Zephyrhills First Nazarene

09/02/2026

The Splinter We Won’t Pull Out

I used to think grace was something you had to go hunting for, like it was hiding under the couch cushions with the remote and that one rogue Goldfish cracker. But the longer I walk with Jesus, the more I realize grace isn’t hiding at all. It’s more like sunlight pouring through every window in the house — and we’re the ones who went and nailed the curtains shut.
Because here’s the thing: God isn’t stingy with grace. He’s not portioning it out like He’s worried He’ll run low before Friday. Grace is who He is — Father who keeps watch, Jesus who took the blame with His whole heart, Spirit who sticks closer than your best friend who knows your coffee order by memory. Grace falls off of Him the way light falls off the sun. It’s just what He does.
So if grace is that abundant, why do so many of us feel like we’re standing in the shade?
Turns out the shade is homemade.
One of the barriers is the sin we’ve decided we’re keeping — the one God has asked us to release, and we’ve responded with, “Okay, but… what if I just hold onto it a little longer?” The other barrier is sneakier. It’s bitterness. It’s that tiny splinter we got years ago from someone who hurt us, and instead of pulling it out, we just learned to live around it. We tell ourselves we’re protecting something. Really, we’re just infected.
And here’s the wild part: the person who hurt you probably doesn’t deserve your forgiveness. I know. But you didn’t deserve God’s either, and He handed it to you anyway — freely, fully, and at a cost you and I could never repay. Forgiveness was never about them earning it. It’s about you finally getting to put the splinter down.
I think that’s why God keeps inviting us back to grace every single day — not because we did something impressive enough to earn a refill, but because He knows we’ll need somewhere to set our baggage down again tomorrow. Gratitude for the grace you got today is what makes you brave enough to ask for more tomorrow.
So today, just do one thing: name the splinter. You don’t have to fix it before the next commercial break. But grace can’t get to the places we won’t open up.
Let the light in. There’s more of it than you think.

08/30/2026

Join us as Pastor Nick reads the Word from 2 Samuel 13.

08/23/2026

Join us for a new sermon set from Word of the Lord.

08/22/2026

If you’ve been looking for a place to breathe, belong, and be reminded of hope, we’d love to welcome you. Come experience community, worship, and the steady grace of Jesus—there’s a seat waiting for you.

08/21/2026

08/19/2026

Have you ever watched a juggler ride a unicycle while spinning plates on every finger? It’s impressive, sure — but also a little dizzying. Life can feel like that sometimes. So many things moving at once, so many responsibilities wobbling in the air, and we think, what’s one more plate? For years I thought being able to juggle everything was a strength, but somewhere along the way I realized it might actually be a struggle to say no. Maybe the juggler isn’t meant to keep all those plates spinning forever. Maybe we aren’t either.

I think about those oxen in Bible times, carrying heavy yokes stacked with weight. And then I hear Jesus’ voice cutting through the noise, reminding His disciples — and us — that His yoke is easy and His burden is light. Matthew 11:28–30 isn’t just a verse; it’s an invitation to stop juggling what’s wearing us out and start resting in what He offers. There’s a holy kind of freedom in learning to set a few plates down, to find new rhythms, to choose rest that goes deeper than a quick nap. It’s the kind of rest that settles your soul and reminds you that God didn’t call you to carry everything — just what He’s asked of you.

The plates we spin don’t have to be all the plates. We can share the load. We can slow the pace. And we can rest in Jesus, who carries what we can’t, steadies what we drop, and gives peace where our juggling once lived.

Grace & Peace,
Amie