Still Becoming

Some days feel like clarity. Others feel like fog. And some—like today—feel like walking barefoot across both.

I used to think I’d arrive somewhere by now. That if I worked hard enough, loved well enough, served long enough, I’d earn a sense of “done.” But life keeps reminding me: I’m not done. I’m still becoming.

Becoming isn’t failure. It’s faithfulness.

It’s showing up at 4:45 AM when your body’s tired but your mission calls. It’s holding hard conversations when silence would be easier. It’s sorting through supply chain emails and budgets and broken systems—and sorting through your own doubts and questions at the same time.

Still becoming means I can grieve deeply and still lead.

Still becoming means I can admit I don’t have it all figured out, and still move forward.

Still becoming means the fog doesn’t mean failure—it means formation.

I am learning that becoming is less about building a name and more about building a life worth living. A life rooted in hope. A life that listens before it speaks. A life that chooses quiet, steady presence when the world screams for speed and performance.

And maybe, just maybe, becoming is the point.

So today, I honor the unfinished. The tension. The in-between. The signal that still whispers through the static.

I am still becoming.

And that’s enough.

—John

Change My Name – Authority in Identity

 Change My Name – Authority in Identity
Text: Colossians 3:17; Revelation 2:17; Luke 10:19–20

Opening Prayer

Heavenly Father,
We come before You in the powerful name of Jesus, the name above every name. We thank You for the gift of gathering in Your presence this morning.

Lord, as we open Your Word, we ask that You open our hearts. Remove the false names we’ve carried — the labels of shame, fear, and failure — and speak the truth of who we are in Christ. Remind us that we belong to You, that You call us Your children, and that You have written a new name for us that no one can erase.

Holy Spirit, teach us today what it means to live in the authority of Jesus’ name. Let our ears be open, our minds be attentive, and our hearts be responsive. Change us by Your Word, for Your glory.

In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.

Introduction

There’s an old story told about Alexander the Great. Whether it’s legend or truth, it still carries weight.

A young soldier in Alexander’s army had the same name as his king. But unlike Alexander the Great, this young man was timid, cowardly, and disobedient. The story says that Alexander looked him in the eye and said, “Young man, either change your name or change your ways.”

That’s the power of a name. A name carries identity. It carries expectation. And it carries responsibility.

Now let’s bring it closer to home. As believers, we bear the name Christian. We carry the name of Christ. The question is: Do we live up to the name we carry?

Colossians 3:17 (BSB)
And whatever you do, in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.

Revelation 2:17 (BSB)
He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who overcomes, I will give the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it.

Luke 10:19–20 (BSB)
Behold, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy;

1. The Weight of a Name

Colossians 3:17 says: “Whatever you do, in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus.”

Notice Paul didn’t say, “Just pray in His name.” He said everything you do is to be done in His name. When you speak, when you work, when you treat your neighbor — you are carrying Christ’s name into that moment.

The third commandment says, “Do not take the name of the LORD in vain.” That’s not only about cursing. It’s about bearing God’s name falsely. If I call myself a Christian but live without Christ, I’m misusing His name.

That’s why the Alexander story cuts so deep. Young man, young woman — either change your name, or change your ways.

2. A New Name, A New Identity

But here’s the beauty of the Gospel: God doesn’t just leave us stuck with the old names of shame and failure. He changes our names.

  • Abram became Abraham, the father of nations.
  • Jacob became Israel, the one who wrestled with God and prevailed.
  • Simon became Peter, the rock on which Christ built His church.

And Revelation 2:17 promises: “To the one who overcomes… I will give a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it.”

Some of us still walk around carrying old names — “failure,” “worthless,” “addict,” “abandoned,” “unworthy.” But in Christ, those names are not the final word. He says, “You are my beloved. You are my child. You are forgiven. You are free.”

Like the song by Audio Adrenaline cries out: “Change my name, I don’t want to be the same.” That’s the cry of a heart being remade by grace.

3. Living in the Power of the Name

When God changes your name, He also gives you His authority.

Listen to Jesus’ words after the resurrection in Matthew 28:18–20:
“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey all that I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Notice what Jesus says: all authority is His. Not some. Not partial. All. And then He shares that authority with His followers.

  • We are sent in His authority.
  • We speak in His authority.
  • We live and serve in His authority.

This is not authority for our own pride or power — it’s authority for His mission, to make His name known in the world.

The early church believed this. In Acts 3, Peter said to the lame man at the temple: “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.” And the man walked.

The name of Jesus is not a label — it’s power. It is authority. And as believers, we walk under that authority.

That means when temptation comes, you can stand in the name of Jesus.
When fear rises, you can pray in the name of Jesus.
When darkness presses, you can resist in the name of Jesus.

You don’t just carry His name — you are commissioned in His name.

That means when temptation comes, you can stand in the name of Jesus.
When fear rises, you can pray in the name of Jesus.
When darkness presses, you can resist in the name of Jesus.

You don’t just carry His name — you carry His authority.

4. Personal Example – My Own Struggle with Identity

This isn’t just theory for me.

For much of my life, I ran from God’s call, not with rebellion but with busyness, with roles, with performance. I carried names I didn’t want — “not good enough,” “failure,” “the one who couldn’t quite measure up.” I wore a mask, even at church, family, friends.

When my son died in 2002, I ran into the deepest darkness of my life. I screamed into the night, and I thought God was nowhere to be found. My name in those days felt like “broken,” “unworthy,” “forgotten.”

But God never stopped pursuing me. Like the Hound of Heaven, He followed me with patient grace — through Leisa’s love, through the friends who invited me back, through small signs I didn’t notice until later. Even when I fled Him into ambition, distraction, grief, He kept whispering, “This is not who you are.”

I thought unworthiness was my name. But Christ was already writing a new one.

Today, I don’t run anymore. Sometimes I limp. But I walk with the One who never stopped walking with me.

And that is the hope for every one of us. No matter what old name we carry, God says, “I will give you a new name.”

Application

So what does this mean for us today?

  1. Examine the name you carry. Do your actions match the name of Christ?
  2. Receive the new name God gives. Stop living under labels of shame. Believe what He says about you.
  3. Walk in the authority of His name. Pray boldly. Live faithfully. Speak courageously.

Conclusion

Leaders like Alexander the Great have said, “Change your name or change your ways.”

But Jesus Christ says something even greater: “I will change your name, and I will give you My Spirit, and you will live in My authority.”

That is the promise of the Gospel. You don’t just carry His name — you belong to Him. You are His.

“Rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” (Luke 10:20)

Amen.

Closing Prayer

Lord Jesus,
We thank You for Your Word today. Thank You that in You, our names are not “forgotten” or “unworthy,” but “beloved,” “redeemed,” and “sent.” Thank You that all authority in heaven and on earth belongs to You, and that You share that authority with Your people.

Father, help us to leave this place living not in our own strength, but in the power of Your Spirit. May we carry Your name well — in our homes, in our work, in our community — so that others see not us, but You.

And as we go, remind us of Your promise: “I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

In the mighty name of Jesus we pray, Amen.

Trying, Not Trying, and Trusting

Trying, Not Trying, and Trusting

1. Trying in Self-Effort

Like rowing a boat against the current with no oars. You exhaust yourself, but never make it upstream. (Ecclesiastes 1:14; John 15:5)

2. Not Trying at All

Like leaving a field unplowed. The soil hardens, weeds take over, and no harvest comes. (Proverbs 24:30–34; James 2:17)

3. Trying with God’s Grace

Like sailing with the wind in your sails. You still hoist the sail and steer, but the power comes from beyond you. (Philippians 2:12–13; 1 Corinthians 15:10)

4. Resting in God’s Work

Like a child asleep in a father’s arms. Safety is not earned — it is received. (Matthew 11:28–30; Hebrews 4:10)

A Word of Hope

God sees your trying. He knows the weariness of effort. The good news: you don’t have to keep rowing alone. His Spirit is the wind that fills your sails.

“Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles.” (Isaiah 40:31)

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Your trying becomes fruitful when it shifts from self-striving to Spirit-led perseverance. God does not despise the struggle — He steps into it and makes it life-giving.

Technology – AI and Neuralink in Light of Biblical and Historical Shifts

Throughout history, humanity has faced turning points where new knowledge and technology reshaped daily life, relationships, and even faith practice. Artificial Intelligence and Neuralink are modern examples, but the Bible and church history give us analogies that help us discern wisely.

  • Tower of Babel (Genesis 11): Like humanity’s leap in building with brick and stone, AI and Neuralink reveal both creativity and the temptation to exalt ourselves beyond God’s limits.
  • The Printing Press: Gutenberg’s invention put Scripture into the hands of ordinary people. Today’s digital tools could just as radically change how truth and ideas spread—for good or ill.
  • Greek Language and Roman Roads: The infrastructure of the first century helped the gospel spread. Likewise, new tech could accelerate communication and community, if directed toward God’s mission.
  • Writing and Literacy in Israel’s Story: God’s law written on stone tablets shifted culture from oral tradition to written word. Neuralink’s potential to “write directly on the brain” reminds us that what God writes on the heart remains primary (Jeremiah 31:33).
  • The Industrial Revolution: Machines reshaped labor, family, and economy. AI threatens similar upheaval to work, identity, and human dignity.
  • Medical Advances: From vaccines to transplants, technology has extended life and restored health. Neuralink’s promises to heal neurological diseases echo this hope—yet mortality and eternal hope in Christ remain unchanged.

These analogies remind us: technology is neither savior nor enemy by itself. It magnifies what is in the human heart. When placed under God’s sovereignty, it can serve His mission. When pursued for pride or control, it becomes Babel again.

Glossary of Terms

  • AI (Artificial Intelligence): Computer systems designed to perform tasks that normally require human intelligence—such as learning, reasoning, problem-solving, or generating language and images.
  • Neuralink: A company developing brain–computer interface technology, designed to connect human brains directly with computers to restore lost functions (such as movement in paralysis) or enhance abilities.
  • Tower of Babel (Genesis 11): A biblical story where humanity sought to build a tower “to the heavens,” symbolizing human pride and unity apart from God. God scattered them by confusing their languages.
  • Printing Press: A 15th-century invention by Johannes Gutenberg that allowed mass production of books. It transformed education, culture, and especially the spread of the Bible.
  • Greek Language and Roman Roads: In the New Testament era, the common Greek language and Roman road system provided a foundation for the gospel to spread quickly across the empire.
  • Writing on Stone Tablets: God’s giving of the Ten Commandments to Moses (Exodus 31:18), marking a shift from oral tradition to written law.
  • Industrial Revolution: The period (18th–19th centuries) when machines transformed work, family life, and society, creating both opportunity and disruption.
  • Medical Advances: Discoveries such as vaccines, anesthesia, antibiotics, and organ transplants that reshaped human health and longevity.
  • Orthodoxy (Theological): The “right belief” or faithful teaching of the Christian church across history, especially centered on the person and work of Christ.
  • Idolatry: Worshiping or depending on something created (technology, wealth, power) rather than God.
  • Stewardship: The biblical principle of wisely managing resources, abilities, and creation as gifts from God, not possessions of our own.

Restart with God’s Grace

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” – Lamentations 3:22–23

“If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” – 2 Corinthians 5:17

Each day is a chance to begin again. God’s grace does not run out—it meets us fresh every morning. Whatever yesterday held—failure, fear, or frustration—today we are invited to restart with Him. In Christ, the old is gone. The new is here.

Prayer:

Lord, thank You for Your mercy that gives me a new beginning each day. Help me walk today as Your new creation. Amen.

What I’ve Learned so Far About Life

Life ain’t a straight line. It’s not fair, it’s not simple, and it sure doesn’t wait on you to get your act together.

I’ve learned life will knock you flat more times than you think is reasonable, and just when you think you’re done, it hands you something beautiful.

People come and go. Some stay. Some wreck you. Some save you without ever knowing it. And sometimes, it’s the same person doing all three.

What matters is showing up—being real, and not pretending you’ve got it figured out.

About God

God’s not the preacher in the pulpit telling you to try harder.

God’s been in the silence. In the tears. In the porch swing moments. In the second chances.

I used to think God just wanted me to serve and obey. Now I know He wants me whole, free, and home.

I’ve learned God doesn’t waste anything—not even the pain, not even the years I thought were lost.

About Me

I’m not bulletproof, but I’ve taken a lot of hits and I’m still standing.

I’ve carried too much for too long. I’ve hid behind work and projects because it was easier than feeling what was real.

But I’ve also learned I’ve got more heart than I gave myself credit for. I’ve learned I can sit in the hard stuff. I can love people who are hard to love. I can still believe in better days.

About Grief

Grief is a ghost with a key to the front door.

You can’t outrun it, and you can’t outwork it. It waits. It teaches.

I buried my grief so deep I didn’t even realize it was shaping me.

But now I see—grief isn’t weakness. It’s proof that I loved someone more than life itself.

And now, I carry that love forward. Not as a wound—but as a fire.

About Living

Living isn’t just getting through the day.

It’s paying attention. It’s listening to the quiet voice that says, “Don’t miss this.”

It’s letting someone in, even when you’re scared they’ll leave.

Living is remembering that I still have breath—and that means I still have purpose.

About Hope

Hope isn’t loud. It doesn’t kick the door down.

It whispers. It sits with you. It says, “Try again.”

I’ve had every reason to quit—and yet, I don’t.

That’s hope. That’s grace.

I’ve learned hope comes in strange forms—a text, a glance, a moment when the world slows down and something just feels right.

Hope is still choosing to build. Still choosing to believe.

And if I’m honest, sometimes the person who changed me didn’t preach, didn’t fix, didn’t even try.

Just listened. Just stayed. Just saw me.

And something in me started to shift.

Maybe that’s what God does, too. Just shows up—and stays.

And for the first time in a long time…

That’s enough.

I’ve been asking myself lately why I’ve done all of this.

I’ve been asking myself lately why I’ve done all of this.
Why, in 1989, I sat in the yard with a notebook computer, working while my son played nearby — but not really paying attention to him. Why I’ve poured 65 to 80 hours a week into work, every week, from college right up to now at age 67 — through Evergreen, ministry, and community service.

I can see the pattern stretching back decades.
In college, I juggled studying and part-time jobs because I thought that’s what it took to make something of myself. In 1993, I turned down a safe regional manager’s job because I wanted the freedom to build my own thing. I consulted for 26 years, worked in co-ops for 5, then left under a cloud. I started consulting again, built a WISP to $55K a month and 730 customers in two years, only to be dismissed by the majority owner for lack of fealty. Ninety days later, I started Evergreen — and I’ve been slogging ever since.

Somewhere along the way, I built my life around the belief that it was my job to build, to fix, to carry. That I should never settle for “good enough.” That if something needed to be done, I should be the one to do it — even if it meant giving up comfort, time, or relationships.

I’ve lost everything more than once, in cycles of 8 to 10 years. I’ve rebuilt more than once. And in between, I’ve driven myself with an intensity most people don’t understand — and maybe I don’t fully understand either.

If I’m honest, I think I’ve been chasing significance more than success. Trying to prove that what I build matters. That I matter. That I’m the kind of man who doesn’t walk away when things get hard, no matter how long it takes.

But lately I find myself wondering…
Can grace win over the cynicism I’ve picked up along the way?
Can purpose rise again from all the pain and loss?
Can light reframe what I’ve lost — and maybe even redeem it?

I don’t have those answers yet. But I know I’m still here, still building, still hoping. And maybe that’s where the next chapter starts.

A Sunday in Buna – Work, Worship, and a Few Omelets

8-10-2025 Today started at 6:15 AM.
Printed Lessons 5 and 6 of Great Characters for FMC Buna, prayed for those on my heart, and prepared Lesson 3 on Moses for Sunday School.

Before church, I listened to Dr. Richard Lindzen’s Climate “Science” interview (EP 320) — always good to stretch my mind before the day gets busy.

At FMC Buna, I prepped the Bluetooth podium mics, recorded the sermon, and uploaded it to YouTube straight from my iPhone.

Came home, made omelets, watched The Lincoln Lawyer, and took a nap. The afternoon went into updating ancestry databases, working on my memoirs, and adding details to Frances’s biography. Also reached out for more stories, checked in on Victoria’s birthday wishes, and wrapped up with a Walmart order.

Not a bad Sunday — a little ministry, a little tech, a little history, and a little rest.

When My Heart is Heavy — Meeting God in Grief

Grief is one of the most human experiences we share—and one of the most misunderstood. We often think of it as something we must “get over” or “move past,” but the truth is, grief is love with nowhere to go. When someone or something dear to us is gone, the ache we feel is the proof of our deep connection.

God does not stand far away, waiting for us to get ourselves together. He meets us right in the middle of our heartbreak. Scripture shows us that He sees our tears, walks with us in our valleys, and promises joy will come again.

I invite you to reflect on these truths. Take them slowly. Let them settle in your heart like gentle rain on dry ground.

God Sees My Tears

Scripture: “You have taken account of my wanderings; put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book?” (Psalm 56:8, BSB)

God’s attention to our pain is deeply personal. He doesn’t just notice our tears—He collects them, treasures them, and remembers them. Each tear carries the story of our love, our loss, and our longing.

Lessons from Ancient Paths: Community, Faith, and Service

Today, my thoughts have been circling around the idea of showing up—how simple, steadfast presence shapes families, communities, and even the course of history.

Learning from the Great Characters

Recently, I’ve committed to a “great characters” study of Old Testament figures. Spending time with the lives of Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Ruth, and others, I’m struck by how their faith was not just expressed in the grand moments but in daily acts of trust and service. Abraham set out not knowing where he was going, Joseph forgave and provided for his brothers, Ruth gleaned faithfully in the fields, Moses endured years in the wilderness with a people often hard to love. In each story, faithfulness showed itself most in the willingness to simply show up—again and again—where God placed them.

The Early Church: Community in Action

This thread carries into the New Testament, especially in the story of the early church. Acts describes a group of ordinary people who devoted themselves to teaching, fellowship, breaking bread, and prayer. They pooled resources, cared for the poor, and made space for each other’s burdens. It wasn’t just the big, headline moments that defined them—it was the habit of gathering, praying, sharing needs, and finding creative ways to serve. The essence of their life together was being present for one another.

Buna: Where the Old Lessons Still Matter

What amazes me is how much those ancient practices still matter, even in a small community like Buna. Our challenges may look different than those in scripture, but the calling is much the same: show up for your neighbor, be generous with your time, share a meal, lend a listening ear, and offer practical help where you can. Whether it’s fixing a phone system for the EMS, planning a library program, or checking on a friend who’s had a hard week—these are the acts that bind a community together.

Faith, Partnership, and Small Steps

If there’s a lesson I keep learning, it’s that real progress—spiritual or practical—comes from faithful presence and partnership. Nobody does it alone. Sometimes, the work is slow, and not everyone pulls in the same direction, but day by day, small steps add up. This is as true in ministry as it is in building out broadband, running a business, or serving on a community board.

A Prayer for Today

As I look ahead, I’m praying for wisdom to keep showing up where I’m needed, patience to keep working even when the results are slow, and gratitude for the people God has placed alongside me on this journey.

To anyone reading: Don’t underestimate the power of being present. Whether you’re called to something big or small, your willingness to show up—consistently, quietly, faithfully—matters more than you know.

Here’s to carrying forward the lessons of ancient paths, right here in the heart of Buna.

— John