05/08/2026
Friday Food for Thought: Where Is Our Security?
Mother’s Day approaches, and with it comes a mix of gratitude, joy, grief, and longing. For some, it is a weekend filled with celebration and beloved memories. For others, it quietly exposes absence, disappointment, exhaustion, or unanswered prayers. Some mothers feel invisible. Some women ache because they want to be mothers. Some carry wounds from mothers who should have protected them but did not. Some children miss the voice they used to hear every year. And this is where the church must carefully think, Where is Our Security?
The world tells us to build our identity on the roles we treasure most. Be a great mother. Be a strong father. Build a beautiful family. Hold everything together. But the gospel pushes back…even the best gifts from God were never meant to carry the weight of being God. Families are beautiful, but they are fragile. Relationships strain. Health fades. Children grow up. Life changes faster than we expect. If our deepest hope is rooted in any earthly role or relationship, eventually the weight will crush us. That is not cynicism, that is life east of Eden.
Scripture does not ultimately define us by our roles: mother, father, child, single, married, but by our union with Christ. This does not diminish those roles; it places them in their proper context. In Isaiah 40, God speaks tenderly to weary people: “He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young.” Isaiah 40:11.
Notice what God does. He gathers. He carries. He leads gently. The promise is not that his people will never feel weary. The promise is that they will never be abandoned in their weariness. The Shepherd Isaiah promised is the Shepherd Jesus claims to be. Jesus does not stand far away demanding perfection from exhausted people. He comes near to weak people and becomes their strength. Paul writes, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” 2 Corinthians 4:7.
The Christian life is not about pretending we are strong enough; it is about finally admitting we are not. The world says, “Hold it all together.” Christ says, “I will hold you.” That is the difference between religion and gospel. Religion tells us to climb higher, try harder, and be enough. The gospel says that Christ has come down to rescue people who could never save themselves.
John Calvin once wrote: “We shall never be clothed with the righteousness of Christ except we first know assuredly that we have no righteousness of our own.” Those words may sound sharp, but they are deeply freeing. Because, if Christ is our righteousness, then neither our failures nor our successes have the final word.
Mother’s Day should never become a day where part of the church celebrates while another part quietly disappears into the background. The church is family because Christ is our Savior. Jesus says: “For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” Matthew 12:50. This does not diminish earthly family; it expands it!
The woman without children is no less valuable in the kingdom of God. The grieving mother is not forgotten. The single adult is not spiritually incomplete. The exhausted parent is not unseen. The elderly saint sitting quietly in the back still belongs fully to the family of God. Our culture constantly divides people by status, achievement, stage of life, or visible success. The gospel gathers people around grace.
We do not stand before God boasting in our résumés, our parenting, our relationships, or our accomplishments. We come empty-handed, and Christ receives us.
So where do we anchor our hearts? Not in health, family, stability, control, or even in ourselves. Our promise is Christ himself. Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will sn**ch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to sn**ch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.” John 10:27–30.
That is our security. Not that we hold onto Jesus perfectly, but that He holds onto His people perfectly. The Christian hope has never been, “I am strong enough.” It has always been, “The Shepherd will not lose His sheep.”
Imagine a quiet road turning into the mountains. Clouds hang low over the hills. The air seems cold and honest. In the distance, scattered across the landscape, a small flock of sheep slowly moves along the path. They do not know every turn ahead. They can't see beyond the mountains. They are small against the vastness around them. But they are not alone. They are watched, led, and kept. So are we.
The promise is not that we will always understand the road. The promise is in our security that the Shepherd walks with us and He will bring His people home.
Pastor Garret
