Beloved, no matter what season you are in, remember — our God never fails. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). The pain may be deep, the road may seem dry, but God is still working behind the scenes.
He says in Isaiah 43:19, “Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall you not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” That means even when it feels impossible, God specializes in impossibilities.
When Joseph was thrown into the pit, it seemed like the end — but it was only the beginning of his lifting. When Sarah thought her womb was dead, God turned barrenness into laughter (Genesis 21:6). And when all hope seemed lost, Jesus showed up after three days — proving that delay is not denial.
So, hold on to your faith! The same God who opened the Red Sea will open a path for you. The same God who turned mourning into dancing for David will restore your joy again.
🎵 “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5)
Let hope rise in your heart. Dry bones shall live again. The lost laughter will return. The broken heart will heal. The heavy burden will lift.
Keep trusting, keep believing — because your desert will soon blossom, your tears will turn to testimonies, and your waiting will not be wasted.
There are questions that pierce the soul deeper than a sword. They are not asked to obtain information, but to expose the true condition of the heart. One of such divine questions came from the lips of the resurrected Christ to His disciple, Simon Peter — “Lovest thou me more than these?”
This was not an ordinary question. It was a sincere assessment of devotion, a test of commitment, and a measure of consecration. Jesus was not asking Peter to prove His ability to preach, to perform miracles, or to lead others. He was asking the fundamental question of all Christian service — “Do you love Me above all else?”
A QUESTION AFTER FAILURE
Peter had walked with Jesus for years. He had listened to His teachings, witnessed His miracles, and even declared boldly, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Yet, when the heat of persecution arose, Peter denied the Master three times. And even after the resurrection, instead of waiting on divine instruction, Peter returned to his old profession — “I go a fishing.”
That single decision spoke volumes. It revealed the subtle power of distraction — that the cares of this life can tempt even the most devoted hearts to drift. After years of ministry, prayer, and miracles, Peter’s conviction was tested by comfort, familiarity, and discouragement.
So Jesus came with a question — not of condemnation, but of restoration. A question that penetrated through layers of guilt, failure, and fatigue: “Simon, lovest thou me more than these?”
THESE — WHAT ARE THEY?
“These” could mean many things — the fishing nets, the boat, the friends, the business, the success, or even the old life Peter once knew. Whatever “these” represented, Jesus was essentially asking:
“Do you love Me more than your comfort, your achievements, your ambitions, your possessions, and your own will?”
The same question echoes through time and reaches us today.
LET’S TALK ABOUT YOU
Once, you were on fire for the Lord. You loved His presence, sang with tears, prayed with passion, and served with joy. You influenced others to love Jesus, to evangelize, to live holy, and to walk in faith. But where are you now?
The zeal is gone. The altar is cold. The joy of salvation seems distant. The same lips that once sang “I surrender all” now say “I’m too busy.” The same heart that once burned with passion for the lost now burns for worldly pursuits.
Jesus is still asking, “Lovest thou Me more than these?” More than your job? More than your phone? More than your comfort and friends? More than the pleasures and treasures of this world?
A CALL BACK TO LOVE
True love for Christ is not measured by words, but by sacrifice. It is proven when we choose Him above everything else. Peter wept when he heard that question, and from that day forward, he never looked back. He became a pillar of the early church — a man transformed by love and consecration.
The same grace that restored Peter is reaching out to you today. Jesus is not angry with you; He is calling you back. He does not condemn you for your fall, but He invites you to rise again, rekindle your fire, and follow Him wholeheartedly.
A FINAL WORD
Everything this world offers — fame, pleasure, wealth, and comfort — is temporary, transient, and fleeting. But the love of Christ endures forever.
So the question remains — one that no one else can answer for you:
Do you truly love Jesus more than these? Do you love Him enough to leave behind whatever has taken His place in your heart? Do you love Him enough to return to your first love and walk again in consecration?
Hear His voice whisper once more — tender, piercing, and patient: “Lovest thou Me more than these?”
Now is the time to answer with repentance, with tears, and with action — “Yes, Lord, Thou knowest that I love Thee.”
And if that love is true, then follow Him — fully, faithfully, and forever.
Self-denial is one of the most misunderstood, yet most powerful virtues in the Christian life. Simply defined, self-denial is the conscious act of refusing oneself anything—whether sinful or even seemingly lawful—that stands in the way of fully pleasing God. It is a discipline of saying “no” to the flesh, to pride, to worldly pleasures, and to fleeting gratifications in order to say “yes” to God.
Example of Self-Denial
Consider a young believer who refuses to cheat in an exam despite the pressure and opportunity. While others are enjoying the temporary advantage of malpractice, he chooses the narrow way of integrity. Another might refuse to indulge in sexual immorality even when it promises momentary excitement, simply because he values holiness above temporary thrills. These are acts of self-denial.
Biblical Anchoring
The Bible is clear: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). Notice the word daily. Self-denial is not a one-time event but a continual walk. Paul explained the mystery when he said: “I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified” (1 Corinthians 9:27). This discipline is not weakness, but power—power over the self.
The Mystery Unveiled
Here lies the mystery: Every act of self-denial is an investment into eternity. By saying no to sin today, you are saying yes to eternal life tomorrow. By refusing to gratify the flesh, you attract God’s special attention. Heaven recognizes those who dare to deny themselves in a world that celebrates indulgence. Grace multiplies upon such lives, giving them unusual strength to overcome temptations.
Joseph’s story is a prime example (Genesis 39). He denied himself the forbidden pleasure offered by Potiphar’s wife, and though he suffered temporarily in prison, he eventually rose to the throne of Egypt. Self-denial opened the door for destiny.
Moses also exemplifies this mystery. Hebrews 11:24–25 says he “refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy the passing pleasures of sin.” His denial of royal comfort secured his place as God’s great deliverer.
Why God Rewards Self-Denial
It proves love for Him. Choosing Him above pleasure is the highest proof of devotion.
It draws divine empowerment. Grace comes more abundantly to those who consistently deny the flesh.
It secures eternal reward. Christ Himself promised: “Whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16:25).
Conclusion
The mystery of self-denial is that in losing, you gain; in refusing, you receive; in dying to self, you live unto God. The world may mock such a life, but heaven celebrates it. Self-denial is not mere religious rigor—it is the pathway to intimacy with God, victory over sin, and eternal glory.