My wife and I moved from Minnesota to Orlando in 2023, with the intention of planting a church in the fall of 2024. When I started telling people in Minnesota that I was moving to Florida, nearly everyone brought up the infamous internet trope: Florida Man.

If you’re unfamiliar, Google it (but limit yourself to like twelve minutes, tops). The headlines are hilarious, shocking, cringey, and often just plain weird. But beneath the humor lies something sobering: our world really is full of confusion, pain, and unpredictability.

There was one example of “Florida man” that was particularly sad and tragic, yet eerily funny and just. This was about a man in Florida who has broken into a home in Sarasota in 2016 with a baseball bat. But the married couple that lived in the home attacked the man, tackled him, wrestled the bat away from him, and beat him with his own weapon. The man escaped, but was later caught. He was beaten with his own weapon.

Well, that’s what Jesus did. Jesus became a man and defeated Satan with Satan’s own weapon: Death!

 

Nicodemus and the Gift of Honest Doubt

In John 3, Jesus interacts with Nicodemus, a brilliant religious leader sneaking through Jerusalem’s dark streets to find Jesus. He had clout, influence, and a prestigious position on the Sanhedrin council—yet he came with questions.

What strikes me most is how Jesus responded. When Nicodemus misunderstood the concept of being “born again,” Jesus didn’t mock him. He didn’t dismiss the confusion. Instead, He leaned in and offered one of the most profound explanations of salvation ever recorded.

It’s okay to wrestle with doubt. It’s okay to bring questions to Jesus. Nicodemus did, and what he received wasn’t rebuke—but revelation.

Faith isn’t the absence of doubt. It’s the decision to come closer to Jesus in the middle of it.

 

Bronze Serpents and Strange Grace

One of the stranger stories Jesus brings up with Nicodemus is the moment in Israel’s history when God used a bronze serpent to heal His people.

Here’s the backdrop: the Israelites, wandering in the desert, were bitten by poisonous snakes as a result of their rebellion. But instead of removing the danger outright, God gave them a bizarre instruction—look at a bronze snake lifted on a pole, and you’ll live.
Strange? Yes. But that moment foreshadowed something greater.

Jesus told Nicodemus, “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up” (John 3:24). Jesus was pointing ahead to the cross—where He would become the curse, the remedy, and the Redeemer all in one.

God’s healing isn’t about us having perfect faith or fixing ourselves first. It’s about looking up—trusting that His grace is sufficient in our mess, even when it makes no earthly sense.

 

Victory Through the Unthinkable

The cross wasn’t just a place of death—it was the ultimate paradox. Jesus defeated death by entering into it. He turned Satan’s best weapon into the very thing that disarmed him.

Like the bronze serpent, Jesus became the very symbol of the curse—so we could receive the cure. As Paul writes, “God made him who knew no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”

God’s love doesn’t wait for us to tidy up our lives. He enters into the chaos, the headlines, the heartbreak—and brings redemption.

 

Faith in the Fog: When Doubt Becomes the Door

If you’re walking through a season where faith feels fragile or hope feels distant, you’re not alone. And you’re not disqualified.
The first disciples didn’t always get it. The early church leaders had their fair share of missteps and questions. And yet, Jesus kept showing up. Again and again.

What if your questions are actually invitations? What if your doubts are leading you toward deeper understanding and encounter with Christ?

Jesus doesn’t shy away from our confusion. He meets us there.

 

Conclusion: Hope for Today and Every Day

Whether you’re in a season of celebration or barely holding on, the invitation remains the same: Look up.

The cross wasn’t a one-time act of mercy. The resurrection wasn’t a seasonal story. They are ongoing realities, breaking into our chaos with relentless grace.

This isn’t just for Easter Sunday. This is for Tuesday mornings, long nights, confusing headlines, and wilderness seasons.

So if your life feels like a “Florida Man” headline—messy, absurd, out of control—take heart. Jesus enters stories like that. And He turns them into testimonies.

God’s love always has the final word.

You don’t need perfect faith to encounter Jesus—just a willingness to look up. Whether you’re questioning, wounded, or wandering, the gospel is for you. Jesus, like the bronze serpent, was lifted up so that anyone—even Florida Man—could live.