The longing!

God has placed a profound void within every human heart—a deep, innate longing for something infinitely greater than anything this world can offer. As Scripture affirms, He “has set eternity in the human heart” (Ecclesiastes 3:11), designing us with an eternal capacity that only He can fulfill. This built-in desire draws us toward Him, yet in our fallen state, it often pulls us in the opposite direction. We chase after pleasures, achievements, relationships, and possessions—anything we believe might finally satisfy or complete us. Our sinful nature drowns out this true longing beneath layers of competing fleshly cravings and distractions.

But the ache remains. It is God Himself who works in us, giving us both the desire and the power to pursue what truly pleases Him (Philippians 2:13). Only when we turn from lesser things and rest in Christ does the restlessness find its true home.

Lord, grant me to delight in You alone—undividedly, exclusively, and eternally. Let my heart find its sole and supreme joy in You forever. Amen.

The Sunrise from on High!

In Luke 1:78, part of Zechariah’s prophetic song (the Benedictus) captures the essence of divine visitation: after centuries of spiritual darkness—sin, oppression, and the shadow of death—the promised Savior arrives like the first light of dawn breaking over the horizon. Not a harsh glare, but a gentle, warming, life-giving radiance from heaven itself that illuminates those sitting in gloom, scatters the night, and guides feet into the path of peace (v. 79).

The “Sunrise from on high” is Jesus, the Light of the world (John 1:4–9), descending in mercy to visit and redeem. Zechariah’s words blend Old Testament hopes (like Malachi 4:2’s “Sun of Righteousness”) with the wonder of incarnation: God Himself draws near, dawn personified, to end the long night and usher in eternal day.

God opposes the proud

“Who then is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” Jesus answered by calling a little child and placing him among them. “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:1–3

Notice the shock of His answer. The disciples asked about greatness in the Kingdom, and Jesus responded by stating the entry criteria into the kingdom . In effect, He said: forget about who is greatest, you may not even make it in. This was not spoken to pagans, idol worshippers, or outsiders. This was spoken to disciples. Men who walked with Jesus, served Him, heard His teaching daily, and were actively involved in ministry. The warning is unmistakable: Unchecked pride can disqualify you from the Kingdom, proximity to Jesus does not guarantee entry into the Kingdom. Activity does not replace humility. Service does not cancel pride.

This was not an isolated moment. On another occasion, when the disciples returned rejoicing that demons submitted to them, Jesus shut down their celebration. “Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” In other words: Get your priorities right!

We often speak of salvation when evangelising the world, but rarely do we turn the lens inward. Yet Scripture forces us to. Judas walked with the Twelve, heard Jesus teach day and night, handled ministry finances, and kissed the Son of God, yet never belonged to Him. (Jesus answered them, “Did I not choose you, the twelve? And yet one of you is a devil.” He spoke of Judas the son of Simon Iscariot, for he, one of the twelve, was going to betray him). That alone should terrify comfortable Christianity. It is entirely possible to be deeply involved in church, active in ministry, fluent in Scripture, admired by others, and be full of ourselves; traveling confidently down the ‘broad road’ toward the wrong destination.

Jesus Himself redefines salvation in sobering terms. “Many will say to Me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy, cast out demons, and perform miracles in Your name?’ And I will say to them plainly, ‘Depart from Me. I never knew you.’” Power is not proof of salvation. Ministry success is not evidence of intimacy. Spiritual activity can coexist with spiritual deception. Salvation is not defined by what we do for God, but by whether God knows us. And pride is one of the clearest roadblocks to intimacy. Peter confirms it plainly: “God opposes the proud.” Not ignores. Not tolerates. Opposes. God actively resists the proud, even when they are religious.

Jesus drives this point home in the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector. The Pharisee is moral, disciplined, doctrinally sound, and visibly religious. The tax collector is an outcast—grouped by Jesus elsewhere with pagans and sinners. Yet the Pharisee prays with pride, and the tax collector prays with brokenness. One goes home rejected. The other goes home justified. Heaven closes its door to the religious man and opens it to the humble sinner. Humility changes everything. This should shake us. Jesus embraces the broken, the sinful, the ashamed, when they come low. And He may reject those we admire as godly when pride rules their hearts. God sees what we do not. He does not evaluate by visibility, reputation, or ministry output. He judges the heart.

I believe we still have Pharisees in our churches. And I believe we also have liars, manipulators, sexually broken people, addicts, and deeply flawed sinners sitting beside them. The difference is not the sin, it is the posture. One comes justified because he knows he is unworthy. The other is rejected because he assumes he is. The tax collector went home justified. The Pharisee went home deceived.

That reality should not make us debate theology. It should drive us to our knees.

Lord, expose every trace of pride in my heart—especially the kind dressed in religion, knowledge, and service. Deliver me from trusting my activity instead of my humility, my obedience instead of Your mercy, my reputation instead of Your grace. Make me low before You. Teach me to tremble more than I perform, to repent more than I impress, and to depend more than I boast. Do not let me be near Your Kingdom yet barred from entering it. Search me, break me, and keep me small, that You alone may be great in me. In Jesus’ name, amen.

What Is It That You Want?

Matthew 20:17–34. 21 “What is it you want?” he asked. She said, “Grant that one of these two sons of mine may sit at your right and the other at your left in your kingdom.” 32 Jesus stopped and called them. “What do you want me to do for you?” he asked. 33 “Lord,” they answered, “we want our sight.”

When Jesus asked, “What is it you want?” He asked it twice in the same chapter, but to very different people. In Matthew 20:21, the mother of James and John came to Jesus and asked that one of her sons would sit at His right hand and the other at His left in His Kingdom. This request came from a place of closeness, familiarity, and ambition for greatness. Later in the same chapter, two blind beggars sat by the roadside crying out desperately for mercy. Though the crowd tried to silence them, they continued to shout. Jesus stopped and asked them the same question: “What do you want Me to do for you?” Their answer was simple and honest: “Lord, we want our sight.” At first glance, the question may seem unnecessary because their need was obvious. Yet Jesus asked it anyway, because what we ask reveals what we truly desire.

When James and John’s mother made her request, Jesus responded, “You do not know what you are asking.” She was seeking position and honour without understanding the cost. Immediately after this encounter, Jesus reminded His disciples that the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many. Greatness in God’s Kingdom is not about status but about sacrifice. The blind beggars could have asked for many things. They could have asked to sit near Jesus or to be recognised by Him. Instead, they asked for mercy and for sight. Their request came from desperation, humility, and clarity of need. Though blind, they saw more clearly than those who walked closely with Jesus.

All of us are at different stages of life and carry different needs and burdens. Because of this, we ask for different things. Some seek healing, others provision, others direction. Yet it is worth pausing to ask whether our prayers are shaped more by ambition than by surrender.

Jesus Himself did not seek position at the right or left of the Father. He sought the strength and grace to fulfil His purpose, which was to serve and to give His life for others. His prayer was not for elevation but for obedience. So we must ask ourselves: What are we asking God for? Is it promotion, a bigger salary, a better home, or greater recognition? Do we ever ask God for the grace to serve others? Do we ask Him to humble us, to help us put others before ourselves, to forgive when we have been wronged, to love those who despise or humiliate us? Do we ask Him to remove bitterness, grudges, and the desire for revenge? Do we ask Him for compassion to weep with those who suffer, even when they have hurt us?

This is service. This is what Jesus meant when He spoke of greatness. When the disciples asked about sitting at His right and left, He pointed them toward humility. In the Kingdom of God, the greatest are not those who seek position, but those who are lowly and humble in heart.

Lord, search my heart and reveal what I truly want. Purify my desires and renew my mind. Teach me to ask not for position, but for grace; not for recognition, but for humility; not to be served, but to serve. Give me the strength to forgive, the courage to love when it is costly, and the humility to place others before myself. Shape my heart to desire what pleases You above all else. In Jesus’ name, amen.