Author: BJ Armstrong

Psalm 28

When I call on God, what do I call Him? Sometimes it’s “Father,” sometimes “Savior.” But I realize that if I have ever called Him “Rock,” it’s because I learned it right here in Psalm 28. David prayed that way, and if it was good enough for David, it’s good enough for me.

But what does it really mean for God to be my Rock? Rocks don’t move. They don’t crack under pressure. They aren’t bothered by storms, by rain, by heavy winds. If God is truly my Rock, then nothing can shake Him — not my relationship problems, not my health issues, not my financial fears, not even death itself.

The truth is, I often want to be a rock myself. I pray for courage, for strength, sometimes even for money, hoping to become strong and immovable. Yet, after the prayer ends, I often feel like a hypocrite — nothing changes. I am still fragile, still anxious, still me. I haven’t become the rock I asked to be.

And maybe that’s exactly the point.

God didn’t promise to make me the Rock. He promised to be the Rock. It’s an important distinction. My strength is not in becoming unbreakable; it’s in leaning on the One who already is. He is unmovable, unshakable, dependable — not me.

So what do I need a Rock for? I need a Rock to stand on when the storms rage. I need a Rock to cling to when my own strength fails. I need a Rock to remind me that though I may falter, He never will.

Psalm 28 teaches me that it’s not about being strong enough. It’s about trusting the One who already is.

Romans 9

Imagine you’re standing by a railroad track. In the distance, you see five people tied to the rails. A train is coming, and death is certain.

This well-known psychological and ethical thought experiment challenges us to make a terrible choice. In its classic form, you can pull a lever to divert the train, sacrificing one person to save five.

But today, the scenario gets more personal. Instead of pulling a lever, imagine the only way to stop the train is by throwing yourself on the tracks. Great suffering—and likely death—awaits. Would you do it?

Before you answer, consider the Apostle Paul in Romans 9. He is confronting a heartbreaking reality: many of his fellow Jews will not accept Jesus. Their spiritual death and separation from God is certain.

“My heart is filled with bitter sorrow and unending grief,” he writes.
“For I would be willing to be forever cursed—cut off from Christ!—if that would save them.” (Romans 9:2–3, NLT)

Paul isn’t presenting a hypothetical. He is expressing genuine anguish and a willingness to suffer eternal separation from Christ if it meant salvation for others. He is volunteering to throw himself on the tracks.

My heart aches when I consider the depth of Paul’s pain. He offers to embrace a life void of hope, peace, and love, if only his people might be saved. That’s a love that mirrors the sacrifice of Christ Himself.

Today, we face a similar choice—not necessarily to die, but to give of ourselves for the sake of others. Will we cling tightly to the promise that Christ is for me, or will we surrender that comfort to share Him with a world that desperately needs Him?

What will you choose?

Acts 24-25

I remember a book that I was reading, a long time ago.  I do not remember the name of it or the actual content.  What I do remember is being scared.  Really scared.  But not in the way that you might think.  I mean, when you think about being scared, we usually think about something evil.  But this was not the case.  It’s not evil that I was afraid of.  It was holy.

I think that my experience was similar to Felix’s.  You may want to reread it in Acts 24-25.  Let me set the stage.  He was talking to Jesus, and Jesus was telling him of our behavior and God’s judgment that would soon be upon us.  Then, “as he reasoned about righteousness and self-control and the coming judgment, Felix was alarmed.”

Stop for a moment and think about Felix’s alarm.  What was he afraid of?  Do you see it?  Felix was not afraid of something evil.  He was afraid of something good.  Jesus was showing him the Holy, and he could not hear it.  What is it about the holy that we do not want to hear?  Simply put, it’s the price.

If you can tolerate the old English, it is worth listening to John Calvin.  He says that we  “do desire to hear the gospel preached.”  But, he continues, as soon as we have heard, we do by and by either loathe, or else they cannot suffer it.” Do you hear it?

There are only two reasons, according to Calvin.  First, we may loathe it.  That means that we disagree with it.  We want to fight it.  That does not describe me.  If you are reading this, it probably does not describe you either.  Instead, I am the one that “cannot suffer it.”  Do you know what that means?  It means that I am not willing to give up myself.  I cannot fathom sacrificing my own agenda for his.  That would mean too much suffering for me!

Is there a limit to your suffering?  A point that you no longer want to follow Jesus because it’s just too hard?  The answer is yes.  It is too hard.   I am thankful for his grace.

For by grace, you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.  Ephesians 2:8-9 (ESV)

Acts 15

10,000 hours.  That’s how many hours of practice you need to become a master a task, according to Malcom Gladwell.  What do you want to master?

Let’s say you want to learn to play the piano.  You commit to one hour, every day, learning and practicing your new craft.  If you listen to Gladwell, one hour per day will take you 27 years to master it.

I’m discouraged before I start.

Its discouraging because I want the result and it takes too long to get it.  That’s what I don’t like about Gladwell’s formula.  It puts all the emphasis on the end goal, but nothing on the beginning.  Truth is, joy starts the moment you decide to play.

At that moment, when you start playing, you are a piano player.

New players are vulnerable.  To help, experts will criticize, judge and scrutinize.  The new student quickly becomes discouraged.  The joy is gone.

New Christians struggle with the same issues.  Experts say that believing isn’t enough.  You must be baptized, circumcised, read your bible, pray every day, stop drinking, never smoke again.  You name it.  New believers are discouraged by the rules, every day.

Paul steps in to remind us that its none of those things that save us.  In fact, the moment a new believer decides, grace steps in.  God is glorified.  They may not be the prettiest example of a Christian, but to God, they look just like you and I.

He made no distinction between us and them, cleansing their hearts by faith.  Now then, why are you testing God by putting a yoke on the disciples’ necks that neither our ancestors nor we have been able to bear?  On the contrary, we believe that we are saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus in the same way they are.” Acts 15:9-11 (CSB)

Acts 5

What does it mean to be a “fearless Christ follower?”  Let’s start with what it looks like to be fearless.  To be fearless is not the absence of fear.  Fearless is action in the presence of fear.  To help illustrate this, look at two stories in Acts 5.  The first is about Ananias and Sapphira.  The second, involves the apostles.

Annanias and Sapphira decided, together, to give the proceeds of a real estate deal to the church.  Simple enough, right?  The problem is, they didn’t do it.  Why not?  Consider for a moment that the answer is fear.  At the end of Acts 4, we see the church caring for its own.  Wealthy people, the ones who owned homes and land, were selling them to provide money for the church.  Somewhere, sitting in the congregation is Ananias and Sapphira.  The Holy Spirit was at work and they felt what everyone else did.  The love of God.  They were a part of it.  In fact, they wanted to give to it.  In that moment, they made a pledge to give the land that they owned.

I imagine them getting home that night feeling great about their decision to give back.  It is the right thing to do.  Maybe they have a doubt or two creep in.  Satan whispers to them, “hey, why did you give so much?”  They probably dismissed these early thoughts.  If they are anything like me, however, the thoughts continue.  I would start thinking about how irresponsible it is to give up so much.  I mean, “what about the college funds?”  I fear that we‘ll fail to provide enough for them already.  Then, I think about retirement.  How on earth am I going to fund my life on the little that I have saved.  As you can see, fear is tricky.  It comes to us masterfully disguised.  Ananias and Sapphira, gave in to it.

The apostles stand in stark contrast to Ananias and Sapphira.  When faced with opposition, they stood fearless.  In Acts 5:29, Peter tells the captain of the guards that no matter the consequences, he will obey God.  He didn’t care if they harmed him physically or mentally.  Neither of those were as important to him as the truth of God.  Peter, had defined the ONE thing about this life on earth.  It is that nothing matters except God.

No doubt, today we will be faced with opposition. The question remains how we will choose to deal with it.  Will we choose to uphold the Truth and maintain an eternal perspective?   The Bible is clear that our failure to do so carries the consequence of death.  That threat is not only referring to physical death.  The tougher penalty is spiritual death.  Life without the Holy Spirit.  The apostles, on the other hand, show us that an eternal perspective, armed with Truth gives life.  Life powered by the Holy Spirit. Everyday, in every circumstance.

Psalms 7

The Lord judges the peoples; vindicate me, Lord, according to my righteousness and my integrity. Psalms 7:8 (CSB)

There are two reasons we don’t call upon God.  We either don’t believe that he can or we don’t believe we deserve it. Both responses prevent God from working in our lives.

David believed that God was capable.  Most of us do.  We call him all-mighty, all-powerful and able to move mountains.  If those things are true, our problem, like David’s, is getting God to act.  In Psalms 7, we hear David begging God to act on his behalf.  “Do it,” he says, “according to my righteousness and integrity.”  I don’t know about you, but I stop short of that one.

Those words make me shudder. I am all too familiar with my levels of righteousness and integrity.  I know what I deserve.  Why would God ever vindicate me?

The only answer I have is that I don’t know.  Paul gets it right, “Yet God, in his grace, freely makes us right in his sight. He did this through Christ Jesus when he freed us from the penalty for our sins.” Romans 3:24 (NLT)

God, vindicate me.

In John 15, Jesus tells us to go and produce fruit.  I can do that.  In fact, I’ve been preparing my whole life.

• I will work harder
• I will sell more
• I will get more followers
• I will grow bigger and be known

Then, I can be as Jesus described and “produce much,” and will make him proud.  Not really.  Those goals produce American fruit.  Jesus defines fruit differently.  Galatians 5 tells us that his fruit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control.

• I will serve more
• I will give generously
• I will mind my own affairs
• I will forgive fully – myself and others

Now, there is only one way to maintain a life with those priorities.  “Remain in me,” Jesus says.  “Seek me, come to me “Apart from me, you can do nothing.  But if you remain in me and my words remain in you, you may ask for anything you want, and it will be granted!” John 15:7.

John 5

You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, 40 yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life. John 5:39-40 (ESV)

The Bible is often referred to as the greatest story ever told. Within its pages, we find history, poetry, prophecy, and profound wisdom that has shaped civilizations and transformed lives. Yet, as we open its pages, we must ask ourselves: What are we truly seeking?

Some approach the Bible as an academic exercise, digging into its linguistic nuances and historical context. Others view it as a manual for moral living, mining its pages for rules and principles to guide their behavior. And still others treat it as a self-help book, searching for inspiration or solutions to life’s problems. While each of these pursuits has its merits, they fall short if they miss the central figure of Scripture: Jesus Christ.

From Genesis to Revelation, the Bible points to Jesus. He is the seed of the woman who will crush the serpent’s head (Genesis 3:15). He is the suffering servant of Isaiah 53, bearing the sins of many. He is the Word made flesh, who dwelt among us, full of grace and truth (John 1:14). He is the Lamb who was slain, worthy to receive all honor and glory (Revelation 5:12). The Bible is not a collection of disconnected stories or teachings; it is one grand narrative of God’s redemptive plan, culminating in Jesus.

If we read the Bible and miss Jesus, we are like people admiring the frame of a masterpiece while ignoring the painting itself. We may walk away with interesting facts or a sense of moral obligation, but we will miss the life-changing power of the gospel. Jesus Himself rebuked the religious leaders of His day for this very mistake: “You study the Scriptures diligently because you think that in them you have eternal life. These are the very Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life” (John 5:39-40).

Finding Jesus in the Bible is not about uncovering hidden codes or secret messages; it is about seeing how every page, every story, and every command points to Him. The Bible shows us our need for a Savior, reveals the depth of God’s love, and invites us into a relationship with Him. This is why we read, study, and meditate on Scripture—not merely to gain knowledge or check a religious box, but to encounter the living Christ.

If we approach the Bible with any other purpose and fail to find Jesus, we are wasting our time. The Scriptures are not an end in themselves; they are a means to an end. That end is knowing, loving, and following Jesus. May we open the Word with hearts ready to see Him, and may He transform us as we behold His glory.

Job 40-42, Psalm 150, Rev 22

Good stories follow the same pattern. It begins with a journey, moves through a struggle, and ultimately leads to transformation. The book of Job is no different. Your life—your story—is no different.

I hate Job’s struggle. Truly, I hate reading about it. Thirty-six of the forty-two chapters in Job are filled with sickness, loss, and uncertainty as Job and his friends wrestle with suffering.

Today, we finally get to the end.  It’s easy to dwell on the last chapter and celebrate Job’s restored wealth.  Finally, I think, he is rewarded for his faithfulness. But my initial thoughts are wrong.  The restoration of Job’s wealth is not the victory.  No, victory is secured in verses 5 and 6.  Job says,

I had only heard about you before,

but now I have seen you with my own eyes.

I take back everything I said,

and I sit in dust and ashes to show my repentance.”  Job 42:5-6 (NLT)

Do you see it?  Job’s relief wasn’t about prosperity. Nor was it about vindication.  Job found relief when he fixed his eyes on God.

Psalms 123

I lift my eyes to you,

the one enthroned in heaven.

Like a servant’s eyes on his master’s hand,

like a servant girl’s eyes on her mistress’s hand,

so our eyes are on the Lord our God

until he shows us favor.

Show us favor, Lord, show us favor,

for we’ve had more than enough contempt.

We’ve had more than enough

scorn from the arrogant

and contempt from the proud.

Job 21-23, Psalm 101, Rev 16

God’s wrath came in seven bowls.  Each of them poured out by an angel.  The plagues that they delivered caused malignant worse, water turned to blood – first the sea, then the rivers and springs – the sun became so hot it scorched people, the light was extinguished plunging the world into darkness, even the Euphrates river dried up.  “But,” we are reminded after each one, “they did not repent of their evil deeds and turn to God.”

I am tempted to believe that we are hopless.  Perhaps there is nothing that can conquer our pride and turn to God.  I would think that, but it’s clearly not true.  Psalm 101 gives us a beautiful picture of David.  This is what repent and turn to God looks like.

Psalms 101 (NLT)

I will sing of your love and justice, Lord.

I will praise you with songs.

I will be careful to live a blameless life—when will you come to help me?

I will lead a life of integrity in my own home.

I will refuse to look at anything vile and vulgar.

I hate all who deal crookedly;

I will have nothing to do with them.

I will reject perverse ideas and stay away from every evil.

I will not tolerate people who slander their neighbors.

I will not endure conceit and pride.

I will search for faithful people to be my companions.

Only those who are above reproach will be allowed to serve me.

I will not allow deceivers to serve in my house, and liars will not stay in my presence.

My daily task will be to ferret out the wicked and free the city of the Lord from their grip.