It’s Holy Week…

After Palm Sunday, Jesus entered Jerusalem, went straight to the temple, drove out the moneychangers, healed the blind and the lame, endured the criticism of the religious leaders—and then He left, heading toward Bethany.

Along the way, we encounter one of the more unsettling stories in the Gospels: Jesus approaches a fig tree and curses it when He finds no fruit. At first glance, it feels out of place—almost harsh—unless we remember what the fig tree represented.

For generations, the fig tree had been a symbol of peace and prosperity. Its fruit was valued not only for nourishment, but also for healing. To see a fig tree full of leaves was to expect life, sustenance, and wholeness.

In that light, the fig tree comes to represent God’s people—Israel in particular, but all who claim to know God in general. And if that is true, then the fruit we bear should offer healing and nourishment to others. Trees do not consume their own fruit, nor do they sit in their own shade. What they produce is always for the sake of someone else.

This story invites us to reflect on God’s desire for our lives: that we would be fruitful, that we would help fill the earth with God’s love and peace—that we would be emissaries of healing and hope, ambassadors of God’s joy.

It also calls us to consider the tragedy of remaining fruitless despite having received so much—the richness of God’s mercy, God’s goodness and faithfulness, even God’s provision and protection.

In the morning, as he was returning to the city, he became hungry. And seeing a fig tree by the wayside, he went to it and found nothing on it but only leaves. And he said to it, “May no fruit ever come from you again!” And the fig tree withered at once.
Matthew 21:18–19

Considering the grace that God has lavished upon us, it is not unreasonable to expect that we might embody that grace—with deep gratitude and intentional generosity—toward those we encounter along the way.

Someone is hungry.
Someone is thirsty.
Someone is lonely.
Someone is in despair.

Someone will pass our way today.

How might we be a blessing to them—and, in doing so, honor God? There is no guarantee that we will be given tomorrow what we have been given today.

Be a blessing… today.

Good morning. I love you all.

ihs,
just adam

It’s Holy Week.

Yesterday was Palm Sunday, when we celebrated Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. With throngs going before Him and following behind Him, the people worshiped and praised God.

As He entered the city, Jesus made a beeline for the temple.

And there—His first encounter—were the moneychangers and those selling sacrifices to would‑be worshipers.

Jesus flipped the tables.

He upended their economy.
He disrupted their dealings.
He exposed a system that had turned worship into a transaction rather than an occasion for transformation.

Jesus flipped the tables—driving out those whose theology had been corrupted by thievery; those who exchanged God’s glory for material gain; those whose god was their belly, who glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things (Philippians 3:19).

We like this Jesus, don’t we?

The Jesus who enters the temple.
The Jesus who flips the tables.

He may not be quite what we expect from the One we call the Prince of Peace—but we like that Jesus… until it’s our table being flipped.

You see, there is no peace where lies—even the subtlest deceptions—are allowed to set up shop and conduct business as usual. So Jesus turns over the tables in the temple.

And according to Scripture, we are temples of the LORD—yes?

So then, what tables need to be flipped in our hearts?
What strongholds need to be torn down?
What idols need to be exposed and expelled?

Yes, Jesus is indeed the Prince of Peace—but His peace is no easy peace. It is the only true and enduring peace, and it begins—always—grounded in Truth and tough Love.

“And Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple, and He overturned the tables of the money‑changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons.”
Matthew 21:12

Good morning. I love you all.

ihs,
just adam

Since God is with us—everywhere—we can have confidence regardless of the circumstances.

There is no place we can go where God is not.

This is a comfort, but for me, it also comes with conviction.

There is no place we can go where God is not.

When stress causes me to feel like God has forgotten me,

when anxiety compels me to worry,

When temptation presses me to hide my face,

I remember.

There is no place we can go where God is not.

This is comfort—sometimes conviction—but ultimately a reminder that I am connected.

There is no place we can go where God is not.

In strength or in weakness, in success or in failure—whether up, down, sideways, or backwards—God is present—grace is present.

There is no place we can go where God is not.

This grace challenges and convicts, comforts and chastens, consoles and checks us.

This grace calls us and comes after us relentlessly—and this is Good News!

The Psalm writer says it like this…

⁴ For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether.

⁵ Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me.

⁶ Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it.

⁷ Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence?

⁸ If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.

⁹ If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;

¹⁰ Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.

¹¹ If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me.

¹² Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.

Psalm 139:4-12

Say it with me:

“There is no place I can go where God is not.”

Good morning. I love you all.

ihs,

just adam

Did you know that much of what we, as Christians, cherish as Scripture in the New Testament was written by the Apostle Paul while he was imprisoned—under house arrest?

Let that sink in.

Some of the most encouraging and hope-filled words we quote so easily were penned by someone living under restriction, sacrifice, and persecution. Paul did not write from a place of comfort or ease, but from confinement.

Philippians is often called the epistle of joy. It’s the letter that gives us those familiar, strengthening words:

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)

Paul’s life reminds us of something essential: our faith in Christ determines our disposition—not our circumstances. His joy wasn’t rooted in freedom, success, or favorable conditions. It was grounded in Christ.

Paul shows us that even when life is far from ideal, confidence in Jesus allows us to preserve our integrity and protect our peace. When we acknowledge Christ’s presence and trust God’s sovereignty, we can remain resilient and hopeful. With the Spirit comforting us, we can stay confident—even in crushing circumstances.

And because of that, we can be faithful witnesses wherever we are. No matter what’s going on. No matter who’s around us. Even in difficult seasons, God can use us to have an unexpected influence and a positive impact.

Listen to how Paul viewed his own situation:

“I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ.”
Philippians 1:12–13

Paul understood something powerful: Jesus was with him. The Spirit was at work. God’s providence had not paused because of prison walls.

Christ was present—everywhere he went.

May we carry that same awareness today. Wherever we find ourselves, may we trust that God is still working, still strengthening, and still using us for His glory.

Good Morning, I love you all!

ihs,

just adam

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve had to be more careful about what I eat and drink. Certain foods—though I really like them—don’t agree with me the way they used to. In some cases, they make me feel downright sick.

You’d think I would heed wisdom and avoid those things. But more than once, stubbornness has gotten the best of me, and I’ve paid for it. The days that follow usually require lots of water and a determined effort to flush that mess out of my system before I start feeling better.

The funny thing is, I know I’m not alone in this. Most of us have learned—at some point—that certain things aren’t good for us, yet we refuse to let them go. We fall into a familiar cycle: restraint, lapse, then detox… restraint, lapse, detox. And all the while, we keep making ourselves sick because of a lack of discipline.

Repentance is a lot like a spiritual detox. And like any detox, it comes with discomfort—grief, guilt, sorrow, and pain. Repentance and faith do work. They grant us grace—the grace to get up and try again. Thank God for grace! But at some point, we ought to begin learning to do better.

And doing better requires something deeper than behavior modification. It requires an inner transformation—a change in our hearts and minds that begins to reshape our actions, attitudes, and outlook. Get it?

It’s not enough to diet, to abstain, or to set physical limits on ourselves—though those things may work for a season. Lasting transformation comes from an inner change, a yielding of our hearts and minds to the will of God. We need to get clean on the inside.

• Getting clean on the inside means unseating anything—or anyone—that has taken up residence on the throne of our hearts and undermines our relationship with God and our spiritual well-being.
• Getting clean on the inside means decluttering our hearts and minds, turning down the noise, and creating space to hear the voice of the Spirit more clearly.
• Getting clean on the inside means allowing God to cleanse us through the washing of the Word (John 17:17).
• Getting clean on the inside means receiving a spiritual, mental, and emotional detox from the things that make our souls sick, steal our joy, or disrupt our peace.

Paul put it this way:

And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.

Romans 12:2

Are you ready to get clean on the inside?

Good Morning, I love you all!

ihs,

just adam

When I was growing up, my mother had high standards for what clean meant. Housecleaning wasn’t just about appearances. It meant washing walls and baseboards, and scraping gunk out of the windowsills with a butter knife. The smell of Clorox wafting through the air was the scent du jour. By the time I went into the Army, I was well prepared for inspection—because Sarah Nell could give any drill sergeant a run for his money.

From my mother, I learned that looking neat is not the same as being clean. Appearing to have things in order is not the same as being clean. By her standards, it wasn’t enough for something to look clean—it needed to feel clean and smell clean, through and through.

In my mother’s world, there was no shoving things under beds or stuffing them into closets. Nothing was pushed out of sight. She was meticulous about keeping a clean house.

Oh, that we would take such care when considering the contents of our hearts and minds.

Politeness is no replacement for a pure heart. Courtesy is no cover for corrupt intentions. Gentility is a poor substitute for genuine grace and generosity. And no amount of religiosity can reckon with our need for a real and right relationship with God.

Doing what appears to be right is not always the same as doing what is actually right. Doing the right thing must include right intentions and right timing.

Jesus said it like this:

“Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.
Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.

Matthew 23:26-28

Lord, grant us clean hands and pure hearts!

Good Morning, I love you all!

ihs,

just adam

There are moments when circumstances squeeze us into tight places—spaces where our integrity is tested. I wish I could say I always pass with shining colors, but that wouldn’t be true.

Still, it’s good to remember that our character is not defined by a single moment. It is graciously carved over time—through trials, through trips, and yes, through triumphs.

When we’ve been with Jesus, there is grief when we fall short, gladness when we rise to meet the challenge faithfully, and grace no matter what.

Peter, perhaps, understood this better than most. But if we’re honest, all of us have moments that are far from stellar.

Thank God the grace we encounter when we have been with Jesus is persistent—somehow always right there when we need it most. Grace comes after us. Yes, there is conviction. Yes, there is correction. But there is always comfort, too.

During the trial of Jesus, Peter tried to conceal his identity. Yet even in denial, Christ’s presence could not be hidden…

“But a certain maid beheld him as he sat by the fire, and earnestly looked upon him, and said, This man was also with Him. And he denied Him, saying, Woman, I know Him not.”
Luke 22:56–57

When we’ve been with Jesus, there is something about us—something that refuses to stay hidden.

Have you been with Jesus?

Stop trying to hide it. Those who have been with Him cannot prevent His grace from breaking through—even through the cracks created by our own failures. Even our weaknesses bear witness to the sufficiency of His grace.

Stop hiding. Accept your sacred identity. Get up from where you’ve stumbled, and get going.

Have you been with Jesus?

I don’t care where you’ve been or what you’ve done. Get up. Get going. Grace is coming after you.

Good morning. I love you all.

ihs,
just adam

When I woke up this morning, I rose with a question resting in my heart. I found myself retracing the landscape of my life—remembering those who encouraged me, challenged me, and helped shape who I am today. Thank God for so many faithful witnesses.

So let me ask you:

Who taught you about Jesus?

I’ve come to realize that who taught us about Jesus has a great deal to do with what we know about Him—what we believe about Him—and whether or not we choose to follow Him at all.

Listen.

The greatest evangelists in Scripture are not those who merely studied the Messiah, but those who encountered Him for themselves and then went about telling the story of what they experienced.

We tend to give the most weight to those with education, credentials, or polished abilities. But I want to suggest to you—like Jesus said to Martha—“one thing is needful.”

Have you been with Jesus?

Have you witnessed for yourself His grace and His power?
Has He changed your life?
Did He heal you?
Did He pick you up when you were down?
Did He deliver you?
Did He comfort you—keep you—when you couldn’t keep yourself?

Have you been with Jesus?

You all know that I’m inclined to study, and I believe study is an act of obedience to the command to love God with all our heart, our mind, and our strength. But life has taught me this:

Talking about Jesus is not the same as talking to Jesus.
Reading Scripture is not the same as sitting under a text and allowing it to read you.
Learning someone else’s story is not the same as telling your own.

Sadly, many of us learned about Jesus from people who barely knew Him—or didn’t know Him at all. And I wonder how much that has distorted our view of who He really is.

So I’ll ask again:

Have you been with Jesus?

Remember that story.
Rejoice in your story.
Repeat your story.

Tell it—and watch how it resonates with those God places in your path.

The greatest evangelists in Scripture were not the scholars or the scribes, but ordinary people just like you and me who met a Man who was God in the flesh.

Have you been with Jesus?

Tell your story.

“The woman then left her waterpot, and went her way into the city, and saith to the men,
Come, see a man, which told me all things that ever I did: is not this the Christ?
Then they went out of the city, and came unto him.”
John 4:28–30

Good morning. I love you all.

ihs,
just adam