At a Friday evening gathering, the pastor quoted a familiar verse: “The joy of the Lord is our strength.” Yet that night, those words carried new weight in my heart. If God’s joy is truly the source of my strength, then what kind of life should I live to please Him?

The answer is found in Romans 12: “present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God.” Paul also urges us not to conform to this world, but to be transformed by the renewing of our minds. What touched me deeply was that he said, “I urge you, in view of God’s mercy.” This is not a legalistic demand, but a loving invitation. Because God first loved us, He calls us to respond with our whole lives.

I asked myself honestly: Do I truly believe this? Am I really willing to obey? Scripture is clear—we cannot love God and love the world at the same time. Anyone who loves the Lord should be willing, for love’s sake, to live a Nazarite life, set apart to Him. So I began examining my life in practical ways. I looked at my bank account. Are my expenses mostly for temporary pleasures, or invested in God’s kingdom and things of eternal value? Have I truly passed the test of tithing, or do I still love money more than the Lord? When money is in our hands, we often hesitate to release it. When we speak of building the Bethel Hall, I think of the saying, “Those before us planted trees so we could enjoy the shade.” I can gather in a stable and comfortable place of worship today because others paid the price. Now it is my turn. Am I willing to “plant trees” for the future, so that there may be a sanctuary to hold a thousand people? Do I merely participate a little, or do I treat God’s house as my own and take part honorably in its building?

I also examined my calendar. Does my time revolve around worldly concerns, or do I set apart my best hours for God—to read His Word, pray, and draw near to Him? What God cares about most is our relationship with Him and whether our lives remain connected to Him. There is only one way to live such a life: the branch must abide in the vine. When I truly abide in Christ, choices of separation from the world are no longer forced, but become a natural response of love. The reality is simple: if God does not gain me, the world will.

This year, I have chosen to rearrange my priorities to align more closely with God’s heart. I practice beginning each day by reminding myself to spend time on what pleases Him. Every day we make small but real choices—who receives our money, our time, our heart. Over time, these choices determine whether we belong to God or are slowly consumed by the world.

This is not a question of “Can I?” but “Am I willing to give myself again in response to God’s invitation?” I believe that when God gains me, His joy truly becomes my strength. May each of us not be stuck to the world, but rise up again—gained by God and becoming those who bring joy to His heart.