Discovering Who Jesus Is: Seven Days on the Seven I Am Statements

Scripture: Colossians 1:16-20

A Beginning

When I look at the moon, I marvel. I marvel because it is so far away, yet it shines so bright. I marvel because its brightness is not its own but belongs to another. I marvel because it’s still there even if hidden by cloud cover. It is veiled but present. Obscured but ever vigilant. And I marvel because in the summer of 1969, a man in a tiny spaceship, who flew 240,000 miles with bread and wine in his possession and then thought of the body and blood of Jesus, ate the Last Supper for the first time in the history of the universe on that celestial body. His name was Buzz Aldrin. 

When I look at the sky at night and see the moonlit wonder, the explosions of stars, I ask God,How is it that you even notice me? 

He had come for all mankind. The night before He was crucified, He took the meal that Buzz Aldrin remembered. 

Jesus’ hands held a cup. He lifted it toward his friends. 

You will betray me.

Deny me.

Abandon me.

This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins (Matt. 26:28 NIV). 

Jesus’ hands held a cross. 

Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do (Luke 23:34). His hands did not shake. For this purpose he had come. 

Jesus’ hands hold the world. 

“Through the Son everything was created, both in the heavenly realm and on the earth, all that is seen and all that is unseen. Every seat of power, realm of government, principality, and authority—it was all created through him and for his purpose! He existed before anything was made, and now everything finds completion in him” (Col. 1:16–17 TPT). 

The meal was pregnant with meaning. 

As his body began to assimilate the bread and wine, making them a part of his cellular structure, he prepared for the mission he had come for. 

As Eugene Peterson paraphrased, “He was supreme in the beginning, leading the resurrection parade, and he is supreme in the end. From beginning to end, he’s there, towering far above everything, everyone. So spacious is he, so expansive, that everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding. Not only that but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross” (Col. 1:18–20 msg). 

Where Jesus’ life ended, yours began. His final breath put new air in your lungs. 

He did not come to make bad good but bring the dead to life. 

That spark of the gospel, that victorious resurrection-life that comes into the human heart at salvation, is just the start. Where it ends only you can decide. 

I fear we think of the cross and resurrection too little and too lightly. It comes up in the days leading up to Easter. At our best, we take a Lent journey or Passion Week trip in our minds in the same way we count down to Christmas. Then we pack it all up and put it into the boxes in the garage, between Halloween scarecrows and Christmas lights, until next year. 

We do this not only with decorations but also deeper within our hearts. When Jesus died on the cross and rose from the dead, it wasn’t the last chapter but the start of a whole new story. Not an end but a beginning. A beginning to a new way to be human. A fresh way to be you—as you were intended to be and are capable of becoming. Childlike but not childish. Without insecurity and toxic thoughts driving how you behave. With vulnerability and empathy. Tapped into kindness and selflessness. Noble, light, and free. Transparent, triumphant, and tender. For the next seven days, let’s look at who this Jesus is. Who this King and Savior and risen Lord is. We will do so by looking at the seven “I am” statements in scripture. This is an opportunity to lose and find yourself in one of the remarkable sevens that guide us through the death, life, and heart of Jesus and what he is calling you to right here and right now.

Scripture: John 6:35

Let The Party Continue 

The table in our house is built on a cross. Literally. We commissioned it from a fabulous furniture maker by the name of Levi, who runs a company called Birch and Bennett Co. We wanted reclaimed wood on the top, but we also wanted the structure underneath to be metal and have a modern feel. He sourced the wood from a hundred-year-old church building; the surface buffed smooth by ten decades of footsteps. And he built a cross into the design—an enormous, seven-foot, stainless steel cross forms the base for the table. 

This table is now the heart of our home, and the cross is the heart of the table. Games are played, prayers are prayed. Hands are held. Tears are shed. Life is lived. And, of course, food is eaten. 

At its core, food is intrinsically social. It’s connected to relationships like air is to breathing. There’s something about coming together and eating with someone that is both intimate and endearing. It can also be humbling because it’s tough to eat buffalo wings and not appear clumsy. 

It is with this rich, sensual, symbolic imagery in mind that we are ready to begin our approach to the concept of Jesus’ first “I Am” declaration recorded in the Gospel of John. “I am the bread of life” (John 6:35 NKJV). 

Bread abounds in the life of Jesus. From the bread Satan tried to get him to make out of rocks (Matt. 4:3) to the bread of the Last Supper, this wonderful food features prominently in Jesus’ three years of public ministry. 

We know that one of Jesus’ favorite things to do was break bread with people—any people. Sinners, saints, prostitutes, publicans. He was nicknamed the friend of sinners (Matt. 11:9) and was willing to eat with anyone who wanted to hang. Jesus, the party animal. Probably not the image Sunday school drove home for you. But the popular image of the Son of Man’s ministry is summarized by the three words eating and drinking. 

Matthew 9:11 explains, “When the Pharisees saw it, they said to His disciples, ‘Why does your Teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?’” (NKJV). With contempt, Jesus’ enemies spit through their teeth while talking about the riffraff with who Jesus sat around the table. They simply couldn’t fathom why he would allow himself to be united with people who would defile him with their super sinful cooties. Jesus wasn’t surprised or worried about being defiled by people’s dirty, sinful condition. That’s the reason He came. 

The church is a table held up by a cross. It is nineteen people crammed into a booth for a dinner party. And speaking of parties, Jesus frequently compared the kingdom of God to the festivities that accompanied a wedding. 

Weddings, and the parties surrounding them, are often the pinnacle of human joy. You put on your best clothes and come ready to laugh until it hurts. And eat lots of dessert. Dancing. Crying. Watching the ring bearer veer off course or the flower girl get stage fright. It’s all the best parts of being alive. And that is God’s kingdom. 

All of history points forward to and is explained by, feasting…celebration…a party. This is why turning water into wine at a wedding was Jesus’ first miracle. He was pointing to life on the other side of Gethsemane. It was in that garden, as he prayed that he contemplated taking up the cup. In the end, despite everything in him telling him not to do it, he was willing to go through with the plan for the joy that was set before him (Heb. 12:2). Whose joy? Yours! 

He swallowed your sorrow so you could sip on joy! That is why I want you to wonder at the majesty of space. To explore the moon and be willing to explore your own soul. It can awaken your curiosity so God’s goodness can free you from the somber seriousness of religion and allow the vitality of friendship to lead you down a path of celebration and excitement, and newness. Heaven is not just out there; the kingdom of God is within, in your inner space. 

Response 

Who is someone in your life that you can invite to your table–literally or metaphorically? Ask God to show you any areas in your life you’ve been not so happy as He means you to be, and ask him to breathe vibrancy and joy into those areas. 

Prayer 

Jesus, thank you for being a God who eats and drinks with sinners. Thank you for the relationship and life and celebration I find in you. Help me to bring that life to others,

Scripture: John 8:12

If Not Me, Another 

You can’t stare at the sun without damaging your eyes, but you can stare at the moon for hours. And when you do, the moon is actually allowing you to enjoy the sun’s light that’s not safe to look at directly. In fact, all the moon’s light is borrowed.

In John 1, we read about the men who came to Jesus’ cousin John asking him who he was. They wanted to know, “Are you the sun?”

“No,” he said. “I am the moon. The sun is coming.”

And the Son did come. And John the Baptist rejoiced. Remember, the moon gives off no light of its own. Its glow belongs to another. We see it shine in the night sky, but it reflects the star that is the light at the center of our solar system.

It is impossible to overstate how vital light was in Jesus’ day. There were no streetlights, no flashlights, and no iPhone lights you could turn on. When the sun went down, you couldn’t flip a switch and bathe your home with light.

If the sun went down and you didn’t have a light with you, well, you were in very real danger. A lit lamp gave you safety and the ability to travel, read, talk with a friend, and cook food.

Jesus is God’s light come into our world to show us the way, comfort us, and illuminate our hearts and lives with His glory. When we have his light, we can see God clearly, we can see ourselves clearly, and we can see each other clearly. When the light dims, and we begin to stray from him, everything gets dim. We start to think we look better than we do.

I always think I look pretty good in airplane bathrooms. It’s the dim light. Unhealthy things grow in our hearts when we are in the dark. That is why we need constant exposure to his light, which sanitizes, purifies, and disinfects.

One of the reasons we read, memorize, meditate on, and apply God’s Word is because it gives us access to the light we need. Psalm 119:105 reminds us, “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (NKJV).

The light you find in God’s Word will reset the things that are out of whack in your heart and mind. 

God is the sun; we are the moon. God made two great lights—the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night (Gen. 1:16). We don’t produce any light, but as we follow his orbit round and round, we get to glow.

What’s beautiful about this arrangement is that it takes all the pressure off. You don’t have to conjure up the light; that’s the sun’s job. The moon doesn’t have to strain; it just needs to reflect.

At the moment of our salvation, Jesus puts his life and light inside us. Our job now is to keep from obscuring and hiding the light.

When the sun rises in the morning, don’t miss it. But also take heart knowing that you are not the sun; the responsibility to shine is not yours. It is God’s, and he loves you. Think of it: the most important person in the universe loves you!

So rest well.

Good night, moon. 

Response 

Think of a time when the light of Jesus impacted you. In what areas have you been carrying the pressure of being and doing and producing and straining? Ask God to show you the places you need to hand over to him and just rest and reflect. 

Prayer 

Lord, allow me to reflect your light today in everything I say and do.

Scripture: John 10:9, John 10:11

Nine and a Half Fingers 

Barbershop conversations are one of the simple pleasures of life. The way men so freely dialogue with perfect strangers in that environment is a thing of beauty. Cars. Projects. Adventures. Kids. Work. Conspiracy theories. It’s pretty predictable and often mindless, but it is enjoyable. As long as it doesn’t get political. 

I was sitting in the chair at the barbershop one Saturday morning when a man walked in and plopped down. He was in his fifties, short, stout, and had a friendly disposition. He had long, shoulder-length, silvery gray hair. “I’m cutting it all off,” he announced. 

My barber and this newcomer, who had introduced himself as Tony, began talking. My interest was piqued when in passing, Tony mentioned that he had just spent a year living in an Airstream trailer seeing the country. This was a curiosity gold mine for me, and my new goal became getting Tony with the long hair to tell all on his cross-country trailer adventure. 

And tell he did. 

I said, “It sounds amazing, but I would probably need to wait for the kids to move out of the house.” 

He piped back, “A divorce worked for me.” 

We were deep into his favorite things about his Airstream when the door opened, and another man with shoulder-length hair burst in. He headed straight for the bar (yes, there was one) and poured himself a whiskey (I know, but this is Montana), then plopped down two seats from Tony. The new guy was about the same height as Tony and built like a bulldog. His frame was compact but brawny, and my money was that he was in the construction trade, judging from a build clearly forged from hard work with his hands. Speaking of his hands, I noticed immediately that the pointer finger on his left hand was missing at the middle knuckle. Medical tape over the nub was now the end of that digit. It seemed fresh too. I was done with the Airstream stories and really hoped that I could probe the depths of the mystery of the missing finger by the end of my haircut. But I had to play it cool. Barbershop etiquette. The convo is freewheeling and must not be forced. 

New guy and Tony started up a little get-to-know-you banter, but I wasn’t really paying attention; I was too distracted by his finger as he held his whiskey glass. I heard him say his name was Spike at one point and noticed he described himself as a punk-rock skater rat. 

I sensed my opportunity for a good finger-amputation story passing as Tony and Spike made small talk, but then out of nowhere, hope revived when Spike said something about the last year being rough because he got some sort of bacterial or viral infection in his hand that ended up being really serious. My ears perked up. Careful to not sound too eager, I asked if that was what had caused the injury on his left hand. Maybe his finger was taken by some invisible, flesh-eating attack. Now that his hand injuries were on the table, I seized the opportunity. 

“Oh, this?” He pointed at me with the stump of his left index finger. “Nah. I cut this off with a table saw a few weeks ago while at work.” 

“Oh man,” I said. “That’s awful.” 

“Yeah,” he said as he gestured with a jerking motion. “I sneezed while making a cut and cut it right off. It was one hell of a sneeze,” he explained with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Jackpot. This was now one of the best barbershop stories I have ever heard. 

He added, “Crazy thing is, I heard it before I felt it. After the sneeze, I realized the saw made a funny noise like it was struggling to cut through something, but I didn’t feel anything right away. But when I looked down, the finger was cut off and hanging on by the skin.” 

I didn’t want any more details like that or I would get woozy. Still, I asked, “What did you do? Put it in milk?” He went on to talk all about the phantom sensations, the lack of depth perception with his new finger, and other such stories. 

Just then, my haircut ended. I said goodbye to my barber, Tony, and Spike, and I went on my way. I thought of them both as I walked toward my car. And they both have come to mind this week. Tony, because I have seen multiple Airstreams on the road, Spike because it’s spring, and I have been sneezy with all the pollen in the air. I don’t often use power tools, but it definitely put the fear of God in me about ever coming close to one without first having taken my Claritin. 

I tell you this story for two reasons. One, because it’s just a really good opportunity for me to tell you this crazy story that I couldn’t just keep to myself. And two, because it got me thinking how every person has a story, life experiences, long days, celebrations, journeys across the country, pains and heartaches, and everything in between. So do you. You are not just a number to your heavenly Father. Not just one of the trillions who have lived. He knows your name. And he wants to have a relationship with you. He cares about Tony and his divorce. Spike and his finger injury. Every good and bad thing you have faced matters to him. 

You have a Shepherd, and he cares for you. 

In calling himself a shepherd, Jesus was telling us that he is going to take care of us. To have a shepherd looking after you is to have someone completely devoted to you. Endless attention and meticulous care—that is what shepherds give to their sheep. Night and day, shepherds are on call. David chased down a bear and a lion to protect his sheep (1 Sam. 17:34–36). That’s what Jesus will do for you. 

But what about the fact that he called himself a gate? Middle Eastern sheep pens in those days would have been circular enclosures with a gap used for entry and no door. The shepherd would use these communal enclosures for the night and, after feeding and watering the flock, would lead them in. He would be the last to enter and would lie down in the opening. 

Jesus is a shepherd and a door because in this context the shepherd is the door. He would lay down his life for the sheep, metaphorically and literally. The message was clear to the wolf and every other predator out there: You first have to go through me to get these sheep. 

That is what your Savior did for you on the cross. No one took his life from him. He laid it down freely. 

You are free to enter through the door. You have in-and-out privileges. Come in and out and have good pasture. Listen to his voice. Call his name when you are in trouble. 

Even if it’s been a while and you are ashamed and feel bad. He will put you on his shoulders and sing and rejoice that you have been found (Luke 15:5). He loves you. 

You’ve heard that before, haven’t you? That God loves you? You might push back on that: “Yeah, yeah, Levi. He loves the whole world.” 

He does. But it’s not just the world. It’s you. He knows and loves you. 

Response 

Is there an area you’ve been holding back on account of you thinking the issue doesn’t matter to God? That it’s too small? That He has bigger fish to fry? Bring it to God today! 

Prayer 

Lord, thank you that you see me, that you care about me, and that you love me. Help me walk in the confidence and assurance that I’m loved by the God of the universe.

Scripture: John 11:25

Good Luck and God Speed 

One of Jesus’ names is the Becoming One. He becomes exactly what we long for. Jesus doesn’t have what you need; he is what you need. 

During Buzz and Neil’s final touchdown on the moon, they talked back and forth to CapCom Charlie Duke. No one gets to talk to the astronauts except the CapCom. It is that person’s job to translate all the craziness of the room to the astronauts in the air–calmly. 

The person selected to be the CapCom is always a fellow astronaut because they know what those in space are facing. They’ve been through it themselves. For Apollo 11, it was Charlie. He was one of them, so they trusted he knew what they were feeling and that he’d be on their side. 

This is why the incarnation (That’s a $500 bible word for God becoming Jesus, coming as a man with skin and bones) is so important. Jesus became a fellow astronaut. He is your friend, and the tears that Jesus wept in John 11:35 are proof. He knew what he was going to do but cried anyway. We do not have a High Priest who cannot relate. He was tempted in every way and was without sin (Heb. 4:15). 

Jesus can be that one voice in your headset. It is his job to listen to everything that is going on. We don’t have to worry about politics, money, careers, or what is going on in the world now or in the future. It is our job to stay close to him. To listen to his voice and draw near to him. 

Jesus put skin on, breathed our air, died our death, and rose to life. He has proven once and for all he is for us and victorious against anything that would stand against us. 

Jesus Christ is Lord! 

No matter what you are facing or what is weighing you down today or breaking your heart, Jesus cares. Yes, he will work it all for good and weave gold out of garbage, for sure. But he doesn’t just see what he is going to do; he knows the toll it will take on you. 

And he loves you deeply. Perfectly. Permanently. 

You matter to him. And you matter to me. 

Even though things in your life are scary or uncertain or up in the air right now, I pray that you know you can rest. You can rest because you are not alone. You can rest because of who Jesus is and what he has done. You can rest because nothing you do can make him love you more or less and because no matter how hard life gets, nothing that happens to you can destroy you. You are free because he is the resurrection and the life. Not someday. Today. Right now. 

Life in Jesus’ kingdom is life and more life. There is peace in that promise. 

You and I can now live for real. 

No more pretending. 

No more posturing. 

Real life. Life to the full. Milk and honey. 

Response 

Take a few moments in quiet. Getaway somewhere if you can and listen to the voice in your headset–Jesus. The one who is not far and has experienced everything you are walking through today. 

Prayer 

Lord, thank you that you are near and present. Thank you that you don’t just have what I need; you are what I need.

Scripture: John 14:6

On Shuttles and Roads 

As I thought about the implications of these words, I immediately thought about the word way. I grabbed a Bible dictionary, and my suspicions were confirmed. The word for way in Greek is hodos. It appears 101 times in the Bible. And though it can mean way, it can also be translated means of access, approach, entrance, or road. 

Eugene Peterson captured this perfectly when he rendered John 14:6 in The Message: “Jesus said, ‘I am the Road, also the Truth, also the Life. No one gets to the Father apart from me.’” 

The only means by which you can soar through the heavens is by traveling down a two-thousand-year-old road. This is the exploration that will lead to true transformation. 

The context for this stunning, all-important announcement from Jesus is even more powerful when you understand that it came in response to something we often look down on. Doubt. You probably aren’t proud of your doubts, and you aren’t likely to think highly of yourself when you find them creeping in. But doubting is not only normal as a human; it is to be expected. And if it hadn’t been for doubt, we never would have been given this vital piece of information where Jesus clarified, in no uncertain terms, that he is not just a way to get to heaven but the only one. Information that is incredibly important to know. 

We have Thomas to thank. Yes, Thomas, the disciple who has gone down in history as the doubter. I’ll have you know that Thomas’s superpower wasn’t that he had doubts (as I said, that’s all of us) but that he was honest about them. All the disciples were doubters; they just did a good job of pretending they weren’t. 

Thomas was upfront and open about what he didn’t know. As a result, he was given answers he wouldn’t have otherwise heard. That is what happened in John 14. Jesus was giving a speech about how after his death on the cross and resurrection, he would leave them and go to heaven. They began to freak out, wearing it all over their faces. Jesus responded with a pep talk: 

“Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also.” (John 14:1–4) 

If you are a Christian, this world is not your home. You live here and are meant to view yourself as in the world but not of it. You are a resident alien. Max Lucado said, “The greatest calamity is not to feel far from home when you are, but to feel right at home when you are not.” 

Jesus was assuring them it was going to be okay. Then he followed up with a little more information that assumed they were tracking with him because he also wanted to be sure they were being honest with themselves: “And where I go you know, and the way you know” (v. 4). 

As he said this, you can almost imagine eleven of his disciples nodding their heads as if to say, “Yes, yes we do. We do know exactly where you are going.” Like the penguins of Madagascar. 

Thomas wouldn’t have it. He couldn’t believe the disciples were just going along with all this like the universe wasn’t about to come to an end. He butted in and let Jesus have it straight: “Thomas said to Him, ‘Lord, we do not know where You are going, and how can we know the way?’” (v. 5). 

I picture Jesus feigning surprise and turning to the other eleven as if to say, Is he right? 

In my mind, they act surprised by the question and, for a split second, seem like they are either going to pretend like it’s not true or feign outrage at Thomas for outing them in their phony know-it-all attitudes. In the end, it seems they shrugged and owned up to the fact that he was right and accepted the truth of their ignorance. 

Without Thomas’s honest, doubt-fueled interruption, the world might never have received Jesus’ to-the-point, blunt, and helpful clarification. He used plain words: You do know the way. It is me. I am the way. I am the road. And I am the only one. Translation: There is no getting to God except through me. 

In our day, such stark positioning is thought to be intolerant. It causes our “everyone gets a trophy” cultural hairs to stand up on the backs of our necks if someone suggests that a sincere person could be sincerely wrong. We want everyone to get to be right. Except that Jesus is saying that the only way to get right with God is to go through him. There is just one way to heaven because heaven only sent one Son. That one is Jesus, and two thousand years ago, he walked the dusty roads of the Roman Empire so that today you could launch into the freedom of being fully alive through his Spirit. And when you die and leave this world, you have his footsteps to walk in, many mansions prepared for you to dwell in, and ultimately a newly created heaven and earth for you to live in. 

On that final, awesome day, there will be many questions to ask each other—when we arrived, how we died, what happened to us during our time on earth. But you won’t need to ask anyone how they came to be in heaven. Every single one of us will have this in common: we will all have gotten there through Jesus—the only road. 

Response 

Ask God to shape your life through the dusty, two-thousand-year-old—but still vibrant and relevant—words of Christ. As you think about what lies in front of you today, what is one simple thing you can do to take up your cross and follow him? 

Prayer 

Lord, open my eyes to see the areas I have wandered to a different path, and bring me back on track to the one road, the only road that leads to you.

Scripture: John 15:5

NASA Meets Napa 

The very first spacewalks took place during the Gemini missions. On June 3, 1965, Ed White became the first American to walk in space when he exited his Gemini 4 capsule connected to a twenty-five-foot long, gold-tape-wrapped umbilical cord that fed him oxygen. He flew freely, moved around with the use of a zip gun, and took pictures. He was so ecstatic that he had to be told multiple times to come back inside when the scheduled EVA was over. He did so well on that mission that as a reward, he was assigned to the crew of Apollo 1, where he perished. 

Walking might be the most dangerous thing you can do in space, but in your soul, not walking is the most dangerous thing. Jesus tells us in John 15:5 that he will abide in us, and we must abide in Him. When we stray from Him, when we don’t walk with Him, we are powerless and can accomplish nothing. 

There are many places Jennie and I love traveling to, but I don’t know of any more relaxing place than Napa, California. It is by far the most chill. Something about an agrarian culture is instantly soothing. Being in a place like New York City is stimulating; you feel the energy, power, and intensity the moment you hit Broadway, the stem of the Big Apple. Napa has the exact opposite impact on me. I found my blood pressure would drop the moment we’d land at Charles M. Schulz Sonoma County Airport and walk past the statue of Snoopy and Charlie Brown. 

Over the years, we have toured several vineyards. Mile after mile and row after row of perfectly planted, purposeful grapevines growing their sweet fruit would call to me to relax my shoulders and breathe deeply. On each of our visits, Jennie and I have felt ourselves settle into a deep rest—full of the joy in Christ, with each other, and through the beauty of our surroundings. 

I have often thought of John 15 as we’ve soaked it all in. The grapes are only growing because the branches are connected to the vines. If you broke off any one of them, the life-giving sap would immediately stop flowing, and the branch would stop producing. It also is not lost on me that the vines growing up from the ground and following the trellis form a cross. 

It is the same for you and me. We can only produce fruit as we walk with Jesus, allowing his life to flow through us. Paul describes it in Acts 17:28: “In Him we live and move and have our being” (NKJV). The goal is to abide. To constantly remain in Jesus and Jesus in us. To allow his strength to flow through us step by step. This constant connection of prayer and worship, meditation, and conversation gives us the power to avoid the dangers inherent in this life. 

Just as in a spacewalk, there are hazards that can threaten your walk with Jesus—things that can trip you, snag you, and stop you. 

With urgency and seriousness, you and I need to be on guard against anything that could compromise the purity of our connection to Jesus the Vine. Like an astronaut with a life-sustaining tether, we must never become complacent in our connection to the Holy Spirit. Or, as in space, the result could be disastrous. Hebrews 2:1 reminds us, “We must give the more earnest heed to the things we have heard, lest we drift away” (NKJV). He is the tether; we are the astronaut. If we are disconnected from him, we will drift off into the blackness of space. 

If you listen to God as you walk with him, he will help you know what relationships, distractions, and preoccupations are holding you back from the fruit you are meant to grow. 

I have found that nothing is as good for my soul as taking a walk with God. Literally. And without my phone. When my legs start walking, my thoughts start moving. I bring a piece of paper and a pen with me and take off. It saved my life when my daughter went to heaven, and still, to this day, it’s one of the best ways I can keep my soul healthy. I have shed more tears, prayed more prayers, had more great ideas, and found more clarity in frustration while walking than at any other time. I highly recommend it. 

If you need something new in your walk with God, maybe just add a literal walk. In Genesis, Adam and Eve would walk with God in the cool of the day (3:8). 

God still wants to walk with you today. 

Response 

What are you facing today that holds you back in your relationship with the Lord? Make a list of the things you need to discuss with God, and then take a walk with him. 

Prayer 

Lord, thank you for your patience and love for me, even in those times when I fail you.

Thank you for coming on the journey! I pray you are leaving stronger and closer to Jesus than you came.