Gratitude and the River of Life
Gratitude doesn’t start as a feeling for me. It starts as a decision to look. To slow down long enough to notice beauty still offering itself: a warm coffee cup, December sunlight, a quiet house. Fear tells me everything is fragile — my body, my people, my time. Gratitude doesn’t deny that; it refuses to let fear narrate the whole story. It reminds me I’m held, even here.
Further Up and Further In
Some places wake something in us we didn’t know had fallen asleep. They remind us that beauty is real, desire is good and the story is not winding down but opening up. The gospel does not shrink our longings; it redeems them. The invitation still stands: further up, further in — toward more wonder, not less.
The Weight of Being Yourself
There’s a rare freedom in people who know who they are without needing to prove it. They live open-handed — rooted, unashamed, fully present — able to carry both joy and grief without closing down. This kind of identity isn’t self-made or self-protected. It’s received. And when we stop grasping for ourselves, we begin to feel the steady weight of being truly alive.
From Wonderblind to Wonder-Full
Wonder begins when we stop assuming we already see. Jesus’ invitation — come and see — is a summons to wakefulness, to reimagine the world as shot through with divine beauty. Every moment, every face, every leaf in sunlight hums with his presence. Apprenticeship to Jesus restores our sight — turning us from wonderblind to wonder-full, alive again to the shimmering grace of all things.
Worship in the Old Testament
Worship isn’t about what moves us — it’s about who God is. The Psalms make that clear. They give voice to grief, celebration, trust, awe. Lament doesn’t cancel faith. Petition doesn’t crowd out praise. Worship rooted in God’s holiness and steadfast love isn’t forced or flashy. It’s honest, expectant, reverent. That kind of worship still reshapes hearts — ours and the generations watching.
Created for His Presence
We weren’t created for shallow moments or vague spiritual vibes. We were created to know the Presence of God — not as a concept, but as a person.
How To Know the Mind of Jesus
Knowing Jesus isn’t about collecting facts. It’s about learning his mind, his ways, his heartbeat. Scripture becomes a means of connection, not just comprehension.
Nobody Is Above Serving Others
Jesus didn’t come to be served but to serve — and he calls us to do the same. No title, platform or gifting exempts anyone from the call to serve.
Embarking On A Christian Pilgrimage Through Art
What if the antidote to our word-weary faith isn’t more information, but awe? In “Heading Home,” philanthropist Roberta Ahmanson leads a pilgrimage through cathedrals that once preached through gold, glass and grandeur. Her mission? To awaken a church dulled by screens and sermons, reminding us that beauty still speaks. Maybe, just maybe, what we need is to look up again — and be changed.
Faith Comes From Revelation, Not Logic
Faith isn’t built on airtight arguments or intellectual gymnastics. It’s not something you reason your way into. The most devoted believers don’t talk about logic winning them over. They talk about revelation.
How to Fast
Prayer and fasting go hand in hand, unlocking a level of spiritual power Jesus himself described as limitless. Fasting silences doubt, humbles the soul and makes space for faith to rise. When we fast, we realign with God, shifting our reliance from logic to trust. Some breakthroughs require more than words — they require a heart so attuned to God that his power moves unhindered. What if fasting is the missing piece?
The Growth of Productivity and the Fall of Stillness
Our world glorifies productivity, yet silence is where we meet God. Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, ‘Teaching about Christ begins in silence,’ but how often do we truly stop? We measure progress, check off boxes and chase efficiency — but what if our striving drowns out God’s voice? Maybe the most vital thing isn’t doing more, but learning to be still and attend to his presence.
Religious Pilgrimages Are Back In A Big Way
People are walking again. Not just down the street or through the park, but across countries, over mountains, into places thick with history and humming with the prayers of those who came before. The Camino. Mecca. Lourdes. The sacred routes that once defined devotion are alive again, drawing seekers from every corner of the world. What’s behind the resurgence? And what does it say about our hunger for something more?
The Intimacy and Mystery of ‘The Secret Place’
The secret place with God forms identity, heals wounds and deepens intimacy. It’s where heartbreak becomes transformation — where rejection refines, not defines.
Be My Companion
The drive is short—just five minutes—from my house.
On the way, I look at the Christmas decorations in front of the houses: poinsettias in ivory and crimson, lights in multicolor and white, a manger scene in the middle of a lawn, adult-sized toy soldiers heralding walkers on the sidewalk with stationary trumpets and bright, merry eyes.
I love it. It feels like goodness. Like possibility. Like hope.
The Depths and the Shallows
I delayed writing this because I feared my writing would masquerade as action. And action, not talk, is what is required of me now.
“Do not stay in the shallows,” He says, and I wonder if processing His words will help me do so: leave the shallows and go to the deeper place where my heart is one with His.
I am sitting at a window near the front of the house where I can see the giant rose bush through the glass. Up at the top, one rose opens to the December sun. Beneath its peach petals are thick flowerless branches armored with thorns. I study them, remembering the feeling of falling in a nest of rose bushes as a child—and the precarious dance I do as an adult in the spring and summer, deadheading stalks so more flowers can bloom.
Because Our Longing Is Ageless
Today, I am not at ease with myself, which is the opposite of what you hear people my age and older say.
I am supposed to say, “I’ve never felt more like myself. I have settled into a newfound freedom as I care less about what people think of me and am less tied down by the attitude of striving.” And I usually feel that way.
But I resonate with both mindsets: I care less about what people think of me and feel good about balancing work, rest and play. But still, I feel listless and confused. There is an edge I think I am missing.
Perhaps I have become complacent? Where has my desperation for God gone?
Endearments of Morning
I sit on my bed, thinking about light and how I can describe hope in words.
Another gift, how morning comes. The house still, birds chirping outside, swooping to drink and dunk their beaks in the water bowl. September air in northern California—crisp, with a hint of cold on my skin when I push out the windows.
The sun's light blankets one tree branch in the backyard, the other in shade from a taller tree’s branches overhead. Sunlight and shadow. Undulations of light in stillness. The light moves, and the earth rotates.
Taking That Leap of Faith
Taking a leap of faith isn’t about one audacious jump — it’s about the small, daily steps of trust and obedience that prepare us for the moment we’re called to move. Peter didn’t step onto the water on impulse; his trust had been building with every encounter with Jesus. When the time came, his faith had already been forged. What if the leap you’re afraid to take is one you’ve been preparing for all along?
Hearing God’s Call in a Noisy World
Hearing God’s voice isn’t easy in a world filled with distractions, but his call has always been disruptive, personal and life-altering.