It read, “This year I want to be more like Jesus:

• Hang out with sinners
• Upset religious people
• Tell stories that make people think
• Choose unpopular friends
• Be kind, loving, and merciful
• Take naps on boats

I do not regret my decision, but I was not fully prepared for what that decision would bring, as is often the case when we engage with the things of God. I have not made much headway toward napping on boats, but the others brought amazing changes to my life.

It turns out, hanging out with sinners, befriending unpopular people, and making people think upsets religious people by default. I am blessed with many non-Christian friends and during the pandemic, I made many more. I am beyond thankful for these people, these friends, for the relationships and the insights they share.

I discovered more pain than I wanted to know about, pain caused by the church and many Christians. You don’t need to look very far in our current culture to see the anger, cruelty, even hate that comes from Christians. Someone I know posted this on their social media account, “There is no HATE like Christian Love.”

I recoiled at that and in seconds had my defense ready. I wasn’t going to accept that attack, but then, I stopped. I asked myself why someone would say that, and then asked, “Can I listen to this person and hear them without my defenses?” What if they were right? That opened my heart and my mind. I didn’t like what I found.

I hope you will choose to withhold your offense and your judgement and listen to what the Spirit is saying to the Church. The Spirit is speaking through the wounded we left forgotten along the way, through those Jesus loved, but we didn’t, and through a new generation being wounded right now. Too many have made weapons of the faith and the scripture. Untold harm is being done in Jesus’ name. A vast number of people are being driven away from Jesus while the church feels righteous and justified. I will explore this more in future posts, and look at ways God can redeem, and resurrect, in our current circumstances.

It is no surprise people ask me why I am Christian. So, I want to relaunch this blog with my answer to that question.

I am Christian because I’ve experienced the love of Jesus for me and others. My response to that gift is my love for him. Once I met him, I couldn’t take another path. I was faced with the reality of his existence and the depth of his compassion. Jesus didn’t come to me with judgment, or rules, or condemnation. He found me in my darkest place and wrapped me in love. I truly received a new life.

Imagine being in the lowest place you can imagine. Surrounded by people, you knew you were alone. Your family loved you, but stopped taking pictures of you because they didn’t want to remember you that way. Every day, you lived as if you had a death wish, without purpose and without hope. Then, when you reached the end of yourself, someone came to you, wrapped you in their love, accepted you where you were, and wanted you, just because you were loved. That is my story. I believed I was unloveable, but Jesus showed me I was valued and adored.

Much of modern, American Christianity is obsessed with rules, with evil and sin, and with power. From the outside, it is not very attractive. Many people who grew up in the Church, now want nothing to do with the faith. They were deeply wounded by people who claim to be “little Christs,” and those wounds are not healed. Instead of meeting Jesus, they met rules and judgment. They were shown an angry God who focused on their every failure. They received a faith based upon fear.

I knew that faith at one time, but then Jesus showed me something different; he showed me who he really was. I no longer follow Christ because I’m afraid of punishment. Instead, I follow Jesus because I am captivated by him. I can be me, the real me, and still know his love. There is no one like him, and I discover more every day. This is why I avoid foolish debates. Honestly, even if the Bible was proven to be a hoax, it would not change my belief in Jesus because I know him, and he is amazing.

I am not a Christian because I am afraid, or because I like to “believe in fairytales.” No, I am a Christian because I know Jesus and I am known by him. There are many things I do not understand. I have many questions, but I cannot deny what I’ve experienced, and the experiences have never stopped.

That’s my why, my why I believe, and the why of my life.

The post Why? appeared first on Thinking Faith Cafe.

I want to say that, while the stories of my past were very painful, God was present. Some of the greatest experiences of my life happened during that time and I have friendships that lasted decades. Humans hurt and failed me, but others blessed me, and God grew my faith in ways I never dreamed.

I am doing my best to share this journey, but confusion frequently reigns over clarity. What used to be easy, no longer comes naturally. Sometimes, it’s humorous, but often it is a different form of pain. I will be more careful to share the whole story as best I can.

Recently, I enjoyed several days of normalcy. For three days, out of the past two years, things were good. It was nothing exceptional for most, but to me it was amazing. It gives me hope. The other days are better than they were, for the most part, but the last week was quite difficult.

This is the thing with depression and anxiety. It can change without notice. Every day is different. Some days you feel the improvement, some days you are in a pit, and most days you fake being normal for the sake of others. This leads to exhaustion. Sundays are a big challenge. A few hours of preaching and visiting and I am spent.

My memory is affected by the disease and the treatment. It requires tremendous effort to keep focus. The tools I’ve used for decades to track what needs done no longer work. Learning new methods is interesting, but, unfortunately, things get lost in the process.

It is things like this that create extra challenges. Like so many things in our world, my struggle is old news. Where once, people worked to adapt to my changing reality and offered to help any way they could, they now expect me to be my old self and function as if nothing’s changed. I am sure they still care, but their awareness is different. They have their own concerns to attend to, and my struggles can add to those concerns.

Of course, no one knows the parts they don’t see. They don’t recognize that the challenges I experience, like the ones that affect them, happen all the time for me. My therapist is excellent, but we have a lot of work to do. I normalized, or repressed, many things that now, have a negative effect, not just with ministry, but in every facet of my life.

Sharing the following thoughts is a difficult level of vulnerability for me to express, even to myself, but I feel it is necessary to support others who can say, “Hey, that’s me!” It also helps reveal what depression/anxiety is like for those who don’t understand.

There are mornings I wake up in panic. I don’t know why. Sometimes, I get fifteen minutes before it sets in, but without any stimulus, I am overwhelmed. It may resolve over coffee, or mid-day, or not at all. Still, life goes on.

There are moments where I suddenly feel completely isolated, that I have no one around me and everything is on my shoulders. It is an empty feeling, but life goes on.

The chaos of the world can suddenly produce great fear. It can cause questions of life and purpose, and remove the joy from pleasurable activities, or remove all motivation for things I love. Thankfully, my therapist keeps reminding me this is normal, but I hate it. Even so, life goes on.

Working through these issues is hard, and not just on me. It affects many around me, especially those I love. My wife experienced major battles the last three years, and has her own stress. She also has been through all this with me—every day. Her love and support is amazing. It’s hard to know you are complicating the life of someone you love.

It is also hard to process the daily stress of all of this on our relationship. The past few weeks were really bad. They really strained our marriage. It was a blessing to have a support network in place to help us, but it was hard, and we are still working through it. As difficult as it was, and is, life goes on.

I will keep showing up to worship and preach what God gives me, with a smile on my face. Most will never know. I will still love and care for those God asked me to serve. Visits during coffee hour will still be times to listen to others and share in their joys and sorrows. Because, life really does go on.

If you’ve read this far, let me share two important things. If you are struggling with your mental health, you are not alone. It’s okay not to be okay. Your feelings are valid, even if they are inaccurate. You can be you.

If you are around people who are wresting with depression, anxiety, and a host of other struggles, know that what you see is the smallest portion of what they are experiencing. Be mindful that the negatives you experience are a drop in the bucket of their lives, and the guilt they carry is torturous. Be patient. Be loving.

Yes, life goes on, but together, we can change the experience of that shared journey of community. Compassion is not always easy, but everyone is wrestling with something, and it likely feels worse for them than you can imagine. The world is hostile like never before and loving has taken a backseat to winning. A kind word, can change someone’s life and by doing that, change the world.

Maybe, that’s the whole point, to accept one another for we are, not perfect people who meet everyone’s expectations, but imperfect people who are authentic and willing to grow together. We can be the body of Christ who draws people to wholeness through love and compassion. We can leave the judgement and fault-finding behind. We can embody what we say we believe.

The post Life Goes On appeared first on Thinking Faith Cafe.

On Friday, I mentioned my colleague who provided support and compassion. I am amazingly grateful for her presence. Other people also offered moments of support. When I first announced my depression, there were numerous notes and comments sent to encourage me. The expressions of love and support were a tremendous source of strength. A few friends offered to assist with, “anything you need.” While such words can be empty, these were not. They were an open invitation for me to reach out for anything.

I received a number of emails and texts offering encouragement. Most began, “I don’t expect you to respond to this…” It was moving to have people understand that the pressure to respond was difficult when things are hard. It was challenging to deal with my own issues. Implied needs felt like big additions to the list. Encouragement offered with no strings attached felt like personal blessings.

This experience was very difficult for my wife, but she never let it show. She supported what I needed even when it was hard. She sat with me as we watched, more than once, movies we saw many times before. (People struggling with anxiety and depression frequently rewatch familiar material because it doesn’t require deep attention, it is comforting, and there are no surprises.) She worked with me even when my mood shifted frequently. Almost every night, there was a hand-written note on my pillow when I came to bed. Some were kind words, some good memories, and some prayers. I have the stack of them on the bedside table. Just looking at them is an encouragement.

Tiny, temporary moments made a significant difference. Most people know I am a voracious reader. To be unable to read for months was excruciating. Every couple of months, a day would cause things to relent enough for some reading. Those days, few in number, were like Christmas morning. The same was true for the days I could create. It was difficult to look at pens, paint, and brushes, and be unable to use them. Creative days were a breath of fresh air.

I will say more about my faith and faith journey in a future post, but the days when I would sense the presence of God, when words, music, even nature would break through long enough to see beauty and find a moment of hope, were celebrations.

One of the most surprising points of light came in the amazing support I received through strangers on social media. I would share a bad headspace day and hundreds of people would respond with support and encouragement. Many of them had similar struggles and understood my thoughts and feelings. Oh, I received a few, “what do you have to be depressed about?” comments. Often before I saw them, the same strangers would forcefully stand in the gap for me and shut those voices down, then they would offer even more support. They didn’t know that those actions were making up for places that was missing in my life. They truly had my back.

There are many more moments like these. I began a gratitude journal a few years ago, and that practice helped me remember these bright spots when there were none to see. Sometimes, all I needed was a memory of a little light to find hope again.

As I continue to share my story, you will probably see the rollercoaster of this journey, but know there were moments of beauty, wonder, and love. I’ll be back with more on Wednesday. Thanks for joining me.

The post Tiny Lights in the Darkness appeared first on Thinking Faith Cafe.

During the same time, I was practicing daily meditation, some guided and some in quiet stillness. Many of my meditations focused on self-compassion and compassion toward others (including people I struggle with). It only takes a moment to see the inconsistency in my thoughts and actions.

When I entered the meeting, all of my negative feelings started to surface. my body was physically reacting to the emotions I felt. I thought, “this is going to be a long event.” I prayed, asking God to give me grace.

It was only a moment before I began to see the dissonance between what I was asking for and what I was willing to give. I wanted to receive the grace of God, knowing I am not perfect, but I was struggling to offer grace to someone who surely needed it. I could feel the conflict, and I acknowledged it. When I looked at this person again, I could feel God using the Spirit and my practice to release a wave of compassion for the person I held resentment for only moments ago. I was almost in tears resulting from the heartfelt love I was experiencing.

Compassion is a gift. Without it, we navigate life with countless wounds that spill over into other’s lives. As the saying goes, “hurting people hurt people.” Without the gift of compassion, we take the harm we receive and we multiply it, but with it, we break the chain of hate and pain. With the gift of compassion we can offer ourselves compassion when we need it, and we can draw from it when we need to feel it for others. Finding that compassion can even overflow to others in our sphere of influence.

All of this should be second nature to those of us who call ourselves by the name of Christ. As those who are the recipients of divine compassion, we should draw from that abundance. Sadly, this is often not the case. Sometimes, we fail. We may need more stillness to receive, or we may need more practice, but the pervasiveness of the lack of compassion within the church is telling. It’s telling us we need to take time to make corrections, and it’s telling the world that our faith isn’t real, that we are not transformed.

When we are concerned about rules more than we are about people, there is a problem. Yes, rules matter, but obeying rules is not what abundant life is about. We never find Jesus attacking people who were struggling. in fact, his only harsh words were for religious leaders who were trying to protect their power. Instead of causing more pain, the Scripture says, “He had compassion on them.”

When the world around us knows us for our judgement and not our compassion, we have lost touch with what our faith is truly about. Recently, I heard people try to shift the blame away from themselves, toward those who are hurting. That is painful, and the result of an immature faith. We receive love from God so that we can love others with the love we received.

I needed the reminder in my meeting. Maybe you need one too. Could it be that we need to remain teachable, open to challenge and correction? Could it be that offering compassion not only blesses others, but blesses us in the process? Virtues grow with practice. We can use our meditation and stillness to practice offering ourselves compassion. We can use our prayer time to receive compassion from God. We can use both to bless others with compassion. That way, when we are in the midst of meetings and plans, we will be prepared to demonstrate compassion and rejoice in its blessing.

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It’s been almost a year since I created a blog post. That is not a record I hoped to achieve, but the reality of life in a pandemic makes things challenging. So does battling depression, and that is where I continue to find myself.

Shortly after Easter 2021, I began to notice I was not okay. My attempts to relieve stress and burnout were little help. I tried my own efforts a little longer, after all, the pandemic, my wife’s intensive cancer treatment, and her recovery clearly led to stress. Add Christmas and Easter, year-end paperwork, and navigating ministry in the continuing health crisis, and it was easy to excuse my feelings.

I realized I needed help. I spoke with my doctor, who helped with medication, and I spoke with my counselor and began to work through my experiences, and wrestle through my struggle with uncertainty. The process was slow, and my doctor asked me to consult with a specialist. That was difficult; issues of stigma affected me. They still do. It was the right call, however. My new doctor was able to begin changing medications to deal with my depression and anxiety. We are still making changes, and it’s been a wild ride.

I discovered an amazing group of online friends who helped me through many dark moments. I was shocked how open I could be in that context and how much people cared. I also saw how many people were hurting in similar ways. Sadly, I also heard and witnessed people of faith condemning lack of faith for their emotional distress. There was harsh judgement, insulting statements, and a serious lack of love.

How were these words and actions supposed to help those who are suffering? How do they reflect the Jesus who, “had compassion on them all?” The answer to both questions is they didn’t. Self-righteous comments and empty holiness only have the power to cause harm. It is no wonder so many people want nothing to do with the church, and by extension, Jesus.

I continue to face some difficult questions about my faith and life. I know God exists because of personal experience. I know God is love for similar reasons. How and where that is expressed by those who call themselves Christian is a very different story. This is not my attack on Christians. It is a call to look at what we’ve become and ask if it looks anything like the One we claim to represent. I am asking myself the same questions.

I will continue to explore and ask hard questions. I will wrestle with my own healing, while hoping I can be part of healing others, or at least, supporting them as they seek healing. I feel like I can write again. I hope I can continue. I will get better and this dark night of the soul will pass, but I don’t want to lose sight of the insights I’ve gained. I don’t want to settle for a counterfeit version of faith. I don’t want to miss out on the beauty of compassion for myself and others. I don’t want a form of religion that denies the real power of Love.

My upcoming posts will likely be personal. I hope they will spark some necessary conversation. I learned a lot in a year and I hope that sharing part of my journey will encourage some who are on the same path, and enlighten those who are not. If you waited for my return, thank you. If you moved on, I understand. I believe great things are ahead. I hope you will continue to connect with me. Here’s to a new day!

The post Waiting to Return appeared first on Thinking Faith Cafe.

What happened to compassion? Seriously, when did compassion go out of style? Isn’t it time that we found compassion deep within our hearts and expressed it to the world around us. Could there be a better time than right now to let compassion loose in great expressions in the world?

There was a time when we would respond to the hurt of the world with the love and concern of our hearts. We would feel something deep within our being when we saw pictures of starving children, suffering people around the world, and victims of horrific crimes and tragedies. We were moved by the site of animals who were wounded. We were deeply touched by the stories of those who were enduring great hardship. Very simply, we cared.

Jesus exemplified a ministry of compassion. Numerous times in the Gospels we find Jesus coming upon crowds of people and the Gospels record that he had compassion on them and then he took some type of action. Typically, Jesus would begin to heal people of their brokenness. Jesus was deeply concerned about their well-being and when he saw the trouble, the fear, the broken places, Jesus responded from the heart to love them above everything else going on in the moment and care for those needs. Jesus lived this way as an example for you and for me as to how we should live our lives around others.

Compassion appears to be a rare commodity these days. People are exasperated by the pandemic, and they are struggling to find a solid place to stand. Futures are in flux, and it feels like the whole world is changing, and that feeling is true. In moments like these we can be tempted to turn inward, which also reduces our compassion for others. “Me” and, “Mine,” take the place of, “Us,” and, “All.”

Then there is the polarization sown like tares among the wheat. Many of those charged with protecting the wheat, actively sow weeds, sometime without even knowing. We’ve divided nearly everything in to “Us vs. Them.” Along with that division, we’ve unfortunately embraced a Zero Sum Mentality. This is the belief that there is only so much resource to go around, and I have to get mine before someone else takes it. The combination leads us to see those with us and the rest are enemies.

What if, as common as this thinking is becoming, there was another perspective? What if that perspective was already in our grasp? What if we considered God’s perspective? I am not suggesting that we find ways to make it seem as if God endorses us, but rather, that we humble ourselves before God, lean not on our own understanding, and follow the path marked out for us.

Imagine life where we saw each other as people of infinite worth, made in the image of God, and so important to God that Jesus gave his life for all of us. We could take Jesus’ word to love and pray for our enemies as more than a kind suggestion, but rather, a kingdom command. Just picture our world as a place where we valued one another even in our differences, a place where we truly cared about each other. Just what might happen if God’s kingdom comes and God’s will is done on earth as it is in heaven? We’ve been praying that most of our lives. Does it really make any difference?

As we walk through this Lenten season, drawing closer to the celebration of Easter, can we see the saving power of God at work in our world, even when it is not as we expected, or maybe even wanted? Can we fully trust God? Can we embrace the teaching and example of our Lord, Jesus Christ, and look upon a broken and hurting world, and be moved with compassion? Oh , to think what would happen if we replaced political ideologies, personal preferences, our comfort zone, and every other thing that brings division, with the blessed gift of compassion.

I see a day when where we hear political news and our anger, doubt, and even hatred, is replaced by a heart of flesh that looks to God in faith. I see a day where, instead of taking advantage of a painful news headline, we let God break our hearts for people in grief and pain. I see a day where we will humbly consider others of more value than ourselves.

I see a day. Can you see it?

The post A New Day appeared first on Thinking Faith Cafe.

Yesterday was the day, the day for my COVID vaccination. I waited for this day, when I could take another step in the safety of our family and a first step toward more breaking out of the past year’s restrictions. I was so thankful to get an appointment and I was ready. I was also filled with anxiety.

Some people are anxious around needles, or crowds. Other are anxious about the vaccination itself and possible side effects. None of these things affected me. I trust the science and know the vaccine is necessary. My anxiety stems from lack of information. The unknown leads to uncomfortable rather quickly for me.

As we drove the 45 minute trip to the site, I reflected on, nearly meditated on, the unknown. Where do I park? What entrance do I use? What paperwork needs to be ready first? Will my paperwork be correct. If I am early, where will I wait? By the time I arrived, I was quite uncomfortable. Then, I met the staff.

A man met me at the door, opened it for me, and directed me to a young woman who looked like she was a cruise director. She kindly asked to check my temperature and inquire about any possible exposure. Still smiling, she directed my to a table where another person checked off my appointment.

I then followed a series of dots on the floor that marked six-foot distances and directed my path. A woman greeted me again and directed me to a station with two nurses. They were comforting and calm, willing to answer any questions and explaining what they were going to do. I received my shot, and then a man led me to a properly distanced, just sanitized seat and asked me to wait 15 minutes. Staff kept checking to see if people were okay and offered some light conversation and humor. When my time came to leave, another person met me at the room and directed me to the exit.

Throughout the whole experience, I felt welcome and secure, quite the difference from how I felt when I parked. What made the difference? People. People with a concern for others. People who understood how those of us coming through would feel. People who practiced radical hospitality.

Walking back to the car, I was amazed by the hospitality. I immediately thought about people who visit church. We all want to believe we are welcoming, but is that what our guests experience? Do we take the time to think about how people will feel every moment they are with us? What do people need to feel safe and supported? How much hospitality do we actually show?

It is not my goal to diminish anything that the church tries to offer, but if we are offering our best for Christ, shouldn’t we do all we can to improve the way we welcome people in the name of the Lord? Are we willing to be uncomfortable, so that others can experience the power of radical hospitality?

I intentionally spend time with people outside the church. The truth is, they often have the best perspective on how well we are fulfilling our call. Just this week I read through some responses on Twitter to the question, “Do you go to church?” I was amazed. I expected some zealous Christians and some equally zealous atheists. What I did not expect was the vast number of comments that spoke of leaving the church due to deep wounds, theology that wounded people, and lack of love. One person said, “I have never felt as insignificant and unwanted as when I was in church. I’ll never go back.”

My heart breaks in moments like these. I used to be someone who excused these concerns away. “That was one pastor or one church,” “It was probably bad communication,” or worst of all, “They probably just couldn’t handle the truth.” I am ashamed to admit I ever thought this way. Now, I recognize the powerful need to listen, to really hear, not just the words, but the heart of the person sharing them. I need to care and accept that we often miss the mark, and sometimes, we cause harm. That is not what comes to mind when I ask the question, “What would Jesus do?”

Maybe, it is time for the church to look at some volunteers and medical workers who cared enough to offer such amazing hospitality to people who came confused, afraid, and anxious. Maybe, as we return to worship services and church activities, we can come back in a new way, with a new mission. Maybe, our hospitality could be so filled with the love of Christ that people would not only feel welcome and wanted, but come away knowing they are transformed by the experience.

When I left the vaccine site, my step was faster and lighter. I had a smile on my face and hope in my heart, and the first thing I did was tell someone, then some others, and then even more. I experienced something in the short time I was there. It changed me. I believe it is time for the church to be the church, offering radical hospitality that makes an eternal difference in the lives of all who cross our path.

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The door is shut. No, I am not recalling a line from Lord of the Rings, though it is a good scene. I am quite literally stating that our door is shut. Monday afternoon, following an excursion for medications and some final groceries, we returned home to settle in while we wait. There is plenty to do, but most of it will be done from inside. As we put the final stores into the refrigerator and pantry, my wife commented, “The door is shut… just like on the ark.” We laughed, and now it is a household joke. We are sealed in to wait out our time until things are restored.

I love how God uses seemingly insignificant things to give revelation. While we are laughing about our inside joke, I am pondering what the story of the flood says to our current situation. No, I am not suggesting that God is executing judgement with a virus, or that we are all doomed in some way. I am pondering isolation – waiting alone for the storm to abate.

Forty days locked in a ship with your family and a bunch of animals has its challenges, and waiting while the storm rages around you is intimidating. As we are isolated with our families, looking on while the storm moves across our country and around the world, the challenges and concerned thoughts are very real. We do not all express our feelings the same way, but the issues are there.

This afternoon, I watched an interview with a man who is in quarantine after testing positive for COVID-19. One of his earliest statements was a response to friends and family asking why he put himself at risk. He said, “I mean, we have to live our lives, right?” While I cannot know for sure what his motives were, I am not easily convinced it was selfishness or irresponsibility. I felt him expressing the deeper call of a heart desperate to avoid isolation from life. The irony is his choices ultimately isolated him until he recovers.

No one wants to be alone. No one wants to be left out. We may cherish a few days apart, and some precious quiet time, but when that begins to move from personal time to isolation, it creates an entirely different emotion. The Bible doesn’t say much about Noah’s emotions, or the feelings of his family. It is easy to view them with a sacred lens that makes them quite different from us, but the witness of the Scripture is that even the most heroic figures experienced life much as we do. When the door closes, there is room for laughter. Weeks later, we feel the separation.

Last night, I hosted a Facebook Live hour to connect with our church family. It was riddled with tech issues. I might have complicated my efforts by attempting to use too much technology. I saw the flaws and I wondered if it made any difference. As we closed our time together, several people mentioned how much it meant to them; how much they needed it. This is not applause for me, but an affirmation of the value of community. The simplest expression of connection makes a significant difference to someone who feels alone.

Many people feel like the doors are shut. This time of social distancing only sheds light on a daily struggle of separation. Currently, we are concerned about those who are alone and afraid. We want to be sure no one is left out. We may want to use this time to ponder if we have the same concerns when it’s an ordinary Thursday. All around us people go without, without food, shelter, clothing, and community. There is always a need for connection.

Sheltering in place will pass. Soon we will return to life beyond our homes. Maybe, if we are sensitive to the Spirit, we will be better prepared to open our doors, and to help others know it is safe to open theirs. Maybe this lenten sacrifice will produce a harvest of compassion and community. Together, let’s pray that it does.

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The old Boy Scout motto, “Be prepared,” is sage advice, especially in crisis, but how do you prepare for something you don’t know to expect?

I took a class during my second year of seminary entitled, “How to Pastor During a Pandemic.” Okay, that’s not true. Actually, there were no classes addressing community crises, and there is no secret clergy instruction book for ministry in these situations. Of course, there is no such class or book for teachers, restaurant owners, and grocery stores. Most of us outside the medical community are learning as we go, and considering the nature of the new virus, I can only imagine healthcare workers have a learning curve as well.

How do you live ready for a global crisis? I am sure there are numerous websites that would confidently declare their protocols, and there are general government guidelines, but each situation is unique and people are unpredictable. In our current situation, mass purchases of hand sanitizer and cleaning products are not surprising, but most of us were not prepared for a toilet paper shortage. Life is surreal at the moment.

There are many things we can do to prepare for life’s uncertainties, but, as our current situation shows us, things change, and our best efforts to prepare our homes and family, our finances and our pantry, even our thoughts and emotions, may still leave us surprised. The world is ever changing and despite our best efforts, we will never have enough to control it. Control is an illusion. It is never fully in our hands, and lack of control can lead to denial or great fear.

In 2 Timothy 1:7, we are reminded, “God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” Here is our preparation, and here is our peace. We have divine power, not to control, but to walk in faith and confidence. We are given holy love for ourselves and others to provide care, compassion, and support in challenging times. Above all, we have the mind of Christ which gives us peace and perspective.

I want to know what the days ahead will bring. I imagine we all do, but that knowledge is beyond our grasp, and trying to fully control our future removes us from the present and fills us with anxiety. The more we seek to control, the greater our fear. The more we surrender control, living by faith in the moment, the more we can embrace the Spirit, and the holy preparedness that dwells within us.

We should make wise choices, not living arrogantly or foolishly, but we should also trust that God prepares us to face each moment. As we do, our eyes are opened with compassion for the world around us, and we are able to dwell by faith in the moment we are given.

May you have the power, love, and sound mind the Spirit gives you. May you see yourself, your family, and the world through Jesus’s eyes. May you live prepared as you open yourself to God and to the world. We do not know the future, but we know by faith, that we are prepared.

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Four weeks of Advent anticipation brought us to this moment, Christmas is upon us. Many of us will gather for worship tonight, celebrating the birth of Jesus. Many families will make time for private worship to bless one another in celebration of God’s great love.

Many people will not see the spiritual reality playing out before them. Like the multitudes in Bethlehem two millennia ago, the busyness of the season, families, and expectations will eclipse the monumental event that takes place in an unexpected place. There, in the midst of the ordinary Christmas chaos, all heaven is about to break loose.

It would be hard to deny that we live in tumultuous times. Deep divisions surround us, hatred seems commonplace, and fear is a ubiquitous emotion. Cultural prophets declare doom and destruction, while media capitalizes on the fear that grips us. If we were to believe all that we are told, everything is going to hell, but is it really?

We tend to think that our circumstances are unique, that our times are different than what came before us and we define the world through our daily experience. That may be normal, but it is very myopic. We are not the first to believe the world was falling apart, nor is our world the whole world. We are not the first to need good news, nor are we the first to receive it. Amidst the shouting of bad reports, is the small, steady declaration of Good News. It is the darkness that surrounds us that is about to be pierced with the brightness of heaven, and the darkness will not overcome it (John 1:5).

While the fear-mongers attempt to play upon our emotions, we are bold to believe that, “of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end.” (Isaiah 9:7) Those who profit from the spirit of fear will do everything in their power to kill our hope and faith. Like King Herod who knew a messiah would dethrone him and was willing to resort to drastic measures to hold on to what he possessed, so modern Herods panic when faced with the loss of their position and control.

In spite of their best efforts, just as on the first Christmas, heaven breaks loose and nothing can stop it. Angels proclaim the good news to those who are waiting and reveal the wonder of the heavens in sight and song. The heavens declare the glory of God, calling the attentive to journey to the beauty of the new creation. In ordinary mangers of human hearts, the precious gift of heaven is born, and nothing in all of creation can separate us from him.

As we approach this blessed Christmas Eve, let the world shout a fearful message, for we know there is a better word. Let people trust in government leaders, power, wealth, and all the other trappings of the world, for our hope is in the name of the Lord. Once again, let us go to Bethlehem to see this thing that has happened. Let us seek the Savior born to us, who is Christ the Lord. Let us look into the eyes of the Love of heaven and adore him, for, through him, all heaven is about to break loose.

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