Author: Jimmy Trimble

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to lean on God when life feels like it’s falling apart—but how easy it is to forget Him when everything is going well?

Recently, I heard a speaker say something that’s stuck with me. He suggested that while we often assume good things and prosperity come from God, and hard times come from the devil, what if sometimes it’s the other way around? What if the devil can use prosperity, comfort, and success to distract us from God?

It’s a challenging thought. Not because we want to doubt blessings, but because it raises a deeper question: what role does comfort play in our faith life?

When our finances are solid, our relationships are smooth, and our plans are working out, it’s tempting to start thinking we’re in control. We might pray less, stop seeking God daily, or let gratitude slip. Without even realizing it, our dependency on God can begin to fade. But maybe that’s when we need Him most—to keep our hearts aligned, our pride in check, and our purpose clear.

The Bible gives us plenty of warnings about this. In Deuteronomy 8:10-14, God warns His people not to forget Him once they’ve entered the promised land and become prosperous:

“When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you. Be careful that you do not forget the Lord your God… Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down… then your heart will become proud and you will forget the Lord your God.”

It’s not that wealth or success is wrong—but if it pulls us away from our relationship with God, then we have to ask: is it still a blessing?

Even Jesus was tempted by Satan with comfort, control, and kingdoms (Matthew 4:8-10). The enemy knew those things could be powerful distractions—even for the Son of God.

So maybe this is worth considering together: could it be that some of the ease or success in our lives is actually making it harder to see our need for God?

And on the flip side—could the struggles we face sometimes be the very things that draw us back into deeper faith?

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Conversation Starters:

1. When things are going well in your life, do you find yourself praying and turning to God more, less, or about the same?
2. Can you think of a time when hardship brought you closer to God?
3. What are some ways we can stay grounded and connected to God in all seasons of life, including prosperous times?
4. Have you ever experienced a time when a “good” thing actually pulled you away from your faith?

“But the Lord God called to the man, ‘Where are you?’ He answered, ‘I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.’ And He said, ‘Who told you that you were naked?’” — Genesis 3:9–11

There’s a question God asked Adam in the garden that still echoes in our hearts today in Buckhead: “Who told you?”

In the quiet of the garden, after sin had crept in, God didn’t come down with immediate punishment. He came with a question. Not because He didn’t know the answer — but because He wanted Adam (and us) to think.

In the same way God wanted Adam to think, He also wants us to think. Consider these questions:

Who told you that you weren’t good enough?
That you’re unworthy?
Unforgivable?
Too broken to be used by God?
Not smart enough, not man enough, not spiritual enough?

Somewhere along the way, many of us started believing voices that don’t sound anything like our Father’s.

Think about it: at what point did other people’s opinions, our own insecurities, or that harsh internal critic start speaking louder than God’s truth?

God’s Voice vs. Every Other Voice

God’s voice builds. It comforts. It restores and leads us toward wholeness.
The enemy’s voice accuses, shames, and divides — from others, from purpose, and from God.

Yet how easily we tune in to the wrong station.

A single negative comment can drown out a dozen kind ones. One failure can suddenly define our worth. And over time, we start living as though the lie was truth.

But here’s the truth: God never said those things about you.

You Are Not What Shame Says

God didn’t shame Adam — He called to him. And He’s still calling.

Whatever label you’ve picked up — failure, screw-up, not enough — it’s not your name.
Your name is son. Beloved. Chosen. Forgiven. Capable. Redeemed.

So, next time that old lie creeps in, ask yourself the same thing God asked Adam:
“Who told you that?”
Then take it to the One whose voice brings life.

Questions:

• Do you agree that sometimes it’s easier to listen to other voices than God’s?
• What voices have you elevated above God’s in your life — maybe without realizing it?
• What’s one lie you’ve believed that you’re ready to let go of?
• Who in your life speaks God’s truth to you — and how can you do the same for someone else this week?

Have you ever noticed how certain thoughts seem to hit harder when you’re already under stress? It’s like the enemy knows exactly when to poke and prod, whispering doubts, fears, and frustrations right when we’re most vulnerable.

Maybe it’s a moment where you feel overwhelmed at work. Suddenly the thought pops up: You’re failing. Or maybe a tough conversation with a loved one leaves you thinking, You’re not good enough.

Here’s a simple idea that might just shake you loose in those moments: do the opposite.

If the thought in your head is, I’m failing, say out loud or in your heart: I’m still standing, and God’s not done with me.

If the thought is, I’m not good enough, flip it: I am made in God’s image. I belong to Him.

It’s not magic. It’s not pretending everything’s fine. It’s more like grabbing the steering wheel before the car goes off the road. It’s a way of calling out the lie and choosing a different path—one that leads back toward truth, peace, and stability.

And here’s the kicker: when you invite God into that moment—when you ask, Lord, help me turn this thought around—He shows up. He always does. Sometimes it’s a sense of peace. Other times it’s clarity, or even just a breath that helps you reset.

James 4:7 tells us to “resist the devil, and he will flee from you”. This practice might be one small way of doing just that. Not by fighting fire with fire, but by choosing to speak light into darkness. It’s not always easy, especially when the pressure is on. But even pausing to consider the opposite of what you’re thinking can be enough to break the cycle and help you find your footing again.

We’re all in this journey together. One of the best things about our group is that we don’t have to pretend we have it all together. We share tools, encouragement, and reminders like this one—not because we’re perfect, but because we’re learning how to lean on God more every day.

So the next time a negative or anxious thought shows up uninvited, try doing the opposite. Speak truth. Claim peace. And invite God into the moment. You might be surprised how much lighter you feel just by flipping the script.

Questions:

1. Do you agree that we are most vulnerable to negative thoughts when we are already under stress?
2. What lies or negative thoughts do you find yourself believing most often?
3. How do you usually try to reset your thinking in tough moments? What role does prayer or Scripture play for you?
4. What role do other men—friends, mentors, or this group—play in helping you recognize and resist false thinking?
5. Do you have any other thoughts or strategies we haven’t covered that might help other men when they encounter the lies of the enemy?
   

Most of us don’t wake up thinking, “Today, I’ll change the world.” We’re just trying to get to work, love our families, and maybe find a little peace.

But what if that’s exactly where transformation starts?

Transformational Christianity isn’t about doing something flashy or famous. It’s about letting Jesus shape our everyday lives—and letting that change spill into the world around us.

In Acts 2:46-47, we see this in action. The early believers “broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people.” And the result? “The Lord added to their number daily.” Their faith wasn’t just personal—it was practical, visible, and contagious.

That’s the beauty of transformation. It doesn’t begin in a’ church building. It begins at your kitchen table, in a conversation with a coworker, or when you choose integrity even when no one notices.

Romans 12:2 says, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” That kind of renewal doesn’t just change what we believe—it changes how we live, how we love, and how we lead.

When our hearts change, our habits follow. We start handling conflict differently. We become more patient, more present, more open to others. That shift—over time—transforms our homes, our workplaces, and our friendships.

And here’s the good news: this isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence. It’s about showing up, day after day, with a willingness to be shaped by God and used by Him—right where you are.

You don’t need to be a pastor to live out your faith in a way that brings change. You just need to be willing. Willing to love someone who’s hard to love. Willing to make time when you’d rather not. Willing to trust God when things are unclear.

That’s transformational Christianity. Quiet. Consistent. Powerful.

You don’t have to change the world. But with Jesus, your life can change someone’s world.

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Questions:

1. What’s one area of your life that God might want to “transform” from the inside out?
2. What distractions or pressures make it hardest for you to live out a transformed life?
3. Have you ever seen someone else’s quiet faith make a big impact? What stood out to you?
4. How can transformation in your own life overflow into your family, workplace, or community?

Last week we talked about bringing gameday excitement to faith. And this week, we’ll look at it from another perspective.

There are seasons when following Jesus feels alive and electric. The Bible speaks to you, prayer flows, and God feels near.

And then there are the dry seasons.

Maybe you’ve been there. You open your Bible, but the words don’t hit. You pray, but it feels like silence. You keep going to church, but something feels flat. It can leave you wondering: What’s wrong with me?

Here’s the truth: spiritual dryness is normal. And it’s not a sign that God is far away. It’s often a sign that He’s doing something deeper in you—something that doesn’t depend on feelings.

Even King David felt it:

“O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you…”
—Psalm 63:1

He wasn’t full of answers. He was full of hunger. And that hunger is part of faith too.

Dry seasons don’t mean your faith is weak. In fact, they can grow it. Why? Because when we keep showing up—when we keep praying, serving, and trusting even when we don’t feel much—we’re learning to walk by faith, not by sight.

That’s maturity.

So what can you do in the dry seasons?

• Be honest with God. He can handle it. Tell Him what you’re feeling—or not feeling.
• Stay in the rhythms. Keep reading, praying, and showing up. Don’t let dryness push you into isolation.
• Lean on community. Sometimes others carry the spark when yours feels dim.
• Remember the truth. God’s love isn’t based on how inspired you feel. He’s with you, always—even in the quiet.

“Let us not grow weary of doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”
—Galatians 6:9

The dry season won’t last forever. But even in it, God is growing something in you.

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Questions:

1. Have you ever been in a spiritually dry season? What did it feel like?
2. What helps you stay connected to God when you are just not feeling it?
3. How do you think God uses silence or dryness to grow our faith?
4. Is there a habit or rhythm that you tend to let go of in these seasons?
5. How can this group help each other stay encouraged when our spiritual tank feels low?

It’s that time of year again—college football season! Saturdays are buzzing with energy. Tailgates fire up, stadiums fill, and living rooms become mini arenas as friends and families gather to cheer on their favorite teams. Jerseys come out of the closet, schedules are built around kickoff times, and emotions swing high and low with every big play.

Why do we love it so much? Because being part of something bigger than ourselves excites us. The joy isn’t just in watching the game—it’s in the build-up, the community, and the sense that this matters.

What if we carried that same excitement into our walk with God? What if Sunday morning felt like game day? What if our men’s group gatherings had the same anticipation as kickoff?

The truth is, our Christian walk isn’t meant to be a solo sport. Hebrews 10:24–25 reminds us: “Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together… but encouraging one another.” Just as a team thrives with the energy of its fans, we thrive when we bring energy and presence to our church and community.

Just as players carefully study their playbooks, we’ve also been given God’s Word to guide our lives. We listen to coaches motivate their players, but we have the ultimate Coach in God, who equips us for every season. And just like athletes push each other to be better, we grow stronger when we push one another toward Christ.

Paul uses a similar picture in 1 Corinthians 9:24, writing, “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.” Just like athletes train with intensity and passion, we as Christian men are invited to live out our faith with the same kind of focus and energy.

Football season is great—it brings joy, connection, and memories. But it’s temporary. Our walk with Jesus is eternal. When we bring the enthusiasm we show on game day into our spiritual lives, we not only grow stronger ourselves—we help build up the whole team.

So this fall, as you gear up for the big games, don’t forget the bigger “game” we’re in together—the one that truly changes lives.

Questions:

1. What gets you most excited about college football season, and why?
2. What did you think about the idea above of bringing that same sense of excitement into church or men’s group?
3. Just like a team relies on every player, how do you think our faith community relies on your unique gifts and presence?
4. What’s one simple step you can take this fall to show up with more energy for your faith community?

There’s a line from the Coldplay song Viva La Vida that has always struck me: “[I] sweep the streets I used to own.” It captures a certain sting—the reality that time, careers, and titles don’t last forever.

At some point in life, every man leaves the workforce – or at least materially reduces his contribution to the role he’s held. The nameplate comes off the office door. The tools are passed on to someone younger. The meetings go on without us. And when that day comes, it can feel like we’ve lost a piece of ourselves.

Even before retirement, many of us feel the tug of this truth. Maybe you didn’t get the promotion. Maybe the business you poured yourself into isn’t thriving the way you hoped. Maybe you’re realizing that no matter how much you achieve, it never seems to fully satisfy.

It’s because our identity was never meant to be anchored in what we do. Our job, our career, our title—they’re temporary. But who we are in Christ? That’s eternal.

Jesus never introduces us by our work. He doesn’t say, “Well, here’s Peter the fisherman” or “Paul the tentmaker.” He calls us sons of God (1 John 3:1), a chosen people, a royal priesthood (1 Peter 2:9). Our worth is not in our paycheck or our performance but in the One who gave His life for us.

And here’s the good news: the earlier we learn this, the freer and more at peace we become—not only when we step away from our career, but right now in the thick of it. When our identity is rooted in Jesus, work is no longer a place where we prove ourselves. It becomes a place where we serve, reflect God’s love, and steward the gifts He’s given us.

So whether you’re decades away from retirement or feeling it right around the corner, remember this: You are somebody—not because of your title, your role, or your accomplishments, but because you belong to Christ.

As Paul reminds us in Galatians 2:20:

“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”

That’s an identity that can never be taken away.

Questions

1. Have you ever felt like your job title or role defined you more than anything else?
2. What happens to our sense of peace when our identity is tied too tightly to our work?
3. How might your day-to-day work look different if you were operating out of your identity in Christ first?
4. For those who have retired or shifted careers, what has God taught you about where your true identity lies?
5. What’s one way you can remind yourself this week that your worth is found in Jesus, not your work?