Pastor Tricia's Ramblings

Philippians 3:3, 10–14

There are mornings when I wake up with the best of intentions—time in the Word, prayer, journaling, all the things I know help me draw close to God. And yet, by the time my feet hit the floor, distractions rush in. Responsibilities pile up, emotions press hard, and before I know it, I feel like I’ve fallen short again.

Do you ever feel that way?

I don’t mean that you’ve lost faith or abandoned God. I mean that ache inside that says, “I long to know God, I really do. But why does it seem like I keep missing the mark?”

That word know is important here. In Philippians 3, Paul talks about knowing Christ—not just knowing about Him, but knowing Him in the deepest, most intimate way possible. The kind of knowledge that changes you. The kind that reshapes your priorities, your habits, your desires, and even your willingness to suffer.

Paul lays it out like this:

“That I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.” (Phil. 3:10–12, ESV)

Those verses cut right through me.

Because Paul’s desire wasn’t casual. He wasn’t saying, “I’d like to know Jesus a little better, if it’s convenient.” He was saying, “I want to know Him so fully that I share in His suffering, become like Him in His death, and experience the power of His resurrection.”

That’s not surface-level faith. That’s all in.

Knowing Christ Means Change

You cannot know Jesus and stay the same.

I think about that every time I reflect on my own journey. I’ve known Jesus for years. I’ve taught His Word, served His people, and sought His presence. But every time I go deeper, He reveals another layer in me that needs to be surrendered. Knowing Him always changes me, because intimacy with Christ is never static.

It’s like a friendship. You can have acquaintances you wave at across the street, and then you can have those heart-level friends who know your struggles, your joys, and your quirks. Which one do you think changes you more? The closer the relationship, the more it shapes who you are.

Paul understood this. He wasn’t content with a surface-level relationship. He didn’t just want to celebrate Christ’s victories; he wanted to participate in the fullness of His life, His death, and His resurrection.

Letting Go of What Was

One of the most powerful lines in Philippians 3 is verse 13:

“Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal…”

We usually think of forgetting the past as letting go of the bad things—failures, sins, regrets. And yes, that’s part of it. But Paul was also letting go of his successes. His religious accomplishments, his spiritual pedigree, his victories—he counted them all as loss compared to knowing Christ.

That challenges me. Because sometimes I live in the past in subtle ways.

For instance, there have been seasons where I’ve replayed mistakes over and over in my head. Words I wish I hadn’t spoken. Opportunities I wish I had taken. Times when I felt like I let people down. Those thoughts can haunt me and weigh me down if I don’t release them to God.

On the other side, there have been times when I’ve leaned on yesterday’s victories. Maybe I had a season of spiritual discipline where I was in the Word faithfully and serving actively. Or maybe I had a ministry “win” that made me feel confident. And without realizing it, I started living off of what was instead of pressing into what God was doing now.

Both patterns hold me back. Looking back—whether at failures or successes—keeps me from moving forward. You can’t fix your eyes on Jesus and keep glancing in the rearview mirror at the same time.

The Single-Minded Pursuit

What I love about Paul’s words here is his focus. He’s not chasing results. He’s not obsessed with measuring his success. His obsession is Christ alone.

This hits home for me because I can get caught up in my own efforts. I’ve had days where I measured my “success” as a Christian by how much I got done—did I pray long enough, read enough chapters, encourage enough people? And if I fell short, discouragement crept in.

Other times, I’ve been distracted by people’s opinions—worrying about whether I was doing enough or if I was meeting expectations. That focus on results and comparison always leaves me feeling drained.

Paul takes a different approach. He says, “Not that I have already obtained all this… but I press on.”

He’s honest about not having arrived. But he doesn’t let that paralyze him. He confesses, accepts grace, and keeps moving. He presses on—not because he’s strong, but because Christ has already made him His own.

That changes everything. Pressing on isn’t about earning God’s love; it’s about responding to it.

Sharing in His Power, Sharing in His Suffering

Paul connects two realities we often want to separate: power and suffering.

We long for resurrection power. We want to see God’s Spirit at work in us—bringing healing, hope, transformation, boldness. But Paul reminds us that sharing in His power means also sharing in His suffering.

I think about times in my life when things didn’t go the way I wanted—health struggles, broken relationships, seasons of waiting. None of those were easy. And yet, those were the very seasons where I felt Christ closest. His Spirit met me in my weakness, His Word came alive in my pain, and His power carried me when my strength was gone.

That’s not punishment. That’s intimacy.

When you share in someone’s suffering, you enter into their most vulnerable, real experiences. You carry their burdens with them. You identify with them on a deep level. That’s what Jesus invites us into. He doesn’t just let us stand on the sidelines and watch Him suffer. He draws us into His life, His mission, His cross.

And here’s the paradox: in that place of suffering with Him, we also experience His resurrection power. The very Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead is alive in us.

Falling Short, Getting Back Up

Let me be real: I fall short. A lot.

There are days when I set aside time to pray and somehow never make it past the first five distracted minutes. There are moments when fear gets the better of me, and I keep quiet when I know I should speak truth. There are days I let busyness crowd out intimacy with Christ.

But here’s what I’ve learned: falling isn’t final.

Paul says, “I press on.” Not, “I press perfectly.” Not, “I never stumble.” He just keeps pressing forward. And that’s our call too.

No matter how many times you fall, you can get back up. Confess it to God, receive His forgiveness, and reset your focus. Eyes forward. Eyes on Jesus.

Because here’s the truth: you can’t look back and forward at the same time. If your gaze is fixed on Christ, you’re not stuck staring at your failures. You’re not chained to your past. You’re not distracted by your trophies. You’re free to run the race set before you.

The Joy of Obsession with Christ

When Christ becomes your obsession, everything else fades.

That doesn’t mean life gets easy. It means life gets focused. Circumstances lose their power to define you. People-pleasing loses its grip. Your past doesn’t hold you captive. Your achievements don’t make you complacent.

Why? Because knowing Christ becomes your everything.

I’ve had moments—usually small, quiet ones—where I’ve experienced this. Sitting with my Bible in hand and coffee growing cold beside me, feeling like the world could wait because Jesus was speaking to my heart. Or praying for a friend and sensing God’s Spirit giving words I knew didn’t come from me. Those moments remind me that intimacy with Christ is worth every sacrifice, because He is the joy that outshines it all.

Bringing It Home

So let me ask you: what’s holding you back from pressing forward?

• Are you chained to your past mistakes?
• Are you clinging to past victories?
• Are you focused more on your own efforts than on Christ’s power?

Paul’s words invite us to let go. To release what was, and press into what is. To fix our eyes on Jesus and keep taking the next right step.

That step may look small. It may feel ordinary. But when your eyes are on Christ, every step forward is significant.

Friend, you don’t have to have it all together. You don’t have to feel like you’ve arrived. You just have to keep pressing on.

Christ has already made you His own. Now, press forward into Him.

---

A Prayer

Lord, I confess that I often get stuck looking back—at my failures, my regrets, and even my victories. Forgive me for the times I’ve tried to measure my devotion by my own effort instead of Your grace. Today, I choose to fix my eyes on You. Help me to know You more deeply—to share in Your power and even in Your suffering—so that I might be changed to look more like You. Give me strength to press on, one step at a time, until I see You face to face. Amen