Get near to Jesus. 

Sorry if that sounds like some toothless religious platitude. It’s not. It’s got jaws like a gator that won’t let go.

The reason is that the antidote to Death is Life. The remedy for Decay is Resurrection. The solution isn’t to stir up more gusto for life, to watch an inspiring Ted Talk, or to read a self-help book on motivation—as genuinely good and helpful as they may be. No, there’s only one thing to do that is likely to have any affect at all: get near to Jesus.

They are the context. Our fellow missionaries. Our community are our comrades. Mission is empowered and sustained by relationships. 

Approach #1: Get a clear picture in your mind, draw a blueprint, make a plan. Then try to gather all the Lego pieces you know you need. Dig through the noisy buckets until you find all the exact right pieces. Frantically search in the couch cushions for the pieces you know you must have, but can’t find. Don’t settle. Maintain control and vision.

But they often lead to even better questions.

Bigger questions deeper questions. Truer questions. More significant questions. The “questions behind the questions”, as Ruth Haley Barton puts it.

A space where profound transformation happens. The deeper the pain, the deeper the change. The wider the wound, the broader the landscape of life will never look the same. To bear witness to such seismic shifts as they happen in real time is frighteningly holy ground.

To ask in the midst of suffering.

You’ll most likely not discover the answer. Not right away anyways. Not to a degree that is at all satisfying. Not sufficiently to alleviate the suffering—which is really why you’d ask that in the first place. I place no judgment on anyone who asks “Why?” It’s quite natural, and perhaps fumbling around in the dark with that question for a while is a necessary step in preparing you for the other questions.

Here are some other questions worth taking time with in the midst suffering:

That atrophies with underuse and strengthens with regular, focused practice. Once a year just isn’t enough. 

For some, Thanksgiving Day can feel like a race that they haven’t trained for. All of the fanfare is exciting, but the real benefits and deepest joys are missed. 

Every day ought to be Thanksgiving, if for no other reason than mental health. It matters little to whom or for what the thanks is given. The effect is still the same. 

Here’s a little Bible:

I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart;

I will tell of all your wonderful deeds.

Psalm 9:1

Here’s a little science:

Whole-hearted, heartfelt gratitude releases dopamine and serotonin in our brains—the neurotransmitters responsible for happiness. Gratitude is a natural anti-depressant. 

What’s more, reliving a positive experience releases another hit of dopamine and serotonin just like the one our brains loved in the moment. 

God hard-wired us to thrive in thankfulness. The Biblical writers, and countless since, bear witness to this. Science now confirms it. 

Thanks be to God! 

I have a friend who was raised to believe that, “If you’re gonna do something do it right—or don’t do it at all.” That was his father’s mantra, and it still haunts him. 

But resent feeling obligated.

Such a delicate balance. 

I used to believe that God’s blessings would bring stability, ease, and comfort. That if God was blessing something in my life, that it meant that thing would largely stay the same, probably improve somehow, and most certainly get easier. 

Now I’m beginning to believe that God’s blessings bring change, challenge, and discomfort. That God’s touch never leaves something the same, and that new territory of transformation is uncharted, sometimes scary, and maybe even a little dangerous.