Journey With Jesus Podcast

Jonny Singh
  • 4.0 (4)
  • Christianity
  • Updated Weekly

A platform dedicated to Christian content aimed at your improvement and spiritual uplift. singhjonathan78.substack.com

  1. Mar 14

    Why Christians Need to Stop Explaining Every Hard Thing

    This may come as no surprise. If it does, then perhaps it is time to wake up to a humbling truth. You are not the main character! That sentence sounds harsh at first. Our culture trains us to believe the opposite. Every story centers on personal fulfillment. Every setback is supposed to be a stepping stone toward something greater. Every closed door must mean a better one is waiting. But life does not always work that way. And Scripture never promised that it would. A Memory From the Summer of 2016 Back in the summer of 2016, I had the privilege of playing on my high school’s men’s volleyball team. Where I grew up the sports community was relatively small. Most of us rotated between the same sports depending on the season. Volleyball, basketball, football (soccer for my American friends), and cricket. The same group of guys often played all of them. That year our volleyball team made it into a qualifying tournament that could lead to regional selection. Some players would be chosen from our school team to represent the region and possibly move toward national competition. For us, this was huge. We trained for hours with the limited resources we had. Afternoons after school turned into late evenings. Some weekends were spent practicing as well. Our coach began making encouraging remarks about my chances of being selected. What made it even more meaningful was that I had only recently transitioned from basketball to volleyball. It required adjustment. Different movements. Different instincts. Different teamwork. Thankfully, my teammates helped me grow into the game. Months of training finally led to game week. We played on back to back days and made it to the final qualifier match. The final game was scheduled on a Sunday during a large public celebration. The venue was expected to be packed. Sponsors would be there. Food vendors would be there. And yes, scouts would be there. I was thrilled. But underneath the excitement was another feeling. A quiet disappointment. I had not told my parents much about the games. They had never attended any of them, and volleyball simply was not seen as something serious in our home. To them it was just a sport I enjoyed. In fairness to them, culturally it was not expected that parents attend sporting events or assume these things would lead anywhere significant. But the final match was on Sunday. And in our home, Sunday meant assembling with the saints. No exceptions. To summarize what followed, I did not play in that game. The opportunity passed. The Lesson That Stayed With Me Looking back now, one thought comes to mind. You are not the main character. Life brings missed opportunities, unanswered prayers, disappointments, broken relationships, strained friendships, grief, and loss. When those moments arrive, we naturally want explanations. We want reasons. We want reassurance that something better is coming. And often, this is where bad theology quietly slips in. The Theology of Comforting Clichés If you have spent time around Christian circles, you have likely heard statements like these: “God gives His toughest battles to His strongest soldiers.” “God needed another angel.” “God closed that door because something better is coming.” “God knows what is best.” Most of these statements are spoken with sincere intentions. People want to comfort someone who is hurting. They want to help the pain make sense. But good intentions do not always produce sound theology. Many of these sayings are not found anywhere in Scripture. Some even contradict what the Bible actually teaches. God does not turn people into angels. Scripture never says suffering is assigned based on spiritual strength. The Bible never promises that every missed opportunity will be replaced with something better in this life. Sometimes things simply hurt. Sometimes prayers are not answered the way we hoped. Sometimes opportunities pass and never return. Trying to attach confident explanations to every hardship can distort our understanding of God. In many cases we are not defending God’s wisdom. We are trying to soothe our discomfort with uncertainty. Scripture does not always give us explanations. Often it gives us something better. It gives us perspective! Scripture Does Not Hide Disappointment Consider a few moments from the lives of faithful people. Moses led Israel for decades, yet he was not allowed to enter the Promised Land. “The LORD said to him, ‘This is the land which I swore to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob… I have let you see it with your eyes, but you shall not go over there.’” (Deuteronomy 34:4 NASB) Paul pleaded with the Lord to remove the thorn in his flesh. The answer he received was not relief but grace. “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9 NASB) Even Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane expressed the weight of suffering before submitting to the Father’s will. “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will.” (Matthew 26:39 NASB) None of these moments were explained away with spiritual clichés. They were moments of surrender. When We Stop Making Ourselves the Center Sometimes the deeper issue is this. We quietly assume that our lives are supposed to reach some kind of climactic fulfillment. A moment where everything makes sense. A story where every hardship eventually reveals a perfect reason. But Scripture does not frame life that way. Solomon wrote, “The conclusion, when all has been heard, is: fear God and keep His commandments, because this applies to every person.” (Ecclesiastes 12:13 NASB) Jeremiah confessed, “I know, O LORD, that a man’s way is not in himself, nor is it in a man who walks to direct his steps.” (Jeremiah 10:23 NASB) Jesus reminded His listeners that all Scripture ultimately pointed to Him. “It is these that testify about Me.” (John 5:39 NASB) The story of Scripture is not centered on human fulfillment. It is centered on God! So What Do We Do With Disappointment? * We stop pretending that every hardship comes with a tidy explanation. * We stop forcing theological conclusions that Scripture never makes. * We stop assuming our lives are supposed to unfold like a carefully scripted story. Instead, we do something far more difficult and far more faithful. We trust God. Even when we do not understand. Even when opportunities pass. Even when the answer never comes. The Christian hope is not that everything will make sense now. The Christian hope is that God will make everything right later. Paul reminds us that creation itself is waiting for that day. “The creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” (Romans 8:21 NASB) That is the promise. Not perfect explanations now. Perfect restoration later. A Final Thought The most freeing realization in the Christian life may be this. You are not the main character. God is. And strangely enough, once that truth settles into the heart, disappointment loses much of its power. Because the story was never about us in the first place. If This Reflection Encouraged You If writings like this help you think more deeply about Scripture and faith, thank you for reading and sharing them with others. And if you feel moved to support the work behind these reflections, you can do so through my Buy Me a Coffee page. Your encouragement helps make it possible to keep writing, studying, and sharing these conversations about faith and life. Either way, thank you for being here! ❤️ Get full access to Journey With Jesus at singhjonathan78.substack.com/subscribe

    10 min

  2. Mar 8

    I Thought I Was Better Than This

    After several recent doctor visits and more blood panels than I care to count, I learned something I was not expecting. I was not doing as well as I thought. For a while I had my own explanations ready. Maybe it was lifestyle adjustments. Maybe it was moving to a new country. Maybe I simply missed my mom’s cooking back home. Each of those seemed reasonable enough. Turns out I was wrong. In a previous reflection I mentioned that I began congregational ministry at what many would consider a very young age. I stepped into responsibilities that sounded mature in theory long before they had fully matured in practice. If you knew me in those earlier years, you would have noticed two things quickly. I had energy that seemed endless, and I was not always the most patient listener in the room. I looked different then. I moved differently too. My enthusiasm often ran ahead of my wisdom. I remember my eldest brother once telling me something that has stayed with me for years. He said, “Baptism doesn’t dismiss biology.” I may not be remembering his exact words, but the meaning was clear. In Guyana we would say he was “wising me up.” What he meant was simple. Spiritual commitment does not cancel out the realities of human life. Growth in Christ does not suddenly remove the seasons of physical, emotional, and biological development that God built into our bodies. In other words, he was telling me, “Slow down, Jonny. Do not get ahead of yourself.” That advice has come back to my mind recently. The past few years have carried more weight than I realized at the time. Frustration. Hurt. Confusion. Doubt. Moments where expectations collided with reality. I pushed through most of it, convinced that perseverance meant ignoring the toll it was taking. But the body has a way of telling the truth. My energy dropped. Muscle mass faded. My strength was not what it used to be. Even small things like changes in hair and overall vitality began to show. I blamed genetics. I blamed relocation. I blamed everything except the real issue. My doctor recently explained that my body has been storing high levels of stress over a relatively short period of time. When I heard that, I was surprised. My wife was not. She has quietly watched moments of burnout, fatigue, and frustration that I convinced myself were just normal parts of pushing forward. To her, the diagnosis simply put words to what she had already seen. To me, it felt like a mirror. All I could think was this: How did I not see this coming? At twenty five years old, stress was the last thing I thought would be the reason behind mental and physical setbacks. Yet there it was, staring back at me through a stack of lab results. Over the past week I have spent more time in my head than usual. I delayed posting several reflections that were already written. Too many thoughts were swirling around. Eventually one conclusion settled in. I am not better than the statistics. And if I am honest, the assumption that I was immune to burnout carried more arrogance than I realized. The routines I kept, the efforts I made, the counsel I sought. None of those things are wasted. But they also do not make a person invincible. Scripture has been reminding me of that. Paul once wrote about a season when the weight of ministry nearly crushed him. He said, “For we do not want you to be unaware, brethren, of our affliction which came to us in Asia, that we were burdened excessively, beyond our strength, so that we despaired even of life” (2 Corinthians 1:8, NASB). That is the apostle Paul speaking. A man whose endurance most of us admire. Yet even he reached a point where the burden felt beyond his ability. Moses knew similar frustration. Leading Israel through the wilderness drained him to the point that he cried out to God, “I alone am not able to carry all this people, because it is too burdensome for me” (Numbers 11:14, NASB). Even Jesus, in the garden of Gethsemane, felt the deep loneliness of a heavy moment. After asking His disciples to stay awake and pray, He returned to find them sleeping. Scripture records His words plainly: “So, you men could not keep watch with Me for one hour?” (Matthew 26:40, NASB). And then there is Elijah. After confronting the prophets of Baal and standing boldly for God, he fled in fear from Jezebel. Exhausted and overwhelmed, he sat under a tree and wished his life would end. What did God do in that moment? God did not lecture him. God gave him rest. An angel touched him and said, “Arise, eat.” Then Elijah slept, ate again, and regained strength for the journey ahead (1 Kings 19:5–8, NASB). These accounts remind us of something important. Faithful people still feel pressure. Servants of God still experience exhaustion. Even strong men of faith reach moments where their strength alone is not enough. So what do we learn from that? First, honesty matters. Pretending to be fine does not make a person strong. It only delays the moment when reality forces a conversation. Second, humility matters. None of us outruns the limits God placed within the human body. Third, care matters. Sometimes the most spiritual thing a person can do is rest, eat well, pray deeply, and allow trusted people to walk alongside them. Jesus Himself invited the weary with these words: “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28, NASB). That invitation still stands. So what would I like to share with the few faithful readers and listeners here today? Simply this. Do not be too arrogant to think you are better than the statistics. Stress, exhaustion, and discouragement do not only visit those who are weak. They visit those who care deeply, carry responsibility, and keep moving forward when life becomes heavy. Pay attention to your soul. Listen to your body. Lean on God. And remember that even the strongest servants in Scripture had moments where they needed rest, help, and the quiet reassurance that God had not left them alone. If you have been moved and are encouraged by what we do here and our efforts to share Jesus in the way we do, your prayers, words, and furthering it by sharing the posts means a lot to us. If you would like to personally be a part of this effort, you can do so by making a contribution through the link listed below as, “Buy Me A Coffee.” Get full access to Journey With Jesus at singhjonathan78.substack.com/subscribe

    9 min

  3. Feb 20

    The Rationale of Kindness

    I stepped into congregational ministry when most people my age were still trying to find their footing. I was not guiding teens or speaking to young adults. I was the youngest person in the room. That stayed the case until my wife started attending with us, and she is only a year younger. At twenty-one, fresh out of preaching school, I often felt like an imposter. Not because I lacked desire, but because I knew how much life I had not yet lived. Yet ministry does not wait for you to feel ready. I found myself sitting with couples on the edge of divorce. Talking with parents who were cut off from their children. Walking with families facing terminal diagnoses. Trying to preach, teach, marry, and bury, all while I was still figuring out what adulthood even meant. The strain showed up as doubts, emotional fatigue, and a few humbling lessons learned the hard way. One moment that has stayed with me is definitely worth sharing for this reflection. A dear sister asked whether she should leave our congregation because of deep and complicated conflict. I was single. Young. Barely out of school. And she wanted clarity about something shaped by years of heartache. I wish I could remember exactly what I told her. Some memories from those early years sit blurry in my mind. Regardless of what I did share, she eventually made the move along with her family and as far as I and her can tell, things seemingly are better. This reflection, however, is not about her or even my younger self. It is about the lessons I wish I had understood back then. Lessons about disagreements. Lessons about kindness. Lessons about how God uses all of these to grow us. And maybe, just maybe, how I could have helped others in a more balanced and learned way. Concerning Disagreements Disagreements come in different shapes and different levels of weight. Some are mutual and obvious. Others live quietly inside one person while the other remains completely unaware. Those are often the ones that create the most confusion. Not every disagreement carries a moral obligation to force a perfect resolution. Some tensions simply will not untangle on this side of Heaven. In those moments, we trust God to be both just and merciful to all involved. Understanding this gives us room to breathe. Disagreements are part of being human in a world that is still waiting to be redeemed. Concerning Kindness Kindness is sometimes mistaken for softness, avoidance, or weakness. Scripture paints a more wholistic and balanced picture. Paul tells us that kindness is born of the Spirit in Galatians 5:22. It is something God grows in us as we learn to walk with Him. It is not a tactic. It is not a personality type. It is a testimony to who we belong to. Biblical kindness is not the shallow politeness our culture celebrates. It is the strength that holds truth in one hand and compassion in the other. It is what allowed Jesus to cry over lost souls yet still speak firmly to those who misled others. Kindness does not force us to choose between conviction and mercy. If it feels like we must choose, it may be that the world shaped our view of kindness more than Scripture did. Additionally, kindness does not seek to dominate through might or majority polls, it merely shows up daily through the efforts and posture of those shaped by Jesus. Concerning My Heart A reflection like this matters only when it reaches our own heart first. The common instinct is to think of someone else who needs to hear it. That instinct often comes from a quiet desire to justify our position in a conflict. But change begins inside. Kindness grows in a willing heart, a humble spirit, and genuine courage. I am asking God’s Spirit to reshape my own heart in this area. Maybe you are doing the same. As I do so, here are the questions I return to often: * Is my kindness dependent on reciprocity? * Is my disagreement rooted in the issue, or is it tied to my pride, shame, or hurt? * Can I imagine a healthy future with the person or persons I disagree with? * Would pushing for resolution right now create deeper harm? * Can I give myself permission to pray, breathe, and wait without guilt? * Is my idea of kindness shaped by my feelings or by Scripture? Consider Kindness at Work There is a moment in the early church that gives us a quiet, powerful picture of kindness shaping restoration. Paul and Barnabas disagreed sharply over John Mark in Acts 15. Paul felt Mark was not ready for the journey. Barnabas chose to give him another chance. Their disagreement was so sharp that they parted ways. Scripture gives us no record of a conversation where they resolved it. No details about how they talked it through. No step-by-step account of reconciliation. But years later, while writing from prison, Paul said this about Mark: “Pick up Mark and bring him with you, for he is useful to me for service” (2 Timothy 4:11). We see the beginning of the conflict. And we see the outcome. Everything in between is unseen. Yet it is not hard to imagine what filled that space. Men shaped by Jesus. Hearts softened by the Spirit. Kindness that refused to freeze someone at their lowest moment. Their account reminds us that disagreements do not have to end relationships. And kindness can work quietly in places Scripture does not describe. Finally, Concerning the Future Disagreements, hurt, and unresolved tension will always touch our lives. But we look toward a future where God removes all of it. A world with no pain. No division. No conflict. Until then, kindness gives us small glimpses of what that world will be like. It does not erase every problem, but it helps us grow toward the likeness of Christ. So let us strive to become: Transformed. Romans 12:2 Peacemakers. Matthew 5:9 Christ-centered. Colossians 3:1-3 Patient. James 5:7-8 And above all, Kind. Ephesians 4:32 These virtues help us walk through disagreements with humility, maturity, and hope. Next Steps If this reflection speaks to you, consider taking a few next steps. Spend time reading how Christians throughout history handled conflict and restoration. Reflect on the questions above and journal through them one at a time. Pray specifically for the Spirit to grow kindness in you. Take one small action toward someone you disagree with. Not to solve everything, but simply to open a door. Growth often begins with small, steady choices. Linked here is a book I found very useful in my moments of weakness that has in some way, shaped this very reflection. I would strongly encourage that you give it a read if you have not yet come across it: The Art of Disagreeing: How to Keep Calm and Stay Friends in Hard Conversations (Christian book on disagreement, arguments, conflict resolution, disunity.) If this reflection encouraged you and you would like to support the work, you can do so through my Buy Me a Coffee link. Your kindness means more than you know, and I am grateful for you. Get full access to Journey With Jesus at singhjonathan78.substack.com/subscribe

    11 min
  4. As a Gentile among Jews!

    Feb 19

    As a Gentile among Jews!

    Social interactions may truly be afraid of me. That might sound dramatic, but here is what I mean. For as long as I can remember, I have been outspoken. Curious. Willing to step into conversations even when they carried risk. I enjoy the unknown. New places. New people. New ideas. Because of that, interacting with strangers has rarely made me anxious. Not every exchange goes well, but fear has never been the loudest voice in the room for me. Before migrating to the United States, I traveled among Caribbean and South American neighboring countries. I loved it. I learned from it. And in all that traveling, I rarely had to introduce my ethnicity or nationality. The people around me shared similar cultural instincts. No one needed a lesson just to understand where I was from. My background was not a subject. It was simply part of the air we breathed. That changed when I moved here. Suddenly my story became a talking point. I found myself giving geographical summaries, historical overviews, and sometimes even anti-stereotype clarifications. To be clear, I enjoy learning about my ancestry and history. I am not ashamed of it. But there is a difference between sharing your story because you want to and feeling like you need to present a short orientation session just to be understood. This has not only happened in broader society. I have felt it in church spaces as well. Let me say plainly, this is not an attack. It is an invitation to learn. From my limited perspective, it can sometimes feel as though immigrants are expected to know a great deal about American culture, politics, and humor, while others are free to know very little about us and still feel comfortable leaning on stereotypes or asking narrow questions. Many people are well meaning. I believe that. But good intentions do not always soften the impact of careless jokes or dismissive assumptions. Even growing up, with American missionaries living in my family’s home throughout the years, I saw how easy it is for all of us to misunderstand one another. There are fewer people who truly know than those who simply assume they do. Many of us from third-world countries have been conditioned to handle these moments with patience. We smile. We explain. We move on. That is often our culture. But I have been sitting with a deeper concern. Despite our efforts to be spiritually discerning, we sometimes overlook a subtle attitude in the church. It is the quiet expectation of assimilation. What I call, figuratively, “Jewish assimilation” from “Gentile Christians.” I do not mean that literally. I mean the expectation that the outsider should do most of the adjusting, most of the learning, most of the explaining, and most of the tolerating in order to belong. That tension is not new. The first century church wrestled deeply with it. Paul writes, “For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks” (1 Corinthians 12:13, NASB). That is not poetic language. It is a Christ-centered reality. The church is one body! He says again, “There is no distinction between Jew and Greek; for the same Lord is Lord of all” (Romans 10:12, NASB). If the Lord is Lord of all, then no culture holds a higher spiritual status. His words in Colossians sharpens it further: “A renewal… where there is no distinction between Greek and Jew… but Christ is all, and in all” (Colossians 3:10–11, NASB). Culture is real. Heritage is real. National pride is real. But Christ is ultimate. And yet, even with those truths, conflict surfaced. In Acts 15, some insisted that Gentile believers adopt Jewish markers to be fully accepted. The apostles had to confront it directly. Peter reminded them that God had already cleansed Gentile hearts by faith. “Now therefore why do you put God to the test by placing upon the neck of the disciples a yoke which neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear?” (Acts 15:10, NASB). In other words, do not place cultural burdens where God has not placed spiritual ones. That principle still matters. Not only for Christians, but for anyone watching the church from the outside. When unity fractures over culture rather than conviction, it sends a confusing message. So what can we do? Five Practices That Move Us Forward 1. Choose curiosity over assumption Ask instead of guessing. Let people define their own story. Respect begins with listening. 2. Listen without rushing to defend If someone shares an experience that stung, resist the impulse to immediately explain it away. A body cannot heal if one part refuses to acknowledge another part’s pain (1 Corinthians 12:13, NASB). 3. Refuse assimilation as the price of belonging! Unity is not “become like us so you can stay.” Unity is “come to Christ and grow with us.” Acts 15 reminds us not to bind cultural expectations where God has not bound them (Acts 15:1–11, NASB). 4. Read more. Learn more. Be resourceful. Love does not stay ignorant on purpose. The ear of wisdom seeks knowledge. This means studying how racial and cultural tensions have shaped churches historically. It means learning from what hindered unity and from what helped it. One thoughtful resource is It’s There in BLACK and WHITE: Scriptural Answers to 37 Questions People Are Asking about Racial Tension in the Church by Glenn Colley, Ben Giselbach, Hiram Kemp, and Melvin L. Otey. 5. Build relationships beyond Sunday Acts tells us believers were “taking their meals together with gladness and sincerity of heart” (Acts 2:46, NASB). Shared tables create shared understanding. People stop being categories and start being friends when we spend time in each other spaces sharing something as personal as a meal. Closing Thoughts Some of the most harmful divisions are not loud. They are subtle. The quiet expectation that only one side should adjust. The silent pressure to shrink parts of your story to make others comfortable. The gospel calls us higher. “Christ is all, and in all” (Colossians 3:11, NASB). If that is true, then no Christian should feel like a permanent foreigner in the family of God. If this resonates with you, I would genuinely love to hear your perspective. What has your experience been? Where have you seen growth? Where have you seen tension? Thoughtful dialogue is one of the ways we move forward together. And if these reflections encourage you or challenge you in meaningful ways, consider supporting me through my Buy Me a Coffee link. Your support helps me continue writing, recording, and engaging conversations like this with care and conviction. Thank you for reading. Let us keep learning. Let us keep growing. Let us keep choosing unity that is rooted in Christ rather than comfort. Get full access to Journey With Jesus at singhjonathan78.substack.com/subscribe

    9 min

  5. Feb 14

    No Friend Like Him

    “There’s not a friend like the lowly Jesus, no not one, no not one.” Maybe those words take you back to a wooden pew, a song leader waving his hand in steady rhythm, or a voice beside you that sang just a little louder than everyone else. Maybe you have never sung it. Either way, it is one of those lines that tends to stick. When I was about six or seven, I was hooked on music. Rhythm caught me before I even understood it. I did not grow up in a family that read sheet music or played instruments, but I grew up in a house where music was always present. Calypso would play from my dad’s old speakers. Calypso, for those unfamiliar, is a Caribbean genre rooted in storytelling, rhythm, and social commentary. It is upbeat, playful, and often humorous. Reggae would echo through the house on Saturdays while my siblings handled chores. Outside, the streets of my Caribbean town carried their own soundtrack. Music was everywhere. I love music. But this reflection is not really about music. It’s more so has to do with a song my dad would sing to me at any and every chance he got, and the affection behind it. It goes something like this: “Jonny my boy, Mama send you to school to learn to read and write. Jonny my boy, Mama send you to school to learn to spell dumpling. D U M P L I N is not the way it goes.” And on it would go. No matter my mood, no matter how frustrated or tired I was, that song could pull a laugh out of me. Recently, I asked him if he made it up. Turns out it is an actual song. A whole song about spelling dumpling. But for me, it is not about dumpling. It is about belonging. My name is Jonathan. For as long as I can remember, my dad called me Jonnyboy. Eventually I dropped the “boy,” for more serious sounding situations. He often told me how much he loved my name, especially because of another Jonathan in Scripture. Saul’s son. David’s friend. Loyal, gentle, and selfless. My dad admired that friendship. He admired the way Jonathan loved David. “What does any of this have to do with faith?” you might ask. Everything. There was a time when my dad and I were not friends. Growing up as a preacher’s kid was not always easy. Expectations were high. Mistakes felt heavy. There were seasons of tension, arguments, even silence. At one point we stopped talking altogether. The relationship was strained in ways that hurt both of us. By God’s grace, it did not stay that way. Today, my dad relies on me in ways that give me purpose. We talk. We laugh. We serve. We have become friends. Not just father and son. Actual friends. I know not every story ends that way. Restoration is not always mutual. But when it happens, it feels like grace with skin on. And that is what brings me back to the hymn. “There’s not a friend like the lowly Jesus.” On a day when relationships of all kinds are celebrated, it feels right to talk about the Friend who never withdraws, never grows cold, and never keeps score. Let me offer three reasons why. 1. Jesus Is the Friend Who Moves Toward Us Romans 5:8 says, “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Notice the direction of that love. It moves toward us. Not after we fix ourselves. Not after we prove ourselves. While we were still sinners. And in John 15:13, Jesus says, “Greater love has no one than this, that a person will lay down his life for his friends.” He does not speak in theory. He speaks in certainty. He lays down His life. Human friendships sometimes fracture. Pride steps in. Silence grows. Distance becomes normal. But Jesus steps toward the broken version of us. He does not wait at a distance for improvement. He enters the mess. That should stir something in us. Gratitude, yes. But also surrender. 2. Jesus Is the Friend Who Stays Proverbs 18:24 says, “A man of too many friends comes to ruin, But there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” Many have experienced the first half of that verse. Plenty of acquaintances. Few who stay. Hebrews 13:5 records the promise of God: “I will never desert you, nor will I ever abandon you.” Never is a strong word. Jesus does not leave us on read, send our calls to voicemail, or ghost us after a first interaction. He does not withdraw when disappointed. He does not give up when progress is slow. When earthly relationships feel uncertain, He remains steady. That steadiness invites trust. It also calls for faithfulness in return. A friendship with Jesus is not casual. It’s covenantal. 3. Jesus Is the Friend Who Transforms A good friend comforts. A great friend shapes. Proverbs 27:17 says, “Iron sharpens iron, So one person sharpens another.” True friendship changes us. It refines us. Second Corinthians 5:17 reminds us, “Therefore if anyone is in Christ, this person is a new creation; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.” Jesus does not just soothe. He renews. He does not simply sit with us in our brokenness. He leads us out of it. That kind of friendship requires openness. It requires humility. It requires obedience. But it leads to life. When I think about my dad singing that silly song, I realize something. The reason it settles me is not because of the melody. It is because of the relationship behind it. The history. The restoration. The love that survived strain. Multiply that by eternity, and you begin to glimpse the friendship of Christ. There is not a friend like the lowly Jesus. No not one. If distance has grown between you and Him, take a step back. Not in shame, but in honesty. Speak to Him. Open the Scriptures. Return to prayer. Friendship grows where attention goes. And if you already walk with Him, treasure that relationship. Feed it. Guard it. Let it shape every other relationship in your life. Because long after the songs fade and the seasons shift, this truth remains steady. There is not a friend like Him. As I close, let me say this. If this space has encouraged you, if these words have helped you think more deeply about your walk with Jesus, then thank you for being here. Preparing these pieces takes time and intention. It’s a labor of love. My heart with this work has always been simple. Help people draw closer to Christ. Help restore what may be strained. Help strengthen what is already steady. If you believe in that mission and would like to support it in a practical way, I have a “Buy Me a Coffee” link available. It is simply a way to help sustain the time, tools, and resources that go into this. There is no pressure and no expectation. If you are moved to give, thank you. If you are not in a place to do so, your prayers and your continued reading mean more than you know. Either way, let us stay close to the Friend who never walks away. And let us keep walking with Him, together. Get full access to Journey With Jesus at singhjonathan78.substack.com/subscribe

    9 min
  6. But, I'm a Lefty!

    Feb 13

    But, I'm a Lefty!

    I have always been excited about the idea of being a husband. Sometimes more than just the idea of having a wife. That may sound unusual, but growing up, watching my mom and dad show affection and loyalty to one another stirred something in me. I wanted to be the kind of husband my dad was. I wanted to give myself to that role fully, long before I ever knew who my wife would be. What I did not really consider was that marriage comes with more than vows and shared last names. It comes with in laws. It comes with new siblings. It comes with relationships that stretch and shape you in ways you never anticipated. Preya has a younger sister and an older brother. Her brother has, in many ways, become an older brother to me as well. His wisdom and steady encouragement have meant more to me than he probably realizes. That part felt somewhat familiar since I am the youngest of four. I know what it is like to look up to older brothers. What has been new for me is learning how to be an older brother to her younger sister. I never really had the chance to step into that role before. It has been eye opening, humbling, and at times just plain fun. Recently, Preya and I started teaching her how to play pickleball. This is not another pickleball article, I promise. But something happened during our first session that stayed with me. Preya is left handed. I am right handed. Her sister is right handed too. That small detail did not seem like a big deal until it was time to teach her how to serve. Preya stood opposite her sister, trying to demonstrate, but everything felt backward. What looked natural to her did not translate easily across the net. I stepped in and suggested that Preya demonstrate while I played the role of ball boy, picking up and returning balls as they practiced. Preya kept reminding me, sometimes with frustration, that she was left handed. I would say, “That’s no problem.” If I am honest, it actually was a bit of a problem. Not because she could not teach, but because the angles and perspectives made things harder than they needed to be. Eventually I helped guide the lesson in a way that felt clearer for everyone. At the end of the day, her younger sister said she learned better from Preya. That did not bother me. It actually made me think. Preya’s frustration may not have been about ability at all. It may have been about perspective. It may have been about not seeing immediate results or not getting the feedback she hoped for. Meanwhile, her sister was learning all along. That experience made me think about the church. In the body of Christ, we have left handed people, right handed people, and some who seem spiritually ambidextrous. We have different personalities, different gifts, different approaches. Sometimes we feel perfectly suited for a task. Other times we feel awkward and out of place. Paul addresses this beautifully in 1 Corinthians 12:18–20: “But now God has placed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired. If they were all one member, where would the body be? But now there are many members, but one body.” That verse does two things at once. It humbles us and it comforts us. It reminds us that we are not self assigned. God places. God arranges. God designs. The body needs variety. The church does not need everyone to teach the same way, serve the same way, or even think the same way. It needs faithfulness. Jesus also speaks to this in the parable of the talents. In Matthew 25:21, the master says: “Well done, good and faithful servant. You were faithful with a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.” Notice what is celebrated. Not comparison. Not superiority. Not who had the most. Faithfulness. The one with two talents received the same affirmation as the one with five. The goal was not to outperform someone else. The goal was to use what was entrusted. In ministry, it is easy to slip into quiet competition. Who teaches better. Who preaches stronger. Who connects more naturally. But heaven measures something different. Heaven measures faithfulness. And then there is this gentle reminder from 1 Corinthians 3:6–7: “I planted, Apollos watered, but God was causing the growth. So then neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but God who causes the growth.” Paul is not downplaying effort. He is putting it in perspective. We plant. We water. We serve. But we do not produce life. God does. That changes everything. When Preya was trying to teach her sister, the desired outcome was growth, not recognition. It did not matter who looked more natural in the moment. What mattered was that her sister learned how to serve. The focus had to shift from who was better suited to what would best help her improve. The same is true in the church. If we spend more time arguing over who teaches “better”, who should serve, who should be seen, we miss the point. The outcome we are after is spiritual growth. Maturity. Faithfulness. Christlikeness. There will be moments when one person’s perspective connects better than another’s. That does not diminish anyone. It simply reflects the beauty of a body that works together. Some will plant. Some will water. Some will encourage quietly in the background. Some will step in when angles feel off and perspectives need adjusting. All of it matters. The question is not whether someone else is more effective. The question is whether we are faithful with what God has placed in our hands. So maybe the next time frustration creeps in because a lesson did not land the way we hoped, or someone else seems to connect more naturally, we pause. We remember that growth is the goal. We remember that God gives the increase. And we keep serving. Left handed. Right handed. However He has shaped us. Faithful, together. Before I close, let me say this. If these reflections resonate with you, if they encourage you to serve a little more faithfully where you are, then I am grateful. Truly. Writing these pieces, recording them, praying through them, and sharing them is not just content for me. It is ministry. It is part of how I try to plant and water in the small corner of the field God has given me. Journey With Jesus has always been about helping us think deeply, live faithfully, and serve humbly. If that mission has strengthened your walk in any way, and you feel moved to support the effort, you can do so through my “Buy Me a Coffee” link. Thank you for reading. Thank you for listening. And thank you for walking this road with me. Get full access to Journey With Jesus at singhjonathan78.substack.com/subscribe

    8 min

  7. Feb 12

    Since Someone Among You Is Struggling

    For as long as I can remember, my dad had what we always called “shaking legs.” He would bounce his feet while paying close attention to something or when he was drifting off after a long day of work. It was a habit that soothed him. He rocked me the same way when I was small, and somehow that feeling stuck with me. I still do it today without thinking about it. When Preya and I got married, the habit came with me. She would fall asleep beside me while I rocked my legs, and it became this quiet rhythm we both knew. When I was preaching full time, she often sat alone in worship because I was teaching, leading, praying, or doing something up front. So when we later moved to a congregation where we could finally sit together again, it felt like a gift. We could hold hands, sing side by side, bow in prayer as one. I have not taken that for granted. The funny part is that the same habit that calmed her to sleep at home became the thing that distracted her the most in worship. She takes handwritten notes. I use my phone. I focus. My legs start going. And pretty soon, I am accidentally shaking her too. Every so often, her hand quietly lands on my leg which means, “Stop shaking.” Last Sunday, during the sermon (Click here to Watch), she did it again and I caught myself thinking about how something so small and personal to me could spill over into someone else’s space. Not in a harmful way, but enough to be felt. She would never call it an inconvenience, but it made me reflect on how our habits, struggles, and little quirks often show up in shared spaces. The next day, reflecting on this while doing some studies, is when my mind went back to the book of James. About a year ago, I studied it closely, but certain parts feel louder now than they did then. Especially the questions in James five. In English they read like possibilities. In the original language they read more like realities. James 5:13 begins with, “Is anyone among you suffering?” but it can just as faithfully read, “Since someone among you is suffering.” That changes how you hear it. James is not imagining a chance. He is acknowledging a fact. In any church family, someone is suffering. Someone is cheerful. Someone is sick. Someone is spiritually weak. Someone needs prayer. Someone is carrying shame. Someone is carrying a burden that no one else sees. These are not hypotheticals. They are present realities every time we gather. And even with a common faith, we do not walk into the room with the same emotional temperature. We carry different stories, different battles, and different weights. Before moving further, here is the picture I took that morning. I did not know it would matter later, but it captured the whole moment. Her notes. My Bible. Her hand on my leg. A gentle reminder that we steady each other, even when we are trying to keep each other from shaking the whole pew. It made me realize that in worship, in community, and in life, there is a difference between agreeing with Scripture and actually living it out. We might all believe Galatians 6:2, but living it requires patience, gentleness, and room for each other’s humanity. It means accepting that worship is a shared space filled with people who are trying, hurting, healing, and growing. Weakness is not a disruption. Struggle is not a distraction. Sorrow is not a nuisance. These are the sounds of a family learning the rhythm of grace. As I thought about it more, four passages came to mind. They each call us to something deeper, something compassionate, something active. 1. Romans 12:15 “Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.” Some of us bring celebration into the room. Others bring quiet pain. God calls us to match the moment with love. 2. Galatians 6:2 “Bear one another’s burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ.” This is more than empathy. It is participation. It is stepping into someone else’s weight so they do not carry it alone. 3. James 5:16 “Confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another so that you may be healed.” Healing grows where honesty is safe. James reminds us that sin loses power when confession gains courage. 4. Hebrews 10:24 “Let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds.” Consider means to pause, observe, and respond thoughtfully. It calls us to intentional kindness, not accidental support. All of this brings me back to shaking legs in a church pew. It reminds me that the people around us are not inconveniences. They are reminders that we belong to each other. The church is not a place where strong people gather. It is a place where all people gather to meet a strong Savior. And if we learn to give each other room, patience, and presence, then the things that shake us may become the very things that strengthen us. Closing Invitation Thank you for spending this time with me. If anything in this reflection encouraged you, challenged you, or simply helped you feel a little more seen in your own walk of faith, I am grateful. That is why I write and why I keep showing up in this small corner of the internet. If you would like to support the effort and help me keep sharing these studies, stories, and devotionals, I have a simple “Buy Me a Coffee” link below. No pressure at all. Just an open door for anyone who feels moved to help. Your support, whether through prayer, sharing the article, or contributing, genuinely means more than you know. “Buy Me a Coffee” Thank you for walking this journey with me. Get full access to Journey With Jesus at singhjonathan78.substack.com/subscribe

    6 min

  8. Feb 3

    The Coward, The Conqueror, and The Crowd

    When life presents two paths, most of us feel the pull toward whatever looks easier. It comes so naturally that we barely notice it. We tell ourselves it is preference. We call it personality. We even dress it up as “being practical.” Yet underneath that reaction is a fascinating and frustrating reality. Our brains are usually working harder to keep us comfortable than to help us grow. If you have ever wondered why discipline feels like wading through mud, or why stepping into something new feels heavier than it should, you are not imagining it. Neuroscience tells us that the brain is always scanning for potential threat, potential loss, and potential discomfort. When it senses any combination of those three, it leans toward what requires the least amount of energy. The neuro-economic model explains how our minds weigh effort against reward and often decide that familiar discomfort is better than unfamiliar growth. So here is the question that naturally rises. If the brain is working to preserve energy, if the body is trying to hold on to what feels comfortable, and if the mind is evaluating risk in a way that often exaggerates danger, then is cowardice always a moral failure? Or is it, at least in part, a biological tug of war we were born into? I am not excusing fear. I am saying that understanding its foundation helps us wrestle with it more honestly. It is one thing to call yourself a coward. It is another to realize you are a human being living in a body that pushes back against growth, change, and obedience. If we want real courage, we have to know what we are up against. Which brings me to Scripture. Whenever I study the people we often call heroes, I notice something quietly comforting. None of them began as conquerors. Before the victory came confusion. Before the miracle came fear. Before the moment of obedience came the sting of hesitation. Adam hid among the trees. Abraham tried to secure God’s promise his own way. Jonah boarded the wrong ship in full sprint. Samson’s strength could not mask his weakness. Peter denied with a trembling voice. Paul entered ministry with fear and trembling. Timothy, strong in faith yet young in years, needed encouragement to continue. What I love is that the Bible is honest about these moments. It does not sanitize them. It does not pretend fear is foreign to faith. It shows that the same people who felt terrified are the same people God shaped, formed, strengthened, and used. Their stories remind us that God does not leave the cowardly version of us untouched. He calls, corrects, restores, and empowers. The more I look through Scripture, the more I see a pattern. God never sends someone into a calling without first confronting their fear. He approaches Moses in the wilderness and answers every excuse. He speaks to Joshua and repeats words of strength three times before the journey ever begins. He reassures Gideon with signs, dialogue, and patience. He sends encouragement to Jeremiah even as Jeremiah trembles at his assignment. Human fear and divine strength meet each other constantly throughout the pages of Scripture. And always, in the background, there is the crowd. The crowd cheers David one moment and questions him the next. The crowd tries to crown Jesus after feeding them, then turns against Him at His arrest. The crowd alternates between curiosity, criticism, and confusion. Crowds still do the same today. There will always be someone who misunderstands your hesitation. There will always be someone who misreads your obedience. There will always be someone who critiques your progress or calls you foolish for stepping out in faith. Yet the crowd cannot hear your prayers in the quiet. They do not see your wrestling. They only see moments, and moments rarely tell the whole story. So if the coward lives inside all of us, and the conqueror is who God is shaping us to be, then what do we do in the tension between the two? A few thoughts worth sitting with: The path of least resistance rarely leads to strength. We learn this in every dimension of life. Faith, discipline, and purpose always involve friction. Paul’s reminder that God’s strength is made perfect in weakness teaches us that we can embrace difficulty without being destroyed by it (2 Corinthians 12:7-10). Fear is human. Staying in fear is optional. Jesus tells a parable about a servant who hid his talent out of fear. The fear itself was not the tragedy. The tragedy was what he allowed it to rob him of. Fear can warn us, but it must not parent us (Matthew 25:24-26). The conqueror depends on God, not self. When Paul calls us “earthen vessels,” he is reminding us that fragility is not a flaw. It is the evidence that God’s power is visible. We shine because He works through clay (2 Corinthians 4:6-10). The crowd is loud but not final. Reactions shift. Opinions bend. People forget. God sees the full picture and invites us to come boldly to Him when fear pushes us back (Hebrews 4:12-16). You and I live in the same human tension every person of faith has ever lived in. The coward rises when life feels heavy. The conqueror rises when God strengthens us. The crowd watches, reacts, and often misunderstands. Yet through it all, God remains steady, patient, firm, and present. Thank you. If any of this resonated with you, encouraged you, or helped you make sense of your own internal battles, I am grateful you stayed with me through this reflection. Journey With Jesus continues because of readers and listeners like you who walk this path of faith with honesty, questions, and courage. If you feel moved to support this work and help me keep writing and producing content that builds the soul and strengthens the walk, you can click this “buy me a coffee” link. Your support makes a real difference and helps keep this effort growing. Thank you for reading. Thank you for thinking deeply with me. And thank you for being part of the crowd that chooses encouragement over criticism and faith over fear. Get full access to Journey With Jesus at singhjonathan78.substack.com/subscribe

    8 min
See All (18)

Ratings & Reviews

4
out of 5
4 Ratings

About

A platform dedicated to Christian content aimed at your improvement and spiritual uplift. singhjonathan78.substack.com

Information