August 24th, 2026
by Stacy Long
by Stacy Long
Are You Living Like God Is Actually There?
There is a phrase that has quietly described the spiritual lives of many believers for a long time, and most of us have never heard it. The phrase is "functional deism," and its definition is both simple and unsettling: the practice of living as though God does not intervene in daily life, even while professing a belief in an active God.
Read that again slowly.
It is not about whether you believe in God. It is not about whether you attend church, read your Bible, or pray. It is about the gap between what you say you believe and how you actually live from Monday to Saturday. It is possible to confess with your mouth that God speaks, leads, and moves -- and then go home and figure everything out on your own. It is possible to believe in a God who is alive and active while functionally treating him like he retired sometime around the first century.
The hard question is this: which kind of believer are you?
The Throne Room Problem
Consider how most of us approach prayer. We bring our lists. We bring our problems. We bring our requests, our worries, and our needs. We walk into the throne room, drop off our petitions, and walk back out. And there is nothing wrong with bringing our needs to God -- he invites us to do exactly that.
But what if there is already a conversation underway when we arrive? What if there is a work already in motion, a plan already unfolding, and our petition was meant to fit inside of that plan rather than stand apart from it? What if we are so busy talking that we never stop to listen to what God is already doing?
This reframes prayer entirely. Prayer is not a transaction where we submit a request and wait for processing. It is an invitation into a conversation that God has already started. The question is not just whether we are praying, but whether we are actually listening when we do.
The Endorsement Trap
Here is perhaps the most convicting form of functional deism, and it is one that many of us will recognize immediately: making a decision first and then asking God to bless it afterward.
We plan the career move, choose the relationship, commit to the purchase, or set the direction -- and then we pray about it. Not to seek counsel. Not to ask whether this is the path God has already prepared. But to seek endorsement. To get a spiritual stamp of approval on something we have already decided we want.
This is not seeking the king. This is using the king. And if we are honest, most of us have done it more times than we would like to admit.
The alternative is not passive or fearful. It is actually far more adventurous. It means coming before a decision is made, sitting with God in the uncertainty, and genuinely asking what he is already doing and how our lives might align with that. It means trusting that his plan is not only better than ours but that he actually wants to share it with us.
Kids in the Kingdom
Picture a kingdom from one of those sweeping historical films -- stone walls, royal courts, a king who rules the land. Now picture the children who grow up inside that kingdom. Some of them enjoy every benefit the kingdom offers. They eat well, live comfortably, and take full advantage of their access to the king's resources. But they never actually seek the king. They never ask what he is doing or why. They never sit with him and learn how he thinks. They simply enjoy the life his kingdom provides.
Others make a different choice. They humble themselves. They lay down their own agendas and their own entertainment. They go looking for the king -- not to ask him for something, but to know him. To watch him work. To understand what he is building and to ask how they might be part of it.
Both groups live in the same kingdom. Both have access to the same king. But only one of them is actually becoming like him.
The invitation in Scripture is not merely to receive the benefits of belonging to God. It is to be transformed into people who think like him, move like him, and partner with him in what he is already doing in the world. That transformation does not happen in the figure-it-out room. It happens in his presence.
Beyond WWJD
Many believers will remember the cultural moment when "What Would Jesus Do?" appeared on bracelets, t-shirts, and bumper stickers everywhere. And while the sentiment behind it was genuine, there is something the question quietly reveals about the state of our spiritual lives: if we are asking what Jesus would do, it means we are guessing. It means we are not actually being led.
Jesus himself did not live that way. He did not consult a bracelet or reason through his best approximation of what his Father might prefer. He lived in such close communion with the Father that he saw what the Father was already doing -- and then he did it alongside him. He thought with God, not just about God. His Father was not a distant reference point. He was the practical, everyday king of his life.
This is the life Jesus modeled, and the life he promised was available to his followers. In John 16, he described the Spirit as one who would guide his people into truth. In John 10, he said his sheep hear his voice and follow him. This was not poetry. It was a description of how life with God is actually meant to work.
The Invitation
The call is not to try harder to be good. It is not to make better guesses about what Jesus would do. It is to welcome the king -- not just into a Sunday gathering, but into every room of your daily life. Into the decisions you are facing this week. Into the conversations you are dreading. Into the plans you are making.
Let him be king of your heart, not just king of your beliefs.
The door is open. He is already knocking.
(This blog was created from Stacy Long's original sermon using pulpit.ai)
There is a phrase that has quietly described the spiritual lives of many believers for a long time, and most of us have never heard it. The phrase is "functional deism," and its definition is both simple and unsettling: the practice of living as though God does not intervene in daily life, even while professing a belief in an active God.
Read that again slowly.
It is not about whether you believe in God. It is not about whether you attend church, read your Bible, or pray. It is about the gap between what you say you believe and how you actually live from Monday to Saturday. It is possible to confess with your mouth that God speaks, leads, and moves -- and then go home and figure everything out on your own. It is possible to believe in a God who is alive and active while functionally treating him like he retired sometime around the first century.
The hard question is this: which kind of believer are you?
The Throne Room Problem
Consider how most of us approach prayer. We bring our lists. We bring our problems. We bring our requests, our worries, and our needs. We walk into the throne room, drop off our petitions, and walk back out. And there is nothing wrong with bringing our needs to God -- he invites us to do exactly that.
But what if there is already a conversation underway when we arrive? What if there is a work already in motion, a plan already unfolding, and our petition was meant to fit inside of that plan rather than stand apart from it? What if we are so busy talking that we never stop to listen to what God is already doing?
This reframes prayer entirely. Prayer is not a transaction where we submit a request and wait for processing. It is an invitation into a conversation that God has already started. The question is not just whether we are praying, but whether we are actually listening when we do.
The Endorsement Trap
Here is perhaps the most convicting form of functional deism, and it is one that many of us will recognize immediately: making a decision first and then asking God to bless it afterward.
We plan the career move, choose the relationship, commit to the purchase, or set the direction -- and then we pray about it. Not to seek counsel. Not to ask whether this is the path God has already prepared. But to seek endorsement. To get a spiritual stamp of approval on something we have already decided we want.
This is not seeking the king. This is using the king. And if we are honest, most of us have done it more times than we would like to admit.
The alternative is not passive or fearful. It is actually far more adventurous. It means coming before a decision is made, sitting with God in the uncertainty, and genuinely asking what he is already doing and how our lives might align with that. It means trusting that his plan is not only better than ours but that he actually wants to share it with us.
Kids in the Kingdom
Picture a kingdom from one of those sweeping historical films -- stone walls, royal courts, a king who rules the land. Now picture the children who grow up inside that kingdom. Some of them enjoy every benefit the kingdom offers. They eat well, live comfortably, and take full advantage of their access to the king's resources. But they never actually seek the king. They never ask what he is doing or why. They never sit with him and learn how he thinks. They simply enjoy the life his kingdom provides.
Others make a different choice. They humble themselves. They lay down their own agendas and their own entertainment. They go looking for the king -- not to ask him for something, but to know him. To watch him work. To understand what he is building and to ask how they might be part of it.
Both groups live in the same kingdom. Both have access to the same king. But only one of them is actually becoming like him.
The invitation in Scripture is not merely to receive the benefits of belonging to God. It is to be transformed into people who think like him, move like him, and partner with him in what he is already doing in the world. That transformation does not happen in the figure-it-out room. It happens in his presence.
Beyond WWJD
Many believers will remember the cultural moment when "What Would Jesus Do?" appeared on bracelets, t-shirts, and bumper stickers everywhere. And while the sentiment behind it was genuine, there is something the question quietly reveals about the state of our spiritual lives: if we are asking what Jesus would do, it means we are guessing. It means we are not actually being led.
Jesus himself did not live that way. He did not consult a bracelet or reason through his best approximation of what his Father might prefer. He lived in such close communion with the Father that he saw what the Father was already doing -- and then he did it alongside him. He thought with God, not just about God. His Father was not a distant reference point. He was the practical, everyday king of his life.
This is the life Jesus modeled, and the life he promised was available to his followers. In John 16, he described the Spirit as one who would guide his people into truth. In John 10, he said his sheep hear his voice and follow him. This was not poetry. It was a description of how life with God is actually meant to work.
The Invitation
The call is not to try harder to be good. It is not to make better guesses about what Jesus would do. It is to welcome the king -- not just into a Sunday gathering, but into every room of your daily life. Into the decisions you are facing this week. Into the conversations you are dreading. Into the plans you are making.
Let him be king of your heart, not just king of your beliefs.
The door is open. He is already knocking.
(This blog was created from Stacy Long's original sermon using pulpit.ai)
Recent
Archive
2026
May
2025
August
Categories
no categories
Tags
no tags
No Comments