Building What the King Is Building

Movement One — Before There Is a Kingdom, There Is a King

There is a subtle danger that has followed Christians throughout every generation.

It is possible to become fascinated with the work of the kingdom while quietly losing sight of the King Himself.

That danger is not new. In fact, it stood right in front of Jesus during His earthly ministry. The Pharisees spoke often about the coming kingdom. They longed for God’s reign to be established. They expected the Messiah to overthrow Rome, restore Israel, and usher in an age of righteousness. Their conversations were filled with questions about when the kingdom would arrive and what it would look like when it came.

The tragedy was not that they desired the kingdom.

The tragedy was that they could not recognize the King standing in front of them.

Luke tells us that the Pharisees asked Jesus when the kingdom of God would come. His answer must have been astonishing. He told them that the kingdom would not come with the kind of outward spectacle they expected. They would not be able to point and say, “Look, there it is,” or, “Here it is.” Then He made a statement that has challenged Christians for centuries: “The kingdom of God is in your midst” (Luke 17:21).

However one understands the finer points of that verse, one reality is unmistakable. The kingdom was present because the King was present.

Everything they had hoped for was standing before them, yet they missed Him because they had become more interested in their expectations than in His authority.

That danger has never disappeared.

It is possible to spend our lives talking about kingdom work, kingdom influence, kingdom culture, kingdom values, and kingdom impact while quietly neglecting the One whose kingdom it actually is. We can become passionate about Christian activity without being deeply submitted to Christ Himself. We can even build impressive ministries while slowly drifting from the lordship of the King.

That is why Jesus ends the Sermon on the Mount with words that should unsettle every one of us.

“Why do you call Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you?” (Luke 6:46).

Notice that Jesus does not begin by asking what they have accomplished.

He does not ask how many people they have influenced.

He does not ask how many sermons they have preached, demons they have cast out, miracles they have witnessed, churches they have planted, or ministries they have led.

He asks a much simpler question.

Why do you call Me Lord while refusing My authority?

That question exposes the foundation beneath every religious life.

Throughout this series we have seen grace reshape the human heart. We began by recognizing that the natural man seeks relief because he cannot yet love Christ. We saw that God grants repentance by giving a new heart. That repentance grew into responsibility as we learned that salvation is not merely rescue from judgment but entrance into a life of discipleship. Responsibility matured into holy obligation as we discovered that we belong not only to Christ but also to His body. Then we considered how the Holy Spirit reshapes our affections, teaching us to love what God loves and to hate what God hates because communion with Him has become precious.

All of that has been preparing us for this moment.

Because none of those realities exist independently.

Relief has no meaning apart from the King who rescues.

Repentance has no meaning apart from the King who forgives.

Responsibility has no meaning apart from the King who commands.

Obligation has no meaning apart from the King who joins His people into one body.

Communion has no meaning apart from the King who reconciles sinners to God.

Everything has been leading here.

The Christian life is not ultimately about becoming a better person.

It is about joyfully living beneath the reign of Jesus Christ.

This is why the New Testament never presents obedience as a detached moral system. Obedience is always personal. We obey because Christ is Lord. We serve because Christ is Lord. We forgive because Christ is Lord. We love because Christ first loved us. We bear burdens because Christ has borne ours. Every command flows from a relationship with the One who has absolute authority over heaven and earth.

Our age resists that idea with all its strength.

We prize autonomy. We celebrate self-determination. We instinctively believe that freedom means answering to no one but ourselves. Even as Christians, we can subtly reshape discipleship into something that leaves us in control. We ask Jesus to bless our plans, strengthen our ambitions, protect our families, and expand our influence, while quietly assuming that we remain the architects of our own lives.

But Jesus never offers Himself as a consultant.

He presents Himself as King.

There is no kingdom without the King, and there is no genuine discipleship without joyful submission to His lordship.

This is not harsh news.

It is glorious news.

The One who claims absolute authority is the same One who bore our judgment, gave us a new heart, welcomed us into His family, and joined us to His body. His authority is not the tyranny of a distant ruler. It is the loving reign of the Shepherd who laid down His life for His sheep.

That changes everything.

The Christian does not ask, “What kingdom can I build for Christ?”

He begins asking a better question.

“What is the King already building, and how can I faithfully spend my life participating in His work?”

That question will carry us through the rest of this lesson, because before we ever consider the work of the kingdom, we must first bow before the King.

Application

Spend some time this week reading through the Gospels and paying attention to one simple question: What does Jesus ask of those who follow Him?

Not what your church expects.

Not what Christian culture celebrates.

Not what your own ambitions desire.

What does the King command?

Then ask yourself honestly:

Do I admire Jesus, or have I truly submitted to Him?

Those are not always the same thing.

The kingdom does not begin when we decide to do great things for Christ.

It begins when we gladly acknowledge that Christ has every right to rule every part of our lives.

Only then can we begin building what the King is building.

The King Builds Through a People

Once we acknowledge that there can be no kingdom without the King, another question immediately follows: How does the King carry out His work in the world?

Our instinct is often to look for something dramatic. We imagine influential leaders, powerful movements, large ministries, remarkable gifts, or visible cultural victories. We assume that kingdom work must look impressive because the kingdom itself is glorious. Yet the New Testament repeatedly directs our attention somewhere more ordinary and, in many ways, more demanding. Christ builds His kingdom through a people who are established upon His truth, joined together in His body, and taught to obey Him in the circumstances He has providentially placed before them.

Jesus closes the Sermon on the Mount with the picture of two builders. Both hear His words. Both construct a house. Both face the same rain, rising flood, and beating wind. Outwardly, the houses may have appeared equally substantial before the storm arrived. The difference was hidden beneath the surface. One man heard the words of Christ and acted upon them, digging deeply until he reached rock. The other heard those same words and did nothing, building directly upon the ground without a foundation.

The storm did not create the difference between the houses. It revealed it.

That is what makes Jesus’ warning so searching. Religious activity alone does not prove that a life is built upon Christ. A person can use Christian language, admire Christian teaching, participate in Christian ministry, and even accomplish things that appear spiritually impressive while refusing the authority of the One whose name he uses. Earlier in Matthew 7, Jesus describes people who will address Him as “Lord, Lord” and point to prophecies, exorcisms, and mighty works performed in His name. Yet He will answer, “I never knew you. Depart from Me, you lawbreakers.”

Their mistake was not inactivity. They had done many things.

Their tragedy was that their works did not arise from a life known by Christ and governed by His will.

This means that before we ask how much we are accomplishing for the kingdom, we must ask whether our lives are being formed by the words of the King. The central question is not whether the house looks impressive before the rain. It is whether the foundation will remain when the flood exposes what lies beneath it.

In Ephesians 2, Paul describes the church as members of God’s household, “built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus Himself as the cornerstone.” The image is precise. Christ is not one spiritual influence among many. He is the cornerstone who determines the direction, stability, and integrity of the entire structure. The apostles and prophets form the foundation because through their authorized testimony the church received the truth concerning Christ. That apostolic witness has been preserved for us in Scripture, and therefore the church does not build by inventing its own message, following every new spiritual fashion, or allowing charismatic personalities to redefine Christianity according to their private impressions.

The King builds His church through His Word.

This does not mean the Holy Spirit is inactive. It means the Spirit who inspired the Word continues to illuminate it, apply it, convict through it, regenerate through its proclamation, and use it to conform Christ’s people to His image. The transformation of a dead heart into a living one is not less supernatural than a visible sign. The Spirit’s work of exposing sin, granting repentance, producing faith, disciplining sons and daughters, and forming a holy people is the continuing miracle at the center of the church’s life.

The earliest Christians understood this. Acts 2 tells us that those who were added to the church devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer. Their kingdom life was not built around endless novelty. It was sustained through truth, communion, worship, and dependence upon God. The risen Christ was actively building His church, but He was doing so through means that could easily appear ordinary to people looking only for spectacle.

This pattern continues in Ephesians 4. Paul says that the ascended Christ gave apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers to His church. Those distinctions matter, and Scripture does not give us permission to erase them. The apostles and prophets served a foundational role in the establishment of the church, while evangelists, pastors, and teachers continue to proclaim the gospel, shepherd God’s people, and instruct them in the truth. Yet Paul’s emphasis does not remain upon the titles or status of the gifted leaders. He immediately tells us why Christ gave them: “to equip the saints for the work of ministry, to build up the body of Christ.”

The leaders equip.

The saints minister.

The body grows.

Paul is not mainly inviting every Christian to discover a prestigious ministry label. He is showing how the King supplies His church so that the entire body becomes mature and useful. The goal is not that a few gifted individuals become elevated above everyone else, but that all the saints are brought into unity of faith, knowledge of Christ, doctrinal stability, truthful love, and active service. The passage reaches its conclusion when Paul says that the whole body grows and builds itself up in love “by the proper working of each individual part.”

That phrase protects us from two opposite errors. The first is the elevation of leaders into places that belong only to Christ. Ministers are gifts from the King, but they are not the King. They are not mediators between Christ and His people, and their gifts do not make them the source of spiritual life. Their authority is real but limited, ministerial rather than ultimate, and always accountable to the Word of Christ.

The second error is passive membership. If leaders are given to equip the saints, then the saints are expected to become equipped and to serve. The church is not an audience gathered to observe a few people carry out spiritual work. It is a body in which every genuine member receives grace that is meant to strengthen someone else.

This is where kingdom life becomes deeply communal. Christ does not merely rescue individuals and send them back into isolated existence with improved morals. He gathers them into a people. He gives them pastors and teachers. He places older saints near younger saints, strong believers near weak ones, comforted sufferers near those who are grieving, and mature Christians near those who still need patient instruction. Through these providential relationships, He exposes pride, teaches forgiveness, develops endurance, and forms love that could never grow in isolation.

Marriage can become such a place of sanctification because two sinners are brought into a covenant where self-protection, impatience, pride, and selfishness are constantly exposed. Life in the church works similarly. Relationships within the body create circumstances in which our profession of love must become actual patience, actual forgiveness, actual burden-bearing, and actual sacrifice. Communion is not simply warm fellowship among compatible people. It is one of the primary workshops in which the King forms His people into the likeness of Christ.

That is also why withdrawal can become spiritually dangerous. There are legitimate reasons to establish boundaries, escape abuse, practice church discipline, or separate from false teaching. Scripture does not require someone to remain in circumstances that protect evil. But many forms of withdrawal have nothing to do with biblical wisdom.

We pull away because we are offended. We avoid people because correction is uncomfortable. We disappear because relationships have become costly. We emotionally abandon a spouse, a friend, or a church member because remaining present would require humility.

In those moments, the flesh often presents abandonment as peace.

Christ calls us toward faithful communion.

Again, the issue is not that we earn salvation by maintaining relationships. The issue is that the King who reconciled us to Himself begins producing a reconciling life within us. A person rooted in Christ increasingly moves toward truth, confession, forgiveness, patience, and restoration rather than constantly protecting the self through distance.

The church becomes the place where kingdom life is practiced before it is proclaimed to the world. Jesus told His disciples that the world would know they belonged to Him by their love for one another. That love does not replace the preaching of the gospel, but it adorns and confirms it. A church that speaks of reconciliation while devouring itself through pride, gossip, rivalry, and abandonment contradicts its own message. A church in which sinners confess, forgive, bear burdens, teach truth, and serve one another gives visible form to the reign of Christ.

This does not mean the church will ever be free from difficulty in this age. The rain falls upon both houses. Faithful Christians still suffer. Churches experience conflict. Ministers disappoint people. Members fail one another. Bodies become sick, finances collapse, prayers appear unanswered, and believers sometimes endure long seasons of grief. Jesus never promised that obedience would create a life untouched by storms.

He promised something greater.

The life founded upon His Word will stand.

That promise frees the church from the false gospel of success. We do not measure the presence of the kingdom by wealth, popularity, physical ease, or the absence of suffering. God may be glorified through a growing congregation, but He may also be glorified through a small and faithful church that continues preaching the truth while the culture rejects it. He may be glorified through healing, but He is also glorified when suffering saints remain faithful in weakness. He may prosper a Christian’s work, or He may use failure to destroy pride and deepen dependence.

The foundation is not proved by the absence of wind.

It is proved by endurance beneath it.

This changes how we think about kingdom work. We are not called to manufacture visible success so that God appears impressive through us. We are called to hear the King, obey the King, remain rooted in His Word, and faithfully serve the people He has placed around us. The outcome belongs to Him.

A mother teaching her children Scripture may be participating in kingdom work no less truly than the preacher standing before a congregation. A Christian employer who treats workers justly, keeps promises, and refuses dishonest gain is living beneath the reign of Christ. A church member who quietly cares for a widow, visits the sick, encourages a wavering believer, or patiently disciples a younger Christian is strengthening what the King is building. A musician who refuses to use worship as a platform for self-exaltation, a businessman who offers his work to God, or a suffering believer who continues trusting Christ through pain may all be displaying the kingdom in ways that attract little attention on earth.

The King does not require every servant to perform the same task. He requires faithfulness with what each has received.

This is the beauty of the body. The parts are different, but the source is one. The ministries vary, but the King supplies them all. Some proclaim publicly. Others teach quietly. Some shepherd congregations. Others bear witness across a kitchen table. Some lead. Others strengthen the work through prayer, generosity, administration, mercy, hospitality, craftsmanship, or steady presence. No faithful service is insignificant when it arises from obedience to Christ and is offered for the good of His people.

We should therefore be cautious of both self-importance and false humility. Self-importance says, “The kingdom needs me because my gift is exceptional.” False humility says, “The kingdom has no use for me because my gift is ordinary.” Grace answers both errors by reminding us that every gift was received, every opportunity was providentially given, and every faithful result is produced by God.

The King is the source.

The King assigns the work.

The King supplies the strength.

The King receives the glory.

Our responsibility is to remain available to Him.

Application

Before asking what great work you might accomplish for Christ, begin with the people and responsibilities He has already placed before you. Ask whether you are receiving the apostolic Word with a willingness to obey it. Ask whether you are becoming easier to teach, more dependable in service, more patient with weakness, quicker to confess, and more willing to bear another person’s burden.

Consider the church where God has placed you. Are you merely attending, or are you becoming a functioning member of the body? Are you waiting for a title before serving, or are you responding to needs with whatever grace God has supplied? Are you tempted to elevate certain leaders beyond their biblical role, or are you equally tempted to resist the very leaders Christ has given to equip you?

Then examine the foundation beneath your activity. Is your service the overflow of communion with Christ and submission to His Word, or is it another attempt to build a name, secure approval, or prove your importance?

Christ is building His church, and He has chosen to involve ordinary saints in that glorious work. Our calling is not to become impressive builders. It is to remain faithful stones in the house He is constructing, living beneath the authority of His Word, joined to His people, and available for whatever purpose the King assigns.

Living for the Kingdom That Cannot Be Shaken

Once we understand that Jesus is the King and that He builds through a people established upon His Word, the final question is no longer whether our lives will be spent building something. Every person is building. We are forming households, shaping relationships, using resources, developing habits, influencing people, and investing our limited years in some vision of what matters. The question is whether we are building private kingdoms that will collapse when the storm comes or spending our lives in faithful service to the kingdom Christ has already established and will one day bring to completion.

This distinction matters because kingdom language can be used while self remains at the center. A person can build a ministry, a reputation, a business, an audience, or a movement and call it kingdom work while quietly using the name of Christ to strengthen his own identity. He may speak often about influence, impact, vision, and calling, but the deeper ambition may still be to become important, secure, admired, or indispensable. The materials may look Christian while the structure still belongs to the builder.

Jesus does not invite us to attach His name to our ambitions. He calls us to lose our lives beneath His reign.

In Luke 17, the Pharisees asked Jesus when the kingdom of God would come. They were looking for an outward display that could be easily identified, perhaps imagining the overthrow of Rome and the restoration of national power. Jesus answered that the kingdom was not coming in the manner they expected. They would not point and say, “Look here,” or, “Look there,” because the kingdom was already in their midst.

The King was standing before them, and they did not recognize Him.

That is one of the great tragedies of the Gospels. Men who claimed to long for God’s kingdom rejected God’s King because He did not conform to the kingdom they had imagined. They wanted power without repentance, victory without the cross, and national restoration without surrender to Christ. They were prepared to receive a Messiah who would defeat their visible enemies, but not one who first exposed the enemy within their own hearts.

We face the same danger whenever we become more interested in what Christ might accomplish through us than in whether we are actually living under His authority. We can become fascinated with changing culture while neglecting repentance. We can speak about Christian influence while failing to love the people in our own congregation. We can imagine great purposes for our lives while resisting ordinary obedience in our homes, workplaces, and relationships.

Kingdom life begins much closer than our ambitions usually imagine.

It begins when a husband loves his wife as Christ loved the church. It begins when a wife walks in faithfulness, wisdom, and love. It begins when parents teach their children the Word and model repentance before them. It begins when Christians keep their promises, speak truth, refuse dishonest gain, forgive those who offend them, welcome the lonely, care for the weak, and use their gifts to strengthen the body. It begins wherever the authority of Christ is received as good and His commands become the pattern of ordinary life.

This does not make the kingdom merely private or inward. The reign of Christ reaches outward into every part of creation and every lawful calling. But the kingdom does not advance through Christians grasping for worldly power in the name of Jesus. It advances as the gospel is proclaimed, sinners are brought under the lordship of Christ, disciples are formed, churches are strengthened, families are ordered beneath Scripture, mercy is shown, truth is defended, and ordinary believers live faithfully wherever God has providentially placed them.

The kingdom is not a project we invent. It is the reign of the risen Christ into which we have been graciously brought.

This gives Christian work both dignity and humility. It gives dignity because nothing offered faithfully to the King is insignificant. A cup of cold water, a quiet prayer, a faithful conversation, a meal given in hospitality, an hour spent teaching a child, or a difficult act of forgiveness may have no public glory, yet Christ receives them as service rendered beneath His rule. It gives humility because no act of service makes us the source of the kingdom’s power. We plant and water, but God gives the growth. We bear witness, but God opens the heart. We preach, teach, encourage, and serve, but Christ alone builds His church.

That distinction protects us from despair when the results are small and from pride when the results appear large.

If visible success were the measure of kingdom faithfulness, then many of the prophets would appear to have failed. Jeremiah preached to a people who largely refused to hear him. Isaiah was told that his ministry would expose hardened hearts. Paul planted churches while enduring rejection, imprisonment, beatings, poverty, and eventual death. Christ Himself was abandoned by crowds, betrayed by one disciple, denied by another, and crucified by the very people among whom He had ministered.

Yet none of them failed.

Faithfulness is not measured by how impressive the house appears before the storm. It is measured by whether the life is built upon the Word of the King and remains obedient when the rain falls, the floods rise, and the winds beat against it.

The same storm comes to both houses. Jesus never promises that kingdom citizens will avoid suffering. Christians experience cancer, poverty, miscarriages, family conflict, disappointment, persecution, grief, and death. They may pray faithfully and still watch someone they love suffer. They may conduct business honestly and still lose it. They may teach their children truth and watch those children wander. They may labor in ministry for years without seeing the fruit they hoped to see.

The difference is not that the Christian avoids the storm. The difference is that the Christian’s hope does not collapse beneath it.

This is why we must never present the gospel as a method for obtaining a more comfortable life. Christ is not a principle that makes our plans succeed. He is the King before whom every plan must bow. His promise is not that obedience will shield us from every earthly sorrow. His promise is that nothing can separate His people from His love, no labor performed in Him is wasted, and the kingdom He gives cannot be shaken.

That assurance creates courage. We do not need to manipulate outcomes because the kingdom does not depend upon our control. We do not need to attach our worth to visible success because our identity rests in Christ. We do not need to retreat when obedience becomes costly because even death cannot remove us from the King’s hand. The Christian can risk comfort, reputation, security, and even life itself because the resurrection has already declared that loss in Christ is never final.

Jesus presses this urgency in Luke 17 by recalling the days of Noah and Lot. People were eating, drinking, marrying, buying, selling, planting, and building. None of those ordinary activities were inherently sinful. The danger was that life continued as though judgment would never come. People became absorbed in ordinary existence while remaining unprepared to meet God.

Then the flood came.

Then fire fell.

Judgment did not ask whether the people had expected it. It arrived according to the purpose of God.

Jesus therefore warns His hearers not to cling to the life they have built as though it were ultimate. “Remember Lot’s wife.” She physically left Sodom, but her heart remained attached to what she was leaving behind. Her backward glance exposed a divided allegiance. She wanted rescue from judgment while still longing for the world under judgment.

That brings us directly back to where this series began.

Relief wants to escape destruction while preserving the old life.

Repentance turns from the old life toward Christ.

Responsibility begins living beneath His lordship.

Holy obligation recognizes that we belong to His body.

Communion teaches us to love what He loves, hate what destroys fellowship, and protect what His blood purchased.

Kingdom life takes all of that grace and turns it outward in faithful allegiance to the King.

This is not a ladder by which we climb into salvation. It is the life that saving grace produces. God does not rescue us from judgment and then return us to the pursuit of private kingdoms. He brings us beneath the reign of His Son, joins us to His people, reshapes our loves, entrusts us with gifts, and sends us into the world as witnesses to a kingdom already present in Christ and awaiting its final revelation.

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The kingdom is already here because the King has come. Jesus has defeated sin, borne judgment, risen from the dead, ascended to the Father’s right hand, and poured out His Spirit upon His church. He reigns now. Yet the kingdom is not present in its final fullness. We still pray, “Your kingdom come,” because we await the day when Christ returns openly, every enemy is placed beneath His feet, every false kingdom falls, and what is presently received by faith is revealed before all creation.

That “already and not yet” reality guards us from two errors. It prevents triumphalism because we know we have not been commissioned to create heaven on earth through human strength. The church still suffers, waits, witnesses, and longs for the return of Christ. At the same time, it prevents despair because the kingdom is not a fragile possibility dependent upon our success. The King has already conquered the grave, and His final victory is certain.

Therefore, Christian kingdom work is neither frantic activism nor passive waiting. It is faithful presence beneath the reign of Christ. We proclaim the gospel because the King saves. We make disciples because He commanded it. We strengthen the church because He loves His bride. We pursue justice and mercy because His character defines righteousness. We work honestly because our labor belongs to Him. We create beauty because creation declares His glory. We endure suffering because His kingdom cannot be taken from us. We call sinners to repentance because the King is merciful and because judgment is real.

This also dissolves the sacred and secular division that has weakened so much of the church. There are different callings, settings, and responsibilities, but there are no territories outside the authority of Christ. The church gathering belongs to Him, but so does Monday morning. Preaching belongs to Him, but so do carpentry, technology, music, accounting, parenting, caregiving, hospitality, and business. The Christian does not leave the kingdom when he walks out of the church building. He carries allegiance to the King into every lawful part of life.

Kingdom living does not mean placing religious language on every task. It means performing every task with faithfulness to Christ, love for neighbor, submission to Scripture, and a willingness to use whatever He has entrusted for His glory. A business becomes kingdom service not because it puts a Bible verse on its advertisements, but because it operates with honesty, justice, generosity, and love beneath Christ’s authority. Music becomes kingdom service not because it is performed in a church, but because the musician refuses self-exaltation and offers his gift faithfully to God. A home becomes a place of kingdom life when its members confess, forgive, serve, worship, and welcome others beneath the lordship of Christ.

The kingdom is displayed wherever the will of the King is gladly obeyed.

This should fill the Christian with joy rather than anxiety. Christ has not commanded every believer to become famous, build a large ministry, or accomplish something history will remember. He calls us to faithfulness. The ordinary life surrendered to an extraordinary King becomes holy ground. The smallest act performed in love can serve purposes we may never see until eternity.

We do not need to become the cornerstone. Christ already is.

We do not need to invent the foundation. The apostolic Word has been given.

We do not need to construct the kingdom through our strength. The King is building His church.

We are called to hear His words, obey them, love His people, proclaim His gospel, and faithfully use what He has placed in our hands until He comes.

Application

Begin by asking what you are building. Consider your family, work, ministry, finances, ambitions, relationships, and use of time. What vision of life are these things serving? Are they being arranged beneath the reign of Christ, or are they pieces of a private kingdom bearing Christian decorations?

Then ask what you are building on. Do the words of Christ merely inform your opinions, or do they govern your decisions? Are you using biblical principles as tools to achieve your own goals, or are you submitting your goals to Scripture? When obedience becomes costly, does Christ remain Lord, or do comfort and self-preservation quietly

regain control?

Finally, ask what the King has already placed before you. You may not need a larger platform, a clearer title, or a dramatic calling. You may need to love the people already near you, serve the church where you are planted, speak the gospel to the person in front of you, reconcile a damaged relationship, open your home, use your gift, keep your promise, endure your trial faithfully, or place an ordinary part of your life beneath Christ’s authority.

Do not wait to become impressive before becoming faithful.

The King is reigning. His kingdom is present. His Word is sure. His church is being built. His return is certain. Spend your life serving what He is building, and build upon the Rock that no flood can move.

-Justin Reed

Brushwood Press