NO ROOM FOR JUDGEMENT

A Moment of Faith on the Road.

I remember when Cathy and I took a day trip to Amish country. On our way back, we saw a small vegetable stand by the side of the road, where two older people—probably in their eighties—were selling vegetables. We stopped, got out of the car, and Cathy started looking through the veggies to see what she might buy. I noticed a sticker that said, “Jesus saves.” So I said out loud, “I like that sticker—Jesus saves.”

The old man came over to me and said, “Oh yes, Jesus does save.” I told him I knew that was true, because He had saved me.

Suddenly, the four of us were praising God together. Cathy said, “Let’s sing a hymn,” and there we were, standing on the side of the road, singing a hymn with people we’d never met before but somehow felt like we’d known forever.

That moment really fits with how I understand John 3:16-18. Why? Because I didn’t know anything about these people—I didn’t know if they were Catholic, Amish, Baptist, non-denominational, or something else. But I knew one thing: they loved Jesus and had given their lives to Him. That was our common ground. I didn’t know anything else about them, but their love for Jesus was clear. I couldn’t judge them based on politics or church affiliations—there was just no room for that. They believed in Jesus, loved Him with all their hearts, and followed Him. And that’s all that ever really matters.

THE CHRISTIAN PARADOX

Being a follower of Jesus is full of fascinating paradoxes—truths that seem contradictory at first, but under God’s wisdom reveal a deeper reality. These paradoxes aren’t meant to confuse us. They invite us to go deeper, to let faith stretch our human logic to find divine understanding.

Here are some of the paradoxes that make the Christian life both challenging—and beautiful.

We are sinners—and yet we’re saved.
Romans 3:23–24
Everyone knows the tension: we’re imperfect, flawed, prone to stumble. And still—through Christ—we’re declared righteous, washed clean, and called children of God. The paradox is that we live both truths at once: we face our weakness honestly, yet rest in unshakable grace. Our awareness of imperfection keeps us humble, while the assurance of redemption fills us with hope that cannot be shaken.

We find strength in weakness.
2 Corinthians 12:9
In a world that tells us to hide our weaknesses and show only strength, faith flips that logic upside down. Paul summed it up perfectly: “When I am weak, then I am strong.” Coming to the end of ourselves isn’t the end—it’s the start of God’s power working in us. Weakness becomes the doorway through which divine strength enters.

We experience peace in the middle of the storm.
John 16:33
Most of us think of peace as the absence of problems. But the peace of Christ doesn’t depend on calm circumstances—it’s a deep inner steadiness that holds even when the waves rise, the wind roars, and life feels out of control. It’s not peace despite the storm; it’s peace in the storm. That’s what makes it supernatural.

We die in order to truly live.
Matthew 16:25
Jesus said, “Whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.” Dying here doesn’t mean ceasing to exist—it means letting go: of pride, selfishness, and our need to control everything. It does feel like loss at first, but it’s actually the beginning of something new and free. Only when we release our grip does real, abundant life begin to grow.

We are in the world—but not of it.
John 17:14–16
We live right here, in the middle of this world—we work, love, create, build, and invest. Yet deep down we know this isn’t our permanent home. Our values and our hopes belong to another kingdom. That doesn’t mean we withdraw; it means we’re called to make a difference within this world without being shaped by it.

Here are a few more paradoxes to ponder:

We give in order to receive.
Luke 6:38 – Generosity doesn’t lead to lack; it leads to abundance.

To lead is to serve.
Matthew 23:11-12 – True authority is grounded in humility.

Joy can exist in suffering.
James 1:2–3 – Trials become places where hope takes root.

The last will be first.
Matthew 20:16 – God measures greatness in a completely different way.

The Christian paradox isn’t meant to confuse—it’s an invitation. An invitation to live differently, to trust deeper, and to discover peace, joy, and strength in places the world would never think to look. What seems contradictory becomes, in God’s hands, a truth that transforms—from the inside out.

UNPREDICTABLE

I heard about a plane crash in the news—240 people lost their lives. Among them was a family of six from India, full of hope for a fresh start in the UK. That flight was supposed to be their new beginning. Before takeoff, they took a selfie and sent it to their loved ones. Everyone in the photo was smiling, shining with hope and excitement for a new chapter they had dreamed about for so long.

What a heartbreaking tragedy. It touched me deeply. And yet, the hard truth is that tragedies like this happen every day, all around the world.

These moments remind me of something important: life never unfolds exactly how we imagine, and no new chapter starts exactly as planned. We often think of life as a neat, well-organized book—but God’s story rarely fits into our neat designs. In an instant, everything can change—without warning, without reason. It shows just how fragile and unpredictable our journey really is.

But even in the uncertainty, there’s a quiet place of hope. A trust that goes beyond what we can see, and holds us when everything else feels dark and fragile. This trust isn’t a naive belief that everything will turn out perfect. It’s a deep confidence that we rest in the hands of a loving God, whose plans go far beyond the pain we’re facing now.

Isaiah 41:10 gives us this promise:
“Don’t be afraid, for I am with you; don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.”

It’s not easy to hold on to these words when tragedy surrounds us. Promises of strength and help can feel empty when we’re drowning in loss. But the real message here is hope—a hope rooted in God’s eternal care. These words don’t promise instant relief or the kind of success we expect. Instead, they point to something bigger than our understanding—an unbreakable future built on God’s love and faithfulness.

When the world feels shaky and uncertain, this promise is more than just words. It’s an anchor that keeps us steady, even when the ground feels like it’s slipping beneath our feet.

It’s the surety of a love that never fails—a love that carries us, and gives us courage to face the darkest times, knowing we are not alone.

And there’s more. Scripture reminds us that we aren’t meant to stay stuck in the shadows. Jesus said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life” (John 8:12). God doesn’t just carry us through pain—He leads us into a future no tragedy can ever destroy.

That’s the hope we have: that beyond all the unpredictability of life, there’s a faithful God watching over every step we take. His love will carry us, His presence will guide us, and His promise tells us the darkness will never have the last word.

With Him, we can keep moving forward—not with fear, but with confident hope that He will make all things new.