Christian Community Is Not About Your Comfort

By / Feb 12

The desire for community often leads Christians astray because our picture is distorted. What does community look like? A Google image search for “community” returns the same image again and again: people standing in a circle, arms around each other, faces turned inward. Even adding “Christian community” doesn’t change much—only now some are praying.

Often, this becomes our perfect picture: find a group of friends, grow in depth, share life together… and never have to do it again. But a close circle quickly becomes a closed circle. This may be community, but it is not Christian community. One distinctive of Christian community is that it eagerly welcomes new people.

The Challenge of Christian Community

Jesus’ disciples knew what it meant to have a close circle. For three years they walked with Him, ministering side by side, building the kind of community most of us dream of. After His resurrection, they might have thought their group was safe again. But then Jesus said, “I’m leaving, and I want you to leave too. Go to the ends of the earth” (Matt. 28:18–20). The circle wasn’t meant to stay sealed; it was meant to break open.

The book of Acts describes this new reality: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer… Every day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved” (Acts 2:42, 47). Historian Rodney Stark observes that Christianity created a culture that offered, “to cities filled with newcomers and strangers…an immediate basis for attachments.”[1]

No longer a small, tight group—new people were added every day. That can sound exciting: revival, growth, answered prayers. But imagine if that happened in your church or small group. A group of 12 gains a new person on Monday, but by the end of the week, dynamics have shifted. It doesn’t even feel like the same group anymore.

This tension presses on every church. Do we really want the 40 million people who have stopped coming to church to return? Would we welcome them—not just through our doors, but into our lives? If this is our calling, a distinctive mark of Christian community, what can help us become this kind of people?

Remember God’s Heart

Paul exhorts, “Welcome one another, just as Christ also welcomed you, to the glory of God” (Rom. 15:7). God’s heart is not for an exclusive club. Jesus came “to seek and save the lost” (Luke 19:10). He has always been gathering a people to Himself, a Father eager to expand His family.

Think of parents who long to grow their family. When they learn of a new pregnancy, they rejoice, announce it, celebrate with gifts and photos. That desire and joy, multiplied infinitely, reflects God’s heart for adding people to His family—our neighbors, co-workers, cities, and families. The question for us is simple: Do I share God’s heart?

Remember How God Welcomed Us

Paul says:

Brothers and sisters, consider your calling: Not many were wise from a human perspective, not many powerful, not many of noble birth. Instead, God has chosen what is foolish in the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen what is weak in the world to shame the strong. God has chosen what is insignificant and despised in the world—what is viewed as nothing—to bring to nothing what is viewed as something, so that no one may boast in His presence. It is from Him that you are in Christ Jesus, who became wisdom from God for us—our righteousness, sanctification, and redemption (1 Cor. 1:26–30).

He’s saying, “I want you to think about how God saved you and let that affect how you relate with others.” So let’s consider some of the ways God has welcomed us.

  1. Without Distinction

I remember talking to someone once who said, “I know there must be something so awesome about me that Jesus would die for me.” It’s actually the reverse. There’s something so bad about us that Jesus had to die for us. The point isn’t to be impressed with ourselves that God would pick us—it’s to be impressed with God.

God didn’t welcome us based on our intelligence, success, or family pedigree. He welcomed the overlooked, weak, and ordinary. He welcomed people from broken families, poverty, or scandal. He welcomed sinners of every stripe.

This means we don’t unite with others because we are alike. We unite because we share one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one God and Father of all (Eph. 4:5–6).

  1. Deeply

God didn’t just forgive us; He adopts us. Paul says we are brothers and sisters and that we are “in Christ Jesus”.

He doesn’t just give you a second chance or wipe the slate clean; He brings us deeply into life with Him.

I tell our church all the time, “nobody is looking for a friendly church, but they are looking for friends.” If people want friendly, they can talk to the greeter at Walmart. We don’t just want to be friendly; we want to actually extend friendship.

That means inviting people into our lives: inviting people to your small group, meals after church, coffee on a Tuesday, playdates at the park, dinner, camping, etc. Think: when’s the last time you invited someone new into your life?

  1. Pursuit

God didn’t sit back and wait. He pursued us. The Spirit convicts not to condemn, but to draw us back. We have the same calling: to “pursue hospitality” (Rom. 12:13). Hospitality is not just hosting friends; it is the love of strangers. Pursuit requires intentionality, planning, and effort. It’s not optional or only for those “gifted with hospitality.” It’s a command and a continual pattern meant to shape our lives as a community. Are you actively pursuing others outside your circle?

Hard, but Beautiful

Open-circle community is beautiful, but not easy. Adding new people changes dynamics, complicates life, and challenges comfort and security. That’s why the epistles are filled with commands to be patient, make peace, love, forgive, and bear with one another. Welcoming others carries a cost—time, money, energy—but that cost reflects the gospel itself. Jesus bore the cost of welcoming us into God’s family. When we extend that welcome, we display His glory and reflect the good, gracious Father he is.

Let’s not let our desire for a perfect picture of community distract us from God’s heart. We are called to something distinct, reflecting not the images from sitcoms or stock photos, but the God who has welcomed each of us.

[1] Rodney Stark, The Rise of Christianity: A Sociologist Reconsiders History (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996), 161.



Love

By / Feb 11

In this special Valentine’s week episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz talk about love. We all want it. We all sometimes struggle to give it. But what is it? And how can we know we have it at all times?



Christ’s Call to Rest

By / Feb 10

Matthew 11:28–30 has become one of my favorite passages in Scripture. There is something in the tone of Jesus’ words that exposes my Pharisaical heart, and it might expose yours, too. It shows how easily we slip into a mindset where we live as if His favor could be earned through our human efforts. Over time, the faith we profess can become a heavy yoke that grows heavier. We start to treat our time in the Word, in prayer, and even our attendance at church as burdens rather than gifts meant to be enjoyed.

Believers were not created in Christ for this weariness, but to find rest—rest grounded in what God has given us through faith in Christ. In Him, we are justified, redeemed, and sanctified by His life, death, and resurrection—not by our efforts or fleeting human wisdom. Only Christ, and what He has accomplished on our behalf, grants us favor before God.

This rest is not the absence of a yoke, but an exchange of our heavy yoke for Christ’s light and easy yoke (v. 30). In this light yoke, we find the peace to live an abundant life in Christ—a life that rests in His sufficient work, His final work, and His everlasting work.

Rest in His Sufficient, Final, and Everlasting Work

Christ’s sacrifice at the cross is sufficient, meaning it is complete and nothing needs to be added (Heb. 10:12–14). This is good news for us. It proclaims that we do not earn God’s favor through our works, but that true rest flows from Christ’s finished work at the cross and His pierced hands for you and me.

Christ’s work is final (John 19:28–30). It does not need to be repeated for every sin. The curse of sin and death has been defeated once and for all (Heb. 9:26), and our souls can find rest in Christ’s victory, which is now ours.

Christ’s work at the cross is everlasting (Rom. 6:23); it will never change. Our redemption is permanently secured for all ages, so people from every nation, tribe, and tongue can come to Him in repentance and faith and receive the same salvation.

Christ’s sufficient, final, and everlasting work should shape how we approach our relationship with Him. Yet we are easily swayed to believe that His work and gift of salvation come with strings attached—that we must continue to earn His favor by our own efforts. This should not be so. We have been raised to an eternal hope (1 Pet. 1:3–5), given through faith in Christ (Eph. 2:8–9), and the Father delights to give us the joy of being part of His Kingdom (Luke 12:31–32).

Augustine’s words echo the rest Christ offers to us in Matthew 11:28–30: “Our hearts are restless till they find their rest in Thee.”[1] How fitting of Augustine to remind us that any fleeting moment, brief pleasure, or empty sense of achievement will never bring the rest our souls truly long for. Restlessness is a downward spiral we enter when we believe that our works can gain salvation. Yet God, who made us for Himself, was pleased to dwell in human form for our sake—for our true rest. Our sufficient, final, and everlasting rest is found in Christ and in Him alone, not in our strivings.

If you find yourself weary and heavy-laden, this is news of joy. Come to Christ. You don’t need to “fix” your life to be acceptable in His sight. Not even our greatest efforts can atone for our sins. Christ came to do that for us, even when we didn’t deserve it. His favor and grace remain wholly and securely in Him. Come to Him. Take up His yoke and learn from Him. Remember the work of Christ that leads you to His rest, where His yoke is easy, and His burden is light. A fruitful and flourishing Christian life stems from a heart that finds rest in the complete work of Christ.

Christ calls us to rest, not in our merit, but in His. Will you answer His call?

[1] Augustine, Confessions 1.1.1.



Seeds of Eternity: The Weight of Kids Ministry

By / Feb 5

A Calling You Can Blink Past

I’m not sure I’ll ever stop asking where I’m meant to go or what purpose I’m called to serve. Over the years, I’ve learned it’s best to view a calling as content-specific rather than location-specific. For me, it’s never been about the age group I teach, the city I live in, or the role I hold—it’s about serving others with Christlike compassion. Whether I’m working with children, adults, or immigrants, the core of my purpose remains the same: helping people feel welcomed, valued, and heard. This perspective has guided my choices in both life and work.

Today, I serve in kids ministry at my church. Cue the chaotic scene of energetic children—freeze frame: “Yep, that’s me. You’re probably wondering how I ended up here.” Though I had worked with children before, I never imagined stepping into this role. When I was first approached, I paused, unsure. Yet a gentle push inside me encouraged me to step in—and I was shaken when I realized the gravity of kids ministry and the misconceptions surrounding it.

By nature, I thrive with a clear, mission-oriented direction. Without it, I feel adrift. Stepping into this role granted me a deeper understanding of kids ministry and how calling relates to it: It is not merely childcare or programming—it is the future of the Church. It’s where discipleship begins, where seeds of faith are planted and nurtured. The work may seem small or unseen, but it carries eternal significance. It’s not just cute; it’s critical.

In reassessing kids ministry, it became clear that my mission is to further God’s Kingdom. That calling isn’t confined by location or age group, but kids ministry is one of the most potent places to live it out. In the quiet corners of the church, amid glue sticks and goldfish, eternal things are being formed. Yet if we fail to grasp the weight of this work, we may blink and miss it altogether.

Misconceptions About Kids Ministry

One major misconception is that kids ministry is “practice church.” These are real, eternal souls. Every moment is an opportunity to lead someone toward Christ. We equip them to withstand struggle, lean into hardship, and dig deep into God rather than the world. These aren’t just “kid problems.” They are life problems that start young and carry into adulthood. kids ministry is beautiful and weighty, playful and powerful. It’s not just preparing kids for the church of tomorrow; it’s building the church of today.

Another misconception is that you must start with a deep passion for kids. You need a passion for God’s Kingdom. Caring about its future naturally grows love for the children who embody it. Contrary to popular belief, not everyone is immediately “good with kids.” Skills develop through showing up, being present, and doing the work. Scripture is full of examples—Moses, Joseph, Peter, Paul—ordinary people called into extraordinary roles. We all have a head start: We were kids once! Skills and passions grow, and God meets us in that growth.

Our broader aim should be the Kingdom and its future. Too often we see only cuteness and miss the seriousness. kids ministry is a battleground for souls, where eternal seeds are planted.

The beauty of kids ministry is that it ministers back to us. Breaking things down to a child’s level, answering questions, and watching understanding grow are glimpses of God’s transforming power. Even the mundane carries purpose. As the old Greek quote says, “A society becomes great when old men plant trees in whose shade they know they will never sit.” That’s kids ministry. We may never see the full fruit, but that’s not the point. It’s about Jesus.

Don’t let fear or discomfort hold you back. Step into His Kingdom and trust He will use it for His greater purpose. When you care for God’s Kingdom, you care for its future. And these kids are part of that future. Love for them flows naturally from love for Christ’s mission. The bigger picture has always been His Kingdom, and He invites us to help build it, one child at a time. Let’s not blink and miss it.

 



Suffering

By / Feb 4

It’s a sad consequence of the fall and the brokenness of the world: suffering. In this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz reflect on the problem — and the promise — of suffering in the Christian life.



Jesus Loves the Self-Righteous Sinner

By / Feb 3

For years, I believed Jesus reserved His loving kindness for the obviously broken: the prodigals, the tax collectors, the sinners who knew they were lost. But then I read Mark 10.

In Mark 10, the rich young ruler comes to Jesus sincerely, respectfully, and with remarkable confidence in his own obedience. “All these [laws] I have kept from my youth,” he says. It’s a striking moment of self-righteousness.

And right after the man lays out what he believes is his impeccable spiritual résumé, Mark makes a comment that reshaped my entire view of grace: “And Jesus, looking at him, loved him” (Mark 10:21).

Jesus loved him.

I didn’t have a category for Jesus’ heart beating tenderly for a man who believed he could keep the law. But there it was, right in the text. Jesus loved him—the self-righteous and spiritually self-deceived.

Most of us are comfortable with a Jesus who loves the prodigal, but less comfortable with one who loves the self-righteous. Yet if we let Scripture shape our understanding of Christ’s love, we see that Jesus is not only kind to the hurting but also to the proud. Consider Luke 15. In one of Jesus’ most famous stories, a father runs to embrace his rebellious son after he returns broken and ruined by sin. But that’s not where the story ends. The older brother—the hard-working, well-behaved son—refuses to join in the celebration of his lost brother now found, resentful and convinced of his own moral superiority.

How does the father respond? He doesn’t scold or belittle. He entreats: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (v. 31).

It’s a moving scene that communicates a gospel truth: our Heavenly Father does not love one kind of sinner more than another. He loves both sons, pursuing them equally. One needs to be brought home from a faraway country, the other from his own self-righteousness. Both are lost, but both are loved.

When you put Mark 10 and Luke 15 together, you begin to see that Jesus is not repelled by the self-righteous. The rich young ruler walks away sorrowful, but not because Jesus withheld His love. The older brother remains outside the feast, but not for lack of invitation. And this brings a needed word for the church today.

Some of us feel remarkably free to judge the self-righteous. We spot their faults easily but fail to recognize the same impulses in ourselves. We talk about “older brothers” with casual disdain, as if their sin places them beyond grace. But Jesus doesn’t treat them that way. He doesn’t despise self-righteous sinners; He seeks them. He looks at them—and loves them.

If that describes you—if your confidence has been in your own obedience, your own righteousness, your own moral effort—hear this clearly: You are in sin, but Jesus loves you. He is gently and lovingly inviting you to join the great celebration of grace. Will you join the party, or stand outside in a huff? Will you receive grace, or walk away sad?

Jesus does not love the rebel more than the rule-keeper. He loves them both—and He invites all to come home and join the feast.



Doctoral Studies and the First Commandment

By / Feb 2

Editor’s note: Midwestern Seminary is highlighting doctoral studies this February, and this article offers an encouraging look at the rigor, heart, and faithfulness such work requires.

Doctoral studies is a journey, one which only a small percentage of the world completes. In America alone, census data shows that only 2% of the country holds a doctorate degree.[1] By the numbers, it is hard to complete a doctorate. Most people do not have the time, smarts, or resources to get it done. Having said that, I regularly speak with Midwestern Seminary doctoral students at the beginning of their journey, and I encourage them to squeeze themselves into that 2% of the population. Here’s how I encourage them from Matthew 22.

Love the Lord Your God with All Your Mind.

The Midwestern Seminary doctoral program is explicitly for the Church. We want all our graduates to angle their studies and formation for the benefit of Bob and Sue in the fifth row on Sunday morning. Naturally, this vision for doctoral studies attracts leaders who are already serving in ministerial roles. But that comes with a challenge. If you are not careful, you will arrive at your first seminar with a paper in hand that sounds more like a sermon than an essay. Doctoral work requires a mental gear shift. Students must learn to marshal arguments rather than make assertions, use reason over rhetoric, and learn to cite 16th century sources, not merely 21st century sages. This kind of shift requires time, effort, and renewed focus.

Doctoral work requires love for God with one’s mind. It will require deeper thinking, broader thinking, and more creative thinking than previously imagined. You must explore, be challenged, and wrestle with the truth. You might leave with a broken hip, but you will be blessed. Your new scholarly eye for truth and detail will enrich your church later, but it requires mental wrestling now.

Love the Lord Your God with All Your Heart.

Imposter syndrome is a real thing. Every new doctoral student feels it, every new graduate feels it, and even old scholars feel it. The truth is, we are all imposters at some level. It does no good to claim, “I’m not an imposter, now let me go prove it.” No, the pursuit of scholarship—by necessity—is a venture into thoughts unknown that we might acquire more of the truth.

Settle it in your heart to make scholarship about the pursuit of truth, not proving yourself. When pursued in a spirit of self-justification, your heart is in the wrong place. This warped spirit stunts love of God and promotes love of self. Even the language of “defending your thesis” can set you up for failure. Your chief aim when writing and presenting papers is to grow. If you present a good paper—praise God, it grew you! If you present a paper that gets torn to shreds—praise God, it grew you! Win-win.

Learn to love God first with your heart. In so doing, you will be well-positioned to receive critiques of your work. You will welcome it, for that critique is helping you contend for the truth once for all delivered to the saints.

Love the Lord Your God with All Your Soul.

Simply put, you will not finish a doctoral degree unless you put your soul in it. Your time, your sweat, your tears, your sleep—they will all be thrown into the refining fire. You will question your abilities. You will sacrifice your comforts. You will defer other noble pursuits. Because of such losses, you will want to quit multiple times over. Settle it in your soul: I will not quit.

This commitment requires a team of people around you—your spouse first and foremost. Your spouse must embrace the struggle with you. Your co-workers must know the sacrifices you are making. Your church must stand ready to pray for you. Your kids must know that your work is worth it. When you are questioning your decisions, these co-laborers need to preach to you, “Over my dead body, you will not quit.”

The truth is: you do not need a top 2% IQ score to earn a doctorate. You just have to be in the top 2% of perseverance. I compare it to Major League Baseball. Though hitting a major league pitch is considered the hardest skill in sports (much like the challenge of marshaling a clear, cogent, and convincing argument), it is not even the hardest part of MLB baseball. The hardest part is managing your own failure and enduring anyway. MLB hitters fail at the plate three-quarters of the time for a 162-game season spread out over six months. That is grueling. Like an MLB hitter, doctoral students need unwavering resolve. Will you keep going back for more? Can you keep your head in it? Can your body, your mind, and your very soul endure the slow erosion of pride?

The answer is “yes” if you love the Lord your God first with all your soul. He is the reward and the reason for your work. Put your soul into your studies as an act of suffering sacrifice for his kingdom. If you can love the Lord your God above all else, you will earn a great reward far greater than three more initials behind your name.

[1] https://www.census.gov/data/tables/2022/demo/educational-attainment/cps-detailed-tables.html



Passing on a Heart for God’s Global Glory

By / Jan 29

Over twenty years ago, I read Let the Nations Be Glad, and something awakened in me. The beauty of God’s glory going forth among the nations captured my heart. I was gripped by the wonder of the gospel advancing to every tribe and tongue.

Over time, that passion faded quietly into the background—buried beneath the good work of life: serving in the church, raising six children, doing the next faithful thing.

Recently, I reread that missions classic, and it stirred something I hadn’t realized had faded: a joyful, wide-eyed awe at God’s redemptive plan unfolding across the globe. It reawakened a part of me that had once burned brightly but had grown quiet.

As I reflected on how far I’d drifted, I began praying—praying that God would reignite my passion and shape my children’s desires too. I want them to be thrilled that God is saving souls all over the world—and even be eager to join His global mission, however He leads.

With this renewed excitement, here are four simple ways we’re seeking to pass on a heart for God’s global glory.

Four Ways to Pass on a Heart for Missions

1. Wow Your Kids with the Vision

Our God is worthy of worship from every tribe, tongue, and nation. Missions begins not with strategies, but with wonder: “All the nations you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord, and shall glorify your name” (Ps. 86:9).

Help your kids see the big picture. Trace the storyline. Let them feel the weight and wonder of what God is doing—and where history is headed. Explore missions together in practical ways: learn about churches around the world, find out where unreached people groups live, talk about places where Christianity is illegal, and read stories of faithful missionaries and martyrs. Leave inspiring resources around your home for them to encounter.

2. Make Missions Personal

Missions becomes most real when it has a name and a face. Get to know the missionaries your church supports. Read their updates, watch their videos, and share their stories over dinner.

When your kids see that missions matters to you, it begins to matter to them. Help them understand that missions isn’t only for a select few—every Christian is called to join what God is doing.

3. Pray with a Global Focus

Make space in your family’s prayer life for the world. Pray for missionaries by name. Intercede for unreached people groups. Remember the persecuted church.

You might set aside one night a week for focused prayer or weave these requests into your regular rhythms. A prayer guide or missionary update sheet can give children something tangible to use in their own time with the Lord.

And don’t forget to pray for your own family. Let your kids hear you asking God to make your home more captivated by Christ than by the world, and to help you be ready to serve anywhere for the sake of the gospel.

4. Give Joyfully and Generously

We spend money on what we value. If missions matters, and you want your kids to see that it matters, show it through the way you give.

Bring your kids into the process. Talk about who you support and why. Let them hear you say no to certain purchases because you chose to give instead.

Share your joy in seeing God’s Kingdom advance—even when it requires sacrifice.

A Family That Longs for His Glory

Few things matter more than helping ourselves—and our children—rise above the noise of daily life to see God’s eternal work unfolding across the world. And few things are more exciting.

Praise God that it’s never too late to be more wrapped up in His global cause. But let’s do more than admire the vision; let’s be shaped by it. May our hearts, homes, and habits center on the greatness of God and His global glory.

Let’s pass on not just awareness, but awe. Not just information, but worship. Let’s raise kids who rejoice that the good news is reaching the nations and who long to be part of this great work.



Grab Bag!

By / Jan 28

It’s the return of the Grab Bag! Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz come with surprise questions for each other. You never know what you’ll hear when the guys are put on the spot.



A Theology of Body Image: Stewarding the Body God Gave Me

By / Jan 27

I worked out today for the first time in four years. Yes, you read that right—four years. I’ve walked and done a few small things along the way, but today was the first time I stepped foot in a gym. As a former college athlete, my life used to revolve around getting faster, stronger, and better. Now, it revolves around the needs of others, which is the main reason I haven’t been to the gym in so long.

This gym, like many, has mirrors. I understand what they’re for, but I hesitate to look at myself. I don’t want a view of fat spilling over my sports bra, the new lumps and bumps that weren’t there before having kids, or my legs shaking after a few squats. The last view I saw in this mirror was of a newly retired college athlete with no children and a lot of free time—no stretch marks, no cellulite, no double chin.

Four years and three children later, I turn my back to the mirror so I don’t have to watch a body unfamiliar to me struggle to do things I’ve always done. If I thanked my body for its work in bearing children, would that make me feel better? If I practiced the self-love people rave about, would the sight of myself in the mirror no longer sadden me? Compliments and “You’re doing great!” plastered on cellulite won’t make me hate it less. Thinking or convincing my way out of poor body image is behavior modification, and it offers little long-term hope.

But I am a Christian. I believe God’s Word is true. Every worldly idea about how I should feel about my body—positive or negative—comes under His scrutiny. Here are four foundational points to start building a theology of body image.

  1. God Owns Our Bodies (1 Cor. 6:19–20; Ps. 100:3).

God did not create us and then leave us to our own devices. He created us and therefore owns our bodies. Whatever we do with them is subject to His judgment and His Word. My body has value simply because it belongs to the Lord.

  1. Our Bodies Are for God’s Glory (1 Cor. 6:20)

Because God owns our bodies, we should use them for His glory. Whether fighting temptation or viewing our bodies as vessels for His purposes, all we do should honor Him, not ourselves. My body image struggles often stem from self-glorification. When I look in the mirror, I focus on looking like I’ve never had a baby, not on glorifying God. I want toned arms because I want to enjoy the way I look in tank tops, not because I want to lift my children with greater ease. My desires are rooted in beauty standards, not in honoring Christ.

  1. Our Outward Appearance Should Reflect the Heart (1 Tim. 4:8; 1 Pet. 3:3–4).

If I managed to get washboard abs, you could guarantee that would come at the expense of the duties God has given me to prioritize. The reason I don’t have a perfect stomach is partially because of genetics and mostly because of the lack of time spent pursuing that physique. My outward appearance bears the mark of childbearing, eating in fellowship with friends, and time spent studying Scripture and caring for my home. There’s nothing wrong with having washboard abs. For me personally, though, that wouldn’t be the best use of my time given what God has placed before me. Physical fitness has benefits, but godliness is profitable for all things. Pursuing the Lord through what He has entrusted to me is far more valuable than perfect abs. My outward appearance is far less important than my heart. My outward appearance is so much less important than my heart. Nitpicking my body shows where I’ve neglected adorning my heart with the gospel. Worrying about arm fat reveals a heart far from cultivating a gentle and quiet spirit (1 Pet. 3:1–3).

  1. This Body Is Marred by a Broken World, but One Day It Will Be Restored (Phil. 3:21).

We struggle with body image because our world—and our bodies—are fallen. Eve likely never had stretch marks in the perfection of the Garden. Our body image can point us toward our true longing: a world no longer distorted by misplaced desires and sin-cursed bodies. What we really want when we look in the mirror likely cannot be attained in this lifetime. No matter how fit we become, we can never stop our bodies from aging. One day, we will return to the dust (Gen. 3:19), but even this is not the end for us! Our bodies will still matter in eternity when we are resurrected to a glorious and perfect body. Even when our bodies fail us, more than jiggly thighs and the “mom pooch,” Christ gives us a future hope that is secure. We will have our glorified body for far longer than we have this broken one now.

Because of these truths, I don’t have to focus on my body’s appearance, what it can or cannot do, or how much space I take up. When I see my imperfect reflection, I can think of the ways God has called me to use my body. I can thank Him for a vessel that does His will. I can look forward to a perfect body that will worship Him fully in Heaven. A biblical view of my body moves me from slavery to an idealized appearance to freedom to enjoy and steward the body I actually have. By seeing my body rightly, I have the opportunity for self-forgetfulness and to exalt Christ with a body that was once my enemy.