Tag: Jesus

The Promise Is Still There

~ John Johnson ~ Leave a comment

I was drinking coffee this past Monday morning. I am worn out. Tired….As I’m wrestling with a headache and exhaustion, I had a moment of staring at my coffee cup. This mug was given to me by my late friend, Ron Pickett, I’d say about 7 or so years ago, and on both sides of the mug are the words:

“I got this.” — God

Or at least… that’s what it used to clearly say.

Over time, one side has started to fade. You can still make out the words if you look closely. The other side? It’s almost completely gone. If you didn’t already know what it once said, you probably wouldn’t be able to figure it out at all.

A coffee cup that says "I Got This" God. Test is faded, and barely legible

And honestly, that cup has been speaking to me lately.

Because sometimes life feels exactly like that faded message.

There are seasons where God’s promises feel clear and obvious. Times where His presence feels close, prayers seem answered, and peace comes easily. But then there are wilderness seasons. Seasons where things hurt. Seasons where prayers feel heavy. Seasons where life doesn’t make sense.

This past year has been one of those seasons for me.

If I’m honest, there have been moments when I’m not okay. Moments of exhaustion, grief, uncertainty, and wrestling internally with things I don’t fully understand. And when you’re in those places, it can sometimes feel like the message has faded. Like you can’t quite see what God is doing anymore.

But just because I can’t clearly see the promise doesn’t mean it disappeared.

The words on that mug are still there, whether my eyes can fully make them out or not.

And the same is true with God.

His faithfulness does not fade because my circumstances get difficult. His promises do not disappear because I feel lost in the wilderness. His presence is not dependent on my ability to see or understand what He is doing.

God is still there.
God still has it.
God still has a plan.

I think sometimes we love the idea of surrendering control to God… until it actually requires us to surrender control.

We sing songs like “Jesus, Take the Wheel,” but deep down we still want our hands on it. We want to hold onto the wheel “just in case.” Or maybe we slide over into the passenger seat but spend the entire trip trying to be backseat drivers, telling God where to turn and how fast to go.

But trust doesn’t work that way.

Real trust means letting go.
Real faith means believing God is still working even when the road ahead looks unclear.
Real surrender means accepting that His plan may not look like ours.

That’s hard.

Especially in wilderness seasons.

Especially when the cup looks faded.

But maybe faith was never about seeing every detail clearly. Maybe faith is choosing to believe the words are still there even when life has worn away our ability to read them easily.

“I got this.”

Not because life is easy.
Not because we understand everything.
Not because we feel strong all the time.

But because God is faithful.

Even in the wilderness.
Even in grief.
Even in uncertainty.
Even when the promise feels faded.

The message hasn’t disappeared.

And neither has He.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” – Deuteronomy 31:6

If the words of this post felt heavy, then here is my prayer for you. As you read it, reflect on the promises that God will never forsake you, that Jesus came and died on the cross for you. Our promise is not for today, but for a tomorrow to come.

Father God

Thank You for being faithful even when we cannot clearly see what You are doing. Thank You that Your promises do not fade with time, hardship, grief, or uncertainty. Even in seasons where life feels heavy and the path ahead feels unclear, You remain constant.

Lord, this has been a hard season. There are moments where we feel tired, discouraged, and not okay. There are moments where we struggle to understand why things happen the way they do. But even in the wilderness, help us remember that You are still present.

When fear tells us that we need to hold onto control, teach us to surrender. When we try to grab the wheel back from You, remind us that Your plans are greater than our own. Help us stop trying to be a backseat driver in our faith and instead trust fully in where You are leading us.

Give us peace in the unknown.
Give us strength for today.
Give us faith when the promises feel faded.
And give us the courage to trust that even when we cannot see it clearly, You still have it.

Thank You for never leaving us.
Thank You for walking with us through every wilderness season.
And thank You that Your love and faithfulness never wear away.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.

Jesus is not cool…

~ John Johnson ~ 1 Comment

Jesus is not cool…….

Yeah, going for the shock and awe, clickbait stuff from the get-go, but I will explain myself in a bit.

I have a cybersecurity blog shepherdsecurity.net and I often talk about deception in the digital world — phishing emails that look legitimate, spoofed domains that appear authentic, scams that feel familiar enough to trust. The most dangerous cyberattacks aren’t obvious. They don’t show up waving a red flag. They look real. They feel close.

I’m always thinking about how that same principle applies spiritually.

Jesus didn’t primarily warn us about obvious darkness. He warned us about deception.

In Matthew 24:24, Jesus says:

“For false messiahs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect..”

That means the deception and evil sometimes doesn’t feel bad. It can make you feel safe, seen, heard, and belong. It may look right or loving, it may even use scripture.

That’s what makes it dangerous. Its deception

When Jesus becomes cool and trendy

It’s suddenly “cool” in many spaces to say the name of Jesus. His name shows up in interviews, award speeches, social media captions, and merchandise. And on one hand, I’m grateful because I love Jesus. I would much rather live in a culture where His name is spoken than silenced…but I believe culture is on the verge of making Jesus cool.

Cool does not equal King.
Cool does not equal Savior.
Cool does not equal Lord.
Cool does not equal God.

There’s a difference between invoking the name of Jesus and surrendering to the lordship of Jesus. There is a difference between agreeing that Jesus has some good teachings and living it out. There is a difference between acknowledging that we sin and actively trying to repent from it.

It reminds me of this awesome song that came out about 20 years ago. The band Downhere released the song The Real Jesus on an album called Wide-Eyed and Mystified. It was packed with Gospel-centered songs that were both musically rich and theologically grounded.

The song wrestles with this exact tension — the difference between a cultural, customized, comfortable version of Jesus and the real, biblical Christ. The kind of Jesus we might shape into our image versus the One who reshapes us into His.

There’s an edge to the lyrics. A boldness. The vocalist even carries a vocal intensity that reminds me of Freddie Mercury. But more than the style, it’s the substance that hits.

“Jesus on the radio, Jesus on a late-night show
Jesus in a dream, looking all serene
Jesus on a steeple, Jesus in the Gallup poll
Jesus has His very own brand of rock and roll

Watched Him on the silver screen
Bought the action figurine
But Jesus is the only name that makes you flinch

Oh, can anybody show me the real Jesus?
Oh, let Your love unveil the mystery of the real Jesus”

The song essentially asks:
Are we following the real Jesus — or a version we’ve made cool, safer, trendier, more palatable?

Elon Musk does an interview and speaks about agreeing with the teachings of Jesus. Government officials sprinkle in Bible language when they speak. Kid Rock performs an explicit halftime show (family friendly alternitive?) and pops off about Jesus at the end. Hollywood celebrities thank God on stage for an award…..

And many believers clap, cheer, and clamor because at least God’s name is being said.

But here’s the question we need to ask ourselves. Are they speaking of the real Jesus, or cool Jesus?

Satan is about deception. I believe we are seeing an atempt of removing the real Jesus. Replacing Jesus with cool Jesus.

A “cool Jesus” who encourages and inspires you, but will never confront you….
A “cool Jesus” who you can follow, but you don’t have to submit to….
A “cool Jesus” who loves everyone and casts no judgment…
A “cool Jesus” who is agreeable and never offends….
A “cool Jesus” on a pretty cross, not with a messy bloodshed….
A “cool Jesus” with a feel-good gospel and no repentance…..

That version of Jesus spreads easily. It offends no one. It trends well. It’s marketable. #cooljesus

Early followers of Jesus did get martyred merely because they liked Jesus’ teachings.
They were killed because they declared Jesus is Lord.

There’s a difference between admiration and allegiance.

Romans 10:9 says:

“If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”

Jesus is Lord.

Not life coach….
Not influencer….
Not moral example….

….but Lord.

If the cross stops offending, if repentance disappears, if sin is never named, if surrender is optional — we should pause.

Because admiration is not repentance.
Agreement is not allegiance.

That means we don’t get swept up just because powerful or popular people say His name.

We need to ask these questions:

Do they preach the salvation done on the cross?
Do they call sin, sin or is it blessed?
Do they make God first?
Does their message require surrender and repentance?

Or are they presenting a safe, marketable, cool Jesus?

In the last-days, deception may not look anti-Christ at first.

It may look almost Christ like.

And almost is what deceives.

This isn’t about cynicism. It’s about discernment.

Be in prayer….
Be in the word…..
Live for the real Jesus — not the cool trending one.

Because the most dangerous lie isn’t the one that openly attacks Jesus.
It’s the one that uses His name while quietly removing His authority.

And in a world full of convincing counterfeits, we don’t just need a cool Jesus we admire.
We need the real Jesus.

I Made a Mistake….

~ John Johnson ~ 1 Comment

Recently, I found myself on the receiving end of a copyright infringement claim from a third-party copyright compliance company* over a photo I had used in a cybersecurity blog post involving Charlie Kirk and the rise of cyber attacks that would follow his death. I typically don’t use photos that are not Creative Commons license, and I didn’t double-check myself and used the wrong picture. The settlement request was not asking for thousands of dollars, but still an amount that hurt. After speaking with a copyright attorney, who was surprised that they were going after me for a lower amount than she has seen before, I chose not to ignore it, fight aggressively, or hide — but instead to engage respectfully and negotiate.

In the end, they offered a good percentage reduction. I accepted it. Not because it was easy — but because it was right.

(*Note: part of my agreement is to keep the terms of the agreement confidentual so I have left out the company, the client, the amount, and the negotiation details. The facts, while they help build a great testimony, are not fully pertinent to the lesson of this post. I do not wish to breach my agreement, which may cause it to be disputed. Thanks for understanding.)

Owning the Mistake

The truth is simple: I used the wrong image unintentionally. There was no malice, no attempt to profit unfairly, just a mistake. But mistakes still carry consequences.

Integrity means acknowledging when you’re wrong, even when it costs you. It means resisting the urge to justify, deflect, or minimize. I pleaded my case honestly — explaining the public-service nature of my cybersecurity work — but I also accepted responsibility.

That balance matters: honesty without excuse, accountability without defensiveness.

Confronting Confrontation (A Cultural Struggle)

While researching this situation with the legitimacy of this copyright claim, this company, the tactics and aggression they used, I noticed a pattern in many people who have encountered them

  • Some people immediately wanted to trash the company first without really looking at the options.
  • Others went a different direction to avoid, hide, or hope it would disappear. To just bury their head in the sand and pretend the confrontation did not happen.

From a person looking into this, the recommendationsthat were being suggested seemed like they didn’t play out in most people’s favor and just escalated the issues. It also painted these people in a not-so-pretty light.

There were very few that encouraged calm, civil engagement.

Honestly, that reflects a broader cultural issue. We don’t handle confrontation well. We either escalate it or evade it. Yet growth, reconciliation, and wisdom often live right in the middle — in respectful dialogue.

Scripture reminds us:

“Blessed are the peacemakers.” — Matthew 5:9

Peacemaking isn’t passive. It often requires stepping into uncomfortable conversations with humility and courage.

Civility, Diplomacy, and Grace

Throughout the process, I intentionally kept communication polite and diplomatic. I explained my ministry-style cybersecurity focus, my desire to educate and protect people, and my lack of intent to misuse anyone’s work. (I’m an artist, my wife does photography. Take care of your artists.)

And to their credit, grace was shown. The reduction wasn’t required — it was extended. That reminded me that civility often invites civility in return.

Another verse that stayed with me:

“A gentle answer turns away wrath.” — Proverbs 15:1

That proved true here.

Accountability Still Matters

Grace doesn’t erase responsibility. I still had to make it right financially. Accepting consequences is part of integrity.

That accountability is actually healthy. It sharpens our processes, reminds us to double-check sources, and encourages better stewardship of other people’s work.

As Paul wrote:

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart… as working for the Lord.” — Colossians 3:23

That includes blogging, media use, and ethical conduct online.

What I Took Away

Here’s what this experience reinforced for me:

  • Own mistakes quickly and honestly.
  • Don’t fear respectful confrontation.
  • Stay civil even when stressed.
  • Accept consequences with humility.
  • Leave room for grace — both giving and receiving it.

Final Reflection

This wasn’t a fun experience, but it was a refining one. Integrity is often proven not when things go right, but when they go wrong. Why even blog about this? Well…owning accountability and being transparent is something I value. I failed here, but I learned a lot in this process. Failure is not bad; it helps us grow, hiding from it keeps us complacent and prevents us from growth.

If you ever find yourself in a similar situation — legal, relational, or professional — remember: accountability and grace can coexist. And sometimes the strongest witness we have isn’t perfection… it’s how we respond when we fall short.

Life at the Table

~ John Johnson ~ Leave a comment

If you know me at all, you know I love board games. Seriously — give me a good game, some friends, maybe some coffee, and I’m a happy guy. There’s just something about sitting around a table rolling dice, strategizing, laughing, and sometimes losing spectacularly that feeds the soul in a way scrolling a screen never can.

But the older I get, the more I realize it’s not really about the games. It’s about the table.

The table is where life happens.

It’s where we eat meals together and share stories from the day.
It’s where Bible studies unfold, questions get asked, and faith grows deeper.
It’s where homework battles are fought, creativity is sparked, and kids feel supported.
It’s where conversations get real, laughter gets loud, and sometimes tears show up too.

The table is more than furniture — it’s a place of connection.

Jesus Loved Tables Too

When you read the Gospels, Jesus is constantly meeting people at tables. Not just religious leaders or the “put together” crowd either. Tax collectors, sinners, doubters, friends, outsiders — He made room for all of them.

Meals weren’t just about food in that culture. Eating together meant acceptance, relationship, and belonging. When Jesus sat at a table with someone, He was saying, You matter. You’re welcome here.

Think about:

  • Zacchaeus, the tax collector — Jesus invited Himself over for dinner (Luke 19:1–10).
  • Matthew — Jesus ate with him and a whole crew of sinners (Matthew 9:10–13).
  • The Last Supper — a table where Jesus showed ultimate love and sacrifice (Luke 22:14–20).
  • The resurrected Jesus cooking breakfast for His disciples (John 21:9–13).

Jesus used tables to disciple, restore, challenge, and love people.

And honestly? We still can.

Why the Table Matters Today

In a world full of noise, hurry, and isolation, the table becomes a sacred space.

Phones get set down.
Eyes meet.
Hearts open.
Faith conversations happen naturally.

You don’t need a perfect house, gourmet food, or a perfectly planned devotional. Sometimes frozen pizza, a board game, and honest conversation can be holy ground.

Hospitality isn’t about impressing — it’s about welcoming.

Community doesn’t accidentally happen. It usually starts with an invitation:
“Hey… want to come sit at the table?”

A Challenge for Us

Jesus didn’t just sit at tables — He created space for people who normally wouldn’t have one. And as His followers, we’re called to do the same.

So here’s the question I’m asking myself lately:

Who am I inviting to the table?

Is it only people like me?
Only safe people?
Only convenient people?

Or am I making room for neighbors, coworkers, church family, skeptics, lonely friends, and people who just need to know they belong?

Because sometimes the most powerful ministry doesn’t happen from a stage — it happens from a chair around a table.

And honestly, some of the deepest discipleship I’ve ever seen started with food, laughter, board games, Scripture, and simply showing up together.

Jesus modeled it clearly:

“While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples.” — Matthew 9:10

“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” — Revelation 3:20

Jesus meets us at the table.
He invites us to His table.
And then He sends us out to make room at ours.

So again I’ll ask — for you and for I:

Who are we inviting to the table?

Lord Jesus, thank You for always making room for us at Your table. Thank You for Your grace, Your invitation, and the reminder that none of us belong there because we earned it — only because You love us.

Help us to see our own tables differently. Whether it’s over board games, meals, coffee, homework, Bible study, or simple conversation, show us how those moments can become sacred spaces. Give us eyes to notice the people who may feel unseen, lonely, or unsure if they belong.

Teach us to practice true hospitality — not to impress others, but to welcome them. Give us courage to invite, patience to listen, and hearts that reflect Yours. May our tables become places of laughter, healing, encouragement, and faith.

And Lord, remind us daily that we are always welcome at Your table first. Let that truth shape how we love others.

We ask all this in Your name, Jesus.
Amen.

You Die, I Die

~ John Johnson ~ Leave a comment

We are just coming off the back of Stranger Things season 5, and whether you are waiting for the “real ending” to come out or trying to cope with the fact that it is just over, I want to address a scene in this finale. (Warning ahead, there are mild spoilers and content from Season 5, so fair warning if you are trying to avoid that.)

“You die, I die”

The relationship between Steve Harringinton and Dustin Henderson in Stranger Things has always been one of my favorite things in the show. We see Steve stepping up in season 2 to take care of and protect Dustin and his friends, to becoming Dustin’s best friend as the seasons progress.

In Stranger Things Season 3, there’s a moment that feels small but sticks with you. Steve opens up what they think may be a bomb and tell everyone to back up. However Dustin, wide-eyed and loyal to the core, looks at Steve and says, “You die, I die.” It’s half dramatic, half humorous—but heartfelt. Dustin isn’t posturing. He’s declaring allegiance. Wherever you go, I go. Whatever happens to you, happens to me.

Then in Season 5, years later and after everything they’ve been through, while they are reconciling and preparing to go into the final fight, Steve recalls that moment and says it back to Dustin.

“You die, I die.”

Same words. Deeper meaning. Tested loyalty.

It’s no longer a joke. It’s a covenant. They have lived life together, seen horrible things, laughed, lost, and cried together. They have fought and argued with each other. This is friendship.

And every time I hear it, I can’t help but think about Jesus and our call to die to ourselves for Him as He has died for us.

(This clip has spoilers from season 5 of Stranger Things, and some language that may be slightly offensive. The video is to capture the moments of their relationship, but not necessary need to watch it for the rest of this blog.)

The Call to Die

Jesus never hid the cost of following Him. He didn’t sell a comfortable life, a safer path, or a faith that fits neatly into our schedules. Instead, He said something jarring:

“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”
— Luke 9:23

That’s not metaphorical fluff. In Jesus’ time, everyone knew what a cross meant. It meant death. Shame. The end of your old life.

To follow Jesus is to say, in a very real way, “You die, I die.”

Where You lead, I follow.
If You suffer, I suffer.
If You die to Yourself, I die to myself too.

Dying to Ourselves Isn’t Popular—But It’s Necessary

Our culture is obsessed with self-preservation:

  • Protect your brand
  • Guard your comfort
  • Curate your image
  • Do what makes you happy

But discipleship runs in the opposite direction.

Dying to ourselves means:

  • Letting go of pride
  • Releasing control
  • Saying no to sin even when it feels justified
  • Choosing obedience when it costs us something

Paul understood this deeply when he wrote:

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.”
— Galatians 2:20

That’s not poetic language—it’s identity. The old Paul died. A new life began.

Discipleship Is Shared Death—and Shared Life

One of the most beautiful parts of that Stranger Things moment isn’t just the words—it’s who says them. Dustin and Steve don’t survive alone. They grow together. They fail together. They keep showing up for each other.

That’s discipleship.

Following Jesus was never meant to be a solo journey. We are called to walk with others who are also learning how to die to themselves and live for Christ. People who can look at each other in moments of fear, temptation, or suffering and say, “I’m still with you.”

Not because it’s easy—but because it’s worth it.

Jesus Said It First

Before Dustin ever said it to Steve, before Steve ever said it back, Jesus lived it out for us.

Jesus didn’t say, “You die, I die.”
He said, “I’ll die so you can live.”

He took up His cross. He laid down His life. And then He invited us into that same pattern of death and resurrection.

Dying to ourselves isn’t the end of the story—it’s the beginning of real life.

“For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it.”
— Luke 9:24

So What Does That Mean for Us?

It means following Jesus will cost us something.
It means discipleship is more than belief—it’s surrender.
It means we don’t just admire Jesus; we imitate Him.

Every day, in small unseen ways, we choose:

  • The cross over comfort
  • Obedience over applause
  • Faithfulness over fear

And when we do, we echo the truest words of loyalty a disciple can say:

Jesus, You die… I die.

And somehow, in God’s upside-down kingdom, that’s where life truly begins.

Father God,

You did not call us to comfort, but to the cross.
You did not promise ease, but You promised life.

Today, we come before You acknowledging that we often cling to ourselves—
our pride, our plans, our need for control.
We confess that dying to ourselves is hard, and sometimes we resist it.

But You went first.

You carried the cross we deserved.
You laid down Your life so we could truly live.

So today we say it again, not lightly and not casually:
Where You go, we will go.
If You call us to die to ourselves, we will trust You with the outcome.

Teach us what it means to deny ourselves daily.
Help us lay down sin, fear, comfort, and distraction.
Form us into true disciples—not just hearers of Your Word,
but followers who live it out.

Surround us with people who walk this road with us,
who remind us of truth when we are weak,
and who point us back to You when we forget why we started.

Jesus, we want our lives to echo Yours.
Not our will, but Yours be done.
Not our lives, but Yours lived through us.

We trust You with our death—
and we trust You with the life that comes after.

In your son’s name, Jesus, we pray,
Amen.