Acts 23

Paul was in Roman custody. The night after his appearance before the Sanhedrin, Jesus spoke to him with two things: courage, and a destination. Rome.

Paul didn’t know how he was getting to Rome. He just knew he was.

What follows is a conspiracy to kill him, a nephew who overhears it and reports it, a transfer under military escort to Caesarea, and two years in prison before he gets anywhere near Rome. The path to the promise was long, confusing, and would have looked like it was going nowhere for most of it.

But Paul had a word. And he held it.

I’ve needed a word like that in long seasons. Not a full plan. Just a direction. Something God said clearly enough that I could hold it when the circumstances stopped making sense. The promise doesn’t make the waiting easy. But it makes it navigable. It gives you something to return to when the current moment looks nothing like where you’re headed.