We’ve all heard the phrase before—Get a life. Usually it’s sarcastic, maybe a little biting. But what if it’s actually worth taking seriously? Not as an insult, but as a real question. What kind of life are you chasing? What are you living for?

In Philippians 1:12–30, Paul writes from prison, chained up but more alive than ever. His circumstances are rough, but his clarity is razor sharp. His life is all about Jesus—whether he’s free or locked up, thriving or suffering. “For to me, living means living for Christ, and dying is even better” (v. 21). That’s not poetic flair. That’s a man who knows exactly who he is and what he’s about.

He’s not wondering why things are hard—he’s asking what God is doing in the midst of it. That shift in perspective changes everything. Rather than trying to escape the current, Paul learns how to move with it. It’s like a river—sometimes calm, sometimes wild, often unclear where it’s heading—but always flowing from Jesus. And Jesus isn’t just in the river; He is the river. He’s the shore, the air, the steady ground beneath our feet.

We live amphibious lives—sometimes in the water of the Spirit, sometimes crawling onto the dry land of daily routines, sometimes floating in between. But our true citizenship? It’s not just in a country or a cause. It’s in heaven. Paul uses the word politeuomai—to conduct yourself as someone pledged to a certain way of life. That means how we live, speak, serve, suffer, and hope all flows from the life of Jesus in us.

So… what is your doctrine of life? Who or what has your allegiance? Are you swept up in the world’s drama or anchored in the peace of Christ? Paul had every reason to cash in on his political rights, but he saw them as loss compared to knowing Jesus. He wasn’t loyal to Rome or driven by religious titles—he was living from a different kingdom entirely.

Deliverance, in Paul’s world, didn’t mean escape. It meant being preserved—not necessarily from suffering, but from staying stuck. True deliverance is walking in the freedom of being loved, seen, and sent by Jesus—right where you are.

And here’s the beautiful part: this kind of life is available to you. Not just for Paul. Not just for the early church. Right now, in your real life—with its mess, questions, busyness, and longings—you can ask:

• What are You doing, God?
• How are You shaping me?
• What are You highlighting?
• What does it mean to live in You today?

Jesus isn’t standing off to the side waiting for us to figure it all out. He’s flowing right through the middle of our lives, inviting us to stop striving and start abiding. Not just surviving, but truly living—in Him.

So go ahead—get a life. One rooted in Jesus. One that flows with His grace and stays steady even when the river bends out of sight. One that invites others to see Him through you.

That’s a life worth living.