Your pause isn’t the end…

God is about to do something unprecedented in the Church and in the heart of the nation…

Those three dots. Pitch, pace, pause – pounce! Have you ever had a moment where everything hangs on one breath? Genesis 3:22 gives us the first biblical example of ellipsis (…) Then the Lord God said, “Behold, the man has become like one of us in knowing good and evil. Now, lest he reach out his hand and take also of the tree of life and eat, and live forever…”

The ominous moment statement trails off into nothing, just silence. And stops. It’s the first ellipsis in Scripture. A divine pause. God lets the weight settle. He has your attention.

He isn’t uncertain. He isn’t stuck. He’s restraining something. Not power, but mercy. He’s not forgotten you. You need to know that more than anything else written here. That’s a crunch gear-change, but I know some of my readers and this is what you need to hear.

The man and woman have crossed a line. They’ve taken what wasn’t theirs to take. They’ve eaten, their eyes have been opened, and now they stand in this strange new knowledge – naked, ashamed, afraid. And God says, “they’ve become like one of us”. The text pulls you back, reminding you of Genesis 1:26, “Let us make man in our image.” The divine “us” again. A whisper of the Trinity, the shared knowing of Father, Son, and Spirit. It’s not about glory for man. This is ruin. They’ve become like God, but not in the way the serpent promised. Not in wisdom, but in guilt, separation and in death.

And now God does something unexpected. He guards the way to life.

That long pause, and unceasing silence at the end of the sentence tells you everything and leaves you in suspense. If Adam and Eve reach out and grab the tree of life in this state, will they will be frozen in it? Immortal, but fractured, broken and hopeless. No turning back. No redemption. Never at peace with God, just eternal rebellion. So mercifully God engages, not to slam the door, but to firmly hold it shut until the time is right to open it – from the other side. The three dots loitering on the end of the unfinished sentence do their job, speaking of promise, life and hope.

Here’s where the gospel begins to shine through. That tree, the one they were barred from, was not destroyed. It was protected. Not out of cruelty, but compassion. The flaming sword doesn’t say, you’ll never come back. It says, not like this. God isn’t just reacting. He’s preserving the future.

The pause is only for a moment as you grasp the staggering news; there’s another tree coming. Another man. But this time, he won’t reach out to grasp life. He’ll lay it down. Jesus hangs on the cross, the true tree, with thorns on his head and blood on his side and in that precarious moment, the sword isn’t guarding anymore. It’s falling. The curtain tears. Access is fully restored, but not to Eden. To something better. It’s the very presence of a kingdom that is absolutely unshakeable, and a life full of righteousness, blamelessness and holiness.

That ellipsis in Genesis becomes the dramatic and opportune open doorway later in the gospels. God didn’t finish the sentence then because the sentence wasn’t finished until the cross.

The man in the garden of necessity, had to be kept from the tree but now the man on the wooden cross, says, “today you will be with me in paradise.” That’s not empty rhetoric. That’s access. The gate closed in Genesis is opened in Christ.

And here’s where it comes to life for us. You don’t get eternal life by stretching out your hand like Adam. You don’t choose it yourself and grab it. You receive it – by faith. On God’s terms. Through Christ’s wounds. In surrender, not striving. If you try to live forever on your own terms, you’ll destroy yourself. God won’t let you. That’s mercy, not rejection.

So unlike most of my subscribers who have already walked this path before, maybe you’re standing somewhere between the trees. Maybe you just need that reassurance… Caught in the silence. Unsure what’s next. Hear the unfinished sentence, and hear the voice that finished it with the work that shed his blood. Come. Not to fix yourself or prove anything. Just come. The sword no longer turns against you. The way is open. The future of a life surrendered to God is full of God’s richest blessings …

For my friends, He who has begun a good work in you …

Maybe that’s exactly where you find yourself. You’ve seen God move. You’ve tasted his grace, served his people, stepped into moments you knew were God’s doing. You’ve carried fire, led, prayed, spoken, trusted. Yet now it feels like everything has slowed to three small dots in your own story. An ellipsis you didn’t choose. A pause you can’t quite explain.

That pause doesn’t mean God is done. It means he’s holding the moment with purpose. Just as he restrained Adam for mercy’s sake, he holds you now for the sake of what comes next. You’re not sidelined. You’re not forgotten. You’re being positioned.

So don’t fill the silence with fear. Don’t rush to finish the sentence yourself. Stay with him in the pause. Pray with honesty. Stay obedient in the small things. Open the Scriptures and let God’s word touch your inner being asking the Spirit to steady your heart, sharpen your hearing, and ready your hands.

The God who guarded the first tree and opened the second isn’t finished with you. Those three dots in your life are not the end. They’re the deep, intense breath before the next line he is about to write. Stay close. Stay surrendered. Stay expectant.

God is using the ellipsis to prepare you for what he is about to unfold…

This changes everything …

Years ago whilst leading a church in London I was given a financial sign-writing gift to put ‘a bible text’ above the platform at the front of the church. The mind raced. I was planning on preaching from Hebrews and settled with a fantastic verse that became a focus to everything we did trying to avoid the safe, manageable and less demanding. “Come ye apart and rest awhile” didn’t seem to fit the bill. “Repent and believe” was a bit too challenging for first time visitors whilst they sat listening to a sermon on the love of Jesus.

I settled for Hebrews 13:8 which set the benchmark for everything we had given ourselves to, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.”

That isn’t 8” tall gold leaf sentiment. It’s a blunt reminder for people tempted to drift, living casually in the distractions of life. The verse sits in the middle of a warning not to get swept away by strange and blatantly false teachings, right after a call to remember outstanding faith-filled leaders who once preached the word of God and stood their ground with God-focused faith. They came and went. Seasons changed. Some fell. Others finished well. But Jesus is different, did not evolve, expire or edit himself. If a name was to be up there in lights or in gold leaf font – it’s His.

It’s one thing to muse over what Jesus did in Galilee and throughout Israel with the impact He had as the crowds thronged around Him, amazed, astonished and perplexed as with a single word demons left, blind eyes opened, deaf ears popped and dead people got up, awakened like a teenager from deep sleep. All of that is great but Jude brings a staggering challenge to us that hints at the fact if you think that Jesus is totally awesome, majestic and simply amazing, think again – you’ve seen nothing! “Now I want to remind you, although you once fully knew it, that Jesus, who saved a people out of the land of Egypt, afterward destroyed those who did not believe.”

Jude, making that assertion doesn’t blink. Under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit he writes that the one who crushed Pharaoh, split the sea and brought Israel out with a mighty hand was Jesus. The same Jesus who now calls you to follow. Not a softer, post-resurrection version. The same eternal Son who always was, always will be. Perhaps this is a prophetic gauntlet thrown down at the feet of the Church today? He’s still as awesome as ever before.

So what are we being told? I’ll explain.

We don’t get to swap out Jesus for a new model or way of ‘doing Jesus’. People speak of us needing another Pentecost, which isn’t true – there is nothing wrong with the one God gave. The problem is with us. The same here with Jesus. We don’t need an upgraded Christ, complete with extra RAM and a faster processor or a more socially-refined, culturally-acceptable, gentler Messiah to suit the politically correct day we find ourselves in. He already is all we need.

Take a look at Jesus who walked dusty roads with vast crowds gathered around Him, who overturned temple tables, healed lepers, opened blind eyes, raised the dead and silenced storms – He’s exactly is the same as the One we stand before today. He doesn’t change, He’s never changed. There is no conundrum. No difference. Play spot the difference with Jesus and you’ll be there for a very, very long time. The One who poured out the Spirit in the early church is the one patiently, skilfully and intentionally building his church today. The same Christ who saves by grace also judges unbelief. That hasn’t changed. #awkward

Let’s make it personal.

His power hasn’t faded.
If Jesus saved a people from Egypt, your chaos isn’t too much for him. Your addiction, your bitterness, your spiritual apathy – none of it intimidates him. He is not exhausted by your sin, repentance, sin, repentance… He doesn’t need time to recover before helping you again. Sigh! If he could carry a nation through the sea, he can carry you through your difficulties, your failure, your relapse, your unbelief.

His holiness hasn’t softened. That’s a challenge.
Jude says, plainly, that Jesus later destroyed those who did not believe. He saved them, then judged them. The same Jesus. He is not indifferent to your compromise. He is not winking at your pride. Grace doesn’t mean you’re untouchable. It means you were bought. The blood shed came at a price.

His commitment hasn’t flickered.
When Hebrews says Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever, it means he’s not ever going anywhere. He doesn’t change his mind about those he saves, or deviate in any way from who He is. He doesn’t give up when you’re slow. He doesn’t lose interest when you’re spiritually dull, numb to the leading and guidance of the Spirit. The same compassion that drew near to lepers draws near to you, calling you. The same patience that trained Peter trains you. The same authority that raised the dead speaks peace to your chaos.

So what does that mean for now?

It means you rest your faith on the real Christ. Not a diluted Jesus. Not the Jesus of your last Christian conference emotional high. Not the Jesus reduced to a subordinate, controlling, out of context doctrine or boxed into a personality type. Instead, focus on the living, reigning Christ who saved Israel, bore your sin, rose in power, and will return in glory.

You don’t need a fresh reinvention of Jesus. You need to return to the One who’s been rock-steady since the beginning.

If he is the same Jesus who led Israel out, then you do not face today on your own. You are not left to figure it out with a second-rate Saviour or a tired, retired Redeemer. The same Jesus who tore open the Red Sea is walking with you into Monday morning.

So stop thinking you’re alone or behaving like you need to fix yourself before he’ll come close. Never craft a Christianity that edits out the cross, the blood, the Spirit, the fire, the fear, the joy.

He hasn’t changed. Take a long look at Him and marvel.

Yesterday.

Today

For the Ages to come.

That calls for renewed confidence, faith and obedience. All things are possible.

The adventure of a lifetime continues.