Judging Food, Drink, Worship Styles?

“So let no one judge you in food or in drink, or regarding a festival or a new moon or Sabbaths,
which are a shadow of things to come, but the substance is of Christ.”

— Colossians 2:16–17

There was a time in my life when legalism had a tight grip on my heart.
As someone who is naturally performance-driven, it was all too easy to measure my worth—and my closeness to God—by what I did or didn’t do.

I remember hearing a sermon on this very passage from Colossians.
But instead of pointing to freedom, the speaker insisted that the “real meaning” was this: those who were truly walking closely with God would choose stricter practices—observing festivals, avoiding certain foods—and that no one should judge them for it.

It sounds spiritual.
But it’s not the gospel.

Legalism: The Cycle That Never Ends

Legalism is a subtle and suffocating kind of bondage.
It wraps itself in spiritual language and makes you believe that more rules equal more righteousness. That more effort equals more holiness.

But it’s a never-ending cycle.
Especially for those of us who are naturally wired to strive and achieve, legalism becomes an exhausting checklist of what we must do to earn God’s favor.

And here’s the truth: Jesus already did it all.

Christ Is the Substance

Paul wrote to the Colossians to remind them that the Old Testament rules and rituals—the food laws, the festivals, the Sabbath observances—were shadows pointing to something greater.

The substance is Christ.
And once the fullness has come, we no longer live in the shadow.

This doesn’t mean there’s no value in spiritual disciplines or traditions.
But it does mean that they are not the measuring stick of salvation or maturity.

We Must Guard Against “Moralizing Our Preferences”

As a counselor, I’ve seen this over and over again: we are tempted to moralize our preferences.

We say things like:

  • “Truly spiritual people only read the KJV.”

  • “If you’re really mature in the faith, you’ll follow the Old Testament dietary laws.”

  • “Worship should only sound one way—and if it doesn’t, it’s not reverent.”

But Paul is clear: these are not the things that define us as believers.
The Christian life is not built around food, drink, or worship style.
It’s built around a mindset—a heart set on Christ.

“Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth.”
— Colossians 3:2

When our minds and hearts are centered on Jesus, we begin to see things from His perspective.
We live and serve out of love—not legalism.
We offer grace—not judgment.
We prioritize presence—not performance.

What Unity in the Body Truly Looks Like

Within the family of God, there is diversity in practice.
And that’s okay.

As long as a believer is not violating Scripture or teaching heresy, we are called to embrace, not exclude.

“One Lord, one faith, one baptism…” (Ephesians 4:5)

We are made one by Christ—not by what’s on our plates, what translation we read, or which holidays we observe.

A Final Thought

If you’ve been caught in the trap of legalism—believing that more rules make you more holy—let this be your reminder:

Christ is the substance.
The work is finished.
You are free.

Live in that freedom.
Let your heart be anchored in love, not law.
And extend that same grace to others.

“Let no one judge you… for the substance is of Christ.”
— Colossians 2:16–17

Trials

“The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart,
And saves such as have a contrite spirit.”

— Psalm 34:18

There are stories in Scripture that are painful to read.
Stories that don’t wrap up neatly.
Stories that leave us longing for justice, for comfort, for healing.

Tamar’s story in 2 Samuel 13 is one of them.

She was the daughter of King David, a young woman of beauty and innocence. But she became the victim of a horrible deception and a terrible crime—raped by her half-brother Amnon, a man driven by obsession and enabled by poor counsel and unchecked desire.

Tamar begged for mercy.
She even offered Amnon a way forward that would have restored honor.
But he refused—and after the assault, he did what many abusers do: he cast her aside in shame and anger.

Scripture tells us that Tamar “lived in her brother Absalom’s house, desolate.”
Her father, David, though angry, did nothing.

Her pain was deep.
Her support was weak.
Her voice was silenced.
And the injustice led to long-standing bitterness and vengeance from her brother Absalom, who would later kill Amnon.

The Tragedy of a Desolate Life

Tamar’s story is heartbreaking.
Not only because of what happened to her—but because of what didn’t happen after.

No healing.
No restoration.
No voice.

Her grief is preserved in Scripture not as a passing detail, but as a sobering reminder of how sin shatters lives—and how silence and inaction compound the pain.

We don’t know how Tamar’s relationship with God unfolded.
Scripture doesn’t tell us whether she found comfort, hope, or peace.
But we know this: God saw her.

And He sees us, too.

When People Fail, God Remains

People hurt us.
They disappoint us.
They fail to protect, to defend, to acknowledge.

Sometimes we look around, like Tamar must have, and feel completely alone.

But we are not.

“The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart.”
— Psalm 34:18

God doesn’t abandon the brokenhearted.
He doesn’t look away from abuse.
He doesn’t minimize our pain.
He draws near.

And for the believer, that nearness isn’t just a comfort—it becomes a source of strength.

Trials Come, But So Does Joy

As painful as trials are, they hold the potential to transform us—not by the weight of the suffering, but by the grace that meets us in it.

“Count it all joy when you fall into various trials,
knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.”

— James 1:2–3

“You have been grieved by various trials,
that the genuineness of your faith… may be found to praise, honor, and glory
at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”

— 1 Peter 1:6–7

These trials—whether brought on by others’ sin or the brokenness of the world—are not wasted.

They are tools in the hands of a loving God who is shaping us, refining us, and conforming us to the image of Christ.

The Good That God Promises

Romans 8:28 is often quoted, but verse 29 holds the key:

“And we know that all things work together for good
to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.
For whom He foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son…”

The “good” is not always comfort or resolution.
The good is that we are being shaped to look more like Jesus.

Even through heartbreak.
Even through injustice.
Even through desolation.

A Final Word

Tamar’s story reminds us that pain is real—and not every story ends with earthly restoration.
But Scripture also reminds us that God is not done writing our story when we are hurting.

He draws near.
He sees.
He saves.

And He works, even through the ashes, to form something new.

So if you are walking through grief, injustice, or heartbreak—know this:

You are not alone.
God is close.
And He will not waste your pain.

A Quiet Faithfulness: What Jotham Teaches Us About Steadfast Living

“So Jotham became mighty, because he prepared his ways before the Lord his God.”
— 2 Chronicles 27:6

I love the Old Testament.
It’s rich with history, humanity, and truth that still reaches into our lives today. Though it was written thousands of years ago, it speaks into this very moment—right here, right now.

One of those voices that continues to speak, even quietly from the pages of Scripture, is King Jotham.

His story is found in 2 Chronicles 27, tucked into just a handful of verses. It’s easy to overlook. His reign wasn’t marked by great battles or dramatic stories. There are no grand failures or fiery confrontations. And yet—Jotham was faithful.

And that faithfulness matters.

Jotham: Faithful in a Corrupt Time

Jotham became king at the young age of 25 and reigned for 16 years in Jerusalem. Eleven of those years were spent as co-regent with his father, King Uzziah, who was struck with leprosy for disobeying God’s instructions regarding worship.

Unlike his father, Jotham honored the Lord. He didn’t overstep his role. He did what was right. And he remained steadfast even when the people around him did not.

“But still the people acted corruptly.”
— 2 Chronicles 27:2

Jotham’s personal righteousness didn’t immediately transform the culture.
But he stayed faithful anyway.

Isn’t that a powerful word for us today?

Faithfulness Is Not Always Flashy

Jotham may not have had the high drama of David or the miracles of Elijah, but he modeled something incredibly important: steadfastness.

He led with integrity.
He worked hard, rebuilding gates and cities, fortifying defenses, and caring for his nation.
He didn’t just believe—he lived out his belief.
And the Lord blessed him for it.

He didn’t let discouragement or disappointment with the people around him derail his obedience. He just… kept going.

Faith That Results in Faithfulness

James 2 reminds us that faith and works go hand in hand:

“Faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” (James 2:17)

Jotham’s story is a quiet but powerful example of that truth.
He didn’t just profess faith in God—he walked in it.
His faith produced action. His actions reflected commitment.

He was steady.
He was honorable.
And he finished well.

Steadfast in a Shifting World

In a world that often celebrates loud success, constant reinvention, and overnight change, Jotham reminds us that consistency is a virtue.

  • When others fall away, we can keep walking.

  • When the culture drifts, we can stand firm.

  • When our efforts feel unseen, we can trust that God sees.

“Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord,
knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.”

— 1 Corinthians 15:58

A Final Thought

You may never be famous for your faith.
Your name may not be remembered by the world.
But if you walk faithfully with God—if you finish well—you’ve done what matters most.

Just like Jotham.

So today, whether you’re in the middle of building something or simply holding your ground—press on.
Prepare your ways before the Lord.
Stay steady.
Stay rooted.

And remember: your labor is not in vain.

ADD Christians?

“If Jesus gives us a task or assigns us to a difficult season, every ounce of our experience is meant for our instruction and completion if only we’ll let Him finish the work. I fear, however, that we are so attention-deficit that we settle for bearable when beauty is just around the corner.
-Beth Moore”

Polygamy and False Teachers

“For certain men have crept in unnoticed, who long ago were marked out for this condemnation,
ungodly men, who turn the grace of our God into lewdness and deny the only Lord God and our Lord Jesus Christ.”

— Jude 4

Like many, I’ve been watching the news stories unfold about the fallout from the raid on the FLDS compound in Texas. The heartbreaking separation of mothers and children has stirred grief and confusion. People on all sides have passionate opinions about what should happen next.

But beyond the headlines, there’s a deeper question I find myself asking:
How did it get this far?

How did a group of people—many of them sincere, well-meaning individuals—become so profoundly deceived?

And then I remember…
God already told us this could happen.

“Certain Men Have Crept In…”

The book of Jude is just one chapter long, but it contains a powerful warning.

Jude 4 tells us that certain men have crept in unnoticed.
Not from the outside, but from within—those who profess Christianity but deny Christ by their actions and beliefs.
They twist the grace of God into a license for immorality.
They deny the unique deity and authority of Jesus.

If you’re familiar with the teachings of the FLDS (Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints), these words sound alarmingly familiar.

  • They claim to follow Christ, yet their doctrines elevate human men to would-be gods.

  • They require men to marry multiple women—often very young girls—as a condition for salvation.

  • They promise future godhood, their own planets, and power—ideas rooted in fantasy, not Scripture.

  • They promote a hierarchy where husbands determine the eternal fate of their wives, and their “prophet” decides who is worthy of heaven.

This is not the gospel.
This is not the way of Christ.
This is a tragic distortion of truth—exactly the kind of deception Jude warns us to recognize and resist.

Turning Grace into Lewdness

Jude 4 explicitly names this sin: turning the grace of God into lewdness.

The grace of God is meant to free us from sin—not to excuse it.

Yet here, entire doctrines have been built around granting men sexual access to young women under the guise of religion. It is disturbing. And it is not new.

“Likewise also these dreamers defile the flesh, reject authority, and speak evil of dignitaries.”
— Jude 8

False teachers throughout history have used their imagined visions, dreams, and “revelations” to control others, manipulate Scripture, and satisfy their own desires. The leaders of the FLDS do just that.

And Jude is clear: just as God did not spare the fallen angels, or the people of Sodom and Gomorrah, He will not spare those who twist His truth and defile His name.

What About Us? How Do We Stay Faithful?

It’s easy to point fingers. But the deeper question is this:
How do we make sure we don’t fall into deception ourselves?

Thankfully, Jude doesn’t leave us wondering.

“But you, beloved, building yourselves up on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Spirit,
keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.”

— Jude 20–21

Here’s what we’re called to do:

  • Build yourselves up on your faith—stay rooted in the truth of Scripture.

  • Pray in the Holy Spirit—stay connected to God in relationship, not just ritual.

  • Keep yourselves in the love of God—cling to the One who will never let you go.

  • Look for His mercy—because He’s coming back, and His judgment will be just.

And when we see others caught in deception?

“On some have compassion, making a distinction;
but others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire, hating even the garment defiled by the flesh.”

— Jude 22–23

We don’t just condemn.
We reach out.
We pray.
We stay anchored in truth and lead with love.

To the Only One Who Can Keep Us

False teaching is real.
Deception is powerful.
And none of us are immune to it.

But the final verses of Jude offer us this promise:

“Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling,
and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy…”

— Jude 24

God is able to keep us.
Even when the world is dark.
Even when others fall away.
Even when deception is disguised as truth.

A Final Thought

It’s heartbreaking to see how deeply people can be led astray—especially in the name of God. But it’s also a wake-up call for us as believers to stay grounded, vigilant, and full of grace.

We are called to:

  • Know the Word

  • Stay in the Spirit

  • Live in the love of Christ

  • And keep pointing others to the true Light of the world

False teachers will rise.
But Jesus reigns.
And He alone is wise.

“To God our Savior,
Who alone is wise,
Be glory and majesty, dominion and power,
Both now and forever. Amen.”

— Jude 25

Transformed by Truth

Renewing the Mind: Letting Go of Lies and Living in Truth
A reflection on spiritual freedom, emotional healing, and the power of Scripture

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…”
— Romans 12:2

Throughout Scripture, we are urged again and again to be mindful of our thoughts—to set our minds on what is true, noble, pure, and good (Philippians 4:8). To fix our eyes above (Colossians 3:2). To keep our minds stayed on the Lord, where perfect peace is found (Isaiah 26:3). And to allow our minds to be renewed—reshaped, restored, transformed.

Because what we believe—deep down, in the quiet conversations we have with ourselves—shapes everything.

And here’s the hard truth:
One of the greatest sources of emotional and spiritual struggle in our lives is believing lies.

We serve a God who is Truth—who leads us into truth, sets us free by truth, and renews us through truth.

But we also have an enemy.
Satan is called the deceiver. The accuser. The father of lies. And he knows that if he can distort our thinking, he can derail our healing, our peace, and our purpose.

His lies often sound reasonable. Familiar. Sometimes they even sound like our own voice.

Here are a few of the most common lies he whispers—and the truth that defeats them:

Lie #1: “I must be perfect.”

This lie feeds anxiety, self-condemnation, and the endless striving to be “enough.” But the truth is—we are not perfect. And we never will be on this side of eternity.

“Be holy, for I am holy.” (1 Peter 1:16) — yes, we are called to holiness,
but sanctification is a process, not a performance.

We will make mistakes. And God, in His mercy, is faithful to continue the good work He began in us—refining us day by day, not expecting perfection but desiring relationship.

Lie #2: “I must have everyone’s love and approval.”

This lie keeps us chained to people-pleasing and makes others’ opinions heavier than God’s truth.

“If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.” (Galatians 1:10)

God created us for connection, but His love and approval must always matter most.
Only He defines our worth.

Lie #3: “Things have to go my way for me to be happy.”

This one leads us to fixate on our circumstances instead of our Savior.

“I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content.” (Philippians 4:11)
“All things work together for good…” (Romans 8:28)

Happiness based on circumstances is fragile. But joy rooted in God’s love and purpose is enduring—even when nothing is going “our way.”

Lie #4: “Life should be easy.”

We may not say it out loud, but many of us live with this underlying expectation. And when life gets hard, we feel cheated.

“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

Hardship is part of the fallen world we live in. But we do not face it alone. God’s strength meets us in every struggle.

So how do we renew our minds and replace lies with truth?

1. We start with relationship.

Transformation doesn’t come through sheer willpower—it comes through connection with Christ. He is the Truth that sets us free.

2. We become students of our own thoughts.

Pay attention to your self-talk. Ask yourself:

  • Is this true?

  • Is this Biblical?

  • Is this helpful?

  • Would God speak to me this way?

3. We identify patterns of distorted thinking.

Some common distortions include:

  • All-or-nothing thinking (everything is either a total failure or a total success)

  • Fortune-telling (predicting negative outcomes)

  • Discounting the positive (ignoring what went well)

  • Emotional reasoning (believing something is true because it feels true)

  • Overgeneralizing (broad conclusions from a single event)

  • Personalization (assuming everything is your fault)

  • “Should” and “must” statements (rigid expectations that produce guilt and pressure)

4. We root ourselves in Scripture.

The more we know God’s Word, the more quickly we can spot the lies.

When we notice a lie surfacing, we search for the truth in God’s Word that contradicts it.
We memorize it.
Meditate on it.
Apply it—again and again.

This isn’t a one-time fix. Renewing our minds is a lifelong process—one that requires intention, grace, and a willingness to surrender the narratives we’ve held onto for too long.

But friend, there is freedom on the other side.

When we let God reshape our thoughts, everything begins to change—our emotions, our decisions, our relationships, and our peace.

“Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—His good, pleasing, and perfect will.”
(Romans 12:2)

This is how we learn to walk in freedom.
This is how we live with clear eyes and a quiet heart.

And this is how we are transformed.

God’s answer to stress (Especially for D)

Unpacking the Weight: Finding Peace in a Stress-Filled Life
A reflection on exhaustion, transformation, and the God who carries us through

You know, I’m just beginning to realize the toll the last few years have taken on me.

I didn’t fully see it at the time—the slow buildup of physical, emotional, and spiritual exhaustion. It crept in quietly as I poured myself into my work. First at a juvenile justice facility, then as the primary therapist for an adolescent intensive outpatient rehab. Both good jobs. Both worthwhile. Both heavy.

It’s been a little over two months since stepping into private practice, and for the first time in a long time, I’m starting to feel like myself again.


The Quiet Cost of Carrying Too Much

I think we all hit these seasons—the ones where we run hard, carry more than we realize, and only stop long enough to feel the weight when we finally set it down.

Now that I’ve had a little space to breathe (and time to reflect), I’ve started considering all of this from a Biblical point of view. And, as always, God’s Word speaks directly into it.

James 1:2–4 reminds us to “count it all joy when we face trials of various kinds.”
Not because the trials themselves feel good—but because they produce something good.

These difficulties are not wasted. They refine us. They transform us.
They shape us into the image of Christ.

Romans 8:28–29 echoes this: All things work together for good—not just for comfort, but for conformity—that we might be shaped more and more into Christlikeness. Sometimes that good is patience. Sometimes it’s endurance. Sometimes it’s simply learning to let go.

Just knowing God is in control and working things for good has helped ease some of the stress.
This is how Paul was able to persevere through suffering with peace and joy (2 Corinthians 4:16–18). He didn’t ignore the pain—he anchored himself in God’s promises.


The Rhythms of Jesus

Jesus Himself modeled a life that included intentional rest and time away.

He carved out moments for solitude.
He stepped away from the crowd.
He prayed often—not just to ask, but to align. To be with the Father.

Psalm 16:8–11 reminds us of what happens when we keep our eyes on God: we will not be shaken. His presence becomes our peace. And often, it’s not our situation that changes first—but our hearts.


Guarding Our Thoughts, Choosing Our Focus

Jesus told us not to let our hearts be troubled (John 14:27). But stress has a way of stealing our peace and focusing our thoughts on everything that’s going wrong.

Proverbs 4:23 reminds us to guard our hearts, because everything flows from them.

That means paying attention to our thoughts—bringing them under the authority of Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5). It means recognizing when our thinking spirals into fear, pessimism, or pressure, and gently redirecting our focus.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Psalm 90:12:
“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

That verse feels more real to me now than it ever has.
Lately, the phrase “major on the majors and minor on the minors” has been running through my head—sometimes at odd times (and no, for you therapists reading this, I’m not becoming obsessive, I promise!).

But I am becoming more deliberate.

I’m considering how I spend my time.
What I give my energy to.
What matters enough to carry—and what I can finally set down.


Cultivating Gratitude in the Middle of It All

One practice that’s helping me in this process is giving thanks.

1 Thessalonians 5:18 reminds us to “give thanks in all things.”
Not for all things—but in them.

There’s power in pausing to count what’s still good. To name what we’re thankful for even in seasons of stress or uncertainty. Gratitude doesn’t erase the hard things—it shifts our perspective so we can see the whole picture more clearly.


Learning Peace, One Day at a Time

I’m still learning how to live in this world—how to do meaningful work, carry real burdens, and still protect the inner peace God promises.

It’s not easy.
But it’s possible.
And it starts with small, deliberate choices:

  • To rest when needed.

  • To pray often.

  • To replace lies with truth.

  • To be present.

  • To give thanks.

  • To trust the One who holds all things together—even me.


A Final Thought

If you’ve been carrying more than you realized…
If you’re just starting to feel like yourself again…
If you’re trying to find peace in a world that pulls at your soul—
You’re not alone.

God isn’t asking you to be perfect.
He’s inviting you to walk with Him.
To breathe.
To rest.
To trust.

And He promises that in the midst of it all—He will be your peace.