INTRO

This summer we’ve been hitting reset.

I don’t know if any of you have been bowling recently. I don’t think our kids have ever gone—and honestly, we might need to make that a church event. If you remember bowling, there was always that little reset button you could push when things got out of whack—pins didn’t fall right, a ball got stuck, or the lane just glitched. You’d hit reset, and it would try to put everything back where it belonged.

But sometimes that reset would wipe out everything and break more than it fixed. So... maybe that analogy doesn’t quite hold up.

Let’s try this instead.

We just bought a Switch 2—and with it, the latest Mario Kart: Mario Kart World. And as is tradition in every Mario Kart game, when you fall off the course or get stuck, there’s this little guy named Lakitu—a turtle floating on a cloud—who swoops down, fishes you up, and drops you gently back on the track. He just puts you back, facing the right direction, almost as if to say, “Alright—keep going.” 

That’s the kind of reset we’ve been talking about.

Not erasing everything. Not starting from scratch.

But letting Jesus pick us up, reorient us, and put us back on the track—so we can keep going.

We’ve paused our series in the book of Acts—not because it wasn’t fruitful, but because we felt God nudging us to refocus.

To reset our minds.

To come back to the Word.

To remember that you can’t run the race if your mind and heart are flooded with everything but the voice of God.

THE UNINFORMED MIND

Tyler Staton, in Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools, writes:

“The unformed mind doesn’t go to God when it’s idle—it goes to anxiety, fear, lust, anger. You don’t drift into discipleship.”

When our minds are left untrained, unformed by God’s Word, they wander into dark places.

We worry about the future—our plans, our safety, what’s coming next. And that worry breeds anxiety. Someone once asked me,

“Zach, how do you look at everything happening around us—the war, the sickness, the deepening cultural divide—and not fall into despair? How do you turn on the news without being overwhelmed by fear?”

I gave the simple answer: Don’t watch the news. But there’s a deeper truth at work.

Fixating on the future leads to anxiety and fear, but meditating on God’s Word fills us with hope.

Jesus illustrates this in the parable of the sower:

“The seed that fell among the thorns represents those who hear God’s word, but all too quickly the message is crowded out by the worries of this life and the lure of wealth, so no fruit is produced.” (Matthew 13:22, NLT)

When we allow the worries of this life to crowd out God’s truth, we make ourselves poor soil—unfruitful, unreceptive.

But it’s not just the future that can trap us. When we fixate on the past—on mistakes, on hurts, on regrets—it leads to shame, anger, and bitterness.

Paul calls this poison. He commands us in Ephesians 4:31–32 to “Get rid of it!” because bitterness is incompatible with the gospel community.

Hebrews 12:15 warns us:

“See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many.” (NIV)

Bitterness and resentment grow like a root that infects and defiles many.

But when we meditate on Scripture—when God’s Word shapes our hearts—the fruit that grows is inexpressible joy. Joy in the moment and hope for the future.

A JOYFUL REUNION

This is the fruit of God’s Word. This is what Jesus tells us in John 15:11:

“These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.”

The Word of God brings joy. Real, lasting joy.

Joy in the Bible is often pictured as a reunion. But what does that mean?

Have you ever been away from your family for a while? Maybe from your spouse, your kids, or close friends?

For me, after a week away from my kids, it’s not always a big reunion. Sometimes it’s just a quick, “Hey, good to see you, Dad,” before they go back to their rooms.

But maybe you’ve experienced something deeper—like the kind of reunion where the joy is bursting, the anticipation has been building for weeks or months. Maybe you’ve watched videos of soldiers returning home, surprising their families after deployment—those moments when joy explodes into tears, laughter, and embraces.

That growing anticipation, the joy on the horizon—that’s the kind of joy the Bible points to.

It’s a joy that helps you endure the waiting, the hard seasons, because you know the reunion is coming.

That’s biblical joy.

We can live with joy in every season because we’re looking forward to when all things are made right—when we’ll sing and dance with those we love, in the presence of our amazing God.

It’s like the father in the parable of the prodigal son—waiting, watching the road, already picturing the moment he runs out to meet his son.

That’s us.

Looking forward to heaven while we live outside Eden, still in the shadow of death.

There is a great reunion coming—when those who belong to Christ will be with Him in joy that is full, in glory beyond words.

But here’s the danger: when we meditate too much on the here and now—what was, what could be—we lose sight of that joy.

When we don’t intentionally fill our minds with God’s Word—His thoughts—our minds become idle and wander into darkness.

So what do we do?

We fill the idle moments with God’s Word.

Like when you’re in the bathroom, for example. (I probably shouldn’t say this—but I’m going to risk it.)

There are memes everywhere about how nobody can “poop without their phone” these days. It’s a modern problem.

Instead of scrolling through mindless distractions, redeem those moments. Fill them with Scripture.

Sure, there are many other “idle moments” in your day that don’t involve bathrooms—moments waiting in line, driving, folding laundry—moments that can be sacred if we choose.

We take captive every thought, every idle moment, and bring it under Jesus’ authority.

We don’t drift passively into righteousness.

We actively walk into the good deposit that God has already poured into us.

WORK IT OUT ACTIVELY

This is an active process. Paul tells us in Philippians 2:12-13:

“Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” (ESV)

Notice: Paul says work out your salvation. This isn’t passive. This isn’t sitting back waiting for God to do all the work while you do nothing.

What we often want from God is easy. We want to pray once, get changed instantly, and be done. Like in The Matrix, we want God to just download patience or love or peace into our brains.

I mean, that’s my problem with language learning, right? I don’t want to learn a language—I just want to know other languages.

We want the result without the effort.

That’s why our media is flooded with miracle pills that promise to kill fat without exercise, or gadgets that claim to give us six-pack abs without the gym.

We want shortcuts to righteousness, peace, and joy.

Does anyone know what a TENS unit is? Other than Elliott—because I borrowed his.

TENS stands for Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation. It’s a device that sends small electrical pulses through your skin to stimulate muscles or nerves. Physical therapists use them for recovery, to reduce pain, or to activate muscles after injury.

They’re super helpful in the right context.

But have you seen how they’re advertised for fitness? “Put this on your abs and do thousands of sit-ups while you sit on the couch watching TV!”

No sweat. No discipline. No effort. Just zap your way to a six-pack.

And let’s be honest—we’re drawn to that. Results without effort. Growth without the grind. Transformation without the training.

But spiritual life doesn’t work like that.

Paul doesn’t say, hook yourself up to a quick spiritual fix. He says, work out your salvation with fear and trembling.

This doesn’t mean earning your salvation—no.

It means engaging with it.

Cooperating with what God is already doing inside you.

It’s not passive.

It’s daily.

It’s intentional obedience.

WORK IT OUT FROM YOUR SALVATION

The word Paul uses here for “work” is κατεργάζομαι (katergazomai). If you listen closely, you might hear a bit of energize in it.

Paul is communicating something powerful: we are called to continually work to bring our salvation to full expression—to fight for it to be realized in us and to move out through us.

It’s an active process of producing the evidence of our faith.

But here’s the crucial thing: for us to be working out our salvation, there has to be something already there inside us.

Salvation isn’t something we build from nothing—it’s something that already exists within us.

Verse 13 says,

“For it is God who works in you…”

God has put something inside you. He is working in you right now—actively shaping, transforming, renewing.

If we step back a few verses, Paul reminds us:

“Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 2:5)

That mind—the mind of Christ—is already yours.

The fruits of the Spirit—the fruits of your salvation—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness—they’re already present, like adult teeth coming in to replace baby teeth.

They are growing in you, because you have the mind of Christ.

Here’s the key truth: We don’t work for our salvation.

Salvation was given to you through the finished work of Christ on the cross.

It is God’s work in you, not something you manufacture.

God is working in.

You are called to work out.

Does that make sense?

You work out from what God is working in you.

You manifest what God is already putting inside you.

It’s not about earning—it’s about participation.

Dallas Willard said it well: “Grace is not opposed to effort; it is opposed to earning. Earning is an attitude. Effort is an action.”

Grace doesn’t cancel out effort—in fact, real grace empowers effort. What grace cancels is the mindset that we have to earn God’s love.

We don’t work for our salvation—We work from it.

God is already at work in you—so don’t coast.

Cooperate.

Work it out.

WITH US IN THE MESS

One way we work out our salvation is through what the Bible calls abiding in the Lord.

John 15, which we touched on earlier, has a lot to say about abiding. Experiencing real joy in this life is deeply connected to abiding in the Word of God.

Joy comes as we saturate ourselves, as we soak, as we live in the Word of God every day.

Earlier in John’s Gospel, Jesus said to those who believed Him: “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:31-32, ESV)

We are called to abide in the Word of God. To live there.

In the Bible, the idea of abiding means to spend an extended amount of time in someone’s house. That’s why you’ll often see it translated as dwell.

The King James Version even says continue, which sounds less intense, but it really means to persist—to remain.

Live in God’s Word. Dwell there. Abide in Him.

There’s an old word people used to describe this reality—maybe you’ve heard it—tarry.

Not like Mr. Henry over there—tarry.

There’s that old hymn, “In the Garden”, maybe you’ve heard it. The chorus goes: “And He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own; And the joy we share as we tarry there, None other has ever…”

Tarry. To linger. To let the Word of God sit with you. Or better yet, to sit with it for an extended time.

We like to visit Jesus now and again—here and there. We pop in to say hi during a quiet moment or on Sunday mornings. But do we remain? Do we linger? Are we truly abiding?

Last week, Matt Chandler preached a sermon called “With Us in the Mess.”

While his focus was more on suffering, it’s a powerful reminder of what abiding looks like—God is with us in the mess. Not just for the occasional visit we choose to make, but in the everyday.

When we said “yes” to Jesus, we signed up for a relationship that lasts our entire lives—not just a few moments here and there.

He is Immanuel—God with us—in the mess.

This abiding presence is what empowers us to work out our salvation, to live faithfully through the ups and downs, the chaos and the quiet.

God isn’t distant or detached. He’s not waiting for you to get it all right before drawing near.

He is with you, right now, in the mess, inviting you to tarry, to dwell, to abide in Him—because that’s where true life and joy are found.

GOD STARTED IT

God started it!

He came to be with us. Now let’s keep it going—by abiding, dwelling with Him in His Word throughout the day, every day.

If we return for a moment to that verse from Philippians: “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” (Philippians 2:12-13, ESV)

God started it.

Jesus has worked it in—now you go and work it out.

What God has poured into you by His Spirit—take that and live it. Let it move through your choices, your habits, your prayers, your relationships, your joy.

This is not about trying harder. This is about waking up to what’s already inside you. The power of the resurrection. The presence of the Holy Spirit. The voice of the Father. Already at work. Already moving. He has not abandoned you.

So what I hope you walk away with today is joyful permission—the eager realization that you can lean into Jesus a whole lot more. Maybe you say today—not in shame, but in faith: “I can lean into Jesus a whole lot more.”

Not because I have to earn it,

But because He’s worth it.

Because He’s already here.

Because God started it—and He’s not done yet.

So here’s where it all comes together: If God is already at work in you—if He’s started something beautiful and eternal—then don’t just give Him your occasional visits. Give Him every moment.

When your mind would normally wander—fill it with His Word.

When you’re driving… folding laundry… scrolling your phone… abide.

Let Scripture be the melody your heart returns to again and again—a sacred background soundtrack to your day.

There’s a verse in Psalm 119 that I love: “Your decrees have been the theme of my songs wherever I have lived.” (Psalm 119:54, NLT)

Imagine what your life would feel like if the Word of God wasn’t just something you visited, but something you lived in.

What kind of peace? What kind of joy? What kind of presence would go with you into every room?

Let worship slip into the cracks of your schedule.

Let prayer be the breath between meetings.

This is how we work it out—by staying closer.

Because He’s already with you—in the quiet, in the chaos, and in the mess. So lean in.

Fill the idle with the eternal.

And you’ll find joy—not just in mountaintop moments, but as you tarry there… all day long.

Where’s one place in your daily rhythm where you can begin to tarry with Jesus?

Ask the Holy Spirit to show you.

He’s already working in you.