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
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
