I love January. It’s cold and quiet is a welcome respite after the jangling hustle and bustle of the holidays. Sometimes it snows, transforming the grey and boring landscape into something sparkling and wonderful. On those days, everything comes to a full stop. We stay in pajamas and grab our blankets, cups of coffee or cocoa or tea, a good book or movie or board game, and take time to just be. And in the being, we have time to think…to consider…to dream. January, in its quiet possibility, reminds us that we don’t ever just remain what we are–we can grow–we can adopt new habits, set new goals, seek self-improvement. And for people of faith, it is a reminder of God’s graciousness, because the one who knit us together in our mother’s womb is still creating.

God doesn’t ever let us be. He is, as C.S. Lewis wrote, the “great hound of heaven” (or, if you rather Anne LaMott’s description–a stray tom cat yowling at the front door.) As Paul writes in Romans 8, God had a plan for us in the dawn of time. Millions of years before the first person would ever set foot on Earth, centuries before our ancestors began putting down roots, decades before our parents even considered the next generation, God was working in our lives to write his redemptive story.

God sees the possibility in our lives. He knows where we’re going, even if it doesn’t always seem clear to us. He knows the obstacles that will stand in our way, and is ready to hold us when the journey becomes too much. He’s there, every step of the way, teaching us and mentoring us–fashioning us in his image–not the one we see in the mirror–hand held out, inviting us to follow. God offers the gift of possibility. 

So, what possibility is God speaking into your life this year? What dreams is he whispering into your soul? If you’re like me, I bet some of them are pretty daunting. In my experience, God likes a big project–something I could never accomplish on my own. Like writing a book. Or pursuing a degree. Sponsoring a ministry. Even embarking on a new career path. Possibility can seem impossible, until God steps into the room. As Jesus told his disciples:

I don’t know how God will work out the possibilities he’s offering in your life. But I know it will be wondrous and surprising–surpassing all you could dream or imagine. My life at 46 is vastly different from the life I was working toward at 26…yet it is also infinitely better. When I accepted God’s call of possibility, it changed my life for the better, even if it wasn’t anything I had planned.

This January, as you contemplate change, take some time to lean into God’s possibility for your story. When we step into God’s possibility, we see the world (and ourselves) through his eyes, moving beyond who we are into who God calls us to be. Are you ready?

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

For several days this fall, I awoke with Phil Wickham’s beautiful hymn “Reason I Sing” playing through my head. If you haven’t heard it, take a listen here. I remember one morning in particular, when I was standing on the front porch watching the puppy run amok. The light was still new–you know–that happy pale yellow that makes everything look like an Instagram pic, and the sky was that perfect cerulean blue that only comes when summer is waning into fall. I remember looking at our bushes–which are big and unruly and always make me want to grab a shovel and start digging them out, and humming the chorus of Wickham’s song, when I had the unmistakeable awareness of the presence of the holy diffusing itself all around me.

Before you get all excited about some modern-day burning bush story that ends with me uprooting my family and heading to Egypt, let me clarify that I didn’t see my bushes on fire (though if they HAD been…never mind). No, in that moment of holy hello the overwhelming feeling that bubbled up inside of me was gratitude. I began thinking about all of the reasons I had to sing: breath in my lungs, a roof over my head, family peacefully slumbering inside, good friends to share the journey with, food on my table, work that I love….but mostly, that there is a God who created all things, who is full of love and mercy, and who calls me his own. And so, in that moment, the song I had awoken singing became a prayer of thanksgiving to the One who calls me beloved.

Gratitude is a powerful thing. I’m not talking about the merely polite “thank yous” we dole out when someone holds a door, hands us a receipt, or refills our water. I’m talking about that deep-from-your-soul spring of praise that bubbles up when you realize that you are walking with a holy presence, and the very fact that He IS means you are blessed. Maybe not materially, maybe not in health, maybe not financially, maybe not in peace…but for sure in the secure knowledge that you are held by the One who created the heavens and the earth and who holds eternity in his hands. And that is our hope. And that is our joy. And that, Wickham writes, is reason to sing.

That’s not to dismiss the horrors of the world–of which there are many. My heart breaks for the people of Israel, Gaza, Sudan, and Ukraine, especially the children whose lives are being ripped apart by unimaginable violence. I ache for those friends who are in the midst of the valley of the shadow of death–whether it be a physical loss of someone held dear, the end of a relationship, or a sudden change in life’s circumstance. But the fact that there is pain and suffering in the world shouldn’t diminish our capacity for gratitude, or cause us to cease lifting our voices in praise. On the contrary, I think, as God’s people, we are called to stand in front of that yawning pit of darkness and to fight it by lifting our voices together in a song of praise to the one who will make all things new.

Being grateful for what God has done in our lives doesn’t mean we’re ignoring the pain….it just means we’re choosing to put our hope in something more than that which can be found on Earth. And we know where that hope leads. It carries us to eternal joy, which is so much more than temporal happiness.

So this week, as we gather with loved ones to share a meal in a season meant for giving thanks, let’s lift our souls in songs of praise to the one who journeys with us, faithfully holding our hands as we navigate a road that can be broken, muddy, covered in boulders, hilly, and sometimes dark, knowing that he will lead us to where we need to be.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara

As many of you know, I love Scripture. It’s how God and I connect on a day-to-day basis. As I read, I feel like I’m having a conversation with God, and it both fills and enriches me. Recently, I’ve also been turning to the words of those who have come before–some of those in the great cloud of witnesses Hebrews references. These are scholars, theologians, and church leaders who have helped to shape the Christian faith over the past few millenia. So, I was very excited when, as part of Bible Gateway’s Blogger Grid, I was offered the opportunity to review a free copy of the new Bible featuring the writings of some of these faith founders.

Called the Timeless Truths Bible, it is written in the New English Translation and features insight from leaders like John Wesley, Martin Luther, Augustine, and Charles Spurgeon. According to the publisher, the Timeless Truths Bible: “will encourage you through the always timely wisdom of those who came before us. Devotional notes and commentary from trusted theologians and pastors from the second century up to the twentieth will stir your affections. The ancient creeds and confessions of the faith will grow your understanding of what we believe—and have always believed. And artwork created throughout the history of Christianity will deepen your worship of the one we call Lord.”

Also included are:

• Margin notes featuring devotional and theological commentary from notable figures throughout church history including Irenaeus, Justin Martyr, Augustine, Martin Luther, Ulrich Zwingli, Origen, John Wesley, Charles Spurgeon, John Bunyan, and John Calvin.
• Forty-six full-page biographies of church leaders
• The complete text of some of the creeds and confessions of the Christian faith that have shaped our beliefs for generations, including:
  • The Apostles’ Creed
  • The Nicene Creed
  • The Chalcedonian Definition
  • The Athanasian Creed
  • The Augsburg Confession
  • The Belgic Confession
  • The Westminster Catechism
  • The Lausanne Covenant
• Book introductions for every book of the Bible
• Full-color tip-in pages of artwork from the history of Christianity

As I’ve dug into these texts over the past week or so, I’m reminded that we do not walk this road of faith alone, and the insights and understandings shared from brothers and sisters over time both enrich and renew me. Reading their words, I feel more connected to a global faith, and feel an even greater responsibility to pass it to the next generation. This Bible is a through-line of faith, linking past and present. And though it is highly male-centric, leaving out the voices of faith-mothers like Susannah Wesley, Julian of Norwich, and Teresa of Avila, it is a remarkable resource that can help us unpack the timeless truths of Scripture and make them relevant to a new generation.

You can find the Timeless Truths Bible here or on Amazon.

Last week, in the middle of an aisle at Sam’s Club, I felt the warning signs of an impending anxiety attack. As I stared at my cart piled to the brim with boxes and tubs and pre-packaged everything, my heart began to pound and my temperature rose, then cooled, while the pit that often lays dormant my core began to open and gnash its pointy teeth.

“Is this enough?” I wondered. “Will everyone have enough to eat? Maybe we need a greater variety of chips? Do we need more drinks? And what about dessert? We can’t run out of dessert. But we’re already spending a lot of money. I shouldn’t spend anymore, right?” With everything pounding inside and a sinking feeling spirit, I headed to the checkout where I handed over both my debit card and my goods–feeling terrible about both.

This, my friends, is what it’s like to live in a culture of scarcity. Nothing is ever enough, and all that we have in abundance is anxiety. I know you can relate. It’s how we roll in the western world. Marketers tell us that we need to buy something fast because those shoes won’t be on sale next week and the Pumpkin Spice Latte only lasts for a season. We’re taught to consume it all before it’s gone–YOLO, am I right–while at the same time being told to hoard everything in case you need it down the road. It’s no wonder a trip to the grocery store often feels like stepping into the Hunger Games arena!

But it’s not just about finite resources. We have the same scarcity principle of time–cramming our calendars to overflowing so as not to miss out on something, while bemoaning our lack of time to do the things we truly enjoy. In our minds, everything can become nothing in the blink of an eye…so we perpetually focus on the not enough.

Like most things in our world, the scarcity deficit from which we operate is the complete opposite of what God envisioned for his kingdom. Consider this passage from Psalm 36.

I love the imagery here–how God calls us not to amble over for a light pre-game snack, but to run and eat our fill of heaven’s bounty while quenching our thirst from Eden’s own spring! There is no scarcity in God’s realm…there is only fulfillment. Need more proof?

Consider the creation story, when God caused light to burst into the void that was the Earth, then brought forth lush vegetation, waters teeming with life, and a myriad of creatures roaming the land. Or Abram, whom God called to marvel at the fullness of the night sky, then said that Abram’s offspring would outnumber even the vastness of these celestial jewels. Later, as Abram’s offspring wandered the wilderness and wondered what was for dinner, God made sure their bellies were full of heavenly bread and succulent meat. Then there is Ruth, who gleaned in a field in expectation of finding meager sustenance, only to have Boaz instruct his workers to leave piles of wheat for her to gather. And can we forget the woman at the well, whom Jesus promised streams of living water so that she would never thirst again?

Our God is abundant. There is no scarcity to be found in his work, in his love, in his mercy, in his grace. So why do we choose to live as if there is a deficit? Why do we insist that we don’t have enough when we worship a God whose very nature is one of generous giving. God gives–fully, completely, abundantly. There is enough…for…all…people.

There are those in this world for whom scarcity is a real and life-threatening situation. But it doesn’t have to be this way. God teaches us that there is enough–he made enough–so that all might have an abundant life. And guess what? He’s calling you and me to be his agents of generosity! We don’t need to grab all we can while we can because God has promised that he will give us what we need when we need it. I love the way John puts it:

Instead of thinking about all we lack when God comes knocking on the door to our hearts, what if we choose to focus on all that God can offer? What if we say:

Yes! I will give one hour a week to a kid who needs a caring adult to talk to, knowing that God will make the time multiply.

Yes! I will commit to tithing ten percent of my income, knowing that God will ensure I have enough left over to support my family.

Yes! I will contribute to a holiday drive knowing that my resources will add abundantly to those of others in order to bless someone else.

Yes! I will sign up to help with that new ministry at church God has been bugging me about, knowing that he will open doors and make a way where I see only obstacles.

Yes! I will take the time to check in on a friend or neighbor, knowing that the joy of fellowship will fill me far more than whatever else I would have consumed in those minutes.

God gives us gift after gift. So, this week, try to consciously avoid the mindset of scarcity. Instead, give your fears, what-ifs, and doubt to a God who has more than enough to meet your every need.

Blessings and Peace

Sara

A few months ago, we brought a new family member into our lives. This is Roxie–a now 4-month-old Great Dane pup. And while she looks pretty docile in this photo…looks can be decieving.

Puppies, like children, disrupt everything. When Roxie entered, routines were smashed in a frenzy of jumping, biting, snuggling, and potty breaks. I quickly discovered that her morning zoomies happened to coincide with my daily quiet time. Before Roxie, I meditated on God’s word sitting on a step stool in the kitchen–opening my soul and senses to the presence of the Holy as coffee brewed and the house slowly awakened. After she arrived, I stubbornly attempted to cling white-knuckled to my old routine. This is what I do each morning. This is how I worship God, and nothing is going to change that, no matter how many times a puppy comes crashing through the kitchen.

You can guess how that worked out. A typical beginning to my prayer time would go something like this: God, as I still my thoughts before you…”Roxie! Drop it!!”…As I enter prayer now…”Get off of that chair!”…God, would you open my heart to…”Ow! No bite!! Let go–I said let GO!”

Frustrated at my lack of progress, I decided to do what many people do when change is thrust upon them–I quit. If I couldn’t meet God on my terms, then I decided I just wouldn’t meet him at all.

While completely irrational and contrary to everything I know to be true, my stubborn spirit was unrelenting. It’s like the question the psalmist asks in Psalm 11:3. I justified it to myself by saying, It’s just a season. I’ll pick up where I left off when she’s older. God, however, felt otherwise.

Over the past few weeks, God has been whispering into my soul. His words are simple and logical. He says, “You can find new places and spaces in your life to be with me.”

Yet as a creature of habit, I resist these kinds of messages. While I think change is fine for other people, I really am not interested in practicing it myself. My stool is a venerated object–the kitchen my sacred space–the end. But here’s the thing God is teaching me: Anyplace is sacred once God enters in. Think about where you worship God. Is it really limited to one concrete place? When I’m being honest, I can recognize that I have worshiped God by campfires, in cars, on airplanes, in the shower, at huge events, and in the darkness of my bedroom at night. Experiencing God is not a function of place, but of purpose. And it’s not predicated on what worked in the past, but on where we find ourselves in the present.

While most of us resist it, life is change. Seasons come and go. We grow and evolve. Hopefully we mature. We experience new things that broaden our minds and enhance our understanding. But too often, as people of faith, we tie ourselves to the past and refuse to move forward. There’s comfort and familiarity in the way we’ve always done something–but it’s not realistic or sustainable. We don’t worship a God who lives in the past, but one who is moving and acting and saving in the present. He’s ready and eager to meet us wherever we are. As Psalm 11 continues…

The Lord is always in his holy temple, so we don’t need to get caught up in ideas of place or space. God will meet us wherever we are, in whatever season we’re in, to fill us up so that we can go forth and serve in his name. This week, give thanks for all of the things you loved in the past, including those special places where you encountered God. Then, take a deep breath, and walk with anticipation with God (and maybe a puppy) into the future.

Blessings and Peace

Sara

As I write this today, any number of awful things are happening in the world. Communities have been devastated by fire, flood, and wind. Wars rage, violence erupts on city streets, governments that are supposed to protect oppress instead. Tragedy strikes, grief lingers, jobs are lost, and doctors can offer little to ease the mind. Sometimes, it doesn’t seem like God likes us very much, let alone loves us.

In my experience, one of the biggest stumbling blocks to faith for people who are non-believers lies in the absolute tyranny of life itself. How can a God who is love sit idly by while tragedy strikes, trauma endures, sickness continues, and injustice abounds? Truth be told, the most reasoned and best articulated answer I can give people who question God’s motives is simply this: The world is broken, and sometimes, it sucks.

But I can also unequivocally tell you this–God does love us, and the proof of that is everywhere. It’s in early-morning hours as the peachy orange of a new dawn slowly pushes the night away and the birds emerge from their slumber to sing the day into being. It’s in the praise song that fills my heart and compels me to sing as I take my son to early morning band practice. It’s in the daily reminders that my life is full of people who love me: texts from my mom sharing news of the day, calls from my sister while she’s waiting in the drive-thru lane at Starbucks, Sunday evening conversations with my in-laws as we unpack our week. God’s love is in the rhythm of daily living that my husband and I have cultivated together over the past 19 years, full of conversations about everything and nothing, laughter and love. It’s in those moments where I look at my boys and see glimpses of the thoughtful and talented men they are becoming, realizing that God is working in their lives even when I don’t notice.

When your heart is full of compassion and kindness, that is God’s love shining through. Paul reminds us in the letter to the Ephesians that God’s love doesn’t just skim the surface of life. It’s not temporal or transactional. It doesn’t ebb and flow. Instead, it is deep and wide, reaching well above and beyond anything we can grasp, let alone comprehend.

I think if people truly understood the height, width, depth, and breadth of God’s love, if they knew they are well and truly loved completely, then I have to think the world would change. This, then, is our mission as those who already know God’s all-surpassing and ever-encompassing love: We must be bearers of love until every person on this planet knows there is something bigger, something more powerful, something more sacred than what our eyes can see. If we truly want others to know God, then we need to love them.

And so, today, I offer this prayer:

God, give us courage and strength to love as you have loved.

God, give us patience and wisdom to love those whom you love.

God, give us compassion and understanding when we are seeking to share your love.

God, give us power to show love in ways that help others see there is a greater love.

And God, let us love because you love us.

In Jesus’ Name…Amen

Knowledge…it is something I value above most things. As a writer, my favorite days are research days…when I spend hours combing through Google articles, my eyes scanning texts for nuggets of information as my fingers tap out questions like: Why did megalodons go extinct? How does the filibuster actually work? Who invented the water slide? What exactly does G-force mean? And though sometimes it takes a bit of digging and much cross-referencing of sources, I can usually come up with the answer (the climate changed, hard to say–but one of the first recorded water rides was built in New Zealand in 1906, the force of gravity or acceleration on the body).

Whenever someone in our house is feeling unwell, I turn to Google for a diagnosis before calling the doctor’s office. When our beloved Newfie passed away last month, I researched pet cremation because I wanted to know what would happen to him next. And when my brand new sewing machine quit working correctly, I turned to YouTube to figure out how to fix it myself–and learned about the function of tension in the process!

People say that knowledge is power, but its power comes from the fact that it leads to understanding. And understanding leads to informed decisions.

That’s why it often confounds me that so much of faith is still a mystery. Despite all of my knowledge of God, I still have so many unanswered questions. Why does God let people suffer? How does eternity work? Is heaven really a place in the hereafter, or do we have it all wrong? Will God truly send people away from him after working so hard to save humanity? If God forgives and forgets, why do so many churches still talk about judgement? And how can God really be everywhere at once?

Yet as I was meditating on Psalm 8 last week, a thought occurred to me. Though there are many mysteries in this life of faith, perhaps the biggest mystery of all is that God loves us.

We are a people who spend most of our waking moments focused on our selves–on our self-preservation and self-perpetuation. If I’m being honest, I would have to say that a large chunk of my thoughts are self-directed, from pondering what I want to eat to thinking through conversations in my head, it’s all about me, myself, and I. Sound familiar?

And yet, God loves us anyway. Why? We’ve never once given him a reason to do so. In fact, a quick scroll through history will show that we’ve given God ample reasons to wash his hands of us. But instead, he keeps calling. From the beginning to the end, our Father who loves seeks us out and gathers us home. And this all-consuming love of God is, I think, the greatest and most holy mystery of faith–a strange and perplexing force out there hovering in the cosmos like the Oort Cloud (Google it). I can’t tell you why God continues to love us–it’s enough to know that he does.

God set us apart…making us just less than divine, Psalms says, but crowning us with God’s own glory and grandeur. It’s overwhelming to think about–kind of like looking up into the vastness of the night sky. When I consider the stars, I am diminished. I remember that in the grand scheme of the universe, I am but a blink, a breath, a bubble. When I’m gone, I will leave nothing lasting–nothing immemorial. My name will not become a question future Jeopardy contestants will answer. But yet, God says, “You matter to me.” And he says the same to you.

How do we respond to such a mystery? How do we let the knowledge of God’s unfathomable love shape us? My hope is that it moves us out of ourselves just a little bit farther and closer to the one God has called each of us to become in him.

This week, I would encourage you to spend some time outside looking to the sky. Lose yourself in the great cosmos of stars and planets that circle above. Be small, and in that smallness remember how very much you are loved. And let that love be enough.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara