Saturday, April 11, 2026

A Relationship Not Religion

 



Jesus Christ is not a religion. It is a relationship with God.

Scripture does not speak of salvation as cold ceremony, but as fellowship. John wrote, “our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ.” In Christ, we are not invited into empty tradition, but into living communion with the God who made us and loves us.
Religion without the heart can become a shell—something practiced with the lips while the soul remains far away. But Jesus calls us closer. He said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life: no one cometh unto the Father, but by me.” That is the language of relationship. Through Him, we do not simply learn about God from a distance; we come to know Him as Father.
This relationship is not earned by human effort. It is given by grace. “But as many as received him, to them gave he the right to become children of God.” What a tender promise: children, not strangers; welcomed, not rejected; loved, not merely tolerated. In Christ, prayer becomes more than ritual—it becomes speaking with the One who hears. Obedience becomes more than duty—it becomes love in action. Faith becomes more than agreement—it becomes trust in a living Savior.
Jesus did not die and rise again so people could merely adopt a label. He came so that dead hearts might live. He said, “I came that they may have life, and may have it abundantly.” That abundant life is found in walking with Him daily, hearing His Word, trusting His mercy, and abiding in His love. Christianity at its truest is not empty religion. It is life with God through Jesus Christ.


Taken from an online devotional)

Wednesday, April 8, 2026

The Joy of the Anticipation of Heavwn




(taken from an online devotional)

 

My only goal at this point in my life is to join Jesus in heaven one day.

Lord, the older I get, the more clearly I see what matters. So many things that once felt urgent—the spotless house, the busy calendar, the expectations of others, even the dreams I once chased—have quietly lost their shine. What remains is You. After years of caring for family, praying over children and grandchildren, enduring losses, celebrating small mercies, and walking through both laughter and loneliness, my heart has grown simpler. My deepest desire now is this: to finish well and, one day, join Jesus in heaven.
There is a holy comfort in knowing I do not walk toward an unknown future. Jesus said, “I am going there to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2, NIV). What a tender promise for a heart that has spent a lifetime preparing places for others—setting tables, making beds, welcoming loved ones, and keeping faith alive in ordinary days. Now Christ Himself is preparing a place for me.
When the world feels noisy and temporary, steady my soul with Your truth: “But our citizenship is in heaven” (Philippians 3:20, NIV). This life matters, and I will keep loving, serving, forgiving, and encouraging while You give me breath. But I do not cling too tightly to what cannot last. My truest home is with You.
Teach me to live with heaven in view—not with fear, but with peace; not with regret, but with gratitude. Let my remaining years be marked by gentleness, wisdom, and a settled joy that points others to Christ. And when my race is complete, welcome me into



Sunday, April 5, 2026

He is Risen! Praise the Lord!

 

                                                   





Because of  Jesus rising from the dead we too shall one day,  We too  have victory over death and  the devil.  We too experience peace.  







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