Friday Deep Dive - Week 2
I didn’t want to open my Bible this morning.
There, I said it. I’m writing a devotional about staying in God’s Word, and I’m starting by admitting that some mornings, the last thing I want to do is crack open Scripture. Not because I don’t love God. Not because I don’t believe it matters. But because I’m tired. Because the fight feels long. Because I’ve got friends texting me about their struggles, and honestly, I’m wondering if I have enough spiritual gas in the tank to even encourage myself, let alone anyone else.
Maybe you know that feeling. You wake up and the world feels heavy. The news is bad. The bills are real. The marriage is hard. The Kids are struggling. Work is draining. And the idea of “staying in the Word” feels less like a privilege and more like another item on an impossible to-do list.
But here’s what I’ve learned in those moments: the lack of motivation isn’t the problem. It’s actually the invitation.
Let me explain.
Why This Passage Matters Now
We live in a culture obsessed with motivation. We’re told to “find our why,” to “stay hungry,” to “hustle harder.” Social media feeds us a constant stream of people who seem to have it all together—perfect families, thriving businesses, abundant energy, unshakeable faith.
And when we don’t feel that fire, when we wake up tired and unmotivated, we assume something is wrong with us. We think we’re failing. We believe the lie that if we were really good Christians, we’d always feel excited about prayer and Bible reading.
But the Christian life was never meant to be fueled by our feelings. It was meant to be sustained by something—someone—far greater.
The writer of Hebrews knew this. He was writing to people who were exhausted. People who had endured persecution, loss, and discouragement. People who were tempted to give up. And instead of giving them a motivational pep talk, he pointed them to Jesus.
This passage is for those mornings when you don’t want to get up. When the Bible feels dry. When prayer feels pointless. When you’re not sure you have what it takes to keep going.
Let’s dig in.
The Passage: Hebrews 12:1-3 (NIV)
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.”
Breaking It Down: Verse by Verse
Verse 1a: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses”
The “therefore” points us back to Hebrews 11—the hall of faith. Abraham, Moses, Rahab, David, and countless others who lived by faith even when it was costly. They didn’t always feel motivated. They didn’t have it all figured out. But they kept going.
The image is powerful: we’re not running this race alone. We’re surrounded by those who’ve gone before us, who finished their race, who proved that God is faithful even when we are weak.
When you feel isolated in your struggle, remember: you’re part of a legacy. You’re not the first person to wake up tired. You’re not the first to question if you can keep going. And everyone who finished before you did so by the same grace you have access to today.
Verse 1b: “Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles”
Notice the writer doesn’t say “try harder” or “be more motivated.” He says: get rid of what’s weighing you down.
There are two categories here:
Things that hinder - not necessarily sinful, but they slow us down. Maybe it’s the endless scroll through social media. The Netflix binge that keeps us up too late. The overcommitment to good things that leaves no margin for the best things. These aren’t evil, but they’re weights.
The sin that so easily entangles - this is the stuff that trips us up personally. For some, it’s bitterness. For others, it’s lust. For many, it’s the pride that says, “I should be able to do this on my own.”
Here’s the thing about entanglement: you can’t run a race with ropes wrapped around your legs. And you can’t fight spiritual fatigue while dragging spiritual baggage. Sometimes the lack of motivation isn’t a character flaw—it’s the natural result of trying to run while carrying too much.
What do you need to throw off? What’s hindering you? What sin keeps tripping you up?
Verse 1c: “And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us”
This is the heart of it. The Christian life is not a sprint; it’s a marathon. It’s not about explosive motivation; it’s about steady perseverance.
The Greek word for perseverance here is hypomonē—it means patient endurance, steadfastness, the ability to remain under pressure without collapsing. It’s not glamorous. It’s not exciting. It’s just faithful.
And notice: it’s the race “marked out for us.” Not someone else’s race. Not the race you see on Instagram. Not the race you think you should be running. Your race. The one God has specifically designed for you, with your exact challenges, your exact calling, your exact circumstances.
You’re not failing because your race looks different from someone else’s. You’re right where you’re supposed to be.
Verse 2a: “Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith”
Here’s the game-changer. We don’t run by looking at ourselves—measuring our performance, obsessing over our motivation levels, comparing our progress. We run by fixing our eyes on Jesus.
Pioneer - He went first. He blazed the trail. He knows what it’s like to be human, to be tired, to be tempted. He’s not asking you to do something He hasn’t already done.
Perfecter - He doesn’t just start our faith; He completes it. He’s not watching from a distance, judging our performance. He’s actively working to bring us across the finish line. Your perseverance isn’t ultimately about your willpower—it’s about His faithfulness.
When you feel like you can’t keep going, look at Jesus. Not at your feelings. Not at your failures. Not at how far you still have to go. Look at Him.
Verse 2b: “For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame”
Jesus had something we often forget: a clear view of the finish line. He endured the cross—the worst suffering imaginable—not because He felt like it, not because He was motivated by pain, but because He saw the joy on the other side.
What was that joy? You. Me. The restoration of all things. The defeat of sin and death. The reconciliation of humanity to God.
He scorned the shame. He didn’t let the humiliation define the moment. He looked past it to what it would accomplish.
This is the secret to endurance: knowing where you’re headed matters more than how you feel right now. The cross wasn’t the end of the story. Friday wasn’t the last word. Sunday was coming.
When you feel weary, remember: this isn’t the end of your story either.
Verse 3: “Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart”
The writer gives us the antidote to weariness: consider Jesus. Think about Him. Meditate on Him. Fix your attention on what He endured.
If Jesus—the Son of God, perfect and sinless—faced opposition, exhaustion, and suffering, why do we think we should be exempt? He didn’t coast through life on constant spiritual highs. He wept in the garden. He sweat drops of blood. He cried out from the cross.
But He didn’t quit. He didn’t lose heart. He endured.
And because He did, we can too. Not in our own strength, but in His.
Our Calling: What This Means for Us
So what do we do when the fight feels hard? When we wake up and don’t feel motivated to pray, to read Scripture, to keep pressing on?
Here’s the truth: motivation is not the foundation of the Christian life. Jesus is.
Motivation comes and goes. Feelings fluctuate. Circumstances change. But Jesus remains. And the race isn’t about how we feel—it’s about who we’re following.
Practically, here’s what this looks like:
Show up anyway. You don’t have to feel like praying to pray. You don’t have to feel excited about Scripture to open it. Some of my most significant moments with God have come on mornings when I didn’t want to be there. But I showed up. And He met me. Discipline isn’t the enemy of faith—it’s the delivery system. Motivation gets you started; discipline keeps you going.
Throw off the weights. What’s draining you? What’s stealing your energy? What’s cluttering your life and leaving no space for God? Be ruthless about cutting it out. Not because you’re trying to earn God’s favor, but because you can’t run well while carrying unnecessary baggage.
Fix your eyes on Jesus, not your feelings. Stop asking, “Do I feel motivated?” Start asking, “What is true about Jesus today?” He is faithful. He is present. He is working. He is enough. Those truths don’t change based on how you feel when you wake up.
Remember the cloud of witnesses. You’re not the first person to feel this way. Every saint who’s gone before you had days—maybe years—when the fight felt hard. But they kept going. Not because they were superhuman, but because they served a super-God. And so do you.
Focus on the finish line. This struggle is temporary. This weariness won’t last forever. And one day, you’ll stand before Jesus and realize it was all worth it. Every hard morning. Every tear-stained prayer. Every moment you chose obedience over comfort. The joy set before you is real. And it’s coming.
A Word to the Weary
If you’re reading this and you’re exhausted, I want you to hear this clearly: your weariness does not disqualify you.
You are not a bad Christian because you don’t feel motivated. You’re not failing because the race feels long. You’re not disqualified because you’re tired.
You’re human. And God knows that. He’s not surprised by your fatigue. He’s not disappointed in your lack of enthusiasm. He’s not waiting for you to muster up enough energy to impress Him.
He’s inviting you to rest in Him while you run. To let Him carry the weight of your inadequacy. To fix your eyes on the One who finished His race so that you could finish yours.
The fight feels hard because it is hard. But you’re not alone. And you’re not abandoned. And the finish line is real.
So today, if you don’t feel like opening your Bible—open it anyway. If you don’t feel like praying—pray anyway. If you don’t feel like you can take another step—take it anyway.
Not in your strength. In His.
And watch what He does with your simple obedience.
Prayer
Father,
I’m tired. You know I’m tired. Some days I don’t feel like I have what it takes to keep going. The fight feels long, and I feel weak.
Thank You that my weakness doesn’t surprise You. Thank You that You don’t require me to be strong in myself. Thank You that the race is not about my motivation, but about Your faithfulness.
Help me to throw off the things that are weighing me down—the distractions, the sin, the burdens I was never meant to carry. Give me the courage to be ruthless about what I allow into my life.
Help me to fix my eyes on Jesus. When I’m tempted to look at my circumstances, at my feelings, at my failures, turn my gaze to Him. Let me see His endurance, His love, His finished work on the cross.
Remind me that I’m surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses—people who walked this same hard road, who felt this same weariness, who proved that You are faithful to the end.
Give me the grace to show up today, even when I don’t feel like it. To open Your Word even when it feels dry. To pray even when it feels pointless. To take one more step even when I’m exhausted.
You ran Your race all the way to the cross and beyond. You endured what I could never endure. You finished what I could never finish. And now You’re running with me, perfecting my faith, carrying me when I can’t carry myself.
I don’t have to do this in my own strength. Thank You for that.
Help me keep my eyes on the finish line—the joy, the restoration, the day when I see You face to face and realize it was all worth it.
Until then, sustain me. Carry me. Don’t let me grow weary and lose heart.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
Discussion Questions:
- What “weights” do you need to throw off that are hindering your race right now?
- How does fixing your eyes on Jesus (rather than your circumstances or feelings) change the way you approach difficult days?
- When have you experienced God’s faithfulness in a season when you had no motivation, but you showed up anyway?
Stay anchored.
humble