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Instruments in the Redeemer's Hands

People in Need of Change Helping People in Need of Change

Paul David Tripp

Why Read This

How God uses ordinary people in relationship to genuinely shape others toward Christ.

God's primary tools for transformation aren't programs or professionals — they're ordinary people in everyday relationships. Tripp shows that most people don't need a therapist; they need a friend who knows how to have an honest, caring conversation.

Pillar: Faith Theme: Disciple Read: ~11 min
10 Insights Worth the Read

The Book in Bullets

Everything Tripp wants you to walk away with

1

God's primary instrument for personal transformation is not programs or sermons — it is people in real, sustained relationship.

The church is the instrument. Every conversation you have is an opportunity to help someone change. Most people don't need a therapist — they need a friend who knows how to have an honest, caring conversation.

2

The subtitle says it all: people in need of change helping people in need of change.

You don't need to have your life together before you can help someone else. In fact, the shared awareness that you're both broken is what creates the credibility and humility that effective ministry requires.

3

Effective personal ministry moves through four stages: love, know, speak, and do.

First, enter their world with genuine care. Second, listen for what's really going on beneath the surface. Third, bring the gospel to bear on what you've discovered. Fourth, walk alongside them for the long haul. Skip a step and the whole process breaks down.

4

Surface behavior change without heart transformation does not last.

Ask not just what someone is doing but what they love, fear, and believe. That's where lasting change begins. The heart is the control center — if it doesn't change, the behavior will eventually revert.

5

Most of us default to two unhelpful responses: we either avoid hard conversations or we deliver truth without love.

The avoider preserves peace at the expense of honesty. The confronter delivers truth at the expense of relationship. Both are failures of love. The goal is truth spoken in the context of genuine care — which requires both courage and tenderness.

6

You are always doing personal ministry — the only question is whether you're doing it well.

Every interaction shapes the people around you. Your words, tone, timing, and presence are all communicating something. The question isn't whether to minister but whether to do it intentionally and skillfully.

7

Listening is the most underrated ministry skill — most people feel unseen and unheard.

Before you can speak truth into someone's life, you must earn the right to be heard. That right is earned by listening — deeply, patiently, and without an agenda to fix. People open up to those who make them feel understood.

8

The gospel isn't just for conversion — it's the daily resource for ongoing transformation.

Tripp insists that the same gospel that saves you is the gospel that changes you today. It's not just the entry point — it's the power source for every stage of growth. Discipleship without the gospel becomes moralism.

9

Long-term accompaniment is the hardest and most valuable part — change doesn't happen in one conversation.

The 'do' stage means walking with someone over weeks, months, and years. Quick fixes don't exist in real life. The people who make the biggest difference are those who refuse to leave when progress is slow.

10

Every relationship is an opportunity to be an instrument in the Redeemer's hands — if you're willing to be used.

God is at work everywhere, in everyone, all the time. Your job is to pay attention, enter in with humility, and trust that he will use your imperfect efforts for his perfect purposes. You are the tool — he is the craftsman.

These notes are inspired by direct excerpts and woven together into a readable guide you can follow from start to finish.

Chapter 1 — The Best of News: A Reason to Get Up in the Morning

History has been moving toward one announcement, and that announcement gives everyone who endures the harsh realities of the Fall the only valid reason to get up in the morning.

When Jesus announced, “The time has come. The kingdom of God is near. Repent and believe the good news!” he was doing more than introducing himself. It is tempting to read those words in Mark 1:15 as a kind of personal advertisement, but his announcement is more than that. It gives all of us who endure the harsh realities of the Fall the only valid reason to get up in the morning — a hope that is wonderfully practical and intensely personal. Those opening words — “The time has come” — say everything. God had not forgotten or lost interest in humanity. Since that horrible first fall into sin, he had been bringing the world to this one day.

Perhaps the best way to understand these grand purposes is to eavesdrop on eternity. In Revelation 19, a great multitude stands before the throne and exclaims, like the roar of rapids, “Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready.” Think about what they are not singing. They are not celebrating a job, a great marriage, a defeated depression, or children who turned out well. Two things capture the hearts of the assembled throng: Christ has won the final victory, and God has gathered a people whose passion is his glory and whose ultimate comfort is his rule.

People struggling with life in a fallen world often want explanations when what they really need is imagination — the ability to see what is real but unseen. They want strategies, techniques, and principles because they simply want things to be better. But God offers much more. People need to look at their families, neighbors, friends, cities, jobs, and churches and see the kingdom. This is what Paul fixed his gaze on, and it is the only vantage point that can sustain real hope in a world that keeps disappointing you.

As sinners, we have a natural bent to turn away from the Creator to serve the creation. We turn from hope in a Person to hope in systems, ideas, people, or possessions. Real Hope stares us in the face, but we do not see him. Instead, we dig into the mound of human ideas to extract a tiny shard of insight. We tell ourselves we have finally found the key. We act on it and embrace the delusion of lasting personal change. But before long, disappointment returns — the change was temporary and cosmetic, failing to penetrate the heart of the problem. So we go back to the mound, dig again, find another shard, seemingly more profound than before, and we always end up in the same place. The conclusion to draw from this cycle is simple: we must not offer people a system of redemption, a set of insights and principles. We offer people a Redeemer.

If you are going to help someone, you need to know what is wrong and how it can be fixed. You go to your mechanic because he can determine why your car is malfunctioning and get it running again. Any trustworthy perspective on personal change must do the same — correctly diagnose what is wrong with people and what is necessary for them to change. Scripture defines sin as a condition that results in behavior. We all are sinners, and because of this, we all do sinful things. Our core problem precedes our experience. David captures it in Psalm 51: “Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me.” Something is wrong with the inner self that fundamentally affects how we operate as human beings. Because sin is our nature, it is inescapable. It marks everything we think, say, and do. It guides our cravings, our response to authority, our decision making, our values, hopes, and dreams, and every interpretation we make.

Sin not only causes us to respond sinfully to suffering; it causes us to respond sinfully to blessing. The smart kid teases the dumb kid. The athlete makes fun of the kid with two left feet. Something is so wrong inside us that we cannot even handle blessing properly. This is why Paul writes so pointedly in Colossians 2:8: “See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the basic principles of this world and not on Christ.”

At the root of every sinful response is what the Bible calls rebellion — the inborn tendency to give in to the lies of autonomy, self-sufficiency, and self-focus. Autonomy says, “I have the right to do what I want when I want to do it.” Self-sufficiency says, “I have everything I need in myself, so I don’t need to depend on or submit to anyone.” Self-focus says, “I am the center of my world. It is right to live for myself and to do only what brings me happiness.” These are the lies of the Garden, the same lies Satan has whispered in generation after generation of willing ears. They deny our basic makeup as human beings, because we were not created to be autonomous. We were designed to be in daily submission to God and to live for his glory. Living outside this design will never work. And as he changes us, God allows us to be part of what he is doing in the lives of others. As you respond to the Redeemer’s work in your own life, you can learn to be an instrument in his hands.

Chapter 2 — In the Hands of the Redeemer

God’s plan has always been to accomplish extraordinary things through ordinary people, but most of us have never seen ourselves as instruments rather than mere conduits in his hands.

There is a crucial difference between seeing yourself as one of God’s conduits and seeing yourself as one of God’s instruments. A conduit is a passive channel connecting one thing to another. An instrument is a tool actively used to change something. God has called all of his people to be instruments of change in his redemptive hands. Embedded in the larger story of redemption is a principle we must not miss: God uses ordinary people to do extraordinary things in the lives of others.

Consider the people God used in Scripture. What mission board, what ministry, what local church would have chosen them? There was Moses — an exiled murderer — Gideon, fearful and hiding, David, the shepherd boy with no military training, Peter, who publicly denied Christ, and Paul, persecutor of the church, to name a few. Along with these are untold numbers of little people God used in big ways to fulfill his plan. God never intended us to simply be objects of his love. We are also called to be instruments of that love in the lives of others. Each of us has been gifted, called, and positioned to do our part in his kingdom work. Our histories, personalities, abilities, and maturity levels differ — and that is how the Redeemer intends it. He is sovereign over it all.

Many believers don’t think of their own involvement in ministry much beyond saying a prayer or making a meal. Yet adoption into the family of God was also a call to ministry, a call to be part of the good work of the kingdom. The overall biblical model is this: God transforms people’s lives as people bring his Word to others. Personal ministry is about people loving people — but in a way that includes bringing them God’s Word.

What often passes for ministering the Word is little more than a spiritual cut-and-paste system. Such ministry rarely leads to lasting change because it does not bring the power of the Word to the places where change is really needed. In this kind of ministry, self is still at the center, personal need is the focus, and personal happiness remains the goal. A truly effective ministry of the Word must confront our self-focus and self-absorption at its roots, opening us up to the vastness of a God-defined, God-centered world. Unless this happens, we will use the promises, principles, and commands of the Word to serve the thing we really love: ourselves. This may be why many people read and hear God’s Word regularly while their lives remain unchanged. Only when the rain of the Word penetrates the roots of the problem does lasting change occur.

If you try to use your Bible as God’s encyclopedia, you will either conclude that it has little to say about crucial issues of modern life, or you will bend, twist, and stretch passages to suit your purposes. Either way, you are not getting from the Word what God intended. This misunderstanding underlies the frustration many people feel with Scripture — we secretly wish God had just arranged it topically. But if you want God’s full perspective on a particular subject, you cannot limit yourself to the passages that specifically focus on it. The couple immersed in a battle for control will not break out of their cycle by studying only the standard passages on marriage. Without the perspective of the rest of the Bible, those marital passages offer little help and can be used for purposes that are more about what I want than what God has ordained. Scripture differs from an encyclopedia in a fundamental way. When you use an encyclopedia, you don’t need to read other articles to understand the one you are reading — there are no overarching themes. In the Bible, however, every passage is dependent on the whole, and the whole is held together by interdependent themes that run through every passage like rebar, the steel rods that reinforce concrete. Handle Scripture topically, and you miss the overarching themes at the heart of everything else God wants to say. These themes give you a sense of identity, purpose, and direction that fundamentally alter the way you think, desire, speak, and act. They go to the root of the problem, producing change that lasts.

Our deepest problem as human beings is not the individual sins we commit each day. Our deepest problem is that we seek to find our identity outside the story of redemption. If the entire goal and direction of our lives is wrong, we need much more than practical advice on how to do the right thing in a particular situation. We need a message big enough to overcome our natural instinct to live for our own glory, pursue our own happiness, and forget that our lives are much, much bigger than this little moment. Every day, in some way, we buy the lies of autonomy and self-sufficiency, worshiping the creation rather than its Creator. An encyclopedic, problem-solving approach to Scripture is totally inadequate for the true depth of this need. We cannot use the Bible as a divine self-help book. We need Christ. Only his person and work can free us from slavery to self. Lasting change begins when our identity, purpose, and sense of direction are defined by God’s story.

God is calling a people to himself, forming them into his likeness, and preparing them for eternity with him. This is his overarching plan of the ages. At any moment in time, the right answer to the question “What is God doing?” is “Accomplishing his plan.” Look around — don’t things often seem out of control? Doesn’t it often look like the bad guys are winning? Haven’t you cried “Why me?” or wept at the suffering of another? Don’t you sometimes feel lost in the crowd, the custodian of a small, relatively meaningless life? Don’t you daily face your powerlessness to even change yourself? In response to humanity’s deepest questions, God speaks sweetly of his sovereignty: “Take heart, I am in complete control. I am the definition of holiness and love. All of my ways are right and true, all of my decisions are best, and I will not rest until my plan has been completed.” Your world is not a world of constant chaos controlled by impersonal forces. Your destiny is not in your hands or in the hands of other people. You are held in the hands of your heavenly Father, who rules everything.

King David understood this in one of his darkest moments. His son Absalom had plotted to take his throne — imagine having to flee the palace for fear of your own son. At one point David was hiding in a cave, surrounded by a loyal band of soldiers who came and essentially asked, “What’s going to happen now?” According to Psalms 3 and 4, David responded with a perspective that should be true for all of us: “Lord, when I think about you, my heart is filled with joy — greater than when the harvest and new wine are bountiful. Yes, I am in this cave, but my life is not in the hands of Absalom. My life is where it has always been, in your sovereign hands. So I will not give in to fear. I will sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.” Every time you love your enemy, every time you speak softly in the face of someone else’s anger, every time you resist the temptation to win an argument at all costs — you are choosing to rest in the sovereignty of God. Because he rules, nothing you do in obedience to him is ever futile.

In all the drama of the story of redemption, one reality repeatedly bursts to the surface: we live in a world where there is grace to be found. God is not only sovereign — he is also abounding in grace. Immediately after Adam and Eve disobeyed him, God made it clear he would do more than punish them. He would send the seed of the woman — Christ — to defeat the Enemy and provide redemption for his people (Genesis 3:15). God’s response to the willful rebellion of his creatures was grace. Grace defines the story and gives it direction. It reminds you in a thousand ways that God has made a way to deal with your deepest problem: sin. Your life need not be imprisoned by your own rebellion, defeated by your own foolishness, or paralyzed by your own inability. God’s grace is most powerful and effective at the moment of your greatest weakness. All the marriage books, communication skills, and attempts at self-reformation will fail, because the only true hope is God’s heart-transforming, relationship-revolutionizing grace. Only in the economy of grace can the biblical principles for healthy relationships bear lasting fruit.

The center of the Bible’s grand story is the Lord — it is his story. Like a child at another child’s birthday party who can never enjoy the celebration if he demands to be at the center, we cannot enjoy our inclusion in God’s story while insisting on the lead role. Paul summarizes the story: “For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen” (Romans 11:36). At the bottom of a broken marriage, a shattered family, or a forsaken friendship you will always find stolen glory. We crave glory that does not belong to us and step on one another to get it. Rather than glorifying God by using what he has given us to love people, we use people to get the glory we love. Sin has made us glory robbers. We do not suffer well because suffering interferes with our glory. We do not find relationships easy because others compete with us for glory. We do not serve well because in our quest for glory we want to be served. There is only one stage, and it belongs to the Lord. This is the work of the kingdom of God: people in the hands of the Redeemer, daily functioning as his tools of lasting change.

Chapter 3 — Do We Really Need Help?

Even before the Fall, human beings were designed to be dependent — which means personal ministry is not a remedy for sin but a necessity of being human.

God has called us to be part of his kingdom work, but he has not given us a neat formula to follow — no seven steps to personal and relational perfection. Instead, he has told us to place our hope in the presence and work of Jesus the Redeemer. Both the helper and the person being helped depend entirely on his power and wisdom for change.

The account of Creation has a cadence to it, a beat. God creates light, declares that it is good, and there is evening and morning, the first day. God creates heaven and earth, land and water, declares that it is good, and the beat goes on — until he decides to create people. All of a sudden the rhythm is interrupted. God does something with Adam and Eve that he has not done with anything else he made. Immediately after creating them, God talks to them. He did not do this with the rest of creation — he simply rested and moved on. When the cadence breaks and God does something different, you should ask yourself why. Even though Adam and Eve were perfect people living in perfect relationship with him, they could not figure out life on their own. They were created to be dependent. God had to explain who they were and what they were to do with their lives. They did not need this help because they were sinners — they needed it because they were human. This is the first instance of personal ministry in human history: the Wonderful Counselor comes to human beings and defines their identity and purpose.

Personal ministry must begin with a humble recognition of the inescapable nature of our need. If there had been no Fall, if we had never sinned, we would still need help because we are human. A proper understanding of yourself and the work God has called you to starts here.

When we say that God designed human beings to be interpreters, we are getting to the heart of why human beings do what they do. Our thinking conditions our emotions, our sense of identity, our view of others, our agenda for solving problems, and our willingness to receive counsel. That is why we need a framework for generating valid interpretations that help us respond to life appropriately. Only the words of the Creator can give us that framework. And because we are worshipers by nature, we are always doing one of three things: giving proper worship to God, serving something else, or worshiping ourselves and demanding to be the center of our own universe. God’s words to Adam and Eve established this foundational reality from the beginning: “You were created to love, serve, worship, and obey me. These things should underlie everything you do.”

The moral drama of the Fall gets to the core of human existence. Genesis records that Eve saw the fruit as “desirable for gaining wisdom.” Satan was not simply selling Eve the best fruit in the garden — he was selling something far more fundamentally appealing. He was telling her that if she ate, she would be independently wise, possessed of autonomous personal wisdom without any need for God or his revelation. This was the attraction that led to the Fall. Who has ever fantasized about someone saying “no”? Fantasy is an attempt to be God. We may not profess to be atheists, but in practice we can live purely horizontal, godless lives. The things of this world capture and enslave us. We may go to church and possess a high level of biblical and theological knowledge, but these pursuits can exist on the fringes of our lives while something else sits on the throne of the heart.

A woman once approached during a seminar on this material and asked, “If I have the Bible in my hands and the Holy Spirit in my heart, why do I need to be counseled by others?” It is a fair question. The Holy Spirit is the Wonderful Counselor of the church. He enables us to understand God’s Word, convicts us of sin, works in us a willingness to obey, and enables us to do what God has called us to do. But this does not mean we no longer need one-on-one ministry — you could use the same logic to argue that you don’t need public worship. This woman was missing something significant, which is captured in a few short verses in Hebrews: “See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness” (Hebrews 3:12–13).

While sin remains, we must remember that sin is deceitful — and guess who it blinds first? You. You have no trouble seeing the sins of your family, but you can be astonished when your own are pointed out. Christ captures this truth with his word picture in Matthew 7: we can see a speck of dust in our neighbor’s eye, but we are oblivious to a huge piece of lumber sticking out of our own. Since each of us still has remaining sin, we will all have pockets of spiritual blindness. Our most important vision system is not our physical eyes — we can be physically blind and live quite well. But when we are spiritually blind, we cannot live as God intended. This is why so many Old Testament prophecies say that the Messiah would come to open blind eyes.

What this means in practice is threefold. First, we need the loving courage of honesty — we must love others more than we love ourselves, and with humble, patient love, help them see what they need to see. Second, we need the thankful humility of approachability — we must forsake defensiveness, be thankful that God has surrounded us with help, and be ready to receive it every day. Third, because the power of sin has been broken but its blinding presence remains, we need to live in humble, honest community where personal ministry is part of the daily culture.

Chapter 4 — The Heart Is the Target

Every behavior that puzzles or frustrates us traces back to a single cause — something other than God has captured the heart and now rules it.

When you say that you are getting to know someone, you are not saying that you have a deeper knowledge of his ears or nose. You are talking about the inner person — the heart. You know how the person thinks, what he wants, what makes him happy or sad. Because the Bible says your heart is the essential you, any ministry of change must target the heart.

Many of our attempts to change behavior ignore the heart behind the actions. We threaten, manipulate, instill guilt, raise our voices, and do a host of other things to force change — but change never lasts. The moment outside pressure wanes, behavior reverts to what it was before. The body always goes where the heart leads. Change that ignores the heart will seldom transform the life. For a while it may seem like the real thing, but it will prove temporary and cosmetic.

Christ’s teaching on trees and their fruit establishes three principles that guide every effort to serve as God’s instrument of change. First, there is an undeniable root-and-fruit connection between heart and behavior. People and situations do not determine our behavior — they provide the occasion where our behavior reveals our hearts. Second, lasting change always takes place through the pathway of the heart. Fruit change is the result of root change. As Christ says in Matthew 23, “Clean the inside of the cup and dish and the outside will become clean.” Any agenda for change must focus on the thoughts and desires of the heart. Third, the heart is therefore our target in personal growth and ministry. Our prayer is that God will work heart change in us and use us to produce heart change in others that results in new words, choices, and actions.

An idol of the heart is anything that rules us other than God. It is a life shaped by the satisfaction of cravings rather than by heartfelt commitment and faithfulness. Sin is much more than doing the wrong thing — it begins with loving, worshiping, and serving the wrong thing. Consider a controlling executive from New York City — the most controlling man imaginable. He had been married for thirty years and handled all the financial, parenting, and decorating decisions of the family. He was so obsessed with control that he would rearrange his wife’s clothes closet according to his prescribed plan — blouses, skirts, pants, and dresses, in graduated shades of color. Now imagine speaking with his wife, who complained that they never talk and that conflicts are always left unsolved, without knowing any of this. What would happen if you gave the husband good biblical instruction on communication and conflict resolution? The answer is that it would not lead to lasting change, because he would use his new understanding and skills to get what his heart worshiped. Counsel that does not address the idols of the heart only produces a more successful controller. As long as the desire for dominance ruled his heart, whatever principles he learned would serve that dominance.

Our idols are not the overt idols of Hindu polytheism — they are the covert idols of the heart. But either way, they are god-replacements. They command our daily devotion, shape our daily routine, and guide the way we interact with life, though they have no power whatsoever to deliver. There are times when we are just as deceived and blind as any overt idolater. God changes us not just by teaching us to do different things, but by recapturing our hearts to serve him alone. The deepest issues of the human struggle are not issues of pain and suffering but the issue of worship, because what rules our hearts will control the way we respond to both suffering and blessing.

We rarely say, “I am going to set my heart on this thing and let it completely control my life” — but that is exactly what happens. The person you met and mildly enjoyed becomes the person whose approval you cannot live without. The work you undertook to support your family becomes the source of identity and achievement you cannot give up. The house you built for the shelter and comfort of your family becomes a temple for the worship of possessions. A rightful attention to your own needs morphs into a self-absorbed existence. Every human being is a worshiper, in active pursuit of the thing that rules the heart. This worship shapes everything we do and say, who we are, and how we live. This is why the heart is always our target in personal ministry.

Chapter 5 — Understanding Your Heart Struggle

The wars between people on the outside are always a symptom of a war raging inside — between what we want and the God who refuses to be reduced to a divine waiter.

James writes: “You kill and covet, but you cannot have what you want. You quarrel and fight. You do not have, because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures.” James is saying we will never understand our anger, quarreling, and fighting by looking outward at the other person or the situation. Instead, he counsels us to do the exact opposite — to look within. The only way to understand your anger is to examine your own heart. According to Christ, angry words and actions are the heart overflowing (Luke 6:45). Our feelings of anger and the words and actions that follow reveal very important things about our hearts.

In that little phrase “desires that battle within you,” James gives us a window into how the heart operates. The heart of every person is a fount of competing desires. We rarely do anything with one simple motive — most of the time there is a battle within. Our horizontal desires — for people, possessions, recognition, control, acceptance, attention, vengeance — compete with the Lord for the rule of our hearts. Our desire to set up our own kingdom is in direct conflict with the King who has come to rule in our hearts. This is the war beneath all others. Who will rule that tense situation at work — your desire for a raise, or God’s glory? Will God rule that conversation with your child, or your desire for peace and quiet? Will God rule your relationship with your father, or your desire for vengeance for years of mistreatment? These skirmishes within the heart are battles in the most important war.

The focus of James’s discussion is not evil desires — desires for the wrong thing — but inordinate desires: desires that may be right in and of themselves but must never rule the heart. It is not wrong to desire relaxation at the end of a long day. It is wrong to be ruled by relaxation in such a way that you are irritated with anyone who gets in the way. It is not wrong to desire the tender attention of your husband. It is wrong to be so ruled by that desire that your days are filled with bitterness because of its absence and your nights are filled with manipulative attempts to get it.

If a certain set of desires rules your heart, you will not want God to be a wise, loving, sovereign Father who gives you what he knows is best. Instead, you will want a divine waiter who delivers what you have set your heart on. Imagine going to a restaurant and ordering a sixteen-ounce, medium-rare prime rib with a huge baked potato slathered in butter and sour cream. The waiter disappears into the kitchen, only to emerge twenty minutes later with a dry salad. “I took down your order,” he says, “but I began thinking about your age and health, and I decided that what you ordered was the worst thing you could possibly have. So I had the chef prepare this salad.” Would you thank the waiter and dive into your lettuce? Of course not, because the desire for steak is ruling your heart. When a certain set of desires rules our hearts, we reduce prayer to the menu of human desire. Worse, we shrink God from his position of all-wise, all-loving, all-powerful Father to a divine waiter we expect to deliver everything we ask. But God will not shrink to this size. He will only be our Father and King, who “satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s” (Psalm 103:5).

God will oppose proud and self-absorbed living — not because he is against you, but because he loves you. We should be encouraged by God’s jealousy. How would a wife react if her husband said, “Dear, of all the women I love, tonight I think I love you the most”? She would not be encouraged — she would be outraged. True love is always jealous. Praise God that he will settle for nothing short of the final victory in our hearts.

The biblical logic is clear: you cannot keep the Second Great Commandment unless you are first keeping the First. Only in bowing before God and submitting to his desires can we really turn to one another in peace and love. Any agenda for change that forgets this vertical causality will prove temporary and cosmetic.

Paul’s logic in Galatians 5 is simple: he reduces our living to two foundational lifestyles, shaped either by indulging the sinful nature or by self-sacrificing love. Loving your neighbor as yourself summarizes God’s will for us, because only those who love God first will love their neighbors as themselves. To indulge something is to feed it — to go where it takes you. The acts of the sinful nature produce a particular harvest: sexual immorality, impurity, hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, envy, drunkenness. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Galatians 5 calls us to hold two realities at once. The first is the everyday reality of the war for the heart — the war between God’s “within you” kingdom and the kingdom of creation. The second is the reality of our identity as children of God and the resources that are therefore ours in Christ.

Paul reduces these resources to two foundational themes. The first is the person and work of the indwelling Holy Spirit. Our condition is so desperate it was not enough for God to forgive us — he had to unzip us and get inside us, or we would not be able to do what he has called us to do. We no longer live under the control of the flesh but by the power of the Spirit, who daily battles the flesh on our behalf. The second theme is the reality of our union with Christ. On the cross, Christ did not purchase potential save-ability — he took our names to the cross. His death and resurrection is efficacious: it will accomplish his purposes in the lives of each of his children. Our union with him in his death and resurrection means we do not have to obey sinful desires any longer. We can say no and go in another direction. As we place our stories within this great story of the compassion and love of Christ, we will understand who we are and live as we were meant to live.

Chapter 6 — Following the Wonderful Counselor

Following the Wonderful Counselor means accepting a calling that demands we lay down the “my kingdom come” agenda and take up the message, methods, and character of the King.

Every aspect of your existence was meant to be filled with the glory of God. Everything you think, every decision you make, every word you speak was meant to be shaped by a humble acknowledgment of his claim on your life. You were created to live for his glory.

The job of an ambassador is to represent someone. Everything he does and says must intentionally represent a leader who is not physically present. His calling is not limited to forty hours a week or to certain state events — he is always the king’s representative. Paul says that God has called all of his people to function as his ambassadors. Our lives do not belong to us for our own fulfillment. The primary issue at every moment is, “How can I best represent the King in this place, with this particular person?” When an ambassador assumes his responsibilities, his life ceases to be his own. Everything he says and does has import because of the king he represents. Anything less is an affront to the King and a denial of the ambassadorial calling.

But this is where we get into trouble. We don’t really want to live as ambassadors — we would rather live as mini-kings. We know what we like and the people we want to be with. We know the kind of house we’d like to own and the car we want to drive. Without even recognizing it, we quickly fall into a “my desire, my will, my way” lifestyle, where the things we say and do are driven by the cravings of our own hearts. If we were honest, we would confess that the central prayer of our hearts is “my kingdom come.”

Living a representative lifestyle can be organized around three points of focus. As an ambassador, you will represent the message of the King — asking, “What does my Lord want to communicate to this person in this situation? What truths should shape my response? What goals should motivate me?” You will represent the methods of the King — asking, “How does the Lord bring change in me and in others? How did he respond to people here on earth? What responses are consistent with the goals and resources of the gospel?” And you will represent the character of the King — asking, “Why does the Lord do what he does? How can I faithfully represent the character that motivates his redemptive work? What motives in my own heart could hinder what the Lord wants to do in this situation?”

One of the things you will quickly discover is that when most people seek change, they seldom have the heart in view. They want change in their circumstances, change in the other person, or change in their emotions. They think that if things would just change, they would be better off. But when the focus is only on outward circumstances, solutions are seldom more than temporary and superficial. Whatever you do must have the goal of heart change and must follow the example of the Wonderful Counselor.

A model of personal ministry that takes both things seriously can be organized under four headings. Love highlights the importance of relationships in the process of change — what theologians call a covenantal model. God comes and makes a covenant with us, committing himself to be our God and taking us as his people. In the context of this relationship he accomplishes his work of making us like him. In the same way, we are called to build strong relationships with others, relationships that serve as workrooms in which his work of change can thrive. Know means really getting acquainted with the people God sends our way. Knowing a person means knowing the heart — her beliefs and goals, hopes and dreams, values and desires. If you know your friend, you can predict what she will think and how she will feel in a given situation. The goal is to get below the surface. Speak involves bringing God’s truth to bear on this person in this situation, asking, “What does God want this person to see that she doesn’t see? How can I help her see it?” Through stories and questions, Christ broke through spiritual blindness and helped people see who they were and the glory of what he could do for them. For lasting change, your friend must see herself in the mirror of God’s Word. Finally, Do means helping your friend apply insights to daily life and relationships. Insight alone is not change — it is only the beginning. God calls your friend not just to be a hearer of his Word but to be an active doer of it. As Christ’s ambassador, you are called to help her respond to this call.

Chapter 7 — Building Relationships by Entering Their World

Real ministry costs more than most people are willing to spend, because it requires entering another person’s world rather than lobbing truth from a safe distance.

We want ministry that doesn’t demand love that is, well, so demanding. We don’t want to serve others in a way that requires so much personal sacrifice. We would prefer to lob grenades of truth into people’s lives rather than lay down our lives for them. But this is exactly what Christ did for us — can we expect to be called to do anything less? Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13 that without love, even the tongues of men and of angels amount to nothing but a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal, that prophetic gifts and mountain-moving faith gain nothing without it, and that love is patient, kind, not self-seeking, not easily angered — it always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

God’s relationship to us is loving and redemptive, and he wants our relationships to mirror those qualities. This means at least three things: he has a higher goal for our relationships than our personal happiness; he wants our relationships to be the context for the change he works in and through us; and we need to build relationships that encourage this work of change. Sanctification — the process by which God actually makes us what he legally declared us to be in justification — happens in the context of community. Scripture highlights four things when it calls us to love someone in a way that promotes heart change: entering the person’s world, incarnating the love of Christ, identifying with suffering, and accepting with agenda.

An entry gate is not the objective problem a person has encountered but his or her particular experience of that problem — the fear, anger, guilt, anxiety, hopelessness, aloneness, envy, discouragement, or desire for vengeance gripping them in the moment. When you speak to people’s real struggles, they respond: this person has heard me, this person understands me, I want more of this kind of help. This is the power of a loving relationship. Following the Lord’s example, you should communicate several things to a struggling person: let them know you have heard their struggle and are restating it in their own words, so they understand that God has sent them someone who hears them; let them know your focus is on them as a person, not merely on the issues; and let them know that God is there and that he understands the struggle, by turning to Scripture passages that speak to the exact thing gripping them. In doing so, you help them see that God’s Word speaks to the deepest issues of human experience, and that God meets his people most powerfully in the very experiences where they fear he is absent.

One of the most common struggles in crisis is the feeling that you are all alone. It is deeply discouraging when people throw quick answers at you and walk away — it feels as if they have let go of your life and gone back to their own. This is why it is so important to incarnate God’s “I will be with you” promises from the outset. In doing so, you address a theological lie — the lie that God is absent in trouble — and you offer a living, loving presence that puts real flesh and blood on the presence of the Lord.

When you minister to people this way, their hearts respond in three ways that set the stage for more ministry and more change. First, horizontal trust. People in difficulty do not open up easily — they are afraid of further hurt. But when you connect with a person’s real experience in the midst of trial, you engender trust. The person thinks, he really heard me, he appears to be someone I can trust. This willingness is crucial, because you are asking the person to place the fine china of her life in your hands, to talk about the most important and sensitive issues of her life. She will only do this when she trusts you. Second, vertical hope. God not only surprises struggling people with his grace — he calls them to do things that are difficult and unexpected, things that contradict their normal instincts. If a person under trial looks at the Lord and sees anything but hope, he will not follow. In those early moments you are helping the person to see the Lord, recognize that he understands the secret struggles, and see that he is present and offers help that really helps — moving the person toward God rather than away from him. Third, willingness to continue. The main goal in a first conversation is simply to help the person be willing to talk again. The first talk may be nothing but venting, but the second signifies some kind of commitment to God’s process of change.

Think of people God has used in your life. Perhaps their willingness to forgive you taught you more about the nature of forgiveness than any conversation. Perhaps you learned about the resources of Christ by watching them endure great difficulty. Maybe you grasped the power of biblical love by watching them love someone who was quite unlovable. Perhaps they stood as evidence that God’s promises were true, or their willingness to stand with you for the long haul gave you strength to continue. Notice that their ministry was made up of more than words. As Christ’s ambassadors, it is not just what we say that God uses to encourage change in people — it is also who we are and what we do. We are not only called to speak the truth; we are called to be living, flesh-and-blood illustrations of it. We are not simply God’s spokespersons; we are his evidence. Our lives testify to the power of his grace to transform hearts.

Paul uses the metaphor of clothing — the thing that covers us, identifies us, and describes our function — to remind us that what we wear to moments of ministry is as important as what we say. The character traits he lists are a summary of the character of Christ. The instruction is simple: come dressed for the job. In personal ministry, the sin of the person you are helping will eventually be revealed in your relationship. If you are ministering to an angry person, at some point that anger will be directed at you. If you are helping someone who struggles with trust, she will distrust you. A manipulative person will seek to manipulate you. A depressed person will tell you he tried everything you suggested and it did not work. You cannot stand next to a puddle without eventually being splashed by its mud.

The comforting reality is that God is working on both of you. Be aware of your reactions to the people you serve. One of the most loving things you can do is to be committed to humble self-examination: how do you respond when sinned against? As the person’s sins become part of your experience, are you demonstrating the power of Christ’s grace? Are you incarnating Christ as you deal with their sin? The goals you lay out for people can seem unrealistic — they will have trouble imagining how they could ever do these things in their present circumstances. Personal ministry provides a sweet opportunity to speak to this doubt and fear not only in words but with your life as well. The most important encounter in ministry is not the person’s encounter with you, but their encounter with Christ. Your job is simply to set up that encounter. Are you willing to be splashed by the mud because you find joy in serving Christ, even when you realize you have gotten dirty?

Chapter 8 — Building Relationships by Identifying with Suffering

The capacity to comfort someone in suffering grows directly out of the willingness to share an identity with sufferers — including the one Suffering Savior who made himself like us.

The Bible clearly declares that God is sovereign over all things — even suffering. Many of us mistakenly think that God has nothing to do with the bad things that happen in our world. Yet Scripture roots our hope in a different reality: God is not the author of our suffering, but he is with us in our suffering (Exodus 4:11; 1 Samuel 2:2–7; Daniel 4:34–35; Proverbs 16:9; Ephesians 1:11). The Bible also clearly says that God is good. It is faulty thinking to say that a truly good God would never allow a person to suffer, or that if God really loved you, he wouldn’t let a certain thing happen. An infinitely good God is present in the middle of our most painful experiences (Psalm 34:8–10; 100:5; 145:4–9). And the Bible clearly says that God has a purpose for our suffering — it is not a hindrance to our redemption but a tool he uses to work his redemptive purpose in us (Romans 8:17; 2 Corinthians 1:3–6; James 1:2–8; 1 Peter).

Scripture explains the ultimate reasons why we suffer. We suffer because we live in a fallen world plagued by disease, natural disasters, dangerous animals, and broken machinery. We suffer because of our flesh — much of our suffering is at our own hands, the result of choices that make our lives painful. We suffer because others sin against us, from subtle prejudice to personal attacks. We suffer because of the Devil, who is a real enemy, a trickster and liar who divides, destroys, and devours, tempting us with things that promise life but destroy it. And we suffer because of God’s good purpose — he calls his children to suffer for his glory and for their redemptive good. God’s sovereignty over suffering never means the suffering is not real (2 Corinthians 1:3–9; 4:1–16), and it never excuses the evildoer (Acts 2:22–24).

You are a sufferer who has been called by God to minister to others in pain. Suffering is not only the common ground of human relationships but one of God’s most useful workrooms. As his ambassadors, we need to learn how to identify with those who suffer, and we do this by learning from the example of the Wonderful Counselor in passages such as Hebrews 2:10–12. That passage tells us that we are in the same family as Christ — and this family is more than the family of man. The author of Hebrews is pointing to a very specific shared identity: we are with Christ in the family of those who suffer. We must not forget that we serve a Suffering Savior. We do not seek help from someone who cannot understand our experience. Jesus is compassionate and understanding — he can help us because he is like us.

This means our service must not have an “I stand above you as one who has arrived” character. It flows out of a humble recognition that we share an identity with those we serve. God has not completed his work in us either. We are brothers and sisters in the middle of his lifelong process of change. No one is anyone’s guru. Change will not happen simply because someone is exposed to another’s wisdom and experience. First, this posture recognizes that God sends people our way not only so that they will change, but so that we will too. The Wonderful Counselor is working on everyone in the room.

Hebrews 2:10 says something important about Christ — that like us, he was made perfect through suffering. How? He had lived in eternity as the perfect Son of God, yet something was needed before he could go to the cross as the perfect Lamb for sacrifice. He had to live on earth as the Second Adam, enduring the full range of experiences, tests, and temptations that make up life in the fallen world — and he had to do it without sinning. The first Adam had failed the test; Christ had to face sin and suffering throughout his whole life and prove himself to be the perfect Son of Man. The author of Hebrews suggests a direct analogy: just as Christ was declared perfect in eternity, we are declared perfect in Christ through justification; and just as Christ’s suffering demonstrated his righteousness on earth, we become holy through the process of suffering — sanctification. We are being made perfect through the same process Christ went through.

Your story is a small chapter in the grand story of redemption, and Christ is on center stage. Your story is much more about him than it is about you. In your own weakness, foolishness, and inability, you have learned the truthfulness of his promises and the reality of his presence. This makes your life a window to the glory of Christ. Real comfort is more than thinking the right things in times of trouble. It involves having your identity rooted in something deeper than relationships, possessions, achievements, wealth, health, or your ability to figure it all out. Real comfort is found when you understand that you are held in the hollow of the hand of the One who created and rules all things. The Bible tells us that everything around us is in the process of being taken away. God and his love are all that remain as cultures and kingdoms rise and fall. Comfort is found by sinking roots into the unseen reality of God’s ever-faithful love.

If we are members of his family and partakers of his divine nature, increasingly conformed to his image, we should be marked by compassion. We should be more than theological answer machines. We should weep with those who weep and mourn with those who mourn, and so incarnate the One who is compassion. True hope is not rooted in achievements or assets but in the knowledge that you are the child of the King. He loves you with a love that nothing can take away. He has given you his forgiving and empowering grace. He is daily changing and maturing you. He has promised to give you whatever you need to face what comes your way and that you will live with him forever in a place without suffering, sorrow, or sin. This means that in the most difficult moments of your life, nothing truly permanent or valuable is at stake. What you really live for is safe and secure.

When you tell your story, begin with the question: “How can I tell this in a way that gives hope, rooted in the reality of Christ’s presence and love?” Be honest in describing your struggles and failures — your story must highlight God’s grace in your weakness, not your heroic faith. Be willing to expose your sin so that the redemptive glory of the Lord would live in the ears of the listener. Tell your story with humility, admitting your continuing need for grace. There is a way of telling our stories that communicates spiritual arrival rather than continuing need, and that character undermines everything. Suffering gives people who have been jolted out of their comfortable lifestyle a reason to stop, look, and listen. It can help them move out of the confines of a self-absorbed world into the grandeur of a world where God is central, where hope is rooted in things that cannot be seen.

Chapter 9 — Getting to Know People

Most relationships stay shallow not because people are dishonest but because neither party ever asks the kind of question that pulls the real story to the surface.

Think about it. Most of the conversations you had today were mundane and rather self-protective. We spend most of our time talking about things of little personal consequence — the weather, politics, sports, and entertainment. There is nothing wrong with this except that it allows us to hide who we really are. A person may be terribly distraught about her marriage, yet when someone asks how she is, she will quickly answer, “Fine, how are you?” The person asking doesn’t really want to know, and the person answering doesn’t really want to tell. They are co-conspirators in a casual relationship.

There are many reasons why our relationships are trapped in the casual. One is that in our busyness we despair of squeezing ten-dollar conversations into ten-cent moments. There are times when we would like to tell our story, but there doesn’t seem to be an opportunity. We all deal with the disconnect between our public reputation and our private struggles, wondering what people would think if they really knew us. We also buy the lie that we are unique, that we struggle in ways no one else does, tricked by people’s public personas and forgetting that behind closed doors they live real lives just like us.

Another reason we rarely talk beyond the casual level is because we do not see. Sin is deceitful, causing us to see others with greater clarity than we see ourselves. Because we tend to believe our own arguments and buy into our own excuses, we are often unaware of how great our need for help really is. We can’t bare what we don’t see. This not only distorts our perspective on ourselves but shapes the way we tell our story to others — it may even lead us to question whether we need to tell our story at all. You cannot minister well to someone you do not know. You must be committed to entering their world, beginning with taking the time to ask good questions and listen well. Entering a person’s world enables you to apply the truths of the gospel in a way that is situation- and person-specific.

When you assume, you do not ask. If you do not ask, you open yourself to a world of invalid conclusions and misunderstandings. Always ask people to define their terms. Human language is messy — the more a word is used, the more nuances of meaning it takes on. When a woman says she and her husband had a huge fight last night, do not assume you understand what she means. If you do not ask her to define “huge fight,” you have simply reached into your own experience to fill in the definition, creating a subtle area of misunderstanding that could affect everything you say to her afterward. Then ask people to play you the video. The terms people use are verbal shorthand for significant situations. Ask the woman to walk you through, step by step, what happened during the fight. Listening to her account will make your understanding concrete and personalized and give you a sense of the drama and emotions of the moment. Finally, ask people to explain why they responded as they did. Now you have a definition and a concrete situation — you can begin to get at the heart behind the behavior. Ask the person to share her reasons, values, purposes, and desires. You are asking her to step back and evaluate what was behind the words she said, the choices she made, and the things she did. You are taking the camera off the scene and putting it on the person.

When you ask people questions they would never ask themselves, you are teaching them to view themselves through biblical lenses — doing something God can use to change them in fundamental ways. Perhaps your questions will help them see themselves more accurately. Be cautious with closed questions leading to yes or no answers — they can lead to misunderstandings because they force you to fall back on your own assumptions about why the person answered as she did. Because of this, we all need people who love us enough to ask, listen, and having listened, to ask more.

Chapter 10 — Discovering Where Change Is Needed

To help someone change, you must first organize what you are seeing into the categories Scripture provides — because biblical categories reveal where the real change needs to happen.

Why would God put the world’s most significant, demanding, and difficult human relationship — marriage — smack in the middle of the world’s most important process — sanctification? If his goal were for people to realize their individual dreams, it would have made sense to get them fully sanctified before facing the trials of marriage. But God hasn’t made a mistake. He is working on a greater dream, so he tries and troubles us. He lets our dreams slip through our fingers so that as we learn to love each other, we grow more deeply in love with him.

Because the Bible tells us that people live out of their hearts, we are always interested in how the heart’s thoughts and cravings are revealed by the choices people make and the things they say and do. The first step in making sense of the information you have gathered is to organize it into simple biblical categories. This step is like sorting laundry or assembling a puzzle. When you have finished the task, you can step back and ask, “Where does the Bible say that change needs to take place in this person, in this situation?” That question keeps the ministry biblical rather than driven by your personal reactions or crisis-shaped assumptions.

You cannot fully understand what people are thinking unless you know what they feel as well. Our feelings express our reactions to our interpretations — and we turn around and interpret our feelings as well. Thoughts and feelings move in an interconnected loop, each shaping the other, and a clear picture of a person’s heart requires attention to both.

Chapter 11 — The Goals of Speaking the Truth in Love

Speaking the truth in love is more than an act of kindness — it is a rescue operation on behalf of someone who cannot see what God sees when he looks at them.

Leviticus 19:15–18 discusses God’s intentions for this aspect of relationships: “Do not pervert justice; do not show partiality to the poor or favoritism to the great, but judge your neighbor fairly. Do not go about spreading slander among your people. Do not hate your brother in your heart. Rebuke your neighbor frankly so you will not share in his guilt. Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against one of your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD.”

The foundation of the Second Great Commandment is the First — you cannot love your neighbor as yourself if you do not first love God above all else. True love is not offensively intrusive or rude. But the Bible repudiates covering sin with a façade of silence. It teaches that those who love will speak, even if it creates tense, upsetting moments. If we love people and want God’s best for them, how can we stand by as they wander away? How can we let them deceive themselves with excuses, blame, and rationalizations? Everything we are and have belongs to God, and we will find our greatest joy in relationships when we recognize that they, too, belong to him. We are the Lord’s. They are the Lord’s. The situation is the Lord’s. Loving confrontation is rooted in an awareness that we are God’s children and our goal is to be active in his purposes. To do less is to forget who we are. Too often we forget that there is nothing more wonderful than to be Christ’s ambassadors — we participate in the most important work of the universe.

The job is to hold the mirror of the Word of God in front of someone so they can see themselves accurately. None of us thinks in a purely biblical way. We hold distorted, self-aggrandizing, or self-excusing perspectives on God, others, and ourselves. We fail to properly understand our past and present, and all this shapes our behavior. We also do not do our best thinking in the middle of suffering and distress — we forget what we have learned about God and ourselves when our emotions are raging. It is a sweet grace to have someone come alongside us and help us remember what we need to remember. Our view of life tends to be shaped by our experiences, and because we are the ones interpreting those experiences, our conclusions get reinforced by each new situation. We interpret each new circumstance in a way that convinces us we are right, oblivious to the impact of spiritual blindness, sinful desires, and wrong thinking. We need the intervention of truth from someone who really loves us.

A loving rebuke can accomplish this only if it pursues two goals. The first is to be an instrument of seeing — not advancing your own opinion, but helping people see themselves in the mirror of God’s Word, helping them see what God sees. The second goal is to be an agent of repentance. The biblical definition of repentance is a change of heart that leads to a change in the direction of life. Joel 2:12–13 pictures this as rending the heart, not merely the garments — heartfelt remorse for sin accompanied by a desire to change. The goal is never to pressure people into behavioral changes but to encourage heart change that impacts the life.

Through the things you say, the way you say them, and the attitudes you express, pray that God will change the heart of the person you are serving. Paul says in Romans 2:4 that it is God’s kindness that leads us to repentance. He also says in 2 Corinthians 5:14 that it is the love of Christ that compels us to no longer live for ourselves but for him. The grace of the gospel is what turns our hearts, because the gospel is God’s magnificent promise of forgiveness in Christ — and this draws us out of hiding into the light of truth, where true confession and repentance can take place.

When Paul instructs members of the body to minister to one another, he says, “Speak the truth in love.” Content and method are equally important. Truth that is not spoken in love ceases to be truth because it is twisted by other human agendas. Love that is not guided by truth ceases to be love because it is divorced from God’s agenda. If we want our words to be instruments of change, we need a sense of direction. Four steps provide a road map: consideration — what does God want the person to see? — confession — what does God want the person to admit? — commitment — to what new ways of living is God calling this person? — and change — how should these new commitments be applied to daily living?

Chapter 12 — The Process of Speaking the Truth in Love

Helping someone see their own heart requires the same patient, indirect skill Nathan used when he told David a story about a stolen lamb rather than reading a list of charges.

The goal is to encourage people to look at their behavior and examine their hearts with biblical eyes. Five questions can help people see what God wants them to see. The order matters, because it teaches biblical thinking about why we do what we do and how God changes us.

The first question is: what was going on? This focuses on the situations and circumstances the person is facing. You want them to see two things: that circumstances did not force them to do what they did, and you want to understand the details of their world in order to speak truth into it. Do not assume — if you fill in the gaps from your own experience rather than theirs, you are already off course. The second question is: what were you thinking and feeling as it was going on? This takes their eyes off the situation and asks them to examine their hearts. Our hearts always interact with what goes on around us. We are never just victims but incessant interpreters whose interpretations precede and shape our actions. The third question is: what did you do in response? This question comes after the second because our behavior is shaped by our heart’s response to the situation. Combining the information from the first two questions, you help people see the connection between their interpretation and their response — and see that their behavior was not forced by the situation or by others. Lasting change depends on this connection. Without it, people revert to blame-shifting. If people do not see things at this level, they may decide to do some things differently, but in their hearts they will still be convinced that most change needs to take place outside them.

The fourth question is: why did you do it — what were you seeking to accomplish? If the second question uncovers thoughts, this one reveals motives. In asking it, you are teaching that the heart is always serving something. Christ uses the metaphor of treasure in Matthew 6 to express this worship orientation: human life is one big treasure hunt. We all have things that are valuable to us — acceptance, possessions, achievement, God’s glory, love, independence, health — and in some way we all seek to get those things from our situations and relationships. Our behavior always expresses these motives, or idols, of the heart. The Wonderful Counselor is not satisfied with the outside of the dish being polished when the inside is left unchanged (Matthew 23:25). The most basic question in all personal ministry is: for whose glory are you living? The fifth question is: what was the result? This uncovers consequences and helps people see how their harvest connects directly to the thoughts and motives of their hearts (Galatians 6:7). We are all skilled at denying our own harvest — “If you had these kids, you’d yell too!” “He just pushed my buttons!” — and people need help examining the fruit in their lives and tracing it to its root.

It can be very helpful to have people respond to these five questions in journal form. Ask them to identify two or three situations or relationships that are a regular source of struggle, then journal about those struggles using the five questions for two or three weeks. Take the journal, read it, and highlight themes and patterns. When you meet next, return the journal and ask them to read it in your presence and respond. Again and again, God has used this simple method to open people’s eyes to what is going on in their hearts.

Never assume that people are confessing to the Lord, and do not allow your words of confrontation to do their confession for them. Call people to confession that is not weakened by “buts” and “if onlys.” Confession reminds people that their hearts and lives belong to the Lord, and that misplaced worship lies beneath every sin of behavior. True confession flows out of worship and results in a deeper, fuller worship of God.

In 2 Samuel 12, Nathan was called to confront King David with his murder and adultery. He did not burst into the throne room with flashing eyes, pointed finger, and a list of charges. Instead, he stood before David and told him a story — an extended metaphor crafted to open the eyes of David’s heart. A rich man with vast flocks had taken the single beloved ewe lamb of a poor man to feed a traveler, rather than taking from his own abundance. David burned with anger and declared the man deserved to die. Then Nathan said, “You are the man!” In Nathan’s interactive style of confrontation, the focus is on the story with the goal of stimulating David to see what he had not seen. The story is short on details yet very specific in application — it is not the goal but the means. It must be pointed enough to cut through layers of blindness and expose the heart.

The principle is to start with interaction. This means two-way communication — the person being confronted must be invited to talk, because this is the only way to know whether they have understood what you are pointing out, owned what needs to be confessed, and committed to new ways of living. It also means using metaphor: a familiar thing used to communicate a less familiar idea. God employs an extensive list of metaphors to help us see and know him — rock, fortress, sun, shield, door, light. In confrontation, we want to find things in a person’s life that illustrate truths or reveal sins they need to see. Ask yourself: what do I know about this person’s background, job, interests, and experiences that can provide metaphors for me to use?

Chapter 13 — Establishing Agenda and Clarifying Responsibility

Knowing what needs to change is only the beginning — the harder work is helping someone actually do it, which requires a then perspective that reshapes every now response.

The difficulties now, the suffering now, the disappointments now, and the blessings now are all preparation for the wedding then. Your now response will be shaped by a then perspective. For many people, it is much easier to know what is wrong than how to change it. You may have confessed a selfish, idolatrous heart and seen its fruit in your relationship with your spouse — but it will be harder to think clearly and creatively about how to repent and actually love them in specific ways. You may understand the major themes of Scripture but not know how to use them in certain situations and relationships. We all need people to stand alongside us as we apply God’s Word to our lives.

Two key questions provide direction. The first is: what does the Bible say about the information that has been gathered? This is not simply asking, “Where can I find a verse on this?” You want to examine things through the lens of the great themes of Scripture — to understand how a distinctively biblical worldview shapes the response to the issues in this person’s life. Ask: “What has God taught, promised, commanded, warned, encouraged, and done that addresses this situation?” This protects ministry from personal bias, unbiblical thinking, and a crisis-driven impulsivity that can lead into trouble. The second question is: what are God’s goals for change for this person in this situation? This applies God’s call to “put off” and “put on” (Ephesians 4:22–24) to the specifics of a person’s thoughts, motives, and behavior. Answering these questions marks out the destination.

At this point, recognize that your agenda will not always be the same as the Lord’s. You may not want what God wants for the child abuser you are helping. You may not want what God wants for an incredibly self-absorbed person who is bitter at the world. You may be a Jonah who resents God’s mercy to the modern Ninevites he calls you to serve. Asking this question keeps you from confusing God’s agenda with your own. You cannot lead a person if you don’t know where you are going, and you must only lead people where God is calling them. The Christian life can really be boiled down to two words: trust and obey. You must always entrust the things that are out of your control to God, and you must always be faithful to obey his clear and specific commands.

Chapter 14 — Instilling Identity with Christ and Providing Accountability

Change collapses without identity, and identity collapses without daily reminders of whose you are — which is why accountability is not surveillance but the ministry of remembering.

All of this matters in times of change because we always live out of some kind of identity, and the identities we assign ourselves powerfully influence our responses to life. As people pursue the process of lifelong change, they need to live out of a gospel identity.

There is a radical difference between saying “I am a depressed person” and saying “I am a child of God in Christ and I tend to struggle with depression.” The second statement does not pretend the war is not raging, but it is infused with hope. It is never a waste of time to remind people of who they are in Christ. Doing so stimulates hope, courage, and faith. When we see Christians who do not exhibit Christian character or produce good fruit, Peter’s answer is clear: these people have forgotten who they are. They have lost sight of their identity in Christ and do not realize the resources that are theirs in him. Because of this, they fail to live with hope, faith, and courage. Their problems worsen and new layers of difficulty are added. Their sense of who they are becomes shaped by their problems rather than by the gospel.

God calls us to stand with people as they step out in faith, obedience, and courage. This is the ministry of accountability — and it is not about lying in wait to catch people doing wrong. The purpose of accountability is to assist people to do what is right for the long run. It provides a presence that keeps them responsible, aware, determined, and alert until they are able to be on their own. It directs eyes that have just begun to see, and strengthens weak knees and feeble arms. It encourages flagging faith and keeps God’s goals before people’s eyes. Biblical accountability is not fearful, abusive, or intrusive. It is loving, sacrificial, ambassadorial, incarnational, and holy.

Eight truths summarize what this kind of personal ministry rests on. First, we need God and his truth to live as we were meant to live (Genesis 1:26; 2 Timothy 3:16–17). Second, each of us has been called by God to be his instrument of change in the lives of others, beginning with our families and the church (Ephesians 4:11–16; Colossians 3:15–17). Third, our behavior is rooted in the thoughts and motives of our hearts — people and situations only prompt our hearts to express themselves in words and actions (Proverbs 4:23; Luke 6:43–45; James 4:1–10). Fourth, Christ has called us to be his ambassadors, following his message, methods, and character (2 Corinthians 5:14–21). Fifth, being an instrument of change involves incarnating the love of Christ by sharing in people’s struggles, identifying with their suffering, and extending God’s grace as we call them to change. Sixth, it means seeking to know people by guarding against false assumptions, asking good questions, and interpreting information in a distinctly biblical way (Proverbs 20:5; Hebrews 4:14–16). Seventh, it means speaking the truth in love — with the gospel as our comfort and call, helping people see themselves in God’s Word and leading them to repentance, being instruments of seeing and agents of repentance (Romans 8:1–17; Galatians 6:1–2). Eighth, it means helping people do what God calls them to do by clarifying responsibility, offering loving accountability, and reminding them of their identity in Christ (Philippians 2:1–14; 2 Peter 1:3–9; Galatians 6:2).

We encourage change by helping people live out of an accurate sense of their identity as the children of God, with all the rights and privileges that identity entails. And when you step back and look at it, biblical personal ministry is almost embarrassingly simple — it is not a secret technology for the intervention elite but a simple call to every one of God’s children to be part of what God is doing in the lives of others. It is living in humble, honest, redemptive community. It is loving as Christ has loved, and going beyond the casual to really know people. It is loving others enough to speak truth into their lives, helping them see themselves in the mirror of God’s Word. And it is standing with others, helping them do what God has called them to do. It is basically a call to biblical friendship. Love people. Know them. Speak truth into their lives. Help them do what God has called them to do.