Surely, the people rejoice, right? The past 400 years had not been easy and the people of Israel were not living their best lives. Israel was living under Roman rule, still awaiting the arrival of the Messiah. Of all the possible futures Israel had imagined, this likely wasn’t one of them.

Even in the midst of such a bleak situation, God remembered his people and sent a prophet. After waiting centuries, was the long-awaited prophet welcomed with fanfare and celebration? Not quite. Some people welcomed his message, others rejected him.

To be fair, John the Baptist cut a striking figure. He lived in the desert and was known to eat wild locusts (eeeeew!) and wear garments of camel hair styled with a leather belt. Even more than his appearance, John’s words were utterly shocking. He had the audacity to come and preach repentance — to the children of Abraham! Here’s a sample of John’s content:

“Brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Therefore produce fruit consistent with repentance. And don’t start saying to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father,’ for I tell you that God is able to raise up children for Abraham from these stones. The ax is already at the root of the trees. Therefore, every tree that doesn’t produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.” (Luke 3:7-9)

Far from tempering his message to gain followers, John called the religious leaders a “brood of vipers.” He rejected their false religion, called them to true repentance, and challenged them to lead lives bearing the fruit thereof.

Clearly, John had the goods. He was called by God before he was even born. And the opening verses of Luke 3 give a shocking commentary:

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, while Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, Herod was tetrarch of Galilee, his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Iturea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, God’s word came to John the son of Zechariah in the wilderness. (Luke 3:1-2)

This chapter opens with Luke orienting us to time and place. We know that John was the son of Zechariah, the priest. Zechariah spent his time doing priestly duties and John was expected to do the same. Instead of following in his father’s footsteps, as everyone expected, John made his home in the desert.

We also learn about the power players of this time. Tiberius was emperor. Pilate was governor of Judea. Herod was over Galilee. Thanks to Luke’s detailed record, we know who was in the palace and who was ruling the priesthood. These are the people the world would have considered important. They had impressive-sounding titles. But the word of the Lord didn’t come to any of them.

The word of the Lord came to John, a man living in the desert. And here’s the thing: people were coming to the desert to hear him! John wasn’t operating from the religious centers of power. He was in the wilderness, and yet people were willing to leave those centers behind to hear him and be baptized by him.

John is one of my favorite Bible characters, not only because of his unwavering commitment, but also because of his humanity. He was utterly uncompromising. And John was the first person to alert me to a pattern I have repeatedly observed throughout Scripture: God loves to use outsiders. Here are just a few examples I’ve seen recently:

• John the Baptist was an outsider. He operated outside the established religious system.

• Anna was a widow, placing her among the most marginalized members of her society.

• Jesus was an outsider, without the conventional credentials or religious pedigree people might have expected from someone claiming such authority.

• The original twelve disciples were outsiders as well. They were ordinary people without elite religious credentials, social influence, or positions of power.

• And throughout his ministry, Jesus deliberately included women—people whose voices and authority were often diminished by the patriarchal structures of their society.

The details are different, but the pattern is the same: God repeatedly calls, equips, and uses people whom the surrounding culture does not necessarily consider powerful, important, or qualified.

The Problem With Our Perception
Sometimes people are excluded because of the perceptions of others. It can be painful to be an outsider, but even more so when you’re discounted for reasons you didn’t choose. This was the case with David. 1 Samuel 16 describes Samuel coming to Jesse’s home, ostensibly to offer a sacrifice, and he asks Jesse and his sons to come. Jesse doesn’t even think enough of David to invite him for the ceremony. He’s only mentioned when Samuel inquires because none of the sons present had been chosen by the Lord. David was an outsider even in his own family.

Though he was an afterthought in his father’s eyes, and a nuisance in the eyes of his brothers, (1 Samuel 17:28-30), he was the one the Lord had chosen to lead Israel. Nothing about David made him an outsider. He was an outsider because the perception of others made him that way. But our perceptions can be faulty.

Samuel took one look at David’s older brother, Eliab, and thought he must be the next king of Israel. He was tall, and apparently, he looked the part. But the Lord stopped Samuel cold:

“But the Lord said to Samuel, ‘Do not look at his appearance or his stature because I have rejected him. Humans do not see what the Lord sees, for humans see what is visible, but the Lord sees the heart.’”

Even Samuel needed his perceptions to be corrected. He was looking at appearance, but God sees the heart. The one man excluded was the very one God had chosen. If even Samuel could misjudge the person God had chosen, perhaps we should be careful about assuming that our own perceptions are always accurate.

David’s story reminds us that being overlooked and being unqualified are two very different things. Jesse didn’t think David was important enough to invite, but Jesse’s assessment did not negate God’s assessment. David was still David when standing in a field with the sheep. He didn’t become God’s chosen one when Samuel poured oil over his head. He was already the one God had chosen. Samuel’s anointing only revealed what everyone else had failed to see. Note that this was not the moment David took the throne. He had a formal coronation by the elders of Israel in 2 Samuel 5. The position did eventually come, but David had endured a whole lot by this point. The coronation affirmed externally what God had already formed in David internally.

Here’s what I don’t want you to miss:

David was chosen even while tending sheep.

John was the prophetic preacher and forerunner of the Christ in the desert.

Of course, being rejected doesn’t make someone prophetic. Being overlooked doesn’t automatically mean someone is called, and a prestigious title doesn’t mean someone has God’s approval. Our job is not to make rejection proof of our calling or recognition proof of our worth. Our job is to know God well enough to recognize his voice.

How much of our lives do we spend waiting for someone else to confirm what God has already asked us to do? Don’t confuse recognition with obedience. David wasn’t waiting for the throne to become faithful, and John wasn’t waiting for Jerusalem’s religious establishment to approve him before preaching. They were already doing what God had given them to do.

If you’re still in the field, God sees you. If you’re in the wilderness, you are not forgotten. If you’ve been overlooked by people, you have not been overlooked by God. A title is a position. A calling is an assignment.

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The question isn’t whether we’re standing in a palace, a church, a field, or a desert. The question is whether we know the voice of the One who called us and have the faith to follow his leading.

Questions for Reflection

• Where might I be waiting for human recognition before acting on something God has already asked me to do?

• Have I confused a lack of recognition with a lack of calling, or, conversely, assumed that rejection proves I am called?

• Whose voice has more influence over how I understand my identity and purpose: God’s, or the people around me?

• Where might my own perceptions be keeping me from recognizing someone God is calling, equipping, or using?

While I certainly identify with her disappointment in the actions and attitudes of many in the United States, I don’t think rejecting God is the answer. I say this with all tenderness and affection because I know that this friend is not the first person to do so, and she will not be the last. She is reacting to real injustice, real violence, real suffering. People have died. I don’t deny or minimize the horror of all that is going on. In fact, I agree that it is right to be angry about such things (I write about that HERE). Any human with empathy and a heart for justice would (and should) be outraged.

But if rejecting God isn’t the answer, what is?

Lament.

For many Christians, lament feels unfamiliar, as though it belongs to another era rather than the life of faith today. Lament is a way of engaging with God, acknowledging the reality of suffering in the midst of pain and struggle.

The Forgotten Language of Lament
First, I must establish that lament is very much a biblical and godly practice. 30% to 40% of the Psalms are psalms of lament, and nearly 70% include elements of lament. In addition, there is a whole book of the Bible called Lamentations, entirely composed of poetic lament over the wake of Jerusalem’s destruction.

Much of my understanding of lament has been shaped by Dr. Soong-Chan Rah’s book, Prophetic Lament. Rah argues that the American church has largely abandoned lament because our theology has been shaped more by abundance than by suffering. A theology formed in abundance is a theology of celebration. The theology of celebration is focused on consistency and sustainability. “The well-off do not expect their faith to begin in a cry, but in a song. They do not expect or need intrusion, but rejoice in the stability and the durability of a world and social order that have been beneficial to them.” Rah argues that communities formed primarily by a theology of celebration often resist disruption because the existing social order has largely worked in their favor. Applied to the American context, this mindset can show up in the desire to preserve economic systems that benefit us rather than asking whether they reflect God’s justice.

Dr. Rah goes on to note that the theology of those in less favorable circumstances is drastically different. Lament is the language of those who suffer, but Scripture also invites all God’s people to learn that language — and to lament with and for one another. The theology of the “have nots” is one that acknowledges the struggles of life and cries out against existing injustices. This is a theology that challenges the status quo rather than celebrate it. In practice, this means Christians should be willing to question economic policies that benefit the powerful at the expense of the vulnerable. Lament cries out for change. However, this cry is silenced in the United States, where the dominant language is celebration and its expectation that things will remain as they are.

The result is a theology that is imbalanced and incomplete. Many in the United States flourish under the current conditions and seek to maintain the system of inequality. However, without lament, we lose much of the gospel message. Jesus came announcing the Good News of the Kingdom, which functions very differently than the status quo of American society. Therefore, the people of God need both celebration and lament to faithfully participate in the Kingdom of God. Lament provides corrective elements to the triumphalism of the Christian West: engaging with the suffering, examining existing power structures, recognizing and honoring diversity, and crying out for change. (For more on this, please read Prophetic Lament, by Soong-Chan Rah, PhD)

Why We Need Lament
We lament because grief is an inescapable, divinely appointed rhythm of life. Ecclesiastes 3:4 tells us that there is “a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.” A few chapters later in Ecclesiastes 7:2-4, we’re told that it is “better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting.” The teacher adds that “sorrow is better than laughter” because facing the reality of death forces us to contemplate eternal things, while a life fully given to pleasure and distraction is foolish. Finally, we see the people of God observe mourning periods for loved ones (Genesis 50:10) and for national leaders (Deuteronomy 34:8). And we don’t just grieve the loss of a life, though this is appropriate. We can grieve the loss of a job, relationship, or an old way of life (whether it was positive or negative). I have a friend who is grieving the fact that her 9-month-old no longer fits his 6-month clothes. This is also appropriate. Grief is good, healthy and necessary.

So What is a Lament and How Do We Do It?
Lament is what people do when life doesn’t make sense. It’s a prayer of bewilderment, sorrow, or confusion. It’s the honest cry of the heart when life doesn’t seem to match what we know of God’s character and promises. Lament teaches us not to pretend in those moments. Instead, lament teaches us to pray in those moments.

There are four movements of a lament. We will use Psalm 13, a classic psalm of lament, as an example as we walk through the four movements together.

Psalm 13
1 O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever?
How long will you look the other way?
2 How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul,
with sorrow in my heart every day?
How long will my enemy have the upper hand?
3 Turn and answer me, O Lord my God!
Restore the sparkle to my eyes, or I will die.
4 Don’t let my enemies gloat, saying, “We have defeated him!”
Don’t let them rejoice at my downfall.
5 But I trust in your unfailing love.
I will rejoice because you have rescued me.
6 I will sing to the Lord
because he is good to me.

Movement 1: Come to God
We see this in Psalm 13:1. David seeks the Lord, right in the middle of his pain and frustration. This is a step a lot of people miss. Some people hold on to the pain. Others look to other people. Still others employ a number of coping mechanisms to deal with what they feel. None of these is ideal. Rather than choosing any lesser things, David comes to the Lord with his problem.

Movement 2: Bring Your Complaint
David is very candid in stating his complaint. David cries out because God seems absent. He does not try to minimize his pain or make it sound religious. Instead, he pours out his heartfelt anguish.

Many hesitate to be truly honest before the Lord. However, the Bible shows us time and time again that God can handle our sorrow, our questions, our rage, and whatever else we can muster up.

Movement 3: Ask for Help
Next, David lays out his petition. He tells God what he wants: for God to intervene. This is where we cry out for God to help us or to make things right. This is where we remind the Lord of his promises.

Movement 4: Choose to Trust
The fourth step is where we remind ourselves of God’s goodness and his faithfulness, as we see in verse 5. We rehearse all the times he has been our Help, our Healer, our Way Maker. And with this in mind, we choose to trust God. Though things don’t look the way we want right now, we choose to trust in God’s plan and God’s goodness. The lament may begin in anguish but it ends with hopeful expectation.

What Lament is Not
Lament is not giving up on God’s promises. Lament is not the absence of hope. Lament does not mean that we stop praying and working for change. Lament is not a descent into despair. Instead it invites God into the very situation where his help is needed. Lament is the language of hope in a broken world. Because we know God is good, we refuse to pretend evil is not. Lament refuses to call evil good, but it also refuses to believe evil gets the final word.

In this particular moment, there is much to lament. In many countries, Christians are persecuted for following Jesus. In others, like the United States, Christianity is being wrongly appropriated to justify injustice, greed, violence, and cruelty — the very things Jesus stands against. What do we do in the face of this? We lament because we believe that Jesus is making all things new. Until that day comes, we refuse both naïve optimism and cynical despair. Instead, we bring our grief honestly before God, trusting that he hears, he sees, and he will one day make things new.

Questions for Reflection:

• What grief, disappointment, or injustice have you been carrying that you need to bring honestly before God?

• When life doesn’t make sense, are you more likely to withdraw from God, distract yourself, or bring your questions to him? Why?

• How has your church or faith community shaped your understanding of lament? Is it a language you’ve been encouraged to practice?

• Where do you see signs of God’s faithfulness—even as you continue to lament what is broken?

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Couples in their 20s with small kids

Couples In their thirties with school age kids

Couples in their 40s with teens and adult children

Since my husband and I were in our 40s and trying to have a baby, it became clear very quickly that there was no group for us. With their assumptions about what our lives should look like based on our age, they effectively locked us out of all their groups.

Unfortunately, this was only my introduction to the never-ending list of assumptions people make about me and what my life should look like. I’ve written here and discussed on my podcast what it’s like to confront those assumptions again and again and again.

The assumptions of other people are some of the heaviest chains a human can bear.

And as soon as you manage to get from under them, it seems that people rush to heap more assumptions on.

I have a particular frustration with the assumptions that people usually make about the word family. I am so tired of people defining a family as a husband, wife, and kids. I was very vocal about this frustration when I was on staff at church. Now that I’m working on a project for an organization close to my heart, I feel the same frustration rising. Churches (and people outside of the church, to a lesser degree), often conflate children with the definition of family.

I see it far too often. Go to a church’s website and there is usually a tab for Families. Go to that tab and you’ll find ministry for little kids, students, and youth. This usually elicits a big sigh because I’ve encountered yet another church that equates children with family. The definition of family can become so narrow that it excludes many of the people in our lives.

Assumptions of what a family looks like are nothing new. In fact, Jesus faced the same assumptions. And he so often does, Jesus expands and deepens what we think we understand. In Matthew 12, Jesus completely redefines who his family is:

While he was still speaking with the crowds, his mother and brothers were standing outside wanting to speak to him. Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.”

He replied to the one who was speaking to him, “Who is my mother and who are my brothers?” Stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”

Matthew 12:46-50

In this text, Jesus is teaching and he meets a very strong assumption. His audience certainly assumed that Jesus’ biological family should take precedence over the crowd he was teaching. In response, Jesus redefines family on the spot. The audience had a narrow definition, his biological relatives, and he immediately reinterprets what family means. Jesus’ definition of family was not ultimately determined by genetics but by one’s relationship to God.

I am comforted by this partly due to the fact that my husband and I don’t have kids. Are we not a family? What about the eleven years I spent as a single adult with no parents, children, or siblings? Of course my husband and I are a family. Of course I was a family of one for eleven years. I just didn’t fit the church’s narrow definition, and that’s a problem.

This is a problem because I’m not the only one excluded by the church’s assumptions. What many define as the traditional nuclear family (mother, father, and children) is not the majority. In 2026, families have a whole variety of meanings:

• Single-parent households

• Grandparents raising grandchildren

• Blended families

• Couples without children

• Single-person households (and Census data indicates that single-person households are increasing so this population is not going away any time soon.)

We can take this further. Family can look very different due to estrangement. I met a gentleman at a conference who had no contact with his family biological family for many years because of his drug addition. During those years, the community he found among fellow addicts was the only family he had. In his years of recovery he had managed to rebuild some of those bridges, but many relationships were lost permanently. Family remained a very painful topic for him, even years later.

Considering that so many people are excluded from the church’s narrow definition of family, why build a ministry around what society looked like several decades ago?

It’s Complicated
If I’ve learned nothing else from exploring different churches it’s that churches are really good at ministering to couples and kids. Churches often organize ministry around couples and children because those categories are easier to recognize and structure around. Seniors, singles, and all the rest kind of get overlooked because these groups are much harder to minister to.

Consider the category “single.” A twenty-five-year-old single mother, a fifty-six-year-old lifelong single woman, a recent widower, and a young adult in a new relationship may all share the same label while living vastly different realities. The challenge of ministering to such diverse experiences is real. Yet the difficulty of ministry does not absolve us of the responsibility to see one another fully.

Who Gets to Define You?
Words have no substance but they can carry tremendous weight. Words can heal, but they can also inflict wounds. This is not about being politically correct, it’s about acknowledging the person’s God-given dignity.

And maybe that’s my issue with not being included in many churches’ definition of family: it denies me the dignity that God has given me. It removes me from the Family category and classifies me as “Other.” And when the place that invites you to belong creates structures that prevent you from doing so, it produces a profound dissonance.

In moments like this, I invite you to do what Jesus did so beautifully: lovingly disrupt the assumptions imposed on you. Refuse to give people power they never had in the first place. God is the only one with the power to define any of us. People can try, but their attempts have no power if they find no place to land in your heart. So let the words of Jesus fill your heart, leaving no room for the definitions and assumptions people try to put on you. Jesus calls you friend, mother, father, sister, brother, daughter, son. He calls you his.

People and their assumptions don’t have the final say.

Jesus has the final say.

Questions for Reflection
What assumptions have other people made about your life, and how have those assumptions shaped the way you see yourself?

Where have you experienced belonging in Christian community—and where have you experienced exclusion?

If Jesus were to redefine “family” in your life today, who might he invite you to see differently?

However, this creates an emotional and theological tension: how can we be sure that God will handle the situation appropriately? Letting go demands trust. If we are not convinced that God will act wisely and justly, we’ll inevitably look for ways to control the situation ourselves. We’ll create contingency plans, rehearse conversations, and search for ways to ensure the outcome we want. Taking our hands off the situation requires confidence that God is able to handle it better than we can. That’s not easy to do.

“Worry is not believing God will get it right, and bitterness is believing God got it wrong.”

Timothy Keller

When we’ve been hurt, or we witness others being hurt, how can we trust that God will make things right?

That’s a big question, and one that may be impossible to answer definitively. But since I created this tension, I will also share how I’m thinking through it.

Our confidence that God will make things right is rooted in his character. Scripture reveals that character through God’s long track record of faithfulness, mercy, and justice. I could choose any number of examples, but the one I think demonstrates this most clearly is the book of Esther. I will not attempt to tell the entire story or bring out every point in the book. For the purposes of this discussion, I want to take a high-level view of the story, zoom in on a few specifics, and talk about what this shows us about God.

The book of Esther tells the story of Esther, a Jewish orphan who is living in Persia. She is eventually selected to become queen, but maintains close ties with her cousin and legal guardian, Mordecai. Mordecai is a fascinating character and a man of principles. He overhears a plot to assassinate the King and saves his life. Unfortunately, Mordecai has a hater named Haman. Haman is both wealthy and powerful, but has a fragile ego. Because Mordecai refuses to bow down before him, Haman gets the king to approve a decree to destroy the entire Jewish population in Persia.

In response, Mordecai asks Esther to appeal to the king to save her people. Esther agrees to do so. After a lovely banquet, Haman returns home in high spirits, but the king has trouble sleeping. He asks to be read the royal record and is reminded of Mordecai saving his life. The following morning, Haman appears early before the king, who asks him what should be done for a person the king wished to honor. Haman outlines a lavish celebration, where the person is paraded around the city in the king’s robe and riding the king’s horse. A noble is to announce that this is what the king does for those he wishes to honor.

In a shocking twist of events, Haman is ordered to do this very thing for Mordecai, whom Haman hates bitterly. He returns home completely humiliated, but had no time to rest as he was invited to another banquet. At that banquet, Esther reveals that Haman is behind the plot to destroy her and the rest of the Jewish people. The king is enraged and orders that Haman be executed on the very pole he had erected for Mordecai.

Though Haman has been destroyed, there is still an edict ordering the mass slaughter of the Jewish population throughout the Persian provinces. With Mordecai’s help, a second edict is issued indicating that the Jewish people are allowed to defend themselves from attack. Mordecai was promoted, the Jewish people defeated their enemies, and the feast of Purim was instituted to commemorate this victory.

There Was Injustice
There were several instances of injustice. Haman has some serious issues. Despite his wealth and power, he still needed the adoration of everyone around him. When he didn’t get it, he decided that an entire population had to die. And he was so obsessed with Mordecai that he couldn’t wait until the appointed date. He wanted Mordecai destroyed immediately.

God Intervened
Haman first has to heap lavish praise and honor on Mordecai, his enemy. This was the exact opposite of what he planned for. His plans to glorify himself completely backfired.

Next, when he is identified as the one who wants to kill Esther and the other Jewish people, Haman is impaled on the very pole he had erected for Mordecai. Again, his plans for evil backfire and Haman is destroyed.

The story is remarkable because God’s people are not delivered through personal vengeance. Instead, God works through a series of seemingly ordinary events to preserve them. From Esther’s selection as queen, to the king’s insomnia, to Haman devising the means of his own execution, we can see God’s work in the midst of a terrible situation.

What does this tell us?
God’s people will suffer injustice. This is seen consistently throughout Scripture. This story is no exception. Mordecai does refuse to submit to Haman’s demands, but this did not merit the destruction of an entire population. This is an outsized reaction to say the least. Still, every person of Jewish descent was in danger.

As then, the people of God often face danger and injustice today. As in the story of Esther, God is present and active even when we can’t perceive him.

God isn’t even mentioned in the book of Esther, but his fingerprints are everywhere.

God is working behind the scenes to make things right. Often, he’s orchestrating the solution before we even know we have a problem. Esther was already in place when the evil plot is conceived. God preserved his people and provided a means for them to defend themselves. Those who tried to destroy them were defeated.

We can’t know how that deliverance will look. God is endlessly creative in saving his people. We also don’t get to control the timeframe. But we can be sure that no injustice escapes God’s notice and that he will ultimately make things right in his timing and according to his perfect plan.

The Encouragement
In a world where there is no shortage of wickedness, the story of Esther is a great encouragement to me. It reminds me that evil and hatred are not new. It reminds me that we serve a God who loves justice and remains faithful to his people even in the midst of evil.

Finally, this story is a powerful reminder that God is not only acting behind the scenes to make things right, God is several moves ahead. Despite the schemes of the wicked, things unfold in a way that no one could have predicted. God uses the most unlikely means to bless his people. All the things Haman wanted for himself went to bless Mordecai. And the suffering he planned for Mordecai, he experienced himself. Mordecai did not orchestrate this. God did.

Does this mean that God will reverse the actions of all our adversaries? Not necessarily. But this story does tell me that God will help his people, and all the wealth, power, and strategy in the world cannot prevent him from coming to our aid.

So when I consider the power, the faithfulness, and the incomprehensible love of God, it’s a little easier to back off and let him take care of the wicked. God is holy. This is his character. Righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne (Psalm 89:14). God has a long track record of making things right and he is not about to stop any time soon.

Yes, there is plenty of wickedness in our world. And yes, it sometimes seems like the wicked are winning. But the same God who delivered Esther and her people is our deliverer.

But the wicked are rich.

The wicked are powerful.

The wicked spend their time devising evil plans.

God will make things right. How? I have no idea. Esther certainly didn’t know how. Mordecai didn’t know how. They simply acted faithfully with the light they had and trusted God with the outcome.

When I feel overwhelmed by the wickedness around me, I remember that God is committed to making things right. In that I can rest. The wicked and their schemes fade from view as I fix my eyes on the unsearchable greatness of God (Psalm 145:3).

Questions for Reflection:

• What situation(s) in your life are you struggling to place in God’s hands, and why is it difficult to trust him with the outcome?

• How does the story of Esther strengthen your confidence in God’s character and his ability to work behind the scenes for our good?

• What would it look like for you to act faithfully with the light you have today while trusting God with the results?

For a long time, though, I looked with suspicion at verses 19 to 22. After extolling the virtues of our Creator, David seems to take a left turn to talk about his hatred for the wicked and he does so in very strong terms.

God, if only you would kill the wicked—you bloodthirsty men, stay away from me—
who invoke you deceitfully.
Your enemies swear by you falsely.
Lord, don’t I hate those who hate you,
and detest those who rebel against you?
I hate them with extreme hatred;
I consider them my enemies.

Psalm 139:19-22

Where does one even start with these verses? David is openly expressing hatred for wicked people and calling for their execution. He quite literally asks God to kill them. I want you to let that sink in for a moment. When is the last time you asked God to kill someone?

That’s harsh to say the least. David feels strongly and is asking God to solve the problem decisively and permanently. Psalm 139 is not the only psalm that shows this kind of unflinching honesty. The psalms are filled with adoration and praise. They are also filled with lament, cries for deliverance, anger, and grief. This is one of the most beautiful things about the psalms: they capture the full range of human emotions. They speak to the entire human experience.

This blatant hatred for people was shocking. For a long time, I struggled to reconcile the “man after God’s own heart” expressing hatred and calling for the destruction of the wicked. How could such emotions be consistent with loving God and loving one’s neighbor?

Further reading on the subject taught me that there’s a special category of psalms that call for judgment, calamity, and destruction upon one’s enemies. These are called imprecatory psalms, and examples include Psalm 35, 69, 109, and 137. These verses didn’t get published accidentally. This section of Psalm 139 was included on purpose, and these are not even the most graphic examples of such requests. What is this about?

I think there are a couple of important things to note here:

• These verses are included to demonstrate the importance of complete honesty with God. God can handle all of our emotions. He can handle our questions, our raging, our calling for curses, and whatever else we can muster up. And he wants us to bring these things to him.

• It is also instructive to look at what has David so angry. This is not about personal vendettas. This is about justice and rebellion against God.

I remember the first time I prayed for someone’s death. I was working one of the worst jobs of my life: long hours, low pay, narcissistic boss. She had a tendency to hold long, spontaneous meetings. On this day, I got fed up with her behavior and prayed that she would drop dead on the spot. In the moment, I realized that was probably a horrible thing to do. I did not, however, retract my prayer. In that moment, I could relate to David’s emotion.

The following Sunday I related my experience to a dear friend, who barely let me finish my sentence before launching into prayer for my job situation. This is why you need good friends around you.

More recently, I once again find myself sharing David’s sentiment: I hate the wicked. When I look around and see:

• the violence and injustice unfolding in the United States every day.

• a friend struggling to deal with the financial consequences of a contractor’s negligence.

• another friend working through the lingering effects of childhood trauma.

• religious leaders using the language of faith to justify the harm they have caused.

I’ve endured a number of injustices, as many of you have. I know I’m not alone in being discriminated against because of my race, gender, appearance, or number of other factors. It makes me angry. Knowing that I’m not the only person experiencing it makes me even angrier. It makes me angry to see wickedness flourish.

I fully relate to David’s sentiment as he expressed his hatred for the violent, those who misuse God’s name, those who rebel against the Lord. The NKJV says he hates them with “perfect hatred.” There is no minimizing David’s sentiment. He is very clear.

The beauty isn’t that David feels hatred. Hatred is a common human emotion. The beauty is his willingness to bring whatever he is feeling before the Lord. Imprecatory psalms aren’t an invitation to endless rage and hatred. They certainly are not invitations to violence. They are not license to mistreat anyone or discriminate against anyone. These psalms are not an excuse to hate someone because they are different than you. David hates those who pervert justice and perpetuate wickedness. I think most of us can relate to that sentiment at least once in a while.

And I think that’s a good thing. We should be angry when people are mistreated. As the people of God, we absolutely should abhor evil wherever it is found. If we, like David, find ourselves hating the wicked, we should also seek the heart of God as David did.

Like David, we should be honest if we find ourselves hating the wicked. Psalm 139:4 assures us that God knows our words before we even speak them. Whatever we are feeling, God knows it whether we give voice to it or not. We must be honest with ourselves and with the Lord.

It’s hard to be honest with the Lord, especially with our most tender emotions. It can be hard to even be honest with ourselves regarding our deepest held emotions. But we must be honest — with ourselves and with the Lord. It does not help to deny our pain or delude ourselves into believing we’re okay. According to Pastor Rich Villodas, “the one place God does not dwell is illusion ... the universal human tendency to live according to deception; orienting our lives away from honesty, integrity, and congruence.” Honesty, even when that honesty is uncomfortable, is where we encounter God.

Identifying with the oppressed, and feeling rage on their behalf, is a sign of our humanity. In fact, Jason Gaboury points out that “the prayers of the Bible frequently rage, complain, and even curse one’s enemies – all when speaking with God! Learning to pray our rage is clearly an important step to becoming more human and more humane.”

It is worth pointing out that David is not taking matters into his own hands. He is asking God, the one who knows all, to bring justice. He does not attempt to punish the wicked himself. Instead, he voices his emotion and leaves it to God to do what is best.

David felt hatred for the wicked.

He was open and honest about this before the Lord.

Yet the most remarkable part of this passage is not David’s hatred, but what he does after acknowledging and expressing it:

Search me, God, and know my heart;
test me and know my concerns.
See if there is any offensive way in me;
lead me in the everlasting way.

Psalm 139:23-24

After expressing his outrage, David returns to the one thing that he can control: himself. He asked God to make his heart right and to examine his motives.

Yes, David has very candidly expressed his desire for the destruction of the wicked, but he knows that he can’t control what God does to them. He can only pray that God keep him from joining their number. It can be so easy to get caught up in condemning others that we forget our own tendency to sin. We can be so occupied with identifying the faults of others that we never examine ourselves. Here, David opens himself up to God’s assessment and prays for his guidance.

Like David, we may find ourselves feeling hatred. However, our hatred of evil should always drive us toward God, and toward self-examination rather than self-righteousness.

Questions for Reflection
What is your reaction to David’s honesty before the Lord? Are you able to be this honest with him? Why or why not?

How often does your criticism of wrong result in self-examination?

When was the last time your anger over injustice led you into deeper prayer rather than deeper resentment?

Discipleship is a topic that is very near and dear to my heart. Interestingly enough, I never heard the word discipleship until I was in my 30s, despite the fact that I was raised in church. As strange as it sounds, there’s a very simple reason for this. My church never talked about discipleship explicitly. What I’ve observed is that discipleship was baked into the culture and the very fabric of the church. Every event and initiative was an expression of discipleship. The church where I grew up didn’t talk about discipleship because they were too busy embodying discipleship. As a result, I became fascinated with the idea of discipleship as an adult.

I spent two years running a discipleship program for a large church. Many people, including myself, benefited from the program and thought it had some real strengths. Even so, this 10-week program is not what discipleship actually entails.

I am currently reading John Mark Comer’s Practicing the Way, where Comer gives language to something I have observed in various ministry settings: people are offered the opportunity to be Christians without becoming disciples. It creates a two-tier hierarchy in the church. What’s interesting is that Jesus never offered these options. Yet in many churches, discipleship is an optional add-on for those who are so inclined.

Dr. Greg Ogden rightly points out that large discipleship programs like Rooted are flawed in concept. Dr. Ogden reminds us that disciples can’t be mass produced. Discipleship is best done in an intimate setting. This is exactly the way Jesus operated. He did not spend the majority of his time and effort on the crowd, who was fickle and hadn’t really demonstrated any real commitment. He spent most of his time on a committed core group called, cleverly enough, disciples.

What confuses me is why the people of God have largely abandoned this method. We’ve traded in the incarnational life-on-life model for large groups for the cult of celebrity, scale, and the indicators of worldly success (large numbers, bigger buildings, bigger budgets).

So What is Discipleship?
Dr. Ogden defines discipleship as a relationship where we intentionally walk alongside another to encourage, correct, and challenge them to become more like Christ. Discipleship has three essential components:

• Relational vulnerability, where we openly discuss and confess our struggles and invite the Holy Spirit to transform us.

• The centrality of truth, where we open ourselves and our lives to one another in mutuality, based on the truth of God’s word. This is the place where we rebuild our lives on the truth of God’s word rather than on the world’s values.

• Mutual accountability, where we give authority to others to hold us accountable to standards that have been mutually agreed upon. This is where iron sharpens iron.

Discipleship is a slow, incarnational process, but a powerful one. Through his initial investment in eleven people, Jesus built a movement that is still going strong two thousand years later. Jesus did this by thinking small and focusing on quality over quantity. Paul took the same approach. He focused on investing in individuals rather than addressing crowds.

John Mark Comer’s approach is similar, but different. Comer describes discipleship as being an apprentice to Jesus. The goal is to be with him, becoming like him, and doing as he did. Comer argues that transformation happens based upon our willingness to reorient our lives around the practices, rhythms, and truths that Jesus himself did. We must welcome God’s direction and open our lives to his transforming power.

Consider This
Discipleship isn’t sexy. There won’t be large numbers to report. It requires time and presence. It offers nothing in the way of instant gratification. But it’s the most important challenge facing the church today.

Not as a church growth strategy. Discipleship is not that. But it is the way we live. Every single person on this planet is being discipled by something or someone. Do you know who is discipling you?

Hollywood?

Social Media Influencers?

Politicians?

Content Creators?

News Outlets?

Musical Artists?

John Mark Comer names the dangerous reality that many are unwilling to confront: the world is constantly shaping us. “What we are led to believe are just ads, news links, retweets, and random digital flotsam are, in reality, mass behavior modification techniques intentionally designed to influence how we think, feel, believe, shop, vote, and live.” This world is working 24/7 to disciple you into its ways. You must intentionally reject this and apprentice to Jesus.

This raises a difficult question for the church. If everyone is already being discipled by something, what exactly are we offering in response? Too often, churches offer membership when what people need is discipleship. The two are not synonymous, and confusing them has had profound consequences for the church’s witness and formation.

Why Discipleship Isn’t Membership
Discipleship is a way of life. It is a lifelong journey toward becoming more like Jesus. Too many churches offer membership instead of discipleship, but they are not the same.

Membership is a status. Once achieved, it is secure. Membership can create the illusion that belonging is the same thing as following Jesus. Members pick and choose what they will engage with and make their demands known. Members expect to be served.

Discipleship is a lifetime journey. Discipleship is marked by humility and surrender. Disciples submit to the demands of their master. Disciples know their role is to serve.

Membership and Discipleship could not be more different. Membership is easy — just sign your name on a form. Discipleship demands your whole life. Membership is attractive. Discipleship is costly.

The confusion between membership and discipleship didn’t happen by accident. It emerged from assumptions about success, growth, power, and control that the Western church has inherited from Empire.

Evangelism Shaped by Empire
Based on what I’m reading now, much of what we think of as evangelism is rooted in Empire. Throughout history, empires have frequently used religion to support conquest, justify expansion, reshape local cultures, and consolidate power. In many places, conversion to the faith became intertwined with political control, making it difficult to distinguish allegiance to Christ from allegiance to empire. If we are honest about this history and the ways religion has been used as a means of conquest in various parts of the world, we will acknowledge how deeply the values and methods of Empire have infiltrated the church. This has affected how we engage (or fail to engage) with discipleship. Discipleship is NOT:

• praying a prayer

• Inviting Jesus into your life

• Attending church or even becoming a member of a church

• Having the right beliefs

All of these are good things and likely a part of discipleship, but none of these are discipleship. Yes, disciples should pray. Yes, you should (must!) have a vital relationship with Jesus. Yes, the church is important for teaching, contribution, and using your gifts to strengthen the Body of Christ. Yes, you must believe, but you’ve got to do more than believe. Even the demons believe — and tremble (see James 2:19). I think we can all agree that demons aren’t following Jesus though.

When evangelism becomes primarily about conquest, expansion, and winning, it begins to reflect the values of Empire more than the way of Jesus. Consider the phrase “taking the world for Christ.” What assumptions does that language carry? Does it evoke love, service, and sacrifice, or conquest, expansion, and victory? Does this language not sound more like conquest than apprenticeship? Does this language not emphasize winning more than following?

Many of our evangelistic efforts also use the language of Empire (number of conversions, number of decisions for Christ, etc.). It is a very “in vs. out” and “us vs. them” way of thinking. This is the language of Empire.

We are taught to view conversion, placing your trust in Jesus, as an end in itself. It sets up “praying the sinner’s prayer” as the finish line, which is a grave mistake.

I’ll never forget sitting across the table from a ministry friend who works with an NGO that helps Christians in countries hostile to the gospel. He explained that when a person accepts Jesus, this is where his organization’s work begins. This person must usually be removed from their environment for their own safety. They must be housed, fed, and taught the Bible. Then they must be transitioned to a place where they can safely build a life, even if that means relocating them within the same country. Relocating them within the same country would separate the convert from the biggest threat to their safety: their friends, family, and immediate community. Sitting across from this friend helped me to see that conversion is the starting line, not the finish line. It’s where we start, not where we finish. Discipleship helps us to see that there is no finish line — not on this side of heaven. We are all on a lifetime journey of apprenticeship to Jesus.

We are human. We want results. We love metrics. We like our graphs to go up and to the right. Discipleship at its core resists all of this. Discipleship is about who we are becoming, and that can’t be shown on a graph. You can’t track it in your database. Jesus knew this. Conversion is the starting line, not the finish line. The invitation of Jesus is not simply to believe in him, but to follow him. That journey lasts a lifetime.

Questions for Reflection

1. Discipleship must be intentional. What are your discipleship practices? Put another way: how are you apprenticing to Jesus?

2. Who or what is discipling you right now?

3. If someone observed your life for a year, would they conclude that you are primarily a church member or a disciple of Jesus? Why?

I remember sitting across from a friend and her mom, excitedly sharing over lunch that I’d been called into ministry. I will never forget the moment that Momma Skinner looked me in the eye and said very gravely, “Most fail in ministry because of an unwillingness to suffer.”

I had no idea how to process that statement. At that time, my idea of ministry meant traveling around, preaching from large stages to the thunderous applause of my audience. Sensing my misguided expectations, she gently offered another perspective. It would be years before I understood where she was coming from.

Participating in various ministry settings has reshaped my understanding of what ministry actually is: walking with people through joy, despair, loss, and everything else. It is hard — and often thankless —work. People are messy and to be in ministry is to be in the business of helping people. As a dear friend rightly says, ministry is embracing the beautiful mess.

This really isn’t something that can be done from a stage. I’m grateful for the formation I received in the Vineyard Church, where I learned that pastoral care is best accomplished life-on-life, much like the way Jesus formed the first 12 disciples. Life-on-life formation happens daily. Speaking from the stage happens occasionally. Not enough are willing to embrace the less glamorous aspects of ministry.

Previously, we began a discussion about the cost of discipleship. Today, we will take a deeper look at the cost of discipleship, because being unpopular is just the beginning. The reality is that following Jesus can cost you far more than popularity. Persecution for following Jesus is a reality in many parts of the world today, including Nigeria, China, India, and Cuba.1 People are paying this cost every day. I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about persecution, suffering, and dying for the faith in the same post where I talked about losing popularity. The two are worlds apart.

Jesus didn’t shy away from the hard reality that following him comes with a cost. Luke 14 is just one example of Jesus very clearly explaining the cost. What shocks me is the number of Sundays where the idea of discipleship —let alone the cost associated with it— didn’t even get a mention at the churches I attended. Why are we not talking about it?

I suspect there are a number of reasons for this, but before I delve into them, I’d like to take a look at a real-world example. Paul’s ministry was legendary. If anyone has a successful ministry, it was Paul. Yet, he does not describe anything like the vision I had in mind for the leader of a thriving ministry:

Five times I received the forty lashes minus one from the Jews. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I received a stoning. Three times I was shipwrecked. I have spent a night and a day in the open sea. On frequent journeys, I faced dangers from rivers, dangers from robbers, dangers from my own people, dangers from Gentiles, dangers in the city, dangers in the wilderness, dangers at sea, and dangers among false brothers; toil and hardship, many sleepless nights, hunger and thirst, often without food, cold, and without clothing. Not to mention other things, there is the daily pressure on me: my concern for all the churches.

2 Corinthians 11:24-29

The above is a brief snippet of Paul’s sufferings. After describing these, he goes on to detail an attempt on his life and a persistent thorn in his flesh. The Apostle Paul, called by the Lord Jesus in a theophany, author of 2/3 of the New Testament, Champion Church Planter, and master of cross-cultural ministry, paid dearly for his devotion to Christ. Why is this not the model for successful ministry? Why isn’t this discussed when we talk about ministry?

Of course, I understand that context matters. Ministry as a hospice chaplain will be very different than ministry as a youth pastor. Ministry in the Maldives will be different than ministry in Mexico. This is understandable. But Jesus warned everyone of the cost of discipleship. The cost may not be the same in all cases, but he warns that there will be a cost. So why is no one talking about it?

The answer is not that there is no precedent. In addition to Paul’s long history of paying the cost, we have the example of the original 12 Disciples, most of whom were martyred. We have the example of Stephen, who was stoned for his faith in the Book of Acts. Additional sources document the cost paid by women and men in the early church era. We hardly hear about them.

People didn’t stop paying the cost in the early church era. People are paying the cost right now. Why don’t we hear about it? How did our understanding of what it means to follow Jesus get so warped?

The problem lies with us: what we preach day-in and day-out. We simply are not clear about the cost of following Jesus. Many prefer to preach a self-centered faith where Jesus functions as a consultant for improving your life. That’s understandable. The message that following Jesus will cost everything you have is unpalatable. Most people really don’t want to hear that. It won’t fill auditoriums. It won’t get people to give to your ministry.

Why do we not want to hear it? I think it’s because we’ve bought into the world’s values and the world’s definition of success. A pastor with a congregation of 4,000 is seen as a success. The pastor faithfully shepherding 40 people for decades is seen as a failure. The pastor with 100,000 followers is seen as a success. The unknown pastor who has logged 100,000 hours comforting grieving families is somehow seen as less.

We’ve fallen for the temptations Jesus overcame: celebrity, power, and comfort. We’ve been sold the lie that we can follow Jesus and still measure success the same way the world does. Following Jesus demands a complete reorientation of your values. This is what Jesus called us to. Anything less is trying to serve two masters.

Large numbers are not the same as good fruit.

Fame is not the same as faithfulness.

We must think differently. We must have a balanced and realistic view of what it means to follow Jesus.

Read Matthew, Mark, or Luke from start to finish. Heed Jesus’ words and ask the Holy Spirit to speak to you as you do. This will give you a more balanced picture of what it means to follow Jesus.

Consider the Body. Not just your local church, but the church worldwide. Read publications like Voice of the Martyrs to learn more about religious persecution in our present time. Read widely, especially voices from different traditions and backgrounds.

Be relational. Be intentional about befriending and building relationships with people who are different from you: people of different nationalities, socioeconomic status, relationship status, or religion. Be curious about people in different circumstances and begin to pray for them. Look for opportunities to share your faith or encourage them in theirs. Jesus didn’t just teach the disciples, he sent them out on assignment. Consider yourself on assignment.

I will see you in the next article!

Jesus cautions us against this very thing in Luke 14:

The Cost of Discipleship

Now great crowds accompanied him, and he turned and said to them, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish.’ Or what king, going out to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and deliberate whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks for terms of peace. So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.

Luke 14:25-33

I think that often, we read these words without really considering what they mean. We gloss over them, spiritualize them, or rush past them to settle on more pleasant topics. As a result, the cost of discipleship doesn’t get enough airtime.

We hear a lot about the free gift of salvation. Of course, it right to celebrate the salvation Jesus has secured for us. It’s not something we could have ever done for ourselves. However, we sometimes get so focused on the incredible reality that salvation is free, that we forget how costly discipleship is.

This is the first of two posts about the cost of discipleship. In order to follow Jesus faithfully, this is a topic we must engage.

The real-life example of the beautiful grounds with no house is sad, but not exactly tragic. The things Jesus describes, on the other hand, are troubling, to say the least. He talks about taking up crosses, and valuing the way of Jesus above family members, and being willing to renounce all we have? Who’d want to do any of that? Didn’t anyone tell Jesus that isn’t the way to get followers? Did no one tell Jesus that this message would not perform well on Instagram? Did no one explain that to appeal to masses, Jesus should make the lifestyle he was offering more glamorous?

And maybe that’s the issue: we expect ministry to be glamourous because of the rise of the Celebrity Preacher. (Read Katelyn Beaty’s Celebrities for Jesus: How Personas, Platforms, and Profits Are Hurting the Church for a frightening look at how the cult of personality has infiltrated the church.) And glamour goes hand-in-hand with its evil twin: popularity.

Of course, this is a huge problem because following Jesus will make you unpopular. Bringing the light and truth of God will make you very unpopular. Don’t believe me? Here are just a few examples of people having a less than positive response to God’s messenger:

• God blesses you when people mock you and persecute you and lie about you and say all sorts of evil things against you because you are my followers. (Matthew 5:11)

• What sorrow awaits you who are praised by the crowds, for their ancestors also praised false prophets. (Luke 6:26)

• But the people mocked these messengers of God and despised their words. They scoffed at the prophets until the Lord’s anger could no longer be restrained and nothing could be done. (2 Chronicles 36:16) NLT

• O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers! How often I have wanted to gather your children together as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn’t let me. (Luke 13:34) NLT

• And the judgment is based on this fact: God’s light came into the world, but people loved the darkness more than the light, for their actions were evil. (John 3:19) NLT

Based on what I see on scripture, this is a consistent pattern. People who speak God’s truth are reviled. Jesus was no exception to this and he warned that his followers would receive the same treatment. To me, it seems like being unpopular is a major aspect of following Jesus. In fact, Jesus seems to imply that if you are popular with everybody, you’re probably doing something very, very wrong.

What confuses me is when followers of Jesus prioritize popularity over obedience. What do I mean? I’ll give you a few examples of things I have seen with my own eyes:

• Watering down or distorting the gospel to maximize donations.

• Selling a version of Christianity that allows people to leave their values, priorities, and assumptions intact — unexamined and unchallenged.

• Refusing to denounce injustice and evil as such when it could be perceived as political or make people angry.

• Failing to show love to our neighbor, protect the vulnerable and powerless, and care for orphans and widows because to avoid angering people.

• Preserving dysfunction snd broken systems to avoid confronting underlying issues.

• Making discipleship and spiritual formation (being formed into the image of Christ) optional rather than presenting it as the goal and responsibility of every Believer.

Please note, this is not an invitation to abuse or weaponize scripture to suit our agendas and preferences. This is an invitation be salt and light, to live the values of the Kingdom, and to speak the truth in love. This is an invitation to live like Jesus.

However, part of that means paying the cost associated with living this way. We see this when we look at the life of Jesus, the life of John the Baptist, and the life of any of the prophets. Their light exposed the darkness of the culture around them. This made them very unpopular, and as Jesus said, people often sought to kill them.

Paul understood this perfecly. In his letter to the Galatians he tells the reader plainly: If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Jesus Christ. Paul figured out that you can’t do both. You can’t be popular with everyone and serve Jesus faithfully.

Unfortunately, the willingness to conform for popularity is all too common. It’s pretty clear what happens when the people of God prioritize popularity over obedience. We see the evidence on social media. We see the evidence on the news. We see the evidence in our churches, in our schools, and in our communities. Unfortunately, anyone can fall into this trap.

How do we know when we are being tempted to choose popularity? It depends. However, I would be very aware of negotiating. I’ll be I would be wary of instances where you know what God would have you do and you negotiate with the Holy Spirit about whether or not to obey. That could be a place where popularity or convenience may be tryng to tempt you away from obedience.

I’d also pay attention to any fear of how people might react. If you’re worried about people leaving, donatons falling, not being invited to the barbecue, not being promoted, or no longer being included; that could be a place where you’d be tempted to make the popular choice. Unfortunately, the popular choice is often the wrong choice.

Jesus made unpopular choices and he invites us to do the same. The great news is that we don’t have to do this alone. In John 15, Jesus commands us to abide in him. We can’t do anything in our own strength. We gain our strength from abiding in Jesus. As Jesus did, we are to rely on the power and presence of the Holy Spirit in our daily lives to help us.

We also have one another. We grow together in Christian community. We can offer support to one another as we choose faithfulness over popularity. We can be encouraged by others choosing to serve Jesus faithfully. Note that I have also seen the following with my own eyes:

• Christian leaders standing against domestic violence and protecting survivors.

• Pastors telling hard truths and offering those who find it offensive the guidance as they engage with it, or the freedom to walk away if they so choose.

• Communities coming together to have hard conversations because that is what loving one another well requires.

• Christian leaders condemning violence, oppression, and injustice though it costs them friends and followers.

Following Jesus isn’t easy. Jesus is very transparent about this. But it’s the best choice you could ever make. As we remain connected to him and connected in community, we can all grow stronger.

As we consider the very real cost of discipleship, let’s reflect on these questions together:

• How do Jesus’ words about the cost of discipleship land with you?

• This cost comes in many forms. What comes to mind as you consider ways that you or others choose obedience?

• What is your practice for abiding in Christ Jesus?

• What is the next step of discipleship that Jesus is inviting you into?

Join me next week as we continue to explore the cost of discipleship.

Tell me in the comments if you or someone you know has chosen faithfulness over popularity. Encourage someone with your story!

Completely bewildered, she responded, “Dude, you cannot expect me to explain to you what ham tastes like.”

Realizing that this was a fair point, my formerly vegetarian guest tried a Ham Roll and he loved it. There were no more questions about what ham tasted like. There were no more ham rolls at the end of the evening, either. 😁

It’s amusing to think that way about ham, or just about any food. No matter how strong your vocabulary, words are cannot to reproduce taste. Some things, you just have to experience.

I wish I knew this when I started my journey as a Christian. I had a ton of questions. I still do. It gives me comfort to know that the disciples has their questions as well. Like the disciples, however, I’ve had to learn that more information isn’t always the answer.

Today, I’d like to briefly look at an example of the disciples asking questions of Jesus and how he handled the situation:

The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! This is the one I told you about: ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me, because he existed before me.’ I didn’t know him, but I came baptizing with water so that he might be revealed to Israel.” And John testified, “I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and he rested on him. I didn’t know him, but he who sent me to baptize with water told me, ‘The one you see the Spirit descending and resting on—he is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’ I have seen and testified that this is the Son of God.”

The next day, John was standing with two of his disciples. When he saw Jesus passing by, he said, “Look, the Lamb of God!”

The two disciples heard him say this and followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and noticed them following him, he asked them, “What are you looking for?”

They said to him, “Rabbi” (which means “Teacher”), “where are you staying?”

“Come and you’ll see,” he replied. So they went and saw where he was staying, and they stayed with him that day. It was about four in the afternoon.

John 1:29-39

This exchange as always struck me as strange. Imagine the scene with me: You and your friend are walking down the street and your rabbi introduces you to the long-awaited Messiah. You’re beyond excited. And your first words to the Messiah are “Where are you staying?”

Maybe it’s me, but that seems like an odd response. I would not expect for a reasonable person to react to meeting the Lamb of God by asking about his accommodations. What about you?

In typical Jesus fashion, Jesus cuts through the noise and gets to the heart of the matter. Instead of describing his lodgings he invites these two disciples of John to spend the rest of the day with him. The disciples came to him seeking information. Instead, Jesus offered them an experience.

He didn’t just tell them things. He invited them to come and see for themselves. He invited them into relationship.

I don’t mean to imply that information is bad. Information is a good thing, but sometimes, we fixate on it. We want certainty and control and so we want to know every little thing. We think more information will give us more peace, but this is usually not the case. What gives us more peace is trust, and trust is built in relationship.

I chuckle at the disciples’ ridiculous response, but the reality is that I do the same thing. For me, this looks like asking Jesus a million questions about my life, the future, his plan for me, and everything else. For most of my life I have been obsessessed with questions about my calling, what God wants me to do, and when things will happen. In this current season of uncertainty, the questions come fast and furious.

God is teaching me in this season that information is not enough. He wants me to experience relationship with him.

I memorized the 23rd Psalm as a child. That is very valuable knowledge and I am grateful that I have it. Learning the words is a blessing. In this season, however, I am learning to trust the Shepherd. Believe me, this is far easier said than done. Instead of plans and frameworks, Jesus is teaching me to walk with him. He is showing me that he has matters well in hand. He is teaching me to trust him as we walk beside still waters and in the darkest valley. He is showing me that he is more than enough.

God gives us knowledge, but he also offers us the opportunity to experience relationship with him. It’s natural to want to know all the things. If I could offer one encouraging word it would be this:

When you can’t see the path, trust the Shepherd.
He wants you to walk with him.

I’ll never forget the first time this happened. I was in school and had visited a church for the very first time. The pastor mentioned that he was in the fourth and final week of a sermon series. His title, and his premise, was simple: Every Member is a Minister. The idea of a bench member is an oxymoron.

I sat politely and listened to the pastor deliver a perfectly enjoyable sermon. He was an engaging speaker and the atmosphere was lively. I had a great time at the service. But as I stood to leave, I thought to myself, “He’s a good speaker. Too bad he has no idea what he’s talking about.” I made a mental note to find a new church to attend the following week.

The fact that I, at 24 years of age, felt that I knew more than someone who had been preaching for nearly as long as I’d been alive should have been a huge red flag. (It wasn’t.) I had a firm understanding that every Believer had a role to play. Ministers were people paid by the church. They spoke on huge stages and prayed impressive sounding prayers. They were essentially professional Christians and I knew I wasn’t one of those. I resented the idea that I even could be one of those. The ministers/pastors did the giving. The members did the receiving. That was the way it worked. Why didn’t the pastor understand this?

So secure in my superioriority, I decided to spend the afternoon with my bible proving the pastor wrong. I grabbed a notebook and made a vertical line down the middle. On one side, I would write the scriptures that proved I was right. On the other side, I would write any sciptures that supported the pastor’s view — if I found any.

I applied myself fully to this activity, very thoroughly and diligently searching the scriptures. At the end of the afternoon, I had compiled a lengthy list of scriptures that supported the pastor’s view. My column was completely empty. I set out to prove the pastor wrong. Instead, I proved him 100% right.

I was absolutely shocked. I’d been so sure I was right. But when I held my views up against scripture, they came up short. What I’d been so sure was right turned out to be completely wrong.

As I sit here in the present day, I can think of ten different scriptures that demonstrate that the life of following Jesus means that we do the things he did. An easy one for starters, the Great Commission, where Jesus explicitly tells his disciples to go and make more disciples, not to bring people to the church to listen to the pastor. In Luke, Jesus sends the twelve in chapter 9, but he sends seventy two in chapter 10. Even the man who had just been filled with demons a few minutes prior was sent to testify about the God’s power and goodness (see Luke 8).

The scripture I’d been most confident in (Ephesians 4:11), was perhaps the most incriminating of all. I was ready to point my finger at the prophets, evangelists, apostles, pastors, and teachers as the real ministers. In my study, I went on to read verses 11 and 12, which make it clear that ther function of these gifts is to equip the saints for the work of ministry and build up the body so that we all reach maturity in Christ. The saints (who I saw as those who are not specifically prophets, evangelists, apostles, pastors, or teachers) are the ones being equipped for the work of the ministry. That didn’t match my view at all.

This stratification of Christians was something I’d made up, or been erroneously taught somewhere along the way. When I examined my assumptions through the lens of scripture, I saw how wrong they were.

That week, I told a friend of mine about my shocking (and humbling) experience. Her response was the last thing I expected to hear: “Sounds like you’re being challenged. I think you’ve found a good church.”

It was then that I realized that having our assumptions challenged (read annihilated) is something that’s supposed to happen when you go to church. You’re supposed to be confronted by the truth of God’s word. And when that happens, you should revise your views. This is how we grow. This is how we become more like Christ.

Because the reality is, if you’re not changing, you’re not growing. If you’re not being challenged, you’re not growing. If you are not editing your life and your beliefs based on what you see in scripture, you’re just being entertained. James says that if you aren’t implementing what you read in the Word you’re deceiving yourself (see James 1:22). The purpose of going to church is not to be affirmed in what you’re already doing. The purpose is to be taught God’s Word so you can become more and more like Jesus. Staying the same was never the goal. Maintaining the status quo was never the goal. Warming the pew was never the goal. Transformation has always been the goal.

Is this easy? NO. It’s a hard thing to swallow your pride and admit that you are the problem. However, this is constantly the posture of someone that follows Jesus. His is the way of surrender — surrender to the practices and principles of the Kingdom. To do this, we must abandon our own. We must abandon the world’s way of being, which is far more comfortable. But Jesus never called us to comfort. He called us to follow him, crosses in tow.

The best part about it is that when we let Jesus tear down our preconceived notions and our ideas about how things work, he is then free to replace them with his truth. When he dismantles our faith built on wrong beliefs, he can then build a much stronger faith built on his Word. When we are stripped of our preconceived notions, we can adopt his vision for us. As we spend more time with Jesus, he continues to transform us. We are all in a continuous state of transformation at the feet of the Master.

• When is the last time a message or a passage challenged your understanding of the world and your place in it?

• How do you typically respond to such a challenge?

• Do you know of any existing implementation gaps, places where you know what God is calling you to do but you haven’t taken action?

• Have you ever had to wrestle with a passage you didn’t understand? What was the result of that struggle?

At this point, I took another look around the store. Though the designs were familiar, they were rendered in the most luxurious materials. I examined the garments more closely. The stitching was extremely well done. Edges were finished beautifully. Everything was extremely well made. My initial assessment of the store was that the merchandise was basic. Upon closer examination, however, I understood the store’s purpose: to provide core pieces of the highest quality.

I feel like lots of things in life are like that. We think of them one way, but when we look closer, we see something different. One of my favorite examples is found in Acts 16. I must confess, for years, I thought this was the story of Paul and Silas being delivered from prison by an earthquake. After looking carefully, I see that’s not the point of the story.

This story takes place in the city of Philippi. The city of Philippi was located in Macedonia, a Roman colony. As such, Philippi enjoyed elevated legal status.

We begin in Acts 16:16, where Paul and his companions are headed to the house of prayer. Along the way, Paul casts a demon out of a slave girl because it had been harassing them. But the slave’s owners were upset because they had had been exploiting her condition. They made money from her telling fortunes. When the demon was gone she could no longer tell fortunes so they reported Paul and Silas.

The city officials seized them and beat them with rods. This is one of the three beatings with rods Paul alludes to in 2 Corinthians 11:25. Paul being beaten was a problem because he was a Roman citizen. It was illegal to beat Roman citizens and this breach of protocol could threatened Philippi’s elevated status. Paul and Silas were then thrown into prison. The jail keeper was warned that they should not escape, so he put them in the dungeon with their feet in stocks.

Around midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing praises to God and suddenly there was an earthquake. The prison doors were opened and the chains were broken. The jailer, who had fallen asleep, woke to see the doors open. He supposed that the prisoners under his care had escaped and took his sword to kill himself. Paul lets him know that no one has escaped and the jail keeper asks what he needs to do to be saved. So Paul preaches to him. The jailer then takes care of Paul and Silas. He and his family are saved that day.

Heavy on the Drama
As a writer, I love this story. It’s heavy on the drama and the emotional stakes are high. Paul had just freed a young girl from demonic oppression. We cheer for her newfound freedom and we marvel at the power of Jesus.

So the city falls to its knees in repentance, right? Not quite. Local officials seize Paul and Silas and they beat them — with rods. And after beating them, the officials throw them in jail. Paul woke up that morning with the intention of spreading the gospel. He was headed to the house of prayer as the story begins. By nightfall, Paul was bleeding in jail.

It’s important to note that Paul was doing exactly what God called him to do. Paul walked a hard road. He made a lot of enemies and he endured great suffering. Paul’s life illustrates a very important lesson: following God’s plan and walking out your calling do not exempt you from trouble. In Paul’s case, walking out his calling was the primary cause of his suffering. Following God’s plan does not mean that things will be easy — or pleasant.

This is an important point to make because I feel that we too often try to entice non-Christians with the lie that they just need to find and follow God’s plan and life will “work.” We tell them that God’s plan is better than theirs. I think this creates an unrealistic expectation and sets people up to be blindsided by the reality that following God’s plan will involve hardship — extreme hardship in some cases.

Paul and Silas were severely beaten with rods and then imprisoned. But Paul and Silas have a very curious response to being beaten and imprisoned: they pray and sing hymns to God. They transformed the prison cell into a church and begun to have service.

God Broke the Chains When His Children Called on Him
Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns in prison. The prisoners were listening. The jailer may have been listening, himself, before he fell asleep. But they sang and prayed in the midst of a very dark situation.

God responded in a very dramatic fashion. There was suddenly an earthquake that left the prison doors open and the prison chains broken. It wasn’t Paul and Silas’ deliverance, but it was a very dramatic response from God.

It’s Not That Simple
Countless times, I’ve heard this text used in sermons arguing that God’s power to deliver. He opened the prison doors for Paul and Silas, he will open doors for you. While God is a mighty deliverer and can do the impossible, that’s not the point of this story. This story is not about God breaking Paul and Silas out of prison and them going on their merry way. The way I’ve heard this preached in the past emphasized the earthquake and the chains falling off, as if that is the moment of Paul and Silas’ deliverance. It wasn’t.

A careful reading of the text reveals that Paul and Silas went to the jailer’s home and he took them back to prison after treating their wounds (v 35-40). Paul and Silas were back in jail when the order to release them came.

It’s possible that the officials felt the earthquake (wherever they were) and decided to free Paul and Silas because of it. It could have been something else entirely. They may have been planning to release them the next day all along. The text doesn’t tell us so we cannot know.

What the text does tell us, however, is that Paul and Silas didn’t walk out of prison once the chains were broken and the doors were opened. To say that the earthquake was their means of deliverance is not accurate.

What we can accurately say is that prayer and praise are powerful. We can see that all over scripture. Were Paul and Silas delivered because of their prayers and praise? Quite possibly, but it wasn’t quite that simple.

The Real Crisis
I want to focus for a moment on the jailer. That day probably stared just like any other. During the first century, Roman jailers were known for their cruelty and malice. We can only imagine what he had been up to before Paul and Silas arrived. He showed up to work his shift and had been given orders to make sure Paul and Silas didn’t escape. He fell asleep, only to be awakened by an earthquake. He saw the prison doors open and he panicked.

This was a crisis. He was responsible for any escaped prisoners and the prison doors were standing open. He was so distraught that he drew his crowd to kill himself. Thankfully, Paul stopped him.

This was the end of one crisis and the beginning of another. Yes, the prisoners were all present and accounted for, but the jailer then realized the real crisis: he was faced with the undeniable power of a God he didn’t know. He fell trembling before Paul and Silas. This was no small matter. The jailer was utterly vulnerable and wholly aware of his need. He asked Paul how to be saved. Paul’s message was simple: Believe in Jesus. Paul preached the gospel to him and his family and there were saved.

So, who was delivered that night? Not Paul and Silas. They went back to prison only to be released a few hours later. It was the Philippian jailer and his family who were delivered the that night. It is not to be missed that Paul and Silas were delivered from prison. God did intervene on their behalf. Just not that night.

Conclusion
Of course, it would have been a cooler story had Paul and Silas strolled out of the prison after the earthquake. It would have tied things up nicely. Paul and Silas are in jail, there’s an earthquake, and then they’re free. But that’s not the way it happens. As it has happened so many times in scripture and in my own life, deliverance didn’t come in the expected manner or on the preferred timeline. It does come though.

I walk away from the story with two very broad ideas. First, following God’s plan will have all kinds of twists and turns. Trust me, I know this from experience! It can be stressful. It can be dangerous. It can even be deadly.

The second is more comforting: God has a plan of each of us and God will employ extraordinary measures to see it accomplished. Paul and Silas wound up in jail, but God’s plan was for them to preach Jesus, so he had them released. Paul meets a lot more trouble in the coming chapters, but you can also see God working despite the trouble.

Where do you need God to work on your behalf? God is still the Mighty Deliverer. Invite him into your situation and watch him work.

Let’s talk about the time I wanted to punch an elderly woman in the face. Just to be clear, I didn’t hit, kick, punch, or assault her in any way. Oh, but I wanted to.

Had she insulted me or harmed me in any way? Had she told me lies and destroyed my trust? Had she cleaned out my bank account and disappeared with the little money I had? No, she did none of these things. So why did I want to punch her in the face? I’m getting to that...

For context, we shared a table at a conference for pastors and leaders. I had poured out my painful story of loss and confusion and I desperately needed advice. Instead of trying to help, she simply prescribed the same Bible verse that she had been prescribing to everyone that day. She made no attempt to conceral her approach to my situation (and everyone else’s apparently). Rather than even trying to speak to my situation, she gave the same generic advice to everyone that day. I was so angry I couldn’t speak.

While it wasn’t usually so dramatic, I can think of many times when I sought advice from those I perceived to be further along in the faith. When I was younger I would be desperate to get advice from more experienced Christians. I would go to conferences, chase after prophetic words, and jump in every prayer line I could. Why? Because I had questions — about life, about my calling, about vocation. I had no idea what to do and I thought these seasoned saints had the answers.

Of course, I’m not against conferences, prayer, or prophetic words. I’m a big believer in seeking wise counsel. What I AM against is using these as a substitute for God. More specifically, I’m against spending yourself hearing from people because you haven’t heard from God.

The issue wasn’t that I didn’t want to hear from God. I did. But leaarning to listen to the Lord is a discipline that must be developed. And if God didn’t speak within the allotted timeframe, I sought answers elsewhere. It led to a lot of frustration (as mentioned above) and a lot of spent effort.

What I’ve learned over the years is that there is no substitute for a vital relationship with the Living God. Yes, God has graciously given us many resources to educate us, stengthen our faith, and encourage us. We need conferences. We need wise counsel. But none of these are a substitue for being in relationship with God. These other things can enrich our lives in incredible ways, but they can never take the place of God and should never be sought in his place. No created thing can take the place of the Creator.

Here are some good things (I love all of these!) that can never substitute for a strong relationship with the Living God:

• Christian books, conferences, and meetings

• Wise counsel from pastors and other Believers

• Personal development books, podcasts, and programs

• Prophetic words

I am not suggesting that we abandon these things. I do encourage us to use them properly. They are a great complement to our relationship with God, not a substitute.

Still, I know what it’s like to be at a crossroads and be desperate for God’s guidance. If you’re in that place, first, know that God is the ultimate source of wisdom. If you need wisdom, ask him for it (See James 1:5). I know from experience that asking is the easy part. Staying calm when God answers on his timetable rather than our own is much harder.

Second, I think it’s worth considering that cultivating a strong relationship with Jesus every day of our lives may be more important than the questions that seem so urgent. If we commit ourselves to walking with Jesus, he will lead us in the paths of righteousness (see Psalm 23:3). If we focus on following the Shepherd, we can trust him to lead us where we need to go.

There is absolutely nothing that will take the place of a close relationship with the living God.

Other peoples’ prayers will not.

Being in church leadership will not.

Trying to control everyone and everything will not.

If you need the Lord’s guidance today, ask him for it. Then, do as Jesus teaches in John 15: remain in him. He’ll get you where you need to go.

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. Every branch in me that does not produce fruit he removes, and he prunes every branch that produces fruit so that it will produce more fruit. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, and I in you. Just as a branch is unable to produce fruit by itself unless it remains on the vine, neither can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who remains in me and I in him produces much fruit, because you can do nothing without me.”

John 15:1-5

I used to think Lent was about performance. I used to think it was about saying that you’re giving up X, Y, or Z. For years, I joked that I was giving up cigarettes for lent. Note that I am a lifetime non-smoker so giving up cigarettes would not be a sacrifice. And lest you think that this is some testament to my own morality, I grew up with asthma, so smoking has never even been an option for me.

In this particular season of my life, where I find myself in the wilderness (check out my podcast, Meditations on the Wilderness for more on what this means), and with the troubling prevalence of violence, oppression, and hatred in the US, I think the best thing I could possibly do is participate in Lent. If there is ever a time when the people of God must turn our hearts toward him, that time is now. With all that’s happening in my life and in this country, there’s no way I would miss the opportunity to seek the Lord as a people.

So I look forward to observing Lent this year. Not for the sake of performance, but to adopt a posture. This is the opportunity to seek the Lord is one Body in Christ. I invite you to join me in the observing lent. There’s no need to announce anything to anyone. Just turn your heart toward him.

Being a single adult is a baffling experience. The moment you add Christian to that it multiplies the frustration. Being a Christian single is a mixture of being ignored, pitied, berated, and exploited… all by the church.

In my experience, church was the hardest place to be as a single Christian. I’d like to share with you now what I wish I knew then:

• Your singleness is not the problem. Singleness itself is not a problem to be solved, or an aberration that must be corrected. Singleness is perfectly normal. 100% of people are born single and a large percentage will find themselves single again.

• Singles who wish to be married are not the problem. This is perfectly normal and natural and it does not mean that you’re “idolizing marriage.”

If singles aren’t the problem, then what is? Usually, the church is the problem. More specifically, it’s the church’s lack of experience, lack of diversity, and lack of concern. Most of the people teaching in churches and making decisions in churches have little experience with singleness and have no idea what singles are experiencing. If your leadership is not intentional about serving singles well, it won’t happen.

This isn’t happening because it’s right. It’s happening beacuse churches often choose what’s easy instead of what’s right. Churches know how to teach couples and kids. Singles are a diverse group and harder to teach. And because it would require learning new practices and perspectives, many don’t bother.

This is not okay. It’s also not your fault.

The fact that it has not done so is not your fault. The fact that the church usually fails to minister to you properly (or at all) is not your fault. The fact that you’re left to fend for yourselves while your married counterparts enjoy sermon series, guest speakers, and confernces is not your fault. And the fact that you’re expected to give and serve despite being treated as second class citizens is 37 shades of wrong.

If you’re single, I want to affirm you. If you want to be married, I affirm you. If you’re single and have no interst in marriage, I affirm you in that, too. If you’re not sure but open to whatever God has in mind, I affirm you. God does not value people more or less based on their relationship status. It’s time the rest of us got the memo and started celebrating singles for no reason than the fact that they are God’s workmanship, created for good works.

Your church may not see you.

Society may not see you.

But I do.

And I thank God for you.

But the Christmas story is full of complexity. When we hyperfixate on the joyful aspects to the exclusion of the painful aspects of Christmas, then we are left with half the story — and half the understanding.

The reality is that there is joy in the Christmas story, but there is also pain. If we wander over to Matthew’s gospel, he describes a horrific mass murder in Matthew 2:13-16:

The Flight into Egypt

¹³ After they were gone, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, saying, “Get up! Take the child and his mother, flee to Egypt, and stay there until I tell you. For Herod is about to search for the child to kill him.” ¹⁴ So he got up, took the child and his mother during the night, and escaped to Egypt. ¹⁵ He stayed there until Herod’s death, so that what was spoken by the Lord through the prophet might be fulfilled: Out of Egypt I called my Son.

The Massacre of the Innocents

¹⁶ Then Herod, when he realized that he had been outwitted by the wise men, flew into a rage. He gave orders to massacre all the boys in and around Bethlehem who were two years old and under, in keeping with the time he had learned from the wise men. ¹⁷ Then what was spoken through Jeremiah the prophet was fulfilled:

¹⁸ A voice was heard in Ramah,
weeping, and great mourning,
Rachel weeping for her children;
and she refused to be consoled,
because they are no more.

Somehow, this passage never makes it into the Christmas pageant readings. We may hear about the plot to take Jesus’ life, but the actual slaughter of boys in and around Bethlehem doesn’t get much airtime. These are real lives that were cut short, and the bible tells us that their families were inconsolable. The Christmas story is not all good tidings and joy. Widespread death and mourning are also a part of the Christmas story.

That’s just a small part of the story — only three verses. The rest is joyful, right?

Not quite.

There’s a fascinating character in Luke’s gospel named Simeon.

The Prophecy of Simeon

²⁵ At that time there was a man in Jerusalem named Simeon. He was righteous and devout and was eagerly waiting for the Messiah to come and rescue Israel. The Holy Spirit was upon him ²⁶ and had revealed to him that he would not die until he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. ²⁷ That day the Spirit led him to the Temple. So when Mary and Joseph came to present the baby Jesus to the Lord as the law required, ²⁸ Simeon was there. He took the child in his arms and praised God, saying,

²⁹ “Sovereign Lord, now let your servant die in peace,
as you have promised.
³⁰ I have seen your salvation,
³¹ which you have prepared for all people.
³² He is a light to reveal God to the nations,
and he is the glory of your people Israel!”

³³ Jesus’ parents were amazed at what was being said about him. ³⁴ Then Simeon blessed them, and he said to Mary, the baby’s mother, “This child is destined to cause many in Israel to fall, and many others to rise. He has been sent as a sign from God, but many will oppose him. ³⁵ As a result, the deepest thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your very soul.”

Simeon was a fascinating character because of what he wasn’t. For years, I thought Simeon was a priest. He wasn’t. He was righteous and he was devout. He also heard from the Holy Spirit, which is why he made his way to the Temple courts that day. Simeon didn’t hold a position of any kind as far as I can find. He was just a man with a heart after God.

Let that sink in for a second. A regular layperson received the staggering promise of seeing the Messiah before he died. Simeon had this experience because of a relationship, not because of a title. I marvel at the intentionality of all aspects of Advent. Jesus never intended to do things the world’s way. (More on that next week.)

Simeon may not have been a priest, but he definitaly had the goods. He delivers a prophecy that is as encouraging as it is disturbing. The Jewish people were expecting salvation for themselves, but all people? Even the Gentiles? Very bold.

Simeon goes on to state clearly that Jesus would shake things up. Some in Israel would rise because of him. Others would fall. He tells Mary that many would oppose Jesus — not a few. That had to be unsettling. It gets worse: a sword would pierce Mary’s own soul.

Simeon’s prophecy includes some joyful elements, but it also includes some painful ones. It is a mixture. The joy and the pain exist together in tension, and that tension is part of the Christmas story.

The tension continues as Jesus shows himself to be a very different Messiah than the world was expecting. It goes on as Jesus establishes his Kingdom which is both now-and-not-yet. There is tension as the Kingdom of God is breaking through but the forces of darkness are not yet completely destroyed. Multiple things existing together in tension is a common theme in Scripture. The Christmas story is just one example.

Unfortunately, the tension of the Christmas story is often ignored in favor of its more joyful parts. This is unhealthy. It’s a form of toxic positivity that does so much harm. Celebrating Christmas means honoring both parts of the story: the joy and the pain. Because pain is a part of the story and that pain should not be ignored.

When Pain is a Part of the Story

What about you? Is pain a part of your story? Are you feeling the weight of grief this Christmas? Will you be doing your best to navigate badly broken relationships, hoping for civility because celebration feels impossible? Are you dealing with an illness that makes celebration difficult? Or maybe, you’re in so much emotional pain that you just have no capacity for joy right now.

If pain is a part of your story this Christmas, I say this to you:

WELCOME.

Because pain is a part of the Christmas story. It’s not all joy — and that’s okay. If you’re walking through a painful season right now, that’s okay. I think God would much rather have you be honest in his presence than manufacure anything for the sake of appearances. The Christmas story shows us that God comes into the painful places. Throughout Jesus’ ministry, we see him minister to the sick, the marginalized, and the hurting. If you’re in a painful place, Jesus wants to come to you, too.

• Have you bought into the lie that you can’t experience the supernatural power and presence of God in the same way that pastors and leaders do? Simeon’s experiene shatters this misconception. How can you focus more on cultivating a deep and abiding relationship with God and less on whether or not you have a certain title?

• Are you in a painful season? How can you invite Jesus into that place of pain and open yourself to his healing power?

• Are you comfortable embracing the joyful and the painful parts of the Christmas story and your own story? How can you begin to appreciate this tension as it shows up in our life?

Potatoes dauphanoise are legendary in my family. My family loves them. They’re delicious and the scallopped potatoes make a stunning presentation.

When people see the fancy presentation, they assume that I slaved over a hot stove for hours. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Potatoes dauphanoise is one of the easiest dishes I can make. It looks impressive, but in reality, it’s the ultimate lazy man’s dish.

Things aren’t always what they seem.

We talked last week about the intentionality of Advent and how Jesus’ birth didn’t match the expectations of many of the Jewish people. This was by design. Again and again, Jesus refused to present as the political and military leader the world was craving.

When I look at the the Advent story, I marvel at the cast of characters:

• Zechariah and Elizabeth

• Mary and Joseph

• Simeon and Anna

• John the Baptist

• Shepherds

• The Magi

This list is filled with regular people. The powerful and the “important” are not on the list. The religious elite are nowhere to be found. The characters of the most imortant story in history are the humble, the lowly, and the outsiders.

The Magi are among my favorite characters in the Christmas story. Though they only appear in Matthew’s gospel, they are in the back of my mind as I read through Luke.

Wise Men Visit the King (Matthew 2:1-12)
After Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of King Herod, wise men from the east arrived in Jerusalem,² saying, “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star at its rising and have come to worship him.”

³ When King Herod heard this, he was deeply disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. ⁴ So he assembled all the chief priests and scribes of the people and asked them where the Messiah would be born.

⁵ “In Bethlehem of Judea,” they told him, “because this is what was written by the prophet:

⁶ And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah:
Because out of you will come a ruler
who will shepherd my people Israel.”

⁷ Then Herod secretly summoned the wise men and asked them the exact time the star appeared. ⁸ He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. When you find him, report back to me so that I too can go and worship him.”

⁹ After hearing the king, they went on their way. And there it was—the star they had seen at its rising. It led them until it came and stopped above the place where the child was. ¹⁰ When they saw the star, they were overwhelmed with joy. ¹¹ Entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and falling to their knees, they worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. ¹² And being warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their own country by another route.

Who were these guys?

We’re not entirely sure. They are called wise men from the east. The word Magi comes from the Latin word magus, where we get our word magic. This word was applied to various groups of people. Some of these included sorcerers or magicians. The term magus was also applied to astronomers, priests, and officials. Magi also included scholars, which is why they were called “wise men.” The traditional song characterizes them as kings, but there is no evidence that they were kings themselves. We don’t even know how many there were. The text indicates that there were magi (plural) but this means only that there were two or more.

Insane Dedication

The magi went to great efforts to find Jesus. They probably traveled 800 to 900 miles to worship him. This trip was long, costly, and dangerous. They made it anyway.

When I think about the lengths the magi went to in their search for Jesus, I am ashamed. I thought about staying home from church last week because it snowed overnight. The magi took an 800 mile journey and I almost let a little bit of snow stop me from driving half a mile.

I’m not alone. I’ve sat in far too many meetings about how to “remove barriers” for people to come to church. These measures included offering childcare, making sure there was ample seating in services (lest people feel intimidated because the venue was 80% full), and parking farther away so visitors could park closer to the church. When I read about what many churches consider barriers to attendance, I think the magi would have laughed.

Lavish Worship

The magi weren’t coming to get selfies with the King. They were coming to worship. And they didn’t just just come with pretty words and worship songs. They came bearing treasures: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. These were costly gifts that they brought to lay at Jesus’ feet.

All of this, and it wasn’t even their King they were coming to worship. They called Jesus the king of the Jews, and they weren’t even Jewish. But they’d seen a celestial sign and matched it to the words of prophecy found in Micah. Clearly, the wise men had read the Jewish scriptures and they had come to worship the Jewish King.

The Outsiders

I find great irony in the fact that the magi went to such great lengths to find and worship Jesus and the vast of majority of Bethelehem’s population had better things to do. These men from the east came and fell down in worship while Bethlehem’s citizens occupied themselses with chores, work, or sleep.

It was not the religious elite who recognized Jesus and bowed low in worship. The ones mentioned in the Advent story are the rejects and the outcasts. These are the ones the religious establishment discounted. But these are the ones who saw Jesus. And when Jesus begins his minstry, he sees them as well.

The Pharisees and the experts in religious law, the ones with the flawless religious pedigrees, the ones who wielded influence in the Jewish community weren’t the ones lavishing thier praise on the young Jesus. But outsiders did.

As Christmas draws closer, I hope you will take your own journey to encounter Jesus — just as the magi did. How can you deepen your worship and your devotion to the Lord? Will you let other things steal your focus or are you determined to pour lavish praise on our King? He alone is worthy.

Do you feel like an outsider? Maybe you don’t have the religious pedigree or wield influence in the religious community. Maybe you don’t know the bible that well. If that’s you, take heart. The outsiders saw what the religious elite did not.

No matter your position in society, the invitation of Advent is to offer our very selves in worship to the King of Kings. Outsiders welcome.

O come let us adore him!

I really appreciate the idea of taking time to prepare our hearts to celebrate Christmas. The world offers us endless activities and traditions to occuy our minds and our schedules. We can run ourselves ragged going from party to party and from store to store, not once stopping once to think about Jesus. It’s easy to get so caught up in creating the perfect Christmas that we lose sight of the reason for celebration. During Advent, we pull away from the world and train our focus on the person of Christ.

Usually, Advent involves lighting a candle on the Advent wreath each week. An encouraging reading usually accompanies the lighting of the candle. Traditionally, the four weekly themes of Advent are hope, peace, joy, and love.

Here on my Substack, I’m shaking things up. Many of you know that I’m studying the book of Luke this year. This study has changed the way I see everything about Jesus — including Christmas. Based on this study of Luke, I will be presenting the four themes that stand out to me this year. As the title suggests, the first theme is intentionality.

I’m not a historian — no matter what my husband says. 😁 I don’t always have a good idea of when things happened and I generally do even worse placing people on the timeline of historical events. For example, I was utterly shocked to learn that Siddhartha Gautama, also known as the Buddha, had already lived and died at least 400 years before Jesus was born. Given that Buddhism had already been around for centuries, I’m guessing Jesus knew all about it.

When Jesus was born, the Jewish people were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Messiah. Influenced by Old Testament prophecies and their plight of living in a county oppressed by the Roman Empire, they had high expectations of the Messiah. They were expecting a kingly figure and a descendant of King David. They were expcting a political leader who would free them from the yoke of Rome and establish his own kingdom of justice where all Jewish people could dwell in peace and prosperity.

This person would have had wealth and status. He would have been well-connected and he would enjoy great popularity. He would be very busy consolidating and demonstrating his power and vanquishng his enemies through military might. He would be a hero. Such a person would have to come from Jerusalem, the place for important people.

Jesus doesn’t seem to match that list of expectations very well. As we see in the gospels, he was born in Bethlehem, a tiny village of 1,000 to 3,000 people — totally insignificant by the world’s standards. He was raised in Nazareth, which was even worse. Nazareth was also a small town, but it was located in Galilee while Bethlehem and Jerusalem were located in Judea. People from Judea looked down on people from Galilee. They considered them ignorant, country, and not very serious about their faith. They particularly enjoyed making fun of the Galilean accent. To say “Jesus of Nazareth” or “Jesus of Galilee,” was not a compliment. It would be like saying “CaReese from the south side of Chicago.”

As he grew and began his ministry, Jesus does not do what was expected of the Messiah. He was nonviolent. He came from a working-class family. He did not consolidate power. He didn’t pander to the rich and didn’t join the religious establishment.

He did not come as the powerful political and milary leader many were expecting. He came as a humble servant. It’s not like Jesus didn’t know how to be a political and military leader. Alexander the Great had lived and died 300 years before Jesus was born, and the effects of his conquest were still beng felt in that region. The world knew what the brilliant political and military leader who establishes himself through conquest looked like. They had seen this modeled many times before.

Jesus knew this, too. Still, he presented himself as a servant. He taught surrender, not control. He demonstrated humility, not arrogance. He blessed the poor and pronounced woes on the rich (see Luke 6:24). He empowered others rather than consilidating power for himself. The only conquest he came for was the destruction of the devil’s works.

These were intentional choices. Jesus could have come as a political and military leader. It probably would have made his life much easier if he had just conformed to the popular expectations of the Messiah. He chose not to. That definition of Messiah did not fit the plan of God.

Jesus always did what pleased the Father (see John 8:29). It’s not because he didn’t have other options. He did what pleased the Father because he chose to. He made that choice again and again.

As the Advent season begins, I am struck by the intentionality of everything concerning Jesus — from his birth narrative to the choices he made every day. This encourages me when I feel like my life is completely random or out of control. This can never be. God is a God of great intention. Nothing he does is without purpose. Nothing he allows is without purpose.

As you begin to prepare your heart and your home for Christmas, take some time to reflect on the intentional nature of our great God. He is in control. He is working out his plan for this world and for each one of us.

This season offers many opportunities to mindlessly go with the flow of culture: consuming, scrolling, shopping the days away. Make an intentional choice to pursue the things of God. Like Jesus, choose the Lord’s way daily.

And when the expectations of others are hard to carry, consider whether you really need to meet them. Jesus was not afraid to disappoint people if that’s what it took to please the Father. Jesus did’t always meet the expectations of the people around him. There’s no reason you should feel pressure to.

Our God is intentional. Let us be intentional as well.

Question for Reflection:

What’s one thing you want to be intentional about this Christmas season?

While he was going, the crowds were nearly crushing him. ⁴³ A woman suffering from bleeding for twelve years, who had spent all she had on doctors and yet could not be healed by any, ⁴⁴ approached from behind and touched the end of his robe.Instantly her bleeding stopped.

⁴⁵ “Who touched me?” Jesus asked.

When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds are hemming you in and pressing against you.”

⁴⁶ “Someone did touch me,” said Jesus. “I know that power has gone out from me.” ⁴⁷ When the woman saw that she was discovered, she came trembling and fell down before him. In the presence of all the people, she declared the reason she had touched him and how she was instantly healed. ⁴⁸ “Daughter,”he said to her, “your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

In this passage we read the story of a woman who was marginalized because of a physical condition. She was considered ceremonially unclean and was not allowed to touch anyone else or enter the synagogue. She was excluded from public life and community.

I identify with this woman’s exclusion.

I got married later than most, age 41 to be exact. That means that for most of my life, I was a Christian single. Sadly, I learned that to be a Christian single often means being a second class citizen. Oh, no one will will not say that singles are less important, but a look at the church website, church calendar, and their budget will make it clear just how important singles are not.

I was 35 years old the first time I heard a sermon illustration involving a single person. Singles aren’t often spoken to from the pulpit and don’t have retreats and special speakers like their married counterparts in the same church.

This created a dynamic where I was present in church and serving in the church, but virtually ignored by the church. I’d be present, but still excluded.

Now that I’m married, I find myself excluded for a different reason: because my husband and I don’t have children. This is not due to lack of trying — our only pregnancy ended in miscarriage. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in conversation with someone and their face goes completely blank when they ask if I have kids and I simply say no.

Sure, people say hello and goodbye, but I am often not accepted. Some people exist in such insular circles that they have no idea how to interact with someone outside of it. Parents gravitate toward other parents. When you are so clearly other, it’s really easy to be in a room full of people but find yourself alone.

I understand very well what it’s like to be excluded from the family of faith for reasons you did not choose.

Her Condition Became Her Identity

We don’t know this woman’s name. We don’t know if she ever married or had children. We don’t know if she was kind. We know one thing about her: her physical condition.

What was her personality like? Was she a talented seamstress? Was she great at math? Did she have a voice that would bring tears to your eyes? We’ll never know because no one could look past her physical condition. This one thing was magnified such that it became her identity.

Have you ever had your identity dictated to you, not based on who you are, but based on what works for others? Or worse, have you ever been identified by your issues? To put a finer point on the cruelty of this, just imagine hearing a few of these as you’re out and about:

• The Woman with the STI

• The One with Five Kids by Five Different Men

• The One Whose Car Was Repossessed

• The Woman Who Had an Affair With Her Boss

• The Woman with the Cane

All of these fail to see a person made in the image of God and instead see talking a point. An object lesson. A problem to be solved. Drama to be avoided.

Having an idenity imposed on you is bad enough. It adds insult to injury to have that identity based on the worst thing ever to happen to you. Could you imagine being known by your worst quality or your worst decision? Could you imagine having that one thing determine your place in the world? That was this woman’s reality. She’d become known for her infirmity.

In One Masterful Stroke, Jesus Reverses Both

He heals her physical condition, enabling her to rejoin society. She is no longer ceremonially unclean so she can go about her day like anybody else. She is on equal footing with everyone else. But Jesus does not end there.

Though there is a great crowd, this miracle happens in secret. Only Jesus and this woman know what has happened. Jesus deliberately stops and asks this woman to identify herself. He could have gone on about his business knowing that this woman’s life had been changed. Instead, Jesus asks the woman to come forward not so he can condemn her, but so that he can acknowledge her. The thing she had been denied for so long, Jesus offers in front of everybody.

Jesus goes on to call her daughter. He restored her to relationship with God and with her community. Healing this women’s body was important and necessary. However, healing this woman’s life was just as important. Because of this encounter with Jesus, this woman had a whole new life.

This is What Jesus Does

New life is what Jesus is about. He came to bring us abundant life. It doesn’t matter what identity the world has assigned to you. Jesus can change your identity. He can change your whole life. We see him change the woman’s life in Luke 8. We see him change each of the disciples.

If you need a fresh start, Jesus is wating to give you one. He is waiting to restore you and call forth your true identity. Seek him and he will.

If I could point to one spiritual practice that has helped me through some of my most difficult seasons, it would be prayer journaling. This is a practice that I started after grad school because I was really struggling to hear God’s voice. My pastor suggested prayer journaling and it was a game-changer.

Her plan was simple: get a journal and a pen, put some classical music on, and listen for what God says to you. I tried it and was shocked to hear God speak to me. I am now on my third prayer journal, but it is still my go-to when I really need to hear the voice of God.

When I share this practice, people sometimes get confused. How do I do it? And I start to smile because I can’t tell anyone else what to do in their journal. But for anyone wondering how they might go about prayer journaling, I will offer some thoughts below.

Remember, these are thoughts, nothing more. You are not bound to anything I say. Feel free to pick and choose from the elements below, to mix them together, or do something else entirely. I want to empower you to do what you need in your prayer journal.

Here are some approaches to consider if you want to try prayer journaling:

The Official Record
This is exactly what it sounds like, you write the prayer as you pray it. This is a great approach if your mind wanders, if you have trouble focusing, or if you love a tactile experience.

Of course, the benefit of this is that you know exactly what you’ve prayed about and when. It’s great if you want to look back and see how your life or your faith has changed over time.

The Agenda
Similar to the way an agenda guides a meeting, this prayer journal can serve as a written guide for your prayer time. For example, you may know that you need to pray for:

• An upcoming event at your church

• Your best friend and her family

• A family member facing a stressful situation

You can build this list through the day and pray over them at night or add written prayer requests from your small group to this list and pray of over all of them together.

I do a version of this. I love to pray for my single friends, so I keep a list of single friends on the inncer cover of my prayer journal and I pray over each one by name.

Divine Response
This is the opposite of the Official Record. The focus here is not on what recording what you say to God, it’s recording what he says to you. This is the first method I tried and it works wonders. Recording what we sense God saying to us is great because it provides a record we can then compare against scripture. God won’t say anything contrary to scripture, so don’t skip this step.

Depending on what you hear, the response might then become your prayer list. For example, if God whispers that you need to go and make things right with a family member, you may then want to pray for his guidance as you obey.

War Binder
The War Binder is a prayer journal on steroids and combines many of the styles above. Typically, there is space for you to record your prayers, to add scripture references, to add written prayers you can pray again and again, and a place to make notes. If this is something you’d like to try, YouTube has tons of videos about how to create your own war binder.

Practical Considerations:

• You may want to consider leaving extra wide margins or only writing on one side of the page so that you can come back later and note how and when that prayer was answered. Few things strengthen your faith better than a tangible record of God’s goodness and and faithfulness to you, recorded by your hand.

• If you’re like me, a journal page without embellishment is like a day without sunshine. Consider making your prayer journal a work of art. Break out the stickers, stamps, decorative paper, washi tape, or whatever crafting supplies you like. Doodle. Stamp the page. Use colored pens. Add glitter up and down the notebook. However you decorate, make sure it enhances your prayer time.

Bonus:
Prayer Coloring is a a cousin of prayer journaling. It’s a way of praying while you color. As with many things, there are many approaches:

• You can match topics to colors (You pray for relatives when you use blue, the worldwide church when you use red, etc,).

• You can divide the page into quadrants and pray for a specific topic while coloring that quadrant.

• You could free-style and just use the coloring to keep your hands busy while you pray as you normally do.

I hope you will try some of these practices above. They can add a new dimention to your prayer time and your journey with God. Drop me a line to let me know about how you prayer journal or what other practices enhance your prayer time.

Last year, I found myself in India. Of course, India is on my bucket list of places to visit someday, but I had no intention of going last year. In fact, when initially asked, I declined the opportunity. But as I heard more and more about the explosive growth of the church in India even as the church in the United States is declining, I had to see it for myself.

I was not prepared for what I experienced. It would take days for me to explain it all. Today, I want to share five lessons I learned from the Indian church and some of the hard questions I came home with. I hope this challenges you as well.

Problems vs Opportunities
Understatement: there are a lot of people in India.

Over 1/3 of India’s population lives in cities — 470 million people (that’s more than the entire US population). With 6 megacities, India is one of the largest urban countries.

• Delhi – the capital

• Mumbai – the financial hub

• Kolkata – a major trading hub

• Chennai – home to the Indian motor industry

• Hyderabad – famous for jewels and tourism

• Bengaluru – the IT epicenter

Cities in India are becoming the largest population of urban Christians. Chennai is now 10% Christian. Mumbai has 7%, Bangalore has 6.5%. Of course, these cities have problems. Every city has problems. But there are is also great opportunity because India’s cities are the largest mission field on the planet.

How can you practice seeing things from God’s perspective, not the perspective of problems? What opportunities are you overlooking?

Women Are Essential
When girls are educated, the entire family benefits. Even in small villages, when women come to faith in Christ the influence on families and the larger community is tremendous. So, we saw ministries focused on training and equipping women to lead and minister. In India, there is no debate about whether a woman can lead. Women (and youth!) are integrated into church leadership. These women are natural leaders in the community and are making a huge impact for the Kingdom.

Rather than silencing women, how can the American church equip women to transform their communities?

The Main and the Plain
Consistency and repetition are the keys to the ministry I observed. They maintain a tight focus on what God has called them to. Yes, they sacrifice the opportunity to try new, shiny things but keeping their focus on what their assignment has borne amazing fruit.

Leaders and teachers are trained very carefully. Some teachers slip into erroneous teaching because they are watching YouTube and chasing popularity. Focusing on the main and the plain — following the teaching of Jesus every single day — prevents this mission drift.

What is your assignment? What is your focus? Are you ready to daily maintain that focus instead of chasing popularity?

Kingdom Focus
Following Jesus goes way beyond church attendance. Discipleship is not a program. Discipleship is not optional. It is an ongoing process and it needs to manifest itself in daily life. Every person should be trained to spread the gospel.

Evangelism must lead to church planting, but church planting is not an end in itself. Church planting must lead to Kingdom advancement. Jesus did not announce the coming of the church. He came to announce the Kingdom of God. He didn’t tell people to join a body of Believers. He told them to come into the Kingdom.

The gospel of truth, liberation, hope, a future — this is the best news to people who are struggling and lack access to resources. These are the people on the fringes, the marginalized. These people tend to be suppressed, oppressed, spiritually open, and emotionally seeking.

People are attracted to the person of Jesus Christ. Excessive structure and hiercharchy are not needed. The focus should never be on growing the ministry. The focus should be on growing the Kingdom. The church was never meant to be an institution. The church is supposed to be people movement — as it was in the book of Acts. Maintaing a Kingdom focus is yielding phenominal results.

Are your efforts focused on expanding and formalizing an institution or extending the Kingdom? How can you develop a more Kingdom-focused mindset?

Faith in the Face of Persecution
It’s impossible to describe the level of persecution Believers face in India. People are beaten or excommunicated for sharing the gospel. Believers become untouchable. They lose thier status in the community, their families disown them, and many lose their jobs. Far too many are killed because of their faith. Even so, people continue to choose Jesus.

The church in India shows a grit and faithfulness I have not see here in the US. They stand in the face of persecution and live as followers if Jesus. Their focus is not on escaping challenges but on standing strong through them. Jesus warned his followers that we would be persecuted. The church in India heeds these words and show up for the work Christ has called them to anyway.

This lesson challengs me the most, especially as I see the political challenges here in the US — the church’s largely disappointing response. The church in India stands as a shining example of what it looks like when the people of God live their Kingdom values even when it puts their safety and comfort at risk. I am praying that the Holy Spirit will set fire to the American church as our witness is needed now more than ever. We need to show what it means to follow Jesus, rather than pursuing power.

In India I learned that regardless of the political situation, the Kingdom of Heaven will advance. The only question is: will we be a part of it?

Are you living by the teachings of Jesus or the messages from culture? How are you choosing the way of Jesus over the way of convenience in your daily life?

I’m telling you, this trip changed my life. It changed me as a person of faith. My prayer is that this list challenges you and that it ignites a Holy Spirit-fueled fire in each of us to truly live as disciples of Jesus. This isn’t easy — it never has been. May we embrace that truth.