Madeleine L’Engle: A Universe That Bends Toward Love
She didn’t separate faith from imagination. Madeleine L’Engle just lived wide open — heart and mind. Her books pulled readers through time, across galaxies, into the mystery of grace. She believed beauty told the truth. That story could carry both wonder and doubt. And that God’s love wasn’t narrow or tame, but wild enough to bend the whole universe toward redemption.
When Life Becomes Prayer
There’s a kind of prayer that doesn’t require silence or structure. It doesn’t follow a guide or wait for the right moment. It just happens — while you’re driving, making coffee, walking the dog. It’s unfiltered, constant conversation. And somehow, in the middle of the ordinary, you realize you’re not alone. Your whole life becomes prayer — unpolished, unplanned and full of God.
Healing and Reverie
Sap clings to my feet. The morning breeze brushes my face. And something in me aches to be known — by God, by others, by me. Healing isn’t tidy or quick, but it’s worth every scar it asks us to touch. When we stop running from the shadows and let love move through us, even our hidden places can become holy ground.
Joy Even in Chains
Joy isn’t the absence of pain. It’s not tied to comfort, ease or getting your way. Joy is a choice. Paul made it in chains. We can too — right in the middle of everything we don’t understand. Whether you’re staring down disappointment, rejection or just a world that feels upside down, God’s invitation stands: Rejoice. Not later. Not someday. But now. Joy isn’t just possible. It’s who you’re becoming.
One Hundred Roses
Beauty doesn’t ask to be seen. It blooms anyway — wild and unhurried, like roses in the late-May sun. It doesn’t need our applause or attention. But still, it invites. In the curve of a stem, the fall of a petal, God whispers: I am here. And when we let that beauty seep in, we remember who we are. We remember we belong.
Letting the Knowledge of God Seep Into Our Bones
Spiritual formation isn’t just about ideas — it’s about the body, the habits, the little rituals that shape us — in kitchens and walking trails, in psalms sung loud and prayers whispered low.
The Rock Star Who Refused To Hide His Faith
Bono didn’t pick up faith as a prop or marketing tool. He lived it — quietly, publicly, honestly. Long before it was trendy to name-drop Jesus, he was writing psalms into lyrics and praying through grief onstage. His faith wasn’t perfect. But it was real. And in an industry of curated personas, that kind of raw, worn-in belief still cuts through like a spotlight.
What’s ‘Good’? And How Do We Know It?
What makes something “good”? We say things like “sex is dangerous” and “marijuana is evil” — but we rarely stop to ask, What does God call good?
Optimism: A Wonderful Paradox
There’s a kind of prayer that doesn’t require silence or structure. It doesn’t follow a guide or wait for the right moment. It just happens — while you’re driving, making coffee, walking the dog. It’s unfiltered, constant conversation. And somehow, in the middle of the ordinary, you realize you’re not alone. Your whole life becomes prayer — unpolished, unplanned and full of God.
Prayer: The Significance of Talking to God
Prayer isn’t performance. It’s not a ritual to earn blessings or a checklist to stay in God’s good graces. It’s a returning home. It’s how we live aware of God — through whispers, groans or silence. Whether we feel him or not, he listens. And when we pray, we’re changed — drawn out of self-reliance and into communion with the One who sustains us.
Prayers of Hope For Peace Over Your Thoughts
Prayer changes things — especially us. When we bring our worries, regrets and need for control to Jesus, he doesn’t just listen — he leads. His peace moves in quietly, clearing out the noise, shifting our thoughts toward truth. The world may still be spinning, but deep inside, we’re anchored. That’s the power of communion with God. Not flashy, not loud. Just steady. Just holy. Just enough.
The Cracks That Let In The Light Of God
Some weekends just catch you off guard — not with fireworks, but with God showing up in quiet, unexpected ways. A biker rally. A conversation about grace. A priest who met God on mushrooms. The Spirit moves how he wants, through whoever he wants. None of us sees the whole picture, but sometimes, through the cracks in this world, the light gets in. And that’s enough.
Service: The Order of the Towel
It wasn’t heroic. It wasn’t glorious. It was just dirty feet and a towel. But when Jesus knelt down, he showed us the full extent of his love. Not with a crown, but with service. Not from a throne, but from the floor. He met a need no one else wanted to meet. And he told us: now you go and do the same.
Adventure: The Spirit Who Says Go
Sometimes all it takes is a whisper. A quiet “Go.” That’s how Simeon found himself in the temple courts that ordinary day, holding the Messiah, wrapped in baby-soft skin and holy promise.
Work: Learning to Take Joy in Our Toil
We weren’t made to work just to survive, or to prove our worth. At its best, work is participation — in what God is doing, in healing and reconciling the world. But that takes reframing. It means asking whether our work reflects his purposes. It means letting go of the lies about status and success, and learning to take joy in serving.
Contemplative Prayer: Being with God
Contemplative prayer isn’t about elite spirituality or saying the right words. It’s about relationship. About learning to simply be with God. Not asking. Not analyzing. Just showing up.
The Gift of Lament
Lament doesn’t chase away sorrow — it honors it. In the hush of a hospital room or the hush of a sanctuary, something sacred happens when we let grief speak. Not fix it. Not explain it. Just let it sing, like a melody half remembered that somehow still brings peace. God meets us there, and that meeting changes everything.
Exercise: Ten Thousand Miles
I’ve always preferred adventure to exercise — real movement with meaning. But lately, I’m realizing that staying strong isn’t about vanity; it’s about faithfulness. Peter Attia’s “Outlive” reframed health for me: not just living longer, but living better — being fully present to love and serve. Paul said, “Run in such a way as to get the prize.” For me, that prize is loving well, for as long as I can.
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.
Why Do Our Bibles Keep Changing?
Bible translations don’t change because the message shifts, but because language does — and so does scholarship. New discoveries and evolving usage lead to periodic updates. That’s not a threat to Scripture; it’s part of its careful preservation. Even Crossway’s English Standard Version, once declared “final,” is now being updated again. These changes remind us how God’s Word is both rooted in history and actively stewarded in the present.