Tag: Romans

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.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.  For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God.  For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. Romans 8:18-21

The way Paul talks about present suffering compared to future glory forces me to rethink my definitions of discomfort. Today’s world pushes immediate relief and instant solutions, but Paul lifts my eyes to something far more lasting. Creation itself, he says, is groaning for redemption—just like many of us quietly groan under anxieties we don’t voice. It’s striking how much the planet’s own instability mirrors human instability. Environmental crises, social unraveling, and personal burnout all feel like echoes of that same groaning Paul describes. However, Paul says that hope is not naïve—it’s rooted in the absolute truth of God’s future restoration. This passage invites me to sit with the tension rather than fix it quickly. It doesn’t shame the groaning but gives it meaning, and that is strangely freeing in a world that tells us groaning equals failure.

APPLICATION

Today I want to acknowledge the parts of my life that feel like they’re groaning rather than
pretending they don’t exist. I’ll intentionally name one specific frustration and hold it before God as something He promises to redeem. God calls me to joy in Him even though we groan for His triumphant return.

12 So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. 13 For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. 14 For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. Romans 8:12-14

Paul says we’re debtors—but not to the flesh. That old master doesn’t deserve my loyalty. It only led me toward death. I don’t owe sin anything. But I do owe Christ everything. Not to earn salvation, but because He paid the ultimate price to secure it. His death didn’t just cancel my debt—it transferred it. Now I live in joyful indebtedness to the One who gave me life.

And here’s the miracle: I’m not just a servant—I’m a son. The Spirit doesn’t just empower me to kill sin; He confirms my adoption. I’m led by Him, not driven by fear. I’m not working off a spiritual mortgage—I’m living in a house that grace built. And every act of obedience is a thank-you note to the One who rescued me.

APPLICATION

Today, I live as a debtor—not to sin, but to Christ. I owe Him my life, my breath, my eternity. And I don’t repay Him with guilt—I respond with gratitude. I walk by the Spirit because I’ve been adopted. I fight sin because I’ve been freed. I obey because I’ve been loved. That’s the kind of debt I want to carry—not one that crushes me, but one that lifts me. Because I know who paid the price. And I know who calls me son.

9 You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. 10 But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. 11 If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you. Romans 8:9-11

This passage draws a hard line between those who are in the flesh and those who are in the Spirit. It’s not about church attendance or moral effort; it’s about the presence of the Spirit of God being in you or not. Paul says, “You, however, are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you.” That’s the test. Not whether I feel spiritual, not whether I’ve had a good week, but whether the Spirit of God lives in me.

And here’s the thing: if the Spirit dwells in me, everything changes. My identity shifts. My power source shifts. My future shifts. The same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead now lives in me. That’s not metaphor, it’s resurrection power. And that power doesn’t just give me hope for the future, it gives me strength for today. It gives life to my mortal body, even in the middle of weakness, temptation, and fatigue.

I talk about this test because the Lord has shown this to me. His work in my life, through His Spirit, is quantifiable. When I surrendered my all, my life, my future, and everything I am to God, that released my own expected power and allowed God to take control. His voice through His word, His conviction of my heart when I am tempted to sin, the sensitivity of my heart to the suffering of others, and the new lens I have that sees His hand in even the most challenging circumstances is overwhelming evidence of His presence in my life. I am eternally secure and there is no greater hope I have than that.

APPLICATION

Today, I don’t measure my spiritual life by how I feel, I measure it by who lives in me. That’s the true test. And because the Spirit of Christ dwells in me, I’m not stuck. I’m not powerless. I’m not alone. I have resurrection life pulsing through me. So, I walk like someone alive. I fight sin like someone empowered. I face discouragement like someone indwelt. Because I am. And that truth steadies me when everything else feels shaky.

5 For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. 6 For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. 7 For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot. 8 Those who are in the flesh cannot please God. Romans 8:5-8

Paul lays it out: if your mind is set on the flesh, it leads to death. Not just eventual death—spiritual deadness, relational breakdown, moral confusion.

Any of you remember the 90’s Public Service Announcement (PSA) on “This is your brain on drugs?” showing an egg being dropped into a super-hot skillet? In the context of this passage and the way Paul talks about “the mind on”, reminded me of it. It’s like living with your brain in a frying pan, and the frying pan is our fleshly desires…before Christ. The flesh doesn’t just distract, it dominates. It’s hostile to God. It doesn’t submit to His law, and it can’t. That’s the scary part. It’s not just unwilling, it’s unable. And those who live in the flesh can’t please God. No matter how good it looks on the outside, it’s still smoke and sizzle with no substance.

But the flip side? The mind set on the Spirit is life and peace. It’s clarity. It’s purpose. It’s freedom. It’s like stepping out of the haze and breathing clean air again. The Spirit doesn’t just change my behavior; He rewires my thinking. He gives me a new operating system. One that’s tuned to God, not hostile to Him.

APPLICATION

Today, I check where my mind is set. Am I letting the flesh fry my brain—feeding it lies, bitterness, self-indulgence? Or am I setting my mind on the Spirit—truth, grace, obedience, peace? I’ve lived with my soul scrambled before. I don’t want to go back. I want the kind of clarity that only comes from walking with the Spirit. Because that’s where life is. That’s where peace is. And that’s where I want to be.

For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. 3 For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, 4 in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. Romans 8:2-4

This passage shows me that the Spirit doesn’t just comfort me—He liberates me. I’ve been set free from the law of sin and death, and now I walk in the power of the Spirit, not the pressure of performance.

Paul says the law of the Spirit of life has set me free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. That’s not just a shift in theology; it’s a shift in power. The old law could diagnose my condition, but it couldn’t heal me. It was weakened by the flesh, not because the law was flawed, but because I was. I couldn’t keep it. I couldn’t fulfill it. So, God did what I couldn’t. He sent His Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and in that flesh, He condemned sin. Not me—>sin.

That’s huge. Jesus didn’t just take my punishment; He took sin’s power and crushed it. And He did it so that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in me—not by me, but in me. That’s the Spirit’s work. I don’t walk according to the flesh anymore. I walk according to the Spirit. That doesn’t mean I’m perfect, it means I’m empowered. The Spirit enables me to live out what the law demanded but couldn’t produce.

APPLICATION

Today, I don’t live under the weight of trying to be good enough. I live under the freedom of the Spirit. That means I don’t just try harder, I trust deeper. I lean into the Spirit’s power, not my own. And when I stumble, I don’t spiral into shame, I remember that sin has already been condemned. I’m not condemned. I’m free. And that freedom shows up in how I walk, in how I love, how I repent, how I obey. Not perfectly, but progressively. Because the Spirit is alive in me, and He’s leading me toward life.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Romans 8:1

This verse is a thunderclap of grace after the storm of Romans 7. “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” That word “therefore” ties it directly to everything Paul just said—the struggle, the failure, the cry for deliverance. And then this: no condemnation. Not less condemnation. Not delayed condemnation. None.

This isn’t just a theological statement, it’s a lifeline. I’ve wrestled with guilt, with shame, with the feeling that I’ll never measure up. Romans 7 showed me the war inside, and Romans 8:1 tells me that war doesn’t end in judgment, it ends in mercy. If I’m in Christ, I’m not condemned. Period.

APPLICATION

Today, I don’t live under the weight of my worst moments. I live under the banner of grace. That doesn’t mean I ignore sin—it means I fight it from a place of security, not fear. I’m not trying to earn a verdict. I’ve already been declared free. And that freedom gives me courage to keep walking, even when I stumble. Because I know the Judge has already ruled—and He ruled in favor of mercy.

21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. 22 For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, 23 but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24 Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? 25 Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin. Romans 7:21-25

Paul ends with a cry that feels familiar: “Who will deliver me from this body of death?” Those who know me, know that I refer to this earthly body and flesh I live in here on earth as a carcass. That question Paul asked is the question I’ve asked in my lowest moments. The answer isn’t a technique or a strategy—it’s a person. Jesus Christ. He’s the one who rescues me, not just from the penalty of sin, but from its power. I serve God, but the flesh still fights. That tension doesn’t mean I’ve failed—it means I’m in process. It means I’m not home yet, but I’m headed there.

APPLICATION

Today, I don’t look inward for deliverance. I look upward. I thank God through Jesus Christ that I’m not alone in this fight. And I keep walking, even when it’s hard, because I know who’s leading me. Grace doesn’t just forgive—it sustains. And that’s what I need most. I’m not defined by the struggle—I’m defined by the Savior who walks with me through it. One huge outcome of seeing the “wins” Jesus achieves when I am dependent on Him, increases my faith for the next big rock to move in my life. Sanctification is an amazing process!

14 For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am of the flesh, sold under sin. 15 For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. 16 Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. 17 So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. 18 For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. Romans 7:14-20

This is the part of Romans that feels like Paul is reading my journal. I want to do what’s right, but I keep doing what I hate. There’s a war inside me. My mind agrees with God’s law, but my flesh pulls me in the opposite direction. It’s not just weakness—it’s slavery. And even though I’ve been freed, the residue of that slavery still shows up. I know what’s good, I even desire it, but I can’t carry it out perfectly. That gap between desire and ability—that’s where the battle lives.

This place is where we see people who have accepted Jesus, struggle with sin and addictive behavior. We need to want what Jesus wants for us, more than what our flesh wants for us. This can come in the form of pride, substances, sexual desires, and many more. Until we let Christ have Lordship over our life, the power of His Spirit can’t do the heavy work we need to overcome our struggle.

APPLICATION

I don’t pretend I’ve got it all together. I acknowledge the war. And in that war, I cling to grace. I don’t excuse my sin, but I don’t despair either. I keep fighting, knowing that the struggle itself is evidence that I’ve been changed. Dead people don’t wrestle—only the living do. And I’m alive in Christ.

7 What then shall we say? That the law is sin? By no means! Yet if it had not been for the law, I would not have known sin. For I would not have known what it is to covet if the law had not said, “You shall not covet.” 8 But sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, produced in me all kinds of covetousness. For apart from the law, sin lies dead. 9 I was once alive apart from the law, but when the commandment came, sin came alive and I died. 10 The very commandment that promised life proved to be death to me. 11 For sin, seizing an opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me. 12 So the law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good.
13 Did that which is good, then, bring death to me? By no means! It was sin, producing death in me through what is good, in order that sin might be shown to be sin, and through the commandment might become sinful beyond measure. Romans 7:7-13

This section is raw. Paul says the law isn’t sinful—it’s holy. But when it came into the picture, sin sprang to life. I get that. The moment I know the rule, something in me wants to break it. Not because the rule is bad, but because sin is alive in me. The law acts like a mirror—it doesn’t cause the dirt, but it shows it. And sin, being what it is, uses even good things to bring death. That’s how twisted it is. It takes what’s holy and turns it into a weapon.

I see this with so many things in our culture that in and of themselves are not bad, but what we as humans have done, in our sin, have so entirely corrupted them. The flesh wants to see how far it can go…it wants to push the barriers…it wants to feel more. At the end of the day, our flesh wants to please itself.

APPLICATION

When I feel convicted, I don’t blame the standard. I let it expose what’s really going on inside me. That’s uncomfortable, but it’s necessary. The law shows me my need, and that need drives me to grace. I don’t run from conviction—I let it lead me to the cross, where mercy meets me in my mess.