Faithful Writers

When I finally slowed down to read whole sections — sometimes whole books at a time — it hit me: this is a story. A messy, winding, human story about people trying to follow God.

If you say you are a Christian yet whip out the Enochs, Maccabees, Gad the Seer, Wisdom, Tobit, Judith, etc, when trying to prove a view, doctrine, or use it to object to something in the Bible. You're not even on the right track to begin with. If you're not a believer and do this, then that’s a whole different conversation.

As the world continues to get darker, it’s easy to get scared, to want to stay confined to the safety of our bubbles, and to be selfish with our time, effort, and money. But that’s not what we are called to do.

God is the World Cup Champion when it came to creating a definitive, active, and dynamic vocabulary on how we are to be and what we need to do. Don’t think God doesn’t expect you to put in a little elbow grease here.

Then, take your accompanying high heel and kick him down the steps, knowing perfectly well that man ain’t getting to heaven any other way, but the blood of Jesus.

‎His Word is my foundation, ‎Strong and deep, My heart anchored, ‎In eternal sleep.

Now, you might be saying, “If you know the tips, how do you fall to the bottom of the well?” Because it’s not magic. We’re all living real life here and — for whatever reasons — I’m sometimes tripped up along the way.

Since so many like to cherry-pick their form of Christianity these days to believe in, let's reconcile this. They hate the God of the Old Testament (God of Wrath) and choose to follow the God of the New Testament (God of Love).

I think more so, my mind should stay fixed on my Savior, the Author and Finisher of my Faith. The beauty of Who He is far more captivating than any of my five senses have beheld, albeit they’ve beheld much.

The Bible isn’t dead ink. Not because the pages themselves are like a magic potion. But because they have the ability to inspire the reader to living a wise life. There are lines in Scripture I’ve read a hundred times. But then one day, in the middle of a mess, or a moment of quiet, or a hard conversation with God, I’ll read that same line again — and it lands different. It breathes.

‎Some people are toxic, some are not meant for you. You need to do a deliberate act of sieving the number of people on your friend list, contact list, et cetra.

Turns out, the most unexpected place to grow your faith is on a classroom floor with a glue stick in one hand and someone’s lost tooth in the other.

Tear rolls down a cheek in close-up of an eye with long eyelashes. The grayscale image conveys a mood of sadness or emotion.

The kitchen that held so many Jesus jam sessions and dance parties with her roommate. So many conversations and tears where the two had talked about their dreams, futures, and curiosities about where God would take them.

It’s what makes us morally responsible before God. He gave us a will so that love and obedience could be genuine, not robotic. God doesn’t force obedience — He invites it. The will is where we answer that invitation.

I keep seeing this argument pop up, and I find it both obnoxious and very ignorant. The argument is that Mary wasn’t actually a virgin, and

They slapped religion on their thrones, not because they loved God, but because it kept the people in line. Faith became their favorite leash. And sadly, America is still repeating it.

I’d feel bad if I skipped a day. Worse if I missed two. By day three, I was convinced God was giving me the silent treatment and I’d better double up on devotions just to get back in His good graces.

And if we stopped yanking this verse out of the middle of a very intimate, emotional conversation — if we actually slowed down and listened to what was really happening — we might hear something much more human. Much more hopeful. And far more powerful than a doctrinal threat.

The encouragement for today is that having great faith does not exempt us from making mistakes. Such errors originate from either attempting to help God do what He alone promises, our to add our own desires to the limits of what actually commanded us to do.

I didn’t walk away from faith — but I did start asking harder questions. And wouldn’t you know it, that’s when something deeper began to grow.

Today, some have tried to surgically separate the teachings of Jesus from those of the disciples. In effect, they eliminate all the New Testament save for the four Gospel stories. Some prefer the teachings of Jesus without the complications the Epistles bring to Christianity.

We’ve built entire sermons around words Jesus never spoke. It’s time we stop preaching a misquote and start living the truth.

There’s something profoundly sacred about folding socks, waiting at stoplights, and fixing dinner for the umpteenth time. These are not wasted moments. They’re invitations. Brother Lawrence, the old monk who found God in doing dishes, once said, “The time of business does not with me differ from the time of prayer.”