“How did we get here?” It’s one of the questions I ponder after every school shooting, after every senseless act of violence, after every scandal in the public arena. It’s one of the questions I ask God. The longer version: “Oh Lord, how did this country come to be like it is today?”
Sometimes I mourn for the state of our country…our world. Maybe you do, too. Jesus said,
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. –Matthew 5:4
Like many of Jesus’ statements, this line seems backward at first. Like I’m going to celebrate my grief because I experienced some comfort in it?!? It would still be better not to have grieved at all, thank you very much!
Maybe we don’t really understand “blessed.” Continue reading
I recently began working outside our home. For the previous four years, I poured my days (what was left after washing dishes and buying groceries, which are both part of a vicious but necessary cycle, now that I think about it.) into writing and all the obligations surrounding it (e.g. social media). But what I loved—what I always wanted to be doing—was opening the Word of God and writing about it. That part never felt like work. It still doesn’t.
There are big chunks of my new
job that don’t feel like work.
But now, I go to an office most days, and I’m trying to adjust my life to this new normal while I try not to lose the writing. This struggle for adjustment is why, for the first time since September 2015, my blog posts are sometimes late. There are big chunks of my new job that don’t feel like work, just like when I wrote from home. And some parts of my new job that are work feel like the work of helping someone move: hard but rewarding. (Maybe for you, it’s gardening or baking.) God has equipped and trained me for this new job, and I know He has placed me there for this time. Continue reading
Jesus and the disciples had just finished their final Passover meal. The next twelve hours would be the most dramatic in all of history. According to John’s gospel, Jesus still has a lot to say before Judas plants that (temporarily) fatal kiss on his cheek. He wants the disciples to be prepared for the coming day (which we, ironically, call Good Friday) but He never tells them straight-up what will happen. I think maybe that’s because they would have overreacted, refused to step aside, gathered more swords. Instead, He repeats how they can’t go with Him into this next thing.
Peter won’t leave it alone. I’m not surprised; he’s the impulsive, brash, head-strong disciple. Probably the oldest, he often serves as spokesperson for the group…and often that open mouth finds his own foot stuck in it. Continue reading