Monday, 10 November 2025

Connection vs. Competition

Connection vs. Competition

Point. Pause. Proceed.


Point: When Hope Meets Disappointment

For those of you who know me, you’ll know I’ve been single for a while now. And for those who don’t—well, here’s the truth: I’ve prayed more times than I can count for a dually yoked partner, one who would walk beside me, not ahead or behind, but in alignment with God’s plan for both of us.

It hasn’t happened yet.

There’s no bitterness in that statement, just honesty. Because for a long time, I believed if I prayed enough, prepared enough, and stayed faithful enough, God would eventually say, “Now is the time.” But every time I’ve gone into a first meeting—not even a date, but a hopeful conversation—with a Christian woman, that hope turns quickly into disappointment.

Not because anyone did anything wrong. It’s not about blame. It’s about energy—the invisible current of how God designed us to relate to one another. For years, I couldn’t find the words to describe what felt “off.”

Until recently.


The Caribbean Lesson

A few months ago, I was blessed to visit a Caribbean country. The kind of place that could be on a postcard—crystal water, warm people, colours so vivid they seemed painted by the Creator Himself.

The trip was rest for my body but a revelation for my spirit.

I met a few single women from that country and nearby islands. Nothing romantic happened—just conversations. But the feeling was profoundly different. There was a natural flow. No posturing. No power struggle. Just mutual respect.

She was fully in her feminine energy—graceful, confident, nurturing. I was in my masculine energy—present, strong, at peace. For once, we weren’t competing. We were connecting.

And I’ll be honest—it felt like heaven touched earth for a moment.

When I returned home, I told my mom about the experience, and she listened carefully, as moms do. After a pause, she said one line that hit me like divine truth:

“Connection versus competition.”

That phrase became the key I didn’t know I was missing.


Where We Went Wrong

Our Western culture has been busy rewriting the script of God’s design. We’ve blurred the beautiful distinctions between men and women, calling sameness equality and losing sight of divine complementarity.

Now, before anyone jumps to conclusions—this isn’t about one being “better” than the other. This is about design. When we ignore God’s blueprints, we shouldn’t be surprised when the house collapses.

Look around—how are we doing in marriage, in dating, in family unity?

We’re missing the mark.

What God designed for connection has become a battlefield of competition. Many men feel unnecessary; many women feel unsafe. And both are longing for something their souls remember but their minds can’t quite name: the harmony of Eden.


Pause: Returning to God’s Design

Let’s pause and open the Word, because clarity doesn’t come from culture—it comes from Christ.


1. The Original Connection: Adam and Eve

In Genesis 2:18 (NIV), the Lord God said,

“It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.”

That verse isn’t about hierarchy. It’s about harmony. The Hebrew word for helperezer—is the same word used for God Himself when He rescues Israel. It means powerful ally, not assistant.

Adam didn’t need competition. He needed connection—someone to complement his design, not contend with it.

When Eve was formed from his rib, not his head or his feet, it was symbolic. They were to walk side by side, equal in value, different in purpose.

That’s divine balance.


2. The Fall and the Fight

After sin entered, something shifted. Genesis 3:16 (NIV) says,

“Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.”

That was never God’s intent; it was the result of rebellion. Sin introduced struggle where there had once been synchronicity.

From that point on, humanity’s relationship dynamics became tainted by competition instead of cooperation—domination instead of devotion.

And isn’t that exactly what we see today? The power struggles, the dating games, the unspoken war between the sexes—all echoes of Eden’s distortion.


3. The Redemption Through Christ

But here’s the good news: Jesus came to restore what was lost—not just between God and humanity, but between man and woman.

Ephesians 5:25 (NIV) reminds men:

“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.”

That’s not control. That’s sacrificial leadership.

And Ephesians 5:33 adds:

“Each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.”

Love and respect. Masculine and feminine. Different roles, equal worth.

God never called us to sameness. He called us to oneness.


Cultural Clash: The Western Shift

Our society preaches empowerment but forgets alignment. It teaches independence at the cost of interdependence. And somewhere along the way, we began to see connection as weakness.

Men were told to suppress their leadership. Women were told to suppress their softness. And the result? A world full of people too guarded to be genuine.

When both partners operate in masculine energy, it becomes a battle of wills. When both are trapped in passive energy, there’s no direction. But when a woman rests in her God-given feminine grace and a man stands in his Spirit-led strength, peace enters the equation.

It’s not about dominance—it’s about divine rhythm.


Scripture Speaks to Both

Paul’s letters weren’t meant to confine; they were meant to clarify.
1 Corinthians 11:11-12 (NIV) says,

“Nevertheless, in the Lord woman is not independent of man, nor is man independent of woman. For as woman came from man, so also man is born of woman. But everything comes from God.”

It’s cyclical, not competitive.

Even Jesus demonstrated both divine strengths—He wept with compassion (John 11:35) and stood firm with conviction (Matthew 21:12). True Christlike energy is balanced, not blurred.


Pause Continued: The Spiritual Root of Competition

If we peel back the layers, competition isn’t just cultural—it’s spiritual.

Satan’s rebellion was rooted in competition with God’s authority. He wanted equality without obedience. Sound familiar?

That same spirit whispers today, “You don’t need him,” or “You don’t need her.” And while independence sounds noble, isolation is never God’s goal. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 (NIV) says,

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labour: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.”

That’s connection. That’s partnership. That’s kingdom living.


The Emotional Cost

Let’s be honest—the loneliness epidemic isn’t just emotional; it’s spiritual. We’ve traded covenant for convenience, roles for resentment, and leadership for labels.

But deep down, men still crave respect, and women still crave love. That’s not outdated—that’s divine design.

Every time I’ve walked away from another first meeting that felt like an interview instead of a connection, I’ve felt the ache of what’s missing: the ease of divine alignment. The peace that comes when both hearts rest in their God-given roles.

Because when a relationship reflects the Creator’s order, there’s rest—not resistance.


Proceed: Three Ways to Realign with God’s Design

We’ve made our Point—we see the cultural distortion.
We’ve taken our Pause—we’ve reflected on the Word.
Now it’s time to Proceed—to walk in truth.


1. Reclaim Your Spiritual Posture

Before we can connect with someone else, we have to reconnect with God.

Romans 12:2 (NIV) says,

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

We must detox from the world’s dating patterns and return to the Kingdom’s design.

For men, that means standing strong in leadership—not control, but service. Christ led by washing feet, not pointing fingers.

For women, that means resting in grace, not striving for position. The Proverbs 31 woman wasn’t passive—she was powerful, but she knew her power came from peace, not pride.

When each person honours their divine role, connection flows naturally because both are walking in God’s rhythm.


2. Honour the Energy of the Opposite

Instead of competing, celebrate what the other brings.

A man’s strength isn’t a threat to a woman’s worth, and a woman’s softness isn’t a threat to a man’s strength. They complete each other.

1 Peter 3:7 (NIV) says,

“Husbands, in the same way be considerate as you live with your wives, and treat them with respect as the weaker partner and as heirs with you of the gracious gift of life.”

“Weaker” doesn’t mean lesser—it means delicate, precious, like fine glass that reflects light.

When we start seeing each other as divine reflections instead of rivals, we open the door for healing and harmony.

Let her be radiant. Let him be rooted. Let both be redeemed.


3. Build Kingdom Relationships, Not Cultural Ones

The goal isn’t to “find someone.” The goal is to build something—a covenant that glorifies God.

Matthew 6:33 (NIV) reminds us,

“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.”

Connection begins when two hearts are seeking the same King.

Stop chasing chemistry and start cultivating Christ-centered clarity.

Ask:

  • Does this relationship bring me closer to God?
  • Does it align with my calling?
  • Do we both understand the beauty of masculine and feminine design, as God intended?

If the answer is yes, the connection will follow. If the answer is no, don’t force it.

Because what’s meant for you will never make you fight for peace.


Restoring Joy in God’s Alignment

When we live in divine order, we live in divine joy.

Psalm 37:4 (NIV) says,

“Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.”

Notice the sequence: delight first, desire second. When we take delight in Him, our desires realign with His will—and that includes relationships.

Maybe the reason some of us are still single isn’t because we’re unworthy of love, but because God is still refining our definition of it.

He’s not withholding; He’s preparing.

And when the right person comes, the energy won’t feel forced. It will flow, because it’s been designed in heaven before it’s discovered on earth.


Reflection: The Power of Connection

I’ve come to realize that connection isn’t just about romance—it’s about resonance. It’s when your soul recognizes peace in another person’s presence.

Competition, on the other hand, drains that peace. It’s rooted in fear—the fear of being unseen, unheard, or unloved.

But perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18 NIV).

When both people walk in that kind of love, there’s no scoreboard, no silent battle. Just two souls walking hand-in-hand toward Christ.


The Prayer of Realignment

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for creating us in Your image—male and female, equal and unique.
Forgive us for the times we’ve allowed culture to confuse what You designed for beauty.
Teach us again how to honour one another.
Help us, as men, to lead with humility and strength.
Help women to walk in grace and peace.
And for those still waiting, including me, remind us that our worth isn’t found in whether we’re chosen by another,
but in the fact that we’ve already been chosen by You.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.


Closing: Proceeding with Purpose

So where do we go from here?

We Point to the problem—our culture’s confusion.
We Pause to reflect on Scripture’s design.
And we Proceed—not with haste, but with hope.

Hope that connection still exists.
Hope that God still writes love stories.
Hope that when the time is right, connection will triumph over competition.

Until then, I’ll keep praying, keep trusting, and keep walking in the peace that comes from knowing that when God aligns two hearts, the world doesn’t need to understand—it only needs to witness His glory.

Because in the end, the greatest connection of all isn’t between man and woman—it’s between Creator and creation. And from that connection, every other one finds its meaning.

Sunday, 9 November 2025

There Is No Hate Like Christian Love

There Is No Hate Like Christian Love

There’s a phrase that’s been rolling around in my mind for a while now: “There is no hate like Christian love.”

At first, when my daughter said those words to me, I’ll admit it stopped me in my tracks. I wasn’t offended at her — not really — but something in me stirred. I felt that instinctive, almost defensive pulse rise up in my spirit, the one that wants to correct, to explain, to show why she’s wrong and I’m right. But in that moment, the Holy Spirit gently pressed pause on my heart and said, “Listen first, Craig. Don’t rush to fix what I need you to feel.”

That conversation with my daughter wasn’t about winning a debate or defending the faith; it was about realizing how often we as believers forget what the heart of Christ actually looks like in motion. We speak about love, grace, acceptance, and diversity of thought — but when we’re truly tested by someone who sees differently than we do, our reactions often reveal how much work we still have to do.

It was a humbling moment — not because she was right about Christian hate, but because she saw something in how we, as the body of Christ, sometimes act that I could no longer deny. Her words became a mirror. And sometimes the hardest thing to do is look in the mirror when we know there’s truth behind the reflection.


When Love Becomes Selective

As I reflected on our conversation later that night, I realized how easily Christian love can become conditional love.

We say “all are welcome,” but often there’s an invisible asterisk attached: as long as you agree with our interpretation, fit our moral template, and share our worldview. The modern church, like the culture around it, has mastered the art of selective acceptance.

It reminds me of how Jesus was treated by the religious leaders of His day. The Pharisees, who claimed to be the keepers of God’s truth, couldn’t stand the radical love He embodied. Jesus loved beyond their lines, healed beyond their rules, and forgave beyond their comfort zones. In doing so, He exposed the hypocrisy of hearts that wanted to look holy more than they wanted to be holy.

In Matthew 23:27-28 (NIV), Jesus said:

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.”

That’s a hard truth — especially when you realize He wasn’t speaking to the sinners on the streets, but to the religious insiders.

And maybe that’s where the phrase “there is no hate like Christian love” quietly finds its home. Because when the people called to love unconditionally start deciding who’s worthy of that love, we no longer reflect the cross — we reflect the crowd that shouted “Crucify Him!”


When My Daughter Spoke Truth Without Knowing It

My daughter isn’t a believer right now, at least not in the way we would define it. But that doesn’t mean she’s far from God — it just means she’s on her journey.

When she said, “There is no hate like Christian love,” it wasn’t meant as mockery. It was an observation. She had seen people claim the name of Christ and yet treat others as though their differences disqualified them from compassion.

At first, I wanted to tell her, “That’s not true, honey. Christianity is about love!” But as soon as that thought formed, I realized — she wasn’t wrong about what she’s witnessed. What she’s seen in some Christians — maybe even in me at times — is that we say we love, but only when it’s convenient, when it fits the narrative, when it doesn’t cost us too much pride.

So instead of arguing, I chose to listen. I told her, “Thank you for sharing that. Can I write about it someday?” And she smiled and said yes.

In that small exchange, I felt the Spirit whisper: “This is what meeting people where they are looks like.”

Because real love — Christ-like love — doesn’t start with correction. It starts with connection.


Old Testament Reflections — When God Met People Where They Were

When we look back through Scripture, God has always met His people in the mess of their humanity.

Take Jonah, for example. God called him to go to Nineveh — a city full of sin, arrogance, and violence — and tell them to repent. But Jonah didn’t want to go. He didn’t think they deserved God’s mercy. So he ran in the opposite direction.

When God finally brought him back (through the belly of a fish, of course), Jonah preached reluctantly, and the people repented. Yet instead of rejoicing that an entire city turned back to God, Jonah became angry.

He said to the Lord, in Jonah 4:2 (NIV):

“Isn’t this what I said, Lord, when I was still at home? That is what I tried to forestall by fleeing to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity.”

Jonah didn’t hate Nineveh because he was evil — he hated them because he couldn’t understand God’s mercy being that wide.

And don’t we do the same sometimes? We love the idea of grace when it covers us, but struggle with it when it covers others we disagree with.

Another example is Moses and the Israelites. Over and over, they rebelled, complained, and worshiped idols, yet God still provided manna, protection, and leadership. His love wasn’t based on performance; it was rooted in His covenant. That’s the kind of love Jesus later embodied — one that endures even when rejected.


New Testament Examples — Jesus and the Outcasts

If we want to know what real love looks like, we only need to look at how Jesus treated people whom others avoided.

He spoke to the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4), even though cultural rules forbade it. He dined with tax collectors like Matthew and Zacchaeus (Luke 5:27-32; Luke 19:1-10), even though they were considered traitors. He touched lepers when everyone else crossed the street.

Everywhere He went, Jesus broke man-made barriers in the name of divine love.

And yet, who were the ones most offended by His actions? The religious elite. Those who thought they already knew God best were often the ones least able to recognize Him standing right in front of them.

That’s the same tension we face today. When we claim to love like Christ but refuse to step outside the comfort zones of our own convictions, our “love” begins to look more like judgment dressed in Scripture.

In John 13:34-35 (NIV), Jesus gave a new command:

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

Notice what He didn’t say. He didn’t say, “They will know you are my disciples if you win every theological debate.” He didn’t say, “They will know you are mine if your doctrine is perfect.”

He said they will know by how we love.

That’s it.


When Acceptance Isn’t Agreement

This is where the modern tension lies. We live in a world that preaches tolerance but practices conditional acceptance. And sadly, the Church sometimes mirrors that same inconsistency.

We say, “Come as you are,” but secretly mean, “Come as you are — just don’t stay that way too long or make us uncomfortable.”

But love doesn’t require agreement to be genuine. Jesus never compromised truth, but He also never weaponized it. His truth was always wrapped in compassion.

Think about the woman caught in adultery in John 8:3-11. The crowd wanted to stone her, but Jesus stooped down, wrote in the sand, and said, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone.” One by one, they walked away.

When it was just Him and her, He said, “Then neither do I condemn you… Go now and leave your life of sin.”

That is truth wrapped in love. Mercy before message.


Why Her Words Hurt — and Healed

When my daughter said her piece, it hurt — not because she was attacking my faith, but because she was pointing out the blind spot in how it’s sometimes represented.

It forced me to ask myself:

  • Have I ever made someone feel small while trying to prove my faith was big?
  • Have I ever chosen to be right instead of being relational?
  • Have I ever spoken about grace but withheld it when it was most needed?

If I’m honest, yes.

And yet, that honesty became a healing force. Because in recognizing my own imperfection, I was reminded why I need Jesus daily. Not as a concept, but as my living source of humility, compassion, and strength.


The Challenge of the Modern Church

We are living in an age where division has become entertainment. People no longer discuss to understand — they debate to win.

And somewhere along the line, Christians got pulled into that same cultural current. We’ve made social media our pulpit and forgotten that shouting online rarely changes hearts.

But Jesus didn’t shout His message — He lived it.

He led by washing feet. He preached by forgiving enemies. He served by carrying a cross.

That’s the kind of leadership we’re called to reflect. But to do so, we have to let go of the need to always have the last word.

As Proverbs 15:1 (NIV) reminds us:

“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”

The Church doesn’t need louder voices — it needs softer hearts.


Three Ways to Lead More Like Christ

So how do we lead like Jesus when the world — and even our own circles — are divided? How do we reflect true Christian love that doesn’t resemble hate in disguise?

1. Lead with Compassion, Not Comparison

When Jesus saw people, He didn’t measure them by how close or far they were from perfection. He looked at their potential through grace.

In Matthew 9:36 (NIV) it says:

“When He saw the crowds, He had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.”

To lead with compassion means seeing others through the eyes of need, not judgment. It’s choosing to listen before speaking, to understand before responding.

When someone believes differently than you, pause and remember: God is still working in their story, just like He’s working in yours.

2. Lead with Truth Wrapped in Grace

Jesus never diluted truth — but He always delivered it with love.

John 1:14 (NIV) says:

“The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. We have seen His glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

Grace and truth are meant to coexist. Truth without grace crushes; grace without truth deceives. When both are held together, they heal.

Leading with truth wrapped in grace means standing firm in conviction while staying soft in delivery.

3. Lead with Presence, Not Performance

One of the most overlooked aspects of Jesus’ ministry is His presence. He didn’t rush through people’s pain — He sat in it with them.

When Lazarus died, Jesus wept (John 11:35). He could have skipped straight to the miracle, but He paused to mourn first. That’s presence.

Leading like Christ means valuing people over productivity. It means showing up even when there’s no spotlight, no applause, no visible reward — simply because love shows up.


Closing Reflection — A Love That Looks Like Jesus

As I think back on that conversation with my daughter, I’m actually thankful for it. Because sometimes the Holy Spirit speaks truth through unexpected voices.

Her phrase — “There is no hate like Christian love” — still echoes, but now it serves as a reminder, not a rebuke. A reminder that our calling as believers is to live in such a way that those words no longer feel true.

The goal isn’t to be perfect; it’s to be present. The goal isn’t to win arguments; it’s to win hearts. The goal isn’t to defend Christianity; it’s to reflect Christ.

And that begins one conversation, one act of grace, one humble moment at a time.

Because when we love like Jesus — without agenda, without pride, without conditions — the world can no longer say there’s no hate like Christian love.

They’ll have to admit: there’s no love like Christ’s love.


Final Prayer

Lord, help us to love like You did — wide, deep, and without conditions.
Help us to meet people where they are, not where we wish they’d be.
Give us courage to lead with compassion, wisdom to speak truth with grace,
and the humility to sit in silence when our presence says more than our words.

May Your Church be known not for its walls, but for its warmth.
Not for its judgment, but for its joy.
Not for its noise, but for its nearness.

And may those who doubt or drift — like my daughter and so many others —
find in our imperfect love a glimpse of You.

In Jesus’ Name,
Amen.