(Read Ephesians 1)
True North is the direction of the North Pole from any point on earth. Unlike magnetic north, which shifts over time, it’s a fixed reference point that helps travelers orient themselves when the landscape is unfamiliar, the weather changes, or the route gets complicated. I find myself using the phrase “true north” more often than I ever expected—not just for navigation, but as a way to check my own life. Am I still on course? Am I drifting? Am I following what is right, or merely what is easy?
Not long ago, I met someone who reminded me what steady direction looks like. It’s funny—I wasn’t entirely sure of his particular faith, but with some people you can just tell. (J) is extremely articulate, genuine, and patient… not to mention a 300-score bowler! His patience probably comes in part from being an educator. But beyond professional calm, there was something deeper: a groundedness, a kindness that didn’t feel forced, and a steadiness that wasn’t shaken by small frustrations. He made me think about the kind of person I’m becoming—and about the compass I’m using to get there.
Many of us were introduced to God’s guidance through verses that became familiar and comforting, like this one:
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11
After a lot of reading, I’ve learned that Jeremiah 29:11 was spoken as God’s good news about Israel’s future in a specific historical context, not a one-size-fits-all personal promise for every individual circumstance. But honestly, that discovery doesn’t take away the underlying truth that drew me to it in the first place: God is not random. God is not careless. God is not absent. God works with purpose, and He is capable of giving hope in the middle of circumstances that feel anything but hopeful.
If you’ve ever tried to travel without a reliable point of reference, you know how quickly you can become disoriented. The same is true spiritually. When life is turbulent, when regrets echo louder than joy, when your emotions change daily, you need something steadier than feelings. You need an anchor. You need a true north.
Why is it important to live by God’s True North principles? Navigating life is complicated enough as it is. Having whimsical sources dictating our direction—opinions, moods, trends, or even our own impulses—will never get us where we truly need to be. But when we use God’s GPS, we’re no longer guessing at the destination. We are being guided toward the place He intends for us to arrive.
So how do we access His compass? By reading, meditating on, and learning His Word. That doesn’t mean we won’t veer off course—we all do. But when we keep returning to His direction, we’re reminded of what is true, what is steady, and where life is actually found. Following His course doesn’t eliminate every detour, but it does ensure we’re not wandering aimlessly. It leads us where He wants us to be.
That’s why Paul’s words in Ephesians 1 are such a gift. Before Paul tells us what to do, he tells us what God has done. Before he lists any instructions, he gives us identity. Before he calls us to obedience, he calls us to worship. Ephesians 1 is like standing at the edge of the ocean and realizing the horizon doesn’t stop where your eyesight ends. God’s grace stretches farther than we imagined.
Paul begins with praise: God has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing. He speaks of being chosen, adopted, and sealed—words that don’t depend on your performance, your track record, or your ability to “get it together.” He describes salvation as something initiated by God, accomplished by God, and applied to us by God. And right in the middle of it, like a bright pin on the map, is this:
“In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace.”
Ephesians 1:7
Redemption is available to all of us.
That word redemption carries weight. It speaks of a price paid, of freedom purchased, of something reclaimed that could not reclaim itself. Paul ties it directly to the payment Jesus made: “through his blood.” He is pointing to Christ’s death on the cross as the sufficient payment for sin—for all who believe. Only Christ’s blood can cover the full cost. Only the sacrifice of God Himself is enough to redeem us from the consequences of humanity’s fall, and ours.
And that hits me personally.
In my 64 trips around the sun, I can’t come close to counting how many times I’ve beaten myself up over my mistakes. I’ve replayed conversations, regretted decisions, questioned motives, and carried shame longer than I should have. I’ve held onto failures like receipts, as if keeping careful records could somehow make me more responsible, more remorseful, more “worthy” of forgiveness.
But Ephesians 1:7 says forgiveness is not based on my record-keeping. It’s based on the riches of His grace.
That phrase matters: not the leftovers of His grace, not the crumbs of His grace, not the “barely enough” of His grace. The riches of His grace. God is not stingy with mercy. The cross is not a partial payment plan. Jesus is not waiting for you to meet Him halfway. Redemption is not earned by self-punishment. It is received by faith.
As we walk a true north path toward Jesus, we adjust. It isn’t a straight road or a smooth, paved one. I think it must be like this because we don’t know what the end looks like, so we turn, look, listen, and sometimes correct course. Some of the most meaningful growth in my life hasn’t been flashy; it’s been quiet recalibration—learning how to respond instead of react, how to listen before speaking, how to soften where I used to harden.
One thing that changed for me over the years I’ve been a believer is that I became less dogmatic in how I relate to people. I became far less judgmental. I began to notice that being “right” can still be unloving, and that truth without grace doesn’t look much like Jesus. A wise friend once told me, “Trying to convince someone of change didn’t make very good friendships and ended up alienating people.”
That counsel has stayed with me, because it lines up with the way God deals with us. He leads. He invites. He teaches. He convicts. But He does not crush.
How do we keep our bearings when the path is uneven? God hasn’t left us without light:
“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.”
Psalm 119:105
God’s Word provides direction and guidance for our travels through life. It isn’t just information—it’s living energy that actively offers to navigate our journey through a sinful world. Charles Spurgeon wrote, “We are walkers through the city of this world, and we are often called to go out into its darkness; let us never venture there without the light-giving word, lest we slip with our feet.”
A lamp for your feet doesn’t show you the whole highway at once. It gives light for the next step. And that’s often how faith works: not a full blueprint, but enough light to move forward with trust.
Stephen Covey made the idea of “True North” popular as an inner compass that doesn’t depend on circumstances. When your identity and values are anchored in what is lasting, you remain steady across boundaries, settings, and seasons. External pressures and opinions change, but true north keeps your choices aligned with what is right, not what is convenient.
Geographically, north points us toward the North Pole. For followers of Jesus, true north points us toward Him. And that direction matters because this world is not designed to bring complete satisfaction, fulfillment, and contentment. We taste goodness here, but we don’t get fullness here. We experience joy, but not uninterrupted joy. We find beauty, but not unbroken beauty.
Yet we have hope. One day, all sad things will become untrue.
For Christians, true north is the only path we can be on. What’s the point of having the perfect map, compass, and GPS if it isn’t getting us to the right destination? It’s like getting on a plane from LAX to Midway when you’re supposed to be going to Dallas. You can be sincerely traveling, confidently seated, and totally wrong about where you’re headed. But when our direction is set toward Jesus—toward His redemption, His forgiveness, His life—then even the detours can’t cancel the destination.
Because the destination has already been secured by grace.
Key Application
- Read Ephesians 1. The next time you use your phone, your car GPS, or even an old-school map, pay attention to the journey. Think about your destination. Then remember this: your trip has been paid for. None of us deserves to get there, but thanks to Jesus, we can. When you feel lost, return to true north: not your shame, not your striving, not your fear—Christ and His redemption.