Expectations vs. Expectancy: What You Need to Know for 2024

Expectations vs. Expectancy: What You Need to Know for 2024

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I’m wrestling through something and I want to invite you on the journey with me because I think it has deep and wide significance for us all.

I want to talk about expectations versus expectancy.

It’s easy to start a new year with a lot of expectations. Shoot — it’s easy to live every day with a lot of expectations. Whether you’re thinking about your family, your job, your education, retirement, relationships, ministry, health, or dreams, it’s natural to wonder and hope for what’s to come. If you’re a glass-half-full kind of gal, you likely expect good things! Growth, blessing, provision, progress, success! If you lean toward pessimism (or salty realism), you probably expect obstacles, disappointments, and setbacks.

Either way, you’re likely well on your way to planning (or bracing) for the year ahead. I know I’ve got fitness goals and business benchmarks I want to meet. I’m striving toward big dreams as well as trying to sustain small habits. I have expectations for my marriage, my kids, my house plants, and the aggravating pain in my elbow.

But I’ve got to be honest here… sometimes I grapple with whether it’s okay to expect things.

Proverbs 19:21 reminds us, “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails” (NIV). Aren’t the plans in our hearts another way of saying our expectations? But if God’s purpose will prevail regardless of what we expect, then is that a call to lay down our expectations? 

Likewise, I’ve heard many sermons on surrendering our plans for God’s will. (I’ve probably spoken and written about this myself!) The prophet Jeremiah wrote, “Lord, I know that people’s lives are not their own; it is not for them to direct their steps” (Jeremiah 10:23 NIV). Verses like this convict my heart and compel me to pray, Lord, strip me of all my expectations! I want You alone to direct my steps, not my limited and preconceived notions of what is best. 

I believe this is a good prayer. Gripping too tightly to our expectations limits our ability to see God blow them out of the water.

But here’s what God has been showing me: Acknowledging that God can (and does) blow our expectations out of the water is our invitation to exchange our expectations of outcomes for the expectancy of His actions.

To say it another way, stop focusing on what you want to happen and start focusing on what God will make happen.

Jesus said, “I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who abides in me and I in him bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).

God promises to make our lives fruitful — when we abide in Him.

I learned my favorite definition of abide from my friend Marshawn Evans Daniels: “To abide means to live in a state of expectancy.” 

God wants to do good things in your life! You are His image bearer. His divinely chosen daughter. He wants to grow in you the fruit of His Spirit. He wants to empower you to bear fruit that reflects His love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control — not barely enough, not an adequate amount, but much! This reflects God’s heart for His kids! He is a God of abundance, a God of plenty, a God of good gifts — more than enough!

The Psalmist David declares, “Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4 NIV). Delighting in God goes hand-in-hand with abiding in Him, and remaining tethered to Him. When the Lord is our focus and delight, the desires of our hearts will supernaturally align with His. 

When I consider this, I can’t help but be expectant, I can’t help but be filled with confident hope for the things to come!

As the Community and Editorial Manager for (in)courage, I’ve felt the Spirit inviting us to adopt this posture of abiding expectancy as a community. Rather than setting goals for more podcast downloads or outlining a grand plan for new ministry directives, I feel God calling us to listen, wait, watch. Abide deeply with Jesus and watch expectantly for how He will lead and what He will accomplish in and through us.

So for 2024, let’s choose to let go of expectations and lean into expectancy. 

Let’s shift from asking, “What will I do this year?” to “Lord, what kind of fruit will You bear?”

Whether you are new to reading (or listening) to (in)courage, or you’ve been with us since 2009, we are SO glad you’re part of this community! Our heart is to serve you well with our daily devotions, weekday podcast, books, Bible studies, and Instagram encouragement. Why? Because we love Jesus — and we know you do too — and we want to remember together WHO He is, see HOW He is working in our lives, and learn WHAT it looks like to become more like Him.

I am so expectant for the ways the Lord is going to shape us, grow us, and guide us this year. Thanks for being here.

I’d love to hear from YOU! Choose at least one question to answer:

  1. What expectation is God asking you to lay down?
  2. Where is God leading you to look expectantly for Him?
  3. How did you find (in)courage and what does this place mean to you?

As a thank you for being part of our community, we’ll pick two commenters to win $50 to shop at DaySpring.com.*

“I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.”
Romans 15:13 NLT

 

Listen to today’s article below or wherever you stream podcasts!

 

*Giveaway open to US addresses only and closes at 11:59 pm central on 1/29/24.

Change and Loss May Linger But THIS Is Also True…

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I took in the bounty presented on two large tables: ham, scalloped potatoes, green bean casserole, three different kinds of jello salad, and a chocolate sheet cake. Standing in my childhood church’s familiar fellowship hall, I could pretend it was 1985 when eleven-year-old me looked at offerings from the same recipes prepared by many of the same ladies. I have so many good memories in that church and fellowship hall. And yet, the day I spent there in the winter of 2018 was a very different kind of day from those potluck gatherings I remember from my growing-up years.

This fellowship hall gathering followed my dad’s memorial service.

Yet, as I put a bit of ham, potatoes, and green beans on my plate, I smiled because it felt like Dad was still here. After all, how many times had I sat next to him in this same room?

Since losing my dad six winters ago, I have “sat down” with him, figuratively speaking, many times. I’ve told him everything from general thoughts to life updates, such as, “You’d have enjoyed today’s graduation ceremony. You should see Faith on the tennis courts! I think you’d love this book I’m working on.”

I share other truths, too, like how much I still miss him.

Because I lost Dad during winter — and because we lost my dear father-in-law only a month after my dad — this time of year carries an extra veil of gray coldness for me. I’m sure the time of year you lost someone you dearly loved is color-washed gloomy, too, even years later. That’s one of the hardest things about difficult change that involves much loss: its shadows can follow you for seasons well beyond when the loss occurred.

My dad died in his 70s after a long battle with MS, and he suffered no small amount from it in his latter years of life. I’m comforted by the fact that when God chose to bring him home, He also ended Dad’s physical pain. And while I miss him here on earth, there is extreme gratitude that he’s now walking whole and healthy in heaven, talking with Jesus, and no doubt hoping to convince his favorite country music artist, Johnny Cash, to sing a duet with him.

In my dad’s case, while my family and I didn’t know exactly when he would leave this earth, we knew it would be sooner than later. My heart goes out to those who not only lost someone when it wasn’t exactly a surprise, like I did, but to those whose loss of a loved one was a shock, a sudden tragedy.

From Scripture, we know Mary pondered the life events she experienced and treasured them in her heart when Jesus was a baby and a child. I wonder, though, what did she ponder after His death? Perhaps she treasured her many good memories of Jesus as a young’un, such as the way He looked when He was deep in thought or the way He lit up when she made His favorite meal. And while she eventually came to know that He had to die to fulfill His Father’s plan for Him on earth, I’m sure it took a good deal of time to move through the grief of His death.

I read a beautiful poem by George Herbert shortly after Christmas Day, and I’m still reflecting on it now. An excerpt of it goes,

“O Thou, whose glorious, yet contracted light, Wrapt in night’s mantle, stole into a manger…”

It’s an image of light encased in darkness that shows up suddenly in an unexpected place. About this poem, author Janet Morley muses that Herbert “…resolves the light/darkness opposition in a way that sees both as positive.”

I’m not one who usually sees darkness as a positive. I’ll always gravitate to a chair near a window, not the one in a dark corner. I want to bask in the light. Yet, I’ve learned not to be so afraid of the dark or the sad feelings that come with it. Of course, I’ll never imply that we should slap on a happy heart about death and loss and see it only positively. No. But the fact that God’s light can be found in the deepest dark is a positive providing epic hope in God’s epic hands.

Because of Christ’s coming, His death, and His eventual return, not even the darkness of death and loss can outrun His redemptive light. Even darkness is as light to Him.

“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?”
(1 Corinthians 15:55 NIV).

When all you see is darkness in the loss of your personal cold, gray winter, know that the light is there, waiting to show up suddenly in an unexpected place. Perhaps this is the legacy the darkness leaves… a more visible place to witness the Light. And in the meantime, we can take comfort in memories of our loved ones, treasuring them in our hearts while also knowing that one day, because of Jesus, every negative will become a positive.

For more encouragement during difficult loss and change, visit here.

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or on your favorite podcast app.

A Precious Gift in the Middle of Tough Times

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“Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?”
Matthew 6:27 NLT

Everything seemed so bright. We had a wonderful life, complete with happy kids, good salaries, and a hopeful future. But with one crisis after another, that life faded away, leaving behind a pile of debt, unemployment, arguments, and so much anxiety.

What happened to my life, God? Did we do something wrong? Tell me what kind of magic-button prayer will get us out of this mess!

I cried every day. I begged God to rescue us from the land of uncertainty and give us back our old life. I coped with the only strategy I knew: worrying. I thought I could protect myself from more pain if I imagined all the worst-case scenarios in advance: What if we can’t pay this month’s bills or the medical test? What if we need a new transmission? What if our life never gets better? However, obsessing over my “what if” worries didn’t make me feel better. Instead, I felt worse!

Maybe you’re like me, faced with an uncertain season of life and stuck in the middle of hardship or heartache. Jesus understands. Jesus knew one day His closest friends would be fearful of the future and worries would overwhelm their hearts and minds. So, before His death, He made this promise: I am leaving you with a gift — peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid (John 14:27 NLT).

The peace Jesus gives provides supernatural calm in the midst of chaos and hardship. It’s the kind of peace we absolutely need when we’re not sure what will happen next.

It took a few years of stressed-out days and sleepless nights for me to learn to surrender my worrying ways in favor of Jesus’s peace. Though our difficult season continued, God was faithful to remind me of His promised peace.

We can rest assured that God’s promise doesn’t have an expiration date. It never runs empty. And when our “what if” worries try to steal our calm, we are only a prayer away from unshakable faith and receiving shalom from the Prince of Peace.

by Barb Roose, as published in 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle

Our new book, 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle, will take you on a journey of learning to see God clearer and to know Him deeper in the middle of your struggles. As you experience pain, move through daily challenges, or get bogged down by anxieties big or small, you’ll learn to find Him right in the middle of it, ready to strengthen you and give you rest. 

You’ll find 100 devotions divided up into 10 key themes all designed to give you the spiritual strength you need for any struggle you face. The devotions are paired with Scripture and journaling space so you can process with God and have a written record of how He strengthens you!

Order your copy today; we cannot wait for you to read this book.

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts.

In the Bleak Midwinter

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“In the Bleak Midwinter”, originally written as a poem by Christina Rossetti and later set to music composed by Gustav Holst, is one of my favorite winter hymns. Even though it was originally titled “A Christmas Carol”, and it’s in the Christmas section of the hymnal, and we sing it during Advent and Christmas, and it talks about the newborn Jesus and His mother… it just doesn’t scream CHRISTMAS to me. I don’t know why. Here, take a listen to one of my favorite versions by James Taylor.

To me, the picture painted in this hymn is the barren, stark, grey landscape of well, midwinter. Here in Minnesota, we should be shivering with arctic air and our grounds covered in a deep blanket of snow. Yet, this year has been one of the mildest on record with little to no snow cover around the state. Even Christmas and New Year’s felt unrecognizable when we are so used to ones of white; these special holidays kind of felt like just more cold days in a string of many.

The trees are dead, the grass is dead, and the flowers are obviously dead. Everything around me is cold and brown, without the usual glittering icy beauty of our typical winters. Events that normally bring joy and fun to our cold winter season have been canceled; ice castles and sled dog races, ice fishing competitions and cross-country skiing, ice skating and sledding with friends — all put on hold.

My local family and friends fall into one of two categories: either they are thrilled with the milder-than-normal temperatures and lack of snow, or they’re bemoaning both.

Guess which camp I’m in.

I’ve always said, “If it’s going to be cold, it may as well be beautiful and snowy!” We still have to deal with finding coats and packing the kids’ daily snow bags for school but without the payoff of a snow fort, snow angel, or even snowball fight. (For those of you outside the chilly midwest, a snow bag includes all the gear one may need for wintertime outdoor recess: boots, gloves, hats, scarves, and snow pants. And yes, the kids go outside for recess unless it’s below zero.) Thus far this year we’ve been relegated to a brown, barren landscape. To me, a snow-covered landscape is anything but bleak. Snow on snow is the dream, my ideal for an already-cold winter. To me, the uncovered, dead, earth is where bleakness lies on display.

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

There are other kinds of bleak, deeper kinds beyond frozen ground. When I see these lyrics, I find myself wondering about the bleak state of the world when Jesus entered it, walked it, lived it. We know He experienced and witnessed depravity and hardship, poverty and injustices, smarmy streetcorner preachers and judgy neighbors. Surely the world was bleak, sullied from the Garden it once was.

We read in Scripture that with a bite and a blind eye, darkness fell. Eden was lost forever and the world became bleak. Sometimes when I stumble on a horrifying news story, hear of another school shooting, see the division carved by an exhausting political landscape, or think about the wars happening right now across the globe, I am overcome in a way that feels similar to the realization of Eden’s fall. I want to crawl into bed and hide under the blankets, blocking it all out.

But even then I couldn’t block it out of my heart, and I don’t think Jesus was ever able to either.

Our God, heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

No, God sent His Son to live in it. To muck around with blue-collar workers, to live with family and the drama that accompanies it, to walk a mile in our very own shoes until His unjust death. To dirty His feet and suffer alongside the marginalized. To be forced to find beauty in a dusty, dry, barren, and bleak world that isn’t Home.

Heaven couldn’t contain Him indeed.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.

And so many did give Jesus their hearts, lambs, and gifts. He was shown love by many in His life; frosty and sharp as the world could be, there was light. Jesus had dear friends, family who adored Him, and people who wanted to know Him more deeply. Even at the end, His people showed up and watched, prayed, stayed through the bleakest hour.

It’s love that pushes us through when the bleakness of midwinter seasons threatens to swallow us whole.

If we look closely, we can see His beautiful face around every snow-free corner, each wintering and bare tree, and even in the brown blades of grass covering our bleak midwinter land.

May we give Him our hearts. May He come and reign.

 

Listen to Anna read today’s devotion on the player below or wherever you stream podcasts! 

The Power of Being Seen by Jesus

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READ:
24 So Jesus went with him, and a large crowd was following and pressing against him.

25 Now a woman suffering from bleeding for twelve years 26 had endured much under many doctors. She had spent everything she had and was not helped at all. On the contrary, she became worse. 27 Having heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his clothing. 28 For she said, “If I just touch his clothes, I’ll be made well.” 29 Instantly her flow of blood ceased, and she sensed in her body that she was healed of her affliction.

30 Immediately Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. He turned around in the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?”

31 His disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing against you, and yet you say, ‘Who touched me?’”

32 But he was looking around to see who had done this. 33 The woman, with fear and trembling, knowing what had happened to her, came and fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. 34 “Daughter,” he said to her, “your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be healed from your affliction.”
Mark 5:24–34 CSB

PRAY:

Lord, thank You for seeing the bleeding woman in the crowd and for seeing me today in the fullness of myself. You are never too busy or pressed to stop for me. Thank you for desiring wholeness in my body, mind, and soul. Increase my faith to always reach for You. Amen.

REFLECT:
When have you felt seen by Jesus? What do you need to bring before Him for healing?

Charcuterie Snack Board Inspiration

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We thought it would be fun to share another great recipe from DaySpring’s Mary & Martha site! Their friend Nancy creates the most delicious, beautiful recipes for Mary & Martha, and we are excited to bring some of them here to (in)courage — like this one, perfect for this still very new year.

And who doesn’t love charcuterie?! It’s all the rage right now, and for good reason! Perfect for parties and gatherings of all sizes, beautiful to display, fun, and delicious to eat. Mid-winter is a great time to pull out your serving trays, load them up with all the goodies, and invite a few friends over to catch up. Nancy C. has some ideas for your charcuterie boards, along with the perfect Mary & Martha pieces to use for serving!

Friends, scroll down for inspiration and to download a free printable!

CHARCUTERIE SNACK BOARD

DOWNLOAD THE FREE RECIPE CARD HERE!

Prep Time: 30 minutes
Cook Time: none
Makes about 8 servings.

INGREDIENTS:
  • 2 kinds of cheese, sliced
  • Crackers or baguette slices
  • 6 to 7 types of fruit and vegetables, (e.g., grapes, strawberries, sliced oranges, cherry tomatoes, sliced cucumbers, olives, baby carrots)
  • 1 (6-oz.) pkg. of dried apricots or other dried fruit
  • 1 1/2 cups nuts (e.g., mixed nuts, almonds, or cashews)
  • 1 or 2 kinds of dip (e.g., Ranch dip, hummus, or fruit dip)
  • Optional: salami or smoked sausage slices
INSTRUCTIONS:
  1. Line your charcuterie board with wax paper liner or parchment paper.
  2. Fill a small bowl with dip and place it on the board in the center or slightly off-center.
  3. Arrange the rest of the snack items around the small bowl of dip in sections, starting from the bowl to the edge of the board, like a sun ray. Or have fun creating your own unique arrangement!
  4. Use extra bowls or plates, if needed, for any different dips or snack items, and place them next to your charcuterie board.

NOTES: The Mary & Martha Table Talk Wax Paper Liners work great for lining your charcuterie board. Also, their Celebration Melamine Set comes in handy for serving additional items.

To get the beautiful look above, use the Table Talk Charcuterie Board Set! Complete the look by serving additional dips and goodies in the Grace & Gratitude Dip Bowls.  Visit the Mary & Martha site to browse the winter catalog, find more recipes, and connect with a consultant to learn more and place your order!

What’s your favorite item to include on a charcuterie snack board??

Proximity Changes Everything

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I’m trying to prepare myself for the funeral of a friend. It’s the second funeral in a matter of weeks. Two different women from my church passed away just three weeks apart. Our church isn’t very large, and as one of the pastors, I’m still processing how to lead and how to grieve at the same time. 

The memories we shared pierce through my mind, a bittersweetness I hold onto.

I prayed with both of them to give their lives to Jesus. I remember both days perfectly – one over the phone last September, and the other in a back room in our small church in July. Both times, I remember thinking how there was nothing I’d rather do. It never gets old seeing someone decide to follow Jesus. 

They both had different stories — because all of us do — but I knew them. We texted on hard days. We hugged when we saw each other. I prayed for them regularly. 

And when they were both nearing the end of their lives here on earth, I had the honor of visiting each of them separately, holding their hand, and praying. Touching and praying and crying – the most human of ways to feel pain. 

After hearing the news of each of their deaths, I cried. This last year, one of my prayers related to pastoring was that God would expand my capacity. He did expand my capacity. He also expanded my heart. 

It hurts to be close to someone when they feel pain. It can hurt to love.

It hurts less to keep your distance. It hurts less to not get involved in people’s lives, to refrain from knowing the stories of their heartache or joy, to keep from grasping their hands when they’re dying. It hurts less to stay away.

But getting close to someone? That’s the life we’re meant for. 

Jesus could’ve been a God who kept His distance. He could’ve stayed in Heaven. He could’ve helped us from afar. Instead, He is a God who draws close, who took on skin and moved into the neighborhood. He draws as close in proximity as anyone possibly could. 

Jesus is not afraid to be close to you. He is not afraid to hold your hand in the middle of your darkest nights or to hear every personal detail of your life. He is not ashamed or embarrassed to know your most hidden secret. He is not exhausted to hear you tell Him the same story again and again, or bring the same desire of your heart to Him for the hundredth time today. 

Jesus isn’t afraid of proximity. He is the One who created closeness. He is the one who formed nearness. Jesus is the One who paved a pathway for intimacy… because intimacy always requires proximity.

But more than all of that, Jesus knows the cost. He knows how it hurts to love. His Love cost Him more than any of ours ever will.

Yet He still chose to come close and closer and closer still. Because proximity changes everything. 

You can never hide from His presence. Our God is a near God. He does not keep His distance. Even when He is rejected and despised, He comes near. 

Getting close to Jesus is the life we’re meant for. And as we begin to understand His nearness, we can bring others in closer the way Jesus does for us.

I am so grateful for the honor of pastoring both of these women. They affected my life for the good. They changed me, taught me, and stretched my heart to be wider than it was before. 

It hurt to love them because it hurt to lose them on earth. But the cost of love is worth it. Jesus showed us that. Proximity leads to intimacy. And intimacy is what your heart was created for.

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts!

Strong Enough to Lean In

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As a mother comforts her child,
    so will I comfort you…
Isaiah 66:13 NIV

In the last few months, I’ve had a fractured elbow, a gum tissue graft, and a massive, infected cyst removed from my neck. I’ve been miserable, in pain, and rendered helpless at some points along the way.

I’m not used to asking for help, accepting care, and taking a break, and these past few months, I’ve had to do all of the above. My husband faithfully bandaged, unpacked, cleaned, and rebandaged the surgical site on my neck. My daughter brushed my hair while my arm was wrapped in a sling. My friend sent coffee money when the baby stopped sleeping and my mouth—swollen and stitched—could only handle icy liquids.

While I am not great at accepting it all, I’m learning that in a way, being dependent is a good thing. My friend calls it being “strong enough to lean.” And so, lean I will, right into the arms that hold the strongest. I’m learning to lean in, depend on, and accept the care God offers me all the time. And that care reminds me of a mom.

God wants to care for us like the best mother there ever was — ready to help put our minds at ease, invite us to practices that help our whole selves, and/or give us a kick in the pants to shake it off and get moving. Maybe a combination of it all because that might be what we really need.

Just as the best mother ever constantly thinks about and cares for her children, God does the same for us. He cares for us, and He’d like us to care for ourselves too. That care might look like a doctor’s appointment to check on that weird thing, or like drinking that glass of water, or going to bed early, or praying when you’re worried. It might also look like accepting help from a friend, admitting when things are a big deal and when we need to be taken care of.

Let’s be strong enough to lean in — to God and others — and let’s do what we need to do to take care of ourselves well.

by Anna E. Rendell, from 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle

Our new book, 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle, will take you on a journey of learning to see God clearer and to know Him deeper in the middle of your struggles. As you experience pain, move through daily challenges, or get bogged down by anxieties big or small, you’ll learn to find Him right in the middle of it, ready to strengthen you and give you rest.  

These 100 devotions from the writers of (in)courage provide lifeline Scriptures and real-life stories to help you grow stronger with Jesus one step at a time. Every day you’ll be prompted to write down where you are finding God’s strength. No answer is too small. You might find God’s strength in a song, a sunset, or a timely text message from a friend. By intentionally looking for God’s strength every day, at the end of your journey, you’ll be able to look back and see 100 ways God’s strength met you and sustained you even if your circumstances didn’t change.  

You’ll be reminded that you were never alone and that God is stronger than you imagined — and so are you. 

Order your copy of 100 Days of Strength in Any Struggle today! It launches in February, so preorder and you’ll be the first to have it in your hands. We cannot wait for you to read this book.

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts.

What You Need to Know About Winter and Sadness

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For months it’s been dark and getting darker when I leave the house in the morning to walk my youngest to the bus stop. The journey is short – just down to the end of the cul-de-sac – and yet, one step out under the pre-dawn sky reminds me of the vast mercy that stretches over each new day. Each time we step out onto the driveway, I look for the gentle reflective light of the moon. Each day, the moon is there, even when she’s shy and hides behind the clouds. My daughter and I see who will find her first, then we point out what stars and planets we can find.

I dread getting up early and sigh over having to bundle up and head out into the elements. But there’s something about the cold air, and stepping out into the last threads of darkness and night that also beckons me. The air is a “wake up!” announcement for my lungs and body. I breathe it in and feel my need for it.

Venus shines like a beacon in the early morning sky these days – she stood watch during the transition between fall and winter. Before dawn, she’s there, like a divine reminder that there’s beauty to uncover in the seasons I resist.

I’m not a scientist, nor am I knowledgeable in astronomy. However, I believe that God speaks to us through everything He’s lovingly created. On days when I pay attention, I find love notes in the quiet sky I would never have chosen to witness in the first place.

This year, I’ve felt winter quietly permeating my being and inner world. Alongside the festivities and fun, I’ve been carrying a deep ache for people I love with struggles that cannot be fixed in the way I would choose if I could. I feel such an ongoing ache for the world as I read and take in news headlines. There are Palestinian children buried under rubble and a genocide keeps unfolding — just one of countless global tragedies unfurling every day. In the same small space on my phone where I read the news, I get a text message about a BOGO-free deal that communicates more urgency than the news headlines about war and devastation. The reality of living in a “May the odds be ever in your favor” culture alongside such horror and destruction feels like a madness too heavy to bear.

Last year at this time, I read Katherine May’s book Wintering, and it was such a kind and wise guide for me. I re-read a few chapters this week to remind myself of what I appreciated and needed last winter. This year, I need it again.

“Doing those deeply unfashionable things — slowing down, letting your spare time expand, getting enough sleep, resting — is a radical act now, but it is essential. This is a crossroads we all know, a moment when you need to shed a skin. If you do, you’ll expose all those painful nerve endings and feel so raw that you’ll need to take care of yourself for a while. If you don’t, then that skin will harden around you.” -Katherine May

I’m reminded that though joy and pain can co-exist, and it almost feels trendy to say so, Jesus came into a world with layers of pain He did not fix overnight. He lived through it all in the same way we do now. Year after year He grew and navigated these tensions and oppression, pain and sadness. Jesus made room for the winter seasons of the soul. In His sermon on the mount, in Matthew 5:1-12, He said that those of us who struggle, those who are sad – the ones who are living through dark winters and do not run from them – are blessed.

It’s not the triumphant, popular, goal-crushing, or outwardly happy ones who are closest to Him – it’s the ones who are almost done for inside, the ones who are grieving things lost, the ones who are without and in need, the ones who are lonely and hungry for love, the ones who care so much their hearts feel like they will break under the weight of it all, the ones who stay tethered to love like a child, the ones who are underestimated and ridiculed for their faith.

I read that Venus’ surface is hot enough to melt lead. She’s covered with volcanoes and raw heat – she spins in the opposite direction of our planet. I imagine her angry over having no shifts, no seasons, no anticipation for anything different than what is, no relief – only the kind of fire that burns and devours life. I think of how often I’ve wished winter seasons away. Yet, how much have I missed by doing so?

May we winter and be sad. May we winter as needed, knowing we do not do so without the nearness of Jesus.

 

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Be Still . . . And Trust He Is There

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I heard a bird outside my window, singing loudly and chirping in the coldness. I looked for him in my hydrangea bush, thinking I would find him perched on one of the outstretched branches. With no success, I could not see him. Yet . . . I still heard him — a birdsong in the bleakness of winter.

I knew he was out there, so I stubbornly kept looking. Leaning forward, craning my neck in all directions, until I finally found him in the last place I thought he should be — singing his heart from the middle of my cold, hard sidewalk.

How I wished I could be like this bird. Not afraid of the cold. Confident in the exposure. Singing in the hardness. Instead, I was hiding on my sofa, in my fuzzy pajamas, surrounded by a snowy blanket of soggy tissues. My confidence and joy were gone after my divorce, custody battles, and now an unplanned hysterectomy.

But God was trying to show me something through this bold, beautiful little bird. God was calling to me, singing His song for me and quieting my sobbing with His love. He reminded me that His joy — a joy that I did not have to produce on my own — would be my strength.

We expect to find God in branches of blessings — in a happy family, a successful job, a warm house, and a stress-free life. We think if we do not have them, He does not care for us. We think that if everything goes wrong, we did something wrong . . . as if He turned away the moment we fell away.

Listen . . . God is calling us. Keep listening, for He is singing in the coldness of our discomfort. In the hardness of our struggles.

He is calling us to find Him. He is calling us to love Him. He is calling us to see that He is there, in our messy mess — in the battle — singing a promise of victory.  

“The Lord your God is in your midst,
    a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
    he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.”
Zephaniah 3:17 ESV

Where was God in my divorce? In the court-filled days when I fought for the custody of my only child? In the hysterectomy shattering any possibilities for future children? In all my battles ending in failure?

He was there. Even there. Always there.

Through my feathered friend’s song, I was gently reminded how to be still and listen for God’s call.

Be still . . . and trust He is there, even in the bleakness. Be still . . . and know that He is God. He will never change His mind about His love for us. His grace will never be withdrawn from us. Nothing we ever do will cancel what He has already done for us.

He is singing out my name — a name engraved on the palms of His hands. He is singing in the middle of my darkness, my sickness, my loss. He is singing, even when I mess up, fall down, and get turned around.

God is calling, promising I will find Him: “You will seek Me and find Me, when you seek Me with all your heart. I will be found by you” (Jeremiah 29:13-14).

God is calling, asking that I trust Him: “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11).

God is calling . . . so I hold out my hands full of hopes and dreams and place everything at His feet. Then I still myself, and listen for Him with all my heart, mind, and soul.

And, in the quiet — in my cold, hard bleakness — I hear God’s loving melody calling for me, drawing me closer with His song of joy.

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts!

A Stranger, Spilled Coffee, and Blessings in Disguise

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My husband walked in the door, plopped my cappuccino on the counter, and said something that didn’t make sense: “Enjoy your coffee. Dan bought it.”

Who the heck is Dan? I thought. But at that particular moment, my need for coffee (or was it caffeine?) far exceeded my need for additional information. This was the second over-priced coffee drink Tad had gotten for me that morning; the first was an unfortunate casualty of him tripping on the tall first step at his brother’s back door. Thankfully, he managed to save my niece’s cold brew.

I took two big sips before bothering to ask, “Who’s Dan?”

Dan, it turned out, was a benevolent stranger.  When my husband reached for his wallet to pay for the order, Dan stepped in and told the barista, “I’ve got this.” Surprised, my husband initially protested before finally accepting Dan’s Christmas Eve Eve gift.

Random acts of kindness are natural conversation starters, aren’t they? My husband learned that Dan had been ringing bells for the Salvation Army’s red kettle with his grandchildren that morning, and Tad explained the unfortunate circumstances that led to his second coffee shop visit in an hour. (Even though I shed a few tears when my first cup was dropped, I had assured Tad I was fine to pop a pod in the Keurig. But he knew I was looking forward to a fancy, frothy holiday treat, and ignored my objections.)

My cappuccino tasted exponentially better because it came with a wonderful story. While Dan’s kind gesture made my day, it also got me thinking about how easy it is to bless those around us. But it doesn’t always have to cost you in dollars and cents. Often, blessing others simply requires prayer and intention.

Miss Christine embodies this sort of thoughtfulness. Sweeter than sugar, Miss Christine lives in the retirement community where I work. Daily she prays about who might need a blessing. She’ll tear a page from one of DaySpring’s Prayers to Share Pass-Along Notes and trust the Holy Spirit to guide her to just the right person. With twinkling eyes and a joyful countenance, she’ll slip that little note into your hand and tell you the Lord told her you could use a blessing today. At 92 years old, this darling pixie demonstrates that we can never age out of sharing the love of Christ.

People like Dan and Miss Christine inspire me to “go and do likewise.” They’re vibrant examples of what it can look like to “let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16 NIV).

When you encounter someone whose delight is in the Lord, you know it. You’re drawn to their light like a moth to a flame. It’s not just because there’s something particularly wonderful about that person; it’s because you’re drawn to the Holy Spirit working in and through them.

The allure of an unbridled Holy Spirit in you is magnetic… undeniable… inescapable. Way too often I get in the way, talking myself out of whatever that divine prompting is nudging me to do. Do you know what I mean? So, what can we do to be bolder in our faith, bring glory to God, and bless those around us in the process?

Maybe liberating the Holy Spirit in our lives begins with believing the Gospel we profess. When we remember and trust that Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection have made a difference in our lives – when we notice how the Gospel changes everything – how can we not share the love, joy, and kindness extended to us through God’s infinite and unconditional love?

If you’re anything like me, the new year already has you thinking about resolutions, goals, or one word that will be your guiding principle for the months to come. What if we devoted our minds and hearts to knowing and loving God this year? 1 John 4:7-11 (NIV) speaks to this –

“Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.” 

Knowing and loving God go hand in hand; the better we know God, the greater our capacity to love Him. And it shows. What better way to begin a year than by investing in the most important relationship in our lives?

So, darling friends, don’t cry over spilled coffee. It might just be a blessing in disguise.

 

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The Best Way to See God’s Fingerprints in Your Life

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Praise the Lord, all nations!
Glorify him, all peoples!
For his faithful love to us is great;
the Lord’s faithfulness endures forever.
Hallelujah!
Psalm 117 CSB

January is a natural time for making goals and embracing fresh starts. But it’s also the perfect season for praise! A time to intentionally remember who God is and what He has done in our lives.

No matter how your 2023 ended or whether you’re dreading or delighting in the start of 2024, we can all answer the psalmist’s call to praise the Lord, to glorify Him, to raise a hallelujah!

Praise primes our hearts to see God’s love, to see His fingerprints of faithfulness all over our lives.

Sometimes God’s love is like a flashing neon sign you can’t miss. It comes in the declaration of “cancer free,” a check received exactly when you needed it, a reconciled relationship you had written off, freedom where there was once total bondage. And sometimes, His faithfulness is like a fingerprint whose smudge you would likely miss if you weren’t trained to look for it. His faithfulness is marked by an encouraging text from a friend, a parking spot in the rain, leftovers so you don’t have to cook dinner, a bird’s morning song.

Whether we categorize God’s kindness and care toward us as “big” or “small,” the truth is that His faithful love for us is GREAT! And it will never end.

How have you seen God’s faithful love in your life as this new year begins? Share in the comments so we can praise Him together!

 

God Is Not Concerned With the Number on Your Scale

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I’ve been at war with my appearance for longer than I care to admit. Weight, age, shape, strength, speed — there’s always been something I’ve told myself isn’t enough. I’ve felt physically lacking for most of my life. Now, as a woman in her forties, I’ve been hit with the double whammy of worrying about the scale and shouldering shame from seeing the signs of aging that creep across my face and neck.

The five pounds I’ve been trying to shirk for the last six months won’t budge, all the old tricks from my youth seemingly fail me. The lotions and serums I’m smearing around my eyes and under my chin are busting my bank account. They’re also not changing the creased skin that looks back at me in the mirror.

It all feels like a losing battle. . .

On a morning walk to Starbucks one Tuesday, I hear God ask, “What do you value? Do you think your shape is why I love you?” These are not the prophetic words I want. Still, they cause me to relax a bit . . . like I’ve put down a load I didn’t even know I was carrying. Maybe this is the weight that’s been tipping the scale every time I step on it? Maybe these are the five pounds I’ve been trying to shed?

Shedding spiritual weight isn’t easy, though, so I push back at God. “You’ve got the wrong person, God,” I say, sounding like Moses when God asked him to do something he didn’t think he could do. Change is ahead, but I’m not sure I want to shed these emotional five pounds. Can’t I just lose the weight from my thighs and arms instead? Those are the real problem areas, not this bigger thing He’s trying to turn me toward.

The truth is an unholy confession: I want my body to change, not my heart. Even as I resist, I think about Adam and Eve naked in the garden. Peaceful. Open. Without mirrors. Without scales. Without denim that shrinks with every passing wash and year. After He created them, God didn’t give Adam and Eve instructions on how they should look or what workout would yield the leanest physique. He didn’t tell them to increase their protein and skimp on the carbs. Instead, we read in Genesis 1:29, “And God said, ‘Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is on the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit. You shall have them for food.'” (ESV)

God provided plants for food. God told them to eat without worry.

God has never cared about my BMI. I understand this even as I’m still grabbing at those five pounds He’s trying to release from my shoulders . . . the weight I’ve been carrying for all these years. The weight that tells me I didn’t move enough or that I ate too much. The weight that critiques why I don’t look the way I think I’m supposed to look.

“Supposed to look” is an ideology as old as the Bible. We see it in Samuel expecting Jesse’s son, Eliab, to be the future king, merely because of his good looks. And, though we’re told that David is handsome himself, we’re quickly set straight that he is chosen for his heart.

God doesn’t look at the scale to evaluate our worth. He doesn’t clock the pace on our morning run; He isn’t a trainer screaming at us to work harder, jump higher, eat only chicken and broccoli. Instead, God looks at the heart. And, as long as my heart is steering me toward an external goal for happiness or value, I know that what God sees is my pain and distrust in His plan for me. He sees me doubting that I was truly created in His image. But now I see, that being created in His image doesn’t mean we come in one standard of physique — rather, it’s the strength of heart. This is what He is trying to teach me; this is the burden that He’s trying to release me of. 

This is the weight that will be lost when I step on the scale.

As it goes with these things, in the time I’ve sat down to write these words to you, my faith has been tested. My jeans feel a bit snug and I’ve put on a few extra pounds . . . now I feel the burden pressing down on my back again. This won’t be a one-and-done healing. The holy heart work that must be done is a daily redirection away from the world’s ideals and a determined stride toward God’s promises.

And so, I continue on this journey — as do you — one day at a time.

We Need More Salt

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Cooking is one of my favorite hobbies. Growing up with a dad who was a chef helped ignite a passion in me for food and confidence in the kitchen even as a young girl. I am a rule follower by nature, but when it came to cooking I didn’t have to stick with the rules, so it was a creative outlet for me. 

In the kitchen, I get to omit or add ingredients based on how the food looks and tastes, which makes the process fun. But I have always been cautious with salt because if you add too much, there is nothing you can do to fix it. So I have my husband taste test and, more often than not, I have to add more salt. Salt is necessary. You can add all the spices, but it is only once you add salt that you can actually taste all the flavors. Salt enhances the goodness of the dish, which makes you want more of it and leaves you satisfied.

In Matthew 5:13, Jesus says to His followers, “You are the salt of the earth…” (NIV).

Salt served even greater purposes during biblical times and culture than it does today. In Leviticus 2:13 and 2 Chronicles 13:5, we read about the salt of the covenant. Salt was used as a purifier and a preservative. Salt symbolized something as holy, set apart for God. So when Jesus tells this crowd they are the salt of the earth they might have been shocked. He was essentially welcoming them into the covenant community, but He wasn’t talking to the religious elite or priestly class, He was talking to regular, everyday people. And instead of telling them to do certain things to belong, He tells them they already do!

“You are the salt of the earth,” Jesus says. Salt — vital, necessary, acceptable, useful, worthy; this was His promise to the people.

Did you know that salt comes from water? Jesus often refers to Himself as Living Water:

“Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink” (John 7:37 NIV). “… but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life”  (John 4: 14 NIV).

So then if we are salt that means we are formed from Jesus and have qualities like Him. It is not in our own power that we can be salt, but it is Christ in us.

If you grew up in church, you may have heard salt used for ministry names. I was in a college Bible study group called SALT, and it was an acronym for Servants After the Living Truth. It was predominantly Indian –American Christian students who gathered together every Thursday night to worship and study Scripture. We even had royal blue t-shirts with a salt shaker graphic. SALT was like church and family time for most of us. SALT provided godly friends and helped me stay firm in my faith — but I don’t think this is what Jesus meant when He called His followers to be salt.

Jesus didn’t declare we are the salt of heaven. We are called to be the salt of the EARTH, set apart as holy to God to preserve and purify the places we step foot each day.

To be salt as Jesus calls us is to go into places that are bland and broken, and make those places beautiful and good.

To be salt is to walk into every room knowing you have a God-given purpose and influence in that room.

To be salt to is shift the atmosphere of the spaces we sit in every day by the way we interact with those in our world. The neighborhoods, schools, and workplaces we walk into should be different because we are there!

How often do we truly live like salt though?

Jesus came to invade our hearts and minds with the Truth and transform the world with the Good News. Jesus came to change everything. Just as the Father sent Jesus into the world, so Jesus sends us (John 17:18 NIV).

But many of us are like me with cooking — overly cautious about putting salt into the pot, afraid of what might happen. So we just gather together with our Christian t-shirts instead of going into the world and bringing Jesus to those who need Him. Instead of being Jesus’s world-changing salt, we have simply become salty — angry, defensive, irritated, and overly sensitive. Too much salt in one dish is not desirable and will only leave a bad taste in someone’s mouth.

Jesus warns us of the danger of a diminished witness. He says if salt loses its saltiness, it’s good for nothing. You might as well throw it out and trample it underfoot (Matthew 5:13). There are so many causes of our diminished witness today: hypocrisy, leadership failures, political idolatry, mistreating people, lack of empathy, and the list goes on.

What if as followers of Jesus made an intentional choice to BE salt? Let’s refuse to be salty, and choose instead to be the salt of the earth, making wherever we go richer, better, and more satisfying because of Jesus in us. 

 

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New Year, Same God

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It’s already a new year?! 2024! I can hardly believe it! It seems as though we were all just ringing in the new year of 2023. I think I have a complicated relationship with New Year’s. I think it tends to be one of those “truths in tension” as my friend Abi calls it.

I love getting a new planner and wall calendar. I love looking forward to the events and gatherings to come, new friends to be made, and new dreams to be dreamed and realized. New years are filled with infinite possibilities and high levels of hope. Sounds great, right?

So here is where the tension lies: all of those aspects of a new year are exciting, but there is also something about a new year that brings a tinge of regret. I reflect on the past year and regret some of the things I did and didn’t do, dreams yet to be accomplished, words spoken and unspoken.

For me, 2023 was a whirlwind of highs and lows. Life took me for a ride. Tighter budgets, health challenges, traveling, pursuing my passions, church life, gaining friends, and losing them. See? It’s a lot. And that’s not even including all of the world events we’ve all been walking through together.

My walk with the Lord has also had its fair share of ups and downs . . . seasons of intimacy and seasons of wilderness and everything in between. I’m sure many of you have faced trials, hardships, successes, and wins. Joys and sorrows often transpire hand in hand.

God has shifted my perspective over the final weeks of 2023. I want this new year to be different. I don’t want to walk in regret or lament over all of the disappointments. I want to stand upon the firm foundation of His truth and promises. I want to learn, grow, and be refined. I want to see this past year through His viewpoint and with the hope that only Jesus brings.

I often forget that with every rise of the sun and every turn of a calendar year, our God is the same. Hebrews 13:8 reminds us that Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He never changes. He never fails. He never wavers.

When the chaos of life surrounds us, God is the sure and steadfast anchor of our souls. He is our solid rock when the storms of life rage around us. He is our strong tower of protection against the enemy.

When the world and people promise to deliver but fall short, He never does. He is faithful to keep His covenant promises. He does not lie and is true to His Word.

One of my favorite verses about God’s faithfulness is found in 2 Timothy 2:12-13. Here we find a few of God’s responses to our actions. If we do this, then God will do that. Verse 13 is the best news for us in our flawed humanity: “If we are faithless, He remains faithful — for He cannot deny Himself.”

Everything about the nature and activity of God is faithful. Faithful is who He is and what He does. Our goal should be to live lives pleasing and acceptable to a Holy God. But, when we are prone to wander away, He is faithful to pursue us. When we fall into or choose to sin, He is faithful to hear our confession and lavish us with His forgiveness.

Jesus is called Faithful and True according to Revelation 19:11. His faithfulness never depends on us or our circumstances. His faithfulness is attached to His character — not ours. Oh, what beautiful news for us, His daughters. We don’t have to strive for God to be faithful to us. We get to rest in who He loves being to us.

I am trusting in our good and faithful Father this year. He is the faithful One that can redeem any situation and mend all things broken. He restores our hope. How great is His faithfulness!

Is the new year filling you with regret or hope? How do you need God to show Himself faithful to you?

 

Listen to today’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts. 

 

4 Reminders to Cling to When You’re Tired of Trying So Hard

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I was still nursing my first cup of coffee when my twelve-year-old barged into our kitchen with far too much enthusiasm and a very loud announcement:

“Mom, I’ve decided on my New Year’s Resolution!”

This should be interesting, I thought. He can’t even remember to brush his teeth. Still, not wanting to rain on his pre-pubescent parade, I dug deep for a smidgen of adult maturity, wiped the smirk off my face, and asked, “That’s great! What is it?”

He smiled, so very pleased with himself. “I’ve decided I’m going to talk less.”

Aaaaaaannd then he spent the next hour telling me all about it. God help me, all attempts at restraining my eye rolls failed about 15 minutes in.

Twelve-year-old boys aren’t the only ones who struggle to keep their promises. Regardless of good intentions, too often I set a goal for myself that takes far too long to achieve, if I achieve it at all. I have no problem seeing areas in need of self-improvement, identifying aspects of my character that need attention, or growth edges in my relationships that need smoothing. But there are two significant problems with my best attempts at personal renovation:

ONE, I often underestimate the work required. Turns out, self-improvement projects are time-consuming and expensive, in every sense of the word.

And TWO, despite my best efforts, some projects feel hopeless. There are aspects of my character and behavior that I’ve been tackling tirelessly for decades. I’m embarrassed to admit there are days when those flaws show little evidence of growth. My quick tongue, unforgiving spirit, negative thought spirals, and critical self-talk for starters. Anyone else?

Why am I such a difficult student? Why do I continue to struggle with the same sins and character flaws, year after year? Why do these weaknesses and shortcomings continue to plague me, despite the time and effort I’ve invested in trying to overcome them? Although I know I’ve grown and I am convinced I am not the same impulsive, immature youth I once was, some days all I can see is how much further I’ve yet to go. It feels like running a marathon and discovering, after several hours of sweaty effort, I’m still in the first mile.

Although I am not the woman I once was, I am not yet the woman I want to be. And some days I feel completely exhausted from trying so hard with so few results. This is why I love, love, love Paul’s encouragement in his letter to the Philippian church:

“I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” 
Philippians 1:3-6 NIV

He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion. Or, as Eugene Peterson translated in his Message version: “There has never been the slightest doubt in my mind that the God who started this great work in you would keep at it and bring it to a flourishing finish on the very day Christ Jesus appears.”

A flourishing finish. I like that. It feels like heaven.

Here’s the good news for you and me, the hard-working, self-improving sort who lay awake at night, tossing and turning over our failures, only to wake up and work our fingers to the bone trying to “do better” and “be better”, only to discover we still fall so short of the mark:

The person responsible for self-improvement isn’t you. Or me. We already know we don’t have what it takes. So here are a few reminders to cling to when you’re weary of trying so hard:

  1. You are in process. From the day of your birth until the day of your death, you are in process. You will never be able to check the box of human perfection, even if you sign up for every self-help course, attend every church service, and regularly see your therapist. The work of becoming (or, in church lingo, sanctification) is never done until you’re done.
  2. Owning your faults feels like freedom. There’s an uncommon strength in the simple act of taking responsibility for failure. Rather than hiding, covering up, or blame-shifting, saying “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. Will you please forgive me?” leads to incredible freedom. Owning our failures not only does wonders for our relationships, but it’s like a high-end car wash for the heart. It feels fresh and clean, like a second chance.
  3. You can’t self-help yourself to wholeness. I’m all for counseling, mentoring, reading books, and practicing new skills. But I must remember that although my efforts toward growth and maturity matter, God alone is the master gardener.
  4. God is the finisher. We cannot carry ourselves across the finish line. None of our hard work and bootstrapping can propel us over the chasm between us and holiness. But there is good news! God can. And God will. As Jesus said on the cross, “It is finished” (John 19:30 NIV). He did the work, so you and I can finally rest.

God the Father, the One who made you and claimed you, is the Master Builder overseeing the total renovation of your heart, mind, and soul. And what He started, He will finish, to a flourishing end.

I was right. That does feel like heaven.

 

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