I Don’t Feel Like it.
Notes
Transcript
Handout
Last week, I asked you a question.
Not a casual one.
Not a surface-level check-in.
A question that doesn’t just brush the edges of your life—but goes straight to the center:
How is your soul?
We stepped into the first part of Acts 18 and watched Paul enter a city that looked a lot like ours—loud, indulgent, overwhelmed with noise and pressure.
And we didn’t just study what Paul did.
We paid attention to how Paul felt.
We saw a man called by God… but stretched thin.
Faithful… but worn out.
Doing the right things… while quietly carrying the weight of it all.
And in the middle of that tension, Jesus steps in—not with more to do, but with something to hold onto:
“Do not be afraid. I am with you.”
Some of us needed that last week.
To be reminded that God doesn’t just use us—He sees us. He strengthens us. He stays with us.
But the question still echoes:
How is your soul?
Because here’s what we don’t always talk about—
Even after healing… life keeps going.
Even after encouragement… there’s still a calling.
And even after Jesus meets you in the quiet… the noise still finds its way back.
So today, we pick back up.
Let’s go to Acts 18.
12 But when Gallio was proconsul of Achaia, the Jews made a united attack on Paul and brought him before the tribunal, 13 saying, “This man is persuading people to worship God contrary to the law.”
It’s been a year and six months since God spoke to Paul and said, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
Since that vision.
Since that moment of peace.
Since Paul decided to stay.
And what happens next?
He gets dragged back into conflict.
Another attack.
Another accusation.
Another fight.
No warning. No build-up. Just… here we go again.
And can I be honest with you?
When I read those verses this week, something in me flinched.
Not because I was surprised by the attack—but because I felt the weight of it.
Because I’ve had some moments lately where I’ve looked at the call of God and thought:
“God, I know what You said…but…”
Pray
You know what sucks about being a pastor?
You can’t call in.
Like, if I wake up on a Sunday and think, “Yeah, I’m not really feeling it today”…
I can’t just roll over, shoot a quick text, and go back to bed.
There’s no substitute preacher button.
No “out of office” auto-response for sermons.
People expect you to show up—fired up, prayed up, filled up—even if your soul is still trying to catch up.
And don’t get me wrong—I love this.
I love preaching. I love pastoring.
But that doesn’t mean every week is easy.
This week?
It was one of those weeks.
No big crisis. Nothing dramatic.
Just that slow, steady weight of everything stacking up.
A full schedule. A tired body. A distracted mind.
And somewhere in the middle of all that, I had a moment where I thought:
“I don’t feel like preaching this week.”
And so I’m not.
You’re dismissed.
Just kidding. but some of you looked a little happy about that. but sorry i have a full message, your stuck for at least the next two hours.
…Just kidding.
This morning, I have another question I want to ask you.
Now—it might not sound as deep as last week’s.
It might not cut your heart open the same way.
But it’s real.
And for most of us?
It’s a question we face just about every day.
What do you do… when you just don’t feel like it?
Because one of the things I’ve learned is this:
Sometimes the issue isn’t spiritual.
I can be healthy spiritually… and still be exhausted in every other area.
I can be full of faith, fully believing God’s Word…
and still want to walk away from responsibility.
I can know God is good…
and still feel like I’ve got nothing left to give.
I can be preaching truth—
and still battling fatigue in my body, pressure in my mind, and weight in my soul.
Because being spiritually alive doesn’t mean you’re emotionally unlimited.
And listen—it’s not that I want to run from Jesus…
I just want to take a nap with Jesus.
Like, “He leads me beside still waters?”
Perfect. Park me right there.
I love a good sleep sound. I use one every night.
Shout out to the Abide app—Christian meditation, Scripture-based sleep stories, calming music… it’s holy rest, okay?
And listen—if the Abide team is out there and looking for a sleep-sound influencer… I’m available.
I’ll be on Instagram like, “What’s up guys, tonight we’re whispering Psalm 23… with a light rain loop and the sound of gentle sheep chewing in the background.”
Seriously though—give me a little rain, soft thunder, maybe a river sound in the background… I’m out.
Just keep it light, though. If the water gets too real, I’m waking up at 3am—mad, confused, and needing to pee.
Sometimes, I don’t need a breakthrough. I just need a blanket.
But seriously—Sometimes the hardest part of following Jesus isn’t knowing what’s right…
It’s doing what’s right when your energy’s gone.
When your soul feels quiet.
When your spirit says “yes,” but your body and emotions are already halfway out the door.
And I think that maybe where we find Paul in Acts 18.
Now—it doesn’t explicitly say that he was tired.
It doesn’t say, “Paul woke up and didn’t feel like it.”
But you know what I know?
Paul was human.
He wasn’t some emotionless Bible robot.
He didn’t walk into every city fired up and full of energy.
He had real emotions. Real pressure. Real exhaustion.
This man has already been run out of cities.
He’s been rejected, attacked, mocked, misunderstood.
He’s been preaching faithfully—doing exactly what God called him to do—
And here in Acts 18, after a year and a half of obedience…
He gets dragged into court again.
Another confrontation.
Another accusation.
Another moment where, if it were me?
I’d be thinking, “God, are we still doing this?”
I’m about to encourage somebody this morning.
Ready?
Your struggles aren’t going away.
And you’re probably going to get hit again.
Be blessed.
You’re welcome.
I know—super uplifting, right?
But let’s just be real for a second.
Sometimes we act like if we just obey God hard enough… the resistance will back off.
Like if we’re faithful enough, we’ll eventually earn a “trial-free” season.
But that’s not what we see in Paul.
He stayed.
He obeyed.
He followed the call.
And what happened?
He got dragged into another fight.
No break. No breather. No “thank you for your service.”
Just another attack.
But hear me—
The presence of pressure doesn’t mean the absence of purpose.
Sometimes the reason you’re getting hit again…is because you didn’t quit the first time.
And you know what’s even crazier?
You know who—for some reason—loves to test what God says?
The enemy.
Because remember what God told Paul?
9 And the Lord said to Paul one night in a vision, “Do not be afraid, but go on speaking and do not be silent, 10 for I am with you, and no one will attack you to harm you, for I have many in this city who are my people.”
It’s like Satan heard that and said,
“Cool cool… let’s test it.”
Let’s see if Paul really believes it.
Let’s see if he remembers what God said when it actually gets hard.
Let’s see what happens when the peace wears off and the pressure comes back.
And let’s be clear—
The enemy isn’t testing God. He knows exactly what God can do.
He’s testing you.
He’s testing your memory.
Your resolve.
Your identity.
Your belief in what God already said.
Because Satan can’t undo what God promise…So he tries to convince you to walk away from it.
Notice what God tells Paul in verse 10:
10 for I am with you, and no one will attack you to harm you, for I have many in this city who are my people.”
And I want you to catch this—
God never said no one would attack him.
He said no one would attack him to harm him.
That’s a big difference.
In other words:
“Paul, it’s still going to get loud.
They’re still going to come for you.
But they won’t be able to touch what matters.”
They might talk.
They might gather.
They might drag you into court.
But they can’t derail what I’ve destined.
And then we get to verse 14—
Paul is literally standing there, about to open his mouth…
He’s ready to speak. Ready to defend himself.
He’s bracing for another fight.
And God steps in.
Before Paul can even say a word—Gallio shuts it down.
14 But when Paul was about to open his mouth, Gallio said to the Jews, “If it were a matter of wrongdoing or vicious crime, O Jews, I would have reason to accept your complaint. 15 But since it is a matter of questions about words and names and your own law, see to it yourselves. I refuse to be a judge of these things.” 16 And he drove them from the tribunal.
Paul’s standing there.
He’s been here before.
This isn’t new.
He’s been accused. He’s been attacked. He’s been hurt.
So what does he do?
He gets ready.
He takes a breath.
He’s about to step into the same fight he’s fought over and over.
And then—God shuts it down.
Before Paul can even speak, Gallio steps in and says:
“This isn’t a crime. This isn’t my jurisdiction. I’m not wasting my time on this.”
And just like that—it’s over.
Paul didn’t have to defend himself.
He didn’t have to fight for his place.
He didn’t have to prove his calling.
God handled it.
And what I love about this moment is that Paul was ready to fight.
He was ready to speak.
He was bracing for another blow…
But God said: “Not this time.”
And here’s the question that hit me:
Can you stand on God’s promise even when it looks like God’s promise is failing?
Can you still stand on God’s promise—
even when it looks like God’s promise is failing?
Can you trust what He said,
when everything in front of you looks like the opposite?
Because God didn’t say Paul wouldn’t be attacked—He said Paul wouldn’t be harmed.
And now, in this moment,
Paul is watching the attack form right in front of him…
But it looked like the same fight…and it didn’t end the same way.
Now verse 17… it’s one of those verses that’s easy to skip.
17 And they all seized Sosthenes, the ruler of the synagogue, and beat him in front of the tribunal. But Gallio paid no attention to any of this.
Cool. Thanks, Luke.
But if you slow down… something’s happening here.
Paul walks away untouched.
But somebody else gets hit.
Sosthenes, the ruler of the synagogue, takes the beating.
And Gallio?
He doesn’t step in.
He doesn’t intervene.
He doesn’t care.
And let’s just be honest—that feels unfair.
Paul’s protected.
But Sosthenes gets punished.
Why? I don’t know.
Maybe he was caught in the political mess.
Maybe the crowd was frustrated the case got thrown out.
Maybe he tried to defend Paul.
But I think it might be something even simpler than that:
Hurting people… hurt people.
This crowd was angry.
Frustrated.
Ashamed that their plan didn’t work.
And instead of dealing with their own hearts,
they turned that pain outward and found someone to blame.
And here’s why that matters for you and me today:
It’s one of the reasons that question—“How is your soul?”—is so important.
Because your soul condition?
Will eventually become your mental condition.
And your mental condition?
Will eventually become your relational condition.
If you don’t deal with what’s happening inside you, you will eventually start bleeding on people who didn’t cut you.
If your soul is bitter, it will show up in your tone.
If your soul is anxious, it will show up in your decisions.
If your soul is overwhelmed, it will leak into your leadership, your parenting, your relationships, your reactions.
And if we don’t learn how to be honest about what’s breaking inside of us— we’ll keep handing out pain to people who were never meant to carry it.
So let’s go back to Sosthenes.
The man who got beat.
The man who was left bleeding in public.
The man no one stepped in to protect.
You’d think that’s the end of his story.
Just another forgotten name in a messy moment.
But God doesn’t write stories like that.
Because when you fast-forward to 1 Corinthians 1:1, Paul opens his letter to the church in Corinth with this:
1 Paul, called by the will of God to be an apostle of Christ Jesus, and our brother Sosthenes,
The man who got beat down…
is now standing next to Paul.
Not broken—restored.
Not bitter—a brother.
Not wounded—called.
Somewhere between Acts 18 and 1 Corinthians 1…
Jesus got ahold of Sosthenes.
We don’t know how it happened.
We don’t know when it happened.
But we know this:
The pain didn’t get the final word.
And maybe that’s the word for somebody in here today:
You feel like the one who took the hit.
You’ve been standing on the sidelines, bleeding in silence.
You’ve felt forgotten. Overlooked.
Like the one who got caught in the crossfire.
But your story’s not over.
What happened to you doesn’t mean you’re done.
It doesn’t define you.
And it’s not the end.
If God can restore souls, He can restore circumstances.
He knows how to bring healing to places that felt ignored.
And just like Sosthenes—He knows how to pull you into purpose, even after pain.
As I begin to close…
And if you’ve been in church long enough,
You know every preacher has at least six “final thoughts.”
This is number one. So don’t get too excited yet.
I want to take us to another moment.
Another scene.
Another story where someone didn’t feel like it.
It’s Palm Sunday. (Which happens to be today.)
Jesus is entering Jerusalem.
Crowds are gathering. Palm branches are waving.
People are shouting:
9 And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!”
And that word—Hosanna—It’s not just a worship word. It literally means: “Save us now.”
It’s both praise and plea. It’s “We believe You’re the One… now do what only You can do.”
So they weren’t just celebrating—They were crying out: “Fix it. Heal it. Restore it. Save us.”
And the beauty of Palm Sunday is that Jesus was going to save them…Just not in the way they expected.
Now—I want to be honest.
It preaches really well when we say:
“The same crowd that shouted ‘Hosanna’ on Sunday shouted ‘Crucify Him’ on Friday.”
It sounds powerful. But it’s not really true.
The ones cheering on Sunday were His followers.
His disciples.
The ones who believed.
The crowd on Friday?
That was a different group.
Religious elites. Political agitators.
People who were threatened by who Jesus really was.
So the heartbreak of Holy Week isn’t betrayal by enemies—
It’s the silence of His friends.
Jesus didn’t just go to the cross alone—
He went into His pain without the people who said they’d stay.
They didn’t turn on Him.
They just… disappeared.
And then we see Him in the garden.
Matthew 26:39 Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me…”
The most honest “I don’t feel like it” moment in all of history.
But He doesn’t stop there.
39 And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.”
He didn’t feel like it.
But the will of the Father was more important than His desire not to.
Obedience over escape.
Surrender over survival.
Faithfulness in the face of unimaginable pain.
And He did it… for us.
For our healing.
For our salvation.
For our souls.
So what do you do…when you don’t feel like it?
You do it anyway.
Not based on your own strength—But on the strength of Jesus.
The One who went first.
The One who didn’t quit.
The One who stood when everyone else ran.
And the One who now lives in you.
Because here’s the truth:
8 We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; 9 persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; 10 always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.
Guess who said that?
Paul.
The same Paul who almost quit in Corinth.
The same Paul who stood, worn out and ready to fight.
The same Paul who didn’t have to say a word because God showed up.
He lived this.
He felt every bit of it.
And he made it through.
And now he’s writing from the other side saying:
“Yeah, we’ve been hit. We’ve been pushed. We’ve been broken and burdened…
but we’re still here. Because Jesus is still in us.”
So what do you do…
when you don’t feel like it?
You keep walking.
You keep showing up.
You keep trusting.
Not because you’re strong—But because He is.
You may be tired.
You may be discouraged.
You may be on the edge of giving up.
But your story’s not over.
And the Savior who said “Not my will, but Yours be done” He’s with you.
Right now.
Right here.
