Remembering a one-of-a-kind, larger-than-life lady.

Our participation in the electoral process forms us and trains us. Into whose image and toward what vision of goodness—well, that all depends.

I think the closest thing to a full-blown Wild West shootout we have today are the volley of shots fired from Christian parenting-focused social media accounts. What is going on under the surface, and where do we need God’s healing and a better story?

The hilarious story of how my son lost his tooth during communion, and welcoming our children as the Church of today, not the Church of the future.

“Loving our enemies” is not a mere lens through which to see the world, but a mandate Jesus actually means us to follow. Jesus shows us the depth of his meaning as he embodies his own words on the Cross, saying of those those who falsely accused, mocked, tortured, and murdered him: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

If I am to follow Jesus into loving God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, then I must do it here, right where I am.

Those scarred hands alone can hold the gratitude and deep sadness we’re feeling all in the same breath as we praise him for a decade together.

Those of us who have set our hope fully on our King and his coming Kingdom are like February gardeners. We see the hard ground and hard hearts of Winter all around, yet we are also those who “rejoice, though we have considered all the facts.”

“If you’re not angry, you’re not paying attention.” 

I believe Jesus offers a better, deeper, fuller way to pay attention to what is happening in our world.

The love and life of Christ in our home bears witness to the truth that our family, our home, our street is caught up in something not just a century old, but something eternal.

What if we implored the Spirit to take these truths from merely something we recite from the creeds on a Sunday, or something for theologians to debate, and instead to empower us to consider with all seriousness how these truths transform our hearts by the Spirit to love the Lord and cause us to walk in the way of Jesus?

Worship of our glorious God and love for our neighbor would flow like a river from people of God.

One year ago this weekend, we gathered with our fellow IACers in the freezing cold at a park on the Westside. Used to cramming shoulder to shoulder in the pews, instead we sat spread out on blankets and folding chairs with new words in our vocabulary, like “social distancing,” “flatten the curve,” “masking,” and “pandemic.” We looked at each other with eyes wide, half laughing in unbelief, wondering aloud to each other if this would be over by Easter (ah, weren’t we cute…). Still, we came forward to the table—staggered, but still together—to receive the bread and the wine.  We had no idea it would be months before we would participate in communion in person again.

This Epiphany, as we’ve soaked up the stories of the visit of the wise men, Jesus’s presentation at the temple, his baptism, miraculous healings, and his transfiguration, I have been so struck by the tangibility, the physicality of God’s glory and light revealed in Christ. It means something that Jesus has a face with actual eyes that people could actually look into to know that they are loved, safe, valued. And that God-made-man could also receive love from the faces of those who loved him.

I will not weaponize what God meant for healing. I dare not throw in the face of my co-heirs what he has given to us in love. I will not use for my own gain what is meant to renew all things, making every heart cry out, “Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit!”

The coming weeks will present the American church with many reasons for division. However, even in the midst of strong disagreements, be on your guard against the impulse to see those with the same opinions as you as “us,” and the believers you disagree with as “them.”

A few nights ago Sam and I bundled up (one of us using Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer finger puppets as a glove—pick your battles, they tell me), and set out to deliver some Christmas gifts to the houses on our street.

My sister and I got together this morning to make my Grandma’s butterhorn rolls. I cannot accurately describe them—they can only be experienced.

An encouragement to my family in Christ in these tense days:

Watch where and how you swing that “Jesus is on the throne” banner today. Though I honestly believe most of us intend this to be encouraging, your pep rally flag can unwittingly become a blunt force instrument for those who are hurting, both inside and outside the Church.

This is a bit of my street. On the right you’ll see a house with a “Trump 2020: Keep America Great” banner at the top (Side note: You can’t access that Mary Poppins-like roof from inside, people. I have no idea how he got that up there.).

I’ll tell you one thing I’ve noticed lately—that share button is a little too easy to press. I can zing-by-proxy, mic-drop without much consideration. I get all the instant satisfaction, with none of the hassle of discernment.