Category: Faith

I’ve been frustrated recently. Angry at times.

In our effort to make sense of a messy world, attempt to recover a failing economy, protect the lives of the vulnerable, there’s shouting, chaos, misinformation, and even hate.

It’s heavy to see, to hear, to experience.

I’ve felt lonely in a new way – divided by sentiments espoused by family, friends.

There’s division among party lines. Division among faith and what it promises. Division on what should rise to the surface when the dust and pain settle.

James said something today that I love, “Deal with Christ on the basis of who He says He is.” Also, I might add…deal with Christ on the basis of who he was, on how he lived on earth.

I don’t know how to save our fragile economy while protecting the precious lives of all.

There are people much smarter than I working tirelessly to figure this out.

But I am confident in one thing: I know how Jesus lived on earth. And many know, regardless of their religious affiliation.

I know that he served the vulnerable. I know that he stood in the seams of society – rejecting the boundaries of class, race, or education. I know that he gave, and gave, and gave…until he gave his last breath for the lives of those around him.

I know that he loved the lives around him in a practical and ultimate way.

I am also fairly certain that if Jesus were here today, He would not be a republican. He would not a democrat either. He told us to “render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s; and to God the things that are God’s.”

I think that he would rise above the tribalism, the bickering, the anger, the shouting, and help us recall the point.

The point isn’t Caesar… yes, okay that matters, but that’s not the end. The end is God – and God’s kingdom.

And we aren’t left to speculate what God’s kingdom on earth looks like. Christ showed us.

We need only to look to His life.

It is: living in the seams and loving others more than ourselves – treasuring the hearts and lives of one another above all. It is simply loving God and loving others across all our artificial divides.

It is not: having the correct political views or the perfect beliefs (sup, Pharisees). It’s not belonging to the “right” affiliation, denomination, or division.

The identity Christ gave us is in a universal Kingdom – one that transcends country, political affiliation, pain, and pandemic. One church, one Shepard.

So, Lord, help us to love. To forgive the arrogance and anger that make us bitter towards people we care for. To melt our hearts to hear and see the needs around us.

Help us to remember your life, and the people we were created to be. Forgive us when we forget.

The Biblical phrase – believe with your heart. I’ve read this line over and over throughout my life, but recently turned to it as a source of peace and assurance.

We cannot really control the mind all of the time. Sometimes it takes us far off the reservation, other times it takes us next door. But it wanders and searches far and near. You might even call it lost on occasion.

But we are not all mind. Our hearts hold the most precious parts of us. Our fears and insecurities, our hopes and dreams. They don’t take convincing – they just are. They reflect our inner selves like crystal prisms.

When we speak, our words mostly flow from our mind – explaining what we want to believe, telling how we’d prefer to feel. It’s not always about who we are, but who we think we might be or want to be. Guys, it’s complicated.

Yet when the heart speaks, no one hears but everyone sees. Sometimes there is a lag. But, when we act, we are opening a window into our soul – we will inevitably reveal our true, unmasked character regardless of what we say.

We (on net) behave according to who we truly are.

We’re told to believe in our hearts. To want what is right, not to just think it. To act according to promises that sometimes we don’t believe.

When you love someone, you care for them. What hurts them, breaks you. What concerns you, devastates them. The other’s wellbeing is your primary goal. You know what they need because your heart is connected to theirs. There’s not always understanding, but almost always feeling.

A mind can generate words, thoughts, and many things, but it cannot love. Only a heart can do that.

Sometimes I think to believe what is right seems as simple as to act out of love – to treasure one another’s heart.

Jesus loved on earth. He served, he healed, he helped. His heart believed in humanity through continual acts of service. And his heart is what bled out on a cross.

So believe with our heart… I think this means to walk out of love when we don’t know what to think. To walk through life holding the most precious parts of one another dear. To guard each other from pain, to mend the cracks of wear and tare. To love deeply even when it doesn’t make sense.

I think this phrase is encouraging to me because I am a person who often does not know what to think.

Sometimes life doesn’t go the way we plan. Sometimes it sprouts wings and leaves us on the tarmac waving desperately.

The bad seasons can outlast the good ones. And the rainy days persist too long.

Irrespective of reality, I’m tempted to share only positive thoughts and brightly filtered photos.

Why? I’m not exactly sure. Maybe it’s a tendency to portray who I want to be, or the reality I hope for. Maybe it’s fear of imperfection or failure (okay yeah, maybe that one…).

I’m still processing the why, really. But one thing I have a handle on is the outcome: a loneliness that robs joy.

There is a very deep longing for others to know – to know me, to know us. The real, broken, confused, and unfiltered. Joyful feelings found in a shell of who we are seem fleeting.

So friends, if you are in a rough season, take heart. Take heart in not being okay. Let’s sit together in the unfiltered.

“Abide with Me” (love the Sarah Groves version) – thinking of framing the whole song and putting it on every wall.

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.

There’s something comforting about the word “Abide.” Stand by/hold to/accept. It’s not very active, it just is. A simple act of “being with.”

Sometimes solutions are not readily available. Paths forward are not visible. There’s not always a filter strong enough to brighten darkness. So Lord, when comforts flee, abide with me. Sit with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour;
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s pow’r?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

Whether you have clouds or sunshine, may the Lord abide with you. If He made the rain, then why should we feel shame or fear in asking for an umbrella? And I’m here, if you just want to sit in the rain.