Disruptions: When God Interrupts to Show Us Who He Really Is

“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” — James 1:2-4 (NASB)

James 1:2-4 is one of my favorite passages in all of Scripture. And I want to camp on one word in it — trials — and hand you a different word for the same thing: disruptions.

Because that's what a trial really is: a disruption. Life settles into a groove — familiar routines, familiar assumptions, a familiar sense of how things are supposed to go. A disruption breaks that groove. And here's what I've come to believe: God never wastes a disruption. They can come as grief or as a hard circumstance — a job lost, a diagnosis, a betrayal — or even as a friend who loves you enough to say something you didn't want to hear. The form doesn't matter. What matters is that a disruption interrupts business as usual long enough for you to meet God in a new and deeper way — if you'll let it.

I learned this the hardest way I can imagine. In 2001, my sister died, and it turned my whole world upside down. That was the first disruption — the kind that levels you. But there was a second one beneath it, and I never saw it coming.

As I worked through my grief with a trusted friend, he put his finger on something I'd believed for years but never said out loud: that good Christians are protected from life's real tragedies. Somewhere along the way, I'd assumed that if I stayed faithful enough, God would shield me from genuine loss and suffering. My sister's death shattered that assumption — and my friend helped me see it had never been true to begin with.

But God did a work in my heart as a result. See, here’s the truth He taught me in that season: God never promised His people immunity from a fallen world. He promised something deeper — to be with us in it and to use even our worst losses to grow us and reveal Himself. That's exactly what James is getting at. Trials aren't a sign that God has abandoned you; they're often the very tool He uses to make your faith “perfect and complete.” Both disruptions — the grief and the lie it exposed — worked together, and God used them to teach me who He really is and how to walk with Him in a broken world.

So when the disruption comes — and it will — you have a choice in how you meet it. You can brace yourself against it, resent it, and wait for your old routine to return. Or you can lean in and ask, “Lord, what do You want to show me here?” The disruption itself isn't your enemy. Held with open hands, it may be the very thing that breaks you open to God.

Big Idea

Disruptions can become some of your most profound encounters with God — the interruptions you'd never choose are often the very ones He uses to reveal Himself. Don't just survive them; seek Him in them.

Questions to Ponder

When a disruption hits, what's your instinct — do you deny it, avoid it, or scramble to get back to normal? What does that look like for you, and where does it leave you, during and after? Does it spill over onto the people around you? Or do you slow down and ask what God might be doing in it? And here's the deeper one: can you relate to the belief I carried — that God shields good Christians from real suffering? Is there something you believe about God that a hard season might expose as false?

Application

With your journal in hand, think of a disruption you're facing right now — or one you've never fully worked through. If one doesn't come to mind, ask the Lord. You might have to sit with it a moment — we're good at burying these — but for most of us, a disruption is never far from the surface. First, name it honestly; don't minimize it. Then bring the Lord two questions: “What are You wanting to show me about Yourself here?” and “Is there something I've believed about You that this is exposing as false?” Don't rush the answers; let Him speak over time. How you respond to a disruption truly shapes your faith — deny and avoid it, and you'll stay stuck; embrace it and let God work, and you'll grow. But the growth was never yours to manufacture. Your part is simply to keep your hands open and let Him do what only He can do in the interruption.

---

Before the Lord — a daily devotional by Blake S. Crawford. Read more and subscribe free at blakescrawford.com/before-the-lord.

From the Inside Out: How Your Heart Shapes Your Words

“If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person's religion is worthless.” — James 1:26 (ESV)

The words we speak matter — every one, especially when emotions run high. A mature believer knows this. If you'd asked me, I'd have said I was one. But if I'm honest, I struggle with this as much as anyone and need a daily reminder — which, it turns out, is exactly the kind of person James is talking to.

He doesn't soften it: “If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person's religion is worthless.” Notice who he's addressing — the person who thinks he's religious, who assumes he's got his faith together. People like me (and maybe you too). His point isn't that one sharp word undoes your salvation; it's that “religion” here refers to the outward expression of your faith — how your devotion to God shows up in your life. So here's the hard part: if your faith in Christ doesn't extend to your mouth, the outward show of it is empty — and your witness rings hollow.

That's why James makes the tongue the test — not because talk is the whole of faith, but because our words come from somewhere deeper. As Jesus put it, “What comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart” (Matthew 15:18, ESV). The mouth is only the outlet; the heart is the source. When your heart is healthy and rooted in Christ, what comes out tends to bring life and encouragement. When it's wounded, angry, or anxious, that comes out too. Our words don't lie — they report the true condition of what's inside.

I learned this the hard way. Years ago, when I was younger and blazing a trail in business, I sensed the Lord calling me to take my career and my leadership style in a different direction, and it stirred up real fear. Owning my own business, where the buck stopped with me, only turned up the volume. I'd come home from a twelve-hour day, emotionally and psychologically beaten down, riddled with doubt: Did I get this right? Did I blow that? Internally, I was a mess.

And here's what that did to my words. If my wife said even the smallest thing that touched on my competence, I'd explode. “Honey, you forgot to take the trash down yesterday” could send me over the edge. The trash had nothing to do with it. My sharpness wasn't about her comment — it was about the doubt, fear, and anxiety already churning in my heart. Her words just happened to land on the wound.

It wasn't until I saw that undercurrent for what it was — and how it was poisoning the way I treated the people I loved most — that things changed. Not by trying harder to watch my mouth, but by surrendering the fear, doubt, and anxiety to the Lord. Only then could I walk through the door and truly be present with my wife and kids, speaking from a full heart rather than an anxious one.

When harsh words come out, don't just apologize and move on. Treat them as a signal — a light on the dashboard telling you something's off under the hood. Because your words will always tell the truth about your heart, even when you'd rather they didn't. Listen to them. They're showing you exactly where you need the Lord.

Big Idea

Your words are shaped from the inside out. If you want to change what comes out of your mouth, start by examining what's in your heart.

Questions to Ponder

When was the last time you met a $5 moment with a $100 reaction — words far sharper than the moment deserved? With that in mind, start at the surface: what did you say, and what set it off? Then look beneath — what were you actually feeling? Anger is usually a cover; what was it hiding? Fear, insecurity, loneliness, shame? And go deeper still: what old wound did that small trigger press on? Harsh words are rarely about what's in front of us. Follow yours down far enough — put yourself back in that moment — and they'll lead you to a place in your heart that's been waiting for the Lord. That place is where the freedom is. Are you willing to go there and let Him begin to loosen the grip it's held on you?

Application

With your journal in hand, let's deal with the wound or fear beneath your words. First, surrender it. Name it plainly and hand it to the Lord: “I give You this fear, this hurt, the thing I've been guarding and dealing with on my own.” Picture yourself handing it to the Lord. Then tell Him you trust Him to carry what you can't. Next, listen for the story the wound has been telling you — “you're not enough,” “you're going to fail,” “no one has your back,” “you're all alone” — and hold it up against what God says is true. Ask Him to rewrite it, and write His truth in place of the lie. That's how the stronghold breaks — not by force of will, but by grace. You trade the old story for a truer one, and you let God walk you through it. Then let the rubber meet the road. The grip won't loosen in a day, so each time the sharp words rise, go back through it — surrender, trust, remember the truer story — and over time your words will change, because the heart beneath them is being made new.

---

Before the Lord — a daily devotional by Blake S. Crawford. Read more and subscribe free at blakescrawford.com/before-the-lord.

Is Jesus Your Friend? What Abraham's Faith Teaches Us

"And the Scripture was fulfilled that says, 'Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness' — and he was called a friend of God." — James 2:23 (ESV)

I've been studying James for the past few months, and something struck me as I read James 2:23. I wrote this in my journal: "God made Abraham His friend. Question: Do I create room in my heart and life for that kind of friendship with God?"

That question stayed with me. In my daily life, do I make space for closeness with God that would cause Him to call me friend? I had to admit — I don't always make that room. Life gets busy, distractions pile up, and before I know it, I've squeezed God to the margins instead of giving Him the center.

And when I looked at Abraham's life, I realized the room I was seeking isn't built by effort — it's built by faith.

Here's what struck me about Abraham. James isn't saying Abraham earned God's friendship by doing the right things. He's saying Abraham believed God — and that belief was so real and so deep that it moved him to act. When God told him to leave everything and go to a land he'd never seen, Abraham went (Genesis 12:1-4). When God asked him to offer Isaac, he obeyed again (Genesis 22). His faith wasn't passive. It was active, built on trust, and shaped how he lived.

And that's where the friendship came from. Not from performance. Not from getting everything right. It came from a heart so anchored in trust that God called him friend. Abraham cultivated a life oriented toward God — not perfectly, but faithfully. He built altars. He talked with God. He followed even when the path didn't make sense. The friendship grew within those Christ-centered rhythms of daily faithfulness.

So the question for us isn't "are we doing enough?" It's "are we trusting deeply enough for it to shape how we live?" Friendship with God starts with faith — the kind that makes room for Him, not out of obligation but out of a genuine desire to know and walk with Him.

Big Idea

Friendship with God begins with faith and deepens through the daily rhythms of a heart turned toward Him.

Questions to Ponder

Do you make room in your heart and life for a deep friendship with God? This question can be as heart-probing as you want it to be. It's not about doing more or trying harder — it's about the condition and focus of your heart. When you look at Abraham's faith, what stands out to you? Is your faith the kind that moves your feet, or has it become more passive than you'd like?

Application

In your quiet time, ask the Lord to show you ways to deepen your friendship with Him. Ask Him to reveal one specific area where you can make more room for Him — not by adding to your checklist, but by turning your heart more fully toward Him. Whatever He reveals, act on it. Faith that deepens friendship is faith that moves.

---

Before the Lord — a daily devotional by Blake S. Crawford. Read more and subscribe free at blakescrawford.com/before-the-lord.

Pride's Blind Spot: The Kind You'd Never Think to Confess

"But he gives more grace. Therefore it says, 'God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.'" — James 4:6 (ESV)

We tend to think of pride as something obvious — the person who dominates every conversation, the leader who refuses correction, the friend who always has to be right. And it is those things. But the most dangerous kind of pride isn't the one everyone can see. It's the one you'd never think to confess.

Take Haman in the book of Esther. He had everything — wealth, power, and the king's ear. But when one man, Mordecai, refused to bow, none of it mattered. Haman couldn't enjoy what he had because someone wasn't giving him what he felt he deserved. That's what pride does. It doesn't just inflate you — it imprisons you. It makes your peace contingent on something you were never meant to control.

Most of us read that and think, "I'd never be that petty." And maybe we wouldn't — not like that. But pride rarely announces itself. It adapts, finding subtler places to hide.

I was talking with a friend recently who's been struggling — not with arrogance, but with an inability to give himself grace. He's a believer. He knows the gospel. Yet he can't shake the feeling that he should be past this — past the struggle, past the failure, past needing to come back to God with the same confession. If you asked him whether pride was his issue, he'd say absolutely not.

But when you peel back the layers, that's exactly what it is. Pride that says, "I shouldn't need this much grace." Pride that treats weakness as failure rather than as the human condition. The kind that holds you to a standard you were never meant to meet — and punishes you for falling short.

James tells us that God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. We usually hear that as a warning against arrogance. But look at it from the other side. If humility is what opens the door to grace, then pride is what keeps you from walking through it. And sometimes what keeps you from walking through it isn't the belief that you don't need grace — it's the belief you shouldn't need it as often.

François Fénelon, a 17th-century French archbishop and devotional writer, put it this way: "He who thinks nothing is due him never thinks himself ill-treated." That cuts both ways. The obviously proud person is offended when the world doesn't deliver what's owed. The subtly proud person is offended when the standard they've set for themselves isn't met. Both are anchored in the same root — the belief that something is owed. One demands it from the world. The other demands it from themselves.

Humility isn't thinking less of yourself. It's releasing the expectation that you should have it all together — and letting God's grace be enough. Not just in your theology, but the life you live.

Big Idea

The most dangerous pride isn't the kind everyone can see — it's the kind that keeps you from receiving the grace the Lord has for you.

Questions to Ponder

Are you harder on yourself than you would be on anyone else? If so, have you considered that might be pride — the belief that you should be above needing grace? Have you ever looked at pride this way before? Where in your life are you refusing to rest in God's grace and expecting things of yourself that are unrealistic?

Application

Ask the Lord to show you where pride might be hiding — not as arrogance, but as self-sufficiency, perfectionism, or an unwillingness to need Him in the way you actually do. If He brings something to mind, name it honestly: "Lord, I've been treating my need for grace as a failure instead of receiving it as your gift." Then stop performing and start receiving. Practice resting in God's free and wonderful grace — it's where your peace has been waiting all along.

---

Before the Lord — a daily devotional by Blake S. Crawford. Read more and subscribe free at blakescrawford.com/before-the-lord.

Hearing Without Doing: When Faith Becomes a Formula

"But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves." — James 1:22 (ESV)

James doesn't soften this. If you hear God's word and walk away unchanged, you're not just coasting — you're deceived. You're fooling yourself. And that should stop each of us in our tracks.

I've watched men and women who appear to be solid, mature believers on the surface — people who know the Word, attend every service, and say all the right things — yet when it matters most, their actions don't line up with what they profess. Self-interest quietly creeps in and can affect even the most seasoned among us.

Here's what I've noticed: the most susceptible to this aren't the new believers, still finding their footing. It's often those who've been in the faith the longest — the ones who've developed what I call a robotic view of Christianity. They've built a formula. They know which steps to follow, which answers to give, and which posture to present. From the outside, it looks like maturity. But underneath, it's just a system — a series of motions, not a living relationship.

When faith becomes mechanical, obedience becomes optional.

Big Idea

God's word was never meant to stop at your ears. When it reaches your heart, it moves your feet. That's the difference between a formula and a relationship — and between self-deception and true faith.

Questions to Ponder

Is your walk with the Lord more like a to-do list than an intimate relationship? Think about that for a moment. Review your interactions with Him — do they feel mundane and lifeless, or lively and life-giving? How would you describe the closeness of your faith right now — is God a distant authority you try to obey, or a loving Father who walks with you every day? Is that bond as strong and as deep as you truly want it to be?

Application

This week, pay attention to the gap between what you hear and what you do. When God's word stirs you — through a sermon, a devotional, or a quiet moment in Scripture — don't let it pass. Pray into it and act on it. When your heart is connected to the Lord, godly action should follow naturally — not forced or performed, just the overflow of a heart that's been touched. But when the relationship goes cold, and routine is all that's left, self-interest fills the gap, and your actions either turn inward or disappear altogether. So if something is stirring inside you right now, don't push it down. When the Lord brings something to the surface, it's time to unwrap it. Don't hesitate. I tell my girls this often — faith is a relationship, not a routine. Make sure the people watching your life can see the difference.

---

Before the Lord — a daily devotional by Blake S. Crawford. Read more and subscribe free at blakescrawford.com/before-the-lord.

Drawing Near: Mind the Gap?

"Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you." — James 4:8 (ESV)

The Autobiography of George Müller is one of the most influential books I've ever read, and I return to it often because of the profound lessons I've learned from his life. I highly recommend it. One passage in particular has stayed with me — a journal entry dated June 25, 1834. Müller wrote:

"These last three days, I have had very little real communion with God and have therefore been irritable and weak spiritually."

The following day, after spending nearly two hours in prayer, he reflected: "I now feel more comfortable."

What strikes me about this isn't the two hours of prayer — it's that Müller could feel the distance after only three days. His relationship with the Lord was so close, so lived-in, that even a brief absence left a noticeable mark on his mood, patience, and strength. That kind of sensitivity to God's presence doesn't happen by accident. It's built through consistent, intimate communion.

And that word — communion — is the one most of us skip over. We talk about quiet time, devotional time, and Bible study. All of those are good. But communion is something different. Communion means sharing and exchanging intimate thoughts and feelings. It's not just reading about God. It's talking to Him — honestly, vulnerably, without an agenda — and then being still enough to hear what He says back.

Here's the honest question: when you miss a few days with the Lord, do you feel it as Müller did, or does the gap go unnoticed? The answer reveals something important about the depth of your relationship.

James 4:8 offers one of the simplest and most powerful promises in all of Scripture: "Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you." That's not a formula. It's an invitation. God isn't distant. He isn't hiding. He's waiting for us to show up — not with a checklist, but with an open heart.

The difference between a quiet time routine and real communion is the difference between knowing about someone and actually knowing them. One fills a box on your schedule. The other fills your soul.

Big Idea

Our time with the Lord must go beyond routine — it must include the sharing of intimate thoughts and feelings. That's communion.

Questions to Ponder

How is your communion with God — not your routine, but your actual relationship? When you miss time with Him, do you feel the distance, or does it go unnoticed? Are you sharing intimate thoughts and feelings with Him, or just going through the motions? Is the Lord stirring something in your heart right now about the depth of your quiet time? Is He asking you to draw more near?

Application

This week, set aside time — even fifteen minutes — for real communion with the Lord. Not reading about Him. Not checking a box. Sit with Him. Talk to Him honestly about what's on your heart. Then be still and listen. If you don't have a quiet time routine, start one. If you do, ask yourself whether it's producing intimacy or just information. The goal isn't more knowledge about God — it's more of God Himself.

---

Before the Lord — a daily devotional by Blake S. Crawford. Read more and subscribe free at blakescrawford.com/before-the-lord.

Listen and Obey: Faith That Acts

"Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says." — James 1:22 (NIV)

There's a kind of Christianity that looks spiritual on the surface but doesn't actually move. It listens. It nods. It takes notes. But when it's time to act, nothing changes. James calls it what it is: self-deception. "Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says."

That phrase — "merely listen" — should stop us. Most of us don't think of ourselves as disobedient. We read the Bible. We go to church. We engage with devotionals like this one. But James draws a hard line: if listening doesn't lead to doing, it's not faith. It's theater.

Here's what makes this even more interesting: in the Old Testament, the Hebrew word for "obey" and "listen" is the same word — shema. In the biblical sense, to truly listen is to obey. The two were never meant to be separated. When God speaks and you hear Him, the expected response isn't reflection — it's action. Listening that doesn't move your feet isn't listening at all.

Henry Blackaby, in his book Experiencing God, offers two observations about obedience that have always stayed with me. First, obedience reveals what you truly believe about God. It's easy to say you trust Him, but acting on it when the cost is real is another matter. Second, obedience can be costly — not just to you, but to those around you. If your obedience disrupts your comfort, plans, or even your relationships, don't be surprised. And don't let that cost discourage you. If the Lord tells you to do something, do it and trust Him with the results and whatever fallout may follow.

That's the part most of us stall on. We hear God clearly enough, but when the price tag shows up, we hesitate. We negotiate. We look for a cheaper version of obedience that lets us feel faithful without actually having to move. But there is no discount version. Either we trust Him enough to do what He says, or we don't.

The key to spiritual growth has never been how much you know about God. It's how quickly you act on what He's telling you.

Big Idea

Listening to the Lord means nothing if it doesn't lead to obedience. True faith hears — and when God calls for action, it moves.

Questions to Ponder

Is your relationship with the Lord deep enough to hear His voice — not just in Scripture, but in the daily decisions of your life? When you sense Him guiding you toward or away from something, do you follow through, or do you stall? Why do you think you struggle to follow through? Where has the cost of obedience led you to hesitate or negotiate with God instead of trusting Him? What is one thing the Lord has already spoken to you about that you haven't acted on yet?

Application

This week, pick one area where you've heard the Lord clearly but haven't acted — maybe it's a conversation, a habit, a financial decision, or a step of faith you keep postponing. Write it down. Then take the first concrete step of obedience before the week is over. Don't wait until it feels safe or makes sense. Obedience rarely does in the moment. Trust Him with the results.

---

Before the Lord — a daily devotional by Blake S. Crawford. Read more and subscribe free at blakescrawford.com/before-the-lord.