I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how God holds things together—not just in the grand, cosmic sense, but in the details of life. If you had told me years ago that Amy and I—both raised Unitarian Universalist—would not only come to Christ, but do so together, I would’ve laughed. The odds of one of us finding faith were slim, much less both of us. And yet, here we are. God was weaving something all along.
I have been seeing that same thread in other ways. I recently reconnected with one of my best friends from high school—someone I hadn’t spoken to in almost 25 years. He’s a pastor now, and I felt a nudge to reach out, to share my story. What I didn’t know was that he needed that conversation just as much as I did. He told me, “I really believe that God brought us back into relationship at just the perfect time for me. Thank you for following His prompts and finding me.”
I had almost brushed off the idea of reaching out, but looking back, I can see that small prompting was God’s way of drawing both of us into something bigger. I wonder—how many other times has He nudged me toward something I ignored? And what if I had started paying closer attention?
God’s plan is the best plan. We don’t always see how the pieces fit together, but He does. And that’s exactly what Paul is getting at in Colossians—how Christ is not just the reason for creation, but the one holding it all together.
At the heart of Colossians 1:15-29 is a truth that’s easy to affirm but harder to let sink in: Christ is everything. Not just a good teacher, not just a moral guide, not just a piece of the puzzle—He is the center, the foundation, the beginning, and the end. Everything exists because of Him and for Him. And yet, I have spent so much of my life living as if He were just a footnote in my own story.
Colossians 1:15 —“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.”
It seemed to me that people believed that Jesus was just a bridge to God, but Paul outright tells us—He is God. Not a reflection, not a representative, but God Himself, stepping into our world to show us who He is. The weight of that should be overwhelming. The very One who spoke the stars into place is the same One who walked dusty roads, looked people in the eye, and willingly took on the cross.
When I first started really reading this passage, the phrase that hit me hardest was: “in Him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:17). I don’t know about you, but life often feels more fragile than I’d like to admit. I feel the strain of responsibilities, the weight of expectations, the fear of failure. But what if the thing holding my life together isn’t my effort? What if it’s not my plans or my ability to figure it all out? What if it’s Him?
That gives me a new perspective. If Christ is holding all things together, then even in the chaos and the unknown, I am not slipping through the cracks. He is sustaining me, just as He sustains the entire universe.
Colossians 1:21-22 —“And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, He has now reconciled in His body of flesh by His death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before Him.”
This isn’t just an abstract theological concept—this is personal. I was once alienated from God. Not just distant, but actively opposed to Him, even if I didn’t realize it. My sin wasn’t just “bad behavior”; it was evidence of a heart that wanted to live life on its own terms.
I remember a time when I justified everything—my pride, my selfishness, even my so-called spirituality. You see, I believed in the interconnectedness of the universe—not as the work of a personal God, but as the natural order of things. I saw the universe as a vast, interwoven web, where everything affected everything else. But I didn’t believe in God. Not really. Not in a way that required anything of me. It all made sense to me. I told myself I was just doing my best.
But looking back, I see how often I ignored Him, how often I pushed Him to the margins. And yet, He pursued me. He didn’t wait for me to unlearn everything first. Even as I wrestled with doubts and long-held assumptions, He was already reaching for me.
I didn’t find Him—He found me. And He didn’t just bring me to belief; He brought me into something secure, something lasting. But faith isn’t something that just happens once and it’s done. Faith is something I’m called to continue in, to hold onto. Paul’s words make me pause—‘reconciled… to present you holy and blameless’ isn’t a pat on the back; it’s a shove to keep going. Am I staying grounded in the faith, holding to what I know is true about Christ?
That kind of faith—the kind that bleeds when it’s squeezed—isn’t always easy. Paul knew that firsthand. Paul doesn’t just teach these things—he lives them. He talks about his own sufferings, rejoicing in them for the sake of the church. That mindset doesn’t come naturally. I don’t love suffering. I don’t welcome hardship. But Paul saw it as participation in Christ’s mission. He is showing us that the gospel isn’t just something we receive; it’s something we give our lives to, even when it costs us.
I’ve had conversations that left me feeling misunderstood, attacked, even mocked. And yet, when I step back, I realize—this is part of it. The gospel isn’t meant to keep me comfortable—it’s meant to shape me.
Colossians 1:27 —“To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”
That’s the core of it all. Christ isn’t just reigning from afar—He is in us. The hope we have isn’t wishful thinking; it’s a certainty, rooted in Him.
Final Thought:
Before I jump into my plans, I will take a moment to say, “Lord, this day is Yours. My time, my decisions, my conversations—I want them to reflect You.”
It’s simple, but it reorients my heart. Instead of striving to control everything, I will remind myself that He holds it all together, not me. And that’s the crux—if Christ is supreme, if He holds all things together, if He is in me—then my life should reflect that. My choices, my relationships, my struggles, my purpose—they all have to align with the reality of who He is.
That’s the challenge. But it’s also the hope. He is the One doing the work. I just need to keep walking in it.
How About You?
How can you live out the truth of “Christ in you” this week?
What areas of your life are you still trying to be in control instead of trusting Him?
Let me know what you think.