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A tale of two cups
An invisible cup was handed to me on the occasion of my first breath, filled with a story I'd sip one day at a time until kingdom come. The taste of this narrative fluctuates—periodically sweet, often tangy, frequently bitter.
Happy at home
If it's been a while since you perused Deuteronomy, I highly recommend a refresher. There are several surprises scattered like Easter eggs throughout. One of the most stunning expectations is this: "When a man is newly married, he shall not go out with the army or be liable for any other public duty. He shall be free at home one year to be happy with his wife whom he has taken." (Deuteronomy 24:5)
Dream bigger
"How could we bless you?"
He looked at me intently as I gathered the courage to reply: "I'd love to go to seminary."
"Done," he said. "You should have dreamed bigger."
Let me tell you, friends—those are some haunting words.
Redeeming self-care
“Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don’t be impressed with yourself. Don’t compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life.” (Galatians 6:4-5 MSG)
Meditate on this short but meaty passage long enough, and you might notice that Paul's charge is nearly impossible to carry out from a place of survival mode.
The chronic Gospel
One in 3,200. That's the statistic: for every 3,200 live births in the US, one sweet baby will have a rare, incurable, progressive disease called cystic fibrosis. On July 1, 2020, my daughter arrived in the world as the one.
The pastor’s pastor
The days leading up to our church planting journey are a golden haze in my memory. As soon as we experienced the first missional pull six years ago, my husband and I consumed absurd quantities of Dr. Pepper and scrambled for every pertinent book, article, and podcast in Christendom. Despite the caffeine-induced fog, one sentiment jumped out from the masses of content and wrapped itself tightly around my heart. It hasn’t budged since. In a session on marriage and missions, the trainer asked a group of hopeful church planters, “Men, who’s your pastor?” He waited. Crickets. His answer knocked the wind out of me.
Three books to hack your 2021
“Auld Lang Syne” swells in the background as you sweep the last bits of Christmas into storage, making way for countdowns and confetti. It’s time to break out your fancy glasses and talk about the dreams you plan to turn into goals, pandemic or no pandemic.
Wouldn’t it be nice if there were a handful of resources tailored to multiply every ounce of energy you put into meeting those goals? A way to get the biggest bang for your buck?
Incubator for the soul
We've had to adapt to a new normal almost overnight, learning to operate at a distance for the well-being of the community. Goodness knows periods of isolation can cause significant stress, but I'd like to submit an alternate perspective: what if this time shut inside could be one of the single greatest instances of potential for kingdom empowerment we've seen in this generation?
Lent for the expecting heart
Days swell with the anticipation of that larger-than-life rhythm that has marked humanity since the garden: death and resurrection. The groans of bringing forth new life hang heavy in the future. As I find myself waiting for our first baby this Lenten season, I'm struck by the phrase expecting mother. What am I expecting? Surprisingly, my hopes are an awful lot like those of every other thoughtful heart during Lent, "great with child" or not.
Good theology for bad days
God, You're so good. / God, You're so good. / God, You're so good, / You're so good to me.
I choked the simple chorus out on Sunday morning despite a lump rising in my throat. Weeks of waiting for the results of a major medical test numbed my ability to belt out the lyrics with the same gusto as those around me. Instead a pitiful, broken string of truth fell quietly from my mouth, each word a salty tear.
Hearing voices
I find deep beauty in the hush that falls over my heart and home after the holiday chaos has ebbed. Décor is stowed until next year, surfaces are reordered, and a gentle blanket of silence fills the previously riotous internal and external spaces of life.
Here in the pause, the first part of Isaiah 30:15 expands in real time, a banner of peace spread triumphant — “For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel, ‘In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.’”
The procrastinator’s gospel
They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting a different result. When it comes to procrastination, I find myself on the struggle bus. It goes a little something like this:
Mud wrestling
You know those gentle proddings from Jesus – the kind that easily guide you along life’s journey, leading you away from one thing and toward another? Apparently those don't work on me. I seem to need the spiritual equivalent of a two-by-four upside the head to get my attention.