Tension & Turmoil: How Do You Pray When the World Is at War?

When the world is at war—especially during a conflict you disagree with—it can leave you feeling conflicted about how to even approach God. Do you pray for peace? For justice? For protection?

What if you are no longer entirely sure what the “right” outcome is supposed to look like?

And perhaps even more unsettling: What happens when you are no longer fully confident your own perspective is entirely right either?

If that is where you find yourself, you are not alone.

One of the comforting realities of Scripture is that the Bible makes room for this kind of tension. It gives language to grief, uncertainty, confusion, and even disagreement while still drawing us toward prayer instead of away from it.

So, what does it look like to process war faithfully?

First, it starts with honesty, raw as it may be.

One of the greatest misconceptions about prayer is that we are supposed to sound composed and certain before approaching God. Yet throughout Scripture, we see the opposite. The Psalms are filled with unresolved prayers from people who were hurting, confused, and desperate for understanding:

“How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (Psalm 13:1)

There is nothing polished about that prayer. It is emotional. Unfiltered. Human. And maybe that is the point.

When violence unfolds across the world and everything feels heavy or deeply wrong, we do not have to sanitize those emotions before bringing them to God. We can pray honestly:

  • “God, this does not make sense.”
  • “I do not understand why this is happening.”
  • “This feels heartbreaking.”

Lament is not the absence of faith; it is faith refusing to disengage. At the same time, Scripture continually redirects our attention away from political positions and back toward people—an increasingly difficult thing in an age where outrage spreads faster than empathy.

In 1 Timothy 2:1, Paul urges believers to pray “for all people.” Not merely the people we agree with. All people.

That includes civilians caught in the middle of conflict, families grieving unimaginable loss, children living in fear, and even soldiers on opposing sides of war.

It is possible to care deeply about human suffering without endorsing every action tied to it. Prayer allows us to hold that tension without surrendering compassion. And perhaps that matters more than we realize because prolonged conflict has a way of hardening people if they are not careful.

Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (Matthew 5:9). Peace in Scripture is not passive sentimentality. It is something God values deeply.

Praying for peace may feel unrealistic in the middle of war, but it is not naive. If anything, it is resistance against the belief that destruction and violence are inevitable.

Sometimes our prayers are simple:

  • “God, interrupt cycles of violence.”
  • “Bring de-escalation where tensions are rising.”
  • “Raise up leaders who value wisdom over power.”

Even when we cannot envision peace ourselves, prayer aligns our hearts with the heart of God.

But Scripture also makes clear that justice matters deeply to Him.

Micah 6:8 reminds us to “act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God.” I think it is significant that mercy and humility remain attached to justice in that verse because, especially during war, the desire for justice can slowly transform into bitterness, vengeance, or hatred if we are not careful.

Prayer has a way of exposing that shift before it consumes us.

We can ask God to defend the vulnerable, bring truth into the light, and hold powerful people accountable while simultaneously asking Him to protect our hearts from becoming hardened in the process.

Because if we are not careful, we can become so consumed with winning arguments that we forget the humanity of the people suffering underneath them.

Which brings me to arguably one of the hardest parts of all: praying for leaders.

Scripture instructs believers to pray “for kings and all those in authority” (1 Timothy 2:2), even when we strongly disagree with them.

That does not mean endorsing every decision they make. It means recognizing that no earthly authority exists outside God’s awareness and asking Him to intervene where human wisdom falls short.

Sometimes those prayers sound like:

  • “Give them wisdom they do not currently have.”
  • “Surround them with truth instead of ego.”
  • “Restrain decisions that would bring unnecessary harm.”

Other times, all we can bring before God is confusion.

Romans 8:26 says, “We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us.” I love that verse because it reminds us that prayer does not require perfect clarity.

Sometimes faithfulness simply sounds like:

  • “God, I feel torn.”
  • “I do not know what the right outcome is.”
  • “Help me not grow numb to suffering.”

God is not waiting for us to say everything perfectly before He listens. He meets us honestly in uncertainty.

And maybe that is one of the hidden invitations within prayer itself: not merely to ask God to change the world around us, but to let Him change what is happening within us too.

Because over time, prayer has a way of softening us instead of hardening us. It makes us more compassionate instead of more reactive, more humble instead of more certain.

As James 3:17 describes wisdom from heaven is “peace-loving, considerate, full of mercy.”

You do not have to solve the world’s problems to pray faithfully in the middle of them. You simply have to show up honestly and trust that God meets you there.

Graphic generated through ChatGPT

Presence With Purpose: What Companies Must Consider about Remote Work

As more companies return to hybrid or fully onsite work, I keep coming back to a simple question: If we’re asking people to be physically present again…what are we actually using that presence for?

We can’t rewind to pre-pandemic. Work changed. People changed. Expectations around flexibility, productivity, and trust changed. And for many employees, performance didn’t drop when they left the office—it actually improved.

So, when organizations decide that onsite time should increase, the “why” matters more than ever. It can’t just be about proximity for proximity’s sake or leaders feeling secure within their control.

If people are commuting in, that time should feel different—not just a change of scenery from remote work. It should be where in-person presence adds something you can’t get through a screen:

  • Faster collaboration and real-time problem solving
  • Deeper mentorship and coaching moments
  • Relationship-building that strengthens trust
  • Decisions that benefit from shared context and energy

Otherwise, employees start asking a fair question: What’s the point of being here?

And honestly, that’s where a lot of friction shows up—not in the requirement itself, but in the lack of clarity and communication. around it.

Most people aren’t anti-office. They’re anti-wasted-office-time.

They don’t mind coming in when it’s useful, engaging, or meaningful. What frustrates them is showing up to sit on video calls all day, doing the exact same work they could have done remotely—just with a commute added on top. That’s not collaboration. That’s relocation.

Thus, if we’re going to bring people back in more consistently, maybe the better conversation isn’t how often, but how intentionally.

Because proximity, when used well, is powerful. It accelerates ideas. It strengthens relationships. It builds momentum. But when used poorly, it just feels like distance with extra steps.

Cover graphic creds: iBelieve.com

Supporting Scriptures: Colossians 3:23, Ephesians 6:6-7, Hebrews 10:24–25

An Eye-ronic Metaphor: A SOAP Study on Matthew 7:1–5

Scripture: Matthew 7:1-5

In Matthew 7:1–5, Jesus gives one of His most quoted—and arguably most misunderstood—teachings:

Do not judge, or you too will be judged…Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?

Spoken during the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus describes the character of those who belong to the Kingdom of Heaven. His words are not a proscription against discernment but a warning against hypocrisy and self-righteous condemnation.

But how can we apply this to our everyday lives, our relationships, and even our jobs?

As always, let’s dive in.

Observations and Applications:

1. “Do Not Judge” — What Jesus Is Not Saying

In today’s world, “Do not judge” is generally used to discourage behavior evaluation and sin identification. However, that interpretation doesn’t hold up in context, as a few verses later (Matthew 7:15), Jesus implores discernment, instructing his followers to “watch out for false prophets.” As we see throughout Scripture, particularly in Paul’s letters, believers are called to evaluate teaching, fruit, and conduct.

Thus, we can deduce that Jesus is not encouraging silent tongues in the face of injustice but rather confronting a posture of superiority, eager to point out faults in others while remaining blind to one’s own.

2. The Speck and the Log — A Deliberate Exaggeration

While some picture Jesus as matter-of-fact in sermons, this passage reveals an expression of humanity, specifically the use of humor and exaggeration to make certain truths vivid.

Consider the contrast:

  • A speck of sawdust in someone else’s eye.
  • A massive plank lodged in your own.

The image is absurd. Imagine someone trying to perform eye surgery while a two-by-four is sticking out of their face. Crazy, right? Well, maybe not so much given our tendency to minimize our own sin and magnify the faults of others,

Note the metaphor’s tie-in to unholy offense. Any time we hold a grudge or foster bitterness and resentment in our hearts, we invert this order. Either we expect the other side to yield first, or we assume the speck is on our side.

Yet, the comparison infers, neither option is correct; hence, His warning: “For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged.”

Essentially, Jesus is cautioning us to a familiar theme in Scripture: The measure we use becomes the measure applied to us. God opposes hypocrisy because it misrepresents His character and misappropriates humility. When we judge harshly, we assume a role that belongs to God. When we judge mercilessly, we forget how much mercy we ourselves have received.

3. “First, take the Log Out.”

Notice Jesus does not say, “Ignore the speck in your brother’s eye,” but charges us to “First take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck.

Why this direction? For starters, at the heart of love is mercy, and mercy, by nature, does not condemn but seeks to restore and transform through constructive insight.

Knowing this, we can confidently confront our sin by:

  • Approaching others gently.
  • Correcting without cruelty.
  • Speaking truth without pride.
  • Extending grace without reciprocity.

Only when humility meets repentance will our correction convey in an empowering and encouraging way.

4. A Diagnostic Question

Before addressing someone else’s failure, we must ask ourselves some clarifying questions:

  • Have I honestly examined my own heart?
  • Am I motivated by love or by irritation?
  • Do I desire restoration or vindication?
  • Have I invited God to expose my blind spots?

Taking this inventory, we align ourselves to an essential truth:

Judgment that flows from humility leads to healing; judgment that flows from pride leads to division.

5. The Gospel Lens

Ultimately, Matthew 7:1–5 drives us back to the Gospel, where at the Cross, we discern two clear truths:

  1. Our sin is serious enough to require sacrifice.
  2. God’s grace is abundant enough to forgive it.

When we live at the foot of the cross, arrogance dissolves. We remember that we are recipients of mercy before we are dispensers of correction. The person who knows they have been forgiven does not wield judgment carelessly.

Final Thoughts & Prayer

Matthew 7:1–5 is not a call to oral silence but to moral integrity. As modeled during His ministry, Jesus invites us into a community marked by:

  • Self-awareness
  • Repentance
  • Mercy
  • Clear-eyed love

However, to fully abide in this series, we must repent of any place where we find safety in critiquing over confessing and/or analyzing another’s pride before confronting our own.

Bottom line: Before we reach for someone else’s speck, dare to kneel with your own log. Once immersed in that posture—low, honest, dependent—it’s only a matter of time until you begin to see clearly again.

Let’s pray…

Heavenly Father. We commit this study, this day into your hands. We ask you seal your truth into our hearts. May it not vacate our ears or return void. Continue to teach us how to forgive, how to timely release our offenses. Refine this quality in our spirits so we can better illuminate the fullness of your love. We receive your grace afresh and anew with the aim to extend what you’ve blessed and equipped us with. Whether we’re poor in spirit or riding high in faith, reveal to us logs to extract so we can maturely handle the specks we encounter. In your holy, precious name, we declare victory in this area as we conform to your likeness. May it be so. May it be done. We love you, Lord. Amen.”

Cover graphic creds: Goodsnewtext

Like a Good Neighbor

Written 11/09/2025

It’s a crisp autumn night as I overlook a neighborhood that, at the moment, resembles a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. I guess that’s what happens when severe weather strikes during peak foliage season. Rivers of color up ahead and flowing on sideroads across the subdivision. A bizarre spectacle as I pen these thoughts.

To be honest, I’m not okay right now. When a neighbor whose dog viciously attacked one of my boys last February cusses out my older two for cleaning up debris 15-20 yards from his property and demands I “move the f***” away”, how can you not be jolted? Dude, your dog almost killed my son. We relocated ours for healing and trauma counseling. The dust has settled. Move on. We have no intention to invade. Let life happen. Don’t curse my kids.

Of course, I keep the struggle internal and swiftly comply. But deep down, I’m livid. Just 15 hours prior, I had pulled over in my in-laws’ subdivision to ride out a storm, hazards flaring, my upper half documenting. For the first 10 minutes, everything is fine, my awe struck at the scene of one of the most impressive, hail-laden downpours I’ve ever seen.

That’s when an older gentleman with an umbrella walks out to my passenger door. Instead of asking if I was okay, he stoops down and yells, “What the hell are you doing?” Without any official storm-chasing designation, I stumble into my explanation, though emphasizing my place on public property. “What is your reason for being here? Is there somewhere else you can go?” Annoyed at the mere existence of this exchange, I conclude with a defiant, “Absolutely!” I turn the key and drive away, a tough shrug-n-go at first, but digestible upon realizing the man lives in literal darkness every night. Lord knows the reason behind such crabby cantankerousness. Honestly, I should feel bad for the man.

Fast-forward to this morning and I’m feeling it in the wake of another brutal interlude. That piece of you that prefers some faith in humanity, it’s fading with the wind knocked out. Discouraged, I return to my pile of downed limbs and trampoline shrapnel. That’s when something remarkable happens. Only 15 minutes later, a stranger in a tan pickup pulls up to my driveway and asks if I need any help. Surprised, yet amused at the poetic symmetry of the moment, I welcome the assistance and process the intel. After recently moving from the upper Midwest, this younger gentleman, who wore the part through his swagger and 220-lb frame, confessed how he had been jonesing for a situation like this in which he could contribute mass relief. For the next 20 minutes, we hauled a healthy load, even swung on some stubborn maple and oak limbs, loosening them before their saw-off. Caeden as my witness, we had a grand time. Such serendipity, you couldn’t have timed it better.

As my new neighbor drove off, I couldn’t help but yearn for a healthy calibration of what I’d just experienced. A few years into our move, Lys and I took a similar approach to our neighbors around the holidays. We were intentional in our giving, made efforts to share goodness, especially in our December dealings; however, post-COVID/post-Juju, we started to slack off a bit, more cynical and protective in light of stranger times. Sometimes, you wish you could just go back before the drama and find a way to bypass it. Just one tweak there, and the whole trajectory changes. Less mess and way less fallout.

But sometimes, all you have to do is consider the script you wish was imminent without the mulligan and pray into the next steps. For me, the truth is, the type of gusto I show during planned storm chases and disaster relief meetings— when I set out not only to track nature’s worst but also to help people in the path — should not be confined to the planned, but even more so, the unplanned. After all, random acts of kindness aren’t just for outreach-friendly entities. They are for every man on call for any situation. ‘Tis the silver lining any time chaos and crisis come knocking at our door and/or the one next door.

So as I bid this day adieu, I’m taking in the daily narrative. Like a heartening State Farm ad, not only is my faith in ‘good neighbor’ restored, but my hope in being the type of person I want to be more consistently.

I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: The Lord knows exactly what we need, when we need it; hence, why we must adhere to the hope of glory we carry within so we can spark it within spontaneous generosity. We got this! Together, we will get there.

Selah.

Graphic cover creds: Dreamstime

Healing at Work: Why God Leads Us Through Desert Seasons

The other day, I was catching up with a former colleague when the following topic came up: Why does God lead us to places we don’t belong, places so far out of our giftings and comfort zones, they are practically impossible?

These are fair and popular questions during and after seasons of intense shaking and course-correcting. If we’re to start our exploration on the right foot, we must know who God is and how He journeys us. After all, God’s concern is not so much where we’re going as much as who we’re becoming. While man, in his lust for understanding, craves direction for his gain, be it clarity, validation, or something tangible, God is always after our hearts, relentlessly pursuing us in love (1 John 4:19). True to His Word, He never forsakes us and is always ready to help when we ask for it (Matthew 7:7; John 14:13-14).

So, if God is all this and more, why does He migrate us into deserts and wildernesses? Why does God sometimes open doors to places we’re hard-pressed to thrive, to be most effective?

As Jennie Allen suggests in her book, Untangle Your Emotions, when processing these questions, we must start with the right ‘W’. Often, we wonder why so we ask ‘why’, when really, we should be asking, ‘what’. For example, rather than ask God, ‘Why did you lead me here? Why did you let this happen? Why aren’t you manifesting’, inquire with, ‘God, what do you want me to know? What must I do to help this situation? What is it you want me to receive from you at the moment?’ While these are but a few examples, the mere shift in approach gives us a healthy starting point from which we can troubleshoot internal dissonance.

I believe for many of us, we’re searching not only for answers but stillness with a side of healing. Often, to what we hope for, we’re desperate for an improvement of circumstance, character, even health. The problem is while our reliance in the vertical is perpetually possible, the restoration we crave in the horizontal isn’t always plausible; hence, why we sometimes succumb to a ‘why’ question as we seek to bridge the disconnect. The good news is while this divide may hurt in the short term, it can have long-term, large-scale impacts given it validates our call to rely on God when we’re overwhelmed. Feeling down in your doubt? Cast it on Him! Sensing unfair treatment? Pray for peace-making discernment. Struggling to reconcile the past or advance in your way? Submit your intent to Christ knowing He desires to mature you according to His purposes.

Stumble as we may, our grooming for eternity doesn’t pause in the potholes of life but by His stripes can be enhanced in our weakness.

Accordingly, if you’re questioning God at a crucial intersection, if you’re struggling to arrive at peace, rest, forgiveness, whatever it may be, consider changing your ‘Why God’ into a ‘What God’ and watch what happens. Once your ‘what’ questions are in rhythm, marinate in the sweetness of God’s sanctification and strategize ways in which righteousness and holiness can cover your interactions with other people. Like ‘why’ questions, harboring offense and intentionally withholding good things (i.e. availability, a gentle critique/response, a listening ear, an effort to understand, etc.) will only cloud judgment and cap God’s love from flowing through us. Rather than quench the fires of tension or repair the damages of burnout, inquire what God wants to show you as you walk through it in humility. No need to panic or freak out; just leave it to the wrath and ways of God to straighten and enlighten. From there, all you have to do is breathe, release, and release again.

Ultimately, what compels us to journey through impossible places is God’s love filling in possible spaces – those spaces being our ‘deep’ (Psalm 42:7) desiring to know and grow in God within the world around us. As the Word attests, we were made to discover God; however, this cannot happen without the opportunity to trust Him in the desert, the wilderness, and all points in between. Remember God uses all things for good according to His perfect will purposed for those He loves (Romans 8:28). Core to our maturation as believers, we must learn to align faith and hope during adversity so any wresting against God can turn into wrestling with and for Him. Granted, this isn’t possible in our strength and requires daily sacrifice and surrender. But at the very least, we can respond to God’s pursuance and where He’s leading us, knowing we have nothing to lose and everything to gain in Christ Jesus following in His footsteps.

Cover graphic creds: Framework Recovery