- Covered In His Dust
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- Acts Chapter 20 (part 2)
"When disciples followed a rabbi, they followed him closely so they would never be out of his sight, never be someplace where they couldn’t hear him speak. They followed him so closely that his sandals often kicked up dust."
May you be covered in His dust.
If this is your first time receiving Covered in His Dust, WELCOME. I’d love to hear where you’re reading from. Just reply and let me know.
Before you dive into my notes, I encourage you to read Chapter 20 first.
Yes, I include all the scripture below, but there’s something about sitting with the whole chapter first — giving yourself room to be curious.
What doesn’t make sense?
What catches you off guard?
Who’s that?
Those questions will make the notes hit deeper.
Peace be with you, saints, as the night falls—may the Lord strengthen you in every good work.
Last week...
Paul left the chaos in Ephesus and began traveling through Macedonia and Greece.
When he stopped in Troas, he preached late into the night. A young man named Eutychus fell asleep, fell from a third-story window, and was picked up dead. But God, through Paul, raised him back to life.
Paul kept moving, determined to reach Jerusalem by Pentecost.
Ok. Let’s get after it.
Now from Miletus he sent to Ephesus and called the elders of the church to come to him. And when they came to him, he said to them:
Miletus was about 30 miles south of Ephesus. That’s not a quick trip. It would’ve taken at least a day on foot—maybe more.
This wasn’t casual. Paul really wanted to speak to them. He asked the leaders to come to him. These men mattered to Paul. This church mattered. These are final words to men he loved and served with for years.
It’s the only speech in Acts addressed specifically to believers.
And these weren’t just believers. These were the leaders of the church in Ephesus. Men Paul had likely discipled himself. Men who had watched him teach, serve, suffer, and preach day after day.
Men who were now responsible for protecting the church.
“You yourselves know how I lived among you the whole time from the first day that I set foot in Asia, serving the Lord with all humility and with tears and with trials that happened to me through the plots of the Jews;
how I did not shrink from declaring to you anything that was profitable, and teaching you in public and from house to house, testifying both to Jews and to Greeks of repentance toward God and of faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.
Paul starts by pointing to his life.
“You yourselves know how I lived among you…”
This wasn’t distant leadership. He lived WITH them. They saw everything—his humility, his tears, and the trials that came with preaching the truth.
He doesn’t brag about signs and wonders here. He talks about tears. He talks about suffering.
Real ministry is often quiet and costly.
Paul’s words hit deep here.
As missionaries in Guatemala for over a decade—and now stepping into Cuba—we’ve lived this. Not perfectly. Not without weakness. But we know what it’s like to serve with tears. To keep going, even when it’s hard.
This isn’t theory. It’s real life.
Then he says, “I did not shrink from declaring to you anything that was profitable…”
That
is
bold.
There are plenty of things people don’t want to hear. But Paul didn’t hold back.
He taught in public and from house to house. To Jews and to Greeks. And his message was simple and direct: Repentance toward God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.
That’s it. Not a complicated philosophy. Not motivational teaching. Repentance and faith. We need more of that in our churches today.
And now, behold, I am going to Jerusalem, constrained by the Spirit, not knowing what will happen to me there, except that the Holy Spirit testifies to me in every city that imprisonment and afflictions await me.
“Constrained by the Spirit”: The Greek word is δεδεμένος (dedemenos) means literally bound, tied up, or compelled.
It’s strong.
Not “I feel led,” but I am bound.
Paul isn’t being dragged against his will. But he’s not free to walk away either. The Holy Spirit had gripped his heart. And Paul has surrendered.
He doesn’t know what’s coming. Only that suffering is waiting.
And
he
still
says
yes.
That’s what it means to follow Jesus.
You give up control. You give up your schedule, your money, your plans, your comfort. You give up the right to be safe or understood or in charge.
The Spirit doesn’t just call you. He prepares you. He binds you. Like He did with Paul.
Affliction didn’t catch Paul off guard. The Holy Spirit had been whispering it all along the road.
And Paul still kept walking.
But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.
An unassuming verse, but one of the most powerful in all of Paul’s words. It’s like his personal mission statement. There’s a lot to unpack.
Paul knew what was coming. Still, he said, “But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself…”
Man, that’s surrender.
“…if only I may finish my course…”
Paul’s not chasing safety or comfort. He’s chasing obedience. He just wants to finish well.
“…and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus…”
That line matters. Paul didn’t get this ministry—or this gospel—from the apostles. He got it from Jesus Himself.
“For I did not receive it from any man, nor was I taught it, but I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ.”
It wasn’t man’s message. It was God’s. And here’s the heart of it, “…to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.”
This is a gut-check. For all of us.
What are we living for?
What are we holding onto?
Are we trying to preserve our lives—or pour them out?
That! That’s the life I want!
“Lord, strip me of self-preservation and fill me with a desire to pour my life out for Your name.”
And now, behold, I know that none of you among whom I have gone about proclaiming the kingdom will see my face again. Therefore I testify to you this day that I am innocent of the blood of all, for I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God.
“None of you… will see my face again.”
That line had to hit hard. This is a man who lived among them. Ate with them. Taught them. Suffered with them. And now he’s saying: This is it.
But he doesn’t leave them with emotions. He leaves them with truth, “I am innocent of the blood of all…”
Paul’s referring to Ezekiel 33.
“If I say to the wicked, O wicked one, you shall surely die, and you do not speak to warn the wicked to turn from his way, that wicked person shall die in his iniquity, but his blood I will require at your hand.”
He’s saying, I warned them. I told them everything. I didn’t hold back.
“I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God.”
Not just the comforting parts. Not just the encouraging verses. The whole counsel.
Sin.
Judgment.
Grace.
Repentance.
Faith.
Suffering.
Hope.
All of it.
He didn’t preach what was popular. He preached what was true.
Pay careful attention to yourselves and to all the flock, in which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to care for the church of God, which he obtained with his own blood.
“Pay careful attention to yourselves and to all the flock…”
Paul starts with you. Leaders don’t just watch over others. They watch over their own hearts first.
THEN the flock. Not a crowd. Not an audience. A flock.
Vulnerable. Dependent. In need of protection, guidance, and care.
“…in which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers…”
They weren’t voted in. They didn’t climb a ladder. They were placed there—by the Holy Spirit.
This wasn’t a job. It was a calling.
“…to care for the church of God, which he obtained with his own blood.”
That line should stop us. This isn’t just a group of believers. It’s God’s church. Bought with His blood. Jesus didn’t just die for individuals. He died for His church.
I know that after my departure fierce wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock; and from among your own selves will arise men speaking twisted things, to draw away the disciples after them.
Paul isn’t warning about the world. He’s warning about within the church.
The danger isn’t just external—fierce wolves coming in. It’s internal. “From among your own selves…”
These weren’t strangers. These were trusted leaders. And yet Paul says some of them would twist the truth to pull people away.
And why? “To draw away the disciples after them.” Not after Jesus. After them.
So Paul’s warning is clear: Pay attention. Stay anchored. Watch for the twisting of truth.
Therefore be alert, remembering that for three years I did not cease night or day to admonish every one with tears. And now I commend you to God and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up and to give you the inheritance among all those who are sanctified.
That line says everything about Paul’s heart. “He admonished every one of them… with tears. For three years.”
Here’s what it means:
Admonished means he warned them, urged them, corrected them. Not with pride. Not with harshness. But with tears.
It wasn’t cold teaching. It was heartbreaking love.
For three years, Paul didn’t stop. Day or night. Publicly or privately. He kept pouring out truth. Kept pleading with them to stay faithful. Kept reminding them what was at stake.
This wasn’t a job to Paul.
It was his life.
And it cost him something.
This is the kind of shepherding that leaves a mark. Not just on the people—but on the shepherd.
He loved them enough to cry over them.
That’s rare. And that’s real.
I coveted no one’s silver or gold or apparel. You yourselves know that these hands ministered to my necessities and to those who were with me. In all things I have shown you that by working hard in this way we must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he himself said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’”
Paul didn’t use ministry to get rich.
He didn’t want what anyone else had.
He worked with his own hands—making tents to support himself.
“…he stayed with them and worked, for they were tentmakers by trade.”
He lived what he preached: “It’s more blessed to give than to receive.” That’s servant leadership. Not taking. But laying your life down.
And when he had said these things, he knelt down and prayed with them all. And there was much weeping on the part of all; they embraced Paul and kissed him, being sorrowful most of all because of the word he had spoken, that they would not see his face again. And they accompanied him to the ship.
This isn’t just a farewell—it’s a goodbye for the rest of this life.
They weren’t weeping because Paul gave a great speech. They were weeping because they loved him. Because he had poured himself out for them. And now, he was leaving—for good.
They knelt.
They cried.
They prayed.
They embraced him.
They walked with him to the ship.
It’s hard to read this and not think: Am I loving people like that? Am I giving myself away like that? Will anyone weep when I leave—not because I was impressive, but because I was faithful?
This moment at the shore didn’t happen by accident. It was the result of a life poured out. Paul didn’t just preach to them.
He lived with them.
He served them.
He loved them.
And they knew it.
This kind of love doesn’t come from talent or titles. It comes from truth, time, and sacrifice.
I didn’t want this chapter to end. There was so much encouragement. So much conviction. And so much love.
I love you,
George
Uncovering Scripture
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George Sisneros is a full-time missionary in Guatemala and the founder of Ordinary Missionaries and the El Rosario Christian Academy for Boys.
He’s been married to his wife, Vonda, for 26 years. He’s a father to nine children, five adopted.
In 2024, George and his wife expanded to Cuba, joining forces with nine pastors committed to transforming lives through the gospel.