TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS: The Furnace That Forms the Faithful


Believers experience seasons in life when the heat rises. The pressure tightens during these times. The path ahead seems to glow with the unmistakable shimmer of a furnace door opening. Scripture never pretends otherwise. Jesus Himself told His disciples, “In this world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Tribulation is not a sign that something has gone wrong. It is the evidence that something is being formed.

I. The Furnace No One Volunteers For

From Genesis to Revelation, God’s people are shaped in places no one would choose. Abraham climbs Moriah with trembling hands. Joseph is lowered into a pit and later confined in a prison. David hides in caves while carrying a king’s anointing. The apostles weather storms that threaten to swallow their boat whole. The pattern is consistent: God forms His people in fire, not in ease.

Peter reminds us that none of this should surprise us: “Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you” (1 Peter 4:12). The furnace is not an anomaly. It is a classroom. It is a forge. It is the place where faith is not merely professed but proven.

II. The Purpose of the Heat

Fire in Scripture is never random. It is always purposeful, always intentional, always directed by the hand of a God who wastes nothing.

Peter explains that trials refine faith the way fire refines gold. They burn away impurities so that what remains is genuine and precious (1 Peter 1:6–7). Malachi describes the Lord as a refiner and purifier of silver. He sits attentively over the flame until the dross is removed. The reflection of the Refiner appears in the metal (Malachi 3:2–3). Isaiah echoes the same truth when God declares, “I have refined you, but not as silver; I have tested you in the furnace of affliction” (Isaiah 48:10).

And then there is the discipline of the Lord — not the discipline of rejection, but the discipline of belonging. “For whom the Lord loves He chastens… if you are without chastening… then you are illegitimate and not sons” (Hebrews 12:6–8). The heat is not the anger of God. It is the affirmation that you are His.

III. The Baptism Few Prepare For

John the Baptist announced two baptisms: one of the Spirit and one of fire. “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Matthew 3:11). The church has always celebrated the first. We sing about the Spirit’s refreshing, His filling, His power. But the baptism of fire is real. It is necessary. It is very much a part of the Christian life.

The Spirit empowers, but the fire purifies. The Spirit fills, but the fire transforms. The Spirit equips, but the fire removes what can’t remain.

Isaiah saw the coal touch his lips before he could speak for God (Isaiah 6:6–7). Jeremiah felt the Word burn within him like fire shut up in his bones (Jeremiah 20:9). The disciples saw tongues of fire rest upon them before they stepped into their calling (Acts 2:3–4). Fire precedes function. Purity precedes power.

IV. The God Who Steps Into the Flames

The enemy loves to whisper that the fire is proof of abandonment. Yet Scripture reveals the opposite. The furnace is the place where God’s presence becomes unmistakable.

Nebuchadnezzar threw Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego into the flames. He saw a fourth Man walking with them. This Man looked like “the Son of God” (Daniel 3:24–25). The fire did not consume them; it consumed their ropes. The flames did not destroy them; they revealed the One who stood beside them.

David testified to this reality long before Babylon’s furnace. He said, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you… when you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, nor shall the flame scorch you” (Isaiah 43:2). God does not meet His people after the fire. He meets them in it.

V. The Witness of the Watching World

The world is always watching how the people of God walk through adversity. Nebuchadnezzar did not glorify God when the Hebrews refused to bow. He glorified God when they walked out of the furnace without the smell of smoke (Daniel 3:27–28).

Paul and Silas sang hymns in a prison cell, and the prisoners listened to them (Acts 16:25). Their endurance became the catalyst for a jailer’s salvation. Peter instructs believers to be prepared to give an answer for the hope within them. This hope is most visible when circumstances should have extinguished it (1 Peter 3:15).

Your trial is never just about you. It becomes a testimony for those who have no language for faith until they see it survive the fire.

VI. The Transformation on the Other Side

When God brings His people out of a furnace, they emerge with something they did not possess before. Job, after walking through unimaginable suffering, declared, “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You” (Job 42:5). The fire clarifies vision. It deepens understanding. It strips away illusions.

James tells us that trials produce patience, and patience produces maturity, leaving the believer “perfect and complete, lacking nothing” (James 1:2–4). Paul adds that tribulation produces perseverance, character, and hope — a hope that does not disappoint (Romans 5:3–5).

The furnace graduates the faithful. It does not leave them where it found them.

VII. The Seal: What the Fire Cannot Touch

The flames may touch your circumstances, but they cannot touch your calling. They may shake your emotions, but they cannot shake your election. They may burn away what is temporary, but they cannot scorch what is eternal.

Paul writes with unshakable certainty: “We are hard‑pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Corinthians 4:8–9). The fire forms the faithful, but it never destroys the chosen.

And Peter closes the loop by reminding us that after we have suffered “a little while,” the God of all grace will “perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle” us (1 Peter 5:10). The furnace is not the end. It is the formation.

PLAYOFF FAITH — RUN TO WIN


1 Corinthians 9:24-26


Imagine a sharp, high-definition shot from a night playoff game. Stadium lights cut through the cold air. Breath is visible from the linemen at the line of scrimmage. Grass is torn up under cleats. A roaring crowd is pressed in on all sides. On the field, helmets collide, jerseys stretch, and every yard is fought for. In the stands, thousands of hands are raised. Voices are lifted. Hearts are fully engaged. Yet only twenty-two people are actually in the game.

That’s the picture Paul presses into when he writes:“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.”1 Corinthians 9:24

Every athlete starts the season with the same uniform. They have the same schedule. Everyone faces the same long list of practices and meetings. Film sessions are also part of the routine. In the same way, many believers step into the life of faith. They put on the “uniform.” They attend services. They lift their hands in worship. They learn the language of the kingdom. But Paul’s words cut through a dangerous assumption: simply being on the team does not guarantee the trophy. Not everyone who runs wins. Not everyone who shows up finishes with a crown.

There is a subtle mindset that creeps into the church. It is much like the attitude of some fans in the stands. They think, “I’m here, I’m cheering, I’m emotionally invested — so I’m part of the action.” The stadium needs spectators, but the scoreboard only tracks what happens on the field. In the same way, Christianity was never meant to be a spectator sport. It is not just about watching, reacting, and commenting from a distance. It is a participation calling — a summons onto the field, into the contact, into the cost.

Paul won’t let us hide in the bleachers. He pulls us down to field level and says, in essence: Look around. Everyone is running. Everyone is moving. Everyone appears busy. But only those who run with intention, discipline, and focus actually obtain the prize. That is the difference between regular-season faith and what we call Playoff Faith.

Regular-season faith is content to be present. Playoff Faith is determined to prevail.

Paul continues:“Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable.”— 1 Corinthians 9:25

Players on the field will push their bodies to the edge of exhaustion. They will study film deep into the night. They will live with relentless focus. All of this effort is for a trophy that will gather dust and a ring that will one day be buried. They do all of that for a glory that fades as soon as the next season starts. Meanwhile, believers are called to train for a crown that will never tarnish. It will never crack, never be outdated, and never be replaced.

Yet if we are honest, many of us have given more discipline to our hobbies, our careers, our favorite teams, and our entertainment than we have to the race of faith.

Paul refuses to preach from a safe distance. He does not see himself as a commentator in the booth, narrating the game while others take the hits. Listen to his language:“So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”— 1 Corinthians 9:26–27

This is not fear talking; it is focus. This man understands that calling is not the same as finishing. He knows gifting is not the same as winning. He knows that the uniform gives you access, but discipline brings advancement. He refuses to assume that being on the roster of preachers automatically places him on the podium of finishers.

This is where Playoff Faith is born. It doesn’t emerge in the spotlight. It grows in the quiet, unseen choices that separate contenders from the crowd. The ones who advance in the kingdom are not always the most talented. They are not always the most visible or the most loudly cheered. They are the ones who refuse to coast. The ones who refuse to confuse attendance with endurance. The ones who refuse to settle for a spiritual participation trophy when God has placed a real crown within reach.

Playoff Faith is the faith that steps out of the stands and onto the field. It’s the believer who decides, I will not only sing about surrender; I will actually surrender. I will not only clap for obedience; I will actually obey. I will not only cheer for others who run; I will run my own race to win. Christianity is not something we watch; it’s something we walk. It is not something we consume; it’s something we carry.

Playoff Faith wakes with purpose. It trains when no one is watching. It guards the heart when compromise whispers, “Just ease up. You’re doing more than most.” It keeps running when the season gets long and the hits get heavy. It remembers there is a finish line ahead. There is a real reward beyond it. It takes Paul’s words seriously: not everyone who enters the race wins the crown. Everyone who runs to obtain it has a real chance to finish with that crown in hand.

This is the invitation God puts before us. It is not to run casually. It is not to drift. It is not to live as if the outcome is automatic. The invitation is to run with fierce determination, to run with focused determination. That includes seeking the pleasure of God. It involves experiencing the joy of obedience. It testifies to a life that did more than watch from the stands.

You might feel small as a single player in a massive stadium. However, heaven is not judging you based on your seat. It is watching your race.

Playoff Faith does not settle for being on the team. Playoff Faith refuses the comfort of the bleachers. Playoff Faith runs, and trains, and presses, and finishes —to win.

🏈 BENEDICTION — FOR THOSE WHO RUN TO WIN

May the Lord strengthen your stride, discipline your heart, and focus your eyes on the imperishable crown.

May you refuse the comfort of the bleachers, the drift of casual faith, and the illusion that presence equals victory.
May you run with purpose, train with fire, and finish with joy.
And when the hits come, when the season stretches, when the crowd thins —may you remember that heaven does not reward the loudest cheer, but the deepest endurance.
You were not made to spectate. You were called to participate. You were chosen to run.
So run to win.
In Jesus’ name —
Amen.

Trust in a Digital Age


When Knowledge Increases but Wisdom Decreases

Daniel 12:4 — “But you, Daniel, shut up the words and seal the book, until the time of the end. Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall increase.” (ESV)

Daniel’s prophecy describes a world marked by constant movement and an unprecedented surge in knowledge. That vision has matured in our generation. We live in a time when information expands at a staggering pace. Data flows continuously. The accumulated knowledge of humanity is accessible within seconds. Yet for all this abundance, wisdom has not increased alongside it. Instead, we have become a people who gather information endlessly while struggling to arrive at truth.

Paul captured this condition with piercing clarity when he wrote that there would be those who are “always learning and never able to arrive at a knowledge of the truth” (2 Timothy 3:7, ESV). It is entirely possible to be surrounded by information and yet remain untouched by revelation. Knowledge alone cannot steady the soul, and information alone cannot anchor a life. Truth is not discovered through volume but through encounter, and encounter requires a heart that is willing to listen.

The Dulling of Spiritual Senses

Hebrews 5:14 — “But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil.” (ESV)

The writer of Hebrews explains why so many lose their way in an age of endless information. Discernment is not an automatic byproduct of exposure to knowledge. It is the fruit of consistent obedience, intentional listening, and a life shaped by the presence of God. When people stop exercising their spiritual senses, those senses weaken. When they no longer practice discernment, they lose the ability to recognize what is good and what is evil. They also lose the ability to see what is wise and what is foolish. Furthermore, they struggle to discern what is true and what is merely appealing.

Technology accelerates this dullness when it becomes a substitute for seeking God. It offers answers without intimacy, direction without relationship, and connection without covenant. It promises clarity but delivers only noise. It gives the illusion of maturity without the substance of it. In a world where everything is immediate, discernment becomes inconvenient, and the slow work of spiritual formation feels unnecessary. Yet without it, the soul becomes vulnerable to every voice that speaks loudly and every system that promises ease.

The Fragile Power of Man‑Made Chariots

Psalm 20:7 — “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.” (ESV)

David lived in a world where nations placed their confidence in chariots and horses. These were the most advanced military technologies of their time. These machines were swift, powerful, and rapidly deployed. They gave kings confidence and armies a sense of invincibility. Yet David refused to place his trust in them. He understood that chariots, for all their strength, were fragile. A wheel break. A horse stumble. A battlefield can shift. In a single moment, a nation’s pride collapse. Their power was real, but it was not dependable. Their strength was visible, but it was not faithful.

The same is true of the “chariots” of our age. Our devices are fast, our networks powerful, and our systems astonishing in their reach. Yet they can fail without warning. A server can crash. A platform can disappear. A password can be compromised. A power grid can falter. A corporation can change direction. An algorithm can turn against the very people it once served. Behind every digital system stands an indifferent source of power. These structures do not know you. They do not love you. They do not care for your soul. They offer convenience but not covenant, access but not affection, information but not truth.

God, nonetheless, is steady, faithful, and unchanging. He does not fail, shut down, or withdraw access. He does not operate from indifference. He is invested in your good. He guards, guides, and keeps covenant. He watches over your soul and works all things for your good. He remains faithful when every human system collapses. Technology can serve you, but only God can save you. Tools can carry you quickly, but only God can carry you safely.

The Call Back to Discernment

Daniel warned that knowledge would increase. Paul warned that learning would not guarantee truth. Hebrews warns that discernment must be trained. Together these passages form a prophetic map for our moment. We live in a world overflowing with information. There is a generation starving for truth. The church is called to sharpen its senses again. This is not a call to reject technology but to refuse idolatry. It is a call to use tools without trusting them. It is a call to learn without losing truth. It is also a call to grow in knowledge without abandoning wisdom.

A Prayer for the Digital Age

Lord, train my senses again. Sharpen my discernment. Guard me from the illusion that more information means more truth. Teach me to use the tools of this age without bowing to them. Let my trust rest not in the works of human hands but in Your voice, Your wisdom, and Your presence. Make me mature in discernment, steady in truth, and faithful in a world that has forgotten how to listen.

This has been a View From the Nest. And that is the way I see it. What say you?

Turning the Page


Well, 2025 has ended and 2026 has begun. Christmas is behind us. New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day are already fading in the rearview. And as always, the news cycle is busy doing its annual review. It replays what happened. It rehearses what was. It offers no vision for what’s ahead.

But the whole spirit of this season is backward‑looking.
Remembering what was instead of preparing for what is coming.

Yet Scripture calls us to a different posture:

  • “Do not remember the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing.” (Isaiah 43:18–19)
  • “His mercies are new every morning.” (Lamentations 3:22–23)
  • “One thing I do: forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead.” (Philippians 3:13)

If we keep doing the same things in the same way every year, we will never experience the new opportunities. God is preparing these new opportunities for us.
Stop looking back.
Stop rehearsing the past.
Stop letting tradition dictate your expectation.

Every day you open the door, the sky is different.
The clouds are different.
The air is different.
Creation itself refuses to repeat yesterday — yet we cling to routines, patterns, and cycles that never change.

We ride the same merry‑go‑round:
Christmas, Easter, Christmas, Easter…
as if the kingdom of God is a calendar instead of a calling.

But Jesus is not returning as a baby in a manger.
He is coming as a King, riding on a white horse, with the armies of heaven behind Him:

  • “Behold, a white horse. He who sat on him was called Faithful and True… and the armies in heaven followed Him.” (Revelation 19:11–14)

That is the new we should be preparing for.

So the question stands:
Are we preparing for what is coming, or just recycling what has been?

Why Judah? Why Praise?


1. Judah’s name was prophetic from birth

When Leah gave birth to her fourth son, she said:

“This time I will praise the LORD.”
Genesis 29:35

The Hebrew word she used was “yadah” — to lift hands, to confess, to declare praise.

So the child was named Judah (Yehudah) — literally “Praise.”

Judah wasn’t named after a tribe.
The tribe was named after praise.

This matters because in Scripture, names reveal assignment.

Judah’s assignment was praise.


2. Judah was chosen to go first in battle

God commanded:

“Judah shall go up first.”
Judges 1:2

Not because they were the strongest.
Not because they were the largest.
Not because they were the most skilled.

But because praise is the spiritual breaker.

Praise:

  • disarms fear
  • shifts atmosphere
  • invites divine strategy
  • confuses the enemy
  • opens the way for God to move

Judah went first because praise breaks open what human strength cannot.


3. Judah carried the scepter — the authority

Jacob prophesied:

“The scepter shall not depart from Judah…”
Genesis 49:10

Meaning:

  • authority flows through praise
  • kingship flows through praise
  • Messiah Himself would come through praise

Jesus is the Lion of the tribe of Judah — the Lion of Praise.

This is why worship is not warm‑up.
It is governmental.
It is warfare.
It is kingdom alignment.


4. Judah camped on the EAST side of the tabernacle

East = the place of rising, the place of first light, the place of new beginnings.

Judah was positioned:

  • at the entrance
  • at the front
  • at the place where the glory would rise

Praise always stands at the gate of what God is about to do.


5. Judah led the procession when the ark moved

Whenever the presence moved, praise moved first.

This is why worship is not optional.
It is protocol.
It is order.
It is alignment with heaven’s pattern.


Why Judah Still Goes First?

There’s a truth I’ve learned over 30 years of worship ministry:
what happens before a single note is played determines everything that happens after.

Worship cannot be improvised.
Worship must be carried.

Why Judah — Not Levi — Goes First

Most believers assume Levi (the priestly tribe) should lead the way. After all, Levi handled the sacrifices, the tabernacle, the holy things. But God didn’t say, “Let Levi go first.” He said:

“Judah shall go up first.”
Judges 1:2

Why?

Because Levi represents ministry to God.
Judah represents movement with God.

Levi tended the altar.
Judah opened the way.

Levi maintained the sanctuary.
Judah broke the ground.

Levi handled the rituals.
Judah carried the roar.

Levi served inside the camp.
Judah led outside the camp.

Levi ministered in order.
Judah ministered in authority.

This is why the Messiah did not come as:

  • the Lamb of Levi
  • the Priest of Levi
  • the Teacher of Levi

He came as:

“The Lion of the tribe of Judah.”
Revelation 5:5

Because the Lion leads.
The Lion breaks.
The Lion goes first.

Why This Matters for Worship Today

Most churches have reversed the order.

They treat worship like:

  • warm‑up
  • emotional prep
  • filler
  • a musical appetizer before the sermon

But in Scripture, worship is warfare.

Judah wasn’t chosen because they could sing.
Judah was chosen because they could shift the battle.

When Judah went first:

  • enemies were confused
  • atmospheres changed
  • fear broke
  • God’s presence manifested
  • victory was secured before the fight began

A church service is not a call of duty — it is a battleground.

People walk in carrying:

  • bondage
  • depression
  • spiritual heaviness
  • confusion
  • generational patterns
  • demonic oppression
  • fear
  • unbelief

And the first line of spiritual engagement is not the sermon —
it is Judah.

If Judah is weak, unprepared, distracted, or spiritually empty, the entire service suffers.

If Judah is strong, aligned, prayed up, and surrendered, the entire service shifts.

Those called to lead worship must prepare for battle, not just fulfill an obligation.

A worship leader who doesn’t prepare spiritually is like a soldier showing up without armor.

This year start off by making room for the Lion of the Tribe of Judah. Let praise be forever on your lips.

SELAH