KyKingdomKum

There is a difference between doing something in order to become something and doing something because of who you already are. Religion often teaches us to do. Do better. Pray more. Believe harder. Get it right. Be more obedient. Produce more fruit. Have more faith. And maybe then we will be blessed. Maybe then we will be accepted. Maybe then we will become who God wants us to be. But the revelation of God through Jesus Christ invites us into something entirely different. Being. Before man ever did anything, God said: “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; and let them have dominion.” God's intention was established before man ever took a breath. Image. Dominion. Man did not have to work his way into the image of God. He was created in it. He did not have to chase dominion. God gave it to him. He did not even have to subdue the earth in order to obtain dominion. He subdued because dominion had already been given to him. What he did was supposed to come from who h...

As Father's Day approaches, I find myself thinking about one of the most beautiful pictures of God in all of Scripture: "The LORD thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing." — Zephaniah 3:17 For many of us, our understanding of God has been shaped by performance. We wonder if we've done enough. Prayed enough. Believed enough. Obeyed enough. We imagine God watching us with crossed arms, waiting to see whether we'll get it right. Yet Zephaniah paints a very different picture. The image is not of a disappointed judge. The image is of a Father. I picture a frightened child being picked up and held close. The child is anxious, uncertain, overwhelmed by what he sees and feels. The father doesn't begin with a lecture. He doesn't explain every circumstance. He simply holds the child until the child realizes everything is going to be okay. Then something rem...

For much of my life, when I heard that God judges with righteousness, I understood it to mean that God gives people what they deserve. If He punished evil, that was righteous. If He judged sin, that was righteous. If He struck down the wicked, that was righteous. Certainly, God is just. Scripture never portrays Him as indifferent toward evil. Yet the more I read, the more I found myself wrestling with a question: If righteousness is primarily punitive, how do we reconcile it with the God who describes Himself as gracious, merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness? At times, those ideas seem to pull against each other. Then Jesus arrives. And suddenly everything starts making sense. The righteousness of God doesn't compete with His mercy. The righteousness of God expresses His mercy. The righteousness of God doesn't oppose His love. The righteousness of God fulfills His love. The righteousness of God doesn't contradict His faithfulness. The righte...

One of the first things Scripture reveals about God is His intention. In the opening chapter of Genesis, a pattern emerges: God speaks. The thing comes to pass. God sees that it is good. Again and again, the testimony is repeated. Light. Good. Land and seas. Good. Seed-bearing plants. Good. Sun, moon, and stars. Good. Living creatures. Good. Humanity made in His image. Good. Then finally: "And God saw every thing that He had made, and, behold, it was very good." The repetition is not accidental. It reveals something about the One speaking. God is not indifferent. He is not detached. He is not creating randomly. The repeated declaration of "good" reveals His intention. It shows us what God desires. It gives us insight into His heart. God intends good. Then something unexpected happens. After the work is finished. After God rests. After everything has been declared good. We encounter the first "not good" in Scripture. "It is not good that the man should...

There are moments in life where we recognize God through what we survived. The fire. The flood. The wilderness. The heartbreak. The prison. The failure. And rightly so. Isaiah 43:2 carries weight for those who have actually passed through something: “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee… when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned…” There is comfort in realizing that what should have consumed us did not. But what if that is only part of the story? Because Isaiah 43 does not begin with the fire. It begins with identity. “Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.” — Isaiah 43:1 The flood was not the revelation by itself. The greater revelation was why we were preserved in the first place. The waters did not create covenant. They revealed it. The fire did not make God decide we belonged to Him. The keeping revealed that He already claimed us. What we notice often tells only part of the story. We see survival...