Tag: Romans

Romans 14:1-4 (ESV)
As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions. One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables. Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him. Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand.

Once again the Lord is hitting me right where I need it. Paul is calling out those that want to meet with a fellow believer, who is earlier in their walk of faith/sanctification, to encourage them but then using that time to argue about areas of scripture that require deep study and comprehending the arch of God’s Word about something. In a parenting context, Marianne and I call this “Parenting outside the funnel”.

Paul is encouraging us to 1) have patience and 2) to not overly ‘school’ a new believer. He then moves on to differences in conviction; that depending on one’s upbringing, church history, or exposure to biblical principals, may hold on to a looser stance on something. A good example might be the consumption of alcohol. Marianne and I made a decision almost 15 years ago that we did not want our kids growing up seeing us drink and secondly there was a lot of damage that alcohol had done on both sides of family…we just felt that is wasn’t worth it. That being said there is nothing wrong with the believer who drinks in moderation (God’s word is very clear about not drinking to drunkenness).

There are things in my life right now where it is really easy to look at “how I might handle something” versus “how I am seeing someone else handle something”. I find that I have a fleshly tendency to think critically of a person (especially if they are in a spiritual leadership capacity) who is not approaching and handling something as I would…as I would based on what I believe the Lord lays on my heart in biblical conviction. Every believer is running their own race and some at different stages than others. Sometimes the Lord uses us to further a fellow believer’s understanding of God’s word and others, He is just working on that person’s heart in His own timing.

APPLICATION

I need to keep my heart pure. The evil one would like nothing more than to tear down the internal ranks of God’s Kingdom by Christians passing judgement on each other, holding each other to inappropriate bars, or worse, building resentment and bitterness. I must keep my heart positioned (nestled) into the shins of my Savior…keeping my ear close to His mouth and leaning on His discernment, wisdom, and grace. Essentially, spending more time at the foot of the cross.

Romans 13:9-10 (ESV)
For the commandments, “You shall not commit adultery, You shall not murder, You shall not steal, You shall not covet,” and any other commandment, are summed up in this word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.

These sets of verses in Romans 13 have become really important in Biblical Counseling. What God is telling us through Paul is that, as believers, when we honor and Glorify God through our behavior towards those the Lord has placed in our sphere of influence, we are biblically adhering to what the Lord has called us to do.

In marriage counseling – our closest neighbor is our spouse so this passage becomes even more important and applicable in calling out treatment and actions that don’t fall in line with what Paul calls us to do. The other thing you will notice is that there is no set qualifiers that the neighbor is responsible for in order to earn our love toward them. This can be very hard but it is what God calls us to do. It falls right in line with Romans 12:14-21.

APPLICATION

This passage has to stay on the top of my mind, it needs to be in the forefront of my prayers asking for the Holy Spirit to convict me, and it needs to be the area I am quick to confess and repent when I find I have not followed the instruction. My flesh is inclined to cling to ways I should be treated, or ways I deserve to be spoken to, but I have been bought with a price and vengeance is the Lords. Humility and meekness are two attributes that I want to grow in.

Romans 9:6-11
But it is not as though the word of God has failed. For not all who are descended from Israel belong to Israel, and not all are children of Abraham because they are his offspring, but “Through Isaac shall your offspring be named.” This means that it is not the children of the flesh who are the children of God, but the children of the promise are counted as offspring. For this is what the promise said: “About this time next year I will return, and Sarah shall have a son.” And not only so, but also when Rebekah had conceived children by one man, our forefather Isaac, though they were not yet born and had done nothing either good or bad—in order that God’s purpose of election might continue, not because of works but because of him who calls…

When I read this passage, I’m reminded that God has never been limited by bloodlines, resumes, or human expectations. His word hasn’t failed—not then, not now. What Paul is saying confronts my instinct to measure belonging by externals. Being part of God’s family has never been about physical descent or religious pedigree. It has always been about promise. About God speaking life where there was none and calling a people to Himself simply because He willed it.

The story of Isaac and Jacob blows my mind because it exposes how upside-down grace really is. Before either child had done anything—good or bad—God chose. Not because of effort. Not because of merit. Not because one earned it more than the other. God’s purposes moved forward because He calls. That means my place in God’s family rests on His faithfulness, not my performance. I’m not here because I proved myself worthy; I’m here because God keeps His promises.

And here’s the crazy, awe-filled truth: in Christ, I’ve been swept into that promise. I’ve been adopted into God’s chosen people—not by birth, not by effort, but by grace. I belong because God said so. That truth humbles me, steadies me, and fills me with worship. My identity is rooted in God’s sovereign love, not my shifting obedience.

APPLICATION

When I’m tempted to define myself by success, failure, or comparison, I want to return to this truth: I am a child of promise. God did not choose me because I was impressive; He chose me because He is faithful. Today, I will rest in the security of being adopted by grace and let that assurance shape how I live—grateful instead of striving, humble instead of proud, confident instead of fearful. My life is not about earning God’s favor but responding to the unbelievable gift of being called His own.

But it is not as though the word of God has failed. For not all who are descended from Israel belong to Israel,  and not all are children of Abraham because they are his offspring, but “Through Isaac shall your offspring be named.”  This means that it is not the children of the flesh who are the children of God, but the children of the promise are counted as offspring.  For this is what the promise said: “About this time next year I will return, and Sarah shall have a son.”  And not only so, but also when Rebekah had conceived children by one man, our forefather Isaac,  though they were not yet born and had done nothing either good or bad—in order that God's purpose of election might continue, not because of works but because of him who calls—  she was told, “The older will serve the younger.”  As it is written, “Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated.” Romans 9:6-13

God’s purposes have always been guided by His sovereignty rather than human expectation. Paul makes it clear that God’s promise was never about biological lineage alone—“not all who are descended from Israel belong to Israel.” The stories of Isaac over Ishmael, and Jacob over Esau, expose a pattern that feels both humbling and awe-inspiring: God is the One who calls, and His call isn’t bound by human customs, birth order, or merit. He works according to His own wisdom, not our assumptions about how blessing should flow.

What stands out to me is how these examples dismantle any idea that I can earn God’s favor or position myself as more “deserving” than someone else. Jacob wasn’t chosen because he was morally superior—his story proves the opposite. God’s choice reveals His freedom to pour out mercy according to His own purposes. That truth can feel unsettling, but it also brings a deep steadiness. My belonging to God isn’t fragile, contingent on performance, or threatened by my failures. It rests on His initiative, His promise, His character. The more I sit with that, the more it pushes me toward humility and gratitude.

APPLICATION

I want to live in the quiet confidence that my place with God is secure because He established it, not because I’ve earned it. Instead of comparing myself to others or trying to justify my worth, I want to rest in His calling and trust His wisdom in how He works in the lives around me. When I’m tempted to question God’s methods or timing, I’ll choose humility—remembering that His purposes are wiser, deeper, and more faithful than anything I could construct on my own.

I am speaking the truth in Christ—I am not lying; my conscience bears me witness in the Holy Spirit—that I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh.  They are Israelites, and to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises. To them belong the patriarchs, and from their race, according to the flesh, is the Christ, who is God over all, blessed forever. Amen. Romans 9:1-5

This passage reveals a side of Paul that’s easy to overlook: the depth of his anguish for those who don’t know Christ. His words are weighty—he speaks of “great sorrow and unceasing anguish,” even saying he could wish himself “accursed” if it meant the salvation of his own people. This isn’t abstract theology; it’s a window into a heart shaped by the love of Jesus. Paul sees the extraordinary privileges God entrusted to Israel—adoption, glory, covenants, promises, the patriarchs, and ultimately Christ Himself—and yet he aches because so many have missed the very Messiah those blessings pointed to.

What challenges me most is the intensity and purity of Paul’s grief. He isn’t angry at those who rejected the gospel, nor does he distance himself from them. Instead, he carries a burden rooted in love—a burden that reflects the very heart of Christ, who wept over Jerusalem and gave Himself for those who did not recognize Him. Paul’s sorrow is not despair; it’s compassion. It’s a reminder that spiritual truth isn’t just something to understand but something that should move my heart toward others with the same longing God has.

APPLICATION

I want to ask God to soften my heart for those who don’t know Him. It’s easy to respond with frustration, indifference, or self-protection, but Paul’s example pushes me to love more deeply and pray more earnestly. I want my compassion to grow—not just in theory, but in real concern for real people. Instead of shrinking back or becoming numb, I’ll carry their names before God and look for opportunities to reflect Christ’s love to them.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?  As it is written,       
“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”
  No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:35-39

These verses confront me with a truth I often affirm with my lips but struggle to believe in the hard places of life: nothing can separate me from the love of Christ. Paul doesn’t shy away from naming the real pressures—tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, danger, even death itself. These aren’t hypothetical; they’re the very experiences that make me question God’s nearness. Yet Paul’s point is that these circumstances, as overwhelming as they feel, are powerless to break the bond Jesus Himself has secured.

What strikes me most is the fierce, triumphant tone of this passage. I’m not “barely making it” through the love of Christ—I am “more than a conqueror.” Not because I’m strong or resilient, but because His love is active, fighting for me, holding me, carrying me. The sweep of Paul’s list—height, depth, angels, rulers, things present, things to come—feels like he’s grabbing every possible threat my imagination could raise and slamming the door shut. God’s love isn’t fragile or conditional. It doesn’t waver with my emotions or crumble under the weight of suffering. It’s anchored in the finished work of Jesus, and therefore it is unbreakable.

APPLICATION

Today I want to live from security, not fear. When circumstances shake me or uncertainty presses in, I’ll remind myself that God’s love is not at risk. My feelings may rise and fall, but His grip on me does not loosen. I want to walk through the day with a quiet confidence—knowing that I am held, pursued, and fiercely loved by Christ, and nothing I face can separate me from Him.

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?  He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?  Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies.  Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Romans 8:31-34

These verses shift my focus from my fears to the staggering reality of God’s commitment to me. Paul’s question—“If God is for us, who can be against us?”—isn’t a call to ignore difficulties, but to see them in their proper scale. The God who did not spare His own Son is the same God who watches over my life with unwavering intention. When I pause long enough to consider that, it disarms the quiet anxieties that whisper I’m alone, unsupported, or at risk. God has already proven the extent of His love in the costliest way imaginable.

And then Paul goes even further: not only has Christ died and risen, He is now at the right hand of God interceding for me. The very One who knows my weaknesses, my inconsistencies, and my ongoing struggles is the One who speaks on my behalf. It means the accusations—whether from the enemy, from others, or from my own self-condemning thoughts—do not get the final word. There is a greater Advocate, and His defense is rooted in His finished work, not my fluctuating performance.

APPLICATION

Today I want to live as someone defended, not someone on trial. Instead of letting fear, guilt, or imagined threats dictate my mindset, I’ll anchor my thoughts in the truth that God is decisively for me. Christ intercedes for me right now, in this moment, and I want my confidence to flow from that reality. When I face pressure or uncertainty, I’ll remind myself: I am not alone, and I am not undefended. God Himself stands with me.

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.  For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.  And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified. Romans 8:28-30

This passage should always stop us in our tracks. It reminds me that God’s work in my life is far bigger than anything I can measure in the moment. Paul doesn’t say that everything that may befall us or this world is good (satan is loose and sin has corrupted this world), but that everything is worked for good—reshaped, repurposed, woven into something only God could accomplish. And the more I reflect on that, the more I realize how limited my perspective really is. I naturally want God’s goodness to look like resolution, clarity, or blessing I can observe right now. But this passage pushes me to lift my eyes. God isn’t simply managing my comfort; He’s forming Christ in me.

The sequence Paul lays out—foreknown, predestined, called, justified, glorified—reveals that God is sovereign over the entire arc of my existence. My story doesn’t begin with my effort, and it won’t end with my limitations. His plans for me were in motion before I was conscious of Him (before all of time actually), and His final work will outlast my lifetime. The “good” He’s working may unfold in ways I never see with earthly eyes: healing that happens in future generations, faith strengthened in others because of my suffering, or fruit that grows long after I’m gone. God’s sovereignty means that nothing is wasted, even when it feels like everything is unfinished.

APPLICATION

Today I want to choose trust over immediacy. I may never witness the full good God is weaving from my circumstances, and that has to be okay. My job is not to demand visibility but to walk faithfully with Him—loving Him, seeking Him, and believing that His purposes for me are anchored in eternity. When I don’t understand the storyline, I’ll rest peacefully in the Author.

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.  And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. Romans 8:26-27

It’s comforting that even when I feel spiritually wordless, the Spirit isn’t silent. Paul says the Spirit intercedes with groans too deep for words. In a world oversaturated with messaging, having a God who speaks without noise is grounding. That speaking is confirmed through God’s word. In prayer and walking in the Spirit (which is also discussed in Galatians 5), we can be confident in that what we hear in our heart (tested by scripture) is the Lord’s voice in our life.

This makes me think about how often I confuse verbosity with depth. We produce and consume so much content—texts, posts, books, podcasts, and opinions—but still feel misunderstood or unable to express ourselves. God steps into that gap with perfect clarity. Knowing the Spirit prays according to God’s will relieves the pressure to “get prayer right.” Prayer becomes less performance and more surrender. That’s something I need.

APPLICATION

Prayer has to be something I build on more and more. I get frustrated with myself when I know that too much time has gone by, or I have made a big decision without prayer. Prayer combined with my pursuit of knowing the Lord through His Word, is a recipe from the Master Chef.

For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.  And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.  For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees?  But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. Romans 8:22-25

Paul moves from creation’s groaning to our own, comparing it to birth pains. Birth pains aren’t pointless—they’re purposeful, moving toward new life. That encourages me in a culture that urges me to escape or flee whenever pain appears. There are parallels in today’s conversations around mental health and burnout. We talk often about coping and stabilizing, but rarely about purposeful transformation that pain can produce. Paul reminds me that hope is not wishful thinking but patient expectation. Still, waiting doesn’t come naturally to us. Our phones, laptops, schedules, and expectations condition us to feel inconvenienced by even brief delays. But God seems far more comfortable working on His (albeit sometimes slow) timelines that cultivate trust rather than speed.

APPLICATION

Today I will lean into patient expectation by choosing one thing I normally rush—like a task, a conversation, a prayer, or even my quiet time—and intentionally slow down to let God work in me during the waiting.