Day 1: Not Mine
1 Corinthians 1:2 To the church of God at Corinth…
There’s a feeling we get when someone messes with our stuff.
- The coffee mug that’s always in its specific spot.
- The chair tilted at just the right angle.
- The throw pillow fluffed exactly how you like it.
Someone changes it, and something in you bristles, “Mine.”
We’re possessive, it seems, by nature. We stake our claims on everything from parking spots to pews. We plant our flags and draw our lines. “This is my territory. My space. My comfort zone.”
And then, maybe without even realizing, we do it with God’s church.
We speak of “my church” with possessive pride. We’ve got strong opinions about how things should be done, who should lead what, and how resources should be used. We might even say, though probably not out loud, “Who do they think they are, changing my church?”
But Paul’s words are a gentle correction to our ownership mentality: “To the church of God at Corinth.” Not the church of Paul. Not the church of influential members. Not the church of longtime attenders. The church of God.
This isn’t careless phrasing; it’s a correction for how we think about church. The church belongs to God, not us. He:
- Purchased it with His blood
- Rules it through His Word
- Energizes it by His Spirit
- Advances it for His glory
When we forget this truth, we become critics instead of participants. We judge everything by our preferences rather than God’s purposes.
What if we always came to church with this thought: “This isn’t mine.”? What if we held our opinions, traditions, and preferences with open hands instead of clenched fists? What if we approached each decision, change, and challenge with the humble recognition that this is God’s church, not ours?
Here’s something beautiful: The moment we release our grip on “our” church is the moment we truly find our place in it. So, remember, it’s God’s church, not yours.
Prayer: Father, I know I can be possessive, even over the church. Please help me to let go of my need for control and comfort. Give me joy as I find my place in Your church. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Day 2: The Main Character
1 Corinthians 1:2 To the church of God at Corinth, to those sanctified in Christ Jesus, called as saints, with all those in every place who call on the name of Jesus Christ our Lord—both their Lord and ours.
You’ve heard of “main character syndrome,” right? It’s that tendency to view yourself as the hero of every story, the center of every scene, the reason for every plot twist. We’re swimming in a cultural current that whispers, “It’s all about you.”
And that current doesn’t stop at the church doors.
We slip into the sanctuary with our invisible consumer checklists.
- Was the music to my liking?
- Did the sermon address my needs?
- Were the people friendly enough to me?
- Did the experience meet my expectations?
We evaluate, we critique, we compare—all through the lens of me, myself, and I.
But Paul’s words to the Corinthians deliver a rebuke to our self-centered spirituality. The church is about Jesus, not us. Look at the text again. It’s those “sanctified in Christ Jesus” who “call on the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.“
The church isn’t a spiritual spa designed for your comfort. It’s not a religious goods and services provider catering to your preferences. It’s not a stage for your talents or a platform for your opinions.
The church is Jesus’ blood-bought people gathered around Jesus’ life-giving Gospel to worship Jesus’ matchless name.
When we forget this, we:
- Reduce worship to entertainment
- Transform community into networking
- Mistake service for self-promotion
How would church be different if you approached each gathering asking not “What’s in this for me?” but “How might Jesus be glorified here today?” What if you viewed every ministry opportunity, every relationship, every decision through the lens of what magnifies Christ rather than what pleases you?
Here’s the truth: You will never find fulfillment in a church that’s all about you. True joy comes when you lose yourself in a church that’s all about Jesus.
Prayer: Heavenly Father, there are times that I make church all about me. I’m sorry; I know it’s not right. Please forgive me. And help my heart see that the church is all about Jesus, not me. In His name I pray, amen.
Day 3: Beyond These Walls
1 Corinthians 1:2 …with all those in every place who call on the name of Jesus Christ our Lord—both their Lord and ours.
I’m sure you feel it—that gravitational pull toward comfort and familiarity. It’s the subtle desire to surround yourself with people who look like you, think like you, act like you, worship like you. We all feel it—this instinct to create a spiritual bubble where we’re safe, understood, and unchallenged.
But Paul’s words burst our bubbles with a global perspective. The church in Corinth wasn’t an isolated spiritual island. It was connected to believers “in every place” who called on the same Lord. The same Jesus who was Lord in cosmopolitan Corinth was Lord in provincial Philippi, sophisticated Athens, and imperial Rome.
The church is for the world, not just us.
This isn’t a nice add-on to church life. It’s fundamental to our identity. The Gospel that saved you wasn’t meant to terminate on you. The church that nurtures you wasn’t designed to revolve around you. The gifts God gave you weren’t intended to serve only those already inside.
The light that illuminated your darkness was meant to shine through you to those still stumbling in shadows.
When we forget this outward focus, we become:
- A club rather than a mission
- A fortress rather than a hospital
- A museum rather than a rescue operation
What names come to mind when you think about those who need Jesus? Your difficult neighbor? That family member who’s rejected faith? The coworker whose lifestyle seems opposed to everything you believe? The church exists for them too.
The question that should haunt us is not “Are we being fed?” (though that’s important), but “Are we feeding others?” Not “Are we comfortable?”, but “Are we comforting those in despair?” Not “Do we feel at home?”, but “Are we creating a home for the spiritually homeless?”
The beautiful paradox is this: a church that exists for those outside its walls creates the deepest sense of purpose for those inside its walls.
Prayer: God, I enjoy being part of a church that makes me feel comfortable. But, I know that’s not all there is to church. Remind me today that the church isn’t just for me; remind me that it’s for the world too. And help me take the Gospel out to those that haven’t trusted in Jesus yet for salvation. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Day 4: Transformed Belonging
Ephesians 2:19-22 So then you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with the saints, and members of God’s household, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole building, being put together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you are also being built together for God’s dwelling in the Spirit.
I don’t watch many home renovation shows; maybe you do. Either way, you know how it goes. Each episode has the dramatic before-and-after reveal, the crumbling foundations transformed, the rotting beams replaced, and the outdated fixtures modernized. There’s always that moment where the designer points to the structural disaster and says, “This has to go.”
Your spiritual life was that condemned structure.
Before Christ, you were a spiritual nomad—rootless, homeless, disconnected. Or, to say it like Paul, “foreigners and strangers.” You were on the outside looking in. You had no foundation, no stability, no belonging.
But God wasn’t content to leave you wandering.
He didn’t just patch up your spiritual life. He didn’t merely slap on a fresh coat of paint over the decay. He did a complete, foundation-to-rooftop renovation. And He didn’t use ordinary building materials. He used extraordinary ones:
- The cornerstone of Christ Himself
- The foundation of apostolic truth
- The living stones of fellow believers
When God renovates, He goes all in. He doesn’t build temporary shelters; He builds eternal temples. He doesn’t create individual dwelling places; He creates a unified household.
Look at those words again: “built together,” “grows,” “being put together.” The construction words aren’t accidental. They reveal something about what God is doing in His church. His work in the church is:
- Progressive (still underway)
- Purposeful (with a divine design)
- Communal (not isolated materials but interconnected parts)
What would change if you saw church not as a weekly meeting but as a continuous building project? What if every difficult person, every challenging situation, every uncomfortable change was actually God’s construction equipment—reshaping, refitting, realigning you to fit perfectly with others in His house?
The beauty is that this building isn’t being assembled for its own sake. There’s a purpose behind the scaffolding and dust: “for God’s dwelling in the Spirit.” God is building a home for Himself. And incredibly, miraculously, that home is us. Together.
Prayer: Father, thank you for giving me a church family where you are building Your Kingdom. Whenever I’m frustrated with the church, help me remember that You are doing Your work for Your glory. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Day 5: Surrendered Opinions
1 Corinthians 1:2 To the church of God at Corinth…
You’ve got strong opinions, don’t you? About how the music should sound. About how long the sermon should be. About what programs the church should offer. About what color the carpet should be (or if there should be carpet at all). About how the money should be spent. About who should lead what.
I get it. I’ve got opinions too. Strong ones.
There’s nothing wrong with having opinions. It becomes a problem when we elevate our opinions to the status of commandments, when we mistake our preferences for principles, or when we confuse our taste with truth.
Paul begins his letter with a needed correction: “To the church of God at Corinth.” It’s not to the church of the pastors, the church of the founding members, or the church of the biggest givers. It’s the church of God.
This simple phrase demolishes our entitled opinions. If the church belongs to God—not us—then our opinions must be held with reverent humility, not dogmatic certainty.
When you find yourself saying or thinking:
- “The church should never change this tradition…”
- “The church must start this new ministry…”
- “The church has to address this issue my way…”
Stop and ask: Is this God’s revealed will or my personal preference? Am I speaking as though I’m the owner rather than a steward?
What would change if you approached church opinions the way you approach someone else’s home? You might have thoughts about their décor or how they’ve arranged their furniture, but you’d never demand they rearrange it all to suit your taste. You’re a guest, not the homeowner. God sets the direction for the church, not us.
Here’s the thing: when we surrender our grip on our opinions—when we hold them loosely rather than white-knuckled—we find freedom. Freedom from the exhausting work of trying to control everything. Freedom from the bitter disappointment when things don’t go our way. Freedom to experience church as it was meant to be experienced: not as our personal project but as God’s redemptive work.
Your opinions aren’t worthless. They may even be valuable. But they must always be surrendered to the One whose church it actually is.
Prayer: Heavenly Father, I care about my church. I’ve got opinions about how things should be done. Help me to never equate my opinions with your commands. I know the church belongs to You– help me to think and act like it. Let it be for Your glory, amen.
Day 6: Saints in Progress
1 Corinthians 1:2 To the church of God at Corinth, to those sanctified in Christ Jesus, called as saints…
Have you ever heard someone say, “I don’t go to church because it’s full of hypocrites”? Maybe you’ve thought it yourself at times. Or maybe you’ve looked around at the broken, messy people filling the pews and wondered why God’s family looks so… imperfect.
It’s a fair question. But it shows a misunderstanding about what the church really is.
Look at how Paul describes these Corinthian believers: “sanctified in Christ Jesus, called as saints.” That sounds impressive, doesn’t it? But if you keep reading the letter, you’ll find this “sanctified” church was split by division, tolerating sexual immorality, suing each other in court, getting drunk at Communion, and misusing spiritual gifts.
Some saints, right?
But here’s the stunning, encouraging reality: Paul wasn’t being sarcastic or ironic in his opening words. He was showing their true identity—not based on their current behavior but on their position in Christ.
The church isn’t a showcase for finished saints; it’s a workshop for saints in progress.
When we expect perfection from the church, we:
- Set ourselves up for inevitable disappointment
- Create environments where authenticity is dangerous
- Foster facades instead of fostering growth
- Forget our own desperate need for grace
What if you viewed every irritating quirk, every frustrating failure, every hurtful mistake of your fellow church members through the lens of “saints in progress”? What if you saw the church not as a museum displaying finished masterpieces but as an artist’s studio filled with works in various stages of completion?
The miracle of the church isn’t its perfection but its direction. We are being sanctified—progressively transformed into the image of Christ. The word “sanctified” in the Greek (the original language this was written in) shows both a completed action (positionally set apart for God) and an ongoing process (practically becoming more like Jesus).
This tension between who we already are in Christ and who we are becoming in practice isn’t a bug in the system. It’s the very design. It’s what makes the church simultaneously glorious and messy, divine and all-too-human.
Prayer: Lord, I admit to You that I’m not perfect…not even close. Sometimes I expect people in the church to be perfect. Please help me to have grace and remember that we are all a work in progress. I pray this in the name of Jesus, amen.
Day 7: The Disruptive Invitation
Matthew 28:19-20 Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.
Your phone buzzes. Another notification. Another email. Another meeting invite. Your calendar—that digital real estate of your life—is getting more crowded by the minute. Every slot filled. Every hour accounted for. Your time, your schedule, your agenda.
Then Jesus breaks in with the most disruptive invitation imaginable: “Go.”
Not “stay comfortable.” Not “maintain your routines.” Not “keep your life exactly as it is and maybe add a little Jesus flavor when convenient.” But go.
This isn’t a polite suggestion. It’s a divine commission that reorients everything. It’s the Great Commission because it demands great surrender, great sacrifice, great faith.
We’ve domesticated these words, haven’t we? Reduced them to a missions committee budget line or an occasional short-term trip. But Jesus never intended His final earthly command to be compartmentalized into a church program.
This going—this disciple-making—is meant to disrupt:
- Your comfortable social circles
- Your carefully guarded weekends
- Your financially secure future
- Your culturally acceptable ambitions
What if the Great Commission isn’t just about sending missionaries to far-off lands (though it certainly includes that)? What if it’s about letting your life be constantly interrupted by divine appointments? What if it’s about your neighborhood, your workplace, your family gatherings, your coffee shop conversations?
The beautiful thing about this disruption is that it comes with a promise: “I am with you always.” The One who commissions also accompanies. The One who sends also sustains. The One who disrupts also delights to walk with you through every open door, every awkward conversation, every rejected invitation, every fruitful connection.
How would your day look different if you saw every interaction as a potential discipleship moment? What if you viewed your home, your job, your hobbies not as your personal domains but as mission fields entrusted to your care?
The church isn’t just for the world in theory. It’s for the world through you—your hands, your words, your time, your love. Today.
Prayer: Father God, I like being comfortable. I realize that your call to share the Gospel with the world isn’t always comfortable. Please give me the boldness and courage I need to share the Good News with others. I ask this in Jesus’ name, amen.