Choose Today

Joshua 24

Good morning, church! If you’ve got your Bible—and I hope you do—go ahead and crack it open to the book of Joshua. We’re gonna be in Joshua chapter 24 today.

Now, I know some of y’all wonder why I start every sermon with that same line—“If you’ve got your Bible, and I hope you do…” It’s simple. I want you to know, this isn’t just some motivational talk. I’m not pulling random verses out of context to make a point. We are opening up the very words of God and letting His truth speak louder than mine ever could.

Today wraps up our “Strong and Courageous” series in the book of Joshua. And it’s also Palm Sunday—the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem, not on a war horse, but on a humble donkey. He was riding straight into the final week of His life, headed toward the cross where He’d be pierced for our transgressions and crushed for our iniquities.

Our reading plan this week will walk us through every step Jesus took in that final week—all the way to Good Friday, where we’ll gather and reflect on the weight of what He did for us. And then, next Sunday, we’re gonna come back and celebrate like nobody else on earth can celebrate—because the tomb is empty. Death didn’t win. Sin couldn’t hold Him. It was impossible for God to stay dead, because Jesus is not just a martyr—He’s the risen King.

And after Easter, we’re kicking off a brand new series through the book of 1 Peter. And y’all—it’s gonna be good. Because Jesus walked outta that grave, we now have a living hope—not just wishful thinking, but real, anchor-your-soul, in-this-broken-world kind of hope.

But before we get to all that—today, we’ve got a moment. A powerful one. Joshua is now 110 years old. He’s lived a full life, and before he takes his final breath, he gathers the people and gives them one last challenge. One last sermon.

Follow God or follow the world. That’s the line in the sand he draws.

Last week, we looked at chapter 10—where Joshua got tricked into an alliance with the Gibeonites, and because of that covenant, he ends up going to war with five Amorite kings. And God—oh, God was setting something up. Because what looked like a mess turned into a miracle. Instead of five separate battles, God lined them all up for a one-swing knockout.

Then, from chapters 11 through 21, we get the summary of all the conquests, all the kings who were taken out, and the breakdown of the land—who gets what, where the borders go.

And now, in chapters 23 and 24, Joshua’s giving his farewell address. The people are getting ready to settle into their tribal regions, and Joshua, knowing his time is short, calls everyone together for one last word.

And then he is going to die.

This book ends with three burials. Three graves that whisper something powerful about legacy, faithfulness, and the passing of the torch.

For 110 years, Joshua had walked faithfully with the Lord. He fought battles, led people, stood firm when others fell away. And when his race was done, they laid him to rest in the land he had claimed by faith. Not a statue. Not a shrine. Just a grave in a town he had carved out of the wilderness. Because even in death, it wasn’t about Joshua. It was about the God Joshua served. All throughout this book, there are memorials—but not for men. Ten stones scattered across the land, and every one of them points not to human achievement, but to divine faithfulness.

Then we get to Joseph. The bones of a man who had been dead for centuries, carried all the way from Egypt to Canaan.

Why? Because Joseph had believed the promise of God. He said, “God will come to your aid, and when He does, take my bones with you.” And they did.

Through the Red Sea, through the wilderness, through battles and setbacks—those bones made the journey. And now, finally, he rests in the land of promise. Not in Pharaoh’s palace, but in Shechem, the city of his inheritance. A reminder that God always keeps His promises—even if it takes generations to see them fulfilled.

And last, we read about Eleazar, the high priest. The son of Aaron. His death marks the closing of another chapter. The priest who had interceded for the people, who had stood between them and the presence of God, now lays silent.

The old guard is gone. Joshua the warrior. Joseph the dreamer. Eleazar the priest. All buried. All faithful. All finished.

But don’t miss this—none of them got the spotlight. Because this story, like our story, isn’t ultimately about the leaders who rise and fall. It’s about the God who never changes. The One who carries His people through every generation, from Egypt to Canaan, from death to life.

And here's the kicker—these graves aren’t just the end of the book of Joshua. They’re a setup for the need of something greater. A better leader. A greater deliverer. A final High Priest who wouldn’t stay buried. His name is Jesus.

And unlike Joshua, His grave didn’t hold Him. Unlike Joseph, His bones weren’t carried—they were raised. And unlike Eleazar, His priesthood never ends. That’s the hope we hold onto. The empty tomb changes everything.

And we can rest in that truth.

But let’s read Joshua 24:14-33

Joshua 24:14–33 ESV

14 “Now therefore fear the Lord and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness. Put away the gods that your fathers served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. 15 And if it is evil in your eyes to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your fathers served in the region beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” 16 Then the people answered, “Far be it from us that we should forsake the Lord to serve other gods, 17 for it is the Lord our God who brought us and our fathers up from the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, and who did those great signs in our sight and preserved us in all the way that we went, and among all the peoples through whom we passed. 18 And the Lord drove out before us all the peoples, the Amorites who lived in the land. Therefore we also will serve the Lord, for he is our God.” 19 But Joshua said to the people, “You are not able to serve the Lord, for he is a holy God. He is a jealous God; he will not forgive your transgressions or your sins. 20 If you forsake the Lord and serve foreign gods, then he will turn and do you harm and consume you, after having done you good.” 21 And the people said to Joshua, “No, but we will serve the Lord.” 22 Then Joshua said to the people, “You are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen the Lord, to serve him.” And they said, “We are witnesses.” 23 He said, “Then put away the foreign gods that are among you, and incline your heart to the Lord, the God of Israel.” 24 And the people said to Joshua, “The Lord our God we will serve, and his voice we will obey.” 25 So Joshua made a covenant with the people that day, and put in place statutes and rules for them at Shechem. 26 And Joshua wrote these words in the Book of the Law of God. And he took a large stone and set it up there under the terebinth that was by the sanctuary of the Lord. 27 And Joshua said to all the people, “Behold, this stone shall be a witness against us, for it has heard all the words of the Lord that he spoke to us. Therefore it shall be a witness against you, lest you deal falsely with your God.” 28 So Joshua sent the people away, every man to his inheritance. 29 After these things Joshua the son of Nun, the servant of the Lord, died, being 110 years old. 30 And they buried him in his own inheritance at Timnath-serah, which is in the hill country of Ephraim, north of the mountain of Gaash. 31 Israel served the Lord all the days of Joshua, and all the days of the elders who outlived Joshua and had known all the work that the Lord did for Israel. 32 As for the bones of Joseph, which the people of Israel brought up from Egypt, they buried them at Shechem, in the piece of land that Jacob bought from the sons of Hamor the father of Shechem for a hundred pieces of money. It became an inheritance of the descendants of Joseph. 33 And Eleazar the son of Aaron died, and they buried him at Gibeah, the town of Phinehas his son, which had been given him in the hill country of Ephraim.

Thats it. His last words Joshua’s last words before He breathes his last.

And you know, when someone knows they’re speaking for the last time, they don’t waste breath.

Every parent in the room gets this. It’s like that moment when you’re dropping your kids off somewhere—you know what I’m talking about—you give them the rundown like it’s the Ten Commandments: “Look at me. Hey. Look. Listen. Yes ma’am, no ma’am. Please and thank you. For the love, brush your teeth. Don’t embarrass us. And wear deodorant!” And then, just loud enough for the other parent to hear, you throw in, “If they act up, you have my permission to wear them out.” My kids are looking at me like, “Wait… these people can spank us?” And the other parent’s like, “Oh no, I ain’t doing that.” To which I say, “Well, I’ll whip yours. Just seems fair.” (Kidding, but not really—that’s why nobody leaves their kids with me.)

But that’s kind of what Joshua’s doing here. He’s calling everybody together—God’s people—and he knows this is his final word. So, he says what matters most.

And we started in verse 14 and he says, “Now therefore…” And anytime the Bible says “therefore,” you gotta ask, “What’s the therefore there for?”

It’s because in chapter 23 and the first 13 verses of 24, Joshua’s been giving them the history lesson of all history lessons—walking them through God’s faithfulness.

He’s saying, “Let me remind you who our God is.” He goes all the way back to a man named Abram—just a guy living in the land of Ur. God called him and said, “Leave your home and go to a land I’ll show you.” And then God promised him a son, even though he was old—like really old—and said, “I’m gonna make your descendants outnumber the stars.” And Abraham believed God, and God counted that belief as righteousness.

Then came Isaac, the miracle baby. And then that wild moment on the mountain when Abraham was ready to give his son back to God—and God stepped in and said, “Stop. Don’t lay a hand on the boy. One day, I’ll give my Son instead.” And he provided a ram as a substitute. That’s the gospel right there, foreshadowed.

Isaac had Jacob. Jacob had a wrestling match with God and walked away with a limp and a new name—Israel. Israel had twelve sons, including Joseph, the dreamer with the technicolor coat who got jumped by his brothers, sold into slavery, and ended up in Egypt.

But God was at work, even in that mess. Joseph goes from prisoner to second-in-command, and when a famine hits, guess who’s ready? Joseph saves his whole family—God’s promise preserved through providence.

But then that family becomes a whole nation… in slavery. Until God shows up again. He meets Moses—a runaway, a murderer—in a burning bush, and tells him, “I’m sending you to Pharaoh. Tell him to let my people go.” And when Moses asks, “Who should I say sent me?” God says, “Tell him I AM sent you.” Yahweh.

Then God sends plague after plague—each one flexing on the false gods of Egypt. And finally, the night comes when the angel of death rolls through. But God tells His people, “Take a spotless lamb, put its blood on the doorpost, and death will pass over.” And just like that, they’re free.

They head out toward the Red Sea, and just when it looks like they’re trapped—Pharaoh’s army bearing down on them—God says, “Don’t be afraid. The Lord will fight for you.” Moses raises his hands, the sea splits in two, and the people of Israel walk across on dry ground. Miracle after miracle, faithfulness upon faithfulness.

Joshua’s saying, “That’s our story. That’s our God. He keeps His promises. He never fails.”

Now therefore—since God is who He says He is, and He has never broken a promise—Joshua looks at the people of Israel and says, “Fear the Lord and serve Him with all sincerity and faithfulness.”

Thats our first truth.

God Deserves Exclusive Worship Because of His Faithfulness (vv. 14–15)

Now let’s talk about that phrase, “fear the Lord.” That doesn’t just mean you’re supposed to be scared like you’re in some kind of spiritual horror movie.

But let’s be honest—you might need to be a little bit afraid. What it really means is this: see God for who He actually is… and then see yourself in light of that.

Because when you begin to truly see God—like really see Him—in all His holiness, His majesty, His power, and His nearness, you begin to realize something that’ll wreck your pride and rebuild your faith: He’s infinitely bigger than you ever imagined… and you’re way worse off than you ever thought.

You’re not just a bad person in need of improvement. You’re a dead person in need of resurrection. Totally depraved. Crooked to the core.

A.W. Tozer once said, “What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.” And he’s right.

Because when your view of God gets too small, your view of yourself gets way too big.

But when the Spirit of God opens your eyes and you catch even a glimpse of who He really is—high and lifted up, seated on the throne, holy, holy, holy—then you see yourself clearly. You stop making excuses. You stop pretending. You realize you’re not just spiritually sick—you’re spiritually dead. You don’t need a coach; you need a Savior. You don’t need a little help; you need a resurrection.

And the good news is—Jesus doesn’t improve lives. He resurrects the dead.

And listen, I know your kindergarten teacher told you that you were a beautiful rainbow unicorn made of Skittles and unicorn breath—but she lied to you, bless her heart.

The truth is, no one has ever let you down more than you. You’ve broken more promises to yourself than anyone else ever has. The biggest problem in your life? Is you.

But here’s the beautiful, upside-down truth of the gospel: when you really fear the Lord—when you rightly see Him and rightly see yourself—it crushes both your ego and your insecurity.

It humbles your pride because you realize you're the rebel. You're the problem. But it also obliterates your insecurity because even though you’re worse than you thought, you’re more loved than you ever dared imagine.

Why? Because the Creator of the universe chose you. He pursued you. And He paid for you. And the price He was willing to pay? His only begotten Son. Jesus.

So yeah, you're not the hero of your story—but you're not insignificant either. You matter because you are His.

That’s what Joshua’s getting at. Fear the Lord and serve Him sincerely.

Then he gives them a choice. He says, “Put away the gods your fathers served beyond the river and in Egypt. Choose this day whom you will serve.” Underline that in your Bible: Choose. This. Day.

Joshua’s like, “Look, I’m not giving y’all forever to think this through. This is the last time I’m talking to you. The clock is ticking. The decision is yours. And not choosing? That’s a choice too.”

You can serve the old gods of your family’s past. You can serve the idols of the culture around you. Or… you can serve the Lord.

And the same choice stands for you and me today. A line in the sand. No middle ground. You’ve got to decide: who sits on the throne of your life?

Now back then, people had literal carved idols in their homes—little statues, trinkets they bowed down to. You and I may not do that, but let’s be real: we’ve all got functional idols.

One theologian said, your heart and mine are idol-making factories. Crankin’ 'em out like it’s our full-time job.

An idol is anything—even a good thing—that we’ve turned into an ultimate thing. It’s anything created by God that we treat like it's God.

And some of those idols? They ain’t even bad things. They’re blessings we’ve twisted. Like your kids. Yep. I said it. Children make terrible gods. Can I get an amen?

Why? Because they were designed to leave you. That’s literally the plan. I know he’s 33 and still living in your basement, but he was supposed to go by now.

Or how about your spouse? Fellas, your wife is a gift from God—but she makes a terrible god. (Don’t say amen too loud if she’s sitting next to you—just blink twice if you need help.) But seriously—wives aren’t built to carry the weight of your worship. And neither are husbands. We’re all cracked vessels.

See, what Joshua is doing is he’s calling it out. He says, “Look, some of y’all are still clinging to gods from across the river. Some of y’all brought Egypt with you. And some of y’all picked up idols from the Amorites in this new land.”

Translation? Some of us are still hanging on to generational sin, cultural idols, or just plain American dreams that we’ve dressed up in church clothes.

Maybe it’s the idol of success. Maybe it’s comfort. Maybe it’s approval or achievement or control. But let’s be honest—every single one of us is tempted to bow down to something other than God.

So Joshua’s saying, “Choose. Choose this day. Decide. Who gets the throne in your heart?” Because only one thing can sit on that throne.

And here's the good news: If you give that throne to Jesus, He’s the only King who won’t crush you… and the only one who was crushed for you.

God and God alone deserves our worship and is worthy to be praised.

Secondly

Commitment to God Must Be Personal and Intentional (v. 15)

We look at Joshua and think, “Man, that brother was faithful.” And he was. No doubt about it—he needed every bit of that faithfulness for the fight he was in. But here’s the thing we sometimes forget: there has never been a time in history when choosing to stand with God didn’t cost something.

It’s easy to admire boldness in somebody else. It’s way harder to live it yourself.

But in every generation, the call has been the same: take your stand. Don’t just clap for faithfulness in Joshua—walk in it yourself. Because the need for courage, conviction, and commitment to the truth of God isn’t just something for ancient battlefields—it’s for right now. For you. For today.

So yeah, praise God for Joshua. But don’t just admire his faith. Own it.

Here’s what it means, plain and simple: real decision—real commitment to God—isn’t something we muster up on our own. It’s something God’s gotta do in us by His grace. Otherwise, we might wind up chasing the look-alike version of it—talking a good game but never actually stepping into it.

See, when Joshua says, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord,” that ain't just a good slogan for a coffee mug. That’s a man who’s already walked through the fire. He’s done with all the back-and-forth. No more straddling the fence. No more weighing the options.

He’s not in neutral. The gear’s in drive, and the direction is set—God’s glory and God’s way, no matter what.

There is a season for wrestling. There’s a time when you’re in the valley of decision, where the soul is tested and the heart’s on the anvil. But Joshua had been there, done that. The refining fire had burned away the hesitation, and what was left was a man fully convinced. He had settled the matter in his heart. The scale had tipped—and it wasn’t going back. He didn’t just know the truth, he stood on it. He didn’t waver. He wasn’t waiting for a better option. He was all in, all the way.

And maybe, just maybe, some of us need to hear that today. Especially those of us who’ve been walking this road for a while. It’s time to stop dabbling in indecision. To quit entertaining half-hearted devotion. You’ve tasted enough of this world to know it doesn’t satisfy.

Get out of the culdasac of stupidity. Where we think the next thing is going to fully and completely satisfy us. New job- nope. New place to live- nope. New car- nope.

All those things can bring joy in the short term but eventually they are going to be just like the things we replaced them with. The new job will have some coworker you don’t like just like the last job. That new car will eventually begin to smell just like your old car. That new place to live will come with its own set of headaches.

When Blair and I first got married we lived in a 1 bed room apartment by the St. Johns Town Center and it was great. Big bathroom- walk-in closets, bumper to bumper traffic every day at 5 and some lady who lived on the floor above us- who I believe wore high heels to every morning and was a trying to be a professional clogger at night.

Then we found out Judah was coming- we need to move into a house- and I thought man- this will be much better now that we don’t have Ms. Bojangles above us- now I live in a neighborhood that lights fireworks all week leading up to the fourth and after. who I kid you not, light fireworks on Christmas eve.

Same aggravations different locations.

We thought it was perfect until it wasn’t. We cannot expect stuff to be the thing that brings us complete and ever lasting joy. Because it will not. It is only through a deep and personal relationship with Jesus. Not half-in half-out. Be in.

So why do we keep dragging your feet? That season of delay has gone on long enough. Don’t let another moment go by with your heart hanging in the balance.

Because understand this- there are no grandchildren in heaven. You are either a son or daughter of the great high priest. no one gets into the Kingdom of God through there parents faith grandparents faith.

Its through your faith alone. You can pray for them but you can’t pray them into heaven. You can pray for the Holy Spirit to work, you can pray for the person’s heart to be opened to the Holy Spirit but they have to make the decision.

C.S. Lewis said that the gates of hell are locked form the inside- every person in hell is there because they want to be because they rejected God.

Don’t harden your heart to the Lord.

One of the signs that God’s really got a hold of your heart is this—you stop being swayed by every voice around you. When we’re young, we’re like sponges. We soak up whatever we’re told. Parents, teachers, pastors, influencers—we lean heavy on what they say.

And that’s understandable for a while. But spiritual maturity? That means learning to lean on God alone. It means letting your convictions be shaped by the Word, not by the world.

God gave you a mind, and He wants you to use it—but not to chase the crowd. He wants to guide you Himself. But He’s not looking for copycats. He’s looking for sons and daughters who will listen to His voice, follow His lead, and stand firm even if they stand alone.

Too many of us live like saplings in a crowded nursery.

We grow tall only because the trees next to us are holding us up. But when the storm comes, and those supports are gone, we snap. But a true disciple? That’s an oak. Planted deep. Roots sunk down into truth. It doesn’t matter what’s growing (or dying) next to it—because its strength doesn’t come from the trees around it. It comes from below… from what it’s rooted in.

But let’s tell the truth—most folks don’t live like that. They float. They drift. They watch the current of the culture and hop in. They read the room instead of reading the Word. But real men and women of God? They don’t follow the crowd—they follow the Shepherd. Even when that means walking a narrow road with nobody else on it.

And let me tell you- that is the best place to be

The best place to be in your walk with Jesus- right in the center of that narrow road. For every mile of road there is two miles of ditch. Staying in the middle of the road is the sweetest and best spot to be in so you don’t end up in a ditch.

Flirting with the line might sound fun and exciting until you end up in the ditch and you got to get yourself out of it.

You need to be all in because it doesn’t work any other way.

That’s exactly what Joshua is telling the people of Israel about. Don’t flirt with other idols. Don’t serve foreign gods.

Because God’s Covenant Blessings Come with Covenant Responsibility .

That is our third truth.

God’s covenant blessings come with covenant responsibility.

You know what ends up happening?

Book of Judges. and we are going to spend several weeks in Judges after 1 Peter.

The Israelites were supposed to finish off removing all of the idol worshippers in their lands.

They seem eager to finish the job at first.

The tribe of Judah strikes first, capturing individual towns and decimating coalition armies.

They even capture the hilltop city of Jerusalem, though they don’t manage to hold it. Jerusalem is apparently on the tribal border between Judah and Benjamin.

and ultimately they fail to drive out Jebusites. It’ll be over 300 years when the Israelites finally take over Jerusalem- King David does it.

Why is king David the one that does it? Because its the

But let me tell you what doesn’t work: playing for both teams.

Imagine a football player who tries to wear two jerseys—one from each team—on game day. But imagine he studies the playbook all week long for one team to play linebacker but on gameday he is on the other team and now has to play center. Doesn’t make sense right.

Would be kind of confusing to have Trevor Lawrence walking around in Titans gear all week- for him to study the titans playbook all week- go to all the titan practices- then on gameday he shows up to play for the jaguars who aren’t even playing the titans. Probably wouldn’t work out well.

And let’s be honest—some of us are trying to do just that in our walk with Jesus. You’re wearing the jersey on Sunday, but running plays for the enemy the rest of the week. You’re trying to live in both worlds, and it’s wearing you out. You’re not experiencing peace. You’re not walking in power. You’re stuck in spiritual no-man’s-land, and you’re getting hit from both sides.

Jesus said it plain—no one can serve two masters. You’ll end up loving one and despising the other. So it’s time to pick a side. If you’re gonna follow Jesus, then follow Him all the way. Don’t just show up for the team photo.

What’s wild to me—like truly ironic—is how the Israelites thought it was absurd that Joshua would even suggest they might one day chase after idols again. They were like, “Us? Serve idols? Joshua, are you kidding? Of course we’re gonna serve the Lord! Why would we ever go back to that mess?” And from where they stood, that sounded reasonable.

I mean, think about it. This is the God who split the Red Sea in half so they could walk through on dry ground. He rained down manna from heaven, poured out water from rocks, and led them with a cloud by day and fire by night. He crushed the walls of Jericho without them even swinging a sword. So when they say, “Joshua, we’re all in,” you kinda get it. They had seen God move in ways most of us only dream of.

But then Joshua responds back with what sounds like the most unexpected and confusing reply in the whole chapter:

“You are not able to serve the Lord... He will not forgive your transgressions or your sins.”

Hold up—what? That doesn’t sound like the God they’ve known. The God who’s been patient and merciful, time and time again. The God who gave them chance after chance, even when they didn’t deserve it. Hasn’t the whole story of Israel so far been a story of grace?

Yes—but Joshua isn’t making a theological error. He’s making a spiritual warning.

He’s not saying God can’t forgive—He’s saying God won’t play games with fake faith. God is not some cosmic vending machine you drop a coin of worship into when you want something and ignore the rest of the time. Joshua is saying, “Don’t you dare make this commitment lightly. This is not about permission—it’s about posture.”

Because God is holy. That means He is in a category all by Himself. He’s not just a better version of you—He is the standard of purity, the fire that consumes anything unclean, and the weight of glory that crushes pretense.

R.C. Sproul said it like this: “God’s holiness is not simply the best we know infinitely better. We know nothing like it. It stands apart. It is unique. It is holy.” God isn’t just a little more righteous than us—He’s completely other. Set apart. And that holiness demands a response that goes deeper than just words or emotional moments.

Joshua’s not trying to discourage them—he’s calling them to a faith that sticks. A faith that isn’t just about hype but about heart. He’s saying, “Don’t make this commitment unless you mean it. Because God doesn’t play games with divided hearts.” He knows Israel’s pattern—they’ve pledged their loyalty before, only to wander away when comfort or culture pulled them in another direction.

And sure enough, by the time we flip a few pages and get into the book of Judges, the whole nation is spiraling. They fall into this dark, downward cycle of sin and shallow repentance. It’s like spiritual whiplash—sin, cry out, God rescues, and then they do it all over again… but each time it gets worse. The lows get lower. The repentance gets thinner. And by the time we meet the last judge—Samuel—the people are so spiritually numb they’re begging for a king just like the other nations. Not a King who reflects the heart of God, but one who looks good on a battlefield. So they get Saul.

And guess what? The idolatry doesn’t stop. The compromise deepens. Eventually, the kingdom splits. Israel in the north is wiped off the map by the Assyrians—gone forever. Judah in the south is carried off to Babylon, and only after seventy years in exile do a small remnant return under Persian rule.

And we sit here thinking, “Man, how could they blow it like that? After all they’d seen and experienced with God, how did they fall so far?”

But here’s the truth that hits us right in the chest: we’re not any better. We say we’re all in, and then Monday hits and we’re back to chasing approval, comfort, status, money, or whatever else is shiny enough to grab our hearts. We abide for a moment… and then we step back.

The story of Israel is a mirror for us. Because half-hearted devotion always leads to whole-hearted disaster. God is not interested in part-time faith. He wants your whole heart—every day, every decision, every desire.

So the question isn’t just, “Will you serve the Lord today?” It’s, “Will you serve Him tomorrow… when it’s hard, when you’re tired, when the world says don’t?” Because serving the Lord is not a one-time emotional high—it’s a daily act of surrender to a holy, jealous, all-consuming God.

And that’s not something we can do in our own strength. But the good news is, the very God who calls us to serve Him faithfully has given us His Spirit to empower us. So we don’t serve out of fear… we serve out of love. We serve because the tomb is empty, the Spirit is alive, and the grace of Jesus is enough to sustain us every single day.

So Church… choose this day whom you will serve. But don’t just say it—live it.

JI Packer said it best when he said “To follow Christ is to accept Him as both Savior and Lord—there is no true faith that stops short of this.”

He is either Lord of all or not at all. If you have never surrendered your life to the Lordship of Jesus Christ I pray that today ios that day. Whatever the Lord is calling you do, I pray that you do it. Because if He is your savior, that also means he is your Lord. and Lord’s tell us what to do and we do it.

So let’s pray, lets sing, lets respond.