After the waters of the Jordan receded and Israel stood safely on the other side, God did not rush His people forward into the next battle—He called them to stop and remember. Joshua 4 reminds us that while God delights in doing powerful works for His people, He also knows how quickly our hearts forget what our eyes have seen. Before Israel could advance into the Promised Land, they were commanded to build a memorial—visible, intentional, and lasting—so future generations would know that the Lord had acted, kept His promises, and revealed His glory. As we open this chapter, we are invited to see that remembering God’s work is not about living in the past, but about anchoring our present faith and future obedience in the unchanging faithfulness of a God who always accomplishes His purposes.

Every believer comes to moments when God’s promises are clear, His presence is near, yet a daunting barrier still stands in the way—and for Israel, that moment arrived on the banks of the Jordan River. Behind them lay years of wandering and failure; before them surged a flooded river separating them from everything God had promised. In Joshua 3, we discover that entering the land of promise is not about strength, strategy, or certainty, but about eyes fixed on the Lord, hearts consecrated for His work, and feet willing to step forward in obedience before the way is clear. As we walk through this pivotal chapter, we will see that God still calls His people to cross their Jordans the same way today—not by sight, but by faith that follows His presence, trusts His Word, and moves when He says to move.

When we think of heroes of faith, we usually imagine people with clean résumés, impressive obedience, and long histories of walking with God—but Hebrews 11 confronts us with a name that shatters those assumptions: Rahab the prostitute. How does a Gentile woman from a pagan city under judgment end up in Scripture’s Hall of Faith? Joshua 2 tells the story of a woman with no religious background, no moral credibility, and no apparent future, who nevertheless believed that the God of Israel was the one true God and cast herself entirely on His mercy. As Israel stands on the edge of the Promised Land, Rahab’s unlikely faith reminds us that salvation has never been about pedigree or performance, but about humble trust in a gracious God—and that no one who reaches for His mercy is ever beyond redemption.

Few moments test our faith like standing at the base of a mountain we did not choose, carrying a responsibility that feels bigger than our strength and heavier than our experience. That is where Joshua finds himself in Joshua 1—Moses is gone, the people are watching, and the promise of God lies on the other side of an intimidating frontier. Yet God does not begin by lowering the mountains; He begins by clarifying the calling, reaffirming His presence, and commanding courage rooted in obedience to His Word. As we continue our journey through Joshua, this passage reminds us that possessing God’s promises does not come through confidence in ourselves, but through trusting a God who goes with us, speaks clearly to us, and calls us to move forward—step by obedient step—into the terrain He has already declared as ours.

Life is full of transitions—new seasons, new responsibilities, and new arenas where the stakes feel higher and the challenges feel bigger than before. Israel finds itself in that very moment at the opening of the book of Joshua: standing on the edge of the Promised Land, with Moses gone, fear in their history, and a future that demands faith. Like the underdog team in Hoosiers stepping onto a much bigger court, God’s people are reminded that while the arena has changed, the fundamentals have not. God is still faithful, His promises are still sure, and walking with Him still requires trust and obedience. As we begin this series in Joshua, we will see that possessing God’s promises doesn’t require a heroic résumé—it requires a people willing to know Him, trust Him, and take faithful steps forward into the places He has already promised.

In Matthew 16, Jesus calls His followers to a way of life that is far more demanding than we often imagine: “If anyone wants to follow after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” For the first hearers, the cross was not a poetic symbol—it was a sentence of death, a declaration that one’s life no longer belonged to oneself. This Christmas season, when we often picture the birth of Christ as quiet and serene, the story of Joseph invites us to look deeper. Joseph’s obedience was costly, misunderstood, and deeply sacrificial, yet it became a living picture of what it truly means to take up the cross. As we walk through Joseph’s story today, we will see that following Jesus requires surrender, demands sacrifice, and draws its strength from trusting a God who is not distant, but “with us.”

In a world marked by outrage, slander, and constant conflict, Paul’s closing words to Titus sound almost impossibly countercultural: submit, obey, be ready for good works, and always show gentleness to all people. This final message in our Titus series reminds us that Christian conduct is not driven by cultural pressure or moral superiority, but by gospel transformation—by remembering who we once were and what God, in sheer mercy, has done for us in Christ. Before Scripture calls us to act, it calls us to behold the kindness of God that saved us when we were foolish, enslaved, and hostile. As we look at Titus 3, we will see that the only way we can disagree without dishonor, live with humility under authority, and show gentleness to all is by living out of the radical grace that first rescued and renewed us.

So many of us have felt the weight of being told what God expects without ever understanding how God enables it—and the result is often frustration or pretense. Titus 2 reminds us that the Christian life is not fueled by our willpower but by God’s grace, a grace that has appeared in Jesus Christ to redeem us, instruct us, and anchor us in the hope of His return. In these verses Paul shows that everything God commands, He Himself empowers; the same grace that saves us is the grace that shapes us. As we look at Titus 2:11–15, we discover that the Christian life begins with grace, continues by grace, and is ultimately carried home by grace.

In Titus 2, Paul paints a picture of a church whose everyday lives testify to the transforming power of God’s grace. In contrast to the chaos and empty talk of Crete’s false teachers, believers are called to live in a way that “accords with sound doctrine”—not as an exercise in moral self-improvement, but as a grateful response to the grace that has appeared in Jesus Christ. Here, Paul speaks to older men and women, to younger women and young men, and even to workers, showing that the gospel reshapes every corner of ordinary life: our homes, our relationships, and our daily responsibilities. Titus 2 reminds us that the world may debate our beliefs, but it cannot ignore lives that have been genuinely changed by grace—lives that quietly, consistently “adorn the doctrine of God our Savior” in everything.