We have no idea the Kingdom outcomes of our lives of faithfulness and acts of kindness in the midst of our raging culture. Read what Judges and Ruth have to teach us about how God acts on behalf of those who long for Him and uses our lives to bring forth light.

This Holy Week we celebrate the promised seed of Abram. The fulfillment of the promise we have been studying all month in the life of Abram. What did Abram do to receive the promise of God? He responded to God’s call. Period.

We’re coming up on Easter. It was just one Easter ago when Covid struck fear into hearts around the world. All of the sudden toilet paper was gone and we suspected everyone of selfishness and hoarding. We questioned the morality of others based on the number of mask layers they wore—none being the most heinous offense. At the heart of it, we seemed to truly believe that our actions and behaviors could extend or shorten the number of our neighbors’ days. As if we have control over our God-given breaths which are known by Him alone.

This Holy Week we celebrate the promised seed of Abram. The fulfillment of the promise we have been studying all month in the life of Abram. What did Abram do to receive the promise of God? He responded to God’s call. Period.

It’s March—the season of sowing. There’s a marvelous beauty in the rhythm and harmonious work of the Sovereign Vinedresser and the man He made, in not just the toil of the soil but of the soul as well.

Love God, love others. Period. Everything else hinges on these two commands; they wrap up the whole law. There are two things that I’ve been thinking through in regard to this.

And it is the Prince of Peace, who is at once Mighty God and Everlasting Father and Wonderful Counselor, for whom we wait. And when we consider the final Kingdom, I believe what we are experiencing now is a mere picture of the entirety of restored creation filled with His perfect peace. The entire Kingdom will be completeness (in number), safe and sound, healthy and prosperous, tranquil and content, and deep friendship will abound between men as well as between God and man.

God stepped in time and time again to redeem His people, to bring them back to himself. Now, on this side of history, we look back with hearts overflowing with gratefulness for the time when God stepped in once again to redeem His people—this time through His Son, the exact imprint of the nature of God—once for all. In our ultimate redemption though the incarnation and sacrifice the Son, we see the image of the invisible God—our Everlasting Father. 

It’s a picture of God as warrior, defender, champion. Mighty in battle. It brings to my mind the image of the God of Armies, named over and over in the narratives of the kings and the prophets. He is protector, avenger, MIGHTY.

Jesus does all of these things but infinitely more. He didn’t live a perfect life to show us how it’s done so we could follow Him in attempting this same perfection. He came and lived a perfect life for us because we simply cannot… With every stripped-down, vulnerable encounter with our Wonderful Counselor (Isaiah 9:6) we are changed forever for His glory. It doesn’t get more wonderful than that.

This Thanksgiving I want to share this message: The darkest seasons and the hardest days are the times when God draws so very near to us. “The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). His presence is more precious than anything. There’s simply nothing on this earth that compares to the nearness of Jesus. And I must confess, there are times I long for hard seasons just to feel that intimate proximity.

How often have I ascribed more honor and glory and power to the gift rather than the Giver? How often have I distorted the pleasure of a gift from the hand of my Father into something selfish, something all about me? How often have I gotten caught up in the enjoyment of—then disappointed by—a thing that can never satisfy, rather than remembering that all good gifts point me to the only One who can fully satisfy?

When was the last time you had a conversation with someone you care about and you know disagrees with you on something important? (Facebook doesn’t count.) Take a moment and truly think about the last time you had a healthy dialogue of disagreement with someone you love. What was it about? How did it end? Was it with another Christian? How did everyone walk away feeling?

If we already know today that half of our country will be feeling intense emotions like anger, fear, disgust, and distrust once the results are announced, how might we be the light of Christ? No matter the outcome, let’s determine to enter into these next weeks with our flag poles firmly planted in the Kingdom of Heaven where our citizenship truly lies (Philippians 3:20). And while we wait expectantly for our King to return, let’s put our own feelings aside and consider our neighbors (Mark 12:31) before ourselves. What will we do the day after the election?

Immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine. This part of the Story reminded me that I often underestimate what my God is capable of—I ask too small—especially when it is His reputation at stake. But He wants my extravagant requests. Elijah knew that God could do more than just light the spark; He could send the fire that would consume it all. Elijah asked and God met Elijah there. 

Jesus has just been transfigured before the disciples (Mark 9). I learned from one of my Dive Study buddies that the word transfigured means He’s been transformed from the inside out; not just physically, but His entire being has changed and is displayed before Peter, James, and John in its fully glorified state. He’s conversing with Moses and Elijah. Do you wonder what they’re talking about? I do.

For weeks, I’ve been praying for more of Jesus’ love—to experience it, to be filled with it, to overflow with it toward others. For weeks, we’ve been studying Jesus in the Gospel of Mark and I’m amazed that the crucifixion was only part of Jesus’ suffering. The flesh of Jesus endured constant jostling by the smelliest, dirtiest, nastiest people in the land (so much so that he didn’t know he was touched by a woman who had been vaginally bleeding for 12 years); suddenly, I realize how much I hate to be touched! I don’t even like to be bumped around by people I married and gave birth to and who have showered every day! And I’m claustrophobic!

Finding ourselves in the midst of our first significant transition, it seems fitting to write a more personal weekly truth. This past week I announced my transition out of leadership of the Bible studies and I wanted to share how God has shown His faithfulness.

I’d been reading a book by Henri Nouwen and challenged to think about care—what it means, how I do it, how to do it well. Nouwen writes in Out of Solitude, “The basic meaning of care is ‘to grieve, to experience sorrow, to cry out with’… we tend to look at it as the strong toward the weak, of the powerful toward the powerless… in fact, we feel quite uncomfortable with an invitation to enter into someone’s pain…”

I like having answers. I appreciate the ability to definitively determine whether something is one way or another. And I really like it when conclusions seem obvious, when I can put my finger on what I understand or believe about something. When we began our Bible Reading Plan this year, although we didn’t head into it with specific themes in mind, I was really looking forward to making connections.