Part 1 From Likes to Love Eternal: Colossians 3:1-11

When I posted my first After Pew blog entry on Facebook, my heart raced as notifications lit up my phone—ten likes, then twenty, a comment from a friend saying, ‘Thanks for taking the time to share that.’

I was thrilled. It felt like people were connecting with what God put on my heart.

But the next post had diminishing returns. Half the reactions, if that. I found myself refreshing the page for an hour, as if that would make more likes appear, only to feel the silence settle in, heavier than the excitement I’d started with.

There’s something intoxicating about that little notification bubble. Psychologists agree that social media taps into our primal need for belonging. But the high never lasts.

One post soared, the next flopped. And just like that, I found myself second-guessing everything—was I posting too much? At the wrong times? Had I worn out my welcome? It was a rollercoaster the world designed, not God.

Galatians 1:10—“For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.”

That pull toward numbers is exactly why I had to stop posting my blog on Facebook. Now, I just write, let it go out into the world, and leave the rest up to God. I want to write for His glory, not for likes. I trust that He’ll use my words in ways I may never see.

That’s the reminder I needed: to focus on Christ, not the numbers.

Paul gets this pull. In Colossians, after declaring Christ’s sufficiency, he shifts in chapter 3 to how we should live it out:

Colossians 3:1-2—“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.”

Set my mind on things above. For me, that means asking myself ‘What Would Jesus Do?’ throughout my day. I didn’t take part the first time around, but I remember how the phrase and the bracelets took hold of the zeitgeist in the ’90s. It’s a question worth reviving, not as a catchphrase, but as a real guide for aligning our hearts with God’s will.”

Setting my mind on things above also means filling my space with what lasts: Scripture and prayer. As I’ve been taught: praying is my time to talk to God and reading the Bible is my time for Him to talk to me.

This morning, instead of reaching for my phone I reached for my pocket Bible and read James Chapter 4: ‘Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.’ No metrics, just truth.

As I was loading the dishwasher, I hummed to myself ‘Here I Am to Worship’, doing as Colossians 3:16 says, ‘singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.’

Even silence works: ten minutes with no screen, just breathing, asking God to renew me. These aren’t fixes; they’re rhythms. They remind me my blog isn’t my life—Christ is.

I imagine Paul writing Colossians from prison, yet free in Christ. If he could let go of earthly approval under that pressure, then I can strive to do the same.

Colossians 3:5—“Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry.”

Chasing validation was idolatry—putting numbers above God. They weren’t just bad habits to manage; they are remnants of a life I no longer live. When I place something above God, I sin.

Paul reminds us to actively reject these things and replace them with love for Christ.

Pastor John’s weekly reflection was an excellent reminder: what I dwell in shapes me. When we steep ourselves in Christ—His purpose, His peace—feelings like frustration or self-doubt lose their bite.

Final Thought:

I don’t need a notification bubble to tell me I’m enough if I let the word of Christ dwell within me richly. Numbers rise and fall, but His truth stands unshaken.

Starting my day off with a Psalm rather than my phone renews me. Filling my mind with Scripture instead of screens anchors me in something eternal.

The world is loud, and it’s easy to drift—one scroll, one refresh, one fleeting dopamine hit at a time. But what if I tuned out the noise?

What’s one way I could turn it down today?

By setting my mind on things above. By choosing worship over worry. By chasing Christ, not approval.

His peace is waiting.

He’s my life—not the metrics I chase.