I passed this heron during a quiet morning walk on my Sabbath rest day.
Still. Watchful. Unhurried.
It felt like a small parable—present, alert, unafraid of silence.
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Why Church-Planting Is So Relationally Challenging
I love the puzzling challenges of church planting, not so much the programs or logistics, but the people.
Helping some people learn to relate well to God by relating well to one another.
And then—helping those leaders pass it on without breaking trust, relationships, or themselves.
In 2024, I completed a research project on servant leadership.
One theme rose above all others.
When leaders courageously embraced awkward conversations, things tended to pass on to the next generation better. Not perfectly. But redemptively.
In Psalm 4, we see that King David learned the same lesson long ago… and wrote a song about it.
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Greater Joy Than “Their” Harvest Festivals
We live in a culture of harvest festivals. Not literal grain and wine—but weekend getaways, promotions, curated photos and reels for social media, and moments that sparkle brightly and disappear just as fast.
David knew that world, too.
In Psalm 4, he’s surrounded by fellow covenant members who have shamed him— “turning my honor into reproach,” loving worthless status, chasing lies that only look like truth (v.2).
From the outside, their grain and wine seem to be multiplying. David’s faithfulness, by contrast, looks costly—and unrewarded.
Then comes the stunning line:
“You have put gladness in my heart, more than when their grain and new wine abound.” (Psalm 4:7)
David isn’t claiming detachment or spiritual stoicism. He’s claiming something better— a deeper, steadier joy that lasts past the festival lights and carries him into peaceful sleep.
How?
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A Movie Script
Imagine the Psalms are written in a movie script format. Who is talking to whom? How would a movie producer portray this image?
In this song, David starts by talking directly to God. Secondly, he sings to “sons of man” who have done something unethical. Finally, David closes by singing to God again.
Questions:
What was David’s posture? What was his tone?
Did he switch from pleading to fury and back to pleading? Did he feel desperate and hopeless?
Or was he the best version of himself, fully confident, possibly weeping, trying to get back to right relationship with his family, brothers, or formerly close friends?
Something else?
The song invites us to reflect on these questions “in our hearts, upon our beds, in stillness” (v. 4).
The Foundation: God’s Favor
David opens with identity, not argument:
“Answer me, O God of my righteousness.” (v.1)
David states that he calls on God because he treats people right. Righteousness. It’s covenant grounding.
God has set apart the faithful for Himself. God hears when they call (v.3).
Even when others distort truth or diminish him, David’s security rests in divine relationship—not public approval.
The Radical Path: Awkward Conversations
Here’s what makes this psalm remarkable.
David does not withdraw from those who offended him. He does not explode. He does not triangulate.
He speaks directly to those who have wronged him.
“O sons of men, how long will my honor be turned to reproach?” (v.2)
No gossip. No silent treatment. No recruiting allies.
And then—astonishingly—he shows them the way back.
Seven Movements of Redemptive Confrontation
David models what righteousness looks like in real time:
He speaks directly to those who hurt him (v.2)
He reminds them of covenant reality, not personal offense (v.3)
He calls them to humility before God, not submission to himself (v.4a)
He teaches stillness and self-reflection (v.4b)
He names what pleases God—“sacrifices of righteousness” (v.5a)
He redirects trust toward YHWH, not appearances (v.5b)
He paints the outcome—joy, peace, safety (vv.6–8)
This is righteousness as relational courage. Not self-protection, but restoration.
Why This Produces Deeper Joy
In Biblical thought, righteousness is not abstract morality—it’s right relationship with God and others, as far as it depends on you.
David absorbs the cost. Forgives dishonor. Releases resentment. Trusts God with vindication.
That trust produces gladness— a joy that survives the bed-test of stillness at night (v.4).
When the noise fades, can you still say: “There is gladness in my heart”?
David can.
What This Way of Life Produces
God relieves distress (v.1)
God hears when we call (v.3)
We see life in the light of God’s face (v.6)
We experience joy deeper than visible success (v.7)
We rest without defensive anxiety (v.8)
We live with a sense of divine safety (v.8)
Taken together, awkward conversations pursued in righteousness don’t shrink our lives.
They expand them.
Three Invitations
1. Anchor in God’s favor. Your security is covenantal, not performative.
2. Risk the awkward conversations. Speak directly. Don’t triangulate. Point toward restoration. Remember: obedience is yours; outcomes are God’s.
3. Try the bed-test tonight. In stillness, ask: Where is my joy sourced? Have I done what I can to pursue right relationships?
Then take one small step tomorrow. Watch what God does with it.
“You have put gladness in my heart, more than when their grain and new wine abound.”
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Deanna’s Journey to Healing
Deanna celebrated her birthday and her “cancer-free” milestone with her sisters-in-law, Karen and Marianne.
Today marked the fifth radiation treatment and the second medical appointment. She’s progressing well—only a light sunburn effect so far.
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A Seasonal Turn
On January 31, I leave Abbotsford—likely returning in the fall. Deanna will join me in Brazil in late May, after her final targeted therapy.
Leaving never gets easier. But like a fridge magnet—once you pull free, alignment comes again.
God has work for us to do.
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Prayer Requests
Deanna’s complete recovery
The sale of the mission property in Marabá
Wisdom and grace in my final days in Abbotsford
The upcoming conference in Texas and the people we’ll meet
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A Final Blessing
For the courage to speak, and the peace to rest.
May God quiet your heart when silence feels heavy.
May He give you courage when love requires an awkward word.
May your obedience outpace your fear, and your trust outlast the night.
And when you lie down, while the world chases festivals, may gladness find you— deeper than success, steadier than applause, rooted in the God who keeps covenant for real.
Amen.
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This was the day some weeks ago, when Deanna rang the bell in the cancer ward, celebrating her last chemo day.
