Pathway of Purpose

Photo by  Virginie-Sankara  on  Unsplash There’s a sacred quiet that comes with being unseen. Not the kind of invisibility born of neglect or rejection, but the purposeful retreat from the spotlight — the hidden life, where the truest acts of faithfulness are never posted, praised, or platformed. In the Kingdom of God, the hidden is not wasted. In fact, it’s often where the deepest transformation occurs. The Hidden Spaces We Avoid We live in a time that rewards visibility. Followers. Influence. Recognition. Likes. When something good happens, we want to share it. When something hard happens, we want to make meaning out of it — publicly. We fear being forgotten. Overlooked. Passed by. But there is an invitation in hiddenness. The soil does its best work unseen. The womb holds and forms without applause. Jesus, too, lived the vast majority of His life in obscurity. Thirty years of carpentry, quiet prayers, unknown meals, family chores. Only three years of public ministry. E...

  “He was despised and rejected— a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. We turned our backs on him and looked the other way. He was despised, and we did not care.” —  Isaiah 53:3, NLT Pain That Shapes Us Suffering is the one universal language we all speak. Whether it’s quiet disappointment or soul-crushing loss, every human life is marked by pain. And yet—when the ache comes, we often believe God is absent. As if joy is His native tongue, and sorrow is a language He doesn’t understand. But the gospel tells another story. It tells of a God who bleeds. A Savior whose glory is revealed not only in resurrection but in crucifixion. A Comforter who does not bypass pain but walks straight into it with us. Sacred noticing in suffering is not pretending we are okay—it is realizing God is already there.  Present. Tender. Weeping alongside us. Jesus and the Wounded Places The story of Thomas in  John 20  is striking. After the resurrection, the disciples tell Th...