Category: Uncategorized

The Complexities of Love

Sunset and Trees Landscape Good Evening Quote

Several years ago, I remember getting a phone call right before dinner. I was juggling plates, loading up food, and sniffing the milk to make sure it was drinkable when I glanced down at the caller ID and immediately sighed. Ugh…what now? 

The person calling me was someone I had been ministering to for awhile. This person was trying to get back on the path that leads to life, but it was a very rocky road, and I simply did not have the time nor desire to be a hiking guide. Instead of embracing the opportunity to show the love of God to someone in need, I instead chose to ask God why he insisted on brining people into my life who needed to be shown that love in the first place. With my best impersonation of Alicia Silverstone’s Clueless performance, I rolled my eyes to the sky and said, “Like, you know, God, I to-tal-ly have my own life!”

Of course, God responded in equal measure and I’m pretty sure I heard him say, “Are you serious right now?” I put down the plates and picked up the phone.

Sometimes, love is hard. If I’m being honest, I don’t always want to put out the effort to love. Love is messy. Love is complicated. Love is uncomfortable. Love makes you vulnerable. Love takes time. Love requires intentionality. Love is unpredictable. Love is hard. Why didn’t Paul say any of that in 1st Corinthians? I suppose no one would want to hang it on their living room wall…

It’s true though…real love is work. It’s so much easier to talk about it than to do it. Take my eldest. He’s come up with about 1000 different screenplays over the years that he plans to put into development one day when he sets forth on his moviemaking life in LA. But, put a pen and paper in the guy’s hand and he suddenly has something much more pressing to do than work out the details of a script that is so much more fun to just talk about. Scriptwriting is a lot of work. Talking about a concept, pretty easy.

The thing is, Jesus was pretty clear about the easy life, and it’s not for us would-be Jesus followers. Jesus said, if you want to follow me, you’d better be ready to work.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.-2

Jesus says that we can’t truly follow him unless we’re ready to give up ourselves and focus on others. We have to put aside our own ambition, our own wants, our own plans, our own will, our own perspective at times in order to put love into action. Because our job is to follow Jesus, and Jesus doesn’t always take us on a beach vacation. Where Jesus goes, life is rough. Where Jesus goes, people are broken. Where Jesus goes, shadows threaten. But Jesus makes rough places plain. Jesus heals the broken spirits. Jesus casts out the darkness with the light of his love. And my friends, he invites us to follow him on this journey.

I’m ashamed to admit that when it comes to putting love in action, I often don’t want to follow. I don’t want to give up my time, my energy, or my dinner plans to follow Jesus somewhere or to someone who makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want to see the broken, or walk in the shadows. But then Jesus says, if you can’t put my love into action, then you can’t really follow me. And I want to follow Jesus. I want to follow Jesus because he is the way, and the truth, and the life.  I want to follow Jesus because I thrive in his presence. I want to follow Jesus because he gives my life purpose. So, I need to work more on talking less and walking more. I need to put Jesus’ love in action, so that others can know how great his love truly is.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Small Ties That Bind

This morning, I got out of bed and made my coffee. I said a prayer over my cup–my morning coffee prayer– asking, as I do each morning, that God will bless all of those whose hands have led to the cup being placed in my hands. I use the same phrases, call to mind the same images, as I go through the life cycle of a coffee bean. It’s a small ritual, but it’s one that grounds me in a big way. It reminds me that I am just a small part of something much larger, and that what I have and enjoy is not mine alone. Others have cultivated and nourished and shaped it, too, so at the end of its journey, when the coffee is poured into my cup, I feel a profound sense of gratitude for that first rich sip.

My coffee prayer is a ritual–a solemn rite that I engage in repeatedly, intentionally, in the same way, over and over again.

Often, when I think of ritual, I think of those big acts of worship that we engage in on Sunday mornings: communion, the Lord’s Prayer, the Apostles Creed, the Gloria Patri, the Doxology. And if I’m being honest, sometimes they get a little old (Apostles Creed, I’m looking at you!). If you asked me what I thought about rituals, in general, I would roll my eyes and give you my best 80’s Valley Girl “Uck–as IF! They’re so booooring!”

But this morning, as I pray over my coffee, I realize that I’ve got rituals all wrong. Rituals aren’t rote tasks that we complete on autopilot just because it’s something we’ve always done. Rather, they are intentional acts of worship that bring the divine and the earthly together in sacred communion. In going through the motions of ritual, we remind ourselves that what we are part of something bigger, something nobler, something stronger and more lasting than our little lives. Ritual is a beautiful mingling of past, present, and future. Our words and actions are familiar, having been taught and practiced over time, but they speak to us anew where we are right now, and they give us hope and stability for what is to come. There is comfort in ritual. And we create it, even if we think we’re opposed to it.

How do you order today? What are those intentional practices you engage in that give your tasks meaning? Maybe it’s a special prayer you say before each meal. Perhaps it’s going to the same space each day to meditate or read God’s word. It could be an early morning walk as you gaze at the wonder of a new day opening up, or a late night glance at the stars holding court in the night sky.

We all create rituals, and these small moments of the sacred infused into our day are the ties that bind us to God’s beloved kingdom. Rituals, whether practiced corporately or alone, build community. In the Gospels, we see Jesus pausing throughout his missionary journey to engage in rituals. There was the Lord’s Supper on the night before he was arrested, there was the reading of Scripture in the synagogues, and the mixing of mud and spit before a healing. Though Jesus’s ministry was itinerant, it was grounded by rituals both big and small. And it was the practice of those rituals which helped the disciples recognize Jesus upon his resurrection.

Rituals don’t have to be huge. We can practice them simply, quietly, in the midst of our busy days. They are a moment, however brief, to feel God’s loving presence, and to know that we are not alone.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

New Year, One Word 2025: Openness

Last night, as we were closing out 2024 with good friends around the table, sharing stories, food, and laughter, my husband posed this question: What are you most looking forward to in 2025?

These kinds of questions always stump me. They require some form of planning, which I’ve never been particularly good at. 2025 will definitely be a year of change in the Snyder household, as our eldest graduates high school this spring and begins to make his way into the world. And though I am excited to see what his future holds, I can’t say it’s what I’m most looking forward to this year. And so, I’m back to the original question, and my honest answer is simply this–I’m looking forward to seeing 2025 unfold and am open to all of the possibilities that it brings.

While it might seem blasé, or even a little trite, it’s the space in which I find myself on this New Year’s Day, and it truly fills me with excitement. I love looking into the future with no predetermined expectation or intention, because that, in my experience, is where God works best. God rarely looks at our calendars and picks a blank date in which to schedule a visit. Instead, he tends to throw our carefully planned itinerary out the window and invites us to step into the chaos of creation with him. There is so much possibility in that, if we are open to it…which leads me to my focus word for 2025: Openness.

I want to be open to all that God seeks to do in our lives this year. I want to be like the lake trout that I read about in Gayle Boss’s book of Advent reflections titled All Creation Waits. As Boss writes, the lake trout deposits her eggs among the rocky shoals of Lake Michigan and swims on, having done all that she can do while the eggs wait, “vital but dormant” until winter ends. Like the trout, I want to plant seeds this year that, while they might lie dormant for a time, will burst forth with life when God says it should be so. I want to be open to the fact that, while things might not go exactly as planned or hoped for this year, God is still doing a new thing, and, as the psalmist writes:

It always brings me immense comfort to reflect on the promises of God which have been fulfilled. Throughout Scripture, and in my own life, I see the goodness of his love manifested in the fulfillment of his promises. When God says he’ll do something, he does it. Though, admittedly, he and I often have a profoundly different sense of timing. Where I often respond in haste, God takes his time. He sees the bigger picture and, like any great artist, is willing to let his masterpiece unfold slowly, one brushstroke or typed phrase at a time.

For me, being open to what God is doing means waiting and watching. It means listening more and thinking before responding in situations. It means not rolling my eyes when new initiatives come around at work, and not bristling with indignation when someone suggests a change to how we always do things at home, or work, or church. Openness, for me, means being willing to put forth ideas, and then to let those ideas go if someone has a better one. It means connecting with others, even if I’d rather stay home and read a book, and engaging in tasks that I don’t like but that make a difference to someone else. Above all, openness means actively seeking those places where God is working and being willing to work with him, even if the work wasn’t something that I had planned or initiated or even find interesting.

I have no idea what 2025 will bring….there will be laughter, and likely some tears; there will be new beginnings, as well as bittersweet endings; people will come into our lives, and others will depart; we will have adventures, both planned and unexpected, and we will be faced with challenges both big and small. But if we are open to God’s working in our lives, if we are willing to put in the work to plant the seeds rather than just partaking of the harvest, what wonders might we behold?

It’s a new year, and God is doing a new thing. Though the news might be bleak, though the hearts of some might be sad and the spirits of others might be shaken, though some might be looking to the new year with hope and a sense of promise, and others with trepidation, one thing is certain:

God’s not done yet.

2025 is open….are you open to what God will do within it?

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

A Time for Wonder

Today, we find ourselves entering the home stretch of the Advent season. Christmas is in two days and, per usual, I am in manic mode. There are gifts to finish purchasing, stockings to stuff, menus to plan, and goodies to bake. In all of my self-inflicted hustle and bustle, I sometimes forget to pause and reflect on why we celebrate Christmas in the first place. Holidays can easily devolve from celebrations to chores if we’re not careful, and there are times I have teetered on that ledge–or nose-dived right off it!

So now, I’m reflecting on the writings of the minor prophets: specifically, the books of Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi. These three prophets lived and worked in the post-exilic period, after the Israelites had returned from Babylon. There was a lot of work to do–the land was in ruins. So this group devoted themselves to putting the pieces of their nation back together. It was busy work and, as happens in the midst of busyness, the people were neglecting God again. The prophets were there to remind them that, although the work of rebuilding the nation of Israel was important, most important was their continued faithfulness to God and his law. Kind of like our to-do lists, right?

And yet, I have found, that when we set aside our “must…keep…pushing…through” items and focus our souls on God, he shows up in such unexpected and remarkable ways that we can’t help but, as the hymn proclaims, stand in awesome wonder. Last year, about this time, a moment of awesome wonder came in my kitchen as I was sitting on the little wooden step stool my husband’s grandfather made long ago and which has become my Bible time stool. I was reading through the book of Malachi. Like his contemporaries Haggai and Zechariah, Malachi was urging the people to remain faithful to God, and chastising them for prioritizing other tasks and only giving God the left-overs of their daily lives. But Malachi was also speaking beyond the present, prophesying a time to come when God would judge between the faithful and the faithless, setting aside a people to call his own. Chapter four of Malachi ends this proclamation:

#saramsnyder.com

I quickly turned the page to see what would happen next, and was flummoxed to discover that there were no more words. What?! I thought to myself. That’s it? Truth be told, there’s one more verse–it says God will come and strike the land with total destruction. (Malachi 4:6) Quite the exclamation point! But I want to focus on the proclamation–the promise of Elijah before the day of the Lord’s arrival.

As I flipped ahead through the next several pages of historical commentary in my Bible, somewhat disgruntled by the lack of resolution on the author’s part, it dawned on me…Malachi ends abruptly because the story’s not done. Flipping quickly to the book of Matthew I sat, stunned, as I looked at the words before me. For the first time ever, I was awed, not by God’s word, but by a genealogical list of names.

Normally, when it comes to biblical genealogy, I just skim through it. But what stunned me, what awed me, weren’t the names themselves, but the fact that God had been continuing the story for generations, even after the prophets in Scripture had gone silent. Malachi spoke of the coming of Elijah in 430 B.C., and in the first-written synoptic gospel around 60 A.D., we have John the Baptist, an Elijah-like figure, living in the Judea wilderness and preaching a gospel of repentance in preparation for the coming of the Lord.

The final word in the Old Testament is a promise of the Lord’s coming. Then there’s silence. Time moves on. One generation gives way to the next. Nations rise and fall. Yet the minutiae of life keeps moving, like a time-lapse video, different figures blurring together as they move in an out of the same scene. Years pass…hundreds of them in which people are born, in which they live and laugh and love and cry, in which they die and are laid to rest with all of those who have gone before. And the Earth keeps turning.

It’s quiet. It’s ordinary. Until one day, in an ordinary time in an ordinary place, an angel delivers a message to a young man and a young woman that will change everything. While many people had long ago stopped expecting God’s promises to be fulfilled, God hadn’t forgotten. From Malachi to Matthew (and Mark and Luke) God had a plan, and what we celebrate at Christmas is the fulfillment of that plan.

#saramsnyder.com

This, then, is what fills me with awe. That God came in a moment when it was least expected–in a time when many had likely written off his promise of a messiah as a myth or legend–a story of hope to be shared, but not really to be anticipated. God continued the story…for thousands of years! And it’s a story he’s continuing to write–his words etched into the hearts of all those who love him–his promises yet to be fulfilled.

As the shepherds did on a night long ago, I stand (or sit) in awesome wonder of God’s work. I’m overwhelmed by the depth and breadth of his faithfulness. For me, this Christmas is about hope. The hope that God is faithful, that all of his promises will come to fruition in his time and in his way. God never gives up. He came when everyone least expected it, and in a way that no one could have foretold.

My prayer for you as we enter the Christmas season is that you, too, will have an experience of God that leaves you standing in awesome wonder. Are you looking? Are you waiting? Fear not! God will come.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Searching for the Light in Advent

unpacking

As Advent is fully upon us once more, I thought this repost from 2016 an appropriate expression of the hope we yearn for this season. As Jesus told his disciples so long ago…the light has come, and darkness cannot put it out.

Wishing you warmth and light this season…

“Do you know where the gloves got put?”

“Which box is our comforter in?”

“Do I have any pants?”

These are the questions I field at least once a week since we moved in June.  With each request, I go searching through the house–looking into random closets, digging into partially opened tubs and boxes and rummaging around shelves I can’t see the tops of.  Eventually I find that pants are on top of a dresser, the comforter is in a vacuum sealed bag and gloves, well, it’s not that cold yet.

The searching in our house these past few months has been reflected in my spirit, too.  I seem stuck in a cycle of perpetual searching.  I’m searching to find my place in a new community, searching to define myself as an author, searching to establish myself in a new career, and even searching to figure out who I am now that I’m 40.

I have to be honest, searching for gloves, comforters and pants is a lot easier.

I feel like, after a season of mountaintop living, I have been thrust back into the wilderness.  I’m trying to find the light of God’s leading, but there are no bushes ablaze around me.  There’s no pillar of fire going before me into the darkness pointing east or west.  There’s just me kicking up sand and wondering if I’ve passed this rock before.

wilderness

Lent has traditionally been the time for wilderness wanderings; however, Advent finds us in the wilderness, too.   Jesus didn’t enter into a world festooned with mistletoe and holly.  He entered humanity in a time of violence, fear, uncertainty and injustice.  He came when people were seeking a light to dispel the darkness of poverty, injustice and oppression.  He came when people were seeking hope.

The world hasn’t changed much since Jesus first came.  We might string mistletoe and holly more freely around our homes, but there is still violence, still fear, still uncertainty, still injustice.  Like the people of Jesus’ time, we are still seeking a light to dispel the darkness of the world around us.

Advent provides us with the opportunity to wait, in hopeful expectation, for the Light of the World to come.  And come he will, because he’s always been there.

lantern

In the beginning was the Word
and the Word was with God
and the Word was God.
The Word was with God in the beginning.
Everything came into being through the Word,
and without the Word
nothing came into being.
What came into being
through the Word was life,[a]
and the life was the light for all people.
The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness doesn’t extinguish the light. John 1:1-5 (CEB)

Whatever you find yourself searching for this Advent, embrace the uncertainty of finding it.  Give yourself over to God’s work in your life.  Wait in hopeful expectation for the Light that was, is and will come.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

On Faith and Politics

Today, we are one week out from the 2024 presidential election. Many people I’ve spoken with are feeling an inordinate amount of anxiety about this presidential race, and who can blame them, with both parties catastrophizing the outcome. I’m mostly sad and disappointed, and I’m tired of the fact that we seem to be acting like a nation of toddlers. But as I look back at our past, it seems we were always this way.

As an amateur historian, I find that history grounds me, especially in our current age of aggrandizing every event into the most whatever thing that’s ever happened. American politics has always been a hot mess, and elections haven’t always been peaceable or straightforward. In the election of 1800, for instance, a deadlocked House of Representatives couldn’t reach an agreement on who should become president. Mobs formed in the streets and the governors of Virginia and Pennsylvania began readying their militias for action before the politicians were able to get it together and elect Thomas Jefferson. In 1828, four Democratic-Republicans ran against each other for the top job, splitting electoral votes and forcing the election (again) to the House of Representatives, who made a so-called “corrupt bargain” and installed JQ Adams rather than Andrew Jackson as president, even though Jackson had won the popular vote. Then, of course, there was the election of 1860, which resulted in an entire swath of the nation seceding from the Union and a nearly 5-year-long bloodbath that we call the Civil War.

I’ve said many times in this space that, in my opinion, the biggest threat to our contemporary church in the United States is the politicalization of our faith. We have made an idol of politics, worshiping the doctrine of political parties and seeking salvation in elected leaders. But the thing is, Jesus wasn’t interested in politics….at least, not politics in the traditional sense of the word. In both word and deed, Jesus sought to bring the good news of God’s salvation to all people, tearing down systems of oppression in the process.

Jesus didn’t mess with political campaigns. He didn’t seek out political leaders, nor did he attempt to make himself a space in the political sphere. It’s not that Jesus wasn’t aware of what was happening politically, or that he didn’t care. He just understood that there was something bigger.

In Matthew 11, John the Baptist sends some of his disciples to speak with Jesus. John had spent his entire adult life preparing the way for the Messiah. He had preached a gospel of repentance, leading people into the wilderness to pray and learn and fast and be baptized. He had witnessed that divine moment when Jesus rose from the Jordan River and God had claimed him as his one and only son. But time has passed. Things were not great on the ground in Judea. The Romans were still oppressive, there was still massive inequality, the religious leaders were still hypocrites, and John himself was languishing in prison. Beaten, broken, sensing the end of his time drawing near, John implores Jesus to bring him peace of mind. Are you really the promised Messiah? John asks. Or should we keep looking?

It’s a simple yes or no question, right? But Jesus doesn’t really do yes or no. Instead of affirming John’s query and easing his troubled mind, Jesus tells John’s disciples to….

I love this response, because it’s such a teacherly thing to do. John wants Jesus to tell him what he wants to hear. But Jesus cares too much about John to do that. Instead, Jesus says, watch me.

Watch me. Look at what I’m doing. See the difference it is making. Where there was sickness, there is healing. Where there was death, there is life. Where there was despair, there is hope. Watch me. Then determine for yourself if I am who you think I am.

There are a lot of politicians who claim the name of Jesus in their rhetoric, but I would argue that if their message isn’t bringing healing, life, and hope, then they are not really following in Jesus’ footsteps. And the same is true for us. If our words, whether in person or online, and if our actions are not bringing healing, life, and hope to others, then we have veered wildly from the path which Jesus calls us to follow. We cannot espouse vitriol in one breath and love of Christ in another. That’s not the way it works. If we’re watching Jesus, then our lives should look a little different.

In the book of John, Jesus puts it this way:

Jesus tells his disciples that they should be characterized by love…but not the Hallmark movie kind of love…. but the Jesus kind of love. Jesus gave himself to us courageously, determinedly, trustingly, full-bodily, continuously, selflessly, single-mindedly so that others could experience healing, life, and hope. And if we are to be his disciples, then we must watch, learn, and do likewise.

So next Tuesday, we should vote. But we should also do some kingdom work. Volunteer for an hour or so at a food pantry. Visit someone in the hospital. Check in with a neighbor. Hand out blessing bags to those in need. Send a note of encouragement to someone who is struggling. Post your favorite Scripture verse to your favorite social media site. Pay for someone’s groceries. Let’s let others know that there’s something greater than politics at work in our lives, and that the same grace and love we share can be theirs, as well.

In her book, Savor: Living Abundantly Where You Are, As You Are, author Shauna Niequist writes of the role that the church (and its people) should play in our world. She says, “The church is at its best…when it is more than a set of ideas and ideals, when it is a working, living, breathing, on-the-ground, in-the-mess force for good in our cities and towns.”

In this season of political uncertainty, let’s be the body of Christ for a nation and world in need. Watch Jesus. Then follow his lead.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Thomas Nelson Bible Roundup: Kids, Max Lucado, and Pretty in Purple

As most of you know, I LOVE Bibles! I love the heavy weight of a Bible in my hands as I sit and study Scripture. I love the crinkly sound of tissue-thin pages being turned, and the sharp smell of paper mingling with ink that wafts up as one page gives way to another. Reading the Bible is an act of communion for me–it is, at the same time, both tactile and ethereal–a mingling of body, soul, and mind as I read, reflect, write, and converse with God. So, I’m always excited when Thomas Nelson sends out the next round of Bibles to be reviewed. Not only do I get to sample different versions of our faith’s guiding text, but I get to share them with others!

Here is the latest Thomas Nelson Bible Roundup.

Pros: This Bible has several features that can help kids relate to the text, including profiles of people in Scripture, definitions of words like genealogy, and action articles that help kids practice their faith in the real world.

Cons: Like many kids’ Bibles, it doesn’t fully address the fact that Bible literacy is tough for kids. While the explanatory articles are great, asking kids to read more when they’re already struggling to comprehend could be a deal-breaker for many of them. It’s very text-heavy, with few pictures or illustrations, which is also tough for kids, and some of the “Live It” commentaries are pithy.

Overall: This is an okay study Bible option for upper elementary and middle grade readers. I would be inclined to use it in a small group or Sunday school setting. However, I feel like it trivializes some big questions of faith that kids are perfectly capable of thinking and talking about.

Pros: If you’re a fan of Max Lucado’s work, then you will love this Bible. It breaks the text into daily readings so you can get through the Bible in a year, and it includes short reflections on Scripture passages by Lucado himself.

Cons: Because you’re going through the Bible in one year, the reading is not light. You’ll need a dedicated chunk of time each day to get it done. Also, the writings from Lucado are pulled from his published work–so, no new content.

Overall: A great choice for Lucado fans, or those interested in tackling the Bible from cover to cover in on year.

Pros: This Bible is all about the beauty. From the gold filigree and stamped leather markings on the cover, to the gorgeous text type within, there’s a reason this is the publisher’s “Sovereign Collection.” I love that, textually, this Bible is no-frills. There are no reflections, commentaries, spotlights, etc., which makes the Bible light and portable. I can easily see myself popping this Bible into a bag and hitting the road. Plus, because there aren’t a lot of extra features inside, there’s plenty of room in the margins for note-taking.

Cons: There aren’t extra features included in this Bible, so if you want reflections or commentary, you’re going to need to look elsewhere. And, it’s pricier than the other Bibles in this review.

Overall: I love this one. It’s both light and sturdy, which makes it a great Bible to carry around. And it’s beautiful.

No matter the Bible you choose, spending time in God’s Word is paramount to faith development. It’s a way to connect with our Creator, and to better understand who he is, and who we are in relation to him.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

On Labor and Rest

Labor Day. For many Americans, it is summer’s last hurrah. There are cookouts and campouts, pool parties and beach retreats, baseball games and backyard corn hole. Labor Day is a chance to bask in the sun and be free from the worries of work for a bit–that is, of course, if you have the day off. But Labor Day didn’t begin as a paid vacation day. In fact, it started because there were no paid vacation days…or…for that matter…vacation days in general.

As the Industrial Revolution exploded across the country, more and more was demanded from the workers who kept the great machine of industry and profit thrumming. Most factory workers were paid a scant wage for their work, which was often grueling and dangerous. Conditions in factories were abysmal–poor lighting, little ventilation, lots of dirt and soot, overcrowded–and most workers put in at least 12 hours each day, seven days a week, with no breaks or time off. By the late 1800s, conditions for workers had become untenable, especially when faced with the fact that corporate bosses were making huge profits and wanting for nothing while the workers themselves barely eked out a living. Things came to a head on September 5, 1882. On that day, about 10,000 workers from across New York City walked off the job and staged a demonstration demanding fewer hours and better pay.

Eleven years later, Congress honored this act by declaring the first Monday in September to be a national holiday–Labor Day. Of course, this was not the end of the fight for workers’ rights. Where there is money to be made, there will always be inequity, and many American laborers still struggle with long hours, low pay, and inadequate benefits.

Like most things in society, our practices of work and the treatment of workers is not really what God had in mind for his people. While hard work is a major tenant of Scripture, both in the New and Old Testaments, so is rest. From the very beginning, God modeled how we are to approach the work-life balance–God created, then celebrated his creation. God created, then celebrated his creation. God created, then celebrated his creation. This happened three more times. And then, he took an entire day (whatever that equaled) to fully rest from the work of creating new things.

As the people of Israel become a nation, God instructed them to follow his example. But his instructions went beyond a Sabbath each week. He also mandated times of rest during major festivals, like in this passage from Leviticus.

The people of Israel were to take off work in order to celebrate and worship. And the beautiful part of this call is that God extended it to everyone living with the Israelites–regardless of where they had come from or what their social status was. Everyone was to rest. Everyone was to celebrate. Everyone was to worship.

As Christians, we need to do a better job of modeling God’s desire for a true balance between work and rest. I can’t tell you what that looks like in your life, but for me, it’s allowing myself time to just be and breathe and practice holy stillness. It’s taking that extra 15 minutes or so in the morning to sit and converse with God before diving into the work of the day. It’s remembering to stop and give thanks as the day winds down for all of the blessings God has extended to me this day. It’s making time to pause from the tasks on the list to be fully present and really interact with the people I love. Work. Rest. Celebrate. Worship. These are the rhythms around which I want to order my days.

What rhythms of work and rest do you need in your life? And how might we advocate so that others can find those rhythms, too?

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

Facing the Cringeworthy

Several years ago, I threw a huge temper tantrum at an airport. I’m talking a massive, dig my heels in, I’m getting on that plane with however many bags I want and just go ahead and call security temper tantrum. In my defense, the TSA agent was being a bit of a bully, insisting my bag was too big to carry on when another woman dragging what looked like a steamer trunk behind her had just boarded. Fortunately, my husband stepped in and saved me from going to airport jail (and perhaps being added to the No Fly list), and as my temper cooled, I cringed. Shame overtook my indignation, and I spent the rest of the flight cowering under its fierce gaze, apologizing to my husband over and over for being such an embarrassment.

Shame–what a horrible word–and what a terrible feeling. But if I’m honest, it’s one that I let consume me more than I care to admit. I don’t know why I’ve always struggled with shame. There was no one defining moment, no discernible tear in my soul that let the insidious, slithering, specter in. It’s just always been there…perhaps the consequence of being an American woman…but you can unpack that however you wish.

Unfortunately, the Church has too often been a harbinger of shame throughout its storied history. If you do X, then a fiery end awaits, and I get the logic. It was the best leaders could do to keep people on the right path, although I don’t think it was ever really effective. Perhaps that’s why Jesus chose a different route when spreading his message of salvation. While he didn’t shy away from clarifying the consequences of one’s actions, especially as they apply to hypocrisy, injustice, and denial of God’s love, he also didn’t promote a gospel of shame. Rather, Jesus wanted people to know that they were accepted, just as they were. They didn’t have to be worthy, because he was going to take care of that for them. In opening their hearts to him, Jesus made them worthy.

I love this passage of Scripture, because I certainly understand weary. As a people pleaser, I spend so much time and energy twisting myself round and round to become whatever I think people want me to be. And when I inevitably fall apart, shame takes over so that I find myself apologizing over and over for the dumbest things–things that shouldn’t require an apology.

I apologize for dinner being late, for my kids not having clean pants, for my giant puppy acting like a puppy, for someone bumping into me at the store, for my son accidentally running into a pole at the drive-thru, for expressing an opinion, for not expressing an opinion, for my hair being unbrushed in an online meeting…honestly, the list could go on, but just these few examples are enough to make me cringe and feel the itchiness of anxiety begin.

This is what shame does–it takes away our joy so that all we feel is anxiety, which, for me, compounds in a whirlwind of unhelpful thoughts. Shame eggs on my anxiety, pushing her to spin in chaos and leaving me feeling like I’m perpetually failing–as a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a parent, a writer, a child of God.

Thankfully, we have a God who has a pretty good track record when it comes to breaking chains, both physical and psychological. I think Jesus’s encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well is a beautiful example of this. There she is, alone in the heat of the day, intentionally gathering water at a time when no one will be there so she doesn’t have to deal with the knowing looks, condescending glances, and snide asides of the other women in her community. Instead, she can simply breathe.

But then she sees someone approaching from a distance–a man–who seems to be making a beeline for the well. Perhaps she tried to hurry her task along to avoid a potentially negative encounter, but suddenly Jesus was there and she was stuck, awkwardly trying to keep her eyes on the bottom of the well. How long do you think they stayed there in that uncomfortable silence–Jesus assessing her heart while she longed to be home away from his prying eyes? But Jesus wasn’t content to let her carry her shame any farther, and so he spoke, asking her for a drink. The woman must have been a bit startled by Jesus’s request, because her response was not polite. Was she afraid? Did she think this was some kind of trick? Was she fearful of this odd man who showed up at a well in the middle of the day with no cup or jar?

Whatever she felt, Jesus wasn’t going to let it go. He saw the way that shame had captured her spirit, and so, he set it free. Jesus named her shame, refusing to let it linger in the dark recesses of her heart, and then he used his living water to wash it away.

What happens next is truly remarkable. God replaced the woman’s shame with joy, and it overflowed from the wellspring of her soul to others. This woman, whom shame had isolated, became a vessel of God’s grace and love. Now unbound, she ran to tell others about Jesus–going straight to those same people shame had taught her to avoid–and declaring God’s salvation.

As I think about the woman at the well, I wonder: Why do I let shame keep me bound? Why do I worry so much about what others think? Jesus promises streams of living water full of his life-sustaining love. Joy and abundance are there for the taking, so why would I let shame keep me from it?

Here’s the truth of my shame: I am not perfect. I make mistakes. I don’t like everyone, but I want everyone to like me. I sometimes choose wrong things. And I am not always kind–in fact, I can be quite judgmental. I often trust in my own knowledge above all else, and I think TikTok and other social media outlets are making us dumber. I’m impatient and self-centered, and often prefer easy things to hard. But…God knows all of this about me. And he doesn’t ask me to hide myself away because of it. Instead, he wants to sweep it away in the flood of his love, just as he did for the woman at the well. Why would he do that?

Because God wants me (and you) to be a vessel that carries his good news of great joy that shall be for all people to others. So this week (month, year, decade), I’m going to try and stop apologizing so much. I’m going to try to push past the shame that will inevitably arise when I undoubtedly fail at something and to start living with joy. Would you like to join me?

Blessings and Peace,

Sara