How to Walk Like Jesus: Finding His Grace and His Pace
Pastor Kara Veach
The other day I was walking Marley, our dog, and she was pulling so hard on the leash she was practically choking herself. She wanted to set the pace. She wanted to get there faster. She didn’t care that she couldn’t handle the speed she was demanding. And if I’m honest, I’ve done the same thing in life. Trying to keep it together through chaos. Trying to hustle my way into outcomes. Trying to move faster than the grace I’ve been given. If you want to hear the full message, click the link above for the full sermon.
I’ve also been on an escalator with kids. You know the moment. You stand on the edge. You grab their hand. “Ready…set…go.” One of my boys once froze and wouldn’t step on. He was overwhelmed by the movement and the noise and the unknown. That image sticks with me because so many of us are either sprinting ahead like Marley or frozen on the edge like my son.
Today, I want to talk about what it means to walk like Jesus. To find His grace and His pace.
Walk Like Jesus: It Starts With Grace
If our goal is to live how Jesus lived, talk how Jesus talked, and love like Jesus loved, then we also have to walk how Jesus walked.
Now, I’m not graceful. My husband Kyle calls me “The Hammer.” I once put ten holes in the wall trying to hang one picture. I’ll get it done, but it won’t look elegant. When we talk about grace in movement, we think refinement. Smoothness. Poise.
But that’s not the grace I’m preaching about.
Grace is the free, unmerited favor and loving-kindness of God toward humanity, providing salvation, forgiveness, and blessings that are not earned or deserved. It is unmerited. Not based on our achievements. Not based on our performance.
Grace is love given as a gift, not a reward for works.
This is love. Grace is love.
Jesus Flipped Tables—But He Walked in Love
Let’s look at an unusual story if we’re talking about grace: Jesus flipping tables in Mark 11:15–18 (NIV):
15 On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple courts and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, 16 and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. 17 And as he taught them, he said, “Is it not written: ‘My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’” 18 The chief priests and the teachers of the law heard this and began looking for a way to kill him, for they feared him, because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching.
The temple courts referenced here were the Court of the Gentiles—the only place Gentiles could worship. Money changers were exchanging foreign currency. Merchants were selling doves, often forcing foreigners to purchase “acceptable” sacrifices. What should have been set apart for prayer became a place of exploitation and exclusion.
We love a feisty Jesus. We like a “tell it how it is” Jesus. A justice Jesus. It feels clear. It feels strong.
But here’s what undid me.
This happened on Monday of Holy Week. Just days before Jesus would be betrayed, beaten, and crucified.
And who did He die for?
The Gentiles who were excluded
The disciples who would scatter
The merchants exploiting the system
The leaders plotting to kill Him
Every single one of them.
If there’s anything I want you to remember, it’s this:
Jesus didn’t make a scene because it was wrong. He made a scene because it wasn’t love.
He walked into the temple and essentially said, “This isn’t love. This isn’t the heart of My Father.”
He didn’t hate the merchants. He hated that people were being blocked from experiencing God’s love. He hates exploitation. He hates discrimination. He hates hate. Because He is love.
And yet, we struggle to extend grace to someone who hurt us in middle school. I can still name the kid who pulled a chair out from under me in eighth grade science. We crave being right. We focus on rules. But when we forget that God’s Word exists for love—loving God and loving people—we miss the point.
Just because Jesus corrects doesn’t mean He rejects.
When I correct my kids, I sit them down and say, “What you did wasn’t okay. I love you.” Grace isn’t given after someone fixes their behavior. It’s given before, during, and after correction.
He died for the best parts of us and the worst parts of us.
To walk like Jesus is to walk in His grace and from His grace. Receiving forgiveness. Extending forgiveness. Not based on merit, but based on love.
Walk Like Jesus: Follow His Pace
Jesus also walked with an intentional pace.
As a teacher, I once had to call 9-1-1. My heart was racing. My voice was shaking. Then the EMTs arrived. They didn’t burst in frantically. They moved quickly but calmly. Deliberate. Focused. Controlled.
They didn’t match the chaos. They brought calm into it.
In almost every emergency story in the Gospels, Jesus walks. He doesn’t sprint.
In Mark 5, Jairus begged Jesus to heal his daughter. Jesus went with him—but He walked. On the way, a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years touched His robe. Instead of rushing past her, Jesus stopped. He turned. He asked questions. He called her “Daughter.”
Meanwhile, Jairus’ daughter was dying.
From our perspective, that feels inefficient. But Jesus was never late. Both women were healed.
In John 11, when Lazarus was sick, Scripture says Jesus stayed where He was two more days. He even told His disciples plainly, “Lazarus is dead.”
Then we read John 11:41b–44a (NIV):
“Father, I thank you that you have heard me…
Lazarus, come out!”
The dead man came out…
That doesn’t look like panic. That looks like purpose.
Jesus wasn’t slow because He didn’t care. He was steady because He trusted the Father.
Are You Sprinting everywhere?
When do we sprint?
When we’re trying to win.
When we’re trying to survive.
We feel pressure to win at life. To give our kids the best opportunities. To build something meaningful. To keep up in North County San Diego. To survive financially. To survive parenting. To survive marriage.
We sprint because we feel pressure.
Jesus walked because He lived from peace.
Maybe one of the clearest signs of spiritual maturity isn’t how much Scripture we know, but the pace we keep.
If your life constantly feels like a 100-meter sprint, you may be living at a speed Jesus never modeled.
Do you ever try to out-pace God? I have. I tried to ensure a job. I tried to orchestrate my own proposal after dating Kyle for two years. I was so frustrated when what I expected didn’t happen. And yet, God’s timing was better than my pressure.
As hard as we try to set the pace for our lives, God has a better one.
Jesus sets the pace because He loves us. We walk at His pace because we trust Him.
How do we know His pace?
We talk to Him.
We listen to Him.
We learn from Him in His Word.
1 John 2:5–6 (CSB) says:
“But whoever keeps his word, truly in him the love of God is made complete. This is how we know we are in him: The one who says he remains in him should walk just as he walked.”
And 1 Peter 2:21b (NLT):
“He is your example, and you must follow in his steps.”
We cannot walk like Jesus if we don’t study how Jesus walked.
Reflection Questions: Are We Walking Like Jesus?
Let’s ask ourselves:
Do we walk with unfiltered grace?
Are we extending grace because we have received it?
Do we walk with an intentional pace?
Is our pace marked by peace or productivity?
Jesus walked with grace. Jesus walked with purpose. Jesus walked in love.
And He invites us to do the same.
Further Resources
The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer
Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools by Tyler Staton
3 Attributes of the Pace of Jesus by Michael Kelly
