Lisa Harper: Experiencing God’s Life-Changing Love (Full Sermon) | TBN

The Humility and Compassion of Jesus: A Lesson in Endurance

Jesus, in all His glory, willingly set aside His scepter and came down to this broken world. He humbled Himself, wrapping a towel around His waist to wash the feet of His disciples. The book of Hebrews reminds us that this very act of humility and love is what gives us the strength to keep going. It anchors our faith and prevents us from drifting away.

Immediately after emphasizing the supremacy and accessibility of Jesus, the writer of Hebrews issues a crucial warning. This warning serves as the central message around which the entire sermon revolves.

Now, let’s be honest—how many of us would say that the past year has been the easiest year of our lives? Likely very few. For those who feel like they’ve been running on empty, barely holding on, you’re not alone.

I know that feeling all too well. Ever since bringing Missy home, exhaustion has settled deep into my bones. People often ask me if I want a husband, but honestly? I’d prefer a nap! Some days, that’s all I long for—a little rest amidst the chaos.

Not too long ago, I found myself in one of those drained and weary moments while traveling from Michigan through Chicago to Nashville. At the airport, the gate agent announced that due to bad weather, our flight to Chicago might be canceled. But then, with an almost unsettling cheerfulness, she added, “But we’re going to board you anyway!”

I remember thinking, That makes absolutely no sense. But I was trying to keep my Christian composure after attending a conference, so I obediently boarded the plane. It was one of those tiny aircraft with just two seats on one side and one on the other. If you’ve flown recently, you know that airplane seats now seem designed for supermodels—cramped and uncomfortable.

As I settled into my seat, I was secretly thrilled that the seat next to me remained empty. Maybe I’ll get some peace on this flight after all. But just as they were about to close the boarding door, they reopened it. And that’s when she appeared—an elderly woman with at least five bags, looking around for her seat.

From 25 feet away, I could tell—she’s a talker.

Sure enough, she smiled at me and asked, “Is this seat 12D?”

For a split second, I was tempted to say, No, ma’am, it isn’t. But she looked so sweet—probably in her 80s—so I sighed and helped her settle in. She attempted to make eye contact, but I avoided it. Experience had taught me that eye contact often leads to long conversations, and I simply wasn’t in the mood.

I focused on my magazine, trying to immerse myself in an article about Jen and Brad. But the woman was determined. She tapped my shoulder.

“Are you from Detroit?” she asked.

I shook my head and responded with a curt, “No, ma’am.” I gave her nothing—absolutely nothing.

Still, she wasn’t deterred. Moments later, she tapped me again.

I groaned inwardly. It’s going to be one of those flights.

Removing my earbud even slower this time, I braced myself for the next question.

“Are you from Chicago?” she asked.

And just like that, I realized—this conversation wasn’t going to end anytime soon.