There are moments in life when two words can carry more hope than a thousand explanations.

“But God.”

Those two words have interrupted death sentences, rewritten family stories, restored broken people, and opened prison doors that shame tried to keep locked forever. They are the words that step into the middle of regret and say, “This is not the end.” They are the words that rise over failure and declare, “Grace gets the final word.” They remind us that heaven is never intimidated by the mess we have made on earth.

I have had more “But God” moments than I can count.

Moments when I did not deserve grace. Moments when I should have faced the full weight of my own consequences. Moments when guilt sat heavy on my chest and shame tried to convince me that I had gone too far, failed too badly, and wandered too long. There have been times when I looked back and thought, “How did God still love me there?”

But God stepped in.

Not because I earned it. Not because I finally cleaned myself up enough to be lovable. Not because I had the right words, the right record, or the right explanation. God stepped in because that is who He is. He is rich in mercy.

Ephesians 2:4-5 says, “But God is so rich in mercy, and he loved us so much, that even though we were dead because of our sins, he gave us life when he raised Christ from the dead. It is only by God’s grace that you have been saved!” (NLT)

That phrase, “rich in mercy,” moves me deeply.

Mercy means we do not receive what we deserve. Mercy means judgment had a case, but grace had a greater claim. Mercy means God saw the worst part of us and still chose to reach for us. Mercy means our failure was real, but it was not final.

And God is not poor in mercy. He is rich in it. He does not ration it. He does not offer a tiny portion and tell us to make it last. He pours it out because of His great love for us.

That is hard for many of us to receive because we live in a world where love often feels conditional. Approval is performance-based. Acceptance is often attached to success. People may celebrate you when you are doing well and distance themselves when you are struggling. Without realizing it, we can start believing God works the same way.

We think, “If I do better, maybe God will love me more.”

“If I mess up again, maybe He will be done with me.”

“If people knew the whole story, maybe they would never see me the same.”

But the Gospel confronts that lie with two powerful words: But God.

The Bible does not say we were slightly confused. It does not say we were spiritually tired. It says we were dead in our sins. Dead means unable to fix ourselves. Dead means unable to climb our way back to God. Dead means there was no human solution strong enough to rescue us.

But God made us alive with Christ.

That is not self-improvement. That is resurrection. That is not God giving us a second chance to prove ourselves. That is God giving us new life through Jesus.

I think about some of my own worst moments, the times when I ignored God, ran in the wrong direction, made selfish decisions, or spoke words I wished I could take back. I think about moments when I knew better and still chose poorly. I think about the times when I did not need more information, I needed surrender.

And still, He loved me.

He did not walk away. He did not wash His hands of me. He did not say, “You made your bed, now lie in it.” The enemy may say that. Shame may say that. People may even say that. But our Heavenly Father says, “Get up, child. I am not finished with you.”

That is the power of mercy.

Mercy does not deny that sin is serious. It simply declares that the cross is stronger. Mercy does not pretend the past never happened. It proclaims that Jesus has authority over it. Mercy does not excuse what is broken. It invites God to redeem it.

In Simple Church, there is a powerful story about Jose Diaz and his father, Luis. For years, Jose had never been able to sit in church and worship beside his father because Luis was in prison. He had been there for twenty-six years. But then DNA evidence proved his innocence, and Luis was released. A few days later, Jose sat beside his father in church for the first time.

Just imagine that moment.

A father and son sitting together in the house of God after years of separation. Years of loss. Years of pain. Years of wondering if the prison walls would ever come down. Then, suddenly, the impossible became reality. A man who had been locked away walked free. A son who had waited for years worshiped beside his father. A family story that seemed defined by prison was interrupted by freedom.

That story is powerful because it is not just about a man being released from a physical prison. It reminds us of what God has called the church to do spiritually.

That is what our staff is being reminded of as we read Simple Church. Church ministry is not about keeping people busy with programs. It is about creating a clear path that helps people meet Jesus, follow Jesus, and walk in the freedom Jesus came to give. Our job is to help free people from their prisons.

Some are trapped in shame. Some are trapped in addiction. Some are trapped in grief, bitterness, fear, confusion, or spiritual defeat. Some people have been locked up so long in their own minds and hearts that freedom almost feels impossible to imagine. They may not need another complicated system. They may need someone to point them clearly to the open door of grace and walk beside them as they take their next step toward freedom.

Some prisons have bars and concrete walls. Others are built out of shame, regret, trauma, pride, insecurity, and sin. Some people are sitting in church every week, but inside they still feel locked away. They sing the songs, pray the prayers, and serve others, but deep down they still feel disqualified.

They believe God has forgiven them in theory, but they struggle to believe He has forgiven them personally.

Maybe that is where you are today.

Maybe you know the verses, but you still carry the weight. Maybe you believe God forgives other people, but when it comes to your own story, you keep making exceptions. Maybe you have let one season, one mistake, one addiction, one failure, one divorce, one decision, or one hidden struggle become the name tag you wear every day.

Let me encourage you: your worst moment is not your identity.

Your past may explain part of your story, but it does not get to define your future. Your failure may have been painful, but it is not more powerful than the blood of Jesus. Your shame may be loud, but it is not Lord. Jesus is Lord.

Jesus said in Luke 4:18 that He was sent “to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free” (NIV).

That is still His mission. Because it is His mission, it must be ours too.

When God brings you back to life, He does not revive you so you can live in regret. He raises you so you can walk in freedom, purpose, and power. He does not pull you out of the grave just so you can sit beside it and stare at where you used to be. He calls you forward.

And when God sets us free, He does not free us only for ourselves. He frees us so we can become part of His mission to help others find freedom too.

That is one of the reasons the church matters so much. We are not just gathering people into a room. We are helping people take their next step toward Jesus. We are helping people move from bondage to freedom, from confusion to clarity, from isolation to community, from shame to identity, from spiritual death to new life in Christ.

Every ministry, every conversation, every prayer, every group, every act of care, and every simple step in discipleship should help open prison doors. We are not called to impress people with church activity. We are called to help them encounter Jesus.

So at some point, we have to stop rehearsing what God has already forgiven.

We have to stop disqualifying ourselves from what mercy has made available. We have to stop letting the enemy replay scenes from a past that Jesus already covered. We have to stop calling ourselves by names heaven does not use.

You are not rejected. You are redeemed.

You are not abandoned. You are beloved.

You are not finished. You are being restored.

Here is what I have learned: it takes bold faith to receive mercy. Not because mercy is hard for God to give, but because it can be hard for us to believe we are truly forgiven. Sometimes we would rather punish ourselves than receive grace because punishment feels more familiar. But Jesus did not die so you could spend the rest of your life trying to pay for what He already paid for.

When you boldly declare, “I am forgiven. I am redeemed. I am covered by mercy,” something begins to shift. Chains begin to break. Fear begins to lift. Hope begins to rise. You stop living like a prisoner of your past and start walking like a child of God.

God does not stop at forgiving you. He helps clean up the mess. He rebuilds the broken places. He teaches you how to live differently. He surrounds you with grace for the process. He can even take the parts of your story you are most ashamed of and turn them into a testimony that helps someone else find freedom.

That is what only God can do.

Only God can bring beauty from ashes.

Only God can bring purpose from pain.

Only God can bring miracles out of messes.

Only God can take what the enemy meant to destroy you and use it to develop you.

So wherever you are today, whether you feel spiritually strong or like you have drifted far, I want to remind you that God is rich in mercy. He has not run out of grace. He has not lost track of you. He has not changed His mind about loving you.

Do not let shame preach louder than Scripture.

Do not let the enemy have the final word over what Jesus already finished.

Do not live weighed down by yesterday’s regrets when God is offering you mercy today.

Lift your head. Open your heart. Receive what Jesus has already made available. You are not who shame says you are. You are who God says you are. And because of Jesus, your story can still be marked by those two life-changing words:

But God.

Prayer:

Father, thank You for being rich in mercy. Thank You for loving me even when I was far from You. Thank You that my past does not disqualify me, my mistakes do not define me, and my shame does not get the final word.

Help me receive the mercy You freely offer through Jesus. Teach me to stop rehearsing what You have already forgiven. Give me the faith to walk in freedom, purpose, and new life.

Lord, make me someone who helps open prison doors for others. Help me see people the way You see them. Help me speak hope where shame has been loud, grace where guilt has been heavy, and freedom where the enemy has tried to keep people bound.

Help our church become a clear path to freedom. Keep us from making ministry more complicated than it needs to be. Teach us to point people to Jesus, walk with them in love, and help them take their next step out of whatever prison has held them captive.

Today I let go of guilt and shame, and I receive Your grace again. I am alive because of You. Use my life, my story, and my obedience to help others discover the freedom found in Christ. In Jesus’ name, Amen.