives the church a framework for confronting sin in Matthew 18:15–20. The goal begins with winning a brother or sister back. The process can become increasingly corporate when someone refuses to listen, but even treating someone as an unbeliever isn’t presented as a declaration that they’re beyond grace. It’s an invitation to once again hear and respond to the gospel.

In Corinth, Paul is showing what happens when that process reaches its intended destination.

Repentance changes what comes next. The punishment has been enough.

Now comes forgiveness. Now comes comfort. Now comes restoration.

The church isn’t merely a collection of individuals trying to stay out of each other’s way. Sin affects the body, which means restoration also affects the body. Paul says the person’s actions caused pain not simply to him but, in some measure, to the whole church.

The gospel creates a people whose lives are bound together.

Walking the Passage

Paul’s language in 2 Corinthians 2:6–8 is remarkably direct.

The punishment’s been enough. The next step is forgiveness and comfort. Paul even urges the church to reaffirm its love for the repentant person.

Why?

Because discipline was never the destination. Restoration was.

Imagine someone you love walking directly into dangerous traffic. At first, you warn them. If they continue, you raise your voice. If they still refuse to stop, you might physically restrain them, or in Jonathan’s example, tackle them.

They may not experience that physical action as loving in the moment. But love isn’t measured only by how an action feels to the person receiving it.

Sometimes love restrains.

Sometimes love says, “Stop.”

Sometimes love is willing to be misunderstood because it cares more about the person’s ultimate good than their immediate approval.

That’s the picture Paul is giving us.

But there’s another danger.

What happens when the person stops? What happens when they repent?

The answer. You let go.

You don’t keep tackling them after they’ve turned around.

Paul’s command isn’t simply to forgive. It’s to comfort and reaffirm love so that the repentant person isn’t overwhelmed by excessive sorrow.

This's where the gospel confronts both permissiveness and judgmentalism.

One temptation says, “Love means never confronting sin.”

The other says, “Justice means never letting someone forget what they did.”

The gospel says something different.

Sin is serious. Grace is serious too.

The cross tells us both.

At the cross, God’s judgment against sin isn’t minimized. At the resurrection, God’s restorative power isn’t minimized either.

The gospel doesn’t ask us to choose between holiness and mercy.

It gives us both.

A Fair Counter-Reading

There are legitimate reasons to be cautious whenever church discipline is discussed.

Churches can misuse authority. Leaders can confuse personal preference with biblical conviction. Discipline can become humiliating rather than restorative. People who’ve been wounded by spiritual authority may understandably hear language about submission and correction differently than someone who’s experienced healthy Christian community.

The sermon itself acknowledges that there are many ways this principle could be abused.

So the answer isn’t to pretend those dangers don’t exist.

The answer is to keep restoration as the governing purpose.

If discipline becomes vengeance, it’s lost its gospel shape.

If tolerance becomes indifference toward someone’s spiritual destruction, it’s also lost its gospel shape.

The Christian community needs both the courage to confront and the humility to forgive.

Neither should be separated from love.

The Turn

Then Paul changes the image.

He moves from discipline and restoration to fragrance.

He describes God leading believers in Christ in triumphal procession and spreading “the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere” (2 Corinthians 2:14, ESV).

Jonathan explained that the image comes from the world of Roman triumphs, where a victorious general would be honored in a public procession. Paul takes that familiar cultural image and applies it to Christ.

But there’s something deeply different about this victory.

The Christian apostle doesn’t present himself as the impressive hero.

Paul’s ministry is filled with weakness.

His heart’s been broken over the Corinthians. He’s experienced anguish and tears. Even when God opens a door for ministry in Troas, Paul admits that his spirit wasn’t at rest because Titus was absent.

This’s not Paul’s resume. It’s almost an anti-resume.

Yet Paul can still say, “But thanks be to God.” The power of God is displayed through weakness.

That’s not a side note in 2 Corinthians. It becomes one of the book’s defining themes.

Jesus himself is the ultimate picture.

His triumph didn’t look like worldly triumph.

The crown was made of thorns. The victory came through a cross.

The apparent defeat became the place of resurrection victory.

Paul’s weakness therefore doesn’t mean God’s abandoned him. His restlessness doesn’t mean the ministry was meaningless. His insufficiency doesn’t mean he was disqualified.

It means he was never the source of the power in the first place.

That leads directly into Paul’s question, “Who is sufficient for these things?” (2 Corinthians 2:16, ESV).

The answer isn’t Paul.

The answer isn’t us.

The answer is Christ.

Paul describes those who proclaim the gospel as people who speak with sincerity, as commissioned by God, in the sight of God, and in Christ. Their sufficiency is received rather than manufactured.

Christian faithfulness doesn’t begin with convincing ourselves that we’re enough.

It begins with admitting that we’re not.

And then looking to the One who is.

That isn’t weakness disguised as confidence.

It’s confidence rooted somewhere other than ourselves.

The gospel doesn’t merely confront sin. It creates a path back from it.

Paul then gives us one of Scripture’s most visceral pictures of the gospel.

We’re the aroma of Christ.

To some, the fragrance is life. To others, it’s death.

The gospel doesn’t leave us neutral.

Christ’s victory over sin, death, and hell demands a response. The same message that smells like life to one person can smell like death to another.

And perhaps that’s why Paul’s question about sufficiency comes at exactly the right moment.

Who could possibly carry a message with consequences like these?

Not someone relying on charisma.

Not someone relying on reputation.

Not someone relying on personal strength.

Christ is sufficient.

Carry It Into the Week

There’re several ways this passage presses beyond Sunday morning.

First, take sin seriously enough to confront it.

Love doesn’t mean watching someone walk toward destruction and deciding that saying something would be uncomfortable. Sometimes the loving thing is to speak.

Second, take repentance seriously enough to forgive.

If someone has genuinely turned from sin, our job isn’t to create a permanent sentence after God has provided restoration. Paul says, “you should rather turn to forgive and comfort him” (2 Corinthians 2:7, ESV).

Third, refuse to make someone else’s failure the organizing principle of your relationship with them.

Paul doesn’t deny the injury. He refuses to let the injury become the center of the church’s identity. The wound can be acknowledged without becoming the foundation upon which everything else is built.

Fourth, remember that weakness isn’t evidence of uselessness.

Maybe you’re exhausted.

Maybe you followed God faithfully and still feel restless.

Maybe you did what you were supposed to do and are disappointed by how little you feel like you accomplished.

Paul gives us permission to admit those things without concluding that God is absent.

The question isn’t, “Am I sufficient?”

The better question is, “Who is?”

And the answer remains Christ.

Finally, ask what kind of fragrance your life carries.

Not whether everyone likes you.

Not whether everyone agrees with you.

Not whether your Christian life looks impressive.

Does your life point people toward Jesus?

Does your community smell like grace?

Does it take sin seriously without becoming vindictive?

Does it extend forgiveness without redefining holiness?

Does weakness become an opportunity for people to see the sufficiency of Christ?

Those’re harder questions than simply asking whether we’re successful.

They’re also more faithful to Paul’s vision.

The gospel isn’t ours to improve upon.

It’s ours to receive, live, proclaim, and embody.

And sometimes the most gospel shaped thing a church can say isn’t merely, “Stop.”

Sometimes it’s also, “Enough. You‘ve repented. Come back. You’re loved.”

Song of the Week:

This week, unfortunately, I ran out of time to reflect and share a Song of the Week. I apologize to those of you who look forward to that part of Faith in Focus series. I know it’s become a small but meaningful part of these posts, and I appreciate everyone who takes the time to read along each week.

With the time I had available, though, I felt that the sermon reflection and the reflection on the week itself needed to take priority. Rather than rushing through the Song of the Week just to check the box, I would rather give the other parts of this reflection the attention and thought they deserve.

One of the lessons I continue to learn is that sometimes we have to recognize our limitations and be willing to adjust our plans. Not everything has to fit into one week, and taking the time to focus on what matters most isn’t necessarily a failure. Sometimes it’s simply good stewardship of the time God has given us.

So, if you were looking forward to this week’s song, I sincerely apologize. Give me a little grace this week, and Lord willing, the Song of the Week will return next week!

Until then, thank you for continuing to read, reflect, and walk through these weeks with me. I’m grateful you’re here.

Week in Reflection

This week, God has shown up in more ways than I could have imagined. He allowed me to be approved for a photography opportunity for one of my favorite bands of all time, and through that opportunity, I connected with other photographers who have already opened doors for future possibilities. It’s also been an amazing week for engagement on my photography pages.

I’m incredibly grateful for all of it, but I also know I need to keep God first. None of this is possible without Him. The talent, opportunities, relationships, and platform are all blessings He has given me. If I’m not careful, something that’s a blessing can quickly become an idol. I never want photography, opportunities, recognition, or numbers to become more important to me than the God who gave them to me.

But the best part of the entire week happened before the concert.

I was sitting at a restaurant near my hotel when my sweatshirt, which says that if someone needs prayer they can tap me on the shoulder, finally worked. For the first time, someone actually did.

A man named Calvin began sharing with me about what was going on in his life, particularly what he was dealing with involving his nephews. As he talked, I listened, and then I had the opportunity to pray for him.

I can’t fully describe what that moment felt like. I could feel the Holy Spirit working through me as I prayed. Here I was, sitting in a crowded restaurant, praying with a complete stranger, and God had created the opportunity without me having to force it.

That moment wasn’t lost on me.

I know this kind of freedom isn’t the reality for many followers of Jesus around the world. Some believers face real persecution simply for openly living out their faith. So I’m incredibly grateful to live somewhere that allows me to pray for someone in public without fear of persecution or hostility.

It also reminded me that ministry doesn’t always happen inside a church building. Sometimes God gives us a stage. Sometimes He gives us a camera. Sometimes He gives us a restaurant table and a stranger who needs someone to listen.

Colossians 4:5-6 says, “Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt.”

That’s what I want to remember. I want my photography to point back to God. I want my opportunities to point back to God. And when God puts someone in front of me who needs prayer, I want to be willing to pray.

So if you’re wondering whether you should pray for someone in public, I want to encourage you. Pray.

Be wise. Be gracious. Listen. Love people well. But don’t let fear keep you from an opportunity God may be placing directly in front of you.

You never know who might tap you on the shoulder.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Relationships rarely stay simple. Plans change, people disappoint us, and silence leaves room for our imaginations to write the story. In 2 Corinthians 1:12 through 2:4, Paul shows us another way to live, one shaped by sincerity, grace, and the unshakable truth that every promise of God finds its yes in Jesus.

Based on the sermon by Jonathan Land, Connection Church Sioux Falls, September 13, 2026.

Fill the Gaps With Grace

Drama has a strange gravitational pull.

We may not watch soap operas anymore, but we haven’t outgrown the fascination with conflict. Social media gives us endless opportunities to watch relationships unravel. Clickbait promises us the latest controversy. Sports coverage can turn a game into a weeklong conversation about who said what, who’s frustrated, and who might be leaving.

We like the drama because human relationships matter to us.

The problem comes when we allow that fascination with drama to become the way we interpret our own relationships.

Someone doesn’t text back. Someone changes plans. A friend disappears for a few weeks. A church member misses a gathering. Someone says something that hurts us.

There’s a gap. And we fill it.

The question is what do we fill it with.

Paul’s relationship with the Corinthian church gives us a remarkably personal picture of what happens when relationships become complicated. His plans had changed. His absence had created questions. His critics had apparently used those changes as evidence that Paul couldn’t be trusted.

Paul could’ve simply defended himself.

Instead, he points them toward something bigger.

The World Behind the Text

Corinth was a bustling city with a reputation for moral permissiveness. Paul had planted a church there, and his first letter addressed serious problems within that community. Now, in the opening chapters of 2 Corinthians, we encounter the aftermath of difficult interactions between Paul and the people he loved.

Paul had apparently intended to visit Corinth, including a possible visit on the way to Macedonia and another on the return trip. Those plans didn’t happen. That gave his critics something to work with.

Was Paul unreliable? Was his yes really a no? Had his love for them changed?

The tension is real. Paul doesn’t pretend otherwise.

Yet the heart of his response isn’t ultimately about his travel itinerary. It’s about the character of God.

Paul writes that his conduct toward them was marked by “simplicity and godly sincerity” and not earthly wisdom but the grace of God. He then moves from his own changed plans to the faithfulness of God, declaring that “all the promises of God find their Yes in him” [2 Corinthians 1:12, 20 ESV].

Paul’s plans can change. God’s promises do not.

Walking the Passage

Paul begins with sincerity.

His conscience, he says, testifies that he behaved toward them with simplicity and godly sincerity. He’s not claiming sinless perfection. He’s explaining his motives. His desire toward the Corinthians has been shaped by grace rather than manipulation.

Sincerity isn’t the same thing as never being wrong. A clear conscience doesn’t mean a flawless record. Paul himself acknowledges that he could be misunderstood and that his plans had changed.

But he wants the Corinthians to understand something deeper.

“I am still for you.”

Even in conflict, Paul refuses to reduce the Corinthians to their worst moment.

He points them toward the future day of the Lord when, in Christ, they will be able to rejoice in one another. Their present conflict isn’t the final chapter.

That gives us a radically different way to approach difficult relationships. We can acknowledge what’s wrong without believing the relationship is therefore worthless.

We can confront sin without abandoning people.

We can experience disappointment without allowing disappointment to become the entire story.

Paul then addresses the changed plans directly. He’d wanted to visit. He’d intended to come to Corinth and then travel onward. Those plans didn’t happen.

But did a changed plan mean an unfaithful God?

No.

Paul grounds his explanation in God’s character. His own plans were subject to change, but the gospel he preached wasn’t. Jesus Christ was not “Yes and No,” but “in him it is always Yes” [2 Corinthians 1:19 ESV].

Then comes the center of the passage.

“All the promises of God find their Yes in him” [2 Corinthians 1:20 ESV].

Jesus is the fixed point when everything else moves.

Paul’s schedule moved. The Corinthians’ understanding moved. Circumstances moved.

But Christ didn’t.

God’s sovereignty doesn’t mean we stop making plans. It means we make plans while recognizing that we’re not sovereign.

We can commit. We can promise. We can prepare. We can work.

And then we can entrust the outcome to God.

Paul’s changed plans weren’t proof that God had changed His mind.

Sometimes a closed door is simply a closed door.

Sometimes an altered schedule is simply an altered schedule.

Sometimes our plans fail because we’re limited human beings.

None of those things require us to conclude that God has become unreliable.

A Fair Counter-Reading

There’s an important balance here.

“All the promises of God find their Yes in him” doesn’t mean we can use Jesus as an excuse for failing to keep our own promises.

If I tell someone I’ll do something and then fail to do it, I can’t simply respond by quoting 2 Corinthians 1:20 as though Jesus’ faithfulness excuses my lack of it.

Paul isn’t teaching Christians to become careless with their word.

The point is almost the opposite.

Because God is faithful, Christians have a foundation from which they can admit when they aren’t.

Our promises will always be approximations of God’s perfect faithfulness. We’ll sometimes misunderstand, forget, fail, or change course.

The gospel gives us the freedom to say, “I was wrong.”

It gives us room to apologize. It gives us courage to ask for forgiveness.

And it gives us hope that another person’s failure doesn’t have to become the defining feature of the relationship.

The Turn

Paul eventually tells the Corinthians why he didn’t come.

He says it was to spare them. He wasn’t trying to exercise control over their faith. He wanted to work with them for their joy and for their ability to stand firm in their faith. His earlier letter had come “out of much affliction and anguish of heart and with many tears,” not to cause pain but to demonstrate the abundance of his love [2 Corinthians 2:4 ESV].

This’s where the passage becomes more than an argument about Paul’s travel plans.

It becomes a picture of Christian community.

Paul’s love was willing to endure short term pain for another person’s long term good.

That is very different from consumer relationships.

A consumer asks, “What am I getting from this?”

The moment the answer becomes disappointing, the consumer moves on.

Christian community asks a different question.

“How can I love this person faithfully?”

That doesn’t mean tolerating abuse or ignoring appropriate boundaries. It doesn’t mean remaining in every relationship regardless of circumstances. It does mean refusing to treat people as disposable whenever relationships become inconvenient.

Paul’s relationship with Corinth had become painful.

He stayed invested.

And that kind of love requires some things our culture often discourages.

Patience.

Grace.

Commitment.

The ability to remain present when things are no longer easy.

Connection Church describes Gospel Community as a place where people extend and model grace to one another and practice the “one anothers” of Scripture. That vision fits naturally with Paul’s picture here. Gospel community can’t be built exclusively around people who’re easy to love. It’s formed when people learn to give and receive grace in the middle of ordinary human difficulty.

This brings us back to the gaps.

When someone is late, what story do we tell ourselves?

When someone doesn’t respond, what assumptions do we make?

When a friend disappears for a season, what fills the silence?

Paul’s challenge is simple enough to remember.

Fill the gaps with grace.

Not because everyone is secretly wonderful.

Not because conflict doesn’t matter.

Not because discernment is unnecessary.

But because the gospel has already told us something more fundamental about how God treats us.

There was once an eternal gap between sinful humanity and a holy God. God didn’t leave that gap empty.

He filled it with grace.

Carry It Into the Week

The first step is to examine the stories we tell ourselves.

When someone disappoints you, pause before assigning motives.

When someone doesn’t respond, resist the temptation to write the missing chapters yourself.

Ask, “What am I filling this gap with?”

Fear?

Resentment?

Suspicion?

Or grace?

Second, make plans.

Christian faith isn’t an excuse for passivity. We’re image bearers who have been entrusted with time, resources, relationships, gifts, and responsibilities.

Make the commitment. Have the conversation.

Serve the person. Keep the appointment.

Make the plan. Then hold it with open hands.

God alone gets every yes.

Third, remember what’s ultimate.

Paul’s ability to endure relational disappointment was rooted in something bigger than the relationship itself. His hope was anchored in Christ.

If another person has to be perfectly reliable for us to have peace, we’re asking a human being to provide something only God can provide.

People will disappoint us. We will disappoint people. But Jesus remains faithful.

The Holy Spirit is given as God’s guarantee, a sign of His continuing presence with His people [2 Corinthians 1:21-22 ESV].

That means our relationships can become places where grace is practiced rather than merely discussed.

We can forgive because we’ve been forgiven.

We can confess because Christ is sufficient.

We can apologize without defending ourselves.

We can remain committed without pretending everything is fine.

And when we fail, we can come back to the gospel again.

The final answer to all of this isn’t better relationship technique.

It’s Jesus.

The sermon eventually brought the passage to the Lord’s Supper, where the promise becomes tangible. On the night Jesus was betrayed, He gave His disciples the signs of His body and blood and commanded them to remember Him [1 Corinthians 11:23-26 ESV].

Even there, the theme is faithfulness in the middle of human failure.

The table was established on a night when Jesus knew His followers would fail Him.

Yet the promise remained. God’s yes remained. Jesus remained.

The invitation for the Christian is therefore not to pretend we’re better than we are. It’s to come honestly.

Where our motives are wrong, confess them.

Where our conscience is troubled, confess it.

Where sin has taken root, bring it into the light.

Where relationships are fractured, seek reconciliation where possible.

And where our own failures remind us that we can’t keep every promise perfectly, remember the One who can.

Jesus is enough.

The promises of God find their yes in Him.

And because they do, we can learn to fill the gaps with grace.

Not perfectly.

But faithfully.

Song of the Week: My Jesus - Anne Wilson

Anne Wilson has an anthem in “My Jesus” that I wish I would apply to more of my life. The song speaks directly to the realities we all face regarding burdens, shame, brokenness, mistakes, wrong turns, and the moments when we feel like we’ve wandered farther from God than we ever intended. But when I listen to the chorus, I hear something bigger than simply a response to difficult circumstances. I hear a call that can be brought into any circumstance and offered to anybody.

“Let me tell you ’bout my Jesus.”

What if that became more than just a lyric we sing? What if it became a way of living?

If you’re having a bad day, let me tell you about Jesus. If you’re having a good day, let me tell you about Jesus. If you’re celebrating a victory, let me tell you about Jesus. If you’re sitting in the middle of a defeat, let me tell you about Jesus. If you’re walking through a winter season where everything feels cold, dark, and lifeless, let me tell you about Jesus. And if you’re experiencing a summer season where everything seems to be going right, let me tell you about Jesus.

The circumstances may change, but the answer doesn’t.

That’s one of the things I love about the message of the Gospel. Jesus isn’t simply someone we need when life falls apart. He’s not an emergency contact that we call when we’ve exhausted every other option. He’s not reserved for the valley while we celebrate the mountain by ourselves. Jesus belongs in every part of our lives.

And I think that’s where I personally need to grow. It’s easy to talk about Jesus when I’m hurting. It’s easy to point to God when I need Him to rescue me from something. But what about when things are going well? What about when I’m enjoying a blessing, accomplishing a goal, or simply having a good day? Do I still point back to Jesus? Do I still give Him the glory? Do I still tell people about what He’s done?

The answer should be yes.

In fact, I have it on good authority that Jesus isn’t merely one way to change your life. He’s the only way to actually change your life. Jesus Himself said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (John 14:6, ESV). The Gospel isn’t simply an invitation to improve ourselves. It’s an invitation to be made new through Christ.

That means when someone walks into our lives carrying burdens, shame, brokenness, or regret, we don’t have to have the perfect words. We don’t have to fix them. We don’t have to pretend we understand everything they’re going through. But we can point them toward Jesus.

Maybe that person is walking through a winter right now. Tell them about Jesus.

Maybe they’re enjoying the summer of their life. Tell them about Jesus.

Maybe they’ve made a wrong turn and don’t know how to get back. Tell them about Jesus.

Maybe they’ve never heard the Gospel. Tell them about Jesus.

Maybe they’ve heard it a hundred times but have forgotten just how good the news really is. Tell them about Jesus.

Whatever season someone’s in, Jesus is still Jesus.

So my prayer is that the next time we find ourselves talking with someone who’s going through a season, we remember the simple message of this song. Whether their life feels like winter or summer, whether they’re celebrating or grieving, whether they’re carrying shame or experiencing freedom, I want our first instinct to be pointing them toward Christ.

Let me tell you about my Jesus.

And then let Jesus do what only He can do.

Let Him change their life.

Week in Reflection

This week was a reminder of the many blessings God has given me, both personally and more broadly through His creation. One of those blessings came in the form of much needed rain. While working from home, I had the opportunity to simply sit and watch it come down. Something so ordinary reminded me that God’s provision doesn’t always arrive in dramatic ways. Sometimes it looks like rain.

Personally, I was reminded of the blessing of my church community, the talents God has given me, and the opportunities He has allowed me to experience through photography. I’m so grateful for the shows I have already experienced and the memories I get to look back on, while also looking forward to the opportunities that may still be ahead. None of these things are something I want to take for granted.

James 1:17 reminds us that “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above” (ESV). That means my response to these blessings should ultimately point me back to the One who gave them to me. My photography, my church community, my opportunities, and my memories are all gifts, but none of them should become more important to me than God Himself.

And that leads to the prayer I want to carry with me.

It’s easy to praise God when life is full of blessings. It’s much harder to trust Him when those blessings disappear. What happens if the opportunities dry up? What happens if things I love are taken away? What happens if God says no to something I desperately want?

I pray that He would still be enough.

I can’t thank the Lord enough for what He’s provided me. But I also pray that my gratitude would never become dependent on what He provides. If God gives, He’s good. If He withholds, He’s still good. If He opens a door, He’s good. If He closes one, He’s still good.

The rain is a blessing, but God is greater than the rain. My photography is a blessing, but God is greater than photography. Every opportunity and every memory is a blessing, but God is greater than all of them.

If He gives me everything I hope for, He’s enough. And if He decides to take it all away, He’s still enough.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

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Sermon Reflection

Paul begins 2 Corinthians by refusing to separate suffering from comfort. God doesn’t promise to wait for our affliction to end before meeting us there. He comforts us in it, then uses what we have endured to become a source of comfort for someone else.

Based on the sermon by Jonathan Land, Connection Church Sioux Falls, September 6, 2026.

Comfort in the Middle of the Storm

There’s something striking about the way Paul begins 2 Corinthians.

After spending the summer walking through the Psalms, our church has returned to the Corinthian letters, beginning what Jonathan described as our next step into 2 Corinthians. Whether we call it the second letter to the Corinthians or acknowledge the possibility that Paul’s correspondence with Corinth was more extensive than the letters preserved in our Bibles, the canonical text in front of us begins with a remarkably personal subject of suffering.

More specifically, it begins with comfort.

In just eleven verses, Paul repeatedly returns to the language of comfort. The repetition is impossible to miss. He’s not offering the Corinthians a quick inspirational thought about getting through difficult circumstances. He’s establishing something much deeper about the character of God and the purpose of Christian community.

God is the God of all comfort.

And that comfort doesn’t necessarily arrive after the suffering. It meets us in the middle of it.

Our natural instinct is often to think of comfort as something that comes once the hard part is over.

We get through the diagnosis, then we can breathe.

We survive the breakup, then we can begin healing.

The financial crisis passes, then we can finally feel secure.

The grief becomes less sharp, then we can talk about it.

But Paul doesn’t describe God’s comfort that way.

He begins by blessing God as “the Father of mercies and God of all comfort” (2 Corinthians 1:3). Then he immediately explains what that comfort looks like. God “comforts us in all our affliction” (2 Corinthians 1:4).

Not after all our affliction. In all our affliction.

Christianity doesn’t promise that following Jesus will remove us from every painful circumstance. Scripture repeatedly presents suffering as part of life in a broken world and, in particular, part of the Christian experience. Jesus Himself told His disciples that they would have trouble in the world (John 16:33). Paul told Timothy that “all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2 Timothy 3:12).

The promise isn’t that Christians will avoid suffering. The promise is that suffering doesn’t mean God has abandoned us.

The World Behind the Text

Paul wasn’t writing these words from a comfortable distance.

The opening of the letter quickly becomes personal. In 2 Corinthians 1:8, Paul tells the Corinthians about an affliction he and his companions experienced in Asia. He says they were burdened beyond their strength and that they “despaired of life itself.”

That’s remarkably honest language.

Paul doesn’t sanitize his suffering for the sake of appearing spiritually impressive. He doesn’t pretend that faith means never feeling overwhelmed. He doesn’t turn his testimony into a story about how strong he was.

Instead, he tells the Corinthians that there was a point when he and those with him felt as though death itself had become their expectation.

And then Paul explains why God allowed him to reach the end of his own perceived strength.

“So that we would not rely on ourselves but on God who raises the dead” (2 Corinthians 1:9).

Self-reliance says, “I can handle this.” The gospel says, “I can’t, but God can.”

That doesn’t mean responsibility disappears. It doesn’t mean Christians should refuse practical help or pretend weakness is inherently virtuous. Paul himself asks the Corinthians to participate by praying for him (2 Corinthians 1:11).

Rather, Paul is dismantling the illusion that human strength is sufficient. There’re circumstances where our own strength simply runs out.

And sometimes that’s precisely where God teaches us where our hope actually belongs.

Walking the Passage

The movement of these eleven verses is beautiful.

God comforts Paul.

Paul is then equipped to comfort others. Those people endure their own suffering. Their endurance becomes connected to the suffering and comfort of the wider Christian community.

The pattern isn’t suffering for suffering’s sake. It’s suffering transformed by God’s presence into something that can serve another person.

Paul writes that God comforts us in affliction “so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction” (2 Corinthians 1:4).

Our suffering isn’t automatically meaningful simply because we suffer. But suffering placed into the hands of God is never beyond His ability to redeem.

The person who has sat in grief can sit with someone else in grief.

The person who has experienced failure can remind someone else that failure doesn’t have the final word.

The person who’s felt abandoned can recognize the loneliness in someone else’s eyes.

The person who has discovered that their own strength was insufficient can point another person toward the God who raises the dead.

This is where Christian comfort becomes more than encouragement.

It becomes ministry.

And this is why Paul can say in verse 6 that his affliction was “for your comfort and salvation.” His suffering wasn’t merely his private experience. God was working through it for the good of other believers.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Paul’s not saying that every painful event has an obvious explanation that we should immediately discover.

That can become a dangerous way of talking about suffering.

Someone experiencing grief doesn’t need another Christian confidently explaining why God caused it. Someone enduring trauma doesn’t need to hear that their pain happened so they could eventually help somebody else. There’re moments when faithful Christianity looks less like explaining suffering and more like sitting beside the person who is suffering.

Paul’s words also don’t mean that we should seek suffering because suffering automatically makes us spiritually mature.

The emphasis of the passage is elsewhere.

God is the source of comfort.

Christ is the means through whom comfort abounds.

And Christian community becomes one of the places where that comfort is carried from one person to another.

We don’t worship suffering.

We worship the God who meets His people in it.

The Turn

Perhaps the most challenging sentence in this opening section comes in verse 9.

Paul says his suffering happened so that he wouldn’t rely on himself but on God who raises the dead.

That’s a difficult lesson because self reliance often looks like strength.

Our culture celebrates independence. We’re taught to solve our own problems, keep our emotions contained, handle our business, and avoid becoming a burden to anyone else.

Some of that can be healthy.

But taken too far, self reliance becomes a refusal to receive grace. Grace, by definition, isn’t something we earn. It’s something we receive.

And Paul’s showing us that there’re moments when God allows us to reach the limits of ourselves so that we discover the limitless nature of Him.

The God Paul points us toward isn’t merely the God who makes difficult circumstances slightly more manageable.

He’s the God who raises the dead.

That’s where Christian hope ultimately rests.

Paul can say in verse 10 that God delivered them, that He will deliver them, and that their hope is set on Him for future deliverance.

Past deliverance becomes evidence of God’s faithfulness.

Present dependence becomes an act of worship.

Future hope becomes confidence in God’s character.

The Christian doesn’t have to pretend everything is fine.

The Christian can say, “I’m not fine, but God is faithful.”

Carry It Into the Week

There’s another layer to this passage that Jonathan connected to the larger body of Christ.

Paul doesn’t write as an isolated Christian talking to other isolated Christians.

He writes to a church.

The comfort of God moves through His people.

This is true of the universal Church, the worldwide body of believers united to Christ, and it’s true of the local church gathered in a particular place.

We need both.

The universal Church reminds us that God’s kingdom is larger than our congregation, our city, or our particular Christian tradition. There’re believers worshiping Jesus in places we‘ll never visit, enduring persecution we may never experience, translating Scripture into languages we’ll never speak, planting churches, raising children, caring for the poor, proclaiming the gospel, and praying for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom around the world.

But the local church is where much of that universal reality becomes tangible.

It’s where someone can actually sit beside you.

It’s where someone can notice when you’re hurting.

It’s where a meal can be delivered, a prayer can be offered, a phone call can be made, and a burden can be carried.

Connection Church describes its Gospel Communities as a place where people seek to live life together, extend grace, and comfort one another through difficult seasons.

That’s not a side project of Christianity.

It’s part of what Christianity looks like.

Hebrews 10:24-25 calls believers to consider how to stir one another toward love and good works and not neglect gathering together. Galatians 6:2 tells believers to bear one another’s burdens. Romans 12:15 calls us to rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.

Community isn’t optional in the kingdom of God.

We were never designed to follow Jesus completely alone.

That means joining a local church. It also means praying for the Church beyond our local congregation matters.

The two realities belong together.

We need the people sitting next to us on Sunday, and we need to remember that the kingdom of God extends far beyond the walls of our own church building.

And perhaps that’s one of the most beautiful things about Paul’s opening words.

The comfort he received wasn’t intended to stop with him.

It moved outward.

God comforted Paul.

Paul comforted the Corinthians.

The Corinthians endured.

Their endurance strengthened others.

And the cycle continued.

The suffering was real.

The comfort was real.

And neither existed in isolation.

Maybe the difficult season we’re walking through isn’t something God will simply erase from our story.

Maybe, in time, it becomes part of the story through which He teaches us dependence, deepens our compassion, and equips us to sit beside someone else who’s hurting.

We should be careful not to rush to explain someone’s pain.

But we can trust the God who meets His people in it.

Because Paul doesn’t point us toward ourselves. He points us toward the God who raises the dead.

And when our own strength runs out, that’s exactly where our hope needs to be.

Song of the Week: No Survivors - Jeremy Camp

A song title like “No Survivors” can make you think of several things, but Jeremy Camp’s song from 2024 points us to a very different kind of death. This isn’t about acts of violence or physical destruction. It’s about the spiritual death of the things within us that keep us from fully surrendering to Christ. The battle cry of the song, because we are in a spiritual war, resounds like we’re standing on a battlefield, “‘Cause if I’m gonna live, then there’s some things that need to die.”

That idea is deeply rooted in Scripture. Paul repeatedly reminds us that following Christ means putting our old selves to death. Romans 6:6 tells us that our old self was crucified with Christ so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. In 2 Corinthians 5:17, Paul tells us that anyone who’s in Christ is a new creation, because the old has passed away and the new has come. There’s a necessary connection between dying to who we once were and living as the people Christ has called us to be. We can’t cling tightly to our old life while simultaneously claiming the fullness of the new life Christ gives us.

Camp speaks into that struggle by calling out the things we often have the hardest time surrendering. Our ego, our pride, our control, and our desire to have life operate according to our own plans. Those things can be incredibly difficult to recognize because they don’t always look sinful on the surface. Sometimes our desire for control disguises itself as responsibility. Pride can look like confidence. Ego can look like self worth. But when those things become more important than obedience to God, they become idols of the heart.

That’s why the imagery of being open palmed before God is so powerful. When our hands are closed, we’re holding onto something. We’re saying, whether intentionally or not, “This belongs to me.” But when we open our hands, we acknowledge that everything we have ultimately belongs to God. Our plans, our ambitions, our relationships, our reputation, our comforts, and even our understanding of what comes next are things we have to be willing to place before Him.

There’re things in each of us that need to die if we’re going to live fully for Christ. The desire to be noticed needs to die. The need to always be right needs to die. The pride that refuses to admit weakness needs to die. The bitterness we continue to carry needs to die. The secret sins we protect need to die. The need to control every outcome needs to die. Not because God wants to destroy us, but because He wants to destroy the things that’re destroying us.

Jesus doesn’t call us to make ourselves slightly better versions of our old selves. He calls us to die to ourselves and follow Him. Galatians 2:20 captures this beautifully, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” That’s the goal. Less of me and more of Christ. Less of my control and more of His lordship. Less of my pride and more of His humility.

So perhaps “No Survivors” is a fitting battle cry for the Christian life. We should leave no survivors when it comes to the parts of our old nature that keep pulling us away from God. We should be willing to throw the garbage into the fire rather than continually dragging it back out. We should stop negotiating with the very things Christ is calling us to surrender.

The beautiful part is that death isn’t the end of the story. In Christ, death leads to life. What needs to die in us makes room for something new. As we surrender our pride, Christ produces humility. As we surrender control, we learn to trust. As we surrender our selfishness, we learn to love. As we surrender our old ways, we become increasingly transformed to the image of Christ.

The goal isn’t simply to have fewer bad things in our lives. The goal is to become more like Jesus.

So let the battle cry continue, “‘Cause if I’m gonna live, then there’s some things that need to die.” Let there be no survivors among the things that compete with Christ for the throne of our hearts. Open our hands. Empty ourselves of what doesn’t belong. Give God everything we’ve been trying to hold onto. And then trust Him to do what only He can do. Make all things new.

Week in Reflection

This week marked Labor Day weekend, which for many people means a usual three day weekend and one last opportunity to squeeze in some summer fun before the unofficial end of the season. But here in Sioux Falls, Labor Day weekend also means the annual LifeLight Christian festival. This year, I had the pleasure of covering the festival in a much more professional capacity, and experiencing it from behind a camera lens gave me an entirely different perspective. There’s something powerful about watching thousands of people gather together with one common purpose of worshiping Jesus.

And then, of course, there was the rain. A lot of it. Weather has a funny way of exposing how committed we really are to our plans. It would have been easy to let the rain become the story of the day, but instead, worship persisted. The weather could interrupt a set, change the schedule, or make the ground muddy, but it couldn’t stop people from worshiping. From behind the lens, I was able to capture moments of worship happening in less than ideal circumstances, and honestly, those moments may have been some of the most meaningful to photograph. It was a reminder that worship isn’t dependent on perfect circumstances. We don’t worship because everything is going according to plan. We worship because God is worthy regardless of what’s happening around us.

That lesson seems especially fitting as we transition from summer into fall. Life is constantly moving into different seasons, and each season brings its own challenges, opportunities, and rhythms. Sometimes we want to hold onto the comfortable seasons, while other times we’re eager for something new. But God remains faithful through all of them. Whether the sun is shining or the rain is falling, whether things are busy or quiet, He remains worthy of our worship.

This week also marked the beginning of the Fall semester for our Gospel Community. I’ve been pretty vocal about my belief that these long summer breaks can be detrimental to us spiritually. I also understand why they happen, and I absolutely acknowledge the need for our leaders to have time to rest and recharge. Serving people isn’t something we can sustain indefinitely without rest. Even Jesus withdrew from the crowds and made time for solitude. Rest is good and necessary.

At the same time, there’s something special about the consistency of gathering together every week. Community is built through repetition. Relationships deepen when we continue showing up for one another. We can’t expect deep spiritual community if we only gather when it’s convenient. There’s something about sitting around the same table, opening God’s Word together, praying together, laughing together, and walking through life together that can’t be replicated through occasional gatherings.

So while I’m grateful that our leaders had the opportunity to rest over the summer, I’m also incredibly excited that we’re back. A new semester feels like a fresh opportunity. We’ve no idea exactly what God has planned for our group over the coming months, but that’s part of the excitement. I want to see people grow. I want to see deeper relationships formed. I want to see people become more comfortable sharing their struggles and pointing one another back toward Christ. Most importantly, I want to see God use our little community for His purposes.

LifeLight reminded me that worship doesn’t stop because the circumstances become inconvenient. The return of our Gospel Community reminds me that following Jesus was never meant to be a solo endeavor. We need both a heart that continues to worship regardless of the weather and a community that continues to show up for one another regardless of the season.

As fall begins, I’m excited to see what God does. The summer break is over. The gathering begins again. And whatever this next season brings, my prayer is that we enter it with open hands, willing hearts, and our eyes fixed on Christ.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Revelation 21 doesn’t give Christians an escape plan from this world. It gives us a vision of where history is headed. God dwelling with his people, creation restored, chaos defeated, and everything made new. If that’s where we’re going, it should change what we do with today.

Based on the sermon by Jonathan Land, Connection Church Sioux Falls, August 30, 2026.

The End Is Already Changing How We Live

There’s something strange about preaching the end of the world to people who’re still trying to figure out what to do with Tuesday.

We have bills to pay, dishes to wash, jobs to work, relationships to navigate, church ministries to serve in, and schedules that seem to fill themselves faster than we can empty them. The future can feel distant when the present is this demanding.

Yet as we transition from our Summer in the Psalms and prepare to return to our walk through Corinthians, Jonathan Land took us somewhere that, at first glance, seems like a strange detour.

He took us to the end.

More specifically, Revelation 21.

The reason’s simple. If we know where the story ends, it should change how we live today.

Jonathan described Revelation 21 as part of our churches DNA, one of the convictions that should shape who we are as a church. That language makes sense because Revelation 21 isn’t merely a picture of what happens someday. It’s a picture of what Christians are ultimately living toward.

John sees a new heaven and a new earth. He sees the New Jerusalem coming down from heaven. Most importantly, he hears the announcement that God will dwell with his people. Revelation 21:1-5 makes the destination unmistakable: death, mourning, crying, and pain don’t get the final word. God does.

This is where the end begins to transform the present.

Christian hope isn’t wishful thinking about escaping everything that’s difficult. It’s confidence that Jesus Christ will ultimately make all things new. The resurrection of Jesus isn’t an isolated miracle disconnected from the future. It’s the firstfruits of the resurrection we’re promised, and the guarantee that death itself will eventually be defeated. See 1 Corinthians 15:20-26.

The end tells us what our present suffering is moving toward.

The World Behind the Text

Revelation 21 also feels remarkably familiar if we remember where the Bible started.

Genesis opens with creation, a garden, a river, the tree of life, and humanity living in the presence of God. Genesis 3 introduces sin, death, exile, and separation. Revelation closes the biblical story by bringing several of those images back into view. Revelation 21 introduces the restored creation, and Revelation 22 brings back the river and tree of life.

The Bible doesn’t end by abandoning creation. It ends with creation renewed.

There’s another detail in Revelation 21 that immediately caught my attention, “the sea was no more” (Revelation 21:1).

The sea carries different meanings throughout Scripture, so we should be careful not to reduce every reference to one symbolic definition. Yet in Revelation, the sea is repeatedly associated with imagery of threat, turmoil, and opposition to God. One scholarly treatment of Revelation’s use of the sea notes that it functions in the book as an image associated with chaos and evil, culminating in its removal in Revelation 21:1.

That makes the image powerful. The unknown is gone.

The uncontrollable is gone. The threat is gone.

Not because humanity finally figured out how to control everything, but because God has brought his creation under his perfect rule.

Walking the Passage

Perhaps the most important statement in the chapter comes from the one seated on the throne, “Behold, I am making all things new” (Revelation 21:5).

Jonathan emphasized the significance of “I am.” Not simply “I will.” God isn’t describing a distant possibility that He might eventually get around to accomplishing. He’s the God who’s making all things new.

There’s a small interpretive distinction worth making here. The ESV actually reads “I am making,” which presents God’s action as active and certain, but the verse doesn’t mean that the complete renewal described in Revelation 21 has already arrived. Revelation itself still points forward to the consummation of God’s work.

The promise is future, but the God making the promise is already at work.

And that includes us.

Revelation 21:24 speaks about the nations walking by the light of the New Jerusalem. Revelation 21:26 says that the glory and honor of the nations will be brought into it. Revelation 22:2 speaks of the healing of the nations.

For those of us who are Gentiles, there’s something breathtaking here. We’re not an afterthought in the story of redemption. God’s promises to Abraham always anticipated blessing reaching the nations, and the New Testament repeatedly identifies the gospel as extending to Jew and Gentile alike. See Genesis 12:1-3; Galatians 3:7-9; Ephesians 2:11-22.

So yes, there’s something deeply encouraging about realizing that the people of South Dakota aren’t somehow outside the scope of God’s redemptive plan.

The gospel crossed oceans, languages, cultures, and centuries to reach people who never could have claimed Abraham’s ancestry.

Christ has made a way for the nations to come home.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Revelation 21 contains several images that can create confusion if we read them too literally or too quickly.

There’s no temple in the city. There’s no sun or moon providing its light. At first glance, that might sound like God has eliminated things that were previously good.

But John gives us the explanation himself.

“There is no temple in it, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb” (Revelation 21:22).

The point isn’t that the temple was bad. The point is that the reality to which the temple pointed is now fully present.

Likewise, John says the city has no need of the sun or moon because “the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb” (Revelation 21:23).

The sun isn’t evil. The moon isn’t evil. The temple wasn’t evil.

They were simply never God.

And when God himself dwells openly among his people, even the best gifts of creation are no longer ultimate or required.

Paul makes a similar point in 1 Corinthians 15:28, when he describes the final ordering of all things under Christ so that God may be all in all.

The future isn’t less because good things disappear. It’s greater because nothing competes with the presence and glory of God.

The Turn

So what do we do with all of this?

Jonathan gave us three pieces of homework: Let Go. Let In. Give Away.

They sound simple. They aren’t.

Let go of something. For some of us, this might mean learning to say no.

We live as though every opportunity is an obligation. Every request becomes our responsibility. Every open space on the calendar feels like something that needs to be filled.

But rest isn’t evil.

Jesus himself withdrew to pray. Scripture gives us rhythms of work and rest. The fact that something is good doesn’t mean we’re called to do it endlessly.

If Revelation 21 reminds us that God is ultimately in control, perhaps we can release our desperate need to control everything ourselves.

Say no to something. Leave some margin.

Trust that the world will continue turning without your constant involvement.

Let someone else into your time.

Or, as Jonathan suggested, let someone else into your table.

There’s something deeply Christian about a table.

Food becomes fellowship. A meal becomes an opportunity to know someone. A stranger becomes a friend. A conversation becomes a doorway for the gospel.

Jesus repeatedly used meals as places of relationship and ministry. The early church devoted themselves to fellowship and breaking bread together, according to Acts 2:42-47.

Maybe letting someone in looks as ordinary as inviting someone over for dinner. Maybe it means making room for the person who always seems to eat alone. Maybe it means allowing someone into your schedule when your instinct is to protect every available minute.

If the future is a city where God dwells with his people, perhaps our present should become a little more hospitable.

Finally, give something away.

Your time. Your money.

Your attention. Your resources.

We often talk about generosity as though it begins when we have enough to spare. Scripture presents generosity differently. We give because everything we have ultimately belongs to God.

2 Corinthians 9:6-8 connects generosity with God’s provision, while Jesus repeatedly challenges his followers to loosen their grip on earthly possessions. See also Matthew 6:19-21.

Giving something away can mean surrendering a budget item so that someone else can be helped.

It can mean giving up one evening each week to serve someone.

It can mean opening your home.

It can mean paying for someone else’s meal.

It can mean giving your attention to someone who can’t give you anything in return.

These things may feel small, but small acts of faithfulness make sense when we remember where history is headed.

Carry It Into the Week

The end should motivate the present.

Not because we’re trying to earn our place in the New Jerusalem.

Jesus has already accomplished what we could never accomplish for ourselves. Salvation is grace. Our obedience is the response to that grace.

We let go because Christ is trustworthy.

We let people in because Christ has welcomed us.

We give away because Christ has already given himself for us.

The Christian life isn’t preparation for earning a place in God’s future kingdom. It’s learning to live today as citizens of the kingdom Christ has secured.

Revelation 21 gives us the destination.

God dwelling with his people.

Death defeated.

Pain gone.

Chaos gone.

Creation renewed.

Christ reigning.

And everything made new.

So what are you doing with today?

What needs to be released?

Who needs to be invited in?

What can you give away?

Maybe preparing for the future doesn’t mean staring at the sky and waiting for the end.

Maybe it means living differently because we know how the story ends.

Let go.

Let in.

Give away.

The King is making all things new.

And that future is already giving us reasons to live differently today.

Song of the Week: That’s Enough - Brandon Heath

Brandon Heath is up for Song of the Week with “That’s Enough,” a song dedicated to helping us remember one of the simplest, yet sometimes hardest, truths of our faith in that God is good, and that’s enough. There’s something incredibly refreshing about the simplicity of that message. We live in a world that constantly tells us we need more. More money, more success, more relationships, more experiences, more recognition. We can spend so much time chasing the next thing that we forget to appreciate what’s already right in front of us.

What I love most about this song is the imagery Brandon uses throughout it. He walks through different pieces of life, from family and drinking to secrets and the things we carry quietly inside ourselves. It feels incredibly human. There’s no attempt to pretend that life’s always clean, easy, or put together. Sometimes we know exactly where we’re going, and sometimes we have absolutely no idea. Sometimes we’re celebrating on the mountaintop, and other times we’re desperately trying to find our way through a deep valley.

Yet the circumstances don’t change the truth.

We’re here. We’re loved. God is good. That’s enough.

That’s such a powerful reminder because our circumstances can change in an instant. The mountain can become a valley. The things we thought would make us happy can leave us disappointed. The people we thought would always be there can leave. Our plans can fall apart. Our confidence can disappear. But God doesn’t suddenly become less good because life becomes more difficult.

There’s also something comforting about the song’s willingness to acknowledge that we don’t have to have everything figured out. Faith isn’t pretending that everything is okay when it’s not. Sometimes faith is simply holding onto what we know when we can’t understand what’s happening. We may not have the answers, but we can still know who God is.

And perhaps that’s why “That’s Enough” resonates with me so much. It takes me back to the basics. Before we worry about what we’ve accomplished, what we’ve lost, what tomorrow might bring, or whether we have enough, there’s a God who’s present with us. A God who loves us. A God who’s good.

Whether you’re standing on a mountain today or walking through the deepest valley, those truths remain. You’re here. You’re loved. God is good.

And that’s enough.

Week in Reflection

My apologies for missing last week. Time and energy simply got away from me. Life’s been moving at a pretty fast pace lately, and by the time I had a moment to breathe, I found myself with very little left in the tank. But if I’m being completely honest with myself, I was given a portion of time last week where I could have sat down and completed a post. I had the opportunity. I had the time. What I lacked was the discipline to use that time for what I had committed to doing. Instead, my sinfulness led me to take that time and spend it on lesser, unproductive things.

Now, I want to be careful with that statement because taking time for yourself isn’t inherently sinful. Rest is important. Even Jesus withdrew from the crowds and took time to pray and be alone with the Father. After an especially busy week, I genuinely believe the time I took to myself was needed to recover some of the energy I had spent. There’s nothing wrong with recognizing that we are tired and allowing ourselves a moment to breathe. The problem comes when rest turns into avoidance, when recreation becomes an excuse for neglecting responsibilities, or when the things we want to do consistently take priority over the things God has called us to do.

And that’s where I have to own my part in missing last week’s post. I can make excuses, point to how busy the week was, or simply say that I was tired. Some of those things would even be true. But they wouldn’t tell the whole story. I had an opportunity to write, and I chose something else. That’s something I need to recognize rather than justify.

At the same time, I’m reminded of just how much grace God has already shown me through this series. This is week 42 of Faith in Focus, and last week was only the second time I’ve missed a posting. Forty two weeks of consistently sitting down, reflecting, writing, and sharing what God has been teaching me is something I never could have accomplished through my own strength. That consistency is a testimony to God’s provision more than it’s a testimony to my own discipline. I’m incredibly thankful that He has continued to give me the desire, the words, and the opportunities to keep this series going.

Do I feel bad about missing last week? Yes. I do. But I also don’t want that guilt to become something that keeps me from moving forward. There’s grace in my shortcomings. There’s grace when I fail to live up to the standards I set for myself. And there’s grace in knowing that God does not stop being faithful simply because I’m occasionally unfaithful. My failure to post last week didn’t change God’s character, His goodness, or His patience with me. Instead, it gives me another opportunity to recognize where I fell short, repent, receive His grace, and keep moving.

More importantly, this has reminded me that I cannot allow Faith in Focus to become something I push aside whenever life gets busy. There will always be something competing for my attention. Photography contracts will come up. Concerts will need to be covered. Articles will need to be written. Photos will need to be edited. There will always be another responsibility, another deadline, another distraction, and another thing that feels urgent. But none of those things would exist in my life without God first giving me the ability, opportunity, and calling to pursue them.

There would be no photography side of things without God. There would be no Faith in Focus without God. There would be no words for these posts, no opportunities to serve, and no reason behind any of it without Him. So I need to make sure I never allow the things God has blessed me with to become more important than God Himself.

That’s the lesson I’m taking from missing last week. I don’t need to beat myself up over it, but I do need to learn from it. Rest when I need rest. Work when I need to work. Be disciplined when discipline is required. And above all else, keep my priorities where they belong.

God comes first. Always.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Psalm 81 confronts a problem most of us recognize. We’re very good at wanting more, but not always very good at wanting the right things. The invitation of verse 10 is not to shrink our desires, but to redirect them toward the God who alone can truly satisfy.

Based on the sermon by Ryan Franchuk, Connection Church Sioux Falls, August 16, 2026.

What Are You Desiring?

There was something strangely familiar about this week’s sermon.

Just four weeks ago, we walked through Psalm 81 with Elder Nathan. This week, we opened the same Psalm again, this time with special guest Ryan Franchuk from a local church in Dell Rapids. Ryan is no stranger to preaching at Connection Church, but hearing the same Psalm preached twice within such a short period was an interesting experience.

At first, I wondered what could possibly be different.

The answer, was perspective.

Nathan approached the Psalm through three movements of remembrance, receiving, and repentance. Ryan came at it from another direction, using the broader framework of orientation, disorientation, and reorientation that has become a helpful way of thinking about the overall Psalms and the seasons of life they express. Walter Brueggemann popularized this framework as a way of understanding how the Psalms give language to seasons of stability, disruption, and renewed understanding.

Different approaches. Same Scriptures. Same God. And ultimately, the same warning.

We’re prone to desire good things in the wrong direction.

The World Behind the Text

Psalm 81 begins with celebration. Israel’s called to sing, shout, raise a song, and remember the God who delivered them.

Then the tone changes.

God reminds His people of what He had already done. He had relieved their burdens. He had heard them in distress. He had delivered them. The God speaking in Psalm 81 isn’t distant from His people. He’s the God who’s already acted on their behalf.

Yet the people didn’t listen.

By verse 11, God says, “But my people did not listen to my voice; Israel would not submit to me.”

That’s where the Psalm exposes something uncomfortable about the human heart. We can experience God’s faithfulness and still decide that we know better.

We can see what He’s provided and still believe we need something else. We can receive His grace and then turn around and chase satisfaction somewhere else.

This is part of what makes Psalm 81 so relatable. The problem isn’t that we have desires. The problem is that our desires are easily disordered.

Ryan’s emphasis on disorientation helped put language to this. The framework is useful, but it should be understood as a lens for reading the Psalms rather than a rigid classification system that every Psalm fits perfectly. Psalm 81 contains celebration, historical remembrance, warning, lament, promise, and hope. Its movement is more complicated than a simple label. Still, the framework helps us recognize the disruption taking place when God’s people refuse to listen to Him.

And that disruption begins with what we want.

Walking the Passage

Psalm 81:8 turns the reader toward repentance, “Hear, O my people, while I admonish you! O Israel, if you would but listen to me!”

The problem isn’t that God’s stopped speaking. The problem is that His people have stopped listening.

Then comes the warning in verses 9 and 10. Israel is told not to have other gods, and God reminds them of who He is. “I am the LORD your God, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.” Then comes the remarkable invitation, “Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it.”

Wide.

That single word stood out.

God doesn’t tell His people to barely open their mouths. He doesn’t tell them to settle for a tiny portion. He tells them to open wide.

There’s something beautiful about that picture.

God isn’t calling His people toward smaller desires. He’s calling them toward properly ordered desires.

We often assume holiness means wanting less. Sometimes it does mean letting go of desires that are destructive or sinful. But Christian maturity isn’t simply becoming a person who wants nothing. It’s becoming a person who wants what is good because we have learned to want God above everything else.

Psalm 73:25 gives us one of the clearest pictures of this kind of desire. The psalmist eventually declares, “Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.”

That’s not the language of a person who’s stopped desiring.

It’s the language of a person whose desires have been reordered.

Jesus gives us a similar invitation in Luke 11:9-10. He tells His disciples to ask, seek, and knock, trusting that the Father hears and responds.

Isaiah 55:1-2 likewise invites the thirsty and hungry to come to God, while warning against spending our resources on what doesn’t satisfy.

The Bible isn’t telling us to stop wanting. It’s teaching us where our wanting should lead.

A Fair Counter-Reading

There’s a danger in hearing “open your mouth wide” and turning the verse into a promise that God will give us everything we can imagine.

Psalm 81 doesn’t teach us that.

The surrounding context matters here. God’s invitation comes in the middle of His call for Israel to listen to Him and reject other gods. The promise isn’t a blank check for every earthly ambition. It’s an invitation to trust the God who’s already proven Himself faithful.

The Christian life isn’t about convincing God to fulfill our wish list. It’s about having our hearts transformed so that our deepest desires increasingly conform to His will.

The gospel makes this even clearer. God has already given us what we could never earn through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The Christian doesn’t approach God as a vending machine for blessings. We approach Him as Father because Christ has reconciled us to Him.

The greatest gift isn’t what God puts in our hands.

The greatest gift is God Himself.

The Turn

Psalm 81 eventually reveals what happens when God’s people refuse to listen. Verses 11 through 15 describe Israel’s stubbornness and God’s response. Instead of walking in God’s ways, they followed their own counsel.

There’s the warning for us. Our desires don’t remain neutral.

Whatever we continually pursue begins to shape us. If I constantly desire recognition, I‘ll eventually measure my worth by recognition.

If I constantly desire comfort, I’ll eventually avoid anything that requires sacrifice.

If I constantly desire control, I’ll eventually struggle to trust God.

If I constantly desire possessions, I’ll eventually convince myself that the next purchase will finally make me content.

But if I desire Christ, something different happens.

My desires begin to move outward from myself.

I can desire success without making success my identity.

I can desire relationships without making another person my savior.

I can desire comfort without making comfort my god.

I can desire more while remembering that “more” is ultimately found in knowing the One who made me.

The goal isn’t smaller desires.

The goal is better desires.

God doesn’t ask us to stop desiring. He calls us to desire Him above everything else.

Carry It Into the Week

So what does it look like to actually live Psalm 81:10 this week?

Start by paying attention to what you want.

Not just what you believe.

Not just what you say.

What do you actually want?

What occupies your imagination when you have nothing else demanding your attention? What do you find yourself repeatedly thinking about? What disappointment keeps resurfacing because you believed something would finally make you happy?

Those questions can reveal the direction of our desires.

Then bring those desires to God.

Don’t pretend they’re not there. Don’t sanitize them. Bring them into prayer.

Ask God to redirect what needs redirecting.

Ask Him to increase what needs increasing.

Ask Him to make Himself more desirable than the things that continually compete for our attention.

And then open your mouth wide.

Pray boldly.

Ask deeply.

Seek faithfully.

Knock persistently.

But do it with the confidence that God’s greatest gift isn’t necessarily the thing we’re asking Him to provide. Sometimes His answer is the thing we requested. Sometimes it’s something different. Sometimes He changes our circumstances. Sometimes He changes us.

Either way, the invitation remains the same.

Come to Him.

The God who delivered Israel from Egypt is still the God who satisfies His people. The God who calls us to listen is still speaking through His Word. And the God who tells His people to open their mouths wide isn’t stingy with His grace.

So perhaps the question this week isn’t, “How can I want less?”

Perhaps it’s, “What if I wanted God more?”

Because when our desires are pointed toward Him, we don’t have to live with small expectations of a small god.

We can open our mouths wide.

And trust Him to fill us with what is truly good.

Song of the Week: Faith Hope Love - We Are Messengers

The opening verse of We Are Messengers’ “Faith Hope Love” is something that can resonate with so many of us, especially in a culture that constantly pushes us toward a selfish mentality. We’re encouraged to build our own kingdoms, chase our own success, protect our own image, and live as though we’re the center of the universe. We can spend so much time polishing our own crowns, trying to become the king or queen of our own lives, that we forget there’s already a King on the throne.

And the King we worship doesn’t look like the kings this world celebrates.

Jesus wore a crown of thorns.

He didn’t come demanding that we serve Him because of what He could gain from us. He came to serve, to suffer, and ultimately to lay down His life for us. While the world tells us to chase power, possessions, recognition, and comfort, Jesus points us toward something far greater. He reminds us that everything we spend our lives building here will eventually fade away.

Our careers will end. Our possessions will belong to someone else. Our accomplishments will eventually be forgotten. Even these bodies we spend so much time caring for are temporary. None of the things we accumulate on this earth can follow us into eternity.

So what remains?

Faith. Hope. Love.

Faith in Jesus, our Savior. Not faith in ourselves, our accomplishments, or our ability to control what happens next. Faith in the One who gave everything so that we could be reconciled to God.

Hope in the eternity that awaits those who belong to Christ. Our hope isn’t simply that life will get easier or that everything will eventually work out the way we want it to. Our hope is anchored in a promise far greater than anything this world can offer. Jesus has prepared a place for His people, and one day we will see Him face to face.

And then there is Love.

The love of the God of the universe, who doesn’t merely tolerate us but calls us into relationship with Him. The God who’s prepared a place for His people and invites us to receive a love we could never earn on our own. It’s a love demonstrated through the sacrifice of Jesus and freely given through grace.

There’s something freeing about remembering that none of us arrives in this world rich. We enter with nothing, and eventually we leave with nothing. If everything earthly is temporary, then why spend our lives chasing things that can’t last?

We should be chasing Jesus.

Not because the things of this world are inherently bad, but because they were never meant to become our gods. Success, money, possessions, recognition, comfort, and even our own plans can become distractions when we allow them to take the place that belongs to Christ alone. The world will continue to tell us that we need more, that we need to be more, and that we need to build something impressive for ourselves.

Jesus simply calls us to follow Him.

The things of earth will pass away, but God remains. Our circumstances will change, but Christ doesn’t. Our earthly treasures can disappear overnight, but the treasure we have in Christ can’t be taken from us.

So perhaps the challenge is simple.

Turn your eyes toward Jesus in Faith. Place your Hope in the table He has prepared for you in eternity. And receive the Love that God freely gives.

We don’t need to spend our lives polishing our crowns when the true King has already worn the crown of thorns for us. Our kingdoms will eventually crumble, but His kingdom will never end.

Faith. Hope. Love.

And above all, Jesus.

Week in Reflection

This week I was asked to do the call to worship and the opening prayer for our last Gospel Community get together before the semester starts back up in September. Nervous is an understatement. The idea of standing in front of a group of people, even ones I know well, is already enough to make my heart race, but being asked to not only give a call to worship, but also lead everyone in a corporate prayer to begin the evening? My blood pressure was probably through the roof.

I’d prepared for it. I’d written everything down in my notes, thought through what I wanted to say, and tried to mentally prepare myself to step into a role that, quite honestly, still feels a little outside of my comfort zone. There’s something intimidating about being the person who has to stand up and direct everyone’s attention toward God. You suddenly become very aware of every word, every pause, and every person looking back at you.

And then the kids started getting rowdy because it was time to eat.

Before I really had a chance to step in and do the whole spiel I had prepared, the host of the evening jumped in and started praying for the meal. And just like that, my opportunity was gone.

My first reaction was relief. A huge sigh of relief, actually.

I didn’t have to stand in front of everyone. I didn’t have to stumble through my carefully prepared words. I didn’t have to fight through the nerves that had been building all evening. I could just sit down, eat, and move on with the night.

But as the evening went on, that relief started to mix with something else.

Guilt.

I’d been asked to do something, and I didn’t do it. It wasn’t because I intentionally refused. I didn’t decide that I wasn’t going to obey or serve. The circumstances simply moved faster than I could react. Still, there was a part of me wondering if I should have spoken up. Should I have stopped him? Should I have said, “Hey, I was actually supposed to do the opening prayer”? Should I have been more willing to step outside of my comfort zone?

And honestly, I’m not entirely sure how I should feel about the whole situation even as I’m writing this.

Maybe God knew just how nervous I was and, in His providence, allowed the moment to pass. Or maybe I simply didn’t step up quickly enough when I had the opportunity.

Maybe it’s a little bit of both.

What I do know is that God is gracious in both circumstances.

It’s easy to think that serving God means we have to execute every opportunity perfectly. We can put pressure on ourselves to say the right thing, pray the right prayer, lead the right way, and never stumble. But that’s not the gospel. Jesus doesn’t invite us into ministry because we’re perfectly capable. He invites us to follow Him while reminding us that our strength ultimately comes from Him.

Paul wrote, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9 (ESV)

My nervousness didn’t disqualify me. My failure to speak up didn’t disqualify me either. And even if I had gotten up there and completely stumbled over every word, God’s grace would still have been sufficient.

There’s also something humbling about realizing that the opportunity to serve isn’t always going to look the way we imagine it will. Sometimes we prepare for something and never get the chance to do it. Sometimes we step forward and absolutely crush it. Other times we step forward and realize just how much we still have to learn. All of those moments can be used by God to shape us.

And I’m thankful for the grace of the people around me, too.

I’m thankful for my GC leader who trusted me enough to ask me to do this in the first place. I’m thankful that there wasn’t some dramatic confrontation or disappointment when the moment passed. I’m thankful that I can admit that I was nervous without pretending that I had it all together.

More than anything, I think this experience reminded me that God is still teaching me what it means to serve.

I’ve already been asked to step into more leadership within my Gospel Community, and there are plenty of moments where I feel completely unqualified for what’s in front of me. But maybe feeling nervous isn’t always a sign that I shouldn’t do something. Maybe sometimes it’s simply evidence that I’m being stretched.

September will bring our regular weekly gatherings back, which means there will undoubtedly be more opportunities to pray, speak, serve, and step outside of my comfort zone.

And I’m pretty sure this won’t be the last time I’m asked to do something like this.

Maybe next time I’ll be ready.

Maybe next time I’ll still be nervous.

Maybe next time I’ll stumble through every word.

But regardless of how the next opportunity goes, I can rest in the same truth I needed this time: God’s grace is already there.

I don’t have to be fearless to be faithful. I just have to be willing to step forward when He gives me the opportunity.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Psalm 22 doesn’t ask us to pretend suffering is painless. It teaches us to bring our pain honestly before God, then breathe deeply of the gospel that points us to Jesus.

Based on the sermon by Noel Heikkinen, Connection Church Sioux Falls, August 9, 2026.

The Psalm That Gives Suffering a Voice

This week, Connection Church welcomed a familiar voice back to the pulpit. Noel Heikkinen, Lead Pastor of Riverview Church in Lansing, Michigan, has preached at Connection before, and judging by this sermon, I hope it won’t be his last visit.

As part of our Summer in the Psalms series, Noel took us into Psalm 22 with a sermon titled “Exhaling Pain, Inhaling Grace.”

It was an appropriate title for a Psalm that refuses to hide the reality of suffering.

Before getting into the passage, Noel shared a Psalm reading plan I had never encountered. Read five Psalms each day by taking the day of the month and adding 30 to it. On the first day, that means Psalms 1, 31, 61, 91, and 121. On the second day, Psalms 2, 32, 62, 92, and 122.

By the end of the month, you’ll have worked through all 150 Psalms. The beauty of the plan isn’t simply that you finish the Psalms. It’s that somewhere along the way, a Psalm will meet you.

That’s one of the remarkable things about the Psalms. They give language to experiences we sometimes can’t articulate ourselves. Joy, fear, anger, gratitude, confusion, confidence, grief and hope all find a place within them.

The Psalms speak for us.

And sometimes they say the thing we desperately need to hear.

The World Behind the Text

Psalm 22 begins in anguish.

David asks why God seems distant and why his cries appear unanswered. Psalm 22:1, ESV

This shows us that Biblical faith doesn’t ask us to hide, minimize, or clean up our suffering.

There’s a temptation, especially among Christians, to believe that expressing pain is somehow evidence of weak faith. We can feel pressure to skip immediately to the happy ending. We know God is sovereign. We know Jesus saves. We know resurrection is coming.

All of that is true.

But Psalm 22 reminds us that knowing those truths doesn’t mean we stop hurting. David doesn’t hide his suffering from God. He brings it directly to God.

And then something even more significant happens when we read Psalm 22 through the lens of the gospel.

The New Testament repeatedly connects the language of Psalm 22 with the crucifixion of Jesus. Jesus Himself cries out the opening words of the Psalm from the cross in Matthew 27:46.

The Psalm begins with abandonment and anguish, but it doesn’t end there. It eventually moves toward confidence, praise and proclamation among the nations.

The Christian doesn’t look at suffering and say, “This is fine.”

The Christian looks at suffering and says, “This is not the end.”

Walking the Passage

Psalm 22 is intense from the opening line.

David feels forgotten. He describes enemies surrounding him. He feels mocked, physically broken and utterly overwhelmed. The language is visceral because suffering is visceral.

Then we reach verses 16 through 18.

The imagery becomes strikingly specific. The Psalm describes enemies surrounding the sufferer, physical affliction, and the dividing of garments by casting lots. Those details find a remarkable correspondence in the crucifixion narrative. Matthew 27 describes Jesus being mocked, crucified and having His garments divided by casting lots.

This is where the gospel changes how we read Psalm 22.

Without the gospel, the imagery can feel strange and disconnected. With the gospel, we see the suffering servant of the Psalm pointing us toward the suffering Savior.

But there’s an important distinction here.

Psalm 22 was written as a Davidic Psalm of suffering. We shouldn’t flatten David’s original experience and pretend he was simply writing a detailed screenplay of the crucifixion. The Psalm speaks honestly about David’s suffering in its own historical setting.

At the same time, the New Testament teaches us to see Christ in the Scriptures. Jesus is the greater Davidic King, and the crucifixion brings the Psalm’s suffering imagery into breathtaking focus.

That’s not proof texting. It’s reading Scripture the way the New Testament teaches us to read it.

Jesus didn’t merely experience suffering in some generic sense.

He entered into it.

He was mocked. He was rejected. He was crucified.

And He did it for us.

A Fair Counter-Reading

There’s a danger in reading every difficult Old Testament passage as though its only meaning is a prediction of Jesus. Psalm 22 should first be respected as a real prayer from a real sufferer.

David’s pain wasn’t imaginary. His enemies weren’t theoretical. His anguish wasn’t merely an illustration.

That should shape how we approach our own suffering. We don’t have to pretend that pain is less painful because we know how the story ends.

But neither should we stop at David.

The New Testament explicitly places Psalm 22 alongside Jesus’ crucifixion. Matthew’s account gives us the mocking, the crucifixion and the division of Jesus’ garments.

The result isn’t that David’s suffering becomes irrelevant.

It’s that Christ enters the story as the One who suffers perfectly and ultimately.

The Turn

This is where Noel’s image of breathing becomes so helpful.

We need to exhale the emotional garbage that weighs us down. Not because our emotions are garbage. The garbage is what suffering can cause us to carry when we refuse to bring it to God. Bitterness. Fear. Anger. Shame. Resentment. Despair. The endless mental replay of everything that went wrong.

Psalm 22 gives us permission to exhale.

Tell God you’re hurting. Tell Him you’re confused.

Tell Him you’re angry. Tell Him you feel forgotten.

Then inhale gospel truth.

God hasn’t abandoned His people. Jesus knows suffering firsthand.

The cross wasn’t an accident.

The resurrection means suffering doesn’t get the final word.

Even Jesus’ cry of abandonment in Matthew 27 is connected directly to Psalm 22. Matthew 27:46, ESV

The gospel doesn’t tell us that everything will immediately feel okay. It tells us that Jesus is enough even when everything around us isn’t.

Noel ended with a statement that I don’t think I will forget. Jesus makes everything okay, but our definition of okay is broken.

Maybe that’s the deeper lesson. We often define “okay” as comfort.

God defines it through Christ.

We want the pain removed.

God gives us a Savior who entered the pain.

We want circumstances fixed.

God gives us Himself.

We want answers.

God gives us Jesus.

And perhaps that’s why the Psalm eventually turns outward toward praise and proclamation. The sufferer who has encountered God’s faithfulness doesn’t keep it to himself.

The gospel changes what comes out of us because it changes what we breathe in.

Carry It Into the Week

If Psalm 22 teaches us anything, it’s that suffering should move us toward God, not away from Him.

So this week, pay attention to what you’re carrying.

What are you holding inside because you’re afraid to say it out loud?

What pain have you decided you simply need to “get over”?

What fear keeps replaying in your mind?

Exhale it.

Bring it to God. Then replace the noise with gospel truth.

Remind yourself who Jesus is.

Remind yourself what He accomplished.

Remind yourself that the cross was not defeat.

Remind yourself that resurrection is real.

And then let that truth move outward.

Because when the gospel becomes real to us, we can’t help but talk about it.

There’s sometimes a fear that we will become annoying Christians if we talk about Jesus too much. We worry about what people will think. We worry about being rejected. We worry about making someone uncomfortable.

But our calling isn’t to make everyone comfortable.

Our calling is to faithfully declare the truth.

That includes something as ordinary as Sunday morning worship.

When we sing, we’re not simply creating a personal emotional experience. We’re glorifying God together. We’re proclaiming truth. We’re showing the people around us what we believe about the God who saved us.

Connection Church describes its Sunday gatherings as a place where the church family worships Jesus, sings praise, hears God’s Word and is transformed by the gospel.

So sing.

Even when you don’t feel like it.

Sing when life is good.

Sing when life hurts.

Sing because God is worthy.

Sing because someone beside you may need to hear the truth you’re proclaiming.

And when suffering comes, remember how to breathe.

Exhale the pain.

Inhale the gospel.

Look to Jesus.

Song of the Week: My Everything - Lecrae

I’m not the biggest hip hop fan anymore, but artists like Lecrae keep drawing me back to the genre and give me a reason to dip my toe back into it. “My Everything,” released just this year, is one of those songs. We could spend days talking about the lyrical content found in the two verses, but for me, the heart of the song is found in the hook, “Lord of the highest, I can’t deny it, you are everything, everything to me.”

I continuously pray that those words would become more than just lyrics I sing along to. I want them to become truth in my heart. I want to genuinely be able to say that Jesus is everything to me, not simply when life is going well, but when things are difficult, uncertain, frustrating, or painful. Jesus gave everything for me. He willingly went to the cross, took the punishment I deserved, and conquered death so that I could have new life in Him. If He was willing to give everything for me, then my desire should be to make Him everything in my life.

And yet, I know how often I fall short of that. Time and time again, the world snakes its way back into my thoughts, my desires, and my actions. Things that I know cannot satisfy me still manage to grab my attention. Comfort, entertainment, success, recognition, and countless other distractions can slowly take the place that belongs to Christ. Sometimes I don’t even notice it happening until I realize that my attention has drifted away from the One I claim is everything to me.

That’s where the gospel changes everything. My failures don’t get the final word. My past doesn’t define my future. Because of Christ, there’s forgiveness when I repent and turn back to Him. The sins I’ve committed aren’t something I have to carry forever as though I’m permanently disqualified. Christ has already paid the price.

And the future isn’t something I have to fear either. As Paul reminds us, because of Christ, our labor is not in vain, and because of His resurrection, death itself does not get the final victory. My hope isn’t found in becoming perfect on my own. My hope is found in becoming more like Christ as I continue to surrender my life to Him.

So that chorus becomes more than a catchy hook to me. It becomes a prayer, “Lord, make Yourself everything to me. Take the places where I am still holding on to the world and help me let go. Take my thoughts, my desires, my work, my relationships, my successes, my failures, and my future. Let You be at the center of all of it.”

I may stumble. I may fall. I may find myself distracted by the things of this world again and again. But the gospel reminds me that my story doesn’t end with my failures. My past can be redeemed, my present can be surrendered, and my future is secure in Christ. Jesus gave everything for me. My prayer is that, more and more each day, I would be able to honestly say that He is everything to me.

Week in Reflection

The week started off with some news regarding our Shovel or Shuttle project at Connection Church. Jonathan advised that, while getting bids for the parking lot, our initial goal of $375,000 has now turned into $425,000. That’s quite a jump, and honestly, it can be easy to look at a number like that and wonder how we’re going to get there. But at the same time, I think it’s important to step back and look at what God has already done.

In less than a year, our church family has raised $270,000 toward this project. That’s an incredible amount of money, especially when you consider that this isn’t simply a construction project. We aren’t raising money just to have a bigger or nicer parking lot. We’re trying to create more space for people to come through our doors and, ultimately, hear about Jesus. A parking lot may seem like a mundane thing when compared to the eternal significance of the Gospel, but even something as simple as providing a place for someone to park can be part of removing barriers that keep people from entering a church.

It’s been amazing to watch our congregation rally around this vision. We still have a long way to go, but I don’t want to lose sight of how far God has already brought us. I pray that we will continue to be generous, not because we’re trying to hit some financial goal, but because we recognize that everything we have ultimately belongs to God anyway. I also pray that God continues to bless Connection Church and uses this project for His purposes. This church has become a home for me, and I’m thankful for the people, the leadership, and the opportunity to serve alongside others who want to see the name of Jesus proclaimed.

That desire to see Jesus proclaimed has also been something the Spirit has been pressing on my own heart this week. I’ve really felt convicted to be more bold when it comes to talking about Jesus. Not just writing about Him or talking about Him with other Christians, but actually taking opportunities to share my faith with people who may not know Him.

One of those opportunities came during a travel gig for my photography business. I stopped for breakfast and had a waitress serving me, and while I didn’t outright start a conversation with her about Jesus, I did something that, for me, felt like a significant step. When I signed the receipt, I wrote, “Jesus Loves You.”

Was that a huge evangelistic conversation? No. Did I explain the Gospel? No. Did I even know how she would respond when she saw it? No.

But it felt good to take that step.

Sometimes I think we can become so focused on doing something big for God that we overlook the little opportunities He puts directly in front of us. Maybe that message on a receipt will mean nothing to her. Maybe she’ll throw it away without giving it another thought. But maybe she needed that reminder that day. Maybe she’s been struggling. Maybe she’s been questioning whether God sees her. I don’t know what God might choose to do with something as simple as those three words, but I do know that I want to become more willing to take those opportunities when they come.

And perhaps that’s what God is teaching me right now. Boldness doesn’t always begin with standing in front of a crowd and preaching. Sometimes it begins with simply being willing to say something.

At the same time, this week has also reminded me that spiritual growth doesn’t mean I suddenly stop struggling with sin. In fact, it can almost feel frustrating to experience such closeness to God, to feel so encouraged in my faith, and then turn around and fail again in the same areas.

I know what I need to do. I need to flee.

The problem is that “flee” is much easier to say than it is to actually do when temptation arrives. In the moment, sin can still feel appealing, even when I know exactly where it leads. I know that whatever satisfaction it promises is temporary. I know it will never fulfill me. And yet, I still find myself falling into the same traps.

That doesn’t make the failure any less painful, but it does remind me that I can’t fight sin by simply relying on my own strength. I need Christ. I need His Word. I need prayer. I need to recognize the escape routes He provides instead of convincing myself that temptation is too strong to resist.

I’m thankful that God doesn’t abandon me when I fail. His grace doesn’t give me permission to continue in sin, but it gives me the ability to repent and get back up when I do. I pray that my repentance would be genuine and that my heart would continue to grow in its desire for Him. I pray that when temptation comes, I would recognize the ways He provides for me to flee instead of ignoring them.

This week has been a mixture of encouragement and conviction. I’ve seen God moving through my church, watched people give generously toward a vision bigger than themselves, felt the Spirit pushing me toward greater boldness, and yet I’ve also been reminded of just how much I still need Jesus.

Maybe that’s the point.

The goal isn’t for me to become good enough that I no longer need Him. The goal is to become more aware of just how much I need Him every single day. I want to be more generous, more bold, more obedient, and more willing to flee from sin. But above all, I want those things to flow from a heart that is becoming more in love with Jesus.

So I’ll keep taking the small steps. I’ll keep looking for the opportunities God puts in front of me. I’ll keep repenting when I fail. And I’ll keep trusting that the God who has already brought me this far will continue to lead me where He wants me to go.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Psalm 100 does more than tell us to sing. It calls us to remember who stands at the center of our worship, why our praise is possible, and how that praise should ripple outward into the lives of those around us.

Based on the sermon by James Kliewer, Connection Church Sioux Falls, August 2, 2026.

Full-Throated and Whole-Hearted

There’s something special about welcoming an old friend home. This week at Connection Church, we were blessed to have James Kliewer return to preach. James was once a member of our church before being sent out to plant a church in Hartford, SD. His return gave the morning a sense of familiarity, but the passage he brought us was anything but ordinary.

James walked us through Psalm 100, a short psalm with a surprisingly large reach.

His illustration for the morning was simple. Imagine dropping a rock in a pond. The rock hits the water, and immediately the surface begins to move. One ripple becomes another, which becomes another. The impact travels outward from the place where the rock first landed.

The question James pressed us toward was this, “What is at the center of our ripples?”

For the Christian, the answer can’t ultimately be ourselves. It must be Jesus.

Psalm 100 begins with an invitation to the whole earth to make a joyful noise to the Lord. It calls God’s people to serve Him with gladness, come into His presence with singing, give thanks, and bless His name.

The movement’s outward, but the source is fixed.

The Rock is at the center.

The World Behind the Text

James began the sermon by stepping back from Psalm 100 and explaining the Psalms themselves. He described them as communal, teaching God’s people how to pray, and given by God.

There’s an important nuance here. The Psalms certainly give voice to the gathered people of God, and Psalm 100 itself is unmistakably communal. Its commands are directed toward “all the earth,” and its language repeatedly speaks in the plural. Yet the Psalter also contains deeply personal prayers, laments, confessions, and songs of thanksgiving. The better conclusion is not that the Psalms are never individual, but that even personal prayer belongs within the larger life of God’s people.

Christianity was never intended to be merely a private relationship between us and Jesus. We are saved into a people.

Psalm 100 makes that explicit. We’re reminded that the Lord made us, that we belong to Him, and that we are His people and the sheep of His pasture. Worship therefore doesn’t terminate at the individual. What God does in us is meant to become part of what God is doing among us.

That fits naturally with the gospel, community, and mission framework of Connection Church. The church describes its desire as glorifying God by multiplying disciples of Jesus Christ through gospel, community, and mission.

The gospel gives us something worth proclaiming. Community gives us people with whom to proclaim and live it. Mission sends that proclamation beyond the walls of the church.

The ripples keep moving.

Walking the Passage

Psalm 100 is only five verses long, but it’s packed with reasons to worship.

First, we’re told to worship because the Lord is God. The psalm doesn’t begin with our emotional state. It begins with reality.

“Know that the LORD, he is God!” Psalm 100:3.

That’s the Rock.

Our worship doesn’t begin because we happen to feel particularly spiritual on Sunday morning. It begins because God is who He says He is.

James connected that truth to Jesus’ identity. In Matthew 16:13-18, Peter confesses that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, and Jesus speaks about the rock upon which He will build his church.

There’s an important distinction here. Matthew 16:18 has been interpreted in different ways regarding the referent of “this rock.” The passage itself doesn’t simply say, “Jesus is the rock” in that verse. Yet the broader New Testament explicitly identifies Christ as the Rock, while the Old Testament repeatedly uses rock imagery for God. Paul makes the connection especially clearly in 1 Corinthians 10:4, writing that “the Rock was Christ.”

So James’s image gives us something worth holding onto.

The Rock isn’t us. The Rock is Christ.

And if Christ is the Rock, then our praise isn’t built upon shifting sand. It rests upon someone who doesn’t move.

Psalm 100 then gives us another reason to praise as we belong to Him. We aren’t self made people wandering through the world trying to determine our own ultimate identity. We’re God’s people.

That should change the way we understand worship.

Worship’s not primarily about what we get out of singing. It’s about recognizing who God is and responding to what is true about Him.

The psalm closes by giving us three reasons to praise God: He’s good, His steadfast love endures forever, and His faithfulness extends to all generations.

That sounds remarkably different from praising a tyrant.

God’s authority isn’t arbitrary domination. The King we worship is both just and loving. His goodness isn’t separated from His sovereignty, and His authority is not opposed to His steadfast love.

This is why confessing Jesus as Lord isn’t merely checking a theological box.

Romans 10:9 connects confession with belief and salvation, declaring that those who confess Jesus as Lord and believe in His resurrection will be saved.

The confession matters because the reality matters.

Jesus is Lord.

A Fair Counter-Reading

There’s a danger in turning the ripple illustration into a formula.

We could hear it and conclude that if our Christian lives aren’t producing obvious results, then something must be wrong with us. That can quickly become exhausting, especially for someone already carrying shame, grief, trauma, or the weight of feeling like they never do enough.

But the gospel doesn’t teach us that God’s power depends on the quality of our performance.

The Rock doesn’t become unstable because the water around us is still.

Our faithfulness matters. Our obedience matters. Our witness matters. But the effectiveness of the gospel ultimately belongs to God.

Jesus remains Lord whether the ripple is immediately visible or not. We are called to faithful obedience, not control over outcomes.

The Turn

Here’s where Psalm 100 becomes uncomfortably personal.

If Jesus is truly Lord, then he can’t simply be an accessory to our lives.

We can’t place Him at the edge of the pond and then live as though we are the rock at the center.

Lordship means submission.

That doesn’t mean Jesus is a tyrant demanding obedience because He enjoys control. It means that the One who created us, redeemed us, and loves us has the rightful authority to direct our lives.

The question isn’t whether Jesus gets a place in our lives.

The question is whether He gets the center.

This’s where James’s call to be “full-throated and whole-hearted” becomes so powerful. Our confession shouldn’t merely exist on our lips while our lives tell another story.

Hebrews 13:15 describes praise as a sacrifice offered to God through Christ, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name.

But the Christian life doesn’t stop at singing.

The praise that comes from our lips should increasingly become visible in our lives.

That’s where the ripples begin.

We worship, and someone else sees what we value.

We serve, and someone else encounters the character of Christ.

We confess Jesus as Lord, and someone else hears the gospel.

We forgive, love, sacrifice, welcome, and tell the truth because Jesus is Lord.

The ripple moves.

Carry It Into the Week

So what does Psalm 100 look like on a weekday afternoon?

It looks like remembering.

When life is frustrating, remember who is Lord.

When temptation promises satisfaction, remember who is Lord.

When success tempts you toward pride, remember who is Lord.

When suffering makes you question whether God is good, remember what Psalm 100 says about his steadfast love and faithfulness.

When you gather with other believers, don’t treat worship as a private experience. Sing knowing that someone beside you may need the reminder you are singing.

And when you leave the church building, don’t assume the worship service has ended.

The ripples continue.

Psalm 96 gives the same outward movement, calling God’s people to sing, bless God’s name, and declare his glory among the nations.

That’s gospel, community, and mission working together.

We know who Jesus is. We gather around Him. Then we go tell others.

The goal isn’t to manufacture impressive ripples so that we can congratulate ourselves on how influential we’ve become.

The goal is to keep pointing back to the Rock.

Because when people notice the ripples, they should eventually ask where they came from.

And our answer should always be Jesus.

Not us.

Jesus.

The Rock at the center.

Song of the Week: Meet Me In The Valley - Tasha Layton

This week’s song by Tasha Layton is pure encouragement wrapped in beautiful lyrics. It’s a reminder that no matter where life finds us, whether we are celebrating on the mountaintop or struggling to take another step through the valley, Jesus never abandons His people. He’s present in our greatest joys just as much as He’s in our deepest sorrows. He doesn’t wait for us to have everything figured out before drawing near. He meets us exactly where we are. Better yet, He was already there before we arrived.

The heart of this song centers on those valley seasons. Those moments when the weight of life feels overwhelming, prayers seem to linger without answers, and hope can feel just out of reach. It’s in those moments that we often need the reminder that God has not forgotten us. He walks with us through every trial, every disappointment, every moment of grief, and every battle we face. The valley may feel lonely, but for those who belong to Christ, it’s never walked alone.

At the same time, we shouldn’t overlook the mountaintops. It’s easy to cry out for God when life hurts, but we should be just as eager to praise Him when life is full of blessing. Every good gift comes from Him, and our worship shouldn’t depend on our circumstances. Whether we find ourselves rejoicing or weeping, He’s equally worthy of our praise.

As I listened to this song, I found myself hoping it becomes more than just another track on a playlist but that it becomes a prayer. A simple, heartfelt cry to the Lord that says, “Jesus, meet me in this valley. Be my strength when I am weak. Be my shield in the battle that surrounds me. Remind me that You are near, even when I can’t see what You’re doing. I know You’re faithful, so help me trust You one step at a time.”

If you’re walking through a difficult season today, I hope Tasha Layton’s words point you beyond the music and toward the One who never leaves nor forsakes His children. And when those inevitable valleys come, may this song remind you to lift your eyes to Christ, confidently asking Him to meet you there, knowing He already has.

Week in Reflection

This week was filled with both incredible highs and painful lows. In many ways, it was a picture of the Christian life. There were moments of joy that reminded me of God’s goodness and moments of failure that reminded me just how much I need His grace.

The lowest point of my week was falling into the same sin yet again. It’s frustrating because I know exactly where that road leads. I know it will never truly satisfy, yet my flesh still wages war against my spirit, and sometimes I give in.

The shame that follows is real, but so is God’s grace. When I confess my sin and genuinely repent, God is faithful to forgive because of what Christ accomplished on the cross. As 1 John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” My standing before God isn’t based on how well I performed this week but on the finished work of Jesus.

Even in the middle of my shortcomings, God continued to pour out blessings I certainly don’t deserve.

One of the biggest highlights of my week was photographing one of my favorite Christian bands, Skillet, at the Sioux Empire Fair. This was a dream opportunity ever since I started concert photography. They were everything I hoped they would be from behind the lens, but what made the experience even more meaningful was covering artists whose music boldly points people to Christ. It reminded me how thankful I am that God has allowed me to combine my love for photography with opportunities to serve through writing.

The second blessing came through my church family. This week I was asked to step into a leadership role within our Gospel Community. I’ll be serving alongside our current leaders as we work toward multiplying our group in 2027.

If I’m honest, that responsibility is intimidating. Leadership exposes your weaknesses, but it also reminds you that the work is God’s, not yours. I’m humbled that my church leaders trust me enough to serve in this capacity, and I know that whatever lies ahead, God will provide the wisdom and strength I need.

Looking back on this week, I see the beauty of the gospel. I see a sinner who still stumbles, a Savior who continues to forgive, and a Father who continues to bless His children despite what they deserve.

Paul reminds us in Romans 5:8, “but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

My prayer is that we would never allow our failures to push us away from God. Instead, may they drive us to repentance, deeper dependence on Christ, and continued growth in holiness. Sanctification isn’t about becoming perfect overnight. It’s about faithfully following Jesus a day at a time, trusting that He who began a good work in us will be faithful to complete it for His glory.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Listening is one of the simplest commands in Scripture and one of the hardest to practice. Psalm 81 reminds us that God isn’t looking for empty religious performance but hearts that remember His faithfulness, receive His word, and respond with repentance.

Based on the sermon by Nathan Schapp, Connection Church Sioux Falls, July 26, 2026.

When God Speaks: Learning to Listen in Psalm 81

There’s no shortage of noise competing for our attention. Notifications buzz, schedules overflow, entertainment is endless, and even good responsibilities can crowd out the quiet voice of God. We often convince ourselves that being busy is the same as being faithful. Yet Psalm 81 reminds us that the greatest danger isn’t simply distraction. It’s failing to listen.

This week at Connection Church, Elder Nathan Schaap led us through Psalm 81, a psalm that revolves around one central question, “Are we truly listening to God?” He organized the passage into three movements that beautifully reveal God’s heart for His people. Remember (Psalm 81:1-7), Receive (Psalm 81:8-12), and Repent (Psalm 81:13-16).

The message was both encouraging and convicting. God has never desired religious performance apart from genuine devotion. He desires our hearts.

The World Behind the Text

Psalm 81 was written by Asaph and was likely sung during one of Israel’s annual festivals. The opening verses overflow with celebration as God’s people are commanded to sing, shout, and remember His mighty deliverance from Egypt (Psalm 81:1-5). Worship was never intended to be a mindless routine. Every feast, every sacrifice, and every song pointed back to God’s covenant faithfulness.

In verses 6-7, God Himself begins speaking, reminding Israel how He lifted their burdens, delivered them from slavery, and answered them in their distress. Before calling His people to obedience, He first reminds them of His grace.

That pattern echoes throughout Scripture. God’s commands are always grounded in His saving work. Grace comes before obedience. He rescues first and then calls His people to walk with Him.

Walking the Passage

Remember

Memory is one of God’s greatest gifts to His people.

Throughout Scripture, God’s people are repeatedly told to remember what He’s done. Forgetfulness often leads to wandering, while remembrance fuels worship and trust. Israel was called to remember the Exodus because remembering God’s faithfulness strengthens confidence in His future provision.

Yet remembering can become mechanical.

The festivals continued. The songs were sung. The sacrifices were offered. Outwardly everything looked healthy. Inwardly, hearts had drifted.

That same temptation exists today. Church attendance, Bible reading plans, serving, giving, and even ministry can slowly become habits detached from affection for Christ. None of those practices are wrong. They are wonderful gifts. But they become hollow when our hearts are no longer engaged.

Jesus confronted this same problem centuries later when He quoted Isaiah, saying, “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me” (Matthew 15:8).

God has never been impressed by empty religion. He desires hearts that genuinely delight in Him.

Receive

The middle section of Psalm 81 contains one of the saddest moments in the psalm.

God says, “Hear, O my people, while I admonish you! O Israel, if you would but listen to me!” (Psalm 81:8).

Then comes the heartbreaking response, “But my people did not listen to my voice; Israel would not submit to me” (Psalm 81:11).

Disobedience rarely begins with a dramatic rebellion. More often it begins when we slowly stop listening.

Perhaps we become too busy to pray. Too distracted to open Scripture. Too confident in our own wisdom to seek God’s direction. Before long, we’re making decisions without ever asking what the Lord desires.

Paul reminds believers that “faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Romans 10:17). A listening heart is a growing heart.

Receiving God’s Word means more than reading words on a page. It means allowing His truth to shape our desires, correct our thinking, and redirect our lives.

The remarkable truth is that while idols constantly demand more from us, the Lord delights in giving.

Psalm 81:10 contains an incredible invitation:

“I am the Lord your God, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it.”

False gods always promise satisfaction while leaving us empty. They consume our attention, our affection, and our energy, yet never satisfy.

The living God is entirely different.

He gives grace.

He gives mercy.

He gives wisdom.

He gives peace.

Most importantly, He gave His own Son so that sinners might be reconciled to Him. As Paul writes, “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32).

God isn’t withholding His goodness from His children. He delights in giving Himself to them.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Some readers understand Psalm 81 primarily as a national covenant text directed specifically to ancient Israel. In that sense, the promises of military victory, abundant provision, and protection are covenant blessings connected to Israel’s obedience under the Mosaic covenant.

That observation is important and shouldn’t be ignored.

At the same time, the New Testament consistently reveals the deeper principle behind the passage. God still calls His people to hear His voice, trust His promises, and walk in obedience through Christ. While Christians shouldn’t automatically apply every national promise to themselves, the invitation to listen, trust, and receive God’s grace remains central to the life of every believer (John 10:27).

The Turn

One statement from Nathan’s sermon has continued echoing into the week for me.

God doesn’t simply want our words or our actions. He wants our hearts.

It’s possible to sing loudly while listening very little.

It’s possible to serve faithfully while loving Christ very little.

It’s possible to know Scripture intellectually while refusing to let it shape our lives.

The gospel offers something entirely different.

Jesus doesn’t merely invite us into better religious habits. He gives us a new heart (Ezekiel 36:26-27). Through His death and resurrection, we are forgiven, adopted, and empowered by the Holy Spirit to hear and follow our Shepherd.

There’s an old saying that there is more mercy in Christ than sin in us. That truth beautifully captures the hope of Psalm 81.

Israel repeatedly failed to listen. We repeatedly fail to listen.

Yet Christ never stopped listening to His Father. He perfectly obeyed where we continually fall short. His righteousness becomes ours through faith alone.

That’s why repentance isn’t returning to earn God’s love. Repentance is returning because we have already been loved through Christ.

Carry It Into the Week

Perhaps the greatest application of Psalm 81 is remarkably simple.

Slow down.

Before reaching for your phone tomorrow morning, spend a few quiet moments in Scripture.

Before making an important decision, ask God for wisdom.

Before filling every moment with music, podcasts, or social media, leave room to hear His voice.

Listening isn’t passive. It’s one of the most active expressions of faith.

The beautiful promise of Psalm 81 is that our God isn’t reluctant to bless His people. Unlike every idol that continually takes, the Lord delights in giving good gifts to His children. He’s already demonstrated that beyond question through the cross.

May we remember His faithfulness.

May we receive His Word with humble hearts.

May we repent quickly whenever we drift.

And may we discover again that the voice calling us to obedience is the very voice that first called us into grace.

Song of the Week: Keep Holding On - Jeremy Rosado

Jeremy Rosado has always had a way of delivering songs that feel like conversations with a friend, and Keep Holding On is no exception. The opening line immediately tells you exactly what kind of song you’re about to hear, “I know you’re tired of holding the weight.” It’s an honest acknowledgment of what so many people feel every single day.

Have you ever felt like that? Like you’re carrying the weight of your job, your family, your finances, your relationships, or your own mistakes? Maybe you’re doing everything you can just to make it through another day, putting on a smile while silently wondering how much longer you can keep going. The truth is, we’ve all experienced seasons where the burdens become so heavy that we begin to believe they define us.

But that’s exactly where the gospel meets us.

The enemy wants us to believe that our failures are our identity, that our brokenness is permanent, and that we’re too far gone to receive grace. Scripture tells us something entirely different. Jesus invites those who are weary and burdened to come to Him, promising, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28 ESV). Our identity isn’t found in the weight we carry but in the One who carried the cross for us.

One of the beautiful reminders throughout this song is that we were never created to shoulder life’s burdens alone. God doesn’t simply watch from a distance hoping we’ll figure it out. He invites us to cast every anxiety upon Him because He cares for us (1 Peter 5:7 ESV). What a comforting truth that the Creator of the universe not only sees our pain but willingly carries it with us.

The chorus continues to point toward hope rather than despair. “Keep holding on” isn’t simply a motivational slogan telling us to try harder. It’s an encouragement to keep holding onto Jesus, even when our grip feels weak. The amazing thing about our Savior is that His grip on us is never weak. When we feel like letting go, He remains faithful.

I also appreciate how the song reminds us that redemption is never out of reach. No matter how long you’ve wandered, how many mistakes you’ve made, or how hopeless your situation seems, Jesus is still in the business of restoring lives. Throughout Scripture we see Him redeeming people who believed their stories were over, only to reveal that He was just getting started.

Maybe today you’ve been trying to carry burdens that were never meant for your shoulders. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that you’re too broken or too far gone. Let Keep Holding On be a reminder that your brokenness is not your identity. Your identity is found in Christ, who loves you enough to meet you in the middle of your struggle and walk with you through it.

So my prayer is simple. Don’t give up. Call upon the name of Jesus. Give Him your fears, your doubts, your regrets, and your exhaustion. Trust Him with the weight you’ve been carrying for far too long. As long as there’s breath in your lungs, it’s never too late for redemption. God isn’t finished writing your story. In fact, through Christ, the best chapters are still ahead.

Week in Reflection

Confession time. This week was filled with complete and utter laziness. I neglected my Bible reading, my prayer time, my household chores, and even my writing. All because I got addicted to a video game. It started innocently enough, just wanting to unwind for a little while, but before I knew it, “just one more” became the theme of my week. Hours slipped by without me even realizing it, and the things that truly matter were continually pushed aside.

Video games aren’t inherently sinful. Like so many forms of entertainment, they can be a good gift when enjoyed in moderation. The problem wasn’t the game itself. The problem was my heart. What began as a way to relax slowly became the thing I looked forward to most each day. My thoughts revolved around getting back to it, and my priorities shifted without me even noticing. Instead of spending time with the Lord, I reached for the controller. Instead of taking care of responsibilities that God has entrusted to me, I chose temporary comfort. Something that was meant to be a source of enjoyment had quietly become an idol.

It’s amazing how subtle idolatry can be. We often think of idols as carved statues or false gods from the Old Testament, but an idol is simply anything that captures our affection, attention, or devotion more than Christ. It can be a career, a relationship, social media, sports, or in my case this week, a video game. When something consistently takes God’s rightful place in our hearts, we’ve crossed a line that has nothing to do with the object itself and everything to do with our worship.

The encouraging part is that my failure doesn’t surprise God. He already knew my weakness before I ever picked up the controller. Through Christ, I don’t have to hide in shame or pretend I have everything together. Instead, I can confess my sin, repent, and run back to the Father who is faithful to forgive. As 1 John 1:9 reminds us, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” That promise isn’t an excuse to continue in sin, but an invitation to return to the One whose grace is greater than my wandering heart.

This week has reminded me that spiritual drift rarely happens all at once. It usually comes through small compromises, small distractions, and small decisions repeated over and over again. Before long, those little choices shape the direction of our hearts. That’s why spending daily time in God’s Word and prayer is so important. They don’t earn His love, but they continually remind us where our true joy is found.

So my prayer this week is simple. Lord, help me not to trade what is eternal for what is temporary. Help me recognize when things begin to take Your place in my heart. Give me the discipline to prioritize Your Word before entertainment, responsibility before comfort, and worship before distraction. Thank You that when I wander, You don’t slam the door shut. Instead, You lovingly call me back, ready to welcome me with open arms and continue the work You began in me. May I find my greatest satisfaction not in another level, another achievement, or another hour of escape, but in walking faithfully with You each day.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Psalm 115 reminds us that every heart is shaped by its object of worship. As we fix our eyes on Christ instead of the idols that compete for our attention, God transforms us into people who reflect His glory rather than our own.

Based on the sermon by Jonathan Land, Connection Church Sioux Falls, July 19, 2026.

Smashing Idols and Beholding Christ

This week marked the return of our founding pastor, Jonathan Land, from his annual sabbatical as he continued our Summer in the Psalms series through Psalm 115, entitled “To Your Name Give Glory.”

Before opening God’s Word, Jonathan shared an exciting update about our church’s Shuttle or Shovel campaign. Less than a year after launching the initiative, the congregation has already reached approximately 70 percent of its goal, raising $260,000 toward expanding our parking lot. That investment is equivalent to creating roughly 114 additional parking spaces, making room for more people to gather each Sunday to hear the gospel. It’s a beautiful reminder that generosity is never ultimately about buildings or pavement. It’s about removing barriers so more people can encounter Jesus. What an incredible testimony to God’s faithfulness through His people.

The World Behind the Text

Psalm 115 opens with one of the clearest declarations of God’s glory found anywhere in Scripture,

“Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory, for the sake of your steadfast love and your faithfulness.” Psalm 115:1

The repetition immediately grabs our attention. Throughout Scripture, repetition is often used to emphasize importance. Here, the psalmist repeats “not to us” because our hearts naturally drift toward making ourselves the center of the story.

Jonathan illustrated this through something every one of us recognizes. Selfie culture.

Imagine standing before the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, or meeting someone you’ve admired for years. A selfie may include something extraordinary in the background, but the primary focus remains the person holding the camera. The lens is ultimately pointed back at ourselves.

That tendency isn’t merely a modern social media problem. It’s a human heart problem. Since Genesis 3, humanity has sought its own glory instead of God’s.

Psalm 115 redirects our attention. Life was never meant to revolve around us. It has always been about the glory of God.

Walking the Passage

The central theme Jonathan highlighted throughout the sermon could be summarized in one simple phrase. You become what you behold.

The psalmist contrasts the living God with the powerless idols crafted by human hands.

“They have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see... Those who make them become like them; so do all who trust in them.” Psalm 115:5, 8

The irony is almost funny. These idols have eyes but cannot see.
They have ears but cannot hear. They have feet but cannot walk.
They have mouths but cannot speak.

They possess the appearance of life while lacking life itself.

Even more sobering is the warning that those who worship these idols become like them.

Our worship always shapes us.

Jonathan often reminds us that every person worships something. Worship is not optional. The only question is where our worship is directed.

Some worship money. Others worship success. Some worship comfort, relationships, politics, entertainment, careers, or even ministry itself as Jonathan confessed on stage.

Whatever captures our greatest affection ultimately shapes our identity.

If we continually fix our hearts on lifeless things, our spiritual lives slowly become just as lifeless. We lose sensitivity to God’s voice. Our spiritual vision grows dim. Our hearts become increasingly hardened.

But there is another option.

Jesus isn’t an idol fashioned by human hands.

He is alive.

He walked among His people. He spoke truth with authority. He touched the broken. He healed the sick. He welcomed sinners. He willingly endured betrayal, suffering, and death on the cross.
Three days later, He rose from the grave, defeating sin and death forever.

When we behold Christ, we’re transformed into His likeness.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Some readers understand Psalm 115 primarily as a polemic against the physical idols common among Israel’s surrounding nations. While that historical context is certainly present, the principle extends beyond carved statues.

The human heart continually manufactures idols. Anything that receives the trust, affection, or ultimate devotion that belongs to God alone becomes an idol. Scripture consistently broadens this understanding, reminding us that idolatry is ultimately a matter of the heart, not merely the hands, and does not always come in a physical form.

The Turn

Jonathan connected Psalm 115 with one of the most remarkable pictures of Christ found in the Old Testament.

In Numbers 21:7-9, Israel was suffering under God’s judgment as venomous serpents spread throughout the camp. God’s provision was unexpected. Moses was instructed to raise a bronze serpent on a pole, and everyone who looked upon it in faith would live.

The bronze serpent held no power in itself. Healing came through trusting God’s provision.

Centuries later, Jesus drew upon this very account while speaking with Nicodemus.

“And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” John 3:14-15

Jesus became the greater fulfillment of that bronze serpent.

Just as the Israelites looked in faith and lived, we now look to Christ crucified and risen and receive eternal life.

The object of our gaze changes everything.

When our eyes remain fixed on ourselves, pride grows.

When our eyes remain fixed on the world, anxiety grows.

When our eyes remain fixed on our idols, emptiness grows.

But when our eyes remain fixed on Christ, faith grows.

The invitation of Psalm 115 isn’t merely to identify our idols.

It’s to replace them.

Not simply by trying harder, but by beholding Someone greater.

Carry It Into the Week

One of the most practical questions we can ask ourselves is this, “What am I looking to for ultimate satisfaction?”

The answer often reveals our idols.

Perhaps it’s approval from others.
Perhaps it’s financial security.
Perhaps it’s control or comfort.
Perhaps it’s even our own reputation.

Psalm 115 invites us to lay every one of those false gods down.

They cannot satisfy.
They cannot save.
They cannot give life.

Only Jesus can.

My prayer this week is that God would expose the idols we have quietly allowed to compete for our affection. May He give us the courage to smash them, not because self denial is the goal, but because Christ is infinitely better.

The psalm concludes with a beautiful promise, “The dead do not praise the Lord, nor do any who go down into silence. But we will bless the Lord from this time forth and forevermore. Praise the Lord!” Psalm 115:17-18

Our lives on earth are temporary, but our worship isn’t.

For those who belong to Christ, one day faith will become sight. We will join countless believers around God’s throne, giving Him the glory He alone deserves for all eternity.

Not to us. Not to us.

To His name alone.

Song of the Week: Remind Me You’re Here - Jason Gray

This week’s song is grounded less in storytelling and more in prayer. While Jason Gray has become well known for his ability to tell deeply personal stories, something listeners of his SiriusXM The Message program Acoustic Storytime have come to appreciate, this song takes a different approach. Rather than walking us through a narrative with a beginning, middle, and end, it becomes a conversation with God. It’s the kind of song that reminds us that our greatest need isn’t always an explanation for our circumstances, but a deeper awareness of the One who walks through them with us.

Right from the opening lines, the song strikes a chord with anyone who has spent time following Christ. There are moments when life simply doesn’t make sense. Pain arrives unexpectedly. Prayers seem unanswered. We search endlessly for the reason behind our suffering, convinced that if we could just understand the “why,” maybe the hurt would become easier to bear. It’s a struggle that every believer faces at one point or another. We know God is good, yet our circumstances can tempt us to wonder if He’s forgotten us or if somehow He was caught off guard by what happened.

Scripture paints a very different picture. God is never surprised by our pain. He sees the beginning from the end, and while we may not understand His purposes in the moment, we can trust that nothing enters our lives apart from His knowledge and care. That doesn’t always remove the hurt, but it does give us confidence that our suffering is never meaningless and never experienced alone.

The chorus captures the heart of that truth beautifully. Rather than demanding answers, it gently shifts our focus toward God’s presence. So often we believe that if God would simply explain everything, our hearts would be satisfied. Yet throughout Scripture, God frequently offers Himself before He offers explanations. His promise has never been that life will be free from hardship, but that He will never leave nor forsake His people.

That’s what makes the chorus so powerful. It reminds us that we don’t need every question answered because Jesus is already beside us. Like a loving Father reaching for the hand of His child, He invites us to trust Him one step at a time. Sometimes the greatest miracle isn’t that our circumstances immediately change, but that we discover Christ’s peace in the middle of them.

It’s amazing how quickly our own minds can become our greatest obstacle. Left to ourselves, we replay conversations, imagine worst-case scenarios, and try to solve problems that only God can carry. Anxiety feeds on unanswered questions, but faith feeds on God’s character. The more we fix our eyes on His faithfulness instead of our uncertainty, the more our hearts find rest.

That doesn’t mean we stop asking questions. The Psalms are filled with honest cries of “Why?” and “How long?” God welcomes our honesty. But He also lovingly redirects our attention from our limited perspective to His unchanging love. As Isaiah reminds us, God’s thoughts are higher than our thoughts and His ways higher than our ways (Isaiah 55:8-9). Trust grows not because we understand everything, but because we know the One who does.

So my prayer after listening to this song is a simple one. The next time trouble comes your way, instead of immediately searching for answers, pause and ask God to make His presence unmistakably real. Ask Him to remind you that He has never left your side. Pray that He would quiet the endless noise inside your own mind and replace it with the peace that only He can give.

Because in the end, that’s what this song is really about. It isn’t asking God to explain every hardship. It’s asking Him to hold our hand through it. And when we are swallowed up not by our fears but by God’s incredible heart for us, we begin to realize that His presence has always been enough.

Week in Reflection

This week has been an incredible encouragement, especially when it comes to my men’s group. Every Friday morning I leave reminded of how gracious God has been in surrounding me with men who genuinely desire to know Him more and who want to help each other pursue Christ faithfully. It’s easy to think spiritual growth is something we accomplish on our own, but weeks like this remind me that God often grows us through the people He places beside us. Their wisdom, honesty, and willingness to challenge one another have become one of the greatest blessings in my walk with Christ.

This week our group decided to give ourselves a little “homework.” Rather than simply discussing spiritual disciplines, we each committed to intentionally practicing an action throughout the week that would draw us closer to God. It wasn’t about checking a religious box or earning favor with Him. It was about creating intentional habits that would help us keep our eyes fixed on Christ in the middle of busy schedules and everyday distractions.

One man shared that he wanted to memorize a hymn. His reason wasn’t simply because hymns are rich in joyful praise, although they certainly are. His desire was to have those truths stored in his heart so he could sing them to his children at any moment. I loved hearing that because it wasn’t just about his own spiritual growth. It was about creating opportunities to disciple his kids, reminding both himself and them of God’s character through songs that have encouraged believers for generations.

Another man committed to prayer, but with a specific emphasis. Rather than praying only in private, he wanted to intentionally pray with his wife. That simple commitment spoke volumes to me. It’s one thing to pray individually, but there is something deeply meaningful about bringing your spouse, or any other person for that matter, before the Lord together, sharing burdens, celebrating answered prayers, and growing spiritually together. It was a reminder that our spiritual disciplines often bless those around us just as much as they bless us.

As I thought through what I wanted to focus on, I also landed on prayer. However, it wasn’t simply praying more often. I wanted to be intentional about physically kneeling before God each day. For years my nightly prayers have often happened as I was lying in bed, and more times than I’d like to admit those prayers gradually blended into falling asleep. While there is certainly nothing wrong with praying while lying down, I realized that for me it had become easy to lose focus. My prayers would become shorter, my mind would wander, and before long I would be asleep.

This week I began kneeling beside my bed instead. It seems like such a small change, but it has made a significant difference. There is something humbling about physically lowering yourself before the Lord. My posture has helped shape my heart. Instead of prayer feeling like the last task before sleep, it has become a dedicated moment of worship and conversation with the Lord. I’ve found myself more attentive, more focused, and more intentional with what I bring before God. Rather than rushing through familiar requests, I’ve lingered longer in thanksgiving, confession, and praise. I have genuinely looked forward to those moments instead of simply fitting them into the end of the day.

That experience has reminded me that sometimes our spiritual lives don’t need massive overhauls. Sometimes a small change in habit or routine can help us better recognize God’s presence and create space to commune with Him more intentionally. The goal isn’t the physical act of kneeling itself, but the heart posture it helps cultivate. For me, it’s been a practical way to remove distractions and remind myself that I’m coming before a holy and gracious Father who invites me to cast every care upon Him.

Perhaps the greatest takeaway from this week, though, isn’t the specific things we each chose. It’s the gift of having brothers in Christ who encourage one another to pursue Jesus more faithfully. We celebrate victories together, confess struggles together, pray for one another, and lovingly challenge each other when needed. In a culture that often encourages isolation and self reliance, having a community that points one another toward Christ is invaluable.

I know not everyone has a men’s group or women’s group like this, but I truly believe every believer should seek out that kind of biblical community. We weren’t designed to walk this journey alone. We need people who will celebrate God’s faithfulness with us, ask the hard questions, hold us accountable when we drift, and continually point us back to the Gospel. I’m incredibly thankful for the men God has placed in my life, and I pray I can be the same kind of encouragement to them that they have been to me.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

What begins as innocent admiration can quietly grow into envy and eventually erode our trust in God. Psalm 73 exposes the deceptive appeal of worldly ease while reminding us that God's presence is a greater treasure than anything this life can offer.

Based on the sermon by Corey Johnston, Connection Church Sioux Falls, July 12, 2026.

From Admiration to Envy - When Comparison Steals Our Trust In God

Our Summer in the Psalms series welcomed a special guest this week as Pastor Corey Johnston of Heights Community church in Collinsville, Illinois, opened Psalm 73 with a sermon aptly titled, The Illusion of Ease. From the opening moments, it was clear this wasn’t simply a lesson about envy. It was a diagnosis of how our hearts slowly drift away from trusting God.

Corey summarized the progression in three memorable steps.

Admiration births Desire. Desire breeds Envy. Envy bellows Distrust.

It’s a progression every believer has experienced in one form or another. Rarely do we wake up one morning distrusting God. Instead, our hearts drift one small comparison at a time.

The World Behind the Text

Psalm 73 is written by Asaph, one of Israel’s worship leaders. He begins with a confident declaration, “Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart” (Psalm 73:1, ESV).

Yet almost immediately he admits that his feet had nearly slipped because he became fixated on the prosperity of the wicked. Rather than looking upward to God, he looked sideways at everyone else.

Comparison has always been one of Satan’s favorite tools.

Corey connected this reality with Revelation 17:4-7. Even the apostle John, while receiving an incredible heavenly vision, found himself marveling at Babylon, portrayed as a prostitute clothed in luxury and splendor. The angel’s response is simple, “Why do you marvel?” (Revelation 17:7, ESV).

If John could momentarily be captivated by the beauty of the enemy in the middle of a divine vision, we shouldn’t be surprised when our own hearts become distracted by the temporary success and comfort of this world.

The temptation is universal.

Walking the Passage

The heart of Psalm 73 isn’t merely that Asaph noticed the prosperity of the wicked. It’s that he began longing for it.

Verses 4-12 paint a vivid picture of everything that appeared attractive. Their lives seemed free from suffering. Their bodies were healthy. They appeared untouched by hardship. They possessed wealth, influence, and confidence.

At the center of it all was one word. Ease.

Who wouldn’t want that?

Yet Corey challenged us with an important question. Without Christ, does ease ever truly satisfy?

My own experience says no.

The human heart was never designed to be satisfied by possessions, relationships, achievements, or comfort. Every time we obtain the thing we believed would finally satisfy us, another desire quickly replaces it. Envy is never content because it’s fueled by comparison rather than gratitude.

What starts as admiration slowly transforms into believing that God has somehow withheld something better from us.

That’s where distrust begins.

Verse 13 reveals Asaph wrestling with this very thought, “All in vain have I kept my heart clean and washed my hands in innocence” (Psalm 73:13, ESV).

Notice what’s happening.

Asaph never stopped believing God existed. He simply began questioning whether following Him was worth it.

Belief and trust aren’t always the same thing.

Genesis 3 illustrates this perfectly. Adam and Eve didn’t doubt God’s existence. They walked with Him in the Garden. The serpent’s strategy wasn’t convincing them God wasn’t real. Instead, he convinced them God wasn’t fully good.

The enemy planted distrust.

“If God really loved you,” the serpent implied, “He wouldn’t keep this from you.”

That same lie continues today.

When we compare our lives with others, we begin asking why they seem happier, wealthier, healthier, or more successful. Soon we stop viewing obedience as worship and begin treating it like a contract.

“If I follow God, shouldn’t my life be easier?”

Before long, we’re loving God more for what He can give us than for who He is and what He has already accomplished through Christ.

Our obedience becomes perceived leverage rather than joyful surrender.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Some readers have interpreted Psalm 73 primarily as a meditation on injustice rather than envy. Certainly, Asaph is troubled by the prosperity of wicked people while the righteous suffer. That concern is real and echoed throughout Scripture.

Yet Psalm 73 ultimately shifts the focus inward rather than outward. The greatest problem wasn’t simply that evil people prospered. It was that Asaph’s heart became consumed by what they possessed. His circumstances hadn’t changed, but his perspective had.

The psalm invites us to examine our own hearts before evaluating everyone else’s lives.

The Turn

Everything changes in one remarkable verse.

“But when I went into the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end.” (Psalm 73:17, ESV)

The circumstances haven’t changed. The wicked are still prospering. Asaph’s hardships haven’t disappeared.

What changes is his perspective.

Standing before God reminds him that earthly prosperity is temporary, while eternal joy belongs to those who belong to the Lord.

Corey shared a statement that continues to echo in my mind.

Giving someone what they envy isn’t grace. It’s wrath.

At first, that sounds startling.

But Scripture repeatedly reminds us that God sometimes allows people to pursue the idols they’ve chosen, not as blessing, but as judgment. Receiving everything we want apart from God isn’t mercy. It’s one of the most terrifying possibilities imaginable.

Thankfully, Psalm 73 doesn’t end there.

Instead, Asaph offers one of the most beautiful confessions in all of Scripture.

“Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand.” (Psalm 73:23, ESV)

Even after wandering...

Even after envying...

Even after doubting...

God never let go.

That’s the beauty of grace.

Asaph had nearly slipped.

God hadn’t.

Carry It Into the Week

Psalm 73 reminds us that envy isn’t merely wanting what someone else possesses. It’s forgetting what we already possess in Christ.

The cross forever settles the question of God’s goodness.

When Jesus willingly bore our sin, shame, and judgment on Calvary, He demonstrated once and for all that God is for His people. His sacrifice is sufficient for every sin we have committed, every sin we commit today, and every sin we will commit tomorrow.

That doesn’t minimize the seriousness of sin. Rather, it magnifies the greatness of God’s grace.

No matter how long we have wandered.

No matter how deeply comparison has taken root.

No matter how much distrust has grown in our hearts.

Confession remains the invitation. Repentance remains the path home. We can’t out sin the cross.

When admiration begins pulling your eyes toward what someone else has, remember Psalm 73.

When envy whispers that God has forgotten you, remember Psalm 73.

When distrust tells you that obedience is pointless, remember the empty tomb.

The world offers temporary ease.

Christ offers eternal joy.

And those are never the same thing.

Song of the Week: Anchor - Skillet

Skillet was one of the bands that defined a large part of my musical taste growing up in the early 2000s. Their music always seemed to blend hard hitting rock with messages of hope, perseverance, and faith in a way that stuck with me. While their song “Anchor” was released seven years ago already, its message hasn’t aged at all. In fact, it may be even more relevant today as so many people struggle with uncertainty, anxiety, and the feeling that life is constantly shifting beneath their feet.

The central message of the song isn’t hidden behind complicated metaphors or vague lyrics. It’s right there in the title proclaiming God is our anchor. Throughout Scripture, God is portrayed as our refuge, our rock, and our firm foundation, and the image of an anchor beautifully captures those truths. Storms will come. Waves will crash against us. Circumstances will change. Relationships may fail, jobs may disappear, and plans can unravel in an instant. Yet through every season, God remains steadfast, holding us securely even when everything around us feels unstable.

One aspect of the anchor analogy that has always stood out to me is that an anchor doesn’t prevent the boat from moving altogether. A boat still rises and falls with the waves. It still sways with the wind and the current. Sometimes it even drifts a considerable distance depending on how long the anchor line is. But despite all that movement, it never becomes completely untethered because the anchor is firmly planted beneath the surface.

I think that’s an accurate picture of the Christian life. There are seasons where we feel incredibly close to God. Reading Scripture feels life giving, prayer comes naturally, and His presence seems unmistakable. Then there are other seasons where we feel like we’re drifting. We become distracted by work, weighed down by disappointment, consumed by worry, or simply exhausted by life. During those moments, it can feel as though God is distant when, in reality, He hasn’t moved at all. The anchor is still exactly where it’s always been. We’re simply feeling the length of the line.

Eventually, though, there comes that familiar tug. Sometimes it comes through a sermon that speaks directly into your circumstances. Sometimes it’s a verse you’ve read dozens of times suddenly taking on fresh meaning. It could be a conversation with a friend, a worship song, or even a quiet moment where the Holy Spirit gently reminds you that you’ve been trying to navigate life on your own. That pull isn’t meant to condemn us for drifting. It’s an invitation to return, reminding us that our security has never depended on how tightly we hold onto God, but on how securely He holds onto us.

That’s why “Anchor” continues to resonate with me after all these years. It reminds me that my hope isn’t found in having perfect faith or flawless consistency. My hope is found in the One who never changes. The storms may come and go, and I may find myself drifting farther than I’d like at times, but God remains faithful. His promises remain true, and His grip never loosens.

So whether you feel like you’re standing on solid ground with the Lord today or whether you feel as though you’ve been drifting for weeks, months, or even years, remember that the anchor hasn’t moved. God is still holding you fast. His grace is still available, His mercy is still new every morning, and His invitation remains the same. Grab hold of the line once again, draw near to Him, and you’ll discover that He’s been there all along, faithfully keeping you secure through every storm.

Week in Reflection

This week has been filled with amazing, albeit exhausting, fun and busyness. Monday started with my usual plasma donation before taking some much needed time to rest in preparation for the rest of the week. Tuesday was spent behind the computer writing articles and editing photos from recent events, catching up on the work that often piles up after a busy stretch. Wednesday brought our regular leadership meeting at Connection, a consistent reminder of the privilege and responsibility of serving alongside others in the life of the church. Thursday shifted gears as I headed out for a photography assignment at The District, capturing another evening of live music and creating content that I genuinely enjoy producing. Friday slowed down just enough to take in the new Christopher Nolan film, Odyssey, before the weekend ramped back up. Saturday found me back at The Levitt for another photography opportunity, and as I write this, Sunday holds the possibility of yet another out of town photography assignment, pending final approval.

Looking at the week on paper almost feels overwhelming, but it’s also a reminder of God’s faithfulness. Every opportunity to write, photograph, serve, and create is ultimately a gift from Him. There were moments where I wondered how everything would get done, yet somehow the articles were written, the photos were edited, the deadlines were met, and there was still enough strength to keep moving forward. God has been incredibly gracious not only in providing the energy to accomplish each task but also by surrounding me with people who encourage me, pray for me, and willingly lend a hand when I need it. None of us are meant to carry life’s responsibilities entirely on our own, and this week was another reminder of that truth.

A schedule like this also reinforces just how essential a Sabbath truly is. It’s easy to think of rest merely as recovery from physical exhaustion, but biblical rest goes far beyond simply catching up on sleep or spending a lazy afternoon at home. A Sabbath is an intentional opportunity to pause, step away from productivity, and remember who God is. It’s a chance to open His Word without glancing at the clock, to spend unhurried time in prayer, to worship, and to simply enjoy His presence. Ironically, while physical rest certainly helps recharge the body, I often find that spiritual rest refreshes me even more deeply. There’s something incredibly renewing about slowing down long enough to remember that my identity is found in Christ, not in how much I accomplish in a week.

Yet even during weeks filled with good things, temptation never seems to take a vacation. It’d be nice if serving, writing about God, attending church, or photographing uplifting events somehow made temptation disappear, but Scripture tells us otherwise. The enemy doesn’t always wait until life is falling apart. Sometimes temptation comes in the middle of success, exhaustion, busyness, or even ministry. Fatigue can lower our defenses, making sinful thoughts and desires seem far more appealing than they otherwise would.

That reality has reminded me once again how desperately I need God’s strength every single day. We’re instructed throughout Scripture not to entertain temptation but to flee from it. Too often, though, I find myself lingering longer than I should instead of running toward Christ. My prayer for everyone reading this is that when temptation comes, you would lean on God immediately, seek His strength, and choose obedience rather than trying to fight in your own power. Sadly, I know there are moments where I have failed to do exactly that, this week included.

The encouraging news is that failure is never the end of the story for those who belong to Christ. Every one of us will fall short because every one of us is a sinner in need of God’s grace. None of us will reach perfection this side of eternity. The question isn’t whether we’ll stumble, but how we respond when we do. Do we isolate ourselves in shame, convinced that God no longer wants anything to do with us? Do we allow guilt to keep us distant from the very One who offers forgiveness? Or do we run toward our heavenly Father, confess our sin, repent, and trust once again in the finished work of Jesus Christ?

The gospel reminds us that repentance isn’t about earning our way back into God’s favor. Christ has already accomplished everything necessary through His death and resurrection. Repentance is simply the response of a heart that loves God and desires to walk closely with Him again. Shame tells us to hide, just as Adam and Eve hid in the garden. Grace invites us to step into the light, confess our sin, and experience the forgiveness that has already been secured through Christ.

As another busy week comes to a close, I find myself grateful for God’s provision, thankful for the opportunities He continues to place before me, and humbled by my continual need for His grace. My prayer is that this coming week we would all work diligently, rest intentionally, flee from temptation quickly, and when we inevitably stumble, remember that our Father is always ready to receive those who come to Him with repentant hearts.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Psalm 99 invites us to behold a God unlike any other. His holiness is not distant or cold, but the foundation of His sovereign rule, perfect justice, and gracious invitation to draw near through Jesus Christ.

Based on the sermon by Jaz Terzic, Connection Church Sioux Falls, July 4, 2026.

Sovereign, Just, and Accessible: Meeting the Holy God of Psalm 99

It’s not very often that we get back to back sermons from someone other than Pastor Jonathan, but this week Elder Jaz Terzic returned to continue our Summer in the Psalms series with Psalm 99. Appropriately titled “The Lord Our God Is Holy,” this psalm centers on one of the most defining characteristics of God. The word holy simply means “set apart,” but Psalm 99 reveals that God’s holiness is far more profound than merely being different. It’s the defining reality of who He is.

One illustration immediately resonated with me. Jaz described Psalm 99 as having a “hook,” much like a memorable song. As someone who loves music, that comparison instantly caught my attention. Every great song has a chorus that sticks with you long after the music stops, and Psalm 99 has one as well.

“Holy is he.”

Like any memorable refrain, it repeats throughout the psalm. Jaz even demonstrated how effective hooks are by singing several familiar insurance company jingles, and the congregation instinctively finished each one. That’s exactly what a hook is designed to do. It embeds itself into our memory.

Psalm 99 does something similar, but instead of advertising a product, it engraves a truth into our hearts.

Even more beautifully, this refrain echoes throughout Scripture. Isaiah sees heavenly beings surrounding God’s throne crying, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory” (Isaiah 6:3, ESV). Centuries later, John witnesses the same worship in heaven as the living creatures declare day and night, “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” (Revelation 4:8, ESV).

The World Behind the Text

The threefold declaration of God’s holiness is no accident. In Hebrew literature, repetition emphasizes importance. Saying something twice intensifies it. Saying it three times communicates the highest possible degree.

God is not simply holy.

He is holy, holy, holy.

His holiness is beyond comparison. There is no one like Him because there has never been anyone like Him. He is completely set apart in His perfection, righteousness, justice, power, and glory.

Psalm 99 repeatedly calls God’s people to recognize this reality. The psalm celebrates Him as King, enthroned above the cherubim, ruling over every nation while remaining perfectly righteous in all His ways. His holiness is not one attribute among many. It shapes every other aspect of His character.

Walking the Passage

Jaz organized Psalm 99 around three truths about God’s holiness.

First, God’s Holiness Is Sovereign.

“The Lord reigns; let the peoples tremble!” (Psalm 99:1, ESV).

God’s holiness is displayed through His sovereign rule over all creation. Nothing exists outside His authority. Every nation, every ruler, every season, and every circumstance ultimately falls under His dominion.

One image particularly stood out to me. Jaz reminded us that God’s throne is not portrayed as permanently fixed in one location. Throughout Scripture, God’s throne is depicted as moving, demonstrating that while He is infinitely above creation, He is never absent from it.

That’s encouraging.

God isn’t a distant King watching history unfold from afar. His holiness separates Him from creation, yet His sovereignty allows Him to be actively involved in every detail of our lives. The One who rules the universe is also present with His people.

Second, God’s Holiness Is Just.

“The King in his might loves justice” (Psalm 99:4, ESV).

Justice can sometimes feel elusive in our world. Evil appears to prosper. Wickedness often seems to go unpunished. We long for things to be made right.

Psalm 99 reminds us that justice is never an afterthought for God because it flows directly from His holy nature.

His discipline is always right. His judgments are always fair. His wrath is always righteous.

Modern culture often struggles with God’s wrath, yet His judgment is actually comforting. If God were indifferent toward sin, He wouldn’t be holy. Evil destroys lives, relationships, and communities. Because God is perfectly holy, He promises that evil will not have the final word.

That promise gives believers hope. Every injustice will one day be answered by the perfectly just Judge.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Some readers view Psalm 99 primarily as a celebration of God’s kingship over Israel rather than a passage pointing toward Christ. That observation is certainly true within its original context. The psalm celebrates the covenant God reigning over His chosen people and recalls leaders such as Moses, Aaron, and Samuel who faithfully interceded before Him.

Yet the New Testament consistently presents these faithful Old Testament mediators as foreshadowing something greater. Moses pointed forward to a greater Prophet (Deuteronomy 18:15), and every priest and prophet ultimately anticipated Jesus Christ, our perfect and eternal Mediator. Reading Psalm 99 through the completed story of Scripture does not replace its original meaning. It fulfills it.

The Turn

The final truth Jaz highlighted may be the most comforting of all.

God’s holiness is accessible.

At first glance, that almost sounds contradictory. How can a perfectly holy God be accessible to sinful people?

The answer is found in a mediator.

Psalm 99 recalls Moses, Aaron, and Samuel, individuals who stood between God and His people (Psalm 99:6). Throughout Israel’s history, God graciously provided prophets, priests, and leaders to intercede on behalf of His covenant people.

Moses himself promised that one day God would raise up another prophet like him (Deuteronomy 18:15, ESV).

That promise ultimately finds its fulfillment in Jesus.

Unlike every mediator before Him, Jesus did not simply speak on behalf of God’s people. He became one of us, bore our sins upon Himself, rose victorious over death, and now “is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us” (Romans 8:34, ESV).

The infinitely holy God is now approachable because Christ has made a way.

That doesn’t diminish God’s holiness. It magnifies His grace.

The One who is perfectly holy has invited sinful people into His presence through the finished work of His Son.

Carry It Into the Week

With all of this incredible truth, how should we respond?

Psalm 99 answers that question three separate times.

“Let them praise your great and awesome name! Holy is he!” (Psalm 99:3, ESV).

“Exalt the Lord our God; worship at his footstool! Holy is he!” (Psalm 99:5, ESV).

“Exalt the Lord our God, and worship at his holy mountain; for the Lord our God is holy!” (Psalm 99:9, ESV).

The only appropriate response to God’s holiness is worship.

Not merely singing songs on Sunday morning. Not simply admiring His greatness from a distance. But living lives that continually exalt Him because He alone is worthy.

As I reflected on this sermon, I couldn’t help but think back to Jaz’s illustration about musical hooks. The best songs stay with us long after they end. Their chorus finds its way into our thoughts throughout the week.

May the refrain of Psalm 99 become the chorus our hearts continue singing.

Holy is He.

Holy is He.

Holy is He.

Song of the Week: Perfectly - Micah Tyler

This week the song choice is “Perfectly” by Micah Tyler. This song reminds me of how much we all strive to be perfect in our lives. Whether it’s trying to be the perfect employee, the perfect friend, the perfect parent, the perfect Christian, or simply trying to make it through the day without messing something up, we all carry the weight of expectations. We convince ourselves that if we can just work a little harder, make fewer mistakes, or get our lives together, then maybe we’ll finally be enough.

Spoiler alert: we aren’t, nor can we be.

The only person who has ever lived a perfect life was Jesus Christ. He fulfilled the law completely, never sinned, willingly went to the cross for our failures, rose again, and now reigns forever at the right hand of the Father. His perfection is what makes our salvation possible, because if it depended on our ability to earn it, none of us would have any hope. Romans 3:23 reminds us that “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Every single one of us has missed the mark. Thankfully, the story doesn’t end there. Ephesians 2:8-9 reminds us, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

That truth is exactly what Micah Tyler captures throughout this song. While we continue to pile up failures, God continues to pour out grace. We stumble, yet He remains faithful. We wander, yet He welcomes us home with open arms. We question our worth, yet He continually reminds us that our identity isn’t found in our performance but in what Christ has already accomplished.

The line that gets me every single time comes in the final stanza of the second verse. Micah sings that we don’t deserve God’s love because we have nothing to offer, yet God takes us in anyway. Not merely as someone to rescue, but as a friend. That thought is overwhelming when you really sit with it. The Creator of the universe doesn’t simply tolerate us because He has to. Through Christ, He invites us into a relationship with Him. Jesus says in John 15:15, “No longer do I call you servants... but I have called you friends.” That isn’t because we’ve earned the title. It’s because His grace is far greater than our failures.

I think that’s one of the biggest lies we battle as believers. We often think God loves a future, improved version of ourselves more than He loves us today. We imagine He’s waiting for us to finally clean ourselves up before He’ll fully embrace us. The gospel says the exact opposite. Christ met us at our worst. Romans 5:8 says, “but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Before we ever thought about following Him, He had already made a way for us to come home.

So be reminded today that you will fail in some way, shape, or form. I certainly will too. We will never be perfect, and we will never do enough to deserve God’s grace or His love. But that’s the beauty of the gospel. God’s love has never depended on our perfection. It has always depended on His. Because of Jesus, we are loved, forgiven, welcomed, and adopted into God’s family. Not because of what we’ve done, but because of what Christ has already finished. And if you ask me, that’s really good news.

Week in Reflection

This week marked the end of firework season and the return to some semblance of a routine. While the 80 hours at the firework stand was exhausting and physically demanding, it was also a lot of fun and a blessing to help a friend with his business. Every year it reminds me that work comes in many forms. Some seasons are physically demanding, others are mentally taxing, and some are emotionally draining, but every season gives us opportunities to glorify God through faithfulness. Whether we are serving customers at a firework stand, sitting behind a desk, or simply being present for those around us, our work matters because it can all be done for the Lord. Colossians 3:23-24 reminds us, “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ.”

Coming back to the “real world” after a week and a half away is always a bit of a shock. The early morning alarms return, the inbox fills back up, meetings resume, and the rhythm of daily responsibilities takes some time to settle into again. It’s easy to think that our relationship with God is somehow stronger during the unusual seasons because they break up the monotony of everyday life. But I’ve been reminded this week that God isn’t only present in the exciting moments or on the mountaintops. He is just as present in Monday morning routines as He is during vacations, conferences, mission trips, or special events. His faithfulness doesn’t fluctuate with our schedules. Lamentations 3:22-23 says, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Even when life returns to what feels ordinary, God’s mercies are anything but ordinary.

We are also halfway through our leadership meetings where I am reading Gospel Fluency and The Gospel Comes with a House Key. Both books have been incredibly challenging in the best possible way, and I would recommend them to anyone looking for practical ways to grow deeper in living on mission for Christ. It’s one thing to understand the gospel intellectually, but it’s another thing entirely to allow it to shape the way we speak, serve, invite others into our lives, and love our neighbors. Reading through these books has reignited a fire in my faith and has made me more intentional about the everyday conversations I have. The Great Commission in Matthew 28:19-20 wasn’t given only to pastors or missionaries. Every believer has been called to make disciples wherever God has placed them, whether that’s in the workplace, around the dinner table, in the neighborhood, or while standing behind a firework counter.

This week also brought some wonderful time spent with old friends, along with the opportunity to build new friendships. It’s amazing how God orchestrates relationships. Sometimes someone enters your life unexpectedly and within a short time feels like a lifelong friend. Other friendships have stood the test of time, remaining strong even when distance or life circumstances separate you. These relationships are gifts from God that remind us we were never meant to walk through life alone. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 says, “Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow.” Christian community is one of God’s greatest blessings. We encourage one another, sharpen one another, celebrate together, and carry one another through difficult seasons.

As I reflect on this week, I’m reminded that faithfulness is often found in the ordinary. It’s found in returning to work with a grateful heart, intentionally pursuing Christ through His Word, investing in friendships, and looking for opportunities to share the hope of the gospel in everyday conversations. Our routines may seem repetitive, but God can use ordinary faithfulness to accomplish extraordinary things in His kingdom.

My prayer is that everyone reading this would find rest in the routines God has given them instead of constantly longing for the next big thing. I pray that you would be intentional about growing in your relationship with Christ, allowing the gospel to shape not only what you believe but how you live. And I pray that you wouldn’t take for granted the friendships God has placed in your life. They are gifts of His grace, reminders that we were created for community, and opportunities to encourage one another as we all continue to follow Jesus together. May we remember that no season is wasted when it is lived for the glory of God.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Psalm 91 isn’t a promise of a painless life. It’s a promise that those who belong to God never face life's dangers alone. His protection is found not merely in what He does for us, but in His presence with us.

Based on the sermon by Jaz Terzic, Connection Church Sioux Falls, June 28, 2026.

The Fortress and the Wings: Understanding God's Protection

This week, elder Jaz Terzic led us through Psalm 91, a passage many Bible readers instinctively turn to during seasons of uncertainty. Most Bibles title it “My Refuge and My Fortress,” but Jaz summarized its central message with an even simpler phrase. The God of Protection.

Psalm 91 overflows with images describing who God is for His people. He’s a fortress that cannot be shaken, a refuge that cannot be overcome, and a shield against every enemy. Yet in the same psalm, God is also compared to a mother bird sheltering her young beneath her wings.

At first glance those images seem almost contradictory.

How can the same God be portrayed as both an immovable fortress and a gentle bird?

The answer is found in the person of Jesus Christ.

The God who possesses all authority over heaven and earth willingly humbled Himself by taking on flesh. Philippians tells us that although Christ was in the form of God, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to death on a cross (Philippians 2:6-8). The strength of God is displayed in His victory over sin and death, while His gentleness is displayed in willingly absorbing the judgment we rightfully deserved.

Psalm 91 points us toward both realities.

God protects with overwhelming power, yet He also protects with overwhelming compassion.

The World Behind the Text

Psalm 91 never promises that believers will avoid hardship.

That’s one of the most important observations Jaz made throughout the sermon.

Many people approach this psalm as though it guarantees physical safety from every illness, disaster, or tragedy. Yet Scripture consistently teaches that faithful believers still experience suffering. Even Jesus Himself endured rejection, persecution, betrayal, torture, and death.

Instead, Psalm 91 shifts our perspective.

Rather than minimizing our fears, it magnifies the One who stands above them.

The psalmist writes,

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.” (Psalm 91:1, ESV)

The key word is “dwells.”

Protection isn’t portrayed as merely receiving blessings from God but living in relationship with Him.

Throughout the psalm, danger is acknowledged repeatedly. Pestilence, arrows, terror, destruction, disease, lions, serpents, and enemies all appear throughout its verses. Scripture never pretends those threats are imaginary.

Instead, God’s presence becomes greater than every threat.

The refuge is not found in the absence of danger.

The refuge is God Himself.

Walking the Passage

One distinction Jaz shared completely changed the way I think about Psalm 91.

The psalm doesn’t belittle our fears. It changes our response because of the size of our Helper.

Fear itself isn’t the enemy.

Every person experiences fear because we recognize our limitations. We fear disease because we can’t control it. We fear loss because we can’t prevent it. We fear death because it reminds us how fragile we are.

The Bible repeatedly tells God’s people, “Fear not,” because our circumstances have changed in light of who God is.

Yet another apparent paradox enters the conversation.

If one of the Bible’s most repeated commands is “Do not fear,” then how do we reconcile that with Proverbs 9:10?

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight.”

Should we fear or shouldn’t we?

Jesus answers that question directly.

Jaz pointed us to Luke 12:4-7, where Jesus says,

“I tell you, my friends, do not fear those who kill the body, and after that have nothing more that they can do. But I will warn you whom to fear: fear him who, after he has killed, has authority to cast into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear him!” (Luke 12:4-5, ESV)

Jesus isn’t contradicting the command to avoid fear.

He’s redirecting it.

Every human being fears something. Some fear failure. Others fear rejection. Others fear financial insecurity, illness, loneliness, or death.

Jesus teaches that every lesser fear should be overwhelmed by a greater one. The reverent awe before the Holy God.

Biblical fear of the Lord isn’t terror that causes us to run away.

It’s reverence that causes us to run toward Him.

When God becomes the greatest object of our reverence, every other fear begins shrinking into its proper place.

That’s exactly what Psalm 91 teaches.

God does not remove reality.

He transforms perspective.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Psalm 91 has sometimes been interpreted as a guarantee that faithful believers will always experience physical protection if they trust God enough.

While understandable, that interpretation struggles to account for the rest of Scripture.

Many faithful servants of God suffered persecution, imprisonment, disease, and even martyrdom. The apostles themselves faced extraordinary hardships, and Jesus warned His followers that they would experience tribulation in this world (John 16:33).

Even more significantly, Satan quoted Psalm 91 while tempting Jesus in the wilderness, encouraging Him to throw Himself from the temple because God had promised His angels would protect Him (Matthew 4:5-6). Jesus refused to misuse God’s promises, responding that we must not put the Lord to the test (Matthew 4:7).

This reminds us that Psalm 91 isn’t permission for reckless living or a guarantee of earthly comfort. Instead, it assures believers that no suffering, trial, or even death can separate God’s people from His sovereign care. His protection is ultimately fulfilled in His eternal purposes, not necessarily in temporary comfort.

The Turn

Another observation Jaz highlighted was something I had never noticed before.

Throughout Psalm 91, the word “you” appears in the singular.

These promises are deeply personal.

They’re directed toward individual believers who personally know, trust, and fear the Lord.

That doesn’t diminish the importance of the church community. Instead, it reminds us that saving faith can’t be inherited.

No one enters God’s protection because of their parents’ faith, their spouse’s faith, or even their church attendance.

Relationship with God is personal.

Verse 14 says,

“Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name.” (Psalm 91:14, ESV)

Notice how relational every phrase is.

Holds fast.

Loves.

Knows.

God isn’t describing a transaction.

He’s describing a relationship. That relationship was ultimately secured through Jesus Christ.

On the cross, Jesus experienced abandonment so that everyone who trusts Him would never be abandoned again. He bore God’s judgment so that those who belong to Him would forever dwell beneath His protective care.

The fortress and the wings meet perfectly at Calvary.

Power and mercy become one.

Carry It Into the Week

The greatest encouragement I took away from this sermon was that God’s protection isn’t measured by whether life becomes easy.

It’s measured by His unchanging presence.

When anxiety rises, He remains our refuge.

When illness comes, He remains our refuge.

When uncertainty fills tomorrow, He remains our refuge.

Even when death eventually comes for everyone, Christ has already conquered the grave.

Paul reminds us,

“If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31, ESV)

The fears of this world are real.

Psalm 91 never denies that.

Instead, it introduces us to Someone infinitely greater.

The fear of the Lord eclipses every lesser fear because our Protector isn’t simply stronger than our enemies.

He is the Creator of every power, every nation, every circumstance, and every breath we take.

Those who belong to Christ don’t walk through life unprotected.

They walk through life with the God who promises,

“I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him.” (Psalm 91:15, ESV)

That may not remove every storm.

But it reminds us that we never face one alone.

Song of the Week: I’d Do It Again - Andrew Ripp

To me, Andrew Ripp’s “I’d Do It Again” is the perfect reminder and depiction of God’s love for us. There really isn’t much to unpack because the message is beautifully straightforward. The song doesn’t hide behind complicated metaphors or vague imagery. It boldly declares the Gospel truth that God’s love for us is so great that everything Jesus endured was worth it in His eyes. Not because the cross was easy, but because of what it accomplished. Our redemption was worth every moment of suffering.

What makes the song especially powerful is how it paints the picture of Jesus looking back on every agonizing detail of His journey to the cross. He remembers the betrayal from one of His closest friends. He remembers being abandoned by those who promised to stand beside Him. He remembers the mocking, the false accusations, the crown of thorns pressed into His head, the nails driven through His hands and feet, the unbearable weight of the cross, and the darkness of Calvary. None of those memories are softened or erased. They are vivid, painful, and real.

Yet after remembering every wound, every drop of blood, and every ounce of suffering, His response isn’t regret. It’s not hesitation. It’s simply, “I’d do it again.”

That thought is almost impossible for us to comprehend. Most of us try to avoid pain whenever possible. If we know something will hurt us, we naturally look for another path. But Jesus willingly walked toward the cross knowing exactly what awaited Him. He wasn’t surprised by the suffering. He chose it. As John 15:13 reminds us, “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” Jesus demonstrated the greatest love imaginable by laying down His life for people who could never earn or deserve it.

The beauty of this song is that it personalizes that sacrifice. It’s easy to think of Jesus dying for humanity as a whole, but Scripture makes it personal. Romans 5:8 says, “but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Before we cleaned up our lives, before we ever sought Him, before we had anything to offer, Christ willingly gave Himself for us.

When I listen to this song, I can’t help but be humbled. It’s difficult to wrap my mind around the idea that someone could love another person enough to willingly endure crucifixion even once, let alone say they would do it again if that’s what it took to rescue them. Yet that’s exactly the heart of God. His love isn’t based on our performance or our worthiness. It flows from His unchanging character. The cross wasn’t a reluctant obligation. It was the greatest display of love the world has ever, and will ever see.

That’s why “I’d Do It Again” hits so deeply for me. It serves as a reminder that every time I question whether God loves me, I don’t have to wonder. The answer has already been written in blood on the cross. Jesus knew the cost, accepted the suffering, endured the cross, and if rescuing us required it all over again, His answer would still be yes. That kind of love is beyond human understanding, and that’s exactly what makes it so amazing.

Week in Reflection

This week marked the annual fireworks side job that I’ve been doing with a friend from church for the past couple of years through Fire Bros. It’s become one of those traditions that I genuinely look forward to every summer. While it’s nice to step away from my normal 9-to-5 for a week, calling it a “break” would definitely be misleading. If anything, the workload just changes. Instead of sitting at a desk, the days are spent outside in the summer heat, helping customers, stocking product, keeping displays organized, and working long hours from open to close. By the end of each day, you’re physically exhausted, but it’s the kind of tired that comes from knowing you put in an honest day’s work.

One of the things I appreciate most about this opportunity is that it’s built on friendship and trust. My friend has enough confidence in me to bring me back every year and give me responsibilities that help keep everything running smoothly. That means a lot because trust isn’t something that should ever be taken for granted. It’s also been a fun way to spend time with someone from church outside of our usual Sunday interactions. We get to laugh, solve problems together, and serve hundreds of customers who are all excited to celebrate Independence Day with their families. Seeing kids light up while picking out fountains or hearing parents reminisce about fireworks they grew up with reminds me that, in a small way, we’re helping people create memories together.

Of course, I certainly won’t complain about the extra income either. Between photography, ministry opportunities, and the normal expenses of everyday life, it’s always a blessing to have a little additional financial breathing room. Even so, by the time July 4 finally arrives, I’m usually more than ready for a couple of days where I don’t have to stand in the sun for ten hours straight. The long days are worth it, but I’ll definitely be looking forward to slowing down, catching my breath, and enjoying some much needed rest once the holiday is over.

While fireworks dominated most of my week, I also received some very disappointing news that caught me completely off guard. Since February, I had been incredibly excited about covering the Forrest Frank concert in my area after receiving media approval months in advance. Everything seemed to be in place. The approvals had come through, plans had been made, and I had even signed the required contract. Then, because of a change in the tour’s media policy, those approvals were unexpectedly rescinded.

My first reaction, if I’m being honest, was frustration. I was angry, disappointed, and honestly a little shocked that something that had seemed so settled could simply disappear. After months of anticipation, it felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me. It’s a difficult reminder that in the concert photography world, nothing is truly guaranteed until you’re actually standing inside the venue with your camera in hand. No matter how official something feels, circumstances can change beyond your control.

As the initial disappointment began to wear off, though, I started seeing the situation through a different lens (no pun intended). One thing I’ve been learning over the past few years in my walk with Christ is that dwelling on what I can’t control rarely accomplishes anything. Instead, I’ve tried to look for the ways God may be working even through a closed door.

Because I no longer have to make the trip, I’m able to cancel the PTO I had scheduled from work and save it for another opportunity later this year. That’s a gift in itself. I also won’t be spending money on gas, hotel accommodations, meals, and all the travel expenses that come with covering an out of town concert. While I would’ve gladly spent that money for an artist I was excited to photograph, keeping those resources available may end up opening the door for something else entirely.

Who knows? Maybe another concert, another assignment, or another opportunity that I can’t even see yet will come along because of this change in plans. I’ve experienced enough unexpected blessings over the last couple of years to know that God often closes one door while quietly preparing another that I never would have considered on my own.

It’s easy to praise God when everything goes according to plan. It’s much harder when plans suddenly change without warning. Yet this week reminded me that God’s goodness isn’t dependent on whether my schedule works out the way I had hoped. He’s still faithful when opportunities disappear. He’s still providing when disappointments come. He’s still worthy of praise when the answer is “no” instead of “yes.”

So while I won’t be photographing Forrest Frank this time around, I’m choosing to trust that God knows something I don’t. Maybe this unexpected change is protecting me from something, preparing me for something better, or simply teaching me once again to hold my plans loosely. Whatever the reason, I can rest in knowing that His plans are always better than mine, even when I don’t understand them in the moment. Sometimes the bright side isn’t immediately obvious, but if we’re willing to look long enough, God’s fingerprints have a way of showing up in even the most disappointing circumstances.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Psalm 50 reminds us that God isn’t impressed by outward religious performance divorced from genuine faith. Before judgment comes an invitation to repent, to abandon transactional religion, and to rediscover the joy of walking with the God who desires our hearts.

Based on the sermon by Traye LaMere, Connection Church Sioux Falls, June 21, 2026.

The Difference Between Knowing God and Knowing About God

Few things are more sobering than the realization that it’s possible to look religious while being spiritually distant from God. We can attend church, volunteer, memorize Scripture, give generously, and still miss the very relationship those practices were meant to cultivate.

This week at Connection Church, Deacon Traye LeMere guided us through Psalm 50, a psalm often titled “God Himself Is Judge.” Rather than focusing primarily on the fascinating literary placement of Psalm 50 among the Psalms of Asaph, the sermon centered on the heart of God’s warning to His people. It’s a message that remains just as relevant today as when Asaph first penned these words.

Psalm 50 presents God as the righteous Judge. Yet what unfolds isn’t merely a courtroom drama. It’s a gracious warning before the verdict is finalized. God exposes empty religion not because He delights in condemnation, but because He desires repentance.

The World Behind the Text

Psalm 50 opens with a majestic picture of God’s authority.

“The Mighty One, God the Lord, speaks and summons the earth from the rising of the sun to its setting.” (Psalm 50:1, ESV)

God gathers His covenant people before Him. At first glance it appears they’re being commended for faithfully bringing sacrifices. But God quickly reveals that sacrifices were never the issue.

“I will not accept a bull from your house or goats from your folds.” (Psalm 50:9, ESV)

The Lord reminds Israel that every animal already belongs to Him. He has no need for their offerings because He owns all creation.

The problem was never the sacrifices themselves. The problem was that the people believed their religious activity somehow obligated God while their hearts remained far from Him.

The sacrifices had become transactional instead of relational.

Walking the Passage

One of the most challenging moments of the sermon came when Traye contrasted two groups of people using Jesus’ own words.

The first group comes from Matthew 7:21-23. These are people who appear incredibly faithful. They prophesy, perform miracles, cast out demons, and point to all the impressive things they’ve done for God.

Yet Jesus responds with devastating words.

“And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’” (Matthew 7:23, ESV)

Notice that Jesus doesn’t say He never knew about them. He says He never knew them.

The issue is relationship.

The second group comes from Matthew 25:41-46. These individuals consistently rejected Christ throughout their lives. When judgment arrives, Jesus simply confirms the separation they had already chosen.

Traye illustrated this distinction with a scene from The Godfather. In the film, people approach the powerful Don Corleone only when they need something. They ignore the relationship until life falls apart, then suddenly seek justice and favor.

That picture is uncomfortable because it often mirrors our own hearts.

How often do we seek God only after exhausting every worldly solution?

How often do we pursue success, comfort, relationships, finances, or control first, only turning to Christ when everything else disappoints?

Even as believers, we can subtly drift into treating prayer like customer service instead of communion with our Father.

We want God’s blessings without always desiring God’s presence.

Psalm 50 lovingly exposes that tendency.

God isn’t interested in being our last resort. He desires to be our greatest treasure.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Some readers may wonder whether Psalm 50 teaches that sacrifices and acts of worship are unimportant. That would miss the larger biblical picture.

Throughout the Old Testament, God Himself instituted the sacrificial system. Likewise, throughout the New Testament, believers are repeatedly called to gather, serve, pray, give generously, and obey Christ.

The issue is never faithful obedience.

The issue is believing that external obedience can replace inward devotion.

Jesus echoed this same concern when He quoted Isaiah.

“This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.” (Matthew 15:8, ESV)

Biblical faith has always united both right worship and right hearts.

The Turn

Perhaps the most encouraging truth from Psalm 50 is that it’s not the final verdict.

Near the end of the psalm comes an invitation.

“Mark this, then, you who forget God, lest I tear you apart, and there be none to deliver! The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies me; to one who orders his way rightly I will show the salvation of God!” (Psalm 50:22-23, ESV)

The warning comes before the judgment.

God calls His people back while there’s still time.

Even more beautiful is what immediately follows with Psalm 51 recording David’s prayer of repentance after his sin with Bathsheba.

That placement is no accident.

Psalm 50 confronts.

Psalm 51 confesses.

God’s warning always leaves room for grace.

The Gospel follows the same pattern.

Our sin is fully exposed, but Christ has already borne the judgment we deserve. Through His death and resurrection, repentance is no longer simply turning away from sin. It’s turning toward the Savior who welcomes sinners with open arms.

The Judge has also become our Redeemer.

Carry It Into the Week

Psalm 50 invites us to examine our own hearts.

Do we pursue Jesus because we love Him, or because we hope He will give us what we want?

Do we trust Him only after every worldly solution has failed?

Are our prayers conversations with our Father, or merely requests when life becomes difficult?

None of us gets this perfectly right.

Every one of us has moments where our relationship with Christ becomes transactional. We drift toward self reliance, then remember God when our plans collapse.

Thankfully, Psalm 50 doesn’t leave us in despair.

It points us toward repentance.

Like David in Psalm 51, we can confess our sin, receive God’s mercy, and begin walking closely with Him once again.

May we never settle for knowing about Jesus while failing to truly know Him.

May we seek His heart before His hand.

May we treasure the relationship made possible through the Gospel above every blessing He gives.

Because in the end, the greatest gift God offers isn’t simply justice, forgiveness, or provision.

It’s Himself.

Song of the Week: Good - Matthew West

Matthew West’s “Good” has some of the most hopeful words that remind me of the truth of God’s love, and I’m here for it. If I’m ever feeling down about not being good enough, or wrestling with the feeling of failure that so often comes from the culture of the world, the end of the chorus speaks truth that completely dismantles that mindset, “I’m not loved because I’m worthy, I’m loved because You’re good.” What a powerful reminder. The world constantly tells us that our value is tied to our performance, our accomplishments, our appearance, or how much we can contribute. If we succeed, we feel valuable. If we fail, we feel worthless. But the Gospel operates on an entirely different foundation.

God’s love for us has never been based on our ability to earn it. If it were, none of us would qualify. Scripture tells us that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. His love is rooted in His character, not our performance. That means our worst mistakes can’t make Him love us less, and our greatest achievements can’t make Him love us more. His mercy isn’t a reward for good behavior. It’s a gift given through grace to those who place their faith in Christ. The cross settled that once and for all.

The second half of the song also points listeners toward one of the most relatable passages in all of Scripture when Paul writes in Romans 7:15-20 about his battle with sin. Paul openly admits that he often does the very things he hates and fails to do the things he knows he should. It’s an honest confession that everyone can identify with. No matter how long we’ve followed Christ, there are still moments when we stumble, fall into temptation, or choose selfishness over obedience. Sin has a way of disrupting our intentions and pulling us away from the life God desires for us.

Yet the beauty of the Gospel is found in those two simple words. But mercy. Paul’s struggle in Romans 7 isn’t the end of the story. Romans 8 immediately follows with the incredible declaration that there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Even when we fail, God’s mercy meets us there. Even when we stumble, His grace is sufficient. The enemy wants us to sit in shame and believe that our failures define us, but God continually reminds us that our identity is found in Christ, not in our inevitable mistakes.

That doesn’t mean sin is excused or ignored. Rather, it means that when we repent and turn back to Him, we’re met with forgiveness instead of rejection. God’s mercy removes the crushing weight of shame and replaces it with the assurance that we’re still His children. We’re still loved. We’re still redeemed. We’re still being transformed by His grace.

That is why this song resonates with me. It points me away from myself and back to the goodness of God. On the days when we feel like we have everything together and on the days when we feel like we’re falling apart, the truth remains the same, that we’re not loved because we’re worthy. We’re loved because He is good. And that truth never changes.

Week in Reflection

This week truly felt like summer had finally arrived. Between spending more time outdoors and gathering with our Bible study for our monthly summer gathering, there was a refreshing change of pace that seemed to invite both rest and reflection. There really are no words that fully capture the beauty of God’s creation when you step away from the distractions of everyday life and simply experience it. Whether it’s taking in the sights and sounds of a hike or sitting in a backyard surrounded by friends, laughter, and conversation, there were countless reminders of God’s handiwork all around.

It’s amazing how often we rush through life without noticing the world God has placed us in. The colors of a sunset, the vastness of the sky, the intricate details of trees and flowers, and even the simple joy of a warm summer evening all point back to a Creator who delights in beauty. We live on a planet filled with wonders that many of us rarely stop to appreciate. Spending time outside this week reminded me that creation itself is an act of worship, constantly declaring God’s glory whether we pay attention to it or not. Sometimes the best way to reconnect with the Lord is simply to slow down long enough to notice what He’s already placed right in front of us.

Another interesting reflection came from an unexpected source this week. A friend and I went to the new movie Disclosure Day, directed by Steven Spielberg. The premise centers around the existence of extraterrestrial life and what would happen if that reality were announced to the world. While the science fiction elements were entertaining, what stuck with me most was a conversation in the film about faith. One character struggles with how the possibility of aliens would fit into their belief in God. Another character responds by pointing out that Genesis is focused on God’s relationship with humanity and life on Earth, not necessarily every corner of the universe. The discussion then raises a fascinating question. Why would God create an unimaginably vast cosmos if Earth was the only place inhabited by intelligent life?

It’s one of those conversations that doesn’t necessarily have a definitive answer, but it’s interesting to think about. The sheer size of the universe certainly inspires wonder and humility. Yet the more I reflected on it, the more I realized that the existence or nonexistence of extraterrestrial life has no impact on the foundation of my faith. My belief rests on who God is, what Christ accomplished through His death and resurrection, and the truth revealed in Scripture. If one day humanity discovers intelligent life elsewhere in the universe, God will still be God. Jesus will still be King. The Gospel will still be true.

In some ways, the discussion reminded me just how small we are in the grand scope of creation and yet how deeply loved we are by the Creator of it all. Whether we are alone in the universe or one part of a much larger story, the reality remains the same that God created all things, sustains all things, and has provided salvation through Christ. That’s a truth that doesn’t change based on scientific discoveries or unanswered questions. While it can be fun to speculate about what might be out there among the stars, my confidence ultimately rests in the One who created the stars themselves.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Psalm 42 and 43 give voice to the ache of spiritual depression while refusing to leave us there. These psalms teach us that even in our deepest sorrow, hope is found by preaching God's truth to our hearts and trusting His sovereign hand.

Based on the sermon by Nathan Schaap, Connection Church Sioux Falls, June 14, 2026.

Hope in the Dark: Preaching the Gospel to Your Pain

This week at Connection Church, Elder Nathan Schaap guided us through Psalms 42 and 43. While divided into two chapters in our modern Bibles, many scholars believe these were originally one unified Psalm. The repeated refrain found in both chapters supports that idea.

“Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God” (Psalm 42:5, ESV).

At first glance, these Psalms can feel surprisingly heavy. The writer is discouraged, overwhelmed, grieving, and spiritually exhausted. Yet woven through every verse is a stubborn hope that refuses to die.

Nathan opened with an illustration from the television series Mad Men. In one memorable scene, advertising executive Don Draper describes nostalgia as something deeper than memory. It’s an ache. A longing for something that once was. A desire to return to a place of comfort, joy, or belonging.

That longing is all over Psalms 42 and 43.

The psalmist remembers worshiping with God’s people. He remembers joy. He remembers nearness to God. Yet his current reality feels painfully different. He’s spiritually thirsty and emotionally exhausted.

“As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God” (Psalm 42:1, ESV).

Many people know exactly what that feels like, whether they will admit it or not.

The World Behind the Text

One reason these psalms resonate is because they refuse to pretend that faith eliminates suffering.

The Bible never teaches that following God means living free from sorrow. In fact, Scripture repeatedly shows faithful men and women walking through seasons of profound grief, doubt, loneliness, and despair.

The psalmist openly admits his tears have become his food day and night (Psalm 42:3). He describes waves and breakers crashing over him (Psalm 42:7). He feels forgotten and oppressed (Psalm 42:9). He longs for God’s presence while wrestling with the reality of his pain.

An Old Testament scholar once used these psalms as the foundation for a book on spiritual depression, describing the strange beauty found within seasons of sorrow. That may sound like a contradiction, but Scripture repeatedly reveals that God often does some of His deepest work in our darkest valleys.

Pain is real.

Depression is real.

Grief is real.

Yet none of those realities have the final word. The psalmist doesn’t deny his suffering. Instead, he brings his suffering before God.

Biblical faith isn’t pretending everything is fine. Biblical faith is bringing everything that’s not fine directly to the Lord.

Walking the Passage

One of the most striking aspects of these psalms is that the writer talks to himself. Not in the sense of losing control, but in the sense of preaching truth to his own heart.

Three times he repeats the same refrain,

“Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God” (Psalm 42:5, ESV).

Notice what’s happening.

His emotions are speaking loudly. His circumstances are difficult. His sorrow is genuine.

Yet he refuses to let his feelings become the ultimate authority.

Instead, he challenges his despair with truth.

This is one of the great lessons of Psalms 42 and 43. We must allow our minds to speak truth to our emotions rather than allowing our emotions to dictate truth to our minds.

That doesn’t mean ignoring feelings. It means placing them under the authority of God’s promises.

The psalmist is essentially preaching the Gospel to his own pain.

He reminds himself that God is still worthy of praise.

He reminds himself that God is still present.

He reminds himself that God is still sovereign.

Most importantly, he reminds himself that his current suffering is not the end of the story.

For Christians today, that confidence is anchored in Jesus Christ.

We know that God entered human suffering Himself. Jesus was betrayed by a friend. He was falsely accused. He was beaten and mocked. He was crucified on a Roman cross.

He experienced unimaginable suffering.

Yet through His death and resurrection, He accomplished the salvation of His people and defeated sin and death forever.

As Peter writes,

“He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed” (1 Peter 2:24, ESV).

The resurrection reminds us that God specializes in bringing life out of places that appear hopeless.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Some readers may worry that emphasizing hope in suffering minimizes the reality of depression or emotional pain.

That concern deserves careful consideration.

Scripture never suggests that depression is solved by simply trying harder, praying more, or pretending to be happy. The psalmist himself spends two entire chapters expressing grief, confusion, and longing.

The biblical answer isn’t denial. The biblical answer is hope.

Hope doesn’t erase suffering overnight. Hope sustains us through suffering by reminding us that God remains faithful even when our emotions tell us otherwise.

For some, this journey may include counseling, medical care, trusted friendships, pastoral guidance, or all of the above. God’s common grace often works through many means.

The message of Psalms 42 and 43 is not that sorrow disappears instantly.

The message is that sorrow never gets the final word.

The Turn

Nathan reminded us that even our sorrow exists under God’s sovereign control.

That truth can be difficult to accept when we’re in the middle of pain, but Scripture consistently affirms it.

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28, ESV).

Notice that Paul doesn’t say all things are good. Many things aren’t.

Divorce is painful. Loss is painful.

Loneliness is painful. Disappointment is painful.

Yet God remains at work through all of it.

I can personally testify to this reality.

The darkest season of my life came during and after my own divorce. I experienced loneliness unlike anything I had known before. At the time, I couldn’t fully see what God was doing.

Looking back now, I can see His hand all over that season.

God used my brokenness to point me toward the local church. He drew me into deeper community. He surrounded me with believers who know me, encourage me, challenge me, and walk beside me.

Most importantly, He deepened my dependence upon Him.

What once felt like abandonment became a pathway to greater intimacy with Christ.

Scripture is filled with similar stories.

Joseph was sold into slavery by his own brothers before being elevated to a position where he would save countless lives (Genesis 50:20).

Jonah ran from God’s calling, was swallowed by a great fish, and ultimately became part of God’s work of bringing Nineveh to repentance (Jonah 3:5).

Most importantly, Jesus himself endured the cross before the glory of the resurrection. What looked like defeat became the greatest victory in human history.

God has always been in the business of redeeming what appears hopeless.

Carry It Into the Week

Psalms 42 and 43 remind us that Christians don’t ignore pain. We bring it before God.

We acknowledge our sorrow.

We confess our struggles.

We lament fully and honestly.

But we don’t stay there.

We preach truth to our own hearts.

We remind ourselves of God’s character.

We remember His faithfulness.

We place our hope in Christ.

When the waves feel overwhelming, remember the refrain of these psalms,

“Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God” (Psalm 43:5, ESV).

Your emotions are real.

Your pain matters.

Your suffering is not invisible to God.

But neither is your future.

In Christ, despair is never the final chapter.

Song of the Week: GOOD DAY - Forrest Frank

Since this series started, I’m actually surprised it’s taken 32 weeks for Forrest Frank to earn the Song of the Week spot. Forrest has played a significant role in my journey of becoming more intentional about filling my mind with music that points me toward Christ. I first stumbled across his music while scrolling through TikTok, and before long, his songs found their way into my daily playlists. Out of all the songs that introduced me to his music, “Good Day” was the one that started it all.

At first glance, the song almost seems too simple. The message is straightforward regarding today being a good day. But the longer you sit with those words, the more you realize how difficult they can be to live out. It’s easy to declare a good day when everything is going according to plan. It’s much harder when life feels uncertain, prayers seem unanswered, relationships are strained, or circumstances are anything but ideal. Yet that’s exactly where the heart of this song shines.

The reason today can be a good day has nothing to do with our circumstances and everything to do with who God is. Forrest points listeners back to a truth that’s both humbling and encouraging. The God who created the universe knows us personally. The same God who spoke galaxies into existence knows our names, sees our struggles, hears our prayers, and walks with us through every moment. When that truth truly sinks in, it changes how we view our day. Our confidence no longer rests in what happens to us but in the One who is with us.

Unfortunately, many people struggle to believe that. We can intellectually agree that God loves us while still living as if we’re carrying our burdens alone. We worry about tomorrow, question His timing, and wonder if He’s forgotten about us. When doors close, opportunities disappear, or prayers seem delayed, it can be tempting to believe God is absent. But Scripture continually reminds us that God is always at work, even when we can’t see it.

Looking back on my own life, some of the moments that felt like disappointments ended up becoming some of God’s greatest blessings. What I thought was a setback was often His protection. What I viewed as a delay was usually preparation. His plans rarely unfold according to my preferred timeline, but they’ve always proven better than what I would have chosen for myself.

That’s why the message of “Good Day” resonates so deeply for me. It’s not a call to ignore hardships or pretend everything is perfect. It’s a declaration of trust. It’s choosing to believe that God is good even when life is difficult. It’s waking up and remembering that no matter what happens, the Lord is still on His throne, still working all things according to His purpose, and still holding His children in His hands.

So yes, today is a good day. Not because everything is easy. Not because every prayer has already been answered. Not because life is unfolding exactly how we planned. Today is a good day because God is faithful. He knows your name, He knows your story, and He is writing something greater than you can even imagine. Sometimes His plans look different than what we expected, but they are always marked by His wisdom, love, and goodness. And when we learn to trust that truth, we begin to realize that every day can be a good day when it’s lived in the presence of the One who holds the universe together.

Week in Reflection

This week was jam packed with God centered activities, both locally and throughout the surrounding area. First up was RiseFest. This annual Christian music festival celebrated its 20th year in 2026 and shattered attendance records with more than 30,000 people gathering over the course of the weekend. Deep dives into both days will be live soon, so stay tuned for those separate articles. But even before talking about specific artists, songs, or moments, there is something incredibly powerful about simply standing in a crowd of that size and hearing thousands upon thousands of voices singing praises to the Lord together. In a world that often feels divided and disconnected, events like RiseFest serve as a reminder that the body of Christ is far bigger than our local churches, communities, or even denominations. For two days, people from all walks of life came together with one purpose: to worship Jesus. The atmosphere is difficult to put into words unless you have experienced it yourself. If you’ve never attended RiseFest, I highly recommend adding it to your calendar now. RiseFest is already scheduled for 2027 on June 11th and 12th, and it is absolutely worth the trip.

The second major highlight of the week was the kickoff of Connection’s annual Leadership Series. Every summer, leaders and potential leaders from across the church gather for several weeks of intentional growth, encouragement, and discipleship. I always look forward to this season because it’s a tangible reminder that healthy churches do not happen by accident. They’re built by people who are willing to invest their time, energy, and gifts into serving others while continually growing in their own walk with Christ. What I appreciate most about Connection is how intentional the church is about developing people rather than simply filling positions. Leadership isn’t about titles or recognition; it’s about faithfully serving where God has placed you and helping others take their next steps in following Jesus. This summer, more than 100 people have been invited to participate, and that level of investment speaks volumes about the church’s commitment to discipleship and multiplication. I’m excited to see how God uses these next eight weeks to challenge us, encourage us, and equip us for the ministry He has called us to.

Weeks like this also remind me of the incredible blessing that Christian community truly is. Whether it’s worshiping alongside tens of thousands at a festival, learning alongside fellow believers in a leadership setting, or simply gathering with your local church on a Sunday morning, there’s something special about being connected to the body of Christ. We were never designed to walk this journey alone. God created us for community, accountability, encouragement, and mutual growth.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if you aren’t connected to a local church, it may be one of the most encouraging and life giving decisions you ever make. No church is perfect because no group of people is perfect, but there’s tremendous value in finding a church that faithfully teaches God’s Word, points people to Jesus, and provides opportunities to grow alongside other believers. Some of the greatest blessings, friendships, lessons, and opportunities that God has brought into my life have come through being connected to a local church. It’s one of the primary ways God shapes us, encourages us, and reminds us that we are part of something far bigger than ourselves.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Psalm 139 confronts one of humanity's oldest fears: if God truly knew everything about us, would He still want us? David's answer is both comforting and challenging. The God who knows us completely is also the God who lovingly leads us in the way everlasting.

Based on the sermon by Joe Obermueller, Connection Church Sioux Falls, June 7, 2026.

Known, Pursued, and Led: The Comfort and Challenge of Psalm 139

There are few things in creation more humbling than looking into the night sky.

Modern astronomy continues to reveal a universe so vast that our minds struggle to comprehend it. Distances are measured in light years. Galaxies number in the billions. The farther we look, the more we realize how small we are. Yet as overwhelming as the universe may seem, David points us toward something even greater.

This week in our Summer in the Psalms series, elder Joe Obermueller led us through Psalm 139, a psalm that reveals not merely the greatness of creation, but the greatness of its Creator. David repeatedly points to truths about God that stretch beyond our ability to fully understand. In Psalm 139:6, he declares, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it.”

The mystery isn’t simply that God is big. The mystery is that this infinitely great God knows us completely. And for many people, that thought can feel terrifying.

Sin whispers a familiar lie into every human heart that if God really knew everything about you, He would reject you. If He saw every failure, every secret thought, every hidden struggle, He would turn away.

Psalm 139 dismantles that lie.

The World Behind the Text

Psalm 139 is one of David’s most personal. Unlike many psalms that focus on external enemies or national concerns, this one turns inward. David reflects on God’s character and his own relationship with Him.

Throughout the psalm, David celebrates three attributes of God that theologians often describe as omniscience, omnipresence, and omnipotence.

Omniscience means God knows all things.

Omnipresence means God is present everywhere.

Omnipotence means God possesses all power.

While those words may sound technical, David presents them through poetry rather than theological formulas. He wants us to feel these truths as much as understand them.

God knows every word before it is spoken. He knows every thought before it is formed. He knows every step before it is taken.

God is present in every location. Whether David ascends into heaven or descends into Sheol, God’s presence remains. Whether he travels to the farthest reaches of the sea or finds himself surrounded by darkness, God is already there.

God is also the Creator who formed him in the womb. Every detail of his existence originated from God’s careful design and sovereign purpose.

For David, these truths are not frightening. They are deeply comforting.

Walking the Passage

The opening verses establish a remarkable reality.

“O Lord, you have searched me and known me!” (Psalm 139:1).

David isn’t speculating that God might know him. He’s declaring that God already does.

God knows when he sits down and when he rises up. God understands his thoughts from afar. God knows every path he walks and every place he rests.

Nothing is hidden.

At first glance, that level of exposure can feel uncomfortable. We spend much of our lives carefully managing what others see. We reveal certain parts of ourselves while concealing others.

God can’t be managed. He sees beneath every mask.

Yet David doesn’t describe God’s knowledge as oppressive. Instead, he describes it as loving care. God surrounds him behind and before. God lays His hand upon him.

Joe illustrated this beautifully through the image of an MRI machine.

An MRI reveals what can’t be seen on the surface. Its purpose is not to shame the patient but to identify what needs healing. In a similar way, God’s knowledge penetrates deeper than appearances. He sees beneath our outward actions into the hidden places of the heart.

Not to condemn. Not to humiliate.

But to heal.

David then shifts from God’s knowledge to God’s presence.

“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence?” (Psalm 139:7).

The answer is nowhere.

If he ascends to heaven, God is there. If he makes his bed in Sheol, God is there. If he flies to the farthest reaches of the sea, God is there. Even darkness can’t hide him.

This is one of the most comforting truths in all of Scripture. There’s no location where God’s people can find themselves beyond His reach. No season of suffering, no valley of grief, no moment of confusion exists outside His presence.

David concludes this section with a fascinating statement.

“If I awake, I am still with you” (Psalm 139:18).

At first glance, we might read this as waking up from sleep. Yet throughout Scripture, sleep often serves as a metaphor for death.

David uses similar language in Psalm 17:15.

“As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness.”

Likewise, Job declares,

“For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God” (Job 19:25-26).

Neither David nor Job possessed the full revelation that we now have through Christ’s death and resurrection. Yet both expressed remarkable confidence that death would not be the end. Both anticipated a future day when they would behold God Himself.

What they hoped for, we know with certainty because Christ rose from the grave.

Because Christ lives, death has lost its final word.

A Fair Counter-Reading

One of the most challenging parts of Psalm 139 appears in verses 19-22.

After eighteen verses celebrating God’s greatness and care, David suddenly begins speaking about the wicked and expressing hatred toward those who oppose God.

To modern readers, this can feel jarring. It almost appears as though David is throwing a spiritual tantrum.

Yet David’s concern isn’t personal revenge.

Instead, Joe advised us that these verses reveal covenant loyalty. David loves God so deeply that he hates anything that opposes God’s goodness, holiness, and purposes.

His words reflect grief over sin’s destruction and a desire for God’s justice to prevail.

At the same time, the New Testament reminds believers to love their enemies and pray for those who persecute them (Matthew 5:44). The church is called to oppose sin while extending grace to sinners, just as Christ extended grace to us.

The tension is intentional. We should hate evil because God hates evil. Yet we should also long for redemption because God delights in saving sinners.

The Turn

The psalm concludes with one of the most courageous prayers in Scripture.

“Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!” (Psalm 139:23-24).

This isn’t a request for information. God already knows David’s heart. This is a request for transformation.

David recognizes that there are blind spots within him. There are sins he can’t see. There are motives he doesn’t fully understand. There are patterns hidden beneath the surface.

Only God can reveal them.

More importantly, only God can lead him out of them.

The prayer isn’t simply, “Show me my sin.”

The prayer is also, “Lead me in the way everlasting.”

The Gospel reminds us that God’s conviction is never separated from His grace. He reveals sin not to crush His people but to conform them to the image of Christ.

The same God who searches us is the God who saves us. The same God who exposes our hearts is the God who heals them. The same God who knows us completely is the God who loves us completely through Jesus Christ.

Carry It Into the Week

Most of us naturally want God to search other people.

We notice the sins, weaknesses, and failures around us far more easily than the ones within us. David takes the opposite approach.

Before asking God to deal with the wicked, he asks God to deal with himself.

That’s a prayer worth repeating.

What if every morning this week began with Psalm 139:23-24?

What if we invited God to expose our pride, our selfishness, our bitterness, and our unbelief?

What if we trusted that His purpose was not shame but healing?

The beauty of Psalm 139 is that we never have to fear what God discovers. He already knows everything.

The God who searched us before we ever sought Him is the same God who sent His Son to redeem us.

There’s nowhere we can run that He isn’t already there.

There’s nothing He can uncover that Christ hasn’t already paid for.

And there’s no heart so broken that He can’t lead it in the way everlasting.

Song of the Week: Evidence - Citizen Way

Love is the evidence. This hook is the core of this week’s song, “Evidence” by Citizen Way. Mercy, grace, and compassion are beautiful words, but if they never move beyond our lips and into our actions, they remain little more than concepts. Love is what puts flesh on those words. It is what transforms theology from something we merely understand into something we actually live.

This idea echoes what Jesus taught His disciples in John 13:34-35 when He gave them a new commandment to love one another just as He had loved them. He then made a remarkable statement, saying that all people would know they were His disciples by their love for one another. Notice that Jesus didn’t say people would recognize His followers primarily by their church attendance, Bible knowledge, political views, or social media posts. While those things may have their place, the distinguishing mark of a Christian is love.

The kind of love Jesus spoke about is not simply a feeling. It’s sacrificial. It chooses patience when frustration would be easier. It extends forgiveness when resentment feels justified. It serves others even when there is nothing to gain in return. It notices the lonely, encourages the discouraged, and carries the burdens of those who are struggling. This is the same love Christ demonstrated when He laid down His life for us while we were still sinners (Romans 5:8).

When believers live this way, love becomes evidence of God’s work within them. It becomes visible proof that the Gospel is not just information but transformation. A watching world may debate doctrine, question beliefs, or challenge convictions, but genuine Christlike love is difficult to ignore. People may forget a sermon, but they often remember the person who showed up during their darkest moment. They may not recall every Bible verse quoted to them, but they remember the grace they experienced when they least deserved it.

Lives are changed when we act in love because love reflects the heart of God. Every act of kindness, every moment of forgiveness, every sacrifice made for another person points back to the One who first loved us. Love isn’t merely a byproduct of the Christian life; it’s one of the clearest pieces of evidence that Christ is truly at work in us. As followers of Jesus, we are called to be living proof of His love, allowing our actions to testify to the grace that has transformed our own hearts. When we do that, the world doesn’t just hear about Jesus, it catches a glimpse of Him through us.

Week in Reflection

This week has been rough, but honestly, not because of anyone else. The choices were mine. Several nights this week I stayed up past midnight, far beyond my normal routine. Some of that time was spent doing genuinely good things like hanging out with friends, traveling for a photography gig, and editing photos from the show afterward. None of those things are wrong. In fact, they’re all things I’m grateful for. I love the friendships God has given me, and I’m thankful for opportunities to use photography creatively.

But somewhere in the middle of all that, I ignored my limits. I traded rest for “just one more hour,” over and over again. And while staying up late isn’t automatically sinful, I started to notice the effects piling up. My mind felt foggy, my discipline weakened, my time with God became rushed, and the temptations I normally fight with more clarity suddenly felt louder. Little compromises became easier to entertain. My guard dropped.

That’s the part that’s hardest to admit. It wasn’t one dramatic moment; it was a slow drift. Exhaustion has a way of making spiritual vigilance feel optional, and I let that happen. I can see now how important rhythms and boundaries really are. God designed us to need rest, and when I consistently ignore that, it affects more than just my energy level. It affects my heart.

Right now, I feel ashamed and worn down. There’s that familiar feeling of disappointment, “I should know better by now.” But even in that, I’m reminded that the Gospel is not built on my ability to keep myself together. It’s built on Christ’s finished work. My failure doesn’t surprise God, and it doesn’t cancel His love for me. He invites me to come honestly, not pretend I’m fine.

So that’s where I’m at, not excusing my choices, but bringing them into the light. Repentance means turning back to Him, trusting that His mercy is real, and asking for strength to walk differently moving forward. I’m grateful that God’s grace is not exhausted by one bad week, or ten bad weeks. He is patient with His children.

I don’t have some polished conclusion or a neat lesson tied up in a bow on this one. I’m just reminded again that I need Jesus every single day in my routines, my sleep, my friendships, my work, and my battles with sin. And even when I feel beaten down, I know I can still run to Him, because He is faithful to forgive and restore those who come to Him in repentance.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Fear has a way of exposing what we trust most. Psalm 62 invites us to loosen our grip on the fragile refuges of this world and find lasting rest in the God who alone is our rock, salvation, and fortress.

Based on the sermon by Jonathan Land, Connection Church Sioux Falls, May 31, 2026.

When the Turbulence Hits: Learning to Wait for God Alone

With 1 Corinthians now behind us, Connection Church begins its annual Summer in the Psalms series. This year starts with Psalm 62, a psalm often titled, “My Soul Waits for God Alone.” It’s a fitting place to begin because it addresses one of the most universal human struggles. Trust.

Pastor Jonathan opened with an image that was easy to picture. Imagine a passenger sitting on an airplane in severe turbulence. Every bump feels catastrophic. Every shake feels like the beginning of disaster. Their hands grip the armrests so tightly their knuckles turn white. They stare anxiously out the window, hoping the turbulence will stop.

Most of us can relate, even if we haven’t experienced that exact scenario. We know what it feels like to cling desperately to something when life becomes uncertain.

Yet there is a strange irony in that image. The passenger gripping the seat is trusting the wrong thing. The seat is not flying the plane. The armrest is not navigating the storm. The pilot is.

That analogy serves as a powerful picture of the Christian life. We often spend enormous amounts of energy clinging to things that were never designed to hold us up. Meanwhile, the One who truly carries us is already at work.

Psalm 62 calls us to stop trusting the seat and start trusting the Pilot.

The World Behind the Text

Psalm 62 is attributed to David, a man who knew instability better than most. Throughout his life he faced enemies, betrayal, political upheaval, family conflict, and seasons of deep personal failure.

The psalm itself suggests opposition. David describes enemies who seek to topple him from his position and delight in falsehood (Psalm 62:3-4). While we don’t know the exact historical setting, the language reflects someone under pressure, facing both external threats and internal temptations.

What makes the psalm remarkable is not the absence of danger. David never pretends everything is fine. Instead, he repeatedly directs his attention toward God.

The opening declaration sets the tone:

“For God alone my soul waits in silence; from Him comes my salvation.” (Psalm 62:1, ESV)

The word “alone” appears repeatedly throughout the psalm. David is intentionally narrowing his focus. His security is not found partly in God and partly in something else. God is not one refuge among many. He is the refuge.

That emphasis challenges a tendency that has existed throughout human history. We often want God plus something else. God plus financial security. God plus approval from others. God plus success. God plus comfort.

David refuses that arrangement.

Walking the Passage

One of the most convicting points from Sunday’s sermon was the idea of identifying our substitutes for God. Jonathan posed a simple but penetrating question, “What would you justify sin for?”

Consider lying. Most people know dishonesty is wrong. Yet many of us still find moments where we are tempted to bend the truth. Why? Usually because something else has become more important than obedience.

Perhaps we lie to protect our reputation. Perhaps we lie to avoid consequences. Perhaps we lie to preserve a relationship. In that moment, the thing we are protecting has become a functional substitute for God.

The issue isn’t merely the lie. The lie reveals what we trust. Psalm 62 exposes this reality. David warns against trusting power, wealth, and human strength.

“Put no trust in extortion; set no vain hopes on robbery; if riches increase, set not your heart on them.” (Psalm 62:10, ESV)

The warning remains relevant today. We may not place our hope in robbery, but we can easily place our hope in careers, achievements, relationships, possessions, or personal comfort.

The problem with these refuges is not that they are inherently evil. The problem is that they cannot bear the weight we place upon them.

Every worldly refuge eventually fails. Money can disappear. Relationships can change. Health can decline. Careers can end. Public approval can vanish overnight.

David points us toward the only refuge that cannot be shaken.

“He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken.” (Psalm 62:6, ESV)

Notice the confidence of that statement. David doesn’t say he MIGHT not be shaken. He says he SHALL not be shaken. That confidence doesn’t come from his circumstances. It comes from the character of God.

Jonathan encouraged us to practice what he called “self recall.” In other words, preach God’s promises to yourself. This is something David models throughout the psalm. Rather than allowing fear to dictate his thoughts, he deliberately reminds himself who God is.

When suffering comes, remember God’s faithfulness.

When loneliness arrives, remember God’s presence.

When temptation presses in, remember God’s promises.

When anxiety grows louder, remember God’s sovereignty.

The Christian life often involves speaking truth to our own hearts before we speak it to anyone else.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Some readers might hear Psalm 62 and conclude that trusting God means passively waiting for life to improve. If God is our refuge, does that mean we simply do nothing?

That interpretation misses the larger biblical picture.

Throughout Scripture, trusting God and acting faithfully go hand in hand. David trusted God deeply, yet he still fought battles, led people, prayed fervently, and made difficult decisions.

Waiting on God is not inactivity. It is dependence.

The difference lies in where our confidence rests. We work, serve, plan, and act, but we don’t place our ultimate hope in those efforts. Our confidence remains anchored in God rather than ourselves.

Psalm 62 is not a call to laziness. It is a call to surrender.

The Turn

Perhaps the most practical application from this week centered on prayer.

Many Christians unintentionally reduce prayer to a transaction. We bring requests. We offer thanks. Then we move on.

Yet the Psalms consistently present prayer as something far richer.

David doesn’t hide his emotions from God. He brings everything before Him.

Fear.

Anger.

Disappointment.

Confusion.

Joy.

Gratitude.

Hope.

Psalm 62:8 offers a beautiful invitation:

“Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.” (Psalm 62:8, ESV)

Pouring out your heart means holding nothing back. God already knows your frustrations. He already knows your doubts. He already knows your fears.

Prayer isn’t about informing God. It’s about bringing our hearts honestly before Him. At the same time, biblical prayer doesn’t stop with emotional honesty. It ultimately moves toward surrender.

Jesus modeled this perfectly in the Garden of Gethsemane when He prayed, “not as I will, but as you will” (Matthew 26:39, ESV).

That is where Psalm 62 leads us as well.

Trusting God means believing that His will is wiser than ours, even when the turbulence continues. It means believing that He sees what we cannot. It means believing that He remains in control when circumstances feel chaotic.

Most importantly, it means believing that our salvation rests not in our ability to hold on to Him, but in His ability to hold on to us.

Carry It Into the Week

Every one of us has a tendency to white-knuckle something.

For some, it’s financial security. For others, it’s a relationship. For others, it’s comfort, control, success, or approval.

Psalm 62 gently but firmly asks a difficult question, “What are you gripping that was never designed to carry your weight?”

The invitation isn’t simply to let go. The invitation is to transfer your trust.

God never asks us to abandon false refuges without providing a better one. He offers Himself. The God who sustained David. The God who fulfilled His promises through Christ. The God who knows every fear, every disappointment, and every struggle you carry.

When the turbulence comes, and it will come, remember the truth David discovered long ago.

“My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from him.” (Psalm 62:5, ESV)

The Pilot hasn’t lost control. The destination hasn’t changed.

And the One guiding your story can be trusted.

Song of the Week: Stigmata - Convictions

Convictions is a newer find for me when it comes to Christian music, and it is easily the heaviest Christian music I have ever heard. Which is probably why it works so well for me. Over the last few years, I’ve become increasingly convicted about the music I consume. Lyrics matter. Messages matter. What we repeatedly fill our minds with has an impact on us whether we realize it or not. At the same time, I have never been able to shake my love for hard hitting riffs, heavy breakdowns, and music that carries a certain intensity. For a while it felt like those two desires were at odds with one another. Then I discovered Convictions.

Convictions gives me the best of both worlds. They deliver the kind of heaviness that I naturally gravitate toward while also centering their music on biblical truth, redemption, and the Gospel. Their songs aren’t heavy just for the sake of being heavy. There is purpose behind the aggression and meaning behind every lyric.

I was first introduced to Convictions while covering a Demon Hunter concert, which you can read more about here. Their energy was contagious, but it was more than just a great live performance. The passion behind what they were singing felt genuine. It wasn’t simply entertainment. It felt like a testimony being delivered through distorted guitars and screamed vocals. As someone who spends a lot of time around live music, that authenticity stands out.

Enter “Stigmata,” a song about, you guessed it, the stigmata. If you’re unfamiliar with the term, it refers to, in Catholic tradition, the bodily wounds corresponding to those suffered by Jesus during His crucifixion. The song uses that imagery to point listeners directly back to Christ’s sacrifice. The chorus absolutely grabs me every time:

“Stigmata! His scars are the proof. No matter what you say, His words are the truth. Stigmata! Push these nails through. I sing for the Son.”

It’s a guttural reminder of what Christ did for each and every one of us. The brutality of the music almost serves as a reflection of the brutality of the cross itself. We often sanitize the crucifixion in our minds, reducing it to a familiar symbol we see every Sunday. But Christ’s sacrifice was violent, painful, and costly. Songs like this force us to confront that reality in a way that feels raw and unfiltered.

I know that some people won’t enjoy how heavy this song really is, and that’s completely understandable. Heavy music has always been a niche genre, especially within Christian circles. But personally, when I read some of the laments and cries for help throughout the Psalms, I can’t help but imagine David pouring out those words with a similar intensity. These weren’t polished, reserved prayers. They were desperate cries from a man who was afraid, angry, heartbroken, repentant, and completely dependent on God. While David may not have had distorted guitars and breakdowns, the emotions behind many of his Psalms feel anything but quiet.

That’s why I’ve always believed that the genre itself is secondary to the message being proclaimed. We can debate musical styles all day long, but we shouldn’t dismiss the truth being communicated simply because it comes packaged in a form we don’t personally enjoy. Even if screaming vocals and punching riffs aren’t your thing, the lyrics still point directly toward Christ and the hope found in Him.

One line that stands out to me is, “I lay my burdens at the tree. Only in death am I set free.” At first glance, it sounds incredibly morbid, but it captures a foundational truth of the Christian faith. We are called to die to ourselves, surrender our own desires, and place our burdens at the foot of the cross. Freedom isn’t found in holding tighter to our struggles; it’s found in giving them over to the One who already carried them for us. Every sin, every fear, every failure can be brought before Christ, knowing that His grace is sufficient.

And the beautiful thing is that He never asks us to carry those burdens alone. Time and time again, Scripture reminds us that God is present with His people. In seasons of joy, suffering, uncertainty, and victory, He remains faithful. That reality is summed up perfectly in the final stanza of the song, “Kingdom Come, Thy will be done.” It’s a statement of surrender, trust, and hope. A recognition that God’s plans are greater than our own and that His kingdom is worth pursuing above everything else.

No matter how chaotic life becomes, no matter how heavy the burden feels, Christ is still on the throne. His scars remain the proof. His promises remain true. And His presence remains constant for those who call upon His name.

Week in Reflection

This week was an amazing reminder of how God works through community. Over the course of several evenings, I had the opportunity to spend time with friends watching movies, playing pickleball, sharing meals, and simply talking late into the night. None of those moments were particularly extraordinary on their own, but together they became a powerful reminder of how God often uses the ordinary things in life to accomplish something extraordinary in our hearts.

It can be easy to overlook the value of these seemingly small moments. We often think life changing experiences have to come through major events, dramatic breakthroughs, or significant accomplishments. Yet God frequently works through simple conversations, shared laughter, and faithful friendships. A casual game, a movie night, or an honest discussion about life can become a source of encouragement exactly when it’s needed most.

One of the greatest blessings from this week was being reminded that I have friends who are more than just people to spend time with. They are people who are willing to walk through life together. They celebrate victories, listen during struggles, and provide support when things become difficult. When depression, anxiety, discouragement, or hardship begin to creep in, having a community of people who genuinely care can make an incredible difference. Their presence serves as a reminder that I do not have to carry life’s burdens alone.

This is one of the reasons Scripture places such an emphasis on Christian community. Hebrews 10:24-25 encourages believers to consider how to stir one another up to love and good works and to not neglect meeting together. God never intended for us to navigate life in isolation. From the very beginning, He created us for relationship first with Him and then with one another. Christian community isn’t simply a nice addition to our faith; it’s an essential part of how God strengthens, encourages, and matures us.

Looking back on this week, I am thankful for the friendships God has placed in my life. The conversations, laughter, competition on the pickleball court, and shared experiences may seem small in the grand scheme of things, but they have served as tangible reminders of God’s goodness and provision. Through these relationships, God continues to point me toward Christ and remind me that I am never alone.

My prayer for those reading is that you would find and invest in a community of Christ centered friends who encourage your faith and walk alongside you through every season of life. We were never meant to do life alone. God designed us to live in community, supporting one another, bearing one another’s burdens, and continually pointing each other back to Jesus.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

After sixteen chapters of correction, encouragement, theology, and practical instruction, Paul's message to the Corinthian church remains remarkably simple. Whatever the question, whatever the struggle, whatever the circumstance, the answer is ultimately found in Christ and His resurrection.

Based on the sermon by Jonathan Land, Connection Church Sioux Falls, May 24, 2026.

The Thread Running Through 1 Corinthians

There is something deeply satisfying about reaching the end of a long journey.

Over the past several months, we have walked chapter by chapter through Paul’s first letter to the church in Corinth. We have wrestled with difficult passages, explored complex doctrines, and confronted challenging applications. Along the way, Paul addressed division, sexual immorality, lawsuits among believers, marriage, singleness, Christian liberty, worship, spiritual gifts, and the resurrection.

At first glance, 1 Corinthians can feel like a collection of unrelated issues. One chapter discusses church conflict. Another focuses on marriage. Another dives into spiritual gifts. Yet another builds one of the most robust defenses of the resurrection found anywhere in Scripture.

But as we reach the end of the letter and look back, a remarkable pattern emerges.

Every road leads back to Jesus.

The World Behind the Text

The church in Corinth was messy.

Located in a prosperous and influential city, the Corinthian believers struggled to separate themselves from the values of the culture around them. They carried worldly assumptions into the church and then wondered why problems followed.

Sound familiar?

The Corinthians often approached their faith by asking questions similar to the ones Christians ask today.

How should we handle disagreements? What should our relationships look like? How do we use our freedoms? What does spiritual maturity look like? How should worship function? What happens after death?

Paul answers every one of these questions, yet he refuses to let the conversation stay merely practical. Instead, he consistently moves beneath the surface and addresses the deeper issue.

Their greatest need was not better techniques. Their greatest need was Christ.

Walking the Passage

One of the most fascinating observations from this study is how frequently Paul points to Jesus throughout the letter.

Across sixteen chapters, Paul uses the name Jesus twenty six times, Christ sixty four times, and Lord sixty six times. These aren’t accidental references sprinkled throughout the letter. They reveal Paul’s central focus.

Everything revolves around Christ.

When the Corinthians were dividing into factions, Paul pointed them to Christ crucified.

When they were tolerating sin, Paul pointed them to Christ’s holiness.

When they struggled with pride, Paul pointed them to Christ’s humility.

When they misunderstood love, Paul pointed them to Christ’s example.

When they questioned the resurrection, Paul pointed them to Christ’s victory over death.

Paul never treats Jesus as a supporting character in the Christian life. Jesus IS the Christian life. This is why Paul writes, “For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Corinthians 2:2, ESV).

That statement is not a rejection of theology or practical wisdom. Rather, it is a declaration that every aspect of theology and wisdom finds its center in Christ.

When we dig deeply enough into any issue, we eventually arrive at the cross.

When we ask how to forgive, we find Christ.

When we ask how to love, we find Christ.

When we ask how to endure suffering, we find Christ.

When we ask what gives life meaning, we find Christ.

When we ask what happens after death, we find Christ and His resurrection.

The world constantly offers competing answers. It tells us fulfillment can be found in success, relationships, wealth, status, self-expression, or personal achievement.

Paul disagrees.

Christ is not one answer among many. Christ IS the answer.

That truth can sound exclusive in a culture that celebrates endless options. Yet Christianity has always proclaimed that ultimate hope is found in a person, not a philosophy.

Jesus Himself declared, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6, ESV).

The gospel does not present Christ as an enhancement to life. It presents Him as life itself.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Some readers may object that reducing every issue to “Jesus is the answer” oversimplifies the complexities of life.

After all, Scripture contains practical commands, wisdom literature, and detailed ethical teaching. Doesn’t Christianity require more nuanced answers than simply pointing to Christ?

There is truth in that concern.

Paul certainly provides practical instruction throughout 1 Corinthians. He gives specific guidance regarding marriage, worship, church discipline, generosity, and spiritual gifts. Christianity is not opposed to practical wisdom.

Yet Paul never allows practical wisdom to become disconnected from the person and work of Jesus.

The issue is not whether practical answers matter. The issue is whether those answers remain rooted in the Gospel.

Paul’s genius is that he refuses to separate doctrine from discipleship. The practical instructions always flow from the reality of who Christ is and what He has accomplished.

The Turn

One of the challenges facing modern Christians is the temptation to blend into the surrounding culture. We often want to be accepted, understood, and comfortable.

Yet Paul consistently calls believers toward something different.

He calls them toward holiness, sacrificial love, and toward a life shaped by the cross.

In many ways, genuine Christianity should appear strange to the world.

Not because Christians seek to be offensive or are trying to stand out. But because the values of Christ often run contrary to the values of the culture.

Paul closes the letter with a simple but profound command: “Let all that you do be done in love” (1 Corinthians 16:14, ESV).

That sounds simple until we attempt to live it.

Responding to criticism with love, serving others before ourselves, forgiving those who hurt us, and choosing humility over self promotion are all countercultural.

Living every aspect of life through the lens of Christ’s sacrificial love will often make us appear strange in a world built on self interest.

But perhaps that is exactly the point. The church was never called to look like Corinth. The church was called to look like Christ.

Carry It Into the Week

As we close the book of 1 Corinthians, it is worth pausing to recognize what has happened.

You have journeyed through an entire book of the Bible.

That may not feel significant at first glance, but it truly is.

In a culture increasingly driven by short attention spans and quick answers, you have spent time dwelling deeply in God’s Word. You have wrestled with difficult passages. You have explored theology. You have followed Paul’s argument from beginning to end.

That is no small accomplishment.

More importantly, my hope is that this study has accomplished what Paul intended all along.

Not merely that you would know more about Corinth or that you would understand more theology. But that you would see Christ more clearly.

Because every chapter ultimately points to Him.

Every correction, every command, every promise, and every hope points to Him.

As we move into our Summer in the Psalms series, my prayer is that the same hunger for God’s Word continues to grow in anyone who reads this. Scripture is not simply information to consume. It is God’s revelation of Himself, culminating in the person and work of Jesus Christ.

Thank you for walking through this journey with me.

I hope you’ll continue to join me as we turn the page and begin exploring the Psalms together.

Song of the Week: Confidence - Sanctus Real

We all have things that scare us. For some, it’s spiders crawling across the floor. For others, it’s standing in front of a crowd to speak or looking over the edge of a towering height. Fear is something every person experiences in one way or another. Yet some of the deepest fears are not physical at all. Sometimes the hardest fears to face are the spiritual ones. The fear of speaking openly about our faith at work. The fear of being judged by family or friends. The fear of defending what we believe when difficult conversations arise. Even as Christians, fear has a way of making us feel small and uncertain.

That is why Sanctus Real’s song Confidence resonates with people. The song is more than just catchy lyrics or a powerful chorus. It’s a prayer. A cry for God to give ordinary people extraordinary faith in the middle of life’s battles.

“So give me faith like Daniel in the lion’s den.” Daniel stood surrounded by danger, yet he trusted God even when fear should have overwhelmed him. That lyric becomes a prayer asking God to help us stand firm when life feels intimidating and uncertain. Help me not to run from the things that scare me. Help me trust You even when I feel surrounded.

“Give me hope like Moses in the wilderness.” Moses spent years wandering through uncertainty, yet God never abandoned His promises. Sometimes life feels like a wilderness season where prayers seem unanswered and the road ahead feels unclear. This line reminds us to ask God for hope that sees beyond present struggles and believes He is still leading us somewhere greater.

“Give me a heart like David, Lord be my defense.” David faced giants, enemies, and impossible odds, but his confidence was never in his own strength. His confidence came from knowing who fought beside him. That same prayer applies to our own lives when battles come in the form of anxiety, hardships, temptation, grief, or spiritual struggles. We ask God to fight for us when we are too weak to fight on our own.

“So I can face my giants with confidence.” That single line captures the heart of the Christian walk. Confidence doesn’t mean we never feel afraid. It means we know fear doesn’t have the final word because God is greater than whatever stands in front of us. The giants in our lives may not be literal warriors or lions, but they are still real. Fear, doubt, insecurity, suffering, and uncertainty can all feel massive in the moment. Yet through Christ, we are reminded that we do not face those giants alone.

True confidence is not rooted in ourselves. It is rooted in knowing that God is our salvation, our hope, and our strength. He is faithful in every season, present in every battle, and stronger than every fear we carry. My prayer is not only that God continues to grow this confidence in my own life, but that everyone reading this would pray the same thing. That God would give us faith when we are afraid, hope when we feel lost, strength when we feel weak, and confidence to face whatever lies ahead knowing He walks beside us every step of the way.

Week in Reflection

This week truly felt like the beginning of summer. The weather is getting warmer, the days are stretching longer, and suddenly calendars start filling with opportunities to connect with people outside again. Between bonfires with friends, dreaming about future travel plans, and stepping into a new opportunity with photography at church, it felt like one of those weeks where God quietly reminds me how much beauty can be found in everyday moments.

There is just something special about summer bonfires. Maybe it’s the slower pace, the glow of the fire cutting through the darkness, or the way conversations seem to naturally go deeper when everyone is gathered around together. This week brought a night like that, sitting around the fire with friends talking about life, interests, future goals, and everything in between. One of the biggest conversations ended up being the possibility of organizing a trip to Japan in 2027, which honestly still feels surreal to even talk about.

What started as a casual discussion quickly turned into excited conversations about places we would want to visit, food we would want to try, and experiences we would love to share together. Beyond the excitement of travel itself, moments like that remind me how important community really is. Fellowship is not always confined to church walls or organized Bible studies. Sometimes it happens around folding chairs in a backyard while smoke from a fire drifts through the air and everyone shares pieces of their lives with one another. Those moments matter deeply because they create opportunities to encourage one another, laugh together, and witness how God is moving in each person’s journey.

Alongside those moments of fellowship came an opportunity that honestly pushed me out of my comfort zone in the best way possible. This week I had the privilege of photographing services at Connection Church. From morning prayer before service began, to the welcome team greeting people at the doors, to baptisms during worship, and the sermon itself, it was an incredibly humbling experience to try and capture the heart behind everything happening throughout the morning.

Going into it, I was definitely nervous. Photography is always interesting because there is a balance between technical skill and simply being present enough to recognize meaningful moments as they happen. Walking into an environment where every moment carries spiritual significance added an entirely different layer to that responsibility. I wanted to do justice to the joy of baptisms, the sincerity of prayer, and the welcoming atmosphere that so many people work hard to create every Sunday.

Even though I have not received feedback on the photographs yet, I walked away feeling genuinely grateful for the opportunity itself. There were multiple moments throughout the services where I could feel God guiding my attention toward moments that deserved to be captured. A smile during worship, someone deep in prayer, or the excitement and emotion surrounding baptisms. Moments that may seem small from the outside but carry so much meaning within them. It reminded me that photography, at its best, is more than simply taking pictures. It becomes a way of preserving moments that reflect joy, community, faith, and the work God is doing in people’s lives.

As summer continues to unfold, I find myself increasingly excited for what lies ahead. The season is only beginning, yet already it has brought opportunities for deeper fellowship, new experiences, and reminders of God’s faithfulness in both big and small ways. Whether it’s conversations around a bonfire, planning adventures down the road, or stepping into opportunities that feel intimidating at first, I am thankful for the ways God continues to open doors and create moments worth remembering.

If this is only the beginning of summer, I truly cannot wait to see what the rest of the season holds.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

Paul closes 1 Corinthians with both tenderness and urgency. His final words call believers to courage, vigilance, and unwavering love while warning that a heart untouched by love for Christ stands under judgment.

Based on the sermon by Jonathan Land, Connection Church Sioux Falls, May 17, 2026.

Strong Hands, Gentle Hearts: Paul’s Final Charge to the Church

Sometimes the clearest truths arrive through the strangest illustrations.

Before walking through 1 Corinthians 16:13-24, Jonathan showed a clip from the animated film Ferdinand, a story about a massive bull who would rather smell flowers than destroy everything around him. The image connected immediately to one of his favorite idioms: a bull in a china shop. Strength without gentleness leaves destruction behind. Power without love crushes what is fragile.

That friction sits at the center of Paul’s closing words to the Corinthian church.

After sixteen chapters of correction, rebuke, encouragement, theology, and pastoral pleading, Paul lands the plane with a final charge. Be watchful. Stand firm. Act like men. Be strong. Yet in the same breath he commands, “Let all that you do be done in love” (1 Corinthians 16:13-14).

It is one of the clearest summaries of Christian maturity in the entire letter. Followers of Christ are not called to passive weakness, nor are they called to domineering aggression. The church is meant to embody courage wrapped in love, conviction shaped by grace, and truth carried with gentleness.

The bull must learn not to destroy the china shop.

The World Behind the Text

The church in Corinth struggled deeply with division. Throughout the letter Paul addressed factions, pride, sexual immorality, lawsuits, selfish worship practices, abuses of spiritual gifts, and confusion surrounding the resurrection. Again and again, the apostle confronted believers who were acting more like rival tribes than a united family.

This explains why Paul’s closing commands carry both military and relational language.

When Paul says, “Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong” (1 Corinthians 16:13), he is drawing from the vocabulary of soldiers guarding a city wall. The commands are sharp and active. Stay awake. Do not retreat. Hold your position. Resist compromise.

Yet Paul immediately balances this with a command that transforms how strength is expressed: “Let all that you do be done in love” (1 Corinthians 16:14).

That matters because Corinth had confused spiritual maturity with self importance. Some believers prized knowledge over people. Others elevated spiritual gifts while humiliating weaker members of the church. Earlier in the letter Paul already dismantled this mindset by declaring that without love, even the most impressive spirituality amounts to nothing (1 Corinthians 13:1-3).

Love was never optional decoration for Christian living. It was the evidence that Christ Himself was shaping the church.

In many ways, Paul spends the final lines of this letter circling back to its central theme. If it is not rooted in Christlike love, it does not reflect Christ at all.

Walking the Passage

Paul’s final instructions move quickly, but they are packed with pastoral wisdom.

First, he reminds believers to remain alert. Spiritual drift rarely happens all at once. Churches seldom collapse overnight. Compromise usually enters quietly through apathy, distraction, bitterness, or pride. To “be watchful” means remaining spiritually awake in a world constantly pulling believers away from faithfulness.

Second, Paul commands the church to “stand firm in the faith” (1 Corinthians 16:13). Notice he does not say stand firm in preferences, personalities, or traditions. The foundation is the Gospel itself. Corinth had become distracted by status and division, but Paul continually pointed them back to Christ crucified and risen.

This firmness matters today just as much as it did then. Christian conviction is not arrogance. Standing firm does not mean becoming combative for the sake of winning arguments online or humiliating opponents. It means refusing to abandon the truth of Jesus even when the surrounding culture shifts beneath our feet.

Then comes the phrase often translated “act like men” (1 Corinthians 16:13). In context, Paul is not excluding women from courage or maturity. The phrase carries the idea of spiritual bravery and steadfastness. The church must grow up. Believers are called toward maturity, not spiritual infancy.

Yet Paul refuses to let strength become harshness.

“Let all that you do be done in love” (1 Corinthians 16:14).

That sentence should stop every Christian in their tracks. Every act of correction. Every theological conviction. Every confrontation with sin. Every defense of truth. Every act of service. Every disagreement. Every sermon. Every ministry.

All of it must be done in love.

Not sentimental love that ignores evil. Not shallow niceness pretending sin is harmless. Biblical love seeks the good of others according to God’s truth. Love sometimes comforts, but love also warns. Love restores, rebukes, and protects.

That balance becomes even clearer when Paul begins speaking about Stephanas and the other believers who refreshed his spirit (1 Corinthians 16:15-18). Paul points to ordinary faithful Christians who quietly strengthened the church through service and encouragement. These were not celebrity leaders or powerful public figures. They were devoted servants.

The church thrives because of people like this.

People who encourage rather than divide. People who refresh weary souls instead of draining them. People who quietly serve Christ without demanding recognition.

Paul calls the church to honor such believers because the kingdom of God grows through humble faithfulness far more than flashy influence.

Then the letter shifts sharply.

Paul takes the pen into his own hand and writes a personal closing: “If anyone has no love for the Lord, let him be accursed. Our Lord, come!” (1 Corinthians 16:22).

These are startling words.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Some readers struggle with Paul’s language here because it sounds severe, even unloving. Modern readers often prefer a softer Christianity that avoids themes like judgment, condemnation, or divine wrath altogether.

It’s understandable why this verse creates discomfort.

Some interpret Paul’s statement as merely emotional frustration or rhetorical exaggeration. Others argue that emphasizing judgment risks pushing people away from Christ rather than drawing them toward Him.

There’s an important caution worth hearing. Christians absolutely have misused passages about judgment in cruel or manipulative ways. Churches have sometimes weaponized condemnation without reflecting the mercy and patience of Jesus.

Yet removing judgment entirely creates a different problem. A Christianity with no accountability, no holiness, and no warning ultimately empties the Gospel of its urgency.

Paul’s warning only makes sense because he genuinely believes eternity is at stake.

The Turn

What makes Paul’s warning so powerful is that it comes wrapped inside love.

The same apostle who wrote the great chapter on love in 1 Corinthians 13 also warns that those who reject Christ remain under judgment. These truths are not opposites. In Scripture, love warns because love cares.

A parent who sees danger and says nothing is not loving. A doctor who refuses to diagnose illness for fear of offending a patient is not compassionate. Likewise, the church cannot claim love while remaining silent about sin and separation from God.

Paul’s statement is sobering because eternity is sobering.

But Christians should also hear the comfort within this passage. Those who belong to Christ do not need to fear condemnation. Earlier in the letter Paul repeatedly reminded believers that they were sanctified in Christ Jesus and called to be saints (1 Corinthians 1:2).

The warning exposes what is false while strengthening what is genuine.

This is why Paul ends with hope: “Our Lord, come!” (1 Corinthians 16:22).

The church lives in expectation of Christ’s return. Christians are not simply enduring history until death arrives. We are waiting for the King.

That expectation changes how believers live. We stay watchful because Christ is coming. We stand firm because Christ is victorious. We love because Christ first loved us. We reject evil because Christ is holy. We endure because Christ will return and make all things right.

Paul’s final blessing captures the heart behind the entire letter: “My love be with you all in Christ Jesus” (1 Corinthians 16:24).

Even after all the correction, all the rebukes, and all the hard truths, Paul’s final posture toward the church is love.

That is the heartbeat of Christian discipleship.

Strong hands. Gentle hearts. Truth wrapped in grace.

Carry It Into the Week

It is easy to drift toward one extreme or the other.

Some Christians emphasize truth so heavily that they become harsh, suspicious, and constantly combative. Others emphasize love in ways that avoid hard conversations or blur biblical conviction altogether.

Paul refuses both distortions.

The church is called to courageous love.

That means standing against evil without becoming consumed by anger. It means confronting sin while remembering our own need for grace. It means protecting what is fragile rather than bulldozing people in the name of righteousness.

In a culture increasingly shaped by outrage and division, the church should look different. Christians should be people marked by conviction without cruelty and gentleness without compromise.

As we close 1 Corinthians alongside Paul, his message remains deeply relevant: stay awake, stand firm, be strong, and let everything be done in love until Christ returns.

Song of the Week: Beautiful - Hulvey

I had the chance to see Hulvey when he was part of Lifelight in 2023. Lifelight has become such a unique part of the culture here in Sioux Falls because every year it brings free Christian music to the city in a huge way. It is more than just a festival full of concerts; it is an event built around worship, community, and sharing the love of Christ with anyone who shows up. No matter your age, background, or favorite style of music, there is something powerful about seeing people gather together with a common purpose centered on faith.

While I didn’t get the chance to catch Hulvey’s entire set that year, I was able to hear him perform this song live, which at the time was one of his most popular tracks. Even with only seeing part of the performance, it was enough to leave an impression on me. There was an authenticity to the way he performed that stood out immediately. It didn’t feel forced or manufactured. It simply felt real, like someone honestly sharing their heart and faith through music.

What makes that even more interesting for me personally is the fact that I don’t usually listen to a lot of hip hop. It has never really been the genre I naturally gravitate toward. However, every once in a while there are certain artists who break through those preferences because there is something deeper behind the music. Hulvey ended up being one of those artists for me. Even though I have not fully explored his entire catalog yet, this particular song continues to stand out every single time it comes on. Some songs fade over time, but others continue to carry emotions and spirituality no matter how many times you hear them, and this is definitely one of those songs for me.

The part that impacts me the most is the realness found within the chorus. There is something incredibly powerful about music that does not try to overcomplicate faith but instead points back to the simple truth that God’s presence is enough. In a world where so many people are searching for peace, purpose, identity, or fulfillment in countless different places, songs like this serve as a reminder that true satisfaction can only be found in Him. God’s love is not conditional on how successful we are, how strong our faith feels in a particular moment, or whether life is currently going well. His love remains constant through every high and every low.

That message resonates because every season of life looks different. Some seasons are full of joy, excitement, and answered prayers, while others feel heavy with uncertainty, exhaustion, disappointment, or grief. Yet through all of it, God remains faithful. His presence does not disappear when circumstances become difficult. If anything, those are often the moments where His love becomes even more evident.

My hope is that this song, whether you enjoy hip hop or not, would resonate with you in that same way. Beyond the beat, the production, or the style of music itself, I hope the message cuts through clearly: that God’s presence truly is enough, and that He freely gives His love to us no matter what season we may currently be walking through.

Week in Reflection

This week has been filled with multiple photography gigs, late nights, and the kind of exhaustion that settles deep into your bones. Between editing photos, traveling between venues, sorting through thousands of shots, and trying to balance everyday responsibilities on top of it all, it would have been easy to feel overwhelmed, and sometimes I did. Yet through every moment of tiredness, God has continued to provide the strength and energy needed to accomplish everything that was already on the calendar. Even when the schedule felt packed beyond reason, nothing had to be missed or canceled, including sitting down to write this reflection. Looking back on the week, it is hard not to see God’s hand sustaining every moment of it.

What has made this week even more encouraging is seeing a couple of amazing photography contracts get approved for Christian artists like TobyMac and Michael W. Smith. Opportunities like these feel especially meaningful right now because over the last several weeks there has been a growing conviction in my heart regarding some of the bands and environments I have been covering. While photography has opened countless doors and created incredible experiences, there has also been a deeper wrestling with whether every opportunity truly aligns with the direction God is calling me toward.

That is why seeing these new doors open feels so significant. It isn’t just about getting another contract or another show to photograph. It feels like confirmation that God hears those inner struggles and is gently guiding this journey in a direction that honors Him more fully. There is something refreshing about being able to combine creativity, passion, and faith in a way that feels spiritually uplifting rather than spiritually conflicting.

One of the most amazing things about following God is how often He provides reassurance at exactly the right time. Sometimes that reassurance comes through Scripture, sometimes through people, and sometimes through opportunities that seem to appear out of nowhere just when encouragement is needed most. These recent opportunities serve as a reminder that God is not absent from the details of our careers, hobbies, or dreams. He cares deeply about where we are being led and what influences shape our hearts along the way.

Even in the exhaustion of this busy week, there is a renewed sense of hope growing. Hope that this photography adventure is not just random chance or self made ambition, but something God can actively use for His glory. Hope that He is capable of opening the right doors while closing the wrong ones. And most importantly, hope in knowing that no matter how uncertain the future may feel at times, God continues to faithfully provide exactly what is needed for each step forward.

And always remember, God loves you, and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are

Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.

Follow Ben, and subscribe to Intellectual Dissatisfaction to receive next week’s edition.

Sermon Reflection

At first glance, 1 Corinthians 16:1-12 can feel like housekeeping at the end of Paul’s letter. But beneath the travel plans and financial instructions sits a deeply practical vision of resurrection hope shaping our generosity, priorities, and relationships.

Based on the sermon by Jonathan Land, Connection Church Sioux Falls, May 10, 2026.

The Gospel in Your Wallet, Schedule, and Relationships

Some passages feel electric the moment you read them. 1 Corinthians 15 is one of those chapters. Resurrection. Victory over death. The promise that Christ will return and mortality will put on immortality. It is theology with thunder in its lungs.

Then we arrive at 1 Corinthians 16:1-12.

Offerings. Travel plans. Timothy. Apollos. Logistics.

If we are honest, it can feel anticlimactic. Like the cinematic ending already happened and now the credits are rolling. Yet Scripture has a way of exposing our shallow assumptions about what matters. The same Spirit who inspired the soaring theology of resurrection also inspired these seemingly ordinary instructions.

And that is precisely the point.

Paul refuses to separate glorious theology from everyday life. Resurrection hope is not merely a doctrine to celebrate on Easter Sunday. It is a reality that changes bank accounts, calendars, open doors, and relationships. The Corinthians were not meant to admire resurrection from a distance. They were meant to embody it in their ordinary rhythms.

In many ways, this passage becomes a diagnostic tool. If the resurrection is truly our hope, then it should become visible in how we steward money, how we hold our plans, and how we treat people.

The World Behind the Text

Paul wrote 1 Corinthians to a fractured church living inside one of the most influential cities in the Roman Empire. Corinth was wealthy, competitive, status-driven, and spiritually confused. The church itself reflected many of those same cultural instincts. Throughout the letter Paul addresses division, sexual immorality, pride, abuse of spiritual gifts, and confusion about the resurrection.

By chapter 16, Paul begins landing the proverbial plane. But he does not conclude with abstract theology alone. Instead, he turns toward practical faithfulness.

The collection mentioned in 1 Corinthians 16:1-4 was likely tied to financial relief for struggling believers in Jerusalem. This was not a side project. It was an expression of gospel unity between Jewish and Gentile Christians across regions and cultures. Paul viewed generosity as evidence that the church truly understood grace.

Then come the travel plans in verses 5-9. Paul discusses Macedonia, Ephesus, and future hopes while acknowledging opposition. Ministry opportunity and adversity exist side by side.

Finally, Paul speaks about Timothy and Apollos in verses 10-12. Earlier in the letter, the Corinthians had divided themselves into factions around Christian leaders. Some claimed Paul. Others claimed Apollos. Paul dismantled that tribalism by reminding them that leaders are merely servants of Christ. Now, near the end of the letter, he circles back to relational unity in deeply practical language.

What appears random is actually connected. Paul is showing what resurrection-shaped community looks like in real life.

Walking the Passage

Paul begins with money.

“On the first day of every week, each of you is to put something aside and store it up, as he may prosper” (1 Corinthians 16:2 ESV).

Notice how universal the instruction is. Paul does not limit generosity to the wealthy. Every believer is called to participate according to what God has provided. Biblical generosity is not measured by comparison with others. It is measured through faithful stewardship.

One of the most striking ideas from this week’s message was the reminder that our income is not ultimately a wage. It is an inheritance.

Psalm 24:1 declares that the earth and everything in it belongs to the Lord. Our resources are not truly ours in an ultimate sense. They are entrusted to us by God. The Christian posture toward money is not ownership but stewardship, which challenges both greed and fear.

Greed says accumulation is life. Fear says generosity will leave us empty. Resurrection hope speaks against both lies. If Christ defeated death itself, then we are freed from clinging desperately to temporary security. Generosity becomes an act of trust. We give because we believe God is faithful.

Interpretation matters here. Paul is not prescribing a simplistic prosperity formula where generous people automatically become financially wealthy. Rather, he is showing that grace transforms how believers relate to possessions.

The resurrection loosens our grip on material things because eternity has already interrupted the present.

A Fair Counter-Reading

Some Christians read passages about generosity primarily through the lens of obligation. Others react against that by avoiding structured giving altogether, emphasizing spontaneity instead.

Both instincts can miss the balance of Paul’s teaching.

Paul clearly encourages intentional and regular generosity. “On the first day of every week” implies planning and consistency. Yet his language also avoids coercion. Elsewhere, Paul says God loves a cheerful giver in 2 Corinthians 9:7.

Christian generosity is neither transactional nor performative. It is worshipful. The same balance appears in how Paul discusses plans.

Verses 5-7 reveal that Paul has desires and intentions regarding future ministry. Christianity is not anti-planning. Wisdom often requires preparation, structure, and discipline. Yet Paul also leaves room for God’s sovereignty.

Modern life often swings between two extremes. Some people drift through life without intentionality. Others attempt to control every second with exhausting precision. Paul models something different. He plans faithfully while remaining flexible before the Lord.

“For a wide door for effective work has opened to me, and there are many adversaries” (1 Corinthians 16:9 ESV).

That verse disrupts many shallow assumptions about God’s will.

We often assume open doors should lead to comfort. If resistance appears, we may wonder whether we misunderstood God entirely. But Paul experienced both opportunity and opposition simultaneously.

The presence of adversity does not automatically mean God is absent.

Sometimes the clearest evidence of meaningful kingdom work is the existence of resistance against it. The world remains broken. Spiritual opposition is real. Faithfulness does not guarantee ease.

That truth is deeply important for weary believers. Parents discipling children. Church members serving quietly. Christians pursuing integrity in hostile workplaces. Faithfulness can involve friction.

Resurrection hope does not promise an easy road. It promises that suffering and opposition will not have the final word.

Paul then turns toward relationships.

“When Timothy comes, see that you put him at ease among you” (1 Corinthians 16:10 ESV).

That phrase carries warmth. Paul is not merely asking the Corinthians to tolerate Timothy. He is calling them to create an atmosphere of peace and welcome.

Make him feel at home.

In a divided church, that command becomes profound. Earlier in Corinthians, people weaponized spiritual leaders to create factions and status groups. Now Paul reminds them that gospel community should produce unity rather than rivalry.

Apollos appears again in verse 12. Earlier, the Corinthians elevated him into a competing banner against Paul. Yet there is no bitterness between these leaders. No celebrity warfare. No territorial insecurity.

Only partnership in Christ.

That vision feels desperately relevant today. Churches can still drift into camps built around personalities, preferences, and tribes. Paul reminds believers that resurrection hope should produce humility and hospitality instead.

Because Jesus rose from the dead, Christians do not need to treat one another like competitors.

The Turn

What makes this passage beautiful is that Paul refuses to separate theology from ordinary life. The resurrection is not merely future hope. It is present foundation.

It shapes how we spend money when nobody is watching. It shapes whether our schedules leave room for interruption and obedience. It shapes whether people experience peace in our presence or tension when we enter the room.

That last part hit especially hard this week.

What kind of atmosphere do we create around us?

Paul wanted Timothy to be “at ease” among the Corinthians. Imagine if churches became known for that kind of culture. A place where anxious people could breathe. A place without constant drama, suspicion, or performance. A people shaped by grace rather than ego.

Resurrection people should carry resurrection peace. Not because life is easy, but because Christ is alive.

The empty tomb means we no longer need to live from scarcity, fear, or tribalism. Christ has already secured our future. That frees us to become radically generous, deeply hospitable, and courageously faithful.

Even in ordinary things. Especially in ordinary things.

Carry It Into the Week

Most of life is not lived in dramatic spiritual moments.

It is lived in schedules, conversations, grocery budgets, text messages, meetings, and interrupted plans. 1 Corinthians 16 reminds us that discipleship happens there too.

So ask yourself:

Does my relationship with money reflect trust in God or fear of losing control?

Do my plans leave room for obedience, interruptions, and people?

Do others feel at ease around me?

The resurrection is not only something we believe. It is something we practice. And sometimes the clearest evidence of eternal hope is found in the ordinary faithfulness of everyday life.

Song of the Week: All Around Me - Flyleaf

I’ve realized lately that most of my song choices have lived in a very specific lane of worship music. The polished, radio friendly, soft instrumental style that most people immediately think of when they hear the phrase “Christian music.” But worship has never really been a cookie cutter experience. The beauty of music centered around faith is that it can exist in so many different sounds, styles, and emotions while still pointing directly back to God. Sometimes worship sounds like a quiet piano ballad. Other times it sounds like distorted guitars, heavy drums, and raw emotion pouring out through every lyric. That is where bands like Flyleaf come in.

Formed in 2002, Flyleaf carved out a unique space in music by blending hard rock and alternative metal sounds with deeply spiritual and emotional themes. They were one of the few bands that could comfortably exist on Christian rock charts while also finding massive success in mainstream secular rock spaces. For a lot of listeners, especially younger Christians trying to find music that reflected both their faith and their struggles, Flyleaf became something entirely different than the traditional worship bands of the time. Their music was honest. It was messy. It wrestled with pain, identity, hopelessness, healing, and redemption in ways that felt real instead of polished.

The song this week, “All Around Me,” may honestly be one of the clearest examples of that balance. On the surface, it sounds like a passionate love song. But underneath every lyric is a longing for connection with God and the overwhelming experience of being consumed by His presence. Lead singer Lacey Sturm has openly confirmed that the song is about experiencing the love and presence of God in an intimate and transformative way.

Knowing Lacey’s testimony gives the song even more weight. Before finding faith, she struggled deeply with depression, hopelessness, and suicidal thoughts during her teenage years. She has shared how her grandmother brought her to church during one of the darkest moments of her life, and that encounter with God completely changed the direction she was heading. Instead of finding an ending, she found hope. Instead of silence, she found purpose. And you can hear pieces of that journey all throughout Flyleaf’s music.

That is part of what makes “All Around Me” so impactful. It doesn’t feel theoretical or manufactured. It feels lived in. The lyrics sound like someone who has genuinely experienced healing after being completely broken.

The chorus especially captures that feeling perfectly:

“I can feel You all around me
Thickening the air I’m breathing
Holding on to what I’m feeling
Savoring this heart that’s healing.”

Even if someone is not religious, those words carry an undeniable emotion. The imagery alone is incredible. God’s presence is described as something so overwhelming it changes the very air around us. Not distant. Not detached. Completely surrounding us. Filling every space we occupy. There is something beautiful about the idea that God is not merely watching from afar, but actively sustaining us with every breath we take while slowly healing the broken places in our hearts.

I think that is why this song continues to resonate with so many people years later. It does not hide pain, but it also does not leave you there. It acknowledges wounds while reminding listeners that healing is possible. And sometimes worship music needs to sound exactly like that. Not polished perfection, but honest surrender.

For me, songs like this are an important reminder that faith centered music does not have to fit into one sound or one formula to point people toward God. Sometimes the message hits hardest through screaming vocals, crashing cymbals, and emotional transparency. Worship can be quiet reflection, but it can also be desperation, intensity, and raw gratitude for being pulled out of darkness.

And honestly, that may be what Flyleaf does best.

Week in Reflection

This week was filled with incredible moments of fellowship with other Godly men. Not just during the weekly men’s group I attend every Friday morning, but also through Connection’s Men’s Summit, which centered around the challenge Paul gives in 1 Corinthians 16:13-14 to be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong, and let everything we do be done in love. It perfectly connected with our current walk through 1 Corinthians during Sunday services, making the entire week feel intentionally woven together by God.

There is something powerful about being in a room full of men who are genuinely seeking Jesus. In a world that often tells men to suppress emotion, pursue selfish ambition, or define strength through dominance, gatherings like this remind us what Biblical manhood actually looks like. Real strength is found in surrender to Christ. Real courage is standing firm in faith when culture pushes against it. Real leadership is serving others with humility and love.

What stood out most throughout the summit was the camaraderie. The conversations, the laughter, the honesty, and even the vulnerability created an atmosphere that is difficult to put into words. Men from different backgrounds, different seasons of life, and different struggles all came together with one common focus: learning how to better follow Jesus and lead lives that honor Him. There is encouragement that comes from realizing you are not fighting alone. Every discussion held served as a reminder that God designed us for community, not isolation.

One of the most impactful parts of the week was seeing how openly men were willing to challenge and encourage one another. Iron sharpens iron is more than just a catchy phrase; it is something you can actually feel when surrounded by brothers in Christ who genuinely want to see each other grow spiritually. There was no competition, no pretending to have life perfectly together, just men pursuing God and helping one another stay centered on Him.

The summit also reinforced how important it is for men to lead spiritually in every area of life. Whether as husbands, fathers, friends, coworkers, or simply representatives of Christ in everyday interactions, we are called to reflect Jesus through both strength and love. That balance can sometimes feel difficult, but Scripture never separates the two. Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians remind us that standing firm and being strong should always be paired with love. Without love, strength becomes pride. Without strength, love becomes passive. Christ demonstrated both perfectly.

Walking away from this week, I feel encouraged, challenged, and grateful. Encouraged by the brotherhood that was built, challenged to continue growing into the man God calls me to be, and grateful for a church community that invests so intentionally into men pursuing Jesus together. Weeks like this are reminders that faith was never meant to be lived alone. God uses fellowship, accountability, and shared worship to strengthen us in ways we often do not realize until we experience it firsthand.

And remember, God loves you and so do I.

Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are