Second Stage Ministries

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains — where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord , the Maker of heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1-2 NIV Last week I wrote a post called “Kryptonite” and in that post I told a story of Peter walking on water. In the story, he loses focus on Jesus and began to sink in the raging waters. I encourage you to read the post as this post serves as a part 2 to that post as a friend encouraged me to write a follow-up to “Kryptonite”. In this post, I want to revisit a post that I wrote some 2 years ago on the topic of focus. We are going to look at a small section of Paul’s life and I hope that it helps you find your focus. ____________________________ Paul’s name was not always Paul, and he was also not always the most popular guy. When we first see Paul in the book of Acts his name is Saul, and he hates the Christian people. Saul is heading to Damascus where he has permission to arrest and bring followers of Jesus back and torture a

“[looking away from all that will distract us and] focusing our eyes on Jesus , who is the Author and Perfecter of faith....” -  Hebrews 12:2 a AMP Have you ever lost focus? Maybe it was a task you were working on and one of your kids (or spouse) come into the room or called out to you from another place in the house causing you to turn your attention from what you were doing to them or their calling out. Then you look back at your task and have to remember where you were or what exactly you have done. Did I add salt to this? Did I put in the sugar for the cookies? How many cups of flour did I put in the mixing bowl already? You get the idea. Have you been there? There are times in life when we can be the same way. We are going along in life - our day to day activities - our gaze is laser focused on Jesus. Then all of a sudden something happens in our life that seemingly comes out of nowhere and takes our focus off of Jesus. We begin then to fall into the storm of what

I have always wanted to be an artist. I have always wanted to be able to whip out a sketch pad and draw what is before me. I have always wanted to be able to draw the intricate design of the landscape in the distance, the details of a person's face or the majestic colors in the sky at sunset. I have always wanted to draw on a white board as I teach the Word of God to 10 year olds. But I can’t even draw stick figures all that well. I am just not an artist in that way. But I am an artist. I am able to creatively teach 4th and 5th graders stories in the Bible so that they can understand how much he loves them and how all the stories in Bible are all one big story. We are all created differently with different abilities. Paul wrote about this in 1 Corinthians 12. He describes a body and how each part of the body does it’s own thing and that each part serves a purpose. You don’t use your hands to try and do what your feet can do and your eyes are not your hands. Every par

Why do I care so much? Why do I worry about it so much? Why do I think that it’s my fault so much? Why does this keep coming around so much? Why can’t I shake this demons? Why won’t they just go away? Why does the past keep creeping in? Why am I so in control but out of control? The devil tries to still your joy. The words of Jesus say: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” - John 10:10 NIV The devil’s goal is clear in these words of Jesus - he is just out to steal away anything Jesus tries to do. Jesus can be telling you in one ear that “everything is going to be ok” “it’s really not your fault” “keep your head up”. Then in the other ear, the devil is telling you everything is the opposite “everything is failing and falling apart” “this is all your fault” “there is no reason to have your head up”. Steal steal steal steal steal. This is all he does. He doesn’t want you to b

by Heather Gent I looked around the room at all the furniture I was leaving behind. Pictures. Books. My daughter's crib. My own bed.  Many of my son's belongings.  Everything I owned was about to fade into nothing more than a distant memory.  Let it go I heard my Father whisper.  I struggled, not with starting over again, but with leaving behind my books, Bibles, and Christian wall art, the plaques that had Scripture written out on them.  Hanging crosses that I hung carefully throughout every home I've ever lived.  My reminders of God's presence. A white piece of wood that had the word hope written across it in gold.  A table cross that bore one of my favorite verses, Proverbs 3:5-6.  I reasoned a hundred times that the Lord wanted me to make room for these things, but each time I tried I was quickly rebuked by the Holy Spirit within me.   I didn't understand because they were my reminders of Him after all.  They were, to me, symbols of God Himself.  Shouldn'