This year hasn’t turned out at all like I thought it would. I’m in what’s proving to be the most disruptive season of life I’ve ever experienced. I cry a lot - sometimes I’m not really sure why. But God’s presence is more real to me than it’s ever been and He’s meeting me in ways I didn’t know He could. So I’m trusting the process and believing that one day I’ll be able to tell this story from the other side.

I think having physical places that bring peace is important during hard seasons. It creates rhythms for our bodies to align with our souls. This is a picture of one where I’ve spent a lot of time this year. The way the wind blows here and the way the water moves calms my nervous system when I’m overwhelmed.

Music has always helped me process, too - the rhythms, the language, the poetry, the way it feels things for you that you can’t bring yourself to feel. So most of what’s in this roundup is music, plus a couple of books that brought me into the presence of Jesus in new ways.

Music I’ve Had On Repeat

Easy and Light

A few weeks ago, I had one of the most meaningful and transformative encounters with God that I’ve ever had. A friend and counselor walked me through deep healing in some areas I didn’t even know were wounded, and I’m still adjusting to the ways God changed me as a result.

At the end of our time together, I heard this song playing in my head and the two simple words “easy and light” have come to mind repeatedly as I’ve been learning how restorative life in His grace truly is.

Songs of Peace in Times of War - Savannah Locke (whole album)

I found this album because I listen to new music releases every Friday like it’s my full-time job. Annointed is the best word I can come up with to describe it. It’s clear this writer has known darkness and held onto hope.

Content Warning on God Have Mercy: Suicide (And just to be clear, I’m not contemplating this in any way. But I think most of us have had passing thoughts during difficult seasons that try to convince us things would be easier if we just weren’t here anymore. And I think it’s important to talk about that with people we trust. The perspective in this song is gracious and compassionate regardless of your experience with this topic.)

Baily Hager

I found Baily’s newest album, New Thing, the same way I found Songs of Peace - my Friday morning deep-dive into all the new music released that week.

It’s just as deep and laced with hope but a bit more upbeat. Her singles Lean on Me, Not Fake, and Good Days have become new favorites, too.

Safe to Love by Genock Gabriel with Abbie Gamboa

If you’ve read anything I’ve posted on Substack in the last year, you know I’m a forever fan of Abbie Gamboa. This song echoes her vulnerable style and connected with me in a place I feel like I’m just beginning to discover - how very safe God is.

Books

The Furious Longing of God by Brennan Manning

Furious and longing aren’t words I would have put together to describe God’s heart toward me before I read this book. Furious, maybe - but not in a good way. Longing, maybe - but in a way that makes me feel like He’s constantly expecting more from me.

We see God’s love through the broken lenses of people who failed to love us in ways that only He can. Manning clarifies those distortions in stunning descriptions of the love God always meant for us to experience from Him - love that’s willing to risk everything to reach us.

Also, Manning’s vocabulary is impeccable. You’ll learn a few new words that will tickle your brain for a while.

The Way of the Heart by Henri Nouwen

This book is deeply informed by fifth-century contemplatives known as the Desert Fathers and Mothers. If a peek into monastic life seems boring to you, I assure you this won’t leave you yawning.

Most of the time, we search for authenticity in performance - an oxymoron, I know. But we do it anyway, don’t we? The fast, loud pace of the world we live in convinces us that there’s something we can do to be the people we want to be - another accomplishment, another experience, another method.

My grandad used to say “Live simply, so others can simply live.” And the older I get, the more I think he was on to something. Sometimes just being with God - not to get anything or prove anything or say much - is the best way to become who we long to be.

Nouwen shares practical, proven advice on how to slow down and experience God’s presence.

I don’t know what kind of season you’re in. Maybe you feel like the sad is here to stay sometimes, too. If you do, I hope some of these resources meet you where you need a little hope. He’s with You. He’s for You. He’s closer than you think He is and He wants to give you peace.

And if you’re not in a sad season, can I encourage you to ask God to keep you tender toward those who are? I think we focus so much on joy and okay-ness sometimes (not always a bad thing) that we forget that Jesus was described as a man of sorrows who was familiar with grief. The way we sit with each other in the darkness deepens our capacity to experience joy together.

Whatever your season, what’s informing your heart right now? I’d love to hear about it!

The end of last year and beginning of this one have seemed like a whirlwind. Spent Christmas break in Maryland with family and rode the DC metro for the first time!

I also squeezed in a few great reads over the last few months, and discovered some new music that’s repeatedly rescued my heart and mind.

Books I’ve Read/Am Reading

The Allure of Gentleness by Dallas Willard

There’s been a lot of rhetoric about Christian apologetics these last several months. Everyone seems to have an opinion about how much defending God needs and how exactly to do it.

This book is a refreshing take on sharing Jesus without feeling like we have to defend Him - mostly by the witness of our lives rather than with clever turns of phrase.

The Familiar Stranger and Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools by Tyler Staton

A friend shared a podcast series about prayer from Tyler Staton’s church, and I immediately connected with his down-to-earth but theologically and philosophically rich teaching style.

I got The Familiar Stranger - an incredible treatise on the Holy Spirit - during Audible’s holiday sale. A week later, another friend (one who had no idea I’d started listening to Tyler’s teaching) handed me Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools as a Christmas gift. The serendipity was not lost on me. God’s been working in me deeply through both of these books as well as the Bridgetown Church podcast.

BONUS book: In an early chapter, Staton quotes a prayer from a book called Guerillas of Grace by Ted Loder. It was exactly what I needed in the moment, so I, of course, got the entire book. And I have no regrets.

Everything is Tuberculosis by John Green

I had NO IDEA how many practices we have today as a result of tuberculosis, or how deeply and recently the disease influenced our culture. Green weaves real-life stories with fascinating information, and his conversational writing style makes this an easy read.

Music I’ve Had on Repeat

Pat Barrett’s album Happily Hidden - THE WHOLE THING

It’s rare that I actually, truly like every single song on an album, but this one’s a rarity.

Made for Jesus by Brenden David & Maggie Red

The fact that this one seems to have been recorded to help with their daughter’s nightmares makes it extra special.

I Made It by CAIN

I saw CAIN in October, and they premiered the music video for this one at the concert! Grab your tissues - it’s a good one.

Honestly, it’s not quite true for me yet. I don’t feel like I’m on the other side of my hardest year yet. But this song’s helped me appreciate the process and hold onto the fact that everything is figure-outable.

moonflower by Abbie Gamboa

Writing a whole round-up without a single Abbie Gamboa song just didn’t seem like a great idea, so here’s another one. This one didn’t resonate with me when I first heard it, but the other day, the line “I wanna be where You are. Even in the dark - I wanna be where You are.” was running through my mind, and when I turned this one on, it HIT.

A Prayer I Keep Praying

Closing out this round-up with a prayer I came across on Instagram the other day. I watched it twice before I took a breath, I think. It’s stunning and really important for where we are in the world right now.

Loss and longing are constants here in the shadowlands.

And what we fear most may happen.

So how, then, shall we live?

We must stain God’s shirt with tears,

And announce how difficult it is to be here, but that we still are.

And we must cut loose from self-sufficiency, and trustfall into grace.

And we must protect ourselves from bitterness and a cynical heart, and so we must keep forgiving,

And we must trade in our armor for open arms, raised in surrender and a welcoming embrace.

We must hold ourselves captive in the high tower of hope, blinded by wonder, bound by joy, and winded in reverence.

And we must put ourselves in the way of awe (and binge-worthy series).

And we must not define our lives by our worst days, but neither should we by our best.

Most of life is in the middle.

We must enjoy each meal for the feast it is and raise our glasses, making extravagant toasts on very ordinary days. And we must keep loving, though the ache remains.

For the alternative is no alternative at all.

We must keep living one day at a time.

One day at a time.

One day at a time.

What are you reading, watching, or listening to these days? And how is it resonating with you? I’d love to hear about it!

September turned out to be a much fuller month than I anticipated, but a few songs, a few books, a documentary, and some time with friends kept me both curious and fully satisfied. If you find something you end up exploring, I’d love to hear about it! Most of the section titles have links to the content.

Music I’ve had on Repeat

Pour My Love on You by Abbie Gamboa

Yes, ANOTHER Abbie Gamboa! This one is a love song of worship to the One Who’s worthy of everything we are. The meditative nature of it has helped me step outside of myself into the presence of Jesus many times over the last few weeks. Our hearts really are all He’s after.

Authority by Housefires with Nick Day and Mighty Name of Jesus by Hope Darst

Sometimes when the voices in my head get loud, I need songs like these to remind me of what’s true and good and beautiful. Been singing these two out loud on repeat lately over myself, my family, and the people I care about.

A Movie I’m Still Thinking About

Buy Now - the Shopping Conspiracy - A documentary

Sunday afternoons are my documentary watching time. Yes, I’m aware that’s nerdy and no, I’m not ashamed of it at all. As someone who works in a marketing-adjacent field, I thought this might have some insight into consumer mindsets. While that was part of its purpose, it also got me thinking a lot about what happens to all the stuff we just can’t live without when we, well…end up deciding to live without it.

I think sometimes conservative Christians allow conversations about stewardship of the earth to become disputes about environmental extremism. It’s a fact that God gave us the earth to use, but when the consequences of our consumption become issues affecting the wellbeing of image bearers, it’s time to get curious about making better choices. Even if those choices don’t impact the farthest-reaching realities, they reflect what we value and can become avenues of influence that point people to Jesus.

Books

An Impossible Marriage by Laurie Krieg

This book was STUNNING in every form of the word. I listened to the audio and it was like listening to a friend’s most personal encounters with Jesus. By walking out their story, Laurie and Matt Krieg have earned an understanding of God’s intent for marriage that’s both rare and compelling. Hearing them describe how Jesus met them in their darkest moments drew my heart and soul into deep fellowship with Him and motivated me to engage with His leading in ways I’ve known I needed to for a while.

A Letter of Mary by Laurie King

FINALLY finished this one! First wrote about it in July. I’d found it at a library book sale and realized it was the third in a series, which I looked up immediately upon finishing it. Apparently there are 19 in the series! Ordered a few more from Thriftbooks. (If you’ve never tried Thriftbooks, you are missing OUT!)

Experience Jesus, Really by John Eldredge

Every time I engage with John Eldredge’s teachings, I encounter a renewed sense of wonder toward God and a renewed desire to be with Him experientially. In much of his work, Eldredge simply and practically shares what it looks like to walk closely with God in the day to day happenings of life. I highly recommend the audio version of this book, since Eldredge takes some time to enhance the content for listeners in ways the printed version doesn’t.

Desire by Jay Stringer

This book isn’t releasing until March, but I’ve been HIGHLY anticipating it and was pleasantly surprised when I saw the official pre-order launch. Several months ago, I participated in a survey the author released in preparation for the book. I’m eager to see the trends discovered from over 4,000 participants who opened their souls to share how what we want at the core of our beings influences everything we choose.

His first book, Unwanted: How Sexual Brokenness Reveals Our Way to Healing, deeply impacted me. I refer to it often in conversations with friends and acquaintances that turn toward the topic.

His newest work, Desire: The Longings Inside Us and the New Science of How We Love, Heal, and Grow, is sure to be just as insightful and transformational. Jay offers compassionate curiosity toward the real-life, soul-deep issues faced by all humankind, granting readers the freedom to explore the patterns that shape who we are in safe and sustainable ways.

If you’ve never read Unwanted, it’s a great place to begin exploring Jay’s work. Whether or not you’ve struggled with sexual issues, it offers incredible insight into the ways God heals our souls, not in spite of, but THROUGH our brokenness.

Community

The rest of what shaped me this month happened in close communion with friends, family, coworkers, and Jesus. Friend, if you’re not involved in regular community, can I gently ask you to get curious about that for yourself? I’m an internal processor and my tendency when things get tense in life or relationships is to isolate and numb. But Jesus’ work in me is helping me see the beauty and wonder and priceless value of leaning in and letting myself be known when I want to hide.

Sometimes that’s messy. And sometimes it’s a glimpse of heaven. But we never know what we might be missing if we let the fear of it being messy keep us from the possibility of heaven on earth.

A couple of years ago, I wrote about community and how our attempts to control what we experience with others often choke the effectiveness of communion in our lives. You can find it here. It includes a list of a few resources I found helpful as I developed an appetite for deeper communion with God and others. I’ve learned a lot since then, and maybe I’ll elaborate on that at some point.

But for now, I’d love to leave you with an invitation to lean in to the community God’s placed in your life - including with Himself. Being alone and unknown is one of the only things He calls “not good.” And His loving presence through Himself and His people offers us all the goodness we could ever want if we’ll open ourselves to it.

So that’s a wrap on September! I’d LOVE - truly - to hear what’s shaping you right now. Even if we’ve never had a real-life conversation about anything, I think God makes His marks on our lives in the most unexpected interactions. Whoever you are, if you’d like to connect, please reach out!

Here’s a little background on the series if you’re new.

Let’s jump into my favorites from August!

Music I’ve had on Repeat

This Is How I Thank the Lord by Mosaic MSC

This song came up on a random worship playlist I was listening to a few months ago. Now it comes to mind every time my heart is overflowing with gratitude and I’m searching for ways to express to God how truly worthy He is.

Thank You So Much, Jesus by Aodhan King

Found this one on a random worship playlist, too and I’ve listened to it at least once nearly every day since. Such a beautiful expression of gratitude to the One Who deserves it all.

Books I Finished

NONE. This month, my brother’s family was able to be in Pensacola for a little over 3 weeks - a true gift for siblings who haven’t lived near each other in almost a decade. We spent nearly every spare minute together and I have no regrets.

I DID, however, spend a lot of time in Psalms. Just before they came, I’d done a 20-day journey through the entire book of Psalms, so it was fresh on my mind. As the (good but heavy) weariness of long workdays combined with long family nights set in, Psalms ignited my heart most mornings.

Here’s how I broke up my 20-day Psalms journey.

Day 1 - 1-8

Day 2 - 9-14

Day 3 - 15-21

Day 4 - 22-28

Day 5 - 29-35

Day 6 - 36-42

Day 7 - 43-50

Day 8 - 51-56

Day 9 - 57-63

Day 10 - 64-70

Day 11 - 71-77

Day 12 - 78-84

Day 13 - 85-91

Day 14 - 92-98

Day 15 - 99-105

Day 16 - 106-112

Day 17 - 113-119

Day 18 - 120-125

Day 19 - 126-132

Day 20 - 133-150

These books are incredible supports to time in the poetry of the Psalmists. The writings include a Scripture-based reflective prayer/poem for every Psalm, expounding on the passage’s message and linking it to other Scriptures that deepen the meaning.

The Psalm I returned to the most this month was 143. The desperation and desire expressed spoke deeply into my circumstances. Verse 6 became especially meaningful after a series of interactions with my youngest nephew. Here’s what I wrote about it.

Books I’m Making Progress In

I’m still making may way through last month’s reads, and I added a few more because I can’t help myself.

The Making of Biblical Womanhood by Beth Alison Barr

The issue of women’s roles in ministry is hotly debated still in many traditions. This book gives a fascinating history on the topic, tracing women’s involvement back as far as the early church, through the medieval age, and into today’s debates.

Spellbound by Molly Worthen

Another fascinating trek through history - this time from the Puritan age to today. Worthen analyzes how charisma has shaped American leaders through the centuries and the role citizens play in elevating these types of leaders - some for good and others for evil - when we fail to find fullfillment and meaning in life with Christ.

Other Content That Left an Impact

During my family’s visit, we spent a Saturday at the National WWII Museum in New Orleans, Louisiana. It’s one of my favorite museums and is only a 3 hour drive from my home! I’m a VERY slow museum processer and thoroughly enjoyed answering a plethora of questions from my oldest nephew. Finding age-appropriate ways to explain big truths helps me understand them on a deeper level, and exploring a kid’s curiosities with them brings me so much joy!

I think my favorite sectors in this museum are a life-sized replica of Ann Frank’s home, complete with narration from her journals while her family cared for Jews during the Holocaust. And a life-sized replica of catacombs where Hitler hid billions of dollars worth of fine art he pillaged from his conquests. It reminds me that beauty is an assault to evil and motivates me to be inentional about making space and time for beauty as I navigate life outside of Eden.

Well, that wraps up some of the best things I meditated on in August! As busy as the month was, taking time to intentionally consume content that made me think, made me laugh, and helped me draw closer to God strengthened my spirit during long days.

What have YOU been reading, watching, and listening to lately? How has it made you think, changed your mind, or helped you laugh? I’d love to hear about it!

Since it’s the first one, here’s a little groundwork on why I’m doing this series.

1. What we consume shapes what we think. Learning about what motivates people to act is keenly interesting to me. And the content we consume has a significant influence on our thoughts and the choices we make.

2. There’s way too much content in the world to choose from. Maybe you’re someone who effortlessly avoids information FOMO. I am not. If there are fifteen different ways to view a subject, I’m digging for all of them so nothing escapes my careful analysis and shows up later to surprise me. It can be exhausting, and I’m working with God to help my spirit partner with HIM to discern rather than looking for endless information. As someone with a tendency to over-consume content, I appreciate recommendations from others because they help me narrow my focus. So if you’re a fellow information FOMO-er, this is for you.

3. As a contemplative, I’ve found that sharing what I’m mulling over helps the best thoughts stay and the not-so-great ones walk away. I often find myself moved by something and desiring to invite someone else into conversation about it. Lots of times, I’ll call or text a friend or share it next time I see them. Sometimes I journal or talk to God about it. I’m an internal processor who’s learning to be more open, and I’m realizing that a lot of the things rattling around in my head find their place to live or find their necessary way out when I share them with someone else.

Now that you know why I’m sharing, here’s what’ll cause something to make the list.

1. It positioned my heart for closeness to God. While the age of information gluttony does have some benefits, I don’t think the human mind was ever meant to have access to unlimited information. It gives us way too many leads to chase and, for me, sometimes crowds my heart from having room for God to speak. Things I share here will have done the opposite, calming my mind, turning my heart toward Him, and clearing space for His voice to land.

2. It challenged the way I view something. We all need content that helps us see other perspectives on even our most strongly held beliefs. Ideas that can’t be challenged without making us defensive often need further examination.

3. It made me laugh. If you know me, you know it doesn’t take much to elicit a good giggle, so I’m keeping it to things that I still find funny after the initial amusement wears off.

So, now that we’ve set a few expectations for this series, here’s July’s best!

Music I’ve had on Repeat

Pure - Abbie Gamboa

Abbie has a GIFT for soul-stirring worship, and I’ve entered the presence of God more than once upon hearing these songs. “Eyes Locked on the King” has become my ritual for transitioning from work to home. Those first few minutes in the car, these opening lines set the tone for letting go of the day — “There’s a place I retreat/Shake the dust off of my feet/The noise turns dull/I hear You speak/It’s a different kind of peace.”

Eyes Locked on the King - Abbie Gamboa

Books I Finished

Click titles for links!

Crucial Conversations by Joseph Grenny, Kerry Patterson, Ron McMillan, Al Switzler, and Emily Gregory

Yep, you read that right — five authors. These researchers put together years of analysis from the most-liked employees at dozens of companies and developed a practical set of tools for navigating conversations when emotions run high, results are critical, and collaboration is non-negotiable. I started reading the audio (which I got on a super-sweet $2 deal during the Audible summer sale ^{👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼}), then ordered a hard copy about halfway through chapter 2 because I KNOW I will be returning to this one for help down the road.

The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien (for the I-don’t-know-how-many-th time)

This audio by Andy Serkis (which I ALSO snagged for a ridiculously low price during the Audible summer sale) is the BEST. Also, when I was grabbing that link, I noticed there’s a Kindle version with audio and video on sale for $1.99 right now!

Make Sense of Your Story by Adam Young

This one’s going to be with me for a while. I started listening to Adam’s podcast several years ago when a friend posted an episode about anxiety. It’s worth every second of the time it takes to listen, and his book is no different. Scripture-based, neuroscience-informed, and transformational. There’s a chapter on making sense of our cultural narrative that challenged me to pause more when considering how our country’s history is playing into current culture. Throughout the book, Adam deliberately chooses rich language that confronts reality with piercing honesty and equips readers to notice how their past is still shaping their present.

Books I’m Making Progress In

Snagged both of these off a local library’s “for sale” shelf when I was visiting family in Ohio!

Sacred Pathways by Gary Thomas

I’ve been wanting to read this one since seeing it mentioned in Emily P. Freeman’s How to Walk Into a Room last year. I LOVE finding books I’ve been hoping to read out in the wild, especially when they’re only $2. So far, it’s enlightening. Thomas proposes that there are nine different spiritual “temperaments,” or ways people encounter God. (Ex. - Naturalists encounter God best in nature. Contemplatives encounter God best in solitude.) He encourages exploration of these ways and points out that the same method of meeting with God doesn’t work for all people everywhere, just as no two human relationships are exactly alike. I’ve enjoyed that he balances the strengths of each temperament with their weaknesses and tendencies.

A Letter of Mary by Laurie King

This one was purely for fun, and the story is fascinating so far. King continues the saga of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes character, marrying him off to Mary Russell, and imagining the mysteries they encounter together. In this particular tale, an old archaeologist acquaintance of Mary’s mysteriously dies after surfacing to gift the couple a manuscript believed to have been written by Mary Magdalene, and which indicated her place among the apostles. I’m about six chapters in, and I can’t put it down! I learned it’s part of a series, so, naturally, I’ll need to read the others next. Sherlock’s relationship with Mary is entertaining, and their interactions, endearing.

Well, that wraps up July’s best! Keeping it light this time to give space for shaping this series.

What have YOU been reading, watching, and listening to lately? How has it made you think, changed your mind, or helped you laugh? I’d love to hear about it!

Have you ever read in a story, or seen in a movie, or maybe just witnessed in real life the way people in snowstorms will tie a rope to a point they’re leaving and then tie the other end to a point they’re going to so they can find their way back? That’s kind of what this concept is becoming for me. A way to navigate when I can’t see.

The other day, I was talking to a friend about bewildering situations we’re both facing. I shared that I’d found some comfort in reminding myself that it wasn’t supposed to be this way. That the world God created us to live in and the one we actually live in were never supposed to be so different.

• That peace was never supposed to feel so elusive.

• That our experience of life and our understanding of God were never supposed to be at war with one another.

• That the pain of fractured family was never supposed to cause us to wonder where we belong.

• That the lens of broken love was never supposed to drive us to suspect God might not actually care about us.

My friend shared that she and her husband had recently discussed a similar idea. They’ve adopted kids with whom they bravely and transparently hold the tension of being the parents their kids need now, but not the parents God originally wanted them to have. When things get tough, they give themselves grace by remembering that it IS tough living in the tension of what was supposed to be and what is - no matter how bad the “supposed to be” was or how good the “is” is.

As beings made in the image of God, the way He created things to be is written on our hearts (Romans 2:15). And when that ordered design is disrupted, we’re forced to cope with realities contrary to that innate knowledge.

I love it when God shows multiple of His children similar things around the same time, like He did for me and my friend. It’s as if, knowing how prone we are to question His kind and gentle revelations to our hearts, He’s ensuring we know it’s Him by confirming what we’re hearing in ways that only He can. Through conversation with my friend, He was establishing His presence in my wilderness, reminding me that, while His grace is enough and He’s never not in control, He also understands the tension and grief we feel when what we encounter in the world and what we know in our hearts about Him don’t line up. Both things can be true at the same time - that He is redeeming our pain, and that He suffers with us (Hebrews 4:15).

In our piety, we can extract overly simplified applications rooted in certainty from the concept of wilderness. We try to convince ourselves that the pain of living in a broken world isn’t all that bad because God is just so good. We rush to find reasons we can use to make sense of our bewilderment.

But just because God can make good out of something doesn’t mean it’s good in itself. When we’re honest, none of us looks gleefully upon the most confusing aspects of our lives. And I think we do a disservice to the wonder of God’s power to redeem when we fail to allow ourselves to lament the circumstances that cause redemption to be necessary in the first place.

What is and what’s supposed to be aren’t mutually exclusive. Learning to hold the tension of both is a key aspect of deep, stable faith.

• God can be good, and your heart can be heavy at the same time.

• God can be just, and you can grieve the sting of injustice at the same time.

• God can be loving, and you can ask Him if He cares about you at the same time.

• God can be sovereign, and you can groan to Him that His ways seem harsh and hurtful at the same time.

We do not worship a God so fragile that He needs our tidy, short-sighted explanations of His purposes to defend His character. His presence in us, working through us, is enough to sustain and empower us to walk beside each other through life’s wildernesses. If, rather than rushing to explanations and reasons, we’ll be honest about the tension we feel between what is and what should be, those places that seem confusing, empty, and directionless will transform into places where our certainty becomes trust.

Trust is both wild and rewarding. (Another nugget from a recent conversation with a friend.) But trust isn’t needed when I have all the answers. When I’m trying to explain why God might be doing what He’s doing, or trying to get Him to explain it, I’m missing out on His presence, and I’m missing the point. Intimate connection requires trust. And trust requires vulnerability. And vulnerability requires me to admit that I might be sitting with uncertainty right now. But I’m not sitting there alone.

Wilderness is becoming an anchor for me because I’m recognizing that it’s where I learn to trust. When fulfillment, direction, stability, clarity, and peace seem elusive, I’m best positioned to fix my eyes on Jesus and completely lean on His presence to guide me. Seasons when my explanations, answers, schemes, and coping tools fail are a gift if I’m brave enough to admit I’m at my end.

Jesus takes that rope I held to get to where I am, loosens it from where I’ve been, gives me both ends, invites me to tie it to where I am now, and leads me on a path to the next stop. He’s the only safe passage between what is and what’s supposed to be. He’s the only One who can define both. From one glorious revelation to the next, He changes me into the person He knows I can be. (2 Cor. 3:18)

The way to cope with the tension of life outside of the perfect world God designed isn’t to try and recreate that world with systems of certainty. It’s to bravely admit how very broken we are, to allow ourselves to feel that brokenness in our own circumstances and those of others. And then to trust that the One Who is making all things new sees to us where we are as He leads us where we can only go with His help, through no strength of our own. He is in us. We are in Him - loved by Him, loving Him, and overflowing with love toward those He created.

Recently, I’ve found my words again and I’m redefining this space into something I’m calling “the Wilderness Way.” If you subscribed to the very little content that was here, thank you. If you’re new, welcome!

This post is a little launchpad for the direction I hope this goes. I’m honored you’d take a moment to read. If you’d like an email when I post new content, you can type your address and hit that green subscribe button.

Defining the Wilderness Way

I never thought I’d own my own home as a single woman in my 30s. Buying a house didn’t cross my mind for a lot of years because I saw it as something to do after getting married and having a family.

But in 2020 (January – before the world changed forever), I knew I needed my own space to make into a home. So, I started looking with the help of a college friend who’s a realtor. She found the perfect place for me, and I moved in January 2021. My sister Amy lived with me at the time, and we affectionately named the house “the wilderness” (because, you know, Moseses lived in it).

I liked the name so much and was so overwhelmed at the goodness of God in guiding me into home ownership, that I commissioned a friend to make me a painting of the house with the name “the Wilderness” on it. At first, it was just a humorous play on my last name that I’d smirk at when I thought about it. But as I walked past that picture day to day, the concept of “wilderness” started speaking more deeply to me.

In relation to land, Merriam Webster defines wilderness as “an empty or pathless area or region; a part of a garden devoted to wild growth; an area essentially undisturbed by human activity together with its naturally developed life community.”

Shakespeare used the word to denote “a confusing multitude or mass; an indefinitely great number or quantity,” when his character Shylock in The Merchant of Venice exclaimed, “I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys!”

Metaphorically, Webster defines wilderness in the way many followers of Jesus like me have come to commonly use the term – “a bewildering situation.”

Sometimes I look at my life and call it many of those things – empty, pathless, full of unruly growth, confusing, bewildering. I used to think that was a result of being unmarried at an age when many in my community, including myself, thought I would be. But as I’ve walked through life alongside people in various stages, I’ve come to realize that most of us can in one way or another describe portions of our lives – whether they be seasons or specific areas – in the same way.

I’m not suggesting that we spend most of our days in a dismal existence. Even the darkest seasons are full of so many pockets of light if we just look for them. Yet even when life is amazing, something in us recognizes that we reside outside of the most wonderful realities for which we were created.

The craving for sustained fulfillment, direction, stability, clarity, and peace (the opposites of wilderness) resides in all of us as image-bearers of God. He embodies all those things, so, as beings created in His likeness, we naturally long for them.

The things we think will satisfy that craving often, in many ways, do, because God is a giver of good gifts. Things like…

• Building a community of people who will love us and allow us to love them.

• Committing our lives to one person in covenant marriage.

• Seeing that covenant love reproduce life in the form of children.

• Finding meaningful vocation and recreation.

• Enjoying rich, nourishing food.

• Exploring our God-given creativity and logical reasoning in ways that bring beauty and order to the world around us.

But as life unfolds, we find that, even the most beautiful, fulfilling parts of it have tinges of gray, or, worse, become outright dark.

• The community where we felt so safe betrays us.

• The marriage covenant we made is harder to live out than we anticipated, or maybe it shatters altogether.

• The children we hoped for don’t come, or they do come, but their health or waywardness or just the hard task of raising humans causes pain.

• Vocation becomes toilsome. The joy of recreation doesn’t last.

• Our bodies become dysfunctional, and nourishment becomes a source of guilt or a burden.

• Our creativity feels fruitless and foolish, and our ability to make sense of the world fails us, leaving us feeling misunderstood and disoriented.

Ever since sin and death entered the world, no human being has escaped life unscathed by the effects of wilderness. We all wear the marks of moments and seasons that ushered us into realities we never imagined would be ours. And still, each of us has a God-given choice about where we turn and what we do when we find ourselves in places that feel more empty, directionless, unruly, confusing, and bewildering than they do fulfilling, guided, stable, clear, and peaceful.

If you’re reading this, I’m assuming you know a general framework of the Bible, so I’m going to briefly summarize a few examples of wilderness found in it. If these stories are new to you or you’d like to revisit them through the lens of wilderness, I’m including Scripture references where the accounts can be found. You may identify aspects of your own story here, and that’s because these people were human just like us, made and cared for by the same God Who is involved in our lives today.

Moses – Caught, Delayed, and Subservient

Before becoming the guide to deliverance for God’s chosen people, Moses spent a 40-year season in the wilderness. After attempting small-scale deliverance in his own strength by zealously murdering an Egyptian to stop his abusive behavior, Moses fled from retaliation, ending up as a caretaker of another man’s livelihood for 4 decades. (Exodus 3:1; Acts 7:30)

David – Undervalued, Misunderstood, and Maliciously Pursued

After being anointed as the king of Israel, David spent an unknown number of years (perhaps 15-20) being periodically pursued nearly to death by the hatred of the current king. Before that, he’d spent his entire life as the family outcast – so much so that no one in his family thought to call him as a contender to be used by God when the prophet Samuel came around. (1 Samuel 16; 18:9)

Jesus – Vulnerable and Attacked

Immediately after being publicly recognized as the Son of God by the voice of His Father from heaven, Jesus entered a wilderness season by following the Holy Spirit’s leading. After eating and drinking nothing for 40 days, His enemy, the accuser, tried to lure Him with promises of having more, hurting less, and ruling faster in exchange for His allegiance. In His weakened, vulnerable state, He was targeted for attack. (Matthew 4; Mark 1, Luke 4)

It's simple for us to look at these wilderness seasons from the perspective of our outsider knowledge. Having the privilege of knowing the highlights of their stories, we can call their wilderness ultimately “good.” But each being fully human, though One being also God, they no doubt felt the bitter ache you and I feel when we find ourselves caught, delayed, subservient, undervalued, misunderstood, maliciously pursued, vulnerable, and attacked.

Their wilderness wasn’t their whole story, but it did have a significant impact.

What I’m trying to say is that I think, no matter how “heaven on earth” life can get, it will always have elements of wilderness – for better or worse. So, our task is to learn how to live in such a way that, no matter what our wildernesses bring, we posture ourselves toward fellowship with the One Who remains the same in every season.

Lately, I’ve been leaning into a statement Jesus made to His disciples the night before another of His wilderness experiences – facing all the evil in the universe head-on. I think it’s the most intimate, transformative statement He made.

As He offers comfort to His friends, one asks to be shown God the Father. Jesus patiently explains that to know Him is to know the Father, for they are One in the same. He elaborates on the nature of their oneness, then offers a stunning revelation – that, after He leaves them and returns to His glorified place in heaven, there will also be oneness between Him and us through the Holy Spirit. (John 14)

I in you and you in Me. He in us and we in Him. We were made for union with God. He offered us a picture of that union within the covenant of marriage. I don’t mean to be irreverent, but even the anatomical design of male and female union echoes this one central truth – I in you, and you in me. That most wonderful of human unions, however, bears only a fuzzy resemblance to our union with God.

No community can replace it.

No marriage can replace it.

No child can replace it.

No vocation can replace it.

No recreation can replace it.

No physical nourishment can replace it.

No creative or intellectual endeavor can replace it.

There is only one way through the wilderness portions of life – opening ourselves to deeper union with God as the ultimate quest of our lives.

And so, from my posture as a single woman in her 30s, walking through wildernesses not so dissimilar from anyone else’s, I’d like to propose that all the moments and seasons both beautiful and burdensome that mark our lives outside of Eden have a singular purpose – to draw us into and develop our union with God.

Often, my exploration of that union in my own life leads me to write. So, I created this space to share some of the fruit from my union with God in hopes that it’ll encourage you to go deeper with Him. Nothing would give me greater joy than to hear how He draws you close and nurtures His union with you!

If you’re looking for a place to begin, Jesus’ prayer in John 17 is a worthy read. It clearly expresses that this unbridled, unmatched union is His desire for us. Read it over and over, letting it seep into all the places where you’re facing wilderness. Then say these words out loud: “I in You, and You in me. Heal my union with You, God.”

I promise you He hears and honors that prayer, because it’s His deepest longing – that we would be one with Him, and, as a result, one with each other in Him.

The wilderness way is the way of leaning into union with God – being loved by Him, loving Him, and overflowing with love toward those He created.

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I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.

We know that the whole creation has been groaning, as in the pains of childbirth, right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.

– Romans 8:18-25

Hidden & Holy Helper,

You watched patiently, painfully, as Your first-made man chose the vanity of control over the safety of surrender to Your love.

You watch still – prayerfully, perceptively, as we, the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve*, groan under the weight of that first deception - believing our devices can relieve our longings for the wholeness of Eden.

Teach us to sit in the tension of desire.

Ignite our passion for stillness rather than striving.

Draw us into the depths of despair when we would rather run from it.

That we would know the grace and comfort of falling apart in Your presence.

Your hope and healing are unrivaled.

Your passionate pursuit leaves us speechless, yet unable to contain our worship.

*This is a reference to C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia.

God of Astonishing Endings,

You Who patiently prove Yourself trustworthy to strong-willed, suspicious creatures bent on asserting our schemes. Unbound by time, unshaken by our wandering, You provide safety while we writhe against Your warm embrace.

Shatter our strongholds of doubt.

Train our fractured brains to see healing grace in Your delays and denials.

Rescue the anxious parts of us that rush to accuse You.

Form in us the courage to loosen our grasp on the tattered trinkets we gather, believing they’ll weaken our worries.

That we might exchange them for the good and perfect gifts only You can imagine for us. And that, in collecting all our hope into You alone, our souls will experience the stable sanctuary which our striving cannot secure.

Your dormancy is our haven – a place of unparalleled communion from which we emerge restored, renewed, rested, and reassured of Your flawless affection.

We praise You in Your pauses.

Community can be challenging as adults. Building meaningful connections where we’re known, challenged, supported, and can grow together takes a lot of intentionality. And frankly, as much as we know we need it, and even though we crave it, it can be exhausting.

Sometimes connecting with a new person is easy. Sometimes it takes time to warm up to each other. Sometimes we feel awkwardly matched. Sometimes things start great, then go wrong unexpectedly. And sometimes years-long friendships suddenly fall apart.

We all respond in different ways to the roller coaster that is human connectedness. Maybe you’re a hyper-self-aware heart searcher like I am. Here’s something God’s been showing me lately.

Blaming myself when someone doesn’t want to be part of my life is a form of control. It demonstrates a core belief that every person I want to be part of my life should be. And that modifying my behavior to whatever the person needs/wants will make them stay and behave the way I desire of them. This is both acting in a controlling manner and relinquishing control to the other person. I’ve been mastered, and not by the Holy Spirit. I’m making people, not God, the center of my existence. I’m failing to trust that God knows the people who should be part of my life and that He will pave the way for the connections He knows I need.

Believing that my life can only be whole with a certain person or group of people in it is idolatry. I’m placing another god – man’s approval – before God my Father. I know this because it causes my peace to be disturbed and often causes confusion and evil surmisings (1 Timothy 6:4). “What did I do wrong?” “What did they do wrong?” I begin falling into a long black tunnel of questions that have no answers. I become irritable with and distant from the people who have demonstrated a desire to be part of my life.

The fruit produced by this desire for community that’s fallen out of order is often strife and envying. I start to despise the very thing I wanted because I can’t have it how and when I want it. We watch children spiral into this out-of-control state and laugh or scold, quickly forgetting that adults are often just as quick to do so. Maybe we don’t wail and hit, but we certainly pout. Some of us default to simmering until we boil over. Others boil over first and then the simmering starts. We go days without peace. We call our tirades against humanity (or against one human in particular) “wisdom.” But James cautions us to look at the fruits of our wisdom, describing God’s wisdom as pure, peaceable, gentle, easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy. (James 3:17)

I’ve been learning the freedom and comfort of both writing my own prayers to refer back to and adapting the prayers other people write to help me when I lack words. Here’s a prayer that was born as I contemplated these thoughts.

Father, you created me for community, and I agree with you that it’s a necessary part of a healthy Christian life. Forgive me for sometimes isolating myself. Forgive me for placing both too much and not enough confidence in the people You’ve sent to be part of my life. I need balance I can’t achieve on my own. Holy Spirit, guide my interactions with others. Help me to acknowledge their value in my life without requiring them to meet needs only You can meet for me. Settle my soul in Your steadfast, unconditional love for me. Remind me when I forget that You’re always with me, working things together for my good.

A few great books on this topic

• The Cost of Control by Sharon Hodde Miller

• Get Out of Your Head by Jennie Allen

• Find Your People by Jennie Allen

• Escaping Enemy Mode by Jim Wilder and Ray Wooldridge

This year, I’ve been learning about the liturgical calendar – the seasonal cycle of events that make up the gospel story of Christ’s birth, life, death, resurrection, and ascension. Celebrations, feasts, and observances occur from Advent, which begins 4 Sundays before Christmas Day, to Pentecost, when the church was given the gift of the Holy Spirit. The liturgical cycle provides a framework for centering our lives on Christ.

The industrial and information ages have caused mass commercialization of the seasons and holidays, often distracting us from the the roots of their origins. I'm not suggesting we dismiss all our modern traditions, but calling us to curiosity about their significance.

Developing a solid why behind our celebrations frees us from the emptiness that often accompanies them when our expectations go unmet and from striving to make them what our culture wants them to be. We become more grounded, understanding that, with Christ as the center, every season’s tension between celebration and disappointment points to a perfect day when sorrow ceases to exist, and joy refuses to fade in the presence of our Savior. (Isaiah 25:8; Revelation 21:4; Psalm 16:11)

I wanted to work through some of the traditions with a group, but my church doesn’t incorporate the liturgical year except for Christmas and Easter. I’m still learning the story behind why the Evangelical church seems to have abandoned the liturgical calendar and why there seems to be an awakening to it in recent years.

As I pondered these things, a friend reached out asking if I’d want to participate in an Advent study group. After God and I had a little “You’re awesome.” moment, I eagerly agreed.

The Advent season’s four weeks each represent virtues Christ introduced to the world – hope, faith, joy, and peace. One is celebrated each week leading up to Christmas.

This unfolding of hope’s rich meaning has been a lifeline for me lately.

The word hope occurs 69 times in 68 Old Testament verses and 61 times in 53 New Testament verses.

If you’re interested, I made a chart. Because I really like making charts. You can check it out here. Welcome to my word nerd world.

Hope is both a verb and a noun, and I couldn't find an English definition that would really do its meaning justice.

If you want to read all the words and their meanings, check out the chart. Did I mention I really enjoy making charts?

Here are my modified definitions of hope based on all those original-language words. I don’t think Merriam-Webster will hire me, but I’m ok with that.

Hope (as a verb): The act of patiently waiting for an outcome (usually a desirable one). Not blind optimism, but a conscious choice to carefully analyze the thing hoped for or the one hoped in, then to anchor our trust in its reliability, patiently enduring the tension when what is and what we desire don’t agree.

Hope (as a noun): A person, place, or thing worthy of absolute trust, capable of collecting all our confidence without failing to offer security. A person or place in which we can anchor every expectation. A posture of flourishing made possible by unalterable safety.

This is hope.

We’re all capable of both choosing and losing hope, regardless of our circumstances. When chosen, it multiplies. When lost, it can be restored by honest confession before God and others.

Both hope and hopelessness are contagious.

The following thoughts and quotes are taken from the book This Too Shall Last by K. J. Ramsey, which, until I started writing this, had nothing to do with my hope study in my mind. I LOVE when seemingly unrelated things click together. It makes me feel all tingly and super alive and like getting up and running a mile or something crazy like that.

Here's what she shared about hope's effects.

“My wholeness is inextricably linked to yours. My hope is bound up in yours. My capacity to taste and see that the Lord is good is not a fruit of my own determination, but the fruit of willing, self-sacrificing love.” Allowing ourselves to be known and loved in the places where we feel most afraid or ashamed unlocks hope and enlightens our darkness. 

Perhaps our fear of grief, lament, and acknowledging our need for each other and God is what’s keeping us from living a hope-filled existence. “Being fiercely honest about not being enough is what creates and shapes intimacy with God.” Only in candor with our Maker can pain dwell WITH praise, the reality of each deepening the power of the other to bind us to Him.

“The beauty of lamenting your pain is that your cynicism is refined into grief, your scapegoating is refined into trust, your anxiety is refined into rest.” - Chuck DeGroat

This is hope.

Hope grounded in anything other than Christ will eventually turn to hopelessness. It can be strong but misplaced. (Job 8:13-14; 31:24)

How we view God shapes how we view ourselves and how we interact with others. Our relationships with our earliest primary caregivers significantly impact how we view God. I'm not suggesting a blame-your-parents-for-everything solution. But the fact is, we live in a broken world full of broken people who are populating it with more broken people. Nothing and no one works the way God intended. (Psalm 14:3; Romans 3:12) We spend our lifetimes learning and unlearning Who He really is since none of us can represent Him perfectly.

BUT...

He invites us into hope with six beautiful words “Behold, I make all things new.” (Revelation 21:5) That word make is active – He is making all things new. We groan within ourselves, awaiting the day when all things are made perfect (Romans 8:22). We lament broken relationships and struggle to know God when our hearts are pained by the relational hurt we experience. Brokenness and hope can coexist without hypocrisy because God’s process of healing all that’s broken has already begun. The gospel is more than good news for eternal security; it’s good news that can transform the lives of everyone who will believe in its power to do so. (1 Peter 1:3-7)

This is hope.

Words for hope are significantly used in the Bible by those known for experiencing dire circumstances.

Job, David, Jeremiah, and Paul each experienced some form of excruciating physical, emotional, mental, or relational pain. Yet their writings are sprinkled with more mentions of hope than those of any other Bible contributor (which you can see…you guessed it…in the chart).

Here are K. J. Ramsey’s unmistakably appropriate words again. I can’t say it any better. (However, the parenthetical statements are mine.)

“Suffering kills the God I thought I was worshipping, so I can know the God Who is actually here (Emmanuel, God with us). We can’t scrunch our face, hope really hard, and open our eyes to believing in a God who is love, when we’ve spent a lifetime accustomed to believing God might be punishing us. Will I allow suffering to strip away the angry God who I fear, but want to love (the tension of hopelessness), so I can encounter the God who loves me in my fear?” (choosing to rest in hope)

Hopelessness is a reality that does not have to define any of us, in any area of our lives. The places we feel most abandoned by God are the places He's using to guide us into perfect hope, of which He is and will always be the only secure object.

This is hope.

Hope in God's grace is the antidote for shame.

Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: by Whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. (Romans 5:1-2)

Shame tells us we will never be enough. The tricky thing about that is, it's true. But Satan is a master deceiver. Healthy shame (conviction) triggers our brains to enact a behavioral change and humbly accept the grace of God while maintaining a relational stance toward others, including God. (For more on this, see The Other Half of Church by Jim Wilder and Michel Hendricks and Escaping Enemy Mode by Jim Wilder and Ray Wooldridge.)

Satan's version of shame twists our hearts and minds into believing that we can outrun the feelings of shame, which we often do either by continuing to act in a shameful way and numbing ourselves to the inevitable remorse or by striving to do enough good to overcome the shame we feel. Both are false remedies infused with pride because both deny our desperate need for the grace of God. Both have devastating relational effects, causing us to alienate ourselves from God and others.

Hoping in God's grace is the antidote for (not just the avoidance of) shame. We cannot learn to "love ourselves" enough or do enough "righteous" works to undo shame's effects. The only remedy is full surrender to the grace of God purchased for us by Jesus Christ, Who absorbed every ounce of humiliation we have or will ever feel.

This is hope.

(For more on this, see When Strivings Cease by Ruth Chou Simons, specifically chapter 7, "Honor and Shame; Striving to Outrun Shame.")

What’s giving you hope this season?

Where do you feel hopeless?

In what ways can you see God showing up in your hope or hopelessness?

I'd love to hear from you!

Hope Playlist

The holidays are BUSY, no matter your season of life. I put together a playlist to help myself (and maybe you, too!) focus on HOPE as I look toward our celebration of Christ’s birth.

Whether or not you like any of these styles (my music taste is all over the place lol), I pray these lyrics will fill your heart with "strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow" because of our unwavering place in Christ!

Have you ever met someone and wondered “How in the world do they do it?” I have. And I’ve learned that it’s rarely through the sheer force of willpower. (And that, when it is, willpower alone isn't enough to sustain long-term okay-ness.)

We're deeply needy creatures; and our hearts, which drive our behaviors, are shaped by the people we spend time with and what we choose to feed our minds on. Some of the greatest influences on my life have been mind-food recommendations from other people.

Here are a few I’m finding particularly formative right now.

Redeeming Heartache Book

I don’t recall how I was first introduced to the work of the Allender Center, but I will forever be grateful for the influence it’s had on my life.

In May, I attended a conference by the same title as this book, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget the beauty, brokenness, honesty, and hope that weekend held for me. It was hosted by one of the authors of this book, Cathy Loerzel, along with Adam Young, the host of the podcast I’ll discuss next. The book begins with a simple, but easily overlooked reality – we were created for Eden. God fashioned our bodies, brains, and souls to exist in a world without evil and the pain it causes. 

When (not if) we experience the every day disappointments and course-altering tragedies that accompany life outside of Eden, we begin constructing walls around our wounds, trying desperately to prevent the hurt they cause from ever happening again. We feel weak in our sorrow, so we try to outrun it. But our wounds bear witness to an inner orphan, widow, and stranger that are all too familiar with the shatterings that shape our fragile lives.

• “The orphan deeply desires care, rest, and protection. But his harm tells him this is dangerous and unreliable. Something of faith has been shattered through betrayal, causing him to fragment his story in attempts to cover the pain.”

• “The stranger sees all the brokenness and all the potential in the world but has been rendered powerless to bring redemption. Something of hope has been shattered through that powerlessness, and he dissociates to avoid feeling the weight of knowing the truth but being unable to bring it to reality.”

• “The widow/widower has suffered the loss of love, delight, and honor due to death/loss, jealousy, envy, and abuse. Something of love has been shattered through ambivalence, so he isolates, attempting to hide the shame of a deep desire that remains out of reach.”

Jesus Christ walked the earth bearing each of these wounds. He is our High Priest, deeply in tune with the feelings of our pain and weakness (Heb. 4:15). As these wounds heal, they midwife us into our true callings as priests, prophets, and kings/queens with Christ.

• The orphan’s healing comes through attunement – a “putting back together of his story by acknowledging its grief.” Through attunement, the orphan becomes a priest – one called to “retell his own story, offering space for others to grieve, and inviting them into the rituals of life that lead them to wholeness.”

• The stranger’s healing comes through containment – “helping him honor his sight, and the empathy and rage it produces, while holding him in his sorrow.” Through containment, the stranger becomes a prophet, “called to reveal truth and create a holy imagination of what could be.”

• The widow/widower’s healing comes through rupture and repair – "helping them see that connection can be restorative and safe, and that they get to both love and be loved.” Through rupture and repair, the widow/widower becomes a queen/king, called to “order the kingdom and set the table for flourishing and honor.”

Jesus Christ also perfectly embodies the roles of prophet, priest, and king. When we allow Him to redeem us and live through us, we also embody these roles, bringing His presence into the world and giving it a taste of His coming kingdom.

My favorite part of this book was near the end, where the authors addressed how these archetypes provide space for individual human experience – something many personality assessments fail to do. While I’ve personally found some help from both the Enneagram and MBTI specifically, I’ve struggled to accept their universal accuracy for that very reason – they attempt to assign formulaic diagnoses and solutions to the complexity and deeply personal nature of human suffering. The weaknesses of these approaches are addressed and a case presented for integrating them with the orphan, stranger, and widow archetypes for a better understanding of ourselves and others.

If you’re interested in answering the universal question, “Why in the world do I feel/act this way?” from a Christ-centered perspective, this book is for you. It’s gentle, honest, and spectacularly reorienting.

The Place We Find Ourselves Podcast

My introduction to this podcast was through a friend who shared episode 109 – Anxiety: What It Is and How to Respond to It – during a particularly trying time a couple of months ago. I’ve since listened to probably half of the now 115 episodes, and each has altered my perspective on my own story and how I relate to others.

The literal "place we find ourselves" is living in a world that isn’t what it was intended by its Creator to be – one filled with pain, heartache, abuse, trauma, and all kinds of evil. Even the most healed and healthy humans are, at their core, wounded by sin, and they will in some sinful way wound others. We are not God. But we forget that fact daily, causing us to deny our own sinfulness and the sinfulness of those who hurt us.

Young’s methodical, candid analysis of all kinds of hurt and healing offers priceless insight into processing our own pain and living alongside others who are doing the same (hint: that’s literally everyone).

He carefully and simply explains the physiology behind much of our behavior, relieving tired souls of the need to always “get it right,” and offers practical truth that carves out a path to healthy relationships with God, ourselves, and others.

Some of my favorite episodes are listed below. I honestly can’t think of one I haven’t learned a TON from, but these are some I’ve revisited multiple times.

• Episode 35 – Narcissism: What It Is and Why It’s So Toxic

• Episode 38 – Learning to Hear from God

• Episodes 41-47 and 54 – an incredible series on spiritual warfare

• Episode 70 – What’s Actually Happening When You Interact With Someone?

• Episode 72 – Judging Others: Is It Okay to Judge Those Who Have Harmed Me?

• Episode 97 – The Story Your Body Is Telling

• Episode 103 – How to Engage Another Person’s Story

• Episode 109 – Anxiety: What It Is and How To Respond to It

• Episode 115 – Why It’s So Important to Tell Your Story To An Attuned Listener

The Pause App

The Place We Find Ourselves episode 81 featured a guest named John Eldredge. While I’ve not yet read any of his books, I have thoroughly enjoyed using the Pause App, which is inspired by his work. (And is free!!)

Humans, made in the image of God, were created for perfect union with Him. He’s the vine; we’re the branches. We can’t do anything without Him. (John 15) If you’ve been a believer in and follower of Christ for any length of time, you know that’s easier said than lived. Most of us live a strained existence between who we know we are and who we think we should be, or who we want to be. Matthew 11:28-30 calls this way of living weary and heavy-laden, and invites us into the rest of Christ’s easy yoke and light burden.

This app has been a valuable tool for me in regularly reorienting myself to that kind of restful, dependent-on-God existence. It provides beautiful images, music, and meditations for pausing to reflect on Who God is, spend time loving Him, and release my grip on all that concerns me. There are options for anywhere from 1- to 10-minute pauses, for which you can set reminders on your phone.

My favorite program so far has been 30 Days to Resilient, which offers about 10 minutes of meditation each for morning and evening. Pauses include guidance for developing habits that focus my mind on God, prayers to pray, and Scripture to meditate on. (Confession: Sometimes I do the previous night's meditation the next morning. And sometimes I go a couple of days without doing one at all. Because I'm not God; so it's okay for me to not always get it right. And it's very much okay for you, too.)

Have you found any resources particularly helpful to your journey lately? I’d love to hear about them! Click here to drop me a note or leave a comment below.

What feelings do the words “relational tension” evoke in you? If you’re anything like me, not sunshine and smiles. We all have it – with family, friends, coworkers, and even strangers. Dozens of factors – past and present, internal and external – influence the way humans encounter one another.

We bear God’s image, but we aren’t God. So, we don’t have the capacity to show up to relational encounters perfectly – even when our intentions are pure (which, let’s face it, they aren’t always). We do, however, have one God-given capacity that can enrich our lives with fulfilling relationships – the ability to choose.

Choice implies power, responsibility, and ownership.

• I have power over myself – I choose my actions, my reactions, my thoughts, and my words.

• As a believer, I exercise that power by taking responsibility to ensure those actions, reactions, thoughts, and words reflect the heart of the God I claim to know.

• And I take ownership by acknowledging how the actions, reactions, thoughts, and words I choose affect the people with whom I interact (because they do).

The relational choices I make reveal what’s in my heart.

• If my heart is full of love, my choices will demonstrate love.

• If my heart is full of fear, my choices will demonstrate anxiety and perhaps confusion.

• If my heart is full of envy, my choices will demonstrate hate.

• If my heart is full of sadness, my choices will demonstrate melancholy or perhaps hopelessness.

Feelings are indicators, revealing what we value. They’re complex, God-given, Jesus-modeled, and Holy Spirit-understood. We can’t control how or when they arise. But we can control how we respond to our own feelings and to the effect other people’s feelings-driven behavior has on us. How we choose to respond will determine the depth of our relationships.

The Core Choice: Contribute or Consume?

Most relational choices we make will stem from one of two heart postures – contributor or consumer. I’ve pondered that contrast many times since a friend pointed it out to me. I shared a relational issue I was experiencing, and she gently indicated I might be showing up as a consumer rather than a contributor. I knew what I wanted, and I wasn’t getting it. And I was frustrated. Sound familiar? It should. James says that’s where all conflict is born – when our desires collide with the desires of another. (James 4:1)

Does that mean we aren’t allowed to have any desires in favor of our own good? Definitely not. But when two wills collide and conflict ensues, often both parties are allowing their own (sometimes even good and God-given) desires instead of the Holy Spirit to run the show. In that moment, we have a choice. Will we show up as contributors or as consumers in this contest of wills?

Definitions

I love words. Like LOVE words. When I’m going to use one to develop a life principle for myself, I want to understand it thoroughly. Here’s what I discovered about the words consumer and contributor.

(If you just want to know how the words apply to our relationships, feel free to skip this section. For all the word nerds…it’s about to get real.)

Both words begin with the Latin prefix con, which means either “with” or “thoroughly,” depending on context.

• With acts as a joiner, as in the word connect, meaning, “join with.”

• Thoroughly acts as an intensive, as in the word conclude, meaning, “thoroughly close a matter.”

Contribute and consume each employ a different meaning of the prefix “con.”

Contributer (con = with)

Suffix (Latin) – tribuere: bestow

• In the mid 14^th century, it denoted a stated sum of money or other valuable consideration given from one country to another to acknowledge submission or as the price for peace/protection.

• The sense of it being a gift, offering, or token was first used in 1580 and is how we continue to use it today.

Literal definition: bestow with
Connotative definition: n. – a person who supplies something he possesses (time, resources, money, energy) or gives himself for the purpose of influencing an outcome

Consumer (con = thoroughly)

Suffix (Latin) – sumere: take up

• In the early 15^th century, denoted a person who squanders or wastes.

• In 1745, began to be used economically to denote a person who uses up goods or articles, or who destroys the exchangeable value of a commodity by using it.

• Ecologically, used to describe an organism that feeds on other organisms.

Literal definition: thoroughly take up
Connotative definition: n. - a person who thoroughly takes or uses something (time, resources, money, energy) or someone as a means to achieve an outcome

So, where does that leave us?

Now that we’ve set the stage for contributing to be primarily good and consuming to be primarily bad, I’d like to question that in the context of relationships.

Consuming can be negative, but is it always? Contributing can be positive, but is it always? And which is the better choice when relational conflict is staring us in the face?

First, we must consume.

Yep, you read that right. Consuming is where we must begin. We’re needy creatures – far more fragile and vulnerable than any of us would like to admit. I mean, the first human started as literal dirt and had to have even the breath of life given to him by Someone outside himself (Genesis 2:7).

It’s in our nature to consume because we can’t exist without outside interference. We were designed for dependence on God and interdependence on each other (Gen. 2:18). Here are a few invitations God extends for us to be consumers:

• He invites us to taste His goodness (Ps. 34:8)

• He satisfies our longing souls and fills our hungry souls with goodness (Ps. 107:9)

• He offers every resource we could need so that we might partake of His divine nature (2 Peter 1:3-4)

• Jesus called those who hunger and thirst after righteousness blessed, and promised to fill that desire (Matt. 5:6)

Consuming isn’t wrong. It’s a core part of who we are, and, when we go to God as our source, we can be “filled with all His fullness” (Eph. 3:19).

We go wrong when we seek to consume things that have limits (James 4:1-3). When we look anywhere other than God to satisfy our desires, we end up consuming one another. This isn't something we can outgrow. From the beginning of time, Satan has strategically targeted our dependence on God and interdependence on each other, tempting us to look everywhere but Him for satisfaction and to turn on each other when our efforts fail (Gen. 3:1-13).

If we’re going to be healthy consumers, we must acknowledge our deep neediness and, in so doing, turn to the One Who alone can satisfy completely. His resources have no limits. And only in drinking deeply of HIS fullness are we saved from greedily consuming one another.

Then, we can contribute in a healthy way.

Most anyone who’s received biblical training has a sense that believers in Jesus are called to be contributors. Jesus Himself forsook His heavenly throne to contribute His life, death, resurrection, and ascension as a means for all people to have a redeemed past, meaningful present, and secure future.

Throughout Scripture, we see calls to contribution:

• Paul reminds us that it is more blessed to give than to receive (Acts 20:35).

• Jesus called those who would follow Him to lose (literally, destroy) their lives for His sake and the gospel’s (Mat. 10:39).

• We’re to be emotionally available to others – rejoicing with them that rejoice and weeping with them that weep (Rom. 12:15).

• Solomon exhorts us to use our God-given power to bring good to others, not delaying or withholding it (Prov. 3:27-28).

Contributing isn’t wrong. In fact, it’s something we’re called to do as imitators of Christ, Who demonstrated His love by allowing Himself to be stripped of all power and put to death by beings He created (Rom. 5:8). But He did so for one reason – obedience to God, which flowed from a deep fullness he experienced in relationship with God. He knew Who He was and Who He wasn’t, and He knew His purpose in the world (John 4:34).

We go wrong in contributing when we attempt do so without first drinking deeply of the resources God offers us in Christ through the power of Holy Spirit. We become dangerous contributors when we contribute from a place of emptiness, making twisted attempts to fill a need, rather than from a place of fullness, pouring out because we already have all we need and sincerely desire to bring good to others, regardless of reciprocation or response.

Contributing as a means of earning love, attention, or praise is not contributing at all. It’s a sneaky form of consuming that leads us to manipulate others, often self-righteously. None of us is immune to it. Only One man walked the earth without ever doing it, although He felt the same things we feel which drive us to it (Heb. 4:15). His grace is readily available to us in our times of need, and He invites us to boldly enter His presence and request it (Heb. 4:16). In doing so, we are enabled to contribute in healthy ways.

The Power of the Choice

Our wills produce words and actions that work together to shape our relationships. When conflicts arise, it’s easy to look outside ourselves to find something or someone to blame. But the Truth is, as adults, we have the power to choose those words and actions. And what we choose reveals what’s in our hearts.

Each of us will respond to others in unhealthy ways at times. And each of us will be on the receiving end of unhealthy responses. When we find ourselves in these situations, we’ll discover what’s in our hearts – fear, anger, envy, etc. These discoveries afford precious opportunities to run to the throne of grace, express our neediness to God, and obtain the mercy and grace that fill us with His love, which can powerfully influence our words and actions no matter how we feel. That may look like asking forgiveness, or it may look like candid confrontation in effort to preserve an important relationship. But love tells the truth in a humble spirit - whether or not that truth makes us look good.

The alternative response is hardening our hearts toward God and others – an act of pride and ego which causes God to resist us (1 Peter 5:5) and creates distance in our relationships. His grace is available to the humble, and He is near the brokenhearted (1 Peter 5:5; Ps. 34:18).

The choice is ours.

For more on the topic of how our response to our feelings shapes the landscape of our relationships with God and others, I highly (like 30,000 feet high…at least) recommend Untangling Emotions by J. Alasdair Groves and Winston T. Smith and Good and Angry: Redeeming Anger, Irritation, Complaining, and Bitterness by David Powlison.

The discretion of a man deferreth his anger, and it is his glory to pass over a transgression.

Proverbs 19:11

Choosing to love people means giving them the power to wound us. Allowing ourselves to be loved does the same. It’s far from logical. It’s vulnerable, honest, open, and sometimes scary. It’s the most thrilling, powerful risk a human being can take. 

And sometimes risks go wrong. We live in a fallen world full of people with desperately wicked, deceitful hearts (Jer. 17:9) Before you turn away from the mirror, yes, I’m talking about us church people, too. We dress up so well. We know the words to say, the songs to sing, the right time to amen…and we too quickly forget that if we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us (1 Jn. 1:8). 

The truth is, we hurt each other - sometimes on purpose, sometimes because of personal pain, sometimes because we’re careless, and sometimes completely unintentionally. But the fact is, hurt happens. And it’s not ok. It reminds us daily that the place we live isn’t home. The place we live is cursed. We groan within ourselves, waiting for our bodies to be redeemed, waiting for our hearts to no longer feel pain (Rom. 8:23).

And in our groaning, in all the not-ok hurt that touches every human life, we have the power to choose. We can choose to pick up the hurt, focus on all the pain it causes, carry it close to us, and let it cripple our souls. OR…we can take it to the throne of grace, humbly admit to God how deeply it’s affecting us, acknowledge any bitterness, anger, or wrath with which we’re responding, and let Him hold it, for it is too heavy for our fragile hands.

Satan wants us to believe we have no power when we’re wounded, but that’s a lie. Two hands exist which were wounded once for all the pain the world would ever experience. They retain the scars God could have removed, proving they are strong enough to hold our hurt. And when they do, we are free to love again, to both offer and receive grace, and to live full, healthy lives of childlike faith and wonder.

Hurt happens to us. Staying offended is a choice we make. There is healing and freedom at the throne of grace.