Taking Ground | Week 7
Day 1
“This is the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah the son of David, the son of Abraham.” -Matthew 1:1
The New Testament opens in an unexpected way. Not with a miracle. Not with an angelic announcement. Not even with the birth of Christ. It opens with a genealogy.
Names. Generations. Fathers and sons. A family line stretching from Abraham to David to Jesus.
God chose to tell the story of redemption through a family.
That detail matters, especially in a culture increasingly focused on appearances. In many communities today, there is intense pressure for families to present well. Clean homes. Coordinated outfits. Smiling children. Successful careers. The unspoken competition is subtle but powerful. The temptation is not necessarily to become godly, but to look put together.
Yet many families that appear strong on the outside are quietly struggling on the inside.
Few areas of life are more difficult to “get right” than family.
In recovery settings and counseling rooms, a common phrase surfaces again and again: “My dad was…” Those three words often carry decades of weight.
“My dad was distant.”
“My dad was angry.”
“My dad was never there.”
Family leaves marks. Some wounds linger for decades. Some blessings echo across generations.
This is not accidental. God designed family to shape identity.
Romans 8 teaches that believers receive the Spirit of adoption and cry out, “Abba, Father.” Salvation itself is described in family language. John 3:16 speaks of the “only begotten Son.” Jesus instructs His followers to pray, “Our Father.”
The Bible is not simply a book about private spirituality. It is a story about households, generations, and covenant relationships.
Because family reflects His heart, God speaks seriously about it. Ephesians 6:1–2 commands children to honor their parents. First Timothy 5:8 warns that neglecting one’s household is a denial of the faith. Scripture does not treat family life as secondary to spiritual life, it weaves them together.
Why such weight?
Because thriving families protect people from becoming successful at the wrong things.
It is possible to become a hero at work and a stranger at home. It is possible to gain professional respect while losing relational intimacy. It is possible to build wealth and neglect worship.
The health of a family may be one of the clearest indicators of spiritual maturity. Not perfection, but direction. Not image, but integrity.
When God commissioned Joshua to lead Israel, He did not instruct him to manage perception. Joshua 1:8–9 makes the priority clear: meditate on God’s Word day and night, observe it carefully, and be strong and courageous. Prosperity would flow from obedience, not appearance.
The world says, “Look impressive.”
God says, “Be faithful.”
Scripture is honest about family brokenness. Abraham lied. Jacob deceived. David failed morally and relationally. Yet God continued His redemptive work through imperfect households.
That truth offers hope.
Taking ground in a family does not begin with achieving perfection. It begins with surrender. It begins with choosing faithfulness over image, obedience over applause, character over comparison.
The most important question is not, “How does this family look?”
The deeper question is, “Who is this family becoming?”
God is far less concerned with a highlight reel than with holiness. He is shaping hearts, forming character, and building generational faithfulness.
Families that surrender to that process, however imperfectly, begin to take real ground.
Not ground measured by public perception, but ground measured by spiritual depth, relational health, and obedience to God.
And surrendered families, even flawed ones, become places where redemption continues to unfold, just as it did through generations long ago.
