Category: Devotional

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied. Mathew 5:6 ( NASB)

Lord, we must be honest before You: many of us want the appearance of holiness more than the nature of it. It is striking that many Christian leaders are not undone by smoking, drugs, or alcoholism. More often, they are exposed by illicit affairs or long confessions of bondage to pornography. Why? Because these are hidden sins. Sins that allow a man to remain entertained in secret while still maintaining a public ministry. Sins that let the sermon survive while the soul decays.

Mediocrity sets in. Familiarity replaces fear. Routine replaces reverence. Performance replaces purity. Holiness becomes something we play, not something we are. God asks us to “Be holy”, not do holy things (1 Peter 1:16). We learn how to switch it on for Sunday services, cell groups, Bible studies, and Christian gatherings. And alongside that public life, a private life of immorality and self-indulgence quietly continues. Two lives. One reputation. One hidden reality. At that point, we must ask an uncomfortable question:
Did we ever want God’s nature, or did we only want the reputation of having it?
Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.” (Matthew 5:6). He did not say, “Blessed are those who want to be known as righteous.”

The desire to be seen, admired, and applauded is not new. It is woven into the old man—the flesh. Scripture calls it the boastful pride of life(1 John 2:16). And this battle is daily: Will we live before men, or will we live before God? Hidden sin may survive before people, but it never survives before God. And when hidden sin is tolerated, it exposes something devastating: we were never pursuing holiness at all. We were simply using the church—its language, its platform, its culture—to chase the same thing the world chases: reputation and public approval.

Let us repent. Let us return to the words of Jesus and sit with them slowly: “Hunger and thirst for righteousness.” Not recognition. Not influence. Not visibility. Righteousness!
This must become our desire, our passion, our pursuit—every moment we live. Jesus Himself is our pattern. For the first thirty years of His life, He had almost no reputation at all. No platform. No crowds. No applause. He was not seeking to be known—He was seeking to please the Father.

And that is the call before us now. Not to protect an image. Not to polish a ministry.
But to cry out with honesty: “Lord, give us Your nature—even if it costs us our reputation.”
Because a righteousness that exists only before people is hypocrisy.
But righteousness that exists before God is Holiness.

Prayer

Lord, We confess that we have often loved the praise of people more than the pleasure of Your presence. We have guarded our reputation while neglecting our hearts. Forgive us for tolerating hidden sin and calling it weakness instead of calling it disobedience. Strip us of every false image we have built and clothe us instead with the righteousness of Christ. Give us a holy hunger—not to be seen as righteous, but to truly become righteous. Search us, expose us, and transform us. We want Your nature, not a name. Your approval, not applause. Your holiness, not our image. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Quote : Public righteousness without private holiness is hypocrisy.

Today I heard that a widely respected Christian author and preacher, now 76 years old, a man who has spent almost a lifetime writing books that have blessed millions, has confessed to an affair that lasted eight years. This is not the first time we have heard such news. We remember others, public servants of God, who fell during the COVID period, some of whom are no longer alive to speak for themselves. And as the news broke, my mind did not rush to his sin. It drifted to our response.
 
What I witnessed
Within hours, clips flooded YouTube and social media; shock, disbelief, outrage.
“How could this happen?”. “How did he fall so far?”. Then came the predictable chorus: name-calling, public disqualification, mockery, speculation, exaggeration, ridicule, targeted humiliation; mostly from fellow Christians. The church did not pray.  It pounced. Like a pride of hungry lions on a wounded deer, we ripped and tore while he was still alive. We called it “discernment.” We called it “protecting the flock.” But what it often was, was self-righteous cruelty dressed in spiritual language. Yes, there will be consequences. He will step down from leadership. He will likely never be received the same way again. His future words will be filtered through suspicion. Friends will quietly distance themselves. His name, once spoken with respect, honour and gratitude, will now be spoken with shame and disgrace. In short, he will be rejected. And perhaps the most tragic part: he will feel condemned, not only by his own conscience, but by the very community that preaches forgiveness, mercy and grace. If not now, when else can we practice what we preach!.
 
Joseph’s Response
Consider Joseph. When he discovered that Mary was pregnant, the most natural conclusion was betrayal. He had every legal and cultural right to expose her. Public shaming would have been justified in the eyes of the law. But Joseph chose another way. He resolved to step back quietly. No spectacle. No naming and shaming. No moral theatre. His restraint was not weakness, it was righteousness. The only reason he acted at all was obedience to God, not a hunger to be proven righteous.
 
God’s Response
Now let us pause and look at God’s pattern, not ours. Scripture tells us of a man who lived long ago, a man God Himself called “a man after My own heart.” God lifted him from anonymity, from tending sheep, from running for his life, and seated him on a throne as king. That man abused his power. He took another man’s wife and arranged her husband’s death. He lived in deception for over a year, continuing his public duties as if nothing had happened. If ever there was a case for permanent disqualification, this was it. And yet, when confronted and broken in repentance, God did something amazing. He forgave him. Not only that, God allowed him to continue to write and minister. God published his prayers, poems, and songs, not in an obscure appendix, but at the very heart of Scripture. Thousands of years later, God did not introduce him primarily as “the adulterer” or “the murderer”. God remembered him as David and the ultimate honour; Jesus Himself was called the Son of David. This does not minimise David’s sin. It magnifies God’s mercy. God did not pretend the sin never happened, but He also refused to let sin have the final word. He always has the final word, in all things. He is God,…remember? Sovereign and supreme.
 
….And Now Us
How do we respond when someone else falls? Do we forward the news under the banner of “discernment” while spreading gossip? Do we disguise curiosity as concern?
Do we host prayer meetings and Bible studies that quietly feed on scandal; a hot coffee, a cold heart, a cynical mind and caustic remarks. We say, “He let us down.” But I ask, what promise did he ever make to you? We act betrayed, as if our faith was anchored in a man rather than in Christ. This is not a call to excuse sin. This is not a plea to ignore accountability. But it is a warning: that while we point out that he failed to guard his heart, we must guard our own hearts from becoming ‘Pharisaical’. “God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.” (Luke 18:9-14 NIV). Jesus says the tax collector went home justified,  while the religious man went home condemned.

A fallen preacher should cause fear, not fascination. Tears, not triumph. Self-examination, not self-exaltation. Because when a brother falls, the real question is not “How could he?” . That is between God and him.  

The real question is: “What does my response reveal about the state of my own heart?” 

Keep watching and praying, so that you do not come into temptation; the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Matthew 26:41(NASB)

Jesus said, “Pray lest you fall into temptation.” And unlike me, He lived it. To see this clearly, we only need to look at one moment: the Garden of Gethsemane. The garden gives us one of the clearest pictures of Jesus and us. It contrasts Jesus and us. Jesus is on His knees before the Father. The disciples, are on their backs. Jesus is weeping. They are sleeping. Jesus is watching. They are resting. Same night. Same pressure. Same warning. Different outcomes. That tells us everything about how temptation is faced.

Jesus did not stumble into temptation. He ran into prayer. This was not polite prayer. This was not quiet time. This was war. Luke tells us His sweat became like drops of blood.
Why such anguish? Not fear of pain. Not fear of death but fear of disobedience. Jesus was tempted, “Can I escape the cross?” So He kept praying , “Father, keep Me obedient.”

Here is the difference between Him and us: Jesus prayed for victory before temptation.

Jesus did not pray casually. He prayed honestly and earnestly. He prayed until the battle was won. Jesus prayed for victory before temptation. We often pray for forgiveness after failure. Jesus dug His well before He was thirsty. We dig ours after we are dry, desperate and ashamed.

And Scripture says He prayed three times. Why? Because prayer was not a checkbox. Prayer was not symbolic. Prayer was how obedience was settled. He prayed until His will was aligned. He prayed until heaven ruled His flesh. He crucified His flesh (Gal 5:24) before the Romans crucified him. He prayed until He was ready. And then He said something astonishing: “The hour has come.” How could He say that? Because the battle was already won. That is why later, before Pilate, before Caiaphas, before mockery, slander, and humiliation, He stood silent. No panic. No compromise. No collapse. Gethsemane made Calvary possible.

And then Jesus turned to the disciples and asked a question that still echoes today : “Could you not watch with Me for one hour?” That was not a rebuke only. It was a revelation. Because the disciples did not fail in the courtyard, they failed in the garden. Peter did not fall in the courtyard but fell when he slept instead of praying. And we are no different. We want strength without struggle. Victory without vigilance. Power without prayer.

But it does not work that way. Jesus is not asking us today for sympathy. He is asking for battle in prayer. Pray before you fall. Watch before you weaken. Settle obedience on your knees, not in regret. Because the battle is never first lost in public. It is always lost in private.

Are we willing to pray desperately until obedience is settled?

If we keep sleeping, we will keep falling. If we keep praying after the fall, we will keep repeating the cycle. But if we learn to pray like Jesus prayed, earnestly and desperately, we will stand where we once collapsed. Victory is not won in the moment of temptation. It is won in prayer before temptation ever comes.

Prayer

Lord Jesus, Forgive us for sleeping where You prayed, and resting where You wrestled. Teach us to pray before the battle, not just repent after the fall. Give us hearts that fear disobedience more than discomfort. Train us to watch, to endure, and to win our battles on our knees. Make us followers not just of Your cross, but of Your prayer life. Amen.

Quote

• The battle was settled in the garden; the victory was displayed at the cross
• What we do in the garden defines how we face the cross.
• The cross is faced by those who first knelt in the garden