True faith is shown by obeying Jesus’ words, building our lives on His foundation so we stand firm through life’s storms.
Friends, some of us walked in today with a smile on our face and a storm in our chest. The winds may not be rattling your windows, but they might be rattling your peace. A report you didn’t expect. A bill you can’t pay. A relationship you’re not sure will hold. Have you ever felt the floorboards of life tremble and wondered, Is anything truly steady?
Jesus understands that kind of ache. He meets us not with a lecture, but with a picture we can hold in our hands. He speaks of a house, a foundation, a flood. He talks about building in a way that lasts when the clouds gather and the river runs wild. He is gracious, but He is not vague. He tells us that calling Him “Lord” with our lips without following Him with our lives leaves us exposed when the storm sirens sound.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer said it straight and simple: “Only he who believes is obedient, and only he who is obedient believes.” —Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship. That’s not a scolding; it’s an invitation. It is the gentle hand of the Savior beckoning us to a life that works on Monday morning, a life that holds when the waves hit on Wednesday night.
Picture a wise builder with muddy boots and steady hands. The sky is blue today, but he’s not fooled by fair weather. He digs through the easy soil until he reaches what does not shift. He works where nobody claps, in the quiet, beneath the surface, because he knows tomorrow’s wind is already on the way. That’s not fear; it’s faith with a blueprint—trust that takes Jesus at His word and works the truth into every nail and board of daily living.
I think of kitchen tables with coffee rings and tear stains—places where real faith is forged. Prayers whispered over sleeping children. Apologies made when pride would rather win. Decisions that honor Christ when shortcuts sparkle. Those small, steady choices are how we build on bedrock. Brick by brick, habit by habit, we set our weight on the Rock who won’t shift under us.
So today, let’s bring our worries and our wins, our questions and our quiet hopes. Let’s open our ears wide to the words of Jesus and open our hands wide to obey. Would you take a breath and listen to the voice that calms seas and secures souls? Hear Him, and then, by His grace, do what He says. Simple? Yes. Easy? Not always. Worth it? Always.
Before we pray, let’s set our hearts under the full weight of God’s Word. Let the words roll over you like steady rain on dry ground.
Scripture Reading
Luke 6:46-49 (KJV) 46 And why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say? 47 Whosoever cometh to me, and heareth my sayings, and doeth them, I will shew you to whom he is like: 48 He is like a man which built an house, and digged deep, and laid the foundation on a rock: and when the flood arose, the stream beat vehemently upon that house, and could not shake it: for it was founded upon a rock. 49 But he that heareth, and doeth not, is like a man that without a foundation built an house upon the earth; against which the stream did beat vehemently, and immediately it fell; and the ruin of that house was great.
Psalm 11:3 (KJV) If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?
Do you hear the tenderness and the truth? Jesus is not trying to scare us; He is saving us from sand. He is giving us a way to stand when the stream beats hard. He is inviting us into obedience that isn’t gritted teeth, but glad trust. He is calling us to build where the flood cannot undo and the fear cannot undo.
So let’s ask Him to lead us—step by step, plank by plank—into a life that actually stands. Let’s ask for ears that hear and feet that follow. Let’s ask for a faith that shows up in the small rooms of ordinary days. And when the wind picks up, as it will, let’s expect to remain, not by our grit, but by His grace.
Opening Prayer
Father, we come to You with hearts that long for steady ground. Thank You for sending Jesus, our sure Rock and faithful Lord. Open our ears to hear His words today. Soften our wills to respond without delay. Where we have called You “Lord” and held back our obedience, forgive us and free us. Where our walls feel thin and our courage feels small, strengthen us by Your Spirit to build wisely—plank by plank, choice by choice—on the foundation that cannot fail. Teach us to trust You in the quiet places where no one sees. Guard our homes, heal our hearts, and guide our steps. When the stream beats and the winds rise, hold us fast. We ask this in the strong name of Jesus. Amen.
Jesus asks a clear question. Why call Him “Lord” and ignore what He says. The title means authority. It means ownership. It means He gets the first and final word. The question puts our hearts on the stand. It tests whether our mouths and our moves match.
Luke shows a pattern in the next line. Come. Hear. Do. This is a simple path. Come near to Christ. Sit under His words. Then act on them. This is not hard to follow on paper. It is easy to name. It is also easy to skip one step and still feel religious.
Coming matters. Draw close in prayer. Draw close in the Scriptures. Draw close in worship with God’s people. Put yourself where His voice is plain. Give Him your full attention.
Hearing matters. Take in the whole counsel of God. Do not pick the lines that are easy on your pride. Do not tune out when He speaks about enemies, money, forgiveness, purity, or truth. Let His voice shape the way you think.
Doing matters. Move your feet when He speaks. Arrange your week around His will. Build new habits that match His commands. Stop old habits that work against His words. Let your calendar and your choices tell on your faith.
Luke then gives a picture. A builder who does the quiet work first. He goes down to firm ground. He does not guess. He measures. He checks the base. He knows location matters even before the first wall goes up.
“Digged deep” is a strong phrase. It is patient work. It is often slow work. It is often unseen work. The aim is a base that will hold weight. It is care taken at the start so the house can carry load later.
Jesus calls His words the firm ground. He wants our lives set on them. He is not only giving advice. He is laying lines for us to follow. He knows exactly what holds. He has seen every test. His instruction is the solid layer we need.
This means we take His teaching and work it down into real places. Into how we speak when we are upset. Into what we do with our phone and our time. Into how we sign forms and handle bills. Into how we treat hard people. Into how we make plans for the future. This is how a base gets thick and strong.
Then comes the test. “When the flood arose.” Not if. When. The stream hit hard. The text says it beat on the house. It was loud. It was heavy. It kept coming. There was pressure from the outside that no one inside asked for.
Here is the grace in the picture. The house held. It was not the paint that saved it. It was not the trim or the porch. It was the base that matched the force. It could not be moved because it sat on something that does not move.
This is how the words of Jesus work. They train your reactions before the day of trouble. They set reflexes. They clear the fog when nerves rise. They give you a way to act when feelings surge. They keep you from snapping under weight.
Many of us have seen this in quiet ways. A mind that would have spun stays steady. A heart that would have closed stays open. A tongue that would have cut stays gentle. A hand that would have taken stays clean. A soul that would have quit keeps going. There is a base at work under the floor that other eyes cannot see.
Jesus also gives a warning. There is another builder in the story. He raises walls on loose ground. The site looks fine on a clear day. It feels quick. It feels easy. Then the same stream hits. The fall is sudden and large.
Psalm 11:3 asks a hard line. “If the foundations be destroyed, what can the righteous do?” The verse is not hopeless. It is honest. When the base is gone, things fail even if the frame looks straight. When the base is cracked, fear spreads even when rooms look neat. The cure is not fresh paint. The cure is to fix the base.
So we step back and check the footing of our lives. What carries our hope. What sets our choices. What shapes our sleep at night. What guides our words when no one is watching. If the answer is thin, the fix begins at the base.
Repair is possible. Start with confession. Name where you have set weight on sand. Turn to the Lord and ask for clean hands and a steady heart. Then learn again what He says. Take His clear commands and make clear steps. Ask a wise friend to watch your steps with you. Put guardrails where you slip. Clear your schedule to make room for what He speaks.
This is how Psalm 11:3 turns into action. The righteous can build again. They can reset the base with truth. They can brace weak spots. They can pour new footing with daily trust. They can press the words of Jesus deep into plans, promises, and patterns. Then, when pressure comes, there is something strong to stand on.
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