You can go, go go. You can stay on 24/7. You can keep working yourself to the bone. You can add another side hustle to your side hustle. You can say “yes” to one more commitment. You can add one more responsibility to your plate.
You can expect others to do the same. In fact, the more you expect non-stop effort from yourself, the more you are likely to expect it of others.
However, there is a different pattern you can choose to follow:
(more…)Our modern lives are not ordered by the rhythms of an agrarian society: the seasons of the year, the times for sowing and harvesting.
But something deep down in our DNA still thrives on rhythms. And there are parts of our story—as individuals, as families, as communities, as nations—the we would do well to remember.
(more…)You’ve been the new kid in class. The new employee in the company. The new neighbor on the block. The new parent on the playground. The only one at the table who doesn’t get the inside joke.
You’ve been the stranger trying make some friends. The outsider trying to find a way inside. The lonely one trying to find your people. The sojourner trying to build a life in foreign territory.
Remember that feeling. Step back into that experience from time to time. Consider what might have been helpful to you. Give thanks for those who showed up in tangible ways during that uneasy transition.
(more…)When a friend or loved one is down, the best thing you can do is to simply listen. Everyone needs a listening ear. A chance to talk things out. To vent a little. To name all the things:
What I long for, I can’t seem to find.
Will I ever make it?
I just can’t stop crying.
Where is God, anyway?
I used to love going to church—now it just feels…
Life is crushing me.
I feel forgotten.
Will this last forever?
Just sit and listen. No trite advice. No religious cliches. Be a good friend like that. In grace and compassion, let them arrive at their own conclusion in their own time, where they can say of their own accord:
Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.
Show yourself the same grace and compassion. Be the same good friend to your own soul.
(See Psalm 42).
Something worth caring for will necessarily be more than you can care for on your own.
A child.
A spouse.
A family.
A home.
A neighborhood.
A business.
A hospital.
A school.
A church.
A city.
A state.
A country.
(more…)Everyone has gone through hardship. Most people have come out the other side better in some way. They’ve had their share of enemies, suffering, and wandering. They know all about deliverance, guidance, and goodness.
Not everyone has had someone ask them to tell their story. Someone who will listen deeply. Someone who will meet them in the wildness of their journey to grieve and give thanks along with them.
(more…)We have a number of euphemisms for death.
Pass on.
Kick the bucket.
Buy the farm.
Cross over.
Be in a better place.
Go home.
One that you don’t hear much in Western culture is “to be gathered to your people.” This is a more ancient, Hebrew way of talking about death, found all throughout the Old Testament.
More than being a nice sentiment, or a way of soft-pedaling grief, what if there’s actually something to this? What if this is another angle on what future theologians would call “the communion of the saints”? What if this is another way of affirming the Christian hope of resurrection?
(more…)Sometimes the best you can do is to give that place a name—so you don’t forget—and move on.
Bitter.
Broken.
Flawed.
Fake.
Unhealthy.
Unsafe.
Manipulative.
Abusive.
Dehumanizing.
Soul-sucking.
Wisdom, I have heard it said, is the art of living well.
Wisdom is not a science. It is not “an effort to rationalize reality,” as Walter Brueggeman has written. When it comes to living wisely, there is no formula, no blueprint, no standard operating procedure.
Science studies the repeatable. History studies the unrepeatable. And wisdom studies the present moment. No one has ever been your exact being, living this exact moment, under these exact circumstances, faced with these exact decisions.
Now, if you insist on being a scientist, you’re likely to find your attempts rather frustrating. God is not a professor standing in front of the class ready to precisely respond to the student with her hand raised.
(more…)Sometimes I sit down to eat, and in the blink of an eye my plate is clean. I came to the table hangry; hopefully I’m leaving with my belly full and my mood stabilized. And maybe that’s ok—just get some calories in and move on.
Sometimes, however, a meal seems to last for hours. Time slows down as the joy of each bite fills not only my belly but my soul. The flavors and the fellowship with those around the table are too good to rush.
(more…) Exploring the mystery of faith in ordinary life.