Our lives will be a song of sincere love towards God and others, a stream of worship that elevates our lives from mere performances of humankind to daily and intentional displays of Christ’s love for and towards God and our neighbor.
Most of us are not nearly in that kind of place, but following the God of Psalm 112 who is revealed fully in Jesus—loving what the Lord loves and hating what the Savior hates—has enough potential, of burden, joy, disappointment, pleasant surprise, doubt, and faith, to need the occasional tune worth humming. Let one find you.
Since we know God will keep his end of the deal in giving us “the desires of our hearts”, what are tangible ways that we can do our part of delighting in Him?
What matters is not necessarily the hesitation, but our willingness to take the next step—to move further into following Jesus, to move further into what is perhaps a broken relationship, a broken faith, a broken heart, a broken identity.
Ruth taught me that the best decision for us within God’s masterplan might not always be the most logical decision in the eyes of human beings.
Part of living like a disciple of Christ is recognizing the foolish and scandalous nature of the cross, which stands in stark opposition to the pride and self-love that dominate our Orpah-ian responses in the ebb and flow of Christian life.
Boasting in the Lord is, on the one hand, quite the opposite of boasting in one’s self. Instead of drawing attention to ourselves, we draw attention to Christ. This boasting is a call for people to admire him as much as we admire him. We are seeking praise—for Christ’s worth.
Love, then, is lavishing yourself upon someone who is unworthy and unattractive.
Here I am, remembering my slavery as a confession for you. It is uncomfortable to admit. It is an act of vulnerability. In my social justice circles, it looks dirty and embarrassing and unintelligent. But if I truly care about justice, freedom, and loving my neighbor, I must start with myself. I must remember. Will you consider doing the same?
The beauty of this psalm is the promise we find within it, once we no longer see the psalmist’s words as a list of boxes to check and gold stars to earn.
I can only begin to understand the depth of the joy that Zechariah foretold of the incarnate Word entering our world “to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.”
Prayer is an incubator that provides the spiritual conditions to grow religious passion. Furthermore, prayer reminds us that the Divine presence is near even when our circumstances suggest God is far away.
The difficulty of discerning truth and the humility in that discernment do not negate the responsibility to look out for what is dangerous and harmful.
Like light in the darkness, the promises of God bring hope. Like a boat firmly anchored through a storm, we find our firm hope in Jesus, the anchor of our lives.
I’m wondering whether I at least need the Wonder Woman headband as a consistent reminder to live with my eyes firmly fixed. What I don’t have to wonder is whether the spirit of the one who raised Christ Jesus from the dead lives in me. That’s secure.
Maybe instead of trying so hard to find the way back home, the little girl needs – I need – to stop, take a moment, and realize that as much as I seek after God, it’s really God who’s seeking me.
By telling what God has done in our lives, we point to the grace of the cross, to the one who is our Light and our Salvation, our stronghold in times of darkness.
To move forward, we must be willing to defy old traditions, to risk being ridiculed and questioned. And in the process, we will liberate ourselves of old patterns, habits, strings that tie us down from feeling free in Christ
This is the story of one who took the blame.
We were the ones who did it. But we weren’t the ones punished for it.
I wonder if God is speaking to me and to us as God’s people through Acts 8 about the simplicity and effectiveness of just sitting down with people whose lives are very different from our own with curiosity, care and thoughtfulness.
What would our world look like right now if we started every communication with such language?
If we want to catch people for Christ, we need to be sure to do both parts. We need to be willing to listen for God and expect God to speak in even the most mundane parts of our day.
That God chooses to dwell with us, and be with us, even to the extent of dining with us. God would participate in what is both a basic necessity and a sacred moment in community, in order to be with us.
Life is a disorienting experience. Ideas, leaders, and movements come and go. Places we knew change, people we know leave. Just one phone call or headline is enough to convince us that the safety we take for granted is an illusion.
Trusting and believing this assurance from Isaiah may challenge us today just as it would have challenged those who had gotten accustomed to life in exile. That’s why it’s helpful to envision ourselves in the long, winding lineage of God’s people, seeing the connections to the past and the way God has led others before us.