Hello, friend. We all have something we instinctively reach for when life feels uncertain. For some of us, it is money. For others, it is a carefully made plan, a steady job, good health, the approval of someone we love, or simply the feeling that we are still in control. These can all be good gifts. 

But what we run to for refuge reveals what we treasure most. Good gifts become fragile refuges when we ask them to give us the safety, satisfaction, or peace that only Jesus can provide.

In today’s edition:

🇱🇦 Why believers in Laos risk security to follow Christ

🤏🏼 What the rich fool misunderstood about having enough

🇸🇸 How churches in South Sudan offer hope amid instability

When Christ Is Worth More 🇱🇦

For many believers in Laos, following Jesus can come at a real cost. 

Some Christians face pressure from local authorities or their own communities to renounce their faith. Others have been cast out of their villages or lost jobs. And many have seen churches restricted simply because they chose to follow Christ.

Still, God continues strengthening his church.

Through their costly faithfulness, many believers in Laos show what their lives are built upon. They have discovered that even when earthly security becomes uncertain, Christ remains a treasure no one can take away.

Their faith reminds us that the gospel is not merely something to add to an already comfortable life. It is worth more than comfort or security because the refuge we have in Christ is greater than anything we could possibly lose.

How to Pray:

🙏🏼 Pray for believers in Laos to remain steadfast as they face pressure for following Jesus.

🙏🏼 Pray for churches to continue growing with wisdom, courage, and faithful witness throughout the country.

🙏🏼 Pray that many in Laos would discover the lasting hope and security found in Christ alone.

“Just a Little More” Will Never Be Enough 🤏🏼

Gaby and I got married young. We were both in college and money was tight. I remember regularly walking to a closed restaurant late at night just to sit on the curb outside and use the Wi-Fi. We picked up furniture people had left by the street, ate meals with older couples from church, and lived from one paycheck to the next. 

And honestly, we were happy. 

But as the years went by, the bills grew, our plans got bigger, and money started to feel like the answer to everything. I remember telling Gaby, “I don’t want to be rich. I just want enough so we can finally stop worrying.” It sounded reasonable. But hidden inside that desire was a dangerous assumption: that a little more money could give us the safety, satisfaction, and peace we were really looking for.

That is the danger Jesus exposed in Luke 12. 

A man interrupted him to demand help securing an inheritance. Perhaps he had even been treated unfairly, but this man wasn’t asking for a fair trial. He had already come to his own conclusion: what was his brother’s belonged to him.

Jesus saw beneath the dispute to the belief driving it. This man thought his life would be better, fuller, and more secure if he could only get what he believed belonged to him.

Jesus warned the crowd, “One’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” 

Then he told a story about a wealthy farmer whose land produced an extraordinary harvest. The man had more than he could store, so he planned to build larger barns. His problem was not that he worked hard, planned ahead, or received an abundant crop. His folly was treating his abundance as a refuge.

He spoke to his soul as though full barns could guarantee peace: “You have enough for many years. Relax. Eat, drink, and enjoy yourself.” But that very night, he died.

The man had planned for every possibility except the one certainty he could not control. His barns were full, but they could not hold his life. He had accumulated enough to feel secure, but not enough to keep death outside the door.

We may never build literal barns, but we build other kinds of shelters. 

We imagine a larger savings account will quiet every fear. We believe a better job will settle our sense of worth. We expect a relationship, a house, a certain lifestyle, or the approval of others to make us complete. These are often good gifts. The problem begins when we place the weight of our souls upon them.

Created things are fragile foundations. Money can disappear. Health can fail. Careers can change. People can disappoint us or be taken from us. And even when we receive exactly what we wanted, the satisfaction rarely lasts. “Enough” remains beyond our reach.

This does not mean we should distrust every pleasure or feel guilty for enjoying God’s gifts. Scripture gives us a better way than either worshiping the world or withdrawing from it. Ecclesiastes tells us to eat, drink, work, and enjoy what God has given because these things are gifts from His hand.

A gift can be deeply enjoyed without being asked to save us.

That distinction changes everything. When we treat life as something we must secure for ourselves, we become anxious, possessive, and dissatisfied. We clutch what we have because we believe our peace depends upon keeping it. But when we receive life as a gift, our hands can remain open. We can enjoy what God gives without demanding that it last forever. We can also share it because we no longer see ourselves as owners but as grateful stewards.

Jesus calls this being “rich toward God.” 

It is not measured by how little or how much we possess. It is a life rooted in the Giver rather than the gifts—a life that trusts God enough to receive with gratitude, give with generosity, and release without despair.

This trust is not naïve. Some fears are real. Bills arrive. Bodies weaken. Futures remain uncertain. Christianity does not ask us to pretend these things do not hurt. It asks us to remember that none of them has the final word.

Our deepest safety cannot be taken from us because it rests in Christ. 

Our deepest satisfaction is not something we purchase or achieve; it is found in knowing him. 

Our peace does not come from controlling tomorrow, but from belonging to the One who already stands there.

Everything in this world will eventually leave our hands. But those who belong to Jesus will not be left empty. Christ entered death and came out the other side. Because he lives, our lives are no longer defined by what we can preserve before death arrives.

So enjoy the gifts. Thank God for them. Use them well. Share them freely. 

But do not build your refuge out of anything you will one day have to leave behind.

—Steven Morales

When Every Earthly Refuge Feels Fragile 🇸🇸

In South Sudan, uncertainty is a familiar reality. 

Ongoing political tensions, displacement, food insecurity, and reduced humanitarian aid continue affecting millions of people across the country. For many families, the future can feel as uncertain as the present.

Even then, churches continue serving their neighbors and proclaiming the hope of the gospel.

Across South Sudan, believers are caring for displaced families, pursuing reconciliation in divided communities, and faithfully proclaiming the gospel. In a place where earthly security has repeatedly proven fragile, the church continues pointing people to the only refuge that cannot be shaken.

A believer’s hope is not built on stable circumstances but on a faithful Savior. Even when peace feels distant and tomorrow is uncertain, Christ remains the same, and his church continues bearing witness to that hope.

How to Pray:

🙏🏼 Pray for peace, wisdom, and lasting stability throughout South Sudan.

🙏🏼 Pray for churches as they care for vulnerable families, pursue reconciliation, and faithfully share the hope of the gospel.

🙏🏼 Pray that many in South Sudan would find lasting refuge in Christ, even when every earthly source of security feels uncertain.

📍 Attention Worthy

• Everyday Radical is back. This week, David and Austin are joined by Steven for a conversation about persecution, storytelling, and what it means to remember suffering believers as though we were there with them.

• Barnabas and the ministry of stepping back. Faithfulness isn’t always found in leading from the front. Sometimes the greatest impact comes from helping others flourish.

• Have you lost your hunger for Scripture? Bible neglect is often a heart issue before it’s a habit issue. But God delights in restoring our appetite for his Word.