Introduction

Friend, storms don’t make appointments. They don’t text ahead, and they don’t knock politely. They gather on the horizon and muscle their way into our Mondays. A pink slip on a Friday. A diagnosis on a Tuesday. A call at midnight that drops you to your knees. And there you stand in the downpour, wondering, Will my house hold? Will my heart hold?

Jesus knows the sound of wind that howls and rain that hammers. He knows the way a soul trembles when the floorboards creak and the shutters clatter. He paints a picture we can all understand: a house, a storm, and a foundation that makes all the difference. His words are gentle and firm, tender and true. They find us in kitchens and hospitals, nurseries and nursing homes, boardrooms and backyards. And they whisper courage: Build wisely. Build on what lasts. Build on Me.

Our world offers a thousand quick fixes for a shaky life. Yet we know how thin those props can be. Success is slippery. Savings can shrink. Popularity is paper-thin. When the gale arrives, we want something that doesn’t give. A rock that won’t roll. A base that won’t buckle. A Savior who won’t slip away when the skies go black.

Adrian Rogers put it like this: "The faith that fizzles before the finish was faulty from the first." When the rain begins and the river rises, we don’t need a slogan—we need a Savior. We don’t need a pep talk—we need a Person who holds us. Jesus is more than a Sunday song or a passing thought. He is the solid ground under every step, the anchor under every wave, the King whose words carry weight in the wind.

Have you felt the pull of temptation? The pressure of expectations? The push of fear? Storms don’t just show up outside; they show up inside—anxious thoughts, aching doubts, an old habit knocking on a new door. Jesus knows. And Jesus speaks. He assures us that hearing His words and doing them is the way a house stands tall when the tempest pounds the porch. Obedience isn’t dry duty; it’s shelter. It’s safety for the soul. It’s the wise man standing at the window, listening to thunder, with peace in his chest because the base of his life is bedrock strong.

So today, let your heart settle. Let your shoulders drop. You are not alone in the storm. The Carpenter from Nazareth builds houses that hold. He sets piers that go deep. He picks up His people and places them on a foundation that stays. He teaches us how to face pressure without folding, how to push back against temptation without surrender. He shows us that storms do not define us; they reveal what we’re standing on. And by grace, we can stand on Him.

Let’s listen with both ears. Let’s lean in like a child at story time. The Teacher is speaking. The words are simple. The wisdom is strong. And the promise is sure.

Matthew 7:24–27 (KJV): 24 Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: 25 And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock. 26 And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand: 27 And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it.

Opening Prayer: Father, we come to You with wet shoes and weary hearts, some of us stepping through puddles we didn’t see coming. Speak to us through Your Word. Set our feet on the rock who is Jesus. Give us ears that hear and wills that obey. Strengthen every family facing a hard week, steady every single heart that feels alone, comfort every soul tasting grief. Holy Spirit, form in us a resilient trust and a ready obedience. Teach our hands to hold fast when winds rise, and teach our lips to confess Your faithfulness in the rain. Build in us what the storm cannot break. In the strong name of Jesus, Amen.

Build on the rock that withstands every storm

Jesus ends His message with a picture everyone can see. A house. A lot. Weather overhead. He speaks of a person who listens to His words and then acts on them. That person is doing more than nodding along. That person is building.

Hearing is the first step. Doing is the second step. Both matter. Listening lays out the plans on the table. Obedience picks up the tools.

Each command becomes a board you set in place. Forgive, and you set a beam. Tell the truth, and you drive a nail straight. Keep your word, and you pour concrete that binds. Pray, give, and serve in quiet ways, and you fix the frame to the footings.

This is not about earning favor. This is about strength. The sayings of Jesus are not thin lines on paper. They carry weight. When you practice them, you tie the whole house to something firm.

Think about His words in this sermon. Bless those who wrong you. Make peace. Guard your eyes and your anger. Let your “yes” be “yes.” Seek the Father in secret. Trust Him for daily bread. Build with those steps. Lay them again and again. A life rises that can carry heavy loads.

The rock in His story is not a feeling. It is not a trend. It is Him. It is what He says and who He is.

He speaks with authority. The crowds heard it. We hear it now. His commands are wise. His promises hold. When He says, “Come to Me,” that invitation is strong enough to bear weight.

To build on Him is to give His words the final say. When choices stack up, His voice leads. When fears pile up, His promises calm the heart. When plans pile up, His will sets the line.

Think of your life as a set of rooms. Work. Home. Thought life. Words. Money. Pain. Joy. In each room, set long screws down into His teaching. Let His mercy shape how you treat people. Let His purity guide what you look at. Let His care for the poor guide your spending. Let His cross define your worth.

This kind of building happens over time. It happens on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It happens early in the morning and late at night.

Small choices pour the slab. Daily prayer keeps the surface true. Scripture reading keeps the edges square. Repentance sweeps away the dust so the sealant can set.

Habits are like rebar under the surface. You do not always see them. They keep the concrete from cracking wide. Sabbath rest. Honest confession. Gathered worship. Wise counsel. Serving without applause. These patterns tie things together.

Community adds brackets and bolts. Friends in Christ ask real questions. They show up when you are tired. They remind you what Jesus said when your mind is loud. They help you lift beams you cannot lift alone.

Over years, the house gains weight. Walls align. Doors close clean. You notice more peace in your chest. Not ease. Peace. Because the frame connects to solid ground.

Weather comes in many forms. It can be loss. It can be pressure. It can be a choice you did not expect to face. When it hits, the test is simple. Is your life fastened to what Jesus said?

Pressure looks for seams. It pushes on corners that were left loose. It rattles windows that were never caulked. If hearing never became doing, gaps show.

This is why inspection matters. Open the crawl space and look. Ask where you delay when He speaks. Ask where you make excuses. Ask where you obey with a half step instead of a full step.

Then act. Mend what is loose. Replace rotten wood with honest obedience. Go back to the words of Jesus and set anchors into them. Reconcile with that person. Tell the truth in that report. Cut off the path that leads you to sin. Give generously where you have held back.

Storms do not get the last say. They only reveal what is already there. When the base holds, the whole house holds. When the base is His words put into practice, there is real safety.

So keep building. Keep fastening. Keep checking the bolts. Keep letting the Lord teach your hands what to do next. His words do not shift. His ways make a life that lasts.

Obey Jesus to resist the pull of temptation

When the wind rises, temptation often rises with it ... View this full PRO sermon free with PRO