Tag: worship

Called to be a Leader

I wrote this devotional reflection on Acts 2:37-42 before Commitment Sunday on 10 May 2026, verses used in worship at Stockton Corps on the same day.

There are moments when the gospel stops being an idea and becomes a summons. Acts 2:37-42 captures one of those moments. Peter’s words, spoken in the power of the Holy Spirit, pierced the hearts of the crowd. “Brothers, what shall we do?” they asked. It’s the cry of people suddenly aware that God is calling them into a different way of living. Peter’s answer was simple and demanding: “Repent and be baptised.” Leadership in the kingdom of God begins there, not with status, charisma, or ambition, but with surrender.

The world often imagines leaders as strong personalities who command attention and shape events through force of will. Yet the leaders born in Acts 2 emerged from repentance, humility, and openness to the Spirit. The church itself was born not from human planning, but from people responding faithfully to the call of God. Every Christian leader, whether standing in a pulpit, serving tea in a church hall, guiding children, visiting the lonely, or speaking up for justice, begins in exactly the same place: a heart transformed by grace.

Peter himself is proof of this. Only weeks earlier, he had denied Jesus three times. Fear had overwhelmed him. Yet now he stood boldly before thousands, proclaiming the risen Christ. God didn’t wait for Peter to become flawless before calling him to lead. Instead, God shaped Peter through failure, forgiveness, and renewal. That remains true today. Many people hesitate to lead because they feel inadequate, inexperienced, or wounded by past mistakes. But the Spirit who empowered Peter still calls ordinary people into extraordinary service.

Acts 2 also reminds us that leadership is deeply communal. The believers “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.” Leadership was never meant to be lonely heroism. The early church grew through shared devotion, shared meals, shared worship, and shared responsibility. Christian leadership is less about standing above others and more about walking with them. It means nurturing faith, encouraging hope, and helping people remain rooted in Christ when life becomes uncertain.

There is also a quiet courage in these verses. Around three thousand people were baptised that day. To identify publicly with Jesus in Jerusalem, so soon after his crucifixion, required bravery. Leadership often begins with the willingness to stand openly for what is right and true, even when it’s costly. In every generation, God calls people who’ll live differently; people who refuse hatred, who resist injustice, who choose compassion over cruelty, and who hold onto hope when despair feels easier.

The beautiful thing about this passage is that the call to leadership isn’t reserved for a select few. The promise Peter speaks of is “for you and your children and for all who are far off”. The Spirit is poured out widely. Leadership in the church isn’t about building personal influence; it’s about becoming available to God. Sometimes that leadership will be public, sometimes hidden and unseen. Yet both matter deeply in the kingdom of God.

To be called as a leader is, ultimately, to be called into faithful discipleship. It’s to listen for the Spirit, to remain devoted to prayer and community, and to point beyond ourselves to Jesus. The church still needs leaders shaped by Acts 2 leaders who are humble, Spirit-filled, courageous, compassionate, and deeply rooted in grace.

Called to Be a Disciple

This devotional was inspired by worship at Stockton Salvation Army on Sunday 19 April 2026. This is my personal reflection.

There’s something disarming about the story in Luke 5:1–11. Simon Peter and his companions have been fishing all night and caught nothing, they’re tired, frustrated, cleaning their nets, and ready to call it a day. Then Jesus arrives, borrows Peter’s boat to teach from, and afterwards tells him to put out into deep water and let down the nets. Peter’s response is honest: “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything.” But then comes that quiet, beautiful turn: “But because you say so, I will let down the nets.” What follows is abundance beyond imagining, nets so full they begin to break, boats so heavy they begin to sink.

This is the pattern of discipleship, it doesn’t begin with our competence or success, but with a willingness to trust when it doesn’t make sense. Peter had every practical reason to refuse. He was the expert fisherman, he knew these waters, he’d already tried and failed. Yet something in Jesus’ invitation drew him beyond his own experience into a deeper trust. It’s often in those moments, when we’ve reached the end of what we know, that faith begins to take root, not in certainty, but in obedience.

When the catch comes, Peter’s first instinct isn’t celebration, it’s awareness. “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” Yet Jesus doesn’t turn away. Instead, he speaks words of reassurance and calling: “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will fish for people.” Discipleship draws us beyond our own understanding, inviting us to trust the voice that calls us into deeper waters, and to discover that our inadequacy is precisely where grace meets us and gives us purpose.

Stuck in the Mud

Waiting can feel like being stuck in the mud, energy draining away as each step sinks deeper. Psalm 40:1-8 gives language to that experience, the long, faithful waiting that isn’t passive but aching with hope. “I waited patiently for the Lord,” the psalmist says, and then comes the turning point, God inclines, listens, and lifts. The rescue is physical and emotional, drawn up from the slimy pit and set on rock, stability replacing fear.

A new song follows, not forced praise, but gratitude born of being held when escape seemed impossible.

Mark 2:1-12 shows us that same rescue. A paralysed man is carried by friends who refuse to let obstacles have the final say. Their faith climbs, digs, lowers, and trusts. Jesus sees it and speaks words that go deeper than anyone expects: “Son, your sins are forgiven.” Before strength returns to limbs, wholeness begins in the heart. The teachers object, but Jesus names what God has always been doing, healing that reaches beneath the surface. The man is lifted up, and feet made firm. A new song walking out into the street.

These passages remind us that God’s rescue is never shallow. He hears the cry, heals what’s hidden, and steadies our lives from the inside out. True worship isn’t empty offering, but a heart that can finally say, “I desire to do your will, my God,” because it’s known what it is to be forgiven, lifted, and made whole.