The Gospel tells us about God. It tells us about our fallen nature. It tells us we serve a merciful and gracious God, who had every reason to simply write off humanity, but instead, choose to die on our behalf. It speaks of redemption, that we have been redeemed and are being made new. And finally it speaks of restoration, that one day, all things will be made new, and we will live eternally in the presence of God. All of creation proclaims God’s truths to humanity, but God, Himself, also speaks to each of us, through His Word and in many other subtle ways throughout our lives. Every time we come to Him, He honors us with His teaching. Jesus tells us in Matthew 11:29, “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” All we must…
Archive for the ‘Hope’ Category
You are my lamp, O LORD; the LORD turns my darkness into light. – 2 Samuel 22:29 It was Christmas night. After spending the day in our hometown of Carson City, celebrating Christmas with our family, Travis, the girls, and I began the twenty-five mile drive back home. It was dark and snowy. Visibility was poor as the storm clouds enveloped our car. The beam of our headlights proved to be of only minor assistance in guiding our way, for just as quick as the light left our car, it was met with the beautiful fog of falling snow and the haze of the surrounding storm. As we drove, the girls slept in the back seat. Travis and I fell silent as the day’s events settled upon us. In the silence, God began to speak. He began to open my eyes to His truths surrounding me. I love it when…
God intended for us to discover His loving presence in the world around us. – Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel My two little girls eagerly stood at our glass sliding door last night; a playful neighborhood kitten named Fred was on the other side. Each of the girls held out a string, bouncing it up and down in front of Fred. They would giggle as he pounced time and time again toward the allusive string on the other side of the glass. The scene lasted for quite some time. Bouncing. Pouncing. Giggles…. Pure delight. To be honest, I’m not much of a cat person, but I couldn’t help but smile and giggle, myself, as I watched the scene unfold. Moments like these can be found around us all the time. They’re the moments that can bring us pure joy, show us beauty in the small things (or the big things), and bring us…
If you’re completely honest with yourself, there is tension between who you want to be and who you currently are. [Tweet that] The whole world currently exists in the already but not yet. Jesus already came. He died for our sins. He resurrected, conquering death, sin, and Satan. We have already been redeemed by our gracious, loving God. But we have yet to see Him make all things new, which He will do upon His second coming. We have already been saved but not yet perfected. We are already saints by identity but not yet by deed. This can be a frustrating place to be. In Romans, Paul, himself, experienced this tension. He says: For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate…. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I…
I’m reading several books right now. I do that. In fact, oftentimes I read four to five books at a time. Admittedly this isn’t the best way to go about reading, but it works for me––most of the time. Anyway, I think Jesus has been trying to get my attention. The story of the sinful woman being forgiven by Jesus found in Luke 7 was presented in two different books I’m reading within days of each other. Both accounts painted the scene with vivid color. Flesh was given to these individuals as they came alive before my eyes. The authors explored the tension held in the room, the feelings of those in attendance, and all of the cultural intricacies at play––all drawn from biblical and historical sources. Here’s this woman. This prostitute. She sees Jesus, dining with a Pharisee. Overtaken by emotion, she enters into the room and approaches Jesus,…
For almost a decade, revealing the story of my dad’s death to others proved to be difficult. In fact, after a number of years, I began calling it the “dad bomb.” I knew that if you stayed in my life long enough that the bomb would have to be dropped––at some point, I had to reveal the truth. It usually came up when asked about my parents. My dad would come into question, and I’d have to tell them. “Well,” I would say reluctantly, knowing where this would lead, “my dad died when I was twenty.” To which they would reply, “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Then the look on their face begged the question before it was asked. Some had enough nerve to ask the question right away. Others, however, waited, at times months, to get around to the inevitable question, but I knew it was coming, “So, how did…