When You Feel Like a Mess — Courageous Faith and Obedience That Changes Generations

 

There are seasons when you know what is true about God — but you don’t feel strong. Your thoughts believe, but your emotions feel tangled. Your past feels loud. Your present feels small. You wonder whether your obedience could possibly matter when your life feels messy.

The story of Rahab speaks directly into that place.

Her story is not about polished faith — it is about courageous action taken in the middle of a complicated life. She shows us that when we believe what God has done in the past, we can trust our future into His hands — and act — even when we don’t feel strong, qualified, or ready.

This is not a children’s story. Historically and spiritually, it is one of the most dramatic acts of personal faith in the Old Testament.

Let’s walk it fully — historically, culturally, and spiritually — and see why her obedience was anything but small.

Rahab lived in Jericho, one of the oldest fortified cities in the ancient world. This was not a small village — it was a military stronghold guarding a key entry into the land of Canaan.

Archaeological excavations show Jericho had:

• Massive double defensive walls
• A stone retaining wall about 12–15 feet high
• A mudbrick wall above it approximately 6 feet thick
• An additional upper wall forming a layered defense system
• Houses built into or on top of wall sections
• Gate-centered commercial and military traffic zones

Scripture confirms Rahab’s home was part of this wall structure:

But she had brought them up to the roof… for her house was built into the city wall, so that she lived in the wall.” — Joshua 2:6,15 (ESV)

This location was not accidental — it connects directly to her profession and her visibility in the city.

Jericho was not simply politically opposed to Israel — it was spiritually corrupt in deeply entrenched ways.

Canaanite religious culture commonly included:

• Worship of multiple gods and fertility deities
• Ritual sexual practices connected to worship
• Temple prostitution systems
• Occult and divination rites
• Documented patterns of child and human sacrifice in surrounding Canaanite regions
• Ritual acts intended to secure wealth, fertility, and military success

God had warned for generations that such cultures would face judgment because of persistent, unrepentant corruption (Deuteronomy 9:4–5, ESV).

Jericho represented a spiritual stronghold — not merely a political one.

And inside that system — Rahab believed the truth about the Lord.

Scripture introduces her plainly:

…they went and came into the house of a prostitute whose name was Rahab… — Joshua 2:1 (ESV)

In ancient fortified cities, prostitution and lodging services were often located near the gate and wall district — where travelers, traders, and soldiers passed. This means Rahab was likely:

• Known to military personnel
• Known to civic authorities
• Known within political circles
• Socially visible — not hidden

Her decision to hide Israelite spies was not private bravery — it was public-risk bravery.

If discovered, she would likely have been executed for treason.

Her background was messy — but her faith became decisive.

Israel, under Joshua, sent two spies into Jericho. They came to Rahab’s house. When city officials came searching, Rahab hid them and misdirected the authorities.

This was a life-or-death choice.

She acted without:

• theological training
• covenant membership
• moral reputation
• emotional reassurance
• community support

She acted because she believed what she heard about God.

Rahab’s words are one of the clearest faith statements in the Old Testament:

“I know that the LORD has given you the land… for the LORD your God, he is God in the heavens above and on the earth beneath. — Joshua 2:9,11 (ESV)

She did not say:

• I feel ready
• I feel holy
• I feel strong

She said: I know.

Her faith was anchored in reported history:

For we have heard how the LORD dried up the water of the Red Sea…” — Joshua 2:10 (ESV)

She built her present decision on God’s past acts.

This is crucial for us when we feel spiritually weak:
Look backward at God’s faithfulness before judging your present usefulness.

Excavations at Jericho show a striking detail from one destruction layer:

• Mudbrick walls collapsed outward
• Bricks formed a ramp-like slope at the base
• Attackers could have gone straight up into the city
• Portions of wall structures appear to have remained standing

This aligns closely with the biblical record:

And the wall fell down flat, so that the people went up into the city, every man straight before him…— Joshua 6:20 (ESV)

If sections of wall-housing remained while surrounding walls collapsed, that would fit the preservation of Rahab’s household.

The spies instructed Rahab:

You shall tie this scarlet cord in the window… — Joshua 2:18 (ESV)

The Hebrew word for cord (tiqvah) also means hope.

Her hope was not abstract — it was visible and obedient. She marked her window before the battle, before the miracle, before the victory.

Not only that, the thread was red with clear purpose. Red represents sin and blood—the very means by which we are freed from the power and consequences of sin and evil. Throughout the Old Testament, every sign and symbol points ahead to what Jesus would accomplish. And in the New Testament, everything looks back to Jesus—who He is, what He did, and the salvation He secured--release from the effects of our sin and evil.

She obeyed before she saw proof.

Many acts of obedience feel like that:

• continuing to pray
• continuing to speak truth
• continuing to serve
• continuing to open your home
• continuing to witness

You hang the cord before the walls fall.

Rahab risked:

• Execution for treason
• Exposure by neighbors
• Government punishment
• Loss of income
• Loss of protection
• Social retaliation

Her profession meant she was recognized — not invisible. Her action would be noticed if discovered.

When you feel like your obedience is small — remember — heaven often measures differently than we do.

Rahab and her family were spared:

But Rahab the prostitute and her father’s household and all who belonged to her, Joshua saved alive. — Joshua 6:25 (ESV)

She was brought into Israel — not as an outsider forever — but as part of the people.

Her story did not end with survival — it began with redemption.

Rahab later married into Israelite life. Generations later, she became an ancestor of King David — and ultimately part of the lineage of Jesus Christ:

…Salmon the father of Boaz by Rahab…— Matthew 1:5 (ESV)

She could not see that future when she hid the spies.

You cannot see the full reach of your obedience either.

Your present faithfulness may be shaping futures you will never personally witness.

Rahab is honored in the New Testament:

By faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish… — Hebrews 11:31 (ESV)

…Rahab the prostitute justified by works when she received the messengers… — James 2:25 (ESV)

Scripture keeps her past label visible — not to shame her — but to magnify grace.

Faith is not clean — it is directional.

Rahab’s story tells you:

You can feel messy and still act faithfully.
You can feel weak and still make the right choice.
You can feel small and still change a family line.

Believe what God has done.
Trust what that reveals about His character.
Act on truth — not emotional strength.

Hang the cord.
Tell the truth.
Protect the message.
Welcome the messengers.

You do not know how far your obedience reaches — but God does.

Which Light Am I Looking For — the Refrigerator, Headlight, or God's Light? Reflection on Valentines Day and what it takes to stay married

 

Self-discipline is not an easy word to embrace. It pushes against comfort, quick relief, and the human desire to have everything now. But as I’ve grown in faith, I’ve come to see that discipline is not about restriction—it’s about direction. It’s a way of saying, “Lord, I trust You enough to follow Your wisdom instead of my impulses.”

Self-discipline is, at its heart, an act of yielding. It’s laying down our will so that God can shape our choices, our habits, and even our physical desires to align with His truth. It’s about preparing for tomorrow—financially, physically, and spiritually—so we can walk faithfully in what He has prepared for us.

The Greek word skandalon—translated as “stumbling block” or “offense”—literally means to entice into a snare or trap. It paints a vivid picture of how sin operates. Rarely does temptation present itself as something harmful. Instead, it lures us with comfort, convenience, or control—offering quick satisfaction at the cost of long-term peace.

That snare might come in the form of overspending when stress hits, overeating to soothe emotions, or turning to a substance that dulls the pain of a weary body or mind. It can be as subtle as overmedicating to avoid discomfort or as spiritual as excusing sin under the banner of “just surviving.”

Yet every shortcut comes with a price. Sin and self-indulgence promise ease but lead to bondage. Jesus warned of this when He said, “If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off… It is better for you to enter life crippled than with two hands to go to hell.” (Mark 9:43, ESV) His words are not about physical harm—they are a call to radical separation from whatever entangles the soul.

Real self-discipline is not punishment—it’s protection. It guards our hearts from choices that may comfort us today but harm us tomorrow.

In recent years, Bruce and I have learned this lesson firsthand. Health challenges have changed how we live, move, and even think about time. There was a season when the pace of life slowed whether we wanted it to or not, and our plans had to bend to new realities.

We found ourselves learning to live within limits—not out of defeat, but out of wisdom. When your strength is not what it used to be, you realize that every ounce of energy, every decision, and every dollar must be used intentionally.

Some days, discipline looks like saying no to extra commitments and choosing rest instead of busyness. Other days, it’s saying yes to a walk, a simple meal, or a slower pace—choices that feel small but carry long-term strength.

God has used these limitations to teach us that discipline is not a burden—it’s a grace. It’s His way of training us to trust, to plan with His wisdom, and to live in ways that reflect His care.

As our bodies age or face illness, it’s natural to long for relief. Pain, fatigue, or anxiety can wear us down to the point where we crave an escape. In those moments, the world offers a thousand quick fixes: another pill, another drink, another indulgence, another distraction.

There’s nothing wrong with medical care when it’s used wisely—God gives knowledge to doctors and healing through medicine. But there is a quiet temptation to depend on medication or substances to numb what God may be using to refine.

When discomfort becomes our master, we stop yielding to God’s direction. We begin seeking peace through something other than His presence. It might bring temporary relief, but it rarely brings lasting restoration.

The danger lies not just in the substance, but in the substitution—replacing the comfort of the Holy Spirit with something man-made. Jesus said plainly, “Unless you believe that I am he you will die in your sins.” (John 8:24) When we rely on the wrong source, we drift from truth and lose the power of the Spirit who brings real healing.

Our choices—what we eat, spend, and depend on—are all acts of stewardship. God cares about every detail of our living because each one reflects our trust in Him.

Proverbs says, “The plans of the diligent lead surely to abundance, but everyone who is hasty comes only to poverty.” (Proverbs 21:5) Hasty choices, whether financial or physical, often lead to hardship later. But disciplined choices—steady, patient, prayerful—build foundations that can endure trials.

Living on a fixed income or with changing health means planning ahead. It means learning the value of enough, letting go of waste, and trusting God to multiply what remains. It means using resources wisely, not from fear, but from gratitude for what He provides.

Self-discipline also calls us to care for our bodies. As Paul writes, “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you…? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.” (1 Corinthians 6:19–20)
Eating well, resting, and moving in ways that preserve health are not self-centered acts—they’re forms of worship.

I’ve come to see that discipline in a weary or aging body looks different than it once did. It’s no longer about chasing perfection or productivity. It’s about persistence.

Paul writes, “I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.” (1 Corinthians 9:27) The older I get, the more I understand that verse. The discipline Paul spoke of was not just physical; it was spiritual resolve—a determination to stay faithful in the midst of weakness.

Some mornings, it’s an act of obedience simply to get out of bed, take medication as prescribed, and trust God with the day. Other days, discipline means denying the urge to self-medicate out of frustration or fatigue. It means turning to prayer instead of the pantry, to Scripture instead of self-pity.

Each choice, however small, becomes an offering—saying to the Lord, “I trust You more than I trust this temporary fix.”

Jesus said, “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.” (Matthew 10:28)

That verse reminds us that our physical life, while precious, is temporary. Our true preparation must be for eternity. The way we treat our bodies, spend our money, and respond to temptation reflects our reverence for the One who holds our eternity.

Every disciplined choice echoes into forever. Every moment of yielding to God’s direction strengthens the soul for the day when faith becomes sight.

Paul said it best in 2 Corinthians 5:9–11:

“So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please Him. For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil.”

Preparation for eternity demands the whole truth—and that includes how we live in these bodies today.

Discipline without grace leads to exhaustion. Grace without discipline leads to drift. We need both.

There are days when I give in to comfort rather than calling, when I let worry outweigh worship. Yet God is patient. “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” (1 John 1:8) His mercy meets me in the middle of my mess, gently reminding me that yielding is not about perfection—it’s about progression.

Through Christ, we are empowered to live differently. “Those whom He foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son.” (Romans 8:29)
Each act of self-discipline—each refusal of an unhealthy escape, each wise financial choice, each small step of obedience—shapes us more into His likeness.

The more we yield, the freer we become.  This is what it takes to keep a healthy focus on what is true and real.  When we are able to keep our focus on what is true and ourselves healthy, we are then able to remember to keep focus on what is most important in our lives.  Staying married is not easy and no picnic somedays.  But the rewards at the end of life are worth it.  The small moments of remembering why you got married in the first place keeps you focused on what was true yesterday and what will be true tomorrow.  The feelings of today will pass and the troubles of today are a passing event.  Nothing is forever except one thing.  That will keep our focus on what is true!