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 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.

It’s Labor Day and hopefully this finds you resting. Isn’t it funny that we celebrate work by resting? In fact, I think that’s exactly what the Sabbath was intended to be: a weekly celebration and enjoyment of all the things we accomplished in our labors throughout the week. This particular Labor Day is just plain bizarre. It’s the beginning of a season of a hundred decisions a day, from the schedule we keep at home or work, to how we’re going to school our children. Also, it’s an election year, and the Labor Day of election years always marks the beginning of the final campaign sprint to Election Day on November 4th. The insanity surrounding all of it simply goes without saying. It’s nuts; nothing feels normal. It feels like everything and everyone is reactionary and nothing can be planned. And yet our God loves loves loves to give His people rest. There are hundreds of verses related to His desire for our rest, but I’ll lay out two to help us decide today to rest rather than react.

He erupted into the world—encapsulated Himself in flesh and blood, subjected Himself to time in order to live the perfect life for us, so that… He could obliterate the bounds of time and flesh and meet us Spirit to spirit, dwell in and among each of us forever and always. Paul’s explanation of what the Holy Spirit means for us overwhelms me when I hold it up against the feelings of inadequacy I have as a mother to be everything to my children.

God often reminds me that He is God and I am not. He does it in many ways; through His Word, through circumstances, through discipline. Sometimes it’s a hard-learned lesson, but He is always kind to show us Who He is, and who we are in relation to Him. I think one of the kindest ways He does this is through creation. 

Over the years, I’ve come to recognize that for me, often, simply being reminded that He’s the Creator of it all is what causes me to trust Him most—especially with the things I just can’t comprehend. When I’m confronted with things about His character or in Scripture that are “too wondrous for me to know” (Job 42:3), it’s the fact of creation that brings me back to trust.

I learned what the Bible means in 1 Corinthians 13 when it says, “love protects.” The Greek word for love in this case is agape—the kind of love only God can give. And the Greek word for protects is stego and means “to cover over in silence.” As soon as I heard this definition, my mind immediately flashed to this story of Noah and his sons.

Did you know, we have an enemy who literally stands before God accusing us day and night, pointing out our shame? (Rev 12:10) Like Ham, he laughs about us: “Look, God…look what your ‘little righteous one’ did! Come check it out. Do you see her shame?” If you try to imagine what you’re being accused of as Satan stands before God, it probably wouldn’t take long to come up with some ideas. Maybe the way you yelled at your kids before school this morning? Maybe the way you treated your husband in a moment of hurry? Maybe the entire cookie sleeve you ate from the pantry five minutes ago? Maybe you feel it’s so much worse than any of those examples and it’s not even in the same universe…abuse? Adultery? Slander? It doesn’t matter. My point is, the voice you have in your head accusing you and insisting you should feel ashamed is real. But our agape loving God already responded to every. single. accusation—both big and small.

It seems the world is burning. God silenced the world through Covid-19. He insisted we all take a break for a bit. And then the ground began to shake. Locust swarms and dust clouds from Africa, famines, racial tensions peaking and spreading across the globe, and it feels like our nation is irreparably fractured and our world collapsing. 

For me, whenever major life events take place, I can always trace a supernatural draw to Scripture occurring for a long season before the crises; so I know it’s no mistake that I am immersed in the Word of God more than I’ve ever been before. In fact, I have found it to be consistent with God’s rhythm in my life. 

So this one is for you—the young moms who are managing limited play dates in the midst of quarantine and have become the primary care giver and imagination-mate to your children. To you who are feeling guilty for not having one more moment of make believe in your tired souls. For those of you who are sure that your sanity got flushed down the pooper with the last failed attempt at potty training this week. And dare I say, this is for you, the mother of little ones who hasn’t a moment for a quiet time or devotion and if you did, you’d rather shut your eyelids for those brief moments or talk to your mom or best friend on the phone than open your Bible.

Evidence surfaces as I observe the discourse surrounding monuments coming down and flags being changed. Four years ago, the arguments I made, the feelings I had were so different, so predictable. But my feelings and thoughts are changing quickly and drastically; it’s all been strangely unsettling. But…

I’ve been more immersed in Scripture than ever and I’m being changed by words—His Word—the way only a book that is alive can do. Almost every line on every page has been filled with reassurances that He’s doing a work in me. He’s re-centering me and my identity.

These final lines in Paul’s letter to his beloved believers have been resonating in me since our Dive group met last week. His words call to those of us in the midst of the cultural and political turmoil, because it’s an offering of peace.

We wrap up our first Dive Studies tomorrow and I’ll be completely honest, it was far more wonderful than I could have ever hoped or imagined.

To learn beside so many incredible people, to be challenged to see the words in a different way, to see lightbulbs go off and eyes light up as the Holy Spirit blew His breath and ignited new flames holds meaning and joy which words will forever fail to convey. I sit at my kitchen table replaying some of my favorite memories and one stands out because it occurred on the very first day as we opened our Bibles and began chapter one.

Not long into our first meeting, shortly after reading through chapter one aloud, one of our members, Michelle, said, “Just taking a step back and looking at the big picture of this chapter, I can easily see why you chose this book to start studying as Dive Collective.” And she was right. We chose Galatians with great purpose. God showed her from the beginning of the book that the most important message, the undergirding of every reading we will ever do and the lens through which we will read the entire text is the grace of the Gospel.

We are brave when we take risks and trust our Master… when we take a tiny little talent that we’ve not been given but rather entrusted with, and we bravely offer it to the world, unsure of whether it will bring anything of value to anyone at all, but sure that God can and will. It’s that first offering of the smallest gift God has deposited in us, hoping that God’s faithfulness to take our offerings and bless and multiply them is actually true. It’s the moment when we choose to put it out there, knowing that people could laugh at us… but then wonder, what if they don’t? Or when we take that first step, knowing we just might fall, but act on the vision of what happens if we actually fly.

It’s clear now that my thoughts were providentially interrupted. I pushed back against the wall of the plane and watched this woman strategize what to do next. In the meantime, I was performing my own mental calculations—a cost/benefit analysis. Hoping that the staff of the plane had some miracle solution for vomit everywhere, I told myself over and over that I was not going to participate in clean-up but the deep down parts of me revolted. I knew what was coming; I had just spent the last few hours considering Christ… who He is and what He’s done; how to live faithful in times when all is out of my control. And the Holy Spirit whispered, “This is how you’ll keep your eyes unwaveringly fixed on Me. Serve.”

I tried to think of easy conversation to break the tension. She and I both were on the verge of retching. Will her name be on the list? Will she belong? Hannah had worked all summer on her volleyball skills. Two months ago, we had only slept in our brand-new, still-empty home two days before Hannah bravely accepted an emailed invitation to play volleyball with a slew of girls she didn’t know. My eyes grew wide when she agreed to go.