Tag Christian Encouragement

GOD’S SAVINGS TIME: REDEEMING THE TIME WE HAVE

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

The Ritual That Changes Nothing

Twice a year we perform the same ritual. We move the hands of our clocks forward and backward as if time itself were clay in our grasp. We complain about losing an hour or gaining one. We often discuss “saving time,” although no one has ever saved a single second. The sun still rises and sets on the schedule God ordained in Genesis. The day remains twenty‑four hours long, no matter how many times we adjust the numbers glowing on our screens.

Daylight Savings Time is a perfect picture of human illusion. It feels important, but it accomplishes nothing of eternal value. It shifts the clock, but it does not shift the heart. It rearranges the hours, but it does not redeem them. It is a semi-annual ritual. It signifies our desire to feel in control of something we cannot command.

Scripture, however, calls us to something far weightier. We are not commanded to save time. We are commanded to redeem it.

Redeeming Time, Not Rearranging It

Paul writes, “Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.” (Ephesians 5:16). The word redeem means to buy back, to seize, to rescue from loss. It is the language of urgency, stewardship, and eternal purpose. We cannot redeem the hours on a clock, but we can redeem the opportunities God places before us. We can redeem conversations, relationships, moments of influence, and windows of grace.

Paul reinforces this in Colossians 4:5: “Walk in wisdom toward them that are without, redeeming the time.” This is not about managing schedules. It is about reaching souls. It is about recognizing that every moment carries eternal weight.

Daylight Savings Time pretends to give us more daylight. God’s Savings Time calls us to walk in the light while it is still available.

The Call to Watchfulness

Daylight Savings Time is a harmless ritual, but spiritually it mirrors a far more dangerous pattern. Twice a year we adjust our clocks without adjusting our lives. We move the hands forward or backward. We feel as though we have accomplished something meaningful. Yet, nothing in eternity has changed. The sun rises and sets exactly as God ordained. The hours remain the same. Only our perception shifts.

In the same way, many believers have been lulled into a false sense of security. This is due to soothing messages and comfortable routines. A Christianity that promises rest without responsibility can also be misleading. We have been told to relax and settle in. We are encouraged to enjoy the blessings of God as if the Kingdom were a recliner. We treat discipleship as though it were a leisure activity. But Scripture paints a very different picture. The Kingdom of God is not a lounge chair; it is a field. It is not a place for slumber; it is a place for labor. It is not a retreat from responsibility; it is a call to action.

Paul’s warning becomes clearer in this light: “Knowing the time, that now it is high time to awake out of sleep.” (Romans 13:11).. He is not speaking to the world; he is speaking to the Church. He is speaking to those who have drifted into spiritual Standard Time. They have become comfortable, predictable, and unhurried. They are unaware of the lateness of the hour. He follows with a phrase that cuts through every illusion of delay: “The night is far spent, the day is at hand.” (Romans 13:12).

This is not a poetic flourish. It is a diagnosis. The night is not approaching; it is already advanced. The day is not distant; it is pressing in. The time is late, and the work is urgent. The fields are not waiting for us to feel ready; they are already white for harvest. Jesus said, “Lift up your eyes… the fields are white already to harvest.” (John 4:35). Harvest time is not a season for sleep. Proverbs warn, “He that sleepeth in harvest is a son that causeth shame.” (Proverbs 10:5).

The Church has been comforted by complacency, but the Kingdom is calling us into wakefulness. We are not here to adjust clocks; we are here to redeem time. We are not here to preserve our comfort; we are here to rescue the lost. We are not here to drift through days; we are here to work while it is still day, because Jesus Himself declared, “Night is coming, when no one can work.” (John 9:4).

This is the heart of God’s Savings Time. It is not about gaining an hour of sunlight. It is about seizing the hour of salvation. It is about recognizing that every moment carries eternal weight. It is about refusing to sleep through the harvest while souls hang in the balance. It is about waking up, rising up, and stepping into the fields before the final night falls.

The Fields Are White, Not Waiting

Jesus told His disciples, “Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest.” (John 4:35). The harvest is not someday. The harvest is not when we feel ready. The harvest is not when the Church is comfortable. The harvest is now.

Proverbs adds its own warning: “He that sleepeth in harvest is a son that causeth shame.” (Proverbs 10:5). We are not called to sleep in harvest. We are called to labor in it.

Daylight Savings Time may shift the clock, but it does not shift the urgency of the harvest. Souls are perishing. Hearts are hardening. The night is approaching. The Church can’t afford to drift into spiritual Standard Time. Routine, complacency, and delay must be avoided. God is calling us into His Savings Time.

Numbering Our Days

Moses prayed, “Teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12). Numbering our days is not about counting them. It is about valuing them. It means understanding that every day is a gift. Each moment involves stewardship. Every opportunity is a divine appointment.

We cannot save time. But we can redeem it. We can invest it. We can sow it into eternity.

Daylight Savings Time is a ritual that changes nothing. God’s Savings Time is a calling that changes everything.

The Question That Matters

The question is not whether we have adjusted our clocks. The question is whether we have adjusted our lives.

Are we redeeming the time? Are we awake? Are we working while it is still day? Are we living in God’s Savings Time?

Because the night is coming. The trumpet will sound. And the work will be finished.

From Chains of Captivity to Prayers for Victory

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

A Letter from St. Patrick to a Nation in Need

To the people of this land, in a time of confusion and fear, from Patrick, a servant of Christ Jesus.

I was not born a saint. I was not born a hero. I was a boy who ignored the living God until chains taught me to pray. They took me from my home. They dragged me across the sea. They sold me into slavery in a land whose language I did not know. I fed animals in the cold. I slept on the ground. I feared the night. But in the fields of my captivity, the Lord had mercy on me. He opened my blind eyes. He broke my proud heart. He became my only hope.

When He delivered me, I believed the story was finished. But God does not free a man only for himself. He frees him for others. In a dream I heard the voices of the Irish calling out, “Come walk among us once more.” And the Spirit of God burned within me. The land that broke me became the land I was sent to heal.

I returned with no army, no wealth, no power—only the gospel of Jesus Christ. I walked into the halls of kings and the camps of druids. I faced curses, threats, and death. But Christ was my shield. Christ was my courage. Christ was my victory. I did not change Ireland. God did. I was only the vessel He forged in chains.

I look upon your nation now. It is anxious, divided, and wandering. It is hungry for truth. I tell you what I learned in my captivity. When a people forget God, they lose themselves. But when a people turn to Him, even the darkest land becomes a place of light.

You do not need luck. You do not need legends. You do not need the trappings of a holiday that has forgotten its own story. You need the living Christ. The same Christ met me in the fields of my slavery. He will also meet you in the wilderness of your time. The same Christ who broke my chains can break yours. The same Christ who sent me back to the land of my captors can send you. He can guide you into the broken places of your own nation.

In my day, I prayed a prayer of armor—a cry for God’s presence to surround me in a land filled with fear and darkness:

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me…

This was not poetry. It was survival. It was surrender. It was the only way to stand in a world at war with truth.

And long after my bones returned to the earth, another Irish believer prayed a similar cry—a prayer you now sing as a hymn:

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart…Thou my best thought, by day or by night…

BE THOU MY VISION A FITTING SONG FOR A TIME SUCH AS THIS

BE THOU MY VISION a Temple Music Production, all rights reserved

If you want to see revival during your lifetime, pray this just as I did: “Lord, be my vision.” Be my wisdom. Be my strength. Be my shield. Be my everything.”

From chains of captivity to prayers for victory—this is my testimony. Not of who I am, but of who God is.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Patrick, a slave of Christ, and a witness to His mercy.

Wednesday Worship: Jesus Paid It All

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

Opening Reflection

Hebrews 10 invites us to stand before the cross with clear eyes and a quieted heart. It reminds us that the law was never the destination. It was only the shadow of a greater reality yet to be revealed. The sacrifices of the Old Testament expose sin, but they never erase it. They bring people near, but they can not make them clean.

Christ, nevertheless, offered one sacrifice for sins for all time—and then He sat down. His work was finished. His offering was done. His blood accomplished what the law never could. It cleansed the conscience. It perfected those who draw near.

This is the truth that the beloved hymn Jesus Paid It All proclaims with such simplicity and power. Every believer confesses this. They have discovered that their hope does not rest in their own efforts. Instead, it rests in the finished work of Christ.

Scripture Anchor: Hebrews 10:12–14 (ESV)

“But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God… For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.”

Devotional

Hebrews 10 opens with a sobering reminder: the law was never meant to be the final answer. It was a shadow—a silhouette cast by something greater that had not yet appeared. The sacrifices of the Old Testament exposed sin, but they never erased it. They brought people near, but did not make them clean.

If the blood of bulls and goats had truly cleansed the conscience, the offerings would have stopped. But they didn’t. Year after year, the priests stood—always standing, always sacrificing—because the work was never finished. The very repetition of the sacrifices was proof of their insufficiency.

Hebrews 10:12 interrupts with the gospel in a single sentence. Christ offered one sacrifice for sins for all time. Then He sat down. The priests stood because their work was never done. Christ sat down because His work was finished.

This is the heart of the chapter: we do nothing because Jesus has done everything.

His sacrifice is not one more offering in a long line of attempts. It is the final offering. It is the perfect offering. It is the once-for-all offering. It actually cleanses the conscience and perfects those who draw near. The blood of Christ does what the law could never do—it makes us clean, whole, forgiven, and welcomed.

And this is where the hymn Jesus Paid It All becomes more than a song. It becomes a confession of faith that rises straight out of Hebrews 10. The hymn writer understood what the writer of Hebrews proclaimed. Our efforts and our striving cannot make us presentable before God. Our spiritual disciplines and attempts to “be better” are insufficient. None of these can make us presentable before God. They are good, but they are not atoning. They are helpful, but they are not saving.

We do not approach God because we have prayed enough. We do not approach God because we have behaved well enough. We do not approach God because we have avoided sin long enough. We approach God because Jesus paid it all.

And that changes everything.

Have you ever hesitated to come to God because you felt unworthy? Have you ever tried to “clean yourself up” before praying again? Have you ever believed the lie that you need a streak of good days before God will welcome you?

Hebrews 10 dismantles that lie. The hymn reinforces it. The cross settles it.

Your confidence before God is not rooted in your performance—it is rooted in Christ’s finished work. His sacrifice is not fragile. His blood is not temporary. His cleansing is not conditional. You are invited to draw near, not because you are worthy, but because He is.

So take a moment and ask yourself: Where am I still trying to offer God my own sacrifices?

  • My discipline
  • My consistency
  • My ministry
  • My moral effort
  • My attempts to “make up” for my failures

All of these things matter—but none of them save.

You are a son. You are a daughter. Not by your offerings, but by His.

And that is why generations have sung, and will continue to sing, that simple, liberating truth: Jesus paid it all. Not some. Not most. Not the part you can’t fix. All.

Hymn: Jesus Paid It All

Words: Elvina M. Hall (1865)
Music: John T. Grape (1868)

Verse 1
I hear the Savior say,
Thy strength indeed is small;
Child of weakness, watch and pray,
Find in Me thine all in all.

Refrain
Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.

Verse 2
Lord, now indeed I find
Thy power and Thine alone,
Can change the leper’s spots
And melt the heart of stone.

Refrain
Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.

Verse 3
For nothing good have I
Whereby Thy grace to claim;
I’ll wash my garments white
In the blood of Calv’ry’s Lamb.

Refrain
Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.

Verse 4
And when before the throne
I stand in Him complete,
“Jesus died my soul to save,”
My lips shall still repeat.

Refrain
Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.

Jesus Paid It All: take time to meditate upon this great hymn as you are reminded as to how great a love the Lord has bestowed upon us, sinners as we are.

About the Hymnwriter

Elvina M. Hall wrote the words to Jesus Paid It All. She was sitting in the choir loft of Monument Street Methodist Church in Baltimore. As she listened to the sermon, the lines began forming in her heart—a simple, profound declaration of Christ’s sufficiency. John T. Grape, the church organist, later composed the tune that carried her words into the worship of generations.

The hymn endures because its message is timeless: Christ has done what we could never do. His sacrifice is enough.

Closing Prayer

Lord Jesus, thank You for Your once-for-all sacrifice. Thank You that You have done what the law could never do. Thank You that we can draw near with confidence, not because of our worthiness, but because of Your finished work. Teach us to rest in the truth that You paid it all. Amen.

Benediction

May the God who perfected you through the sacrifice of His Son fill you with confidence. May He also fill you with peace and joy as you draw near to Him. Walk in the freedom of the cross. Know that Jesus paid it all. Nothing can be added to His finished work.

In One Ear and Out the Other: When the Word Never Reaches the Heart

Allen Frederick Leave a comment


A Funny Story With a Not‑So‑Funny Truth

Three men went deer hunting, and as they crossed a field on their way to the woods, a massive buck jumped up right in front of them. All three fired at the same moment. The buck dropped instantly, and the men hurried over—only to realize they had a problem. Who actually shot the deer?

As they stood there debating, a game warden approached to check licenses. Hearing the dilemma, he knelt down, examined the buck, and said, “One of you is a preacher, right?” Sure enough, one of them was. The warden nodded and said, “Well, the preacher’s the one who got him.” The men stared at him in disbelief. “How can you know that?” The warden shrugged. “Simple. The bullet went in one ear and out the other.”

It’s a humorous story, but beneath the laughter lies a sobering truth—one James warned the church about with prophetic clarity when he wrote, “Be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves” (James 1:22).

When Hearing Becomes Self‑Deception

Hearing is not the problem. Hearing without obeying is. A message that goes in one ear and out the other never reaches the heart, and the heart is the only place where real transformation takes place. Jesus Himself said the greatest commandment is to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30). The mind matters. The mind is essential. But the mind is not the destination. It is the doorway. The heart is the target.

The preacher in the story fired a shot that passed through the deer’s head but never touched the heart. It produced death, not life. It left a carcass, not a conversion. And that is exactly what happens when the Word of God is received only at the level of intellect. It may pass through the mind, but if it never penetrates the heart, it cannot produce obedience, repentance, or new life. It becomes information without transformation.

A Wound That Never Heals Becomes Fatal

Here is the deeper truth: a bullet that never reaches the heart can still kill you. It can wound you. It can tear flesh, rupture arteries, and leave you bleeding out. A wound is not harmless simply because it missed the center.

And the same is true of the Word when it is only received intellectually. A sermon aimed at the mind alone may not transform you, but it can still wound you. It can leave you convicted but unchanged, aware of truth but still resisting it. You can feel the sting of conviction without ever surrendering to it. And that kind of wound, left unattended, becomes spiritually fatal.

The writer of Hebrews says, “The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two‑edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12). The Word is designed to pierce. It is meant to cut deep enough to expose motives, confront sin, and bring healing through repentance. But when the Word is only admired, analyzed, or agreed with—when it is heard but not obeyed—it becomes a cut that never closes. Over time, the soul begins to hemorrhage. Not because the Word failed, but because the heart never yielded.

When the Lips Say “Amen” but the Heart Stays Distant

Jesus described this condition when He said, “This people honors Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me” (Matthew 15:8). The mind can say “Amen” while the heart remains untouched. The intellect can applaud truth while the will refuses to bow to it.

James continues this warning by saying, “For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror… and goes away and at once forgets what he was like” (James 1:23–24). The problem is not the hearing. The problem is the forgetting. The problem is the lack of response. The problem is the absence of obedience.

Truth that only grazes the mind can still leave a person spiritually dying. Truth that never reaches the heart cannot save. Truth that never produces obedience becomes a slow bleed. Eternal death does not always come from outright rebellion. Sometimes it comes from a lifetime of sermons that never penetrated deeper than the intellect.

The Word Must Be Received With Surrender, Not Just Agreement

This is why preaching must aim for the heart. This is why hearing must lead to doing. This is why the Word must be received with surrender, not merely agreement. Jesus said, “Everyone then who hears these words of Mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock” (Matthew 7:24). Hearing is the beginning. Doing is the evidence. Obedience is the fruit. Transformation is the result.

Do not let God’s Word pass through you without penetrating you. Do not let it skim the surface of your mind without sinking into the soil of your heart. Do not let it go in one ear and out the other. Slow down. Meditate. Respond. Obey. Let the Word reach the place where life is changed. Let it pierce, not to destroy, but to heal. Let it cut, not to wound, but to free. Let it strike the heart, for only there does the Word bring life. It isn’t about how much Bible you know or can quote but how much you actually put into practice.

Don’t let His Word go in one ear

and right out the other!

A Lesson Inside Goodwill

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

A Discount You Don’t Expect — And a Grace You Don’t Earn

I stopped into Goodwill as I often do. I quickly scanned for Corning Ware. It’s a treasure hunt among the shelves. It’s already a place where everything is marked down, everything affordable, everything priced for people who need a break.

The cashier asked whether I had any additional discounts. Specifically, they asked about a senior discount. I was caught off guard. A discount on top of a discount? At Goodwill?

I laughed and declined. Not because I couldn’t use the savings, but because I know the money helps people who need the opportunity. Still, the moment stayed with me. A discount on something already discounted. A kindness on top of a kindness.

And suddenly, Scripture whispered.

“Grace Upon Grace” — Not Stacked Blessings, But Steady Mercy

John wrote that “from His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” This isn’t grace like coupons or bonus points. It is grace in layers.

  • The first grace: God gives eternal life through Christ — the undeserved gift that changes everything.
  • The second grace: God continues to deal with His children patiently. He does so mercifully and with fatherly understanding. He guides them as they stumble through life.

He doesn’t throw a penalty flag every time someone missteps. He doesn’t eject His children from the game when they drift offside. He doesn’t call a foul every time they trip over their own humanity.

Scripture says:

  • He remembers that we are dust.
  • A bruised reed He will not break.
  • His mercies are new every morning.

This is grace upon grace. Not extra grace, but ongoing grace. It is the steady, patient, fatherly mercy of a God. He knows His children will stumble and still chooses to walk with them.

The Goodwill Lesson Hidden in Plain Sight

Goodwill already offers discounted prices. But then the cashier offered another discount — one that was unexpected and unrequested.

That moment became a reminder of how God deals with His people.

  • He saves — that is grace.
  • Then He continues to carry, forgive, restore, and patiently grow — that is grace upon grace.

People don’t always expect it. They don’t always think to ask for it. Sometimes they even decline it because they think they should pay their own way.

But God knows their frame. He knows their weaknesses. He knows their missteps before they make them.

And He chooses mercy anyway.

A Closing Thought

I walked out of Goodwill smiling. It was not because I saved money. It was because I was reminded of a God who gives more mercy than I realize. This happens even when I’m already living inside His grace.

Not stacked blessings. Not bonus coupons. Just a Father who refuses to give up on His children.