I’m a bad evangelist.

It’s not my strength or my spiritual gift. It’s not that I don’t care about telling others about Jesus. I actually care a lot—which is maybe part of the problem.

I Was Once A Superstar Evangelist

I went to public school up until college and used to be super outward about my faith. I even had a YouTube channel in the 6th grade where I talked about God and then I’d go to school and write the name of my channel on everyone’s hands so they could look it up when they got home (which was kind of rude and it didn’t really work.)

My grandma once bragged about me to one of our family members saying, “this kid can evangelize anybody!” I don’t think that was true but thanks grandma.

I had a car in high school and a lot of people in my classes or on my cross country team would ask for rides. My little red Saturn became a church. It was my platform, my ministry. I baptized four of my friends before I graduated and most people weren’t surprised to hear I was going to be a pastor.

As the high school years grew smaller in the proverbial rearview mirror, my confidence in sharing my faith went with it. But the pressure to do so only got bigger.

Too Much Pressure

I went to college for ministry and was surrounded by Christians 95% of the time. So the few moments I spent with people who weren’t following Jesus carried a lot of extra weight. I had more voluminous hair back then and was obsessive about getting a good haircut. I found an excellent barbershop where all the guys cussed, smoked, and were covered head to toe in tattoos. At the time, I thought I’d found an obvious mission field.

Once a month for years, I’d sit in the barber chair and overthink every word that came out of my mouth. I’d get nervous walking into the shop and then feel ashamed walking out because I didn’t say anything Jesusy enough.

I wanted so bad to make Jesus sound cool, interesting and unoffensive. I wanted to have the right arguments, the right facts, the exact right sentences to respond to someone’s doubts. It was just too much. So I eventually stopped trying so hard and mostly kept Jesus to myself.

Jesus’s Tool for Sharing Your Faith

Jesus got out of the boat with his disciples and barely touched land before this crazy dude comes running up to him. The man was clearly possessed by a demon so Jesus rolls up his sleeves and gets ready to do his thing. Turns out the man has a whole legion of demons inside of him causing him to cut himself, run around naked, and sleep in tombs.

After Jesus freed the man from demonic oppression, his renewed self was ready to hop in that boat and go with his liberator. And to be fair, I’m sure he didn’t want to show his face around home anymore. There’s a solid chance his reputation was destroyed and it’s doubtful he’d get a warm welcome from anyone.

Jesus didn’t let him come. Instead he said, “Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” (Mark 5:19 NIV)

I can’t help but notice how Jesus didn’t follow this up with, “ope— wait, you’re going to need to go to Bible college first.” He didn’t teach him how to write a three-point sermon sharing the Gospel. He didn’t give him any apologetics books, tips on winning debates, or a list of words not to say. Jesus wasn’t even worried about making sure he had all the evidence he needed to convince people that God is real.

Jesus also wasn’t worried about the man winning people over. Literally moments before this, a whole group of people who had just witnessed what Jesus did rejected him. I don’t think the Son of God was worried about looking cool or unoffensive but seemed to be pretty okay with being misunderstood.

Jesus simply changed the man’s life and said, go tell them how much the Lord has done for you.

As if that would be enough.

William Barclay wrote that, “the unanswerable proof of Christianity is a re-created man.”

We don’t always need to memorize facts, evidence, or answers when we can simply tell our story and show people by the way we walk, talk, live, and love others that Jesus has transformed us from the inside out.

Your Story Matters

Andrew Peterson wrote in his book, Adorning the Dark, “You know and understand things about the heart of God that only you can teach.” He wrote later that “…your story, your insight, your revelation of God’s heart, is something the rest of us need.”

If you’re a follower of Jesus, you have encountered his mercy. Your experience is unique and the way you share that experience is going to be unique. And you have no idea if there’s someone out there who needs to hear the good news of Jesus from your perspective in a way that only you can tell them.

I don’t say that to add pressure — there’s no need for pressure because God’s grace is plenty big enough for us. I say that so that you can have confidence that your story matters.

Whether your story is a wild and momentous 180-degree life change like the man in Mark 5 or a gradual turn towards Jesus after many years of coasting on a lukewarm faith, your story matters.

The former demon-possessed man shared his story across ten cities and Mark tells us that the people were amazed.

The stories of our encounters with Jesus have impact.

The Phlebotomist

During my recent paternity leave, my morning devotional led me in a prayer for God to open doors to share the Gospel each day. I prayed that prayer not thinking much of it and then forgot.

Then we took our daughter, Juniper, to her first doctor’s appointment where the doctor asked, “How did you come up with her name?”

Juniper’s name comes from 1 Kings 19 and is symbolic of the way the Lord provided for us in our season of suffering when our first daughter passed away. But I felt that familiar pressure when the doctor asked her question and I just didn’t want to make things weird. So I said, “She’s named after a tree in the Bible.” And that’s all.

After leaving the appointment, I realized what had happened. I prayed for an open door, got one, and then totally missed it.

We left with a lab order to take next door where I met the nicest pediatric phlebotomist. While she was draining blood from my baby’s foot into these teeny little tubes, she asked me, “Where does her name come from?”

So I took a deep breath in, and internally prayed, “Holy Spirit give me words!” Then I just told her the story of how much the Lord had done for my wife and I. How he came near in our suffering and provided hope when there wasn’t any.

And when I left I realized that wasn’t so hard at all. There’s a difference between telling someone a story of something that happened to you and entering a conversation with the sole purpose of winning someone over. That was the most confident I had felt sharing Jesus in years and it started with my answer to this simple question…

What Has the Lord Done For You?

Powerful faith conversations can spring from sharing your answers to this.

I don’t think it needs to be long or complicated. You don’t need to quote any scripture, draw any diagrams, or even mention the words heaven or hell. You don’t have to cover every aspect of the Gospel either. Perhaps sharing one little moment of mercy at a time is enough.

With Jesus, your story can help free someone from evil’s oppression. It could bring light to the dark season they’re living in. When they have found themselves living among the dead, God just might use your story to give them life.

So give it a shot. Write up a short version of your story. Maybe it’s short enough to fit into the comments on this post—I’d love to read it.

Then pray for an open door.

I recently preached on this topic at my church. You can watch the full sermon here if you’re interested!

You asked me to take off my pastor hat to answer this question, and I’m not sure I did a good job of that. I think you wanted me to answer this question as a fellow follower of Jesus instead of firing off preacher principles. So, I’m going to attempt a more helpful response to your question: How do I bring God in on big decisions?

This is what works for me, definitely not a one-size-fits-all prescription. You will go through your own process of discovering what works but hopefully this gives you a good place to start.

Praying Through the Options

I first get out my little journal, open it up to a blank page, and list out all of the options that I’m weighing. Each gets its own line with plenty of space to breathe between them. Then I sit down somewhere, alone with God, and pray through them one by one.

It can be helpful to try to imagine how life might look on the other end of that decision:

• Would I be using the gifts God gave me?

• Would it be easier to serve the Kingdom or more difficult?

• Does this feel like it would honor God?

I try to pay attention to my feelings as I do this too.

• Does it feel chaotic or peaceful?

• Am I feeling forced into something or gently invited?

• Do I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, or do I feel excited?

The reason I pay attention to those particular feelings is because God doesn’t force or bully us into the right decision. His voice is gentle and invitational. I can sometimes identify the voice of God through feelings like peace and excitement. Those aren’t end-all be-all signs that God is speaking but can be helpful indicators.

The Spirit of God unfailingly produces peace in our souls, and the devil unfailingly produces agitation.

Jacques Philippe In the School of the Holy Spirit

When I prayed through the decision to become a foster parent, I went in to that prayer session knowing what I wanted: to not become a foster parent. By the end of the prayer, I felt excitement for fostering rise up in me. I tend to think that if I’m excited about something I dreaded only a few moments ago, then that must be miraculous enough to be the Holy Spirit.

It also helps to get honest about my own feelings surrounding big decisions. Once I’ve done that, it helps me focus more on getting honest about where God may be leading me. What I want matters, it just doesn’t get the final say.

Listening Throughout the Day

Most often, when I pray through the options, I get nothing in response. At least not right away— which is disappointing. But I’ve found it’s best to then just get on with my day.

I might go for a run, work on a project, cut the grass, or grab coffee with a friend. Often it’s in the most mundane, non-spiritual activities that the Lord whispers his will.

This idea came from Dallas Willard in his book, Hearing God:

Personally I find it works best if after I ask for God to speak to me in this way, I devote the next hour or so to some kind of activity that neither engrosses my attention with other things nor allows me to be intensely focused on the matter in question. Housework, gardening, driving about on errands or paying bills will generally do.

I tend to overcomplicate the decision making process, spinning and spinning on all sorts of thoughts and questions that I think I need to resolve in order to make the right decision. There’s something to thinking things through. But there’s also something to thinking for a little bit and then not letting yourself think anymore.

Talking to Your Wisest People

The Bible talks about seeking wise counsel and encourages us not to rely on our own wisdom.

However, it can be tempting to poll everyone in life and get their take on the situation. It feels like that would be the safest move, right? But that leads to way too many cooks in the kitchen and that’s just overwhelming. I now try to limit myself to feedback from only a select few that I trust the most— people with the same vision for their lives as I have for mine. Imperfect people who want God’s will above all else. Right now, that’s my wife, my best friend, and my parents.

Coping With Silence

I once stood at a crossroads, staring down two paths that seemed equally holy. It was an extremely difficult career decision.

“God where do you want me to go?” I asked daily and received no answer. It got more and more frustrating to have no clarity as each day passed. Eventually, I found myself on the roof of my church— thinking that if I got myself a bit closer to heaven I might hear better— crying out to him, flipping pages in my Bible, hoping something would miraculously jump out of it and point me in the right direction.

On my knees, defeated and scared, the wind took hold of the pages of the open Bible in front of me. I looked down to discover Psalm 131. It was the tiniest chapter of scripture I’d ever seen.

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high;

I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me.

But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother;

like a weaned child is my soul within me.

O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore.

Psalm‬ ‭131‬ ESV‬‬

On the rooftop that day, the Lord gently invited me to release control. To stop trying to perfectly predict every possible outcome of this decision. I realized my eyes were raised too high, trying to look over my life at a level that only God can. This Psalm was urging me to quiet my soul and put my hope in the Lord, not in my ability to make the right decision.

I learned that day to accept God’s silence as an opportunity to choose whichever path seems the most beneficial for his Kingdom; and if there wasn’t one, I had the freedom to choose whatever sounded best to me.

Resting in His Grace

Sometimes bringing God in on a decision is simply giving him the chance to weigh in. It may not lead to grand revelations or moments of clarity. But I know that when we are faithful enough to ask him for his direction, he will certainly be gracious to us when we get it wrong. A good friend once told me, “You’re not strong enough to screw up God’s plan.”

The fact that you’re asking this question tells me you are seeking God’s will for your life. So keep doing that! You will do it imperfectly, as any human will. Do your best and give God the rest.

You got this!

Your youth pastor,

Will

I love a good plan.

There are countless notes in my phone labeled “tomorrow,” “game plan,” or “schedule,” where I have jotted down everything I want to do or accomplish the following day and when exactly it’s going to happen.

I don’t always follow these plans exactly, but just the feeling of constructing my own day makes me feel like I’m in control, therefore safe.

Now with a 7 week old, pretty much any plan is a pipe dream. That grates on me a bit. Things can feel overwhelming fast because I’ve lost the reins on my own time.

I’m tending to a tiny, imperfect, unbridled, beautiful, and loud infant. Which means when I’d normally be working on a writing project, I’m wiping up poop. When I’d like to be reading a book, I’m bouncing up and down, going “sh sh shhhh sh sh shhhh” for the fourteenth time that day until my mouth is dry.

It’s been kind of motivating to think of each interruption as an opportunity to show my daughter that she is loved. We get the privilege to build into her from a young age that when she’s helpless and in need, she’s safe and supported.

Better my daughter feel safe because of my availability than I feel safe by being the master of my time.

This has actually been quite freeing. There isn’t time to overthink a schedule or plan. I just wake up each day with one priority: be Junie’s dad.

2. She’s Just a Baby

Sometimes Juniper will cry for absolutely no discernible reason. The binky gets spit out, she won’t take any food, and she won’t fall asleep either. It’s enough to make you want to jump through a screen door.

Yet, oddly, I have found the frustration is mostly fleeting even when the circumstance is not.

It might be because of our current motto. Rachel and I keep saying, “she’s just a baby,” reminding each other that she may not understand why she’s crying either. For Juniper, when something doesn’t feel right, she has one way to let us know. She only has so many tools for navigating this big world.

There are plenty of nights when she wakes us up crying after being fed only an hour ago and the first thing out of my mouth is “WHAT THE FREAKIN HECK?”

Then I remember she’s just a baby. No matter how frustrating it may be, I always come back to loving her and being excited that she’s here and that she’s mine.

3. A Soul Carries Weight

I’ve been surprised by how many times I’ve gone to say Juniper’s name but Ariana starts to slip out.

We never imagined there would be any way we could mix up our two daughters.

I fully expected Juniper to feel like our first child rather than our second. After all, we’d get so many first time experiences with her that we never did Ariana. We didn’t really get to care for Ariana as our daughter once she was born. Yet, from the moment we entered the hospital for delivery up until now, for reasons I can’t really describe, Junie has simply felt like our second born.

There was an experiment done over a hundred years ago where this doctor kept near-death patients on a scale, measuring weight changes as they passed away. One of his subjects lost 21 grams at the very moment the soul left the body. So, the doctor speculated: a soul must weigh 21 grams.

You might say that isn’t a lot. But for something completely immaterial, 21 grams is pretty significant.

At Junie’s one month appointment, her doctor looked at me holding her and said, “There are two things that last forever. God’s word, and the soul you are holding in your hands that God created through you.”

To think I wasn’t just holding a baby that was a product of biology, but an eternal creation, is a trippy thought. It reminds me that Rachel and I have been part of the creation of two souls. Despite the fact we never changed Ariana’s diaper, shushed her, or gave her a bath, we’re reminded that she is a whole person, an eternal being, not just living on in our hearts but living on in the Kingdom of God.

Maybe the reason Junie inexplicably feels like our second child is because she is. Ariana, while she lived mere seconds on this earth, has a soul and personhood that carry a tangible weight. A weight that is heavier than we expected it to be. I wouldn’t want to carry anything less.

It’s pretty cool the way we have chances to grow in the likeness of Christ in the most ordinary seasons of life.

Jesus was highly interruptible, often shifting plans for the poor, sick, and afflicted, whom he saw with patient and compassionate eyes, as eternal beings made in his Father’s image.

Ronald Rolheiser writes,

Parenting, in the end, is the most natural path to holiness and maturity, what often feels like a compulsory commitment, and takes us where we would often rather not go.

Parenting reshapes the core of your being to help you love more like God loves.

Domestic Monastery

This is a new stage in the parenting journey for me. After being a foster dad, then a loss dad, I finally get to be a dad dad, I guess you could say. I’ll surely screw it up a time or two… but I pray that each day of it, by God’s grace, will make me a little more like Jesus.

In the midst of all of that, it can feel like God is contained to the more religious corners of your life instead of being present with you in all of your weighty responsibilities.

A lot of us want to know: where is God leading me? What would he have me do here?

But God feels distant and quiet. Perhaps drowned out by chaos, anxiety, or unexplained difficulty.

The truth is that God didn’t go anywhere… but maybe we’ve fallen asleep instead of keeping watch.

The Time I Failed to Keep Watch

Marshall lives with my wife and I. One night, we heard him making all kinds of strange noises from the other room.

“Marshall, are you alright?” I called out to him.

Suddenly I saw him sprint from the bathroom straight into the bedroom. He jumped on the bed, then off of it. Then he went back into the bathroom, leaped into the tub, scraping the bottom of it with his claws. (Sorry, I should have told you earlier that Marshall is our cat.)

Marshall had a version of the zoomies I’d never seen before, zooming back and forth from bed to bathtub.

Marshall was on the bed doing his digging motion when he froze. Then his back began to make an arch, his ears flattened, and Rachel and I just looked at each other.

“Is he about to…?”

“No, there’s no way he would—“

And that’s the story of the time Marshall pooped in our bed.

Confession time: I’m not the world’s best cat dad. I hate cleaning out the litter box and I am NOT diligent about it. I realized at that moment that I’d completely forgotten to clean out the litter box for many days.

It was my fault Marshall pooped in the bed. His litter box was too disgusting for him to be able to use so in a panic, he found something else.1

The litter boxes are the easiest chore in our house to ignore. They’re tucked away in the corner of our unfinished basement. I can go days without thinking about them if I wanted to, pretending that everything is alright — but it isn’t. The litter boxes don’t stop being real just because I choose not to see them. And when I choose not to see them, I’m putting my cat’s health at risk.

By not keeping watch over the cat litter, I failed to care for my cat.

The Responsibility of Spiritual Awareness

Keeping watch is a responsibility we’re given as members of Christ’s body. The Apostle Paul says this to the elders of the Ephesian church:

Keep watch over yourselves and all the flock of which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers. Be shepherds of the church of God, which he bought with his own blood.

Acts‬ ‭20‬:‭28‬ ‭NIV‬‬

You may not be an elder of a church but the Holy Spirit has made you an overseer of something. There is someone or something that God has entrusted to your care that you are responsible for leading. If nothing else, you have yourself. And when something is entrusted to your care, it’s your job to shepherd it, looking out for its safety and well being.

Paul also says to the same church in Ephesians chapter 6:

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

Ephesians 6:12 NIV

So we see that keeping watch isn’t just about the physical realm but also the spiritual realm.

Then later…

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.

Ephesians 6:18 NIV

Prayer and watchfulness go hand in hand and are crucial responses to a world under the influence of evil. Prayer is far from passive. It’s an act of protection and vigilance over what has been entrusted to us.

You can read my previous post on watchfulness here:

Three Reasons to Be Watchful

Keeping Watch Over Yourself

We often understand this on a physical level. If we start getting that familiar scratchiness in our throat, even if we aren’t even sick yet, we might increase our vitamin C intake, hydrate, or stock up on cold medicine. But if there’s an issue on the spiritual level, we often don’t act until it’s already escalated into something bigger and more difficult to get a handle on.

Keeping watch over yourself could mean paying attention to things like:

• When the enemy is slowly weaving lies into your thought patterns.

• When you’re facing a health issue that is physical but it leaves your heart and soul vulnerable.

• When you’re drawn towards isolation instead of community in the midst of suffering because you believe the lie that others don’t need to be burdened with your problems.

The devil likes to work inconspicuously but when we’re watchful we are more likely to catch on to what he’s up to.

It’s not just about what we are keeping watch against but paying attention to subtle invitations from the Lord.

• That temptation is an invitation to a small victory.

• Your health struggles may be an invitation to cling to God in a new way.

• God may be inviting you to share something difficult with your small group so that you can have richer, more authentic community.

Keeping Watch Over Your Flock

Who or what has the Lord entrusted to your care or sphere of influence? If you’re a parent, that’s your kids. If you’re a small group leader, it’s the members of your group. If you’re a manager, it’s your employees. If you have someone you are mentoring, that person is your flock!

I have two flocks I think about most often. My family and the youth ministry at our church. These are the two areas of my life I have the most influence and where others rely on my leadership and care the most.

I am learning how to be more watchful in these areas. The temptation is to keep leading people how I think they need to be led without letting the Lord speak into it. After all, he knows my sheep far better than I do.

Two Things to Try

Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.

Colossians‬ ‭4‬:‭2‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Paul links watchfulness and prayer. Here are a couple of ways to practice watchfulness through prayer:

1. Listening Prayer

I just took our high school students to a summer conference. Throughout the week, the adult leaders and I paid close attention to our students, making sure they were fed and accounted for. Paying attention to their physical circumstances was an obvious responsibility. But as shepherds of this flock, we also had to be intentional to stay attuned to the spiritual realities of each of our sheep.

One morning, after a long meeting going through details of the day, we circled up as shepherds and stood in silence for a few minutes. We asked God to speak and to lay a particular student on each of our hearts. Immediately a student came to mind and I felt a nudge towards having a difficult conversation with him. I made time to follow up and the student ended up confessing a sin problem and I was able to speak life into him in a moment of vulnerability.

This kind of thing doesn’t come naturally at a busy week of camp so we had to carve out space for it. I’d bet it doesn’t come naturally in your life either.

Let there be empty spaces. With the amount of content we have access to, it can be tempting to fill every silence with something. The problem with this is that every time a pocket of quiet appears, it’s immediately filled with distraction instead of being filled with God.

Create some intentional spaces of listening throughout your day. You can start with a simple prayer from 1 Samuel: “Speak Lord, your servant hears.”

Then just wait. Do your very best to keep your mind clear by focusing on your breath, your footsteps, or the feeling of the desk in front of you. If something comes to mind, consider that it could be the Holy Spirit. Over time, you will get better at discerning what are your own ideas and what are directions from God.

You won’t always have something come to mind, and that’s okay!

2. Take Notes

I’ve started making this chart in my journal and updating it every few weeks. Something like this could be a great way to keep a pulse on the different areas of your life.

Write down anything you notice. It may not seem all that significant but that could very well be the Spirit getting your attention.

A Warning Against Hyper-Vigilance

There’s a fine line between vigilance and hyper-vigilance. Between paying attention and obsessing over every possible threat or possible invitation, constantly worrying about missing something. As a person with anxious tendencies, this is a line I’ve crossed many times.

Watchfulness will sometimes require us to take action but if we find ourselves using it as a way to try and control things we have no business controlling, then we’ve crossed that line.

If we find ourselves looking for something spiritual underneath every little moment of our day and attempting to analyze it, I think we’ve crossed into less helpful and potentially dangerous territory.

Annnd Finally…. a Final Note

Watchfulness will grate against your desires.

Look at the disciples in the garden.2 Their flesh kept giving in to sleep when their Lord was calling them to watchfulness. Keeping watch requires strength and discipline. As Jesus said, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

When the Lord asks us to keep watch over our flocks, the temptation will be to minimize the things we see, distract ourselves, or choose to ignore potential problems because we’d rather not deal with them right now.

But if you want my advice, it’s better to pay attention to the litter box before the cat poops in your bed.3

I made my coffee while she took a shower and finished packing up. Once I loaded everything into the car, we backed out of our driveway and onto the quiet street. It was still dark. There was so much day left to be had. And this was going to be a pretty big day.

It started feeling surreal when we got to the hospital. We parked in the yellow lot, had security check our bags, and started down that familiar hallway. None of it was new. We’d gone through this routine before not even two years ago when our first daughter was born and it was hard to believe we were already here doing it again.

The difference was that the last time Rachel carried her pregnant belly into Riverside hospital for a scheduled c-section, it was to say goodbye. We left that same hospital three days later with a few vases of flowers instead of a baby.

…

These last four years have led us down some dark, difficult, and unpredictable paths. Starting in August of 2022, our foster daughter who we had for almost a year was taken from us with less than a day’s notice after we were told we’d almost certainly adopt her. Following that was a long struggle with infertility. And once Rachel was finally pregnant, the 20 week ultrasound revealed that our child had a lethal condition and wouldn’t make it past her birthday.

The best word to describe the last few years of our lives would be wilderness.

The wilderness shows up all over the Bible. One of my favorite wilderness stories is that of the prophet Elijah.

Elijah1 receives word that his life is in danger and feels like everyone who he is trying to serve is turning against him. So he runs into the wilderness. He is alone, scared, and feeling like a failure. Elijah is struggling to see any way out. So he collapses under a tree and says to God, “I just want to die.”

We too had our fair share of doubt over whether or not we will have what it takes to make it through our wilderness. There have been plenty of hopeless moments just like Elijah’s. There were many times I cried out to God in anger and defeat wondering why he felt so far away, why he wasn’t listening to my prayers, why he wasn’t helping me in what seemed like simple ways.

But that’s not the only part of the story.

…

Once Elijah admitted defeat, he fell asleep under the tree. After a good nap, he’s awoken by a stranger— an angel— who tells him to get up and eat. Elijah looks beside him and food and water has miraculously appeared! He eats his fill and drifts back to sleep. The angel wakes him up again, “arise and eat!” Another nap and another meal.

The angel sends him with a newfound strength on a journey deeper into the wilderness until he enters a cave. It’s there at that cave that Elijah has an encounter with the Lord where he is provided with enough hope to keep going.

Just like with Elijah, God strengthened us when we were at our weakest. He gave us joy when it didn’t make sense. He provided hope when all we could see was darkness.

I love the image of Elijah under that tree, sitting under its shady branches like the Lord’s arms of protection hovering above. The cover of the tree created a place where Elijah was simply shown the grace and mercy of God. The Lord didn’t ask him to pull it together and get back out there. He let him rest. He fed him. He nourished him. He provided for Elijah when the weary prophet couldn’t provide for himself.

Most translations call this the broom tree or the broom bush. This tree is also known as a juniper.

When Juniper was born it took her like 20 seconds to cry— which felt more like 20 minutes. Since it was a c-section, she was hidden from Rachel and I on the other end of a curtain so all we could do was anxiously wait for reassurance.

Then we heard it.

We heard life.

The doctor finally held her up so we could see her. Her skin was a purply color, her eyes were open and her brow furrowed as she met her parents for the first time. Her face told me that life outside the womb may be an acquired taste.

It was so overwhelming that it didn’t feel real. Whose baby is that? I kept asking myself.

They carried Junie over to the warmer where they would clean her up a bit and get her vitals. The nurse invited me over. My daughter lay there, naked and crying while the nurse had to manipulate her a dozen different ways. I just watched in awe, still holding my breath and praying that everything was as it should be.

She screamed and she cried and my heart shattered repeatedly. It took me a minute to realize I wasn’t just there as an observer, I’m her dad! So I reached out my hand and laid it on her chest and her stomach. I told her she was okay and that I loved her and that I was so happy to see her.

It was beginning to slowly sink in just how far we’ve come. We’ve made it through to the other side of the wilderness.2

I believe there’s only one way that was possible.

…

The Lord provides in the wilderness. That’s what the juniper tree represents to us.

It represents his presence when things are going great and when things are really, really hard. It represents the safety and love we can find when we run to the Lord and rest under the shadow of his presence.

Our prayer for our daughter is that she would grow up to know and trust in God’s provision for her through all circumstances. And that trust would nourish the roots of a faith that will grow strong and mighty. I want her to hear stories of how God did this for her mom and her dad and that he will do it for her too.

…

Giving us a living baby isn’t God’s way of finally coming through for us. No, he’s done that well before now. He was faithful in the thick of the darkness, just as much as he is faithful in the light.

My least favorite caption for social media birth announcements is: “God is faithful!” So I’m not going to leave it at that.

As we were struggling with the loss of our daughter, Ariana, I would see those posts and think, “if God is faithful in giving you a baby, does that mean God isn’t faithful to us?” I think we’re on a slippery slope if we believe God giving us what we want = faithfulness. No matter how honorable or righteous that desire may be.

True faithfulness is God holding to his promises and never abandoning us even when we don’t get what we want. Even when life hurts like hell.

Our child is a blessing provided by a loving and faithful God. But if we treated our living daughter as proof of that faithfulness then we’d be severely minimizing God’s faithfulness to us when our first daughter passed away. Both Ariana and Juniper are marks of God’s faithfulness and provision to us.

I’ve learned through all of this that God’s provision isn’t always what I expect it to be. Sometimes his provision seems like less, like God is holding out on me. But it wasn’t until I reached the worst of the wilderness that I was able to see the beautiful things God can do there.

Juniper,

I pray that you will know that your God will always give you what you need even when he doesn’t give you what you want.

I pray you will always find strength and hope in Him through every season of your life.

I pray that you will become strong and mighty because you trust in a strong and mighty God.

May your faith be fiery, your passion never be dulled, and your joy always be full. For in his presence, there is fullness of joy.

You are a treasure to me and I can’t wait to keep being your dad.

P.S. I know it it may be hard to read this if you still feel like you’re in the middle of your wilderness. There’s nothing like reading stories of other’s blessing when you’re still desperate for your own. I could see how you might wonder, why would God do this for you and not for me?

It’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to carry those doubts and questions for right now. God’s grace is big enough for your struggle.

I hope you can borrow some hope from our story today, even just for a moment. In some way, shape, or form, God will reveal his faithfulness to you. Hang in there.

If it’s helpful, I’ve written a couple of other posts about the wilderness here.

You may think of them as a tiny little devil on one shoulder and an angel on another, each of them pushing you in a different direction. One towards a blatant sin and the other to good deeds. That’s not a totally unhelpful image, I guess, but scripture offers a different one.

The Bible talks about the Good Shepherd and the prowling lion. The voice of God and the voice of the enemy.

They don’t annoyingly yap in your ear begging you to choose good or evil. They’re often more subtle than two miniature Kronks. However, they’re certainly two distinct voices with two distinct goals for your life.

Maybe you have a decent sense of how God speaks in your life. Or maybe you long to hear him but you just don’t. You may struggle to differentiate between the voice of God and the voice of the enemy. Or you may be doubtful that either of them are speaking at all.

Discerning between these two spiritual influences in your life can be really difficult. But I do think we’ve made it harder on ourselves by overlooking a spiritual habit that we see throughout the Bible.

Sleepy Disciples

One of my favorite moments of scripture is when Jesus prays in the garden on the night of his arrest. He drops to his knees, agonizing over what is yet to come and praying for another way yet trusting in the Father’s way. It’s a beautiful picture of Jesus’s humanness and godliness in that prayer: “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.”

But the past couple of read-throughs of this story, another piece of it has caught my attention. It’s the part where Jesus returns from his prayers to find the disciples sleeping when he’d asked them to watch and pray.

They just had a good meal, a nice foot washing, and now it’s late and they’re in this comfortable garden. I get it. I’d be sleepy too. But it’s puzzling that the Son of God asked them to “watch and pray” and instead they took a nap.

I could hear them saying back to him: But Jesus, you love naps…

Yet that wasn’t what he asked of them in that moment.

I continually find myself wanting to brush past this story for a couple of reasons. One, it’s familiar. I’ve read it many times, there’s nothing new to be found here. Two, I don’t really understand it. Doesn’t Jesus know he’s going to be arrested? Why does he need the disciples to keep watch? I usually decide to shrug it off as one of those weird Jesus moments I’ll never understand.

But the Holy Spirit keeps drawing me back to it again and again as if to say, pay attention. There’s something for you here.

But I can’t say I’ve gotten much clarity on what this whole moment was about.

Until I noticed a theme in the entirety of scripture that I’ve not noticed before.

Watchfulness.

An Overlooked Discipline

This idea of watchfulness is all over the Bible. Here’s just a few instances:

• “Be alert and always keep on praying…” (Ephesians 6:18)

• “Be alert and of sober mind…” (1 Peter 5:8)

• “Therefore keep watch…” (Matthew 24:42)

• “Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.” (Colossians 4:2)

It’s easy to read a verse like Colossians 4:2 and say that it’s all about prayer and gratitude, totally skipping over that word watchful. I think that’s because prayer and being thankful are ideas we can get our heads around. We know how to do those things whether or not we do them as often as we’d like. But watchfulness? What does that even mean?

The other reason I think we overlook watchfulness is because it has a creepy ‘end-times’ feel to it. It can almost come across as threatening, “you better stay alert because Jesus will be returning any second and you want to make sure you’re ready for judgement day, bucko!” (Isn’t bucko what you get called when you’re on thin ice? I feel like it is.)

I don’t think watchfulness is just about being watchful for Jesus’s return. I also don’t think it’s only about keeping watch for physical threats. Watchfulness is about an increased awareness of the spiritual influences around us.

Why Should I Keep Watch?

It is becoming clearer and clearer that this is an important aspect of being a Christian. Paul, Peter, and of course, Jesus all instruct followers to keep watch in some way. They don’t just tell them to pray, but to pay attention.

Peter says to keep watch because there’s an enemy in our midst.

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. ‭‭

1 Peter‬ ‭5‬:‭8‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Jesus talks about this same enemy like this:

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. I am the good shepherd… ‭‭

John‬ ‭10‬:‭10‬-11 ‭ESV‬‬

When Paul writes about being prayerful and watchful in Colossians 4, he’s talking about doing so in the context of sharing the Gospel with those who haven’t heard and accepted it. Therefore, this gives us three reasons for keeping watch.

1. We have an enemy, prowling like a lion.

   The enemy has a vision for your life and it’s not a good one. He wants to steal your joy, rob you of peace, and destroy any shred of life in you. His only endgame is destruction. Yet as he prowls, growls, and whispers, he knows how to make himself sound a lot like someone who wants the best for you. He doesn’t.

   So we keep watch. We stay alert. We learn to identify the ways that his lies and deceptions show up in our lives. I believe they are a little different for each person. What specifically does the enemy want you to do or believe right now? What direction would he like to lead you?

2. We have a Good Shepherd, leading us in the right direction.

   God and the devil have different visions for our lives that are in direct opposition to one another. Jesus wants only the best for you — an abundant life, a free life, a purposeful life. All of which last for all eternity.

   We must keep watch because God speaks in a still, small voice. We have to be intentionally aware that he could be speaking, leading, or prompting us at any moment and it could be easy to miss.

3. We have a mission to make disciples.

   Our call is to take the Gospel to people and places it hasn’t quite reached and to make disciples. If we want to live the abundant life that God has for us, we will find it on the path towards this calling. God may ask a lot of his people, yet he gives us his Holy Spirit to guide us through it.

   Where could the Holy Spirit be taking you next? Which people in your life are hurting and need the hope of Jesus? What words could he be specifically placing on your heart for certain situations? We have to remain watchful of what God is doing and how he is specifically inviting us to join in.

Two Questions to Start Asking

Watchfulness is a powerful strategy against the enemy and an essential tool for following the way of Jesus. If we’re going to become more watchful, I think it has to do with paying attention to these questions with some regularity:

What is God doing in and around me?

What is the enemy doing in and around me?

If we pay close enough attention, I believe we’ll find some answers. We won’t always know everything God is up to, not even close. But he invites us to keep a pulse on the limited amount of spiritual ongoings he allows us to see.

Please hear this: Watchfulness is not fearfulness. With our Good Shepherd, we do not need to fear evil. Watchfulness is increased awareness that we may prayerfully participate in the will of God and push back against the work of the enemy.

Watchfulness is turning up the volume on our spiritual surroundings so that we can learn to discern between the voice of our Good Shepherd and the voice of the prowling lion. It’s paying attention when we’re used to brushing past something that just seems little odd. It’s staying awake instead of falling asleep because that’s what our Lord has asked us to do.

“What was that?!” We said to each other.

I got up, turned on the lights, and prepared to scold our cat. But Marshall1 was no where to be found.

What I did find was two little empty hooks on the wall and this picture hiding behind our dresser, broken.

Just the day before, I was feeling anxious and discouraged. I happened to read the verse out loud while getting ready for the day and once I did, I felt something shift in my heart. Normally, little things like that don’t make much of a difference but something about those particular words attached to that image reoriented me to the reality of hope. So I committed to reading it more often.

Now here it was, broken.

I bought this for Rachel as a gift years ago during a really difficult season and it sat in the floor for that many years before I finally found motivation to hang it up.

Now here it was, back on that same floor.

How on earth did that happen?

At first I thought some demonic horror movie type stuff was going on— but from what I know about demons, the events of these movies tend to be very exaggerated and mostly fictitious. Odds are, I just didn’t use strong enough hooks. Hanging pictures is one of my least favorite tasks of all time and I’m hardly a pro.

Regardless, I do believe we have a spiritual enemy who comes after what is true to break it apart, distort it, or hide it from plain sight.

We have an enemy that wants to steal our peace and joy, and rob us of everything good the Lord wants to give us.

We have an enemy that wants to distract us from God’s gifts, God’s purpose, and God’s goodness.

I don’t necessarily think this enemy throws pictures off walls but I must confront the fact that he is active in the world and likely my own life in some way.

So I resolve to hold onto truth.

In this case, that means I’m going to look down at the floor more often while I get ready for the day because if I’m being honest, this picture probably won’t make its way back up for a while.

Here’s a question worth asking yourself:

1

Can you tell this bro likes to cause trouble?

What’s wrong with galvanized pipes? I’m no plumber but enough of them have told me that these pipes are super outdated. They have a tendency to corrode and all kinds of nasty stuff builds up inside of them.

This explained some things. Our water pressure had always been horrendously low and inconsistent. For example, you could either take a shower or run the dishwasher but never both at the same time (unless you wanted to stand in a freezing cold shower relying on tiny drips of warm water). The unfortunate truth was that replacing all of these pipes would be too costly. So, we learned to live with it.

Then a pipe broke in our front yard. These pipes were so outdated that when the city came to check it out, they ended up replacing most of our galvanized pipes with fancy new copper pipes at no cost to us. Once they finished their work, I ran to turn on the kitchen sink and was startled by the speed and volume of water rushing out of the faucet. It was glorious! I tried the bathroom sink, the shower, and every other source of water I could find inside our house and it all flowed beautifully. (You know you’ve reached true adulthood when improved water pressure is this exciting.)

Spiritual Plumbing

As far as we know, Jesus was a carpenter not a plumber. But that didn’t stop him from providing his divine wisdom on spiritual plumbing in John chapter 7:

“…Jesus stood up and cried out, ‘If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’”

In this moment, Jesus reveals himself as the source of living water. Like regular water, it brings forth life. But Jesus is talking about a whole new kind of life. A life full of love, joy, and peace that lasts for eternity. Life to the full, now and forever.

Jesus declares himself as the only way to receive the kind of life we were meant for.

If we keep reading in John 7, we learn that living water is a metaphor for the Holy Spirit. Therefore the only way to live the fullest kind of life is with the Spirit of God within us. A gift only Jesus can give.

So here’s how it works: Make sure all of the pipes flowing into your heart are firmly connected to the source. Then, the living water flowing directly into your heart will then overflow into the world around you.

When we allow Jesus to infuse us with living water, the spiritually dry areas in the world around us get watered. Our families, friendships, and communities who may not have their own connection to Jesus will now have access to this living water as it flows out of us. They not only get to see the good life that Jesus offers but the path to receiving it directly for themselves is revealed.

When we’re filled with and live by the Holy Spirit, others take notice. The peace, love, and joy we experience becomes palpable to them and suddenly they’re trying to figure out where and how to get it.

And we, as followers of Jesus, get to show them.

Imagine if every single Christian consistently came to Jesus as their source of life. Not just on Sundays. Not just when we’re feeling extra spiritual. Not just when we’re in crisis and we need divine assistance. What if we all made it our first priority to cling to him each and every day?

I believe there would be countless rivers of living water flowing into this dry, thirsty world.

Jesus isn’t talking about just improving water pressure. He’s not talking about marginally increasing our effectiveness in ministry. He isn’t saying, come to me and drink so that your faucet into the world flows a bit more efficiently. He’s not talking about a drip, trickle, or even a stream— Jesus says that an entire freakin’ river will flow out of your heart.

With Jesus (and only with Jesus) we can have far greater impact in this world.

Call the Plumber

The only issue is this: a lot of us are working with something like galvanized pipes. Something is impeding our connection with Jesus and those who need him. There’s corrosion and things that have built up in our hearts that don’t belong. Things like sin, unhealed wounds, fear, doubt, pride, unforgiveness, and complacency to name a few.

These are all very human issues. Nevertheless, we don’t have to learn to live with them. We don’t have to be content with the drips of living water trickling out of our hearts on a good day. I can’t promise it won’t come with a cost, but God desires to work with you to repair, replace, or clean out the parts of your heart that need it. Our God is in the business of renovating hearts. Spiritual plumbing is his specialty.

King David, having some nasty buildup of his own deep within his heart, prayed this prayer:

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence, and take not your Holy Spirit from me.

Psalm 51:10-11 (ESV)

Even in our weakness, Jesus invites you and I to join him in flooding this world with living water. He invites us, as works-in-progress, to help bring his Kingdom to earth.

Do you want to respond to that invitation? Then pray David’s prayer in Psalm 51. Maybe even make it a weekly or daily prayer. I can’t think of many things that would be more impactful to this world than each of us daily crying out to God, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and let your Spirit flow through me.”

Each December, I sit down with a journal and with the Holy Spirit’s guidance, I ask myself: What was the story of this past year?

As I reflect on 2025, I can distill it into one line: The Lord provides in the wilderness.

This year was hard. It began with both my wife and I feeling the weight of grief. Then I quickly learned that grief is a shapeshifter. It looks one way in one moment then it hits you in a totally different way the next. I was unsure how long this would last and afraid of what form it might take next. In the midst of all that, God taught me a lot about who he is, where he is, and what that really means for me.

Along the way, I read 37 books. Here are my 7 favorites, divided into three things God provided in this wilderness season: love, magic, and life to the full.

Also, I am including a TL;DR review in italics below each book title.

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Love

Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen

A quick read. Easy five stars.

This was my first Henri Nouwen book and it has quickly catapulted him to my short list of favorite spiritual authors. Reading Life of the Beloved is like sitting across from a good friend who longs for you to receive the life-altering truth that you are God’s Beloved.

I read this towards the beginning of the year when everything felt hard and it was easy to not feel good enough. This was the perfect book for that time.

Magic

Sometimes the Magic Works by Terry Brooks

Fast, fun memoir for fantasy lovers and writers.

This year, my best friend told me I needed to start writing every day. So I did. Turns out the process of writing has a lot of healing properties in it. Mostly, it lets you disappear into a world of your own making— a world of magic— whether you’re actively putting words on a page or not. Which is something Terry Brooks helped teach me.

Thor: God of Thunder, Vol 1: The God Butcher by Jason Aaron

Dark, powerful, and action packed.

This is the graphic novel that the movie, Thor: Love and Thunder was based on. Where the movie lacks, this book makes up for. If you were intrigued by Gorr the God Butcher when watching the movie but felt like the satirized plot lowered the stakes too much, then read this. You won’t be disappointed. Volume 2 continues the story and was exceptional as well.

The Seven Year Slip by Ashley Poston

Short, sweet, and brings on the warm and fuzzies.

There’s something to be a said about escaping into a world that is pure fiction, like a superhero comic. But there’s also something about reading a story where a little bit of magic seeps into normal every day life. I like ‘magical realism’ because it makes reality seem a little brighter instead of completely transporting you to an alternate world.

Also, I love a good love story. And time travel.

(None of the books in this section are Christian books, even though the majority of books in this list are. The latter two especially have some more mature content. But I thought they were good stories aside from that.)

Life to the Full

Life Without Lack by Dallas Willard

Dense but doable. Well worth it.

Willard’s explanation of Psalm 23 paints a picture of life with Jesus. This is what a life of freedom and rest truly can look like on this side of eternity when we put our trust in God.

I was in a season of life where I felt like I was lacking a lot. This book reminded me what it means to cling to Jesus and showed me how this season has been an opportunity to take another step towards the life that he has for me— which is the fullest kind of life.

The Familiar Stranger by Tyler Staton

If I could convince you to read any book on this list, it would be this one.

This book helped me reimagine the presence of God in my life. Focusing so much on the Holy Spirit reminded that he isn’t just with me, he’s empowering me.

There was a lot of work to do in 2025. The harvest has been plentiful but my strength, not so much. This book not only gave me a fuller picture of the Holy Spirit but reminded me that he has come alongside of me on this journey to help in miraculous ways.

(If you come from a more intellectual, less experiential/charismatic church tradition like I do, this will probably make you uncomfortable… in the best way.)

Extreme Prayer by Greg Pruett

Quick, practical, and will change the way you pray.

This year, I was afraid of biting off more than I could chew. I was extremely hesitant to walk into situations that would require more strength or energy than I had to give. But at some point I noticed that I was not only limiting myself but limiting God.

Between these last two books, I was challenged to put myself in more positions where I’d have to rely on the strength and power of God rather than my own. I believe we taste life to the full when we acknowledge our limitations and learn to rest in the fact that God is not only bigger and more powerful than we are, but he gives us everything we need.

Somehow I made it to the end without quoting any of these books. So I’ll leave you with this one…

Books can play a significant role in each of our stories. But so much of what God wants to show us isn’t found on a page, it’s discovered when we choose to walk with him each and every day. Here’s to walking with Jesus in 2026! Happy New Year.

P.S - Can you guess which book from my list this quote is from?

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A couple of weeks ago, Rachel and I told everyone we were going camping, but we were actually staying in a bougie little cabin. (In our defense, it was a tiny cabin). We’re just not real campers. The idea of depriving ourselves of all the things we’d normally consider needs (like a bathroom) for fun, doesn’t track for us.

Though we weren’t fully roughing it, we were drawn to the simplicity of life in this cabin in the woods for a weekend. We wanted to live with less. I’m not a light packer — I like the idea of having as much of my stuff available to me as possible. But even so, I could still only bring what would fit within 150 square feet.

Whether you’re a real camper or a “glamper” like me, I don’t think any of us spend the night in the wilderness with the same expectations that we have for normal everyday life.

But we’re not here to talk about camping…

THE WILDERNESS SEASON

Words for Your Wilderness is a series on walking with God through difficult seasons. This is part 2 of that series. If you’d like, you can read part 1 here. (If not, that’s okay. You’ll catch on quick!)

The wilderness is where we are weary— whether that’s from work, parenting, lack of sleep, or fighting a battle with your health. It’s a place where everything feels dry spiritually— it’s hard to pray, hard to feel God’s presence, hard to have faith. You might experience the wilderness when you’ve lost someone you love or when you’re just feeling a bit off and everything in between.

The wilderness is where life is a little wild but not in the fun way.

David was in the wilderness fleeing for his life when he wrote the words of Psalm 63:

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

Psalm 63:1 ESV

When we find ourselves in a season of life that is scary, uncertain, stressful, or heavy, we can also find God in the midst of that wilderness inviting us to hold on to him as he gets us through it.

The wilderness is where we cling to God.

But clinging to God, especially in a hard season, is not easy. David basically cried out, “God, where are you? I need you to show up here. I can’t do this without you!”

Have you ever prayed words like that when life wasn’t going the way it’s supposed to?

We often cry out to God when we need help but then get swept away by the current of the difficult season. When life is hard, we tend to keep doing what we always do when life is hard. Cancel another event, binge another season, find another way to numb out and fall into that familiar sin pattern.

Our prayer doesn’t seem to change anything and God continues to feel far.

We want him but have no idea where or how to find him.

RUNNING LIKE CRAZY

I run regularly. I do it because it keeps a harness on two of my most consistent struggles: ADD and anxiety.

Without this rhythm, I lose focus throughout the day, get lost in the unimportant, and many tasks take twice as long to accomplish. On top of that, I easily slip into cycles of overthinking. Those cycles turn and turn, generating enough energy to become a surging ball of electricity in my chest called anxiety.

I can miss a run here and there but if this rhythm gets completely disrupted, it feels like a slippery slope to becoming a basket case. Through trial and error, I found an exact formula for how often I need to run: Four days a week. Twelve miles in total.

Then one day, I couldn’t make it two miles. It started with soreness in my foot that became so bad that it halted the entire run. The doctor prescribed me some exercises and time off from running.

Suddenly, I lost one of the most important tools I had to stay grounded, and that felt terrifying. I feared that I would become nothing more than an anxious, unfocused mess. Each day was full of uncertainty as I anticipated the worst.

I began each morning the same way I always do. I’d make a cup of coffee, climb the stairs to sit at my desk, and open up my journal and Bible. But I was already losing focus and getting distracted during prayer. My body was feeling off, and I was both angry and anxious. The things that normally helped me connect with God seemed to have lost all flavor.

The desk which once felt like a gateway to the presence of God was now just a slab of wood and I was there alone. That was the beginning of a wilderness season.

WHEN GOD FEELS FAR AWAY

Let’s see what else David had to say in the wilderness:

So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory.

Psalm 63:2 ESV

In verse 2, David looked back at how he connected with God in the past. This sanctuary was his place of worship, the tabernacle. The story of which goes way back before David’s time and actually originated in the wilderness. When the Israelites wandered in the desert after their escape from Egypt, God told Moses to have them build this fancy tent for him to be with them on their journey.

And let them make me a sanctuary, that I may dwell in their midst.

Exodus 25:8 ESV

The tabernacle held spiritual and historical significance for David. Standing beside it, it would be difficult not to take in God’s power and respond in worship. He may have participated in musical worship or in making sacrifices to the Lord before the tabernacle. The problem for David as he wrote Psalm 63 was that he was miles away from it. Now, thrust into the wilderness of Judah, encountering God wouldn’t have looked the same at all as it did before. He couldn’t behold God’s glory in the way he’s used to.

David felt far from God in the wilderness. He cried out to him. He wanted more of him. He was thirsty for that intimacy with God he once had, knowing that it was the only salve to the wilderness sting. And I imagine there were moments when it felt like those prayers weren’t heard and he was tempted to let the wilderness consume him.

But David knew he wasn’t helpless. He drew upon his past experiences with the Lord to remind him what was true in the present:

1. God is bigger than the distance he feels.

2. Clinging to him is absolutely possible and necessary.

So he continued to seek connection with God and because of where he was, he knew he had to do it differently.

LEARN THE UNFORCED RHYTHMS OF GRACE

The wilderness takes a toll on us. Not only is it draining, but we don’t have access to the same resources we normally do. We are displaced from the wells we usually drink from.

Our bodies are weak, spirits fading, and our packs empty. This isn’t home. This isn’t life as usual. Therefore, the way we approach God will not be the same.

He is dwelling in your midst, just like he was for the Israelites. You may not be able to feel him and honestly, you might not for a while. Clinging to God in the wilderness isn’t about manufacturing that warm and fuzzy feeling of being with the Lord but is about finding ways to live out the reality of his presence despite what you’re feeling.

In the months following the loss of our daughter, a friend of mine would constantly remind me to learn the unforced rhythms of grace1. So often I’d be discouraged or angry with myself for not being ‘on track’ with my spiritual growth or for not keeping up my same level of discipline.

But just like you don’t bring your entire refrigerator on a camping trip, bringing all of your expectations of ‘life as usual’ into a wilderness season just doesn’t make sense. God’s grace is big enough for your struggle. You simply won’t be at your best, and that’s alright for a little while.

Clinging to God in the wilderness doesn’t mean having more Bible study. It might actually mean less.

It does not mean being more diligent with your prayer list and your prayer journal. It might actually mean asking more people to pray for you instead.

There’s a time to push yourself to a higher level of discipline. But in the wilderness, you might have to push yourself just to get out of bed in the morning. I don’t think there’s any need to force yourself into spiritual disciplines that aren’t right for this season. That will only lead to burnout, more discouragement, and an increased feeling of distance from God.

It might just be that your wilderness season is an invitation to encounter God in a new way.

TRY SOMETHING NEW

Eventually, I stopped trying to connect with God at my desk and went for a walk. At first, it was just a way to move my body while expressing my fears and frustrations to him. But once it ended, I realized that was the most quality time I’ve spent with him in days. So I kept doing it.

My walks with God became a way of clinging to him in the wilderness. Through it, he reminded me that I was allowed to show up with only the small amount of time, energy, and focus I had to offer and he would meet me there. And through continual conversation with him, a lot of anxiety was lifted as my prayers reminded me that God is not as far as he feels and that he’s bigger than this wilderness.

Now that I am out of that season, I still opt for a prayer walk on some days instead of sitting at my desk. There’s something so sweet about hitting the sidewalk and rambling on about life with him just as I would with a good friend.

In the wilderness, I still had to make space for God in my life but I was able to release the heavy expectations I was carrying. That season became an opportunity for me to discover a deeper, more life-giving friendship with God that I’m not sure I would have found any other way.

People go camping because there’s something refreshing about disconnecting from our everyday comforts, rhythms, and means of control. We pack our things and head out into the wilderness on purpose because we know there’s something good to be found there.

I know your difficult season is not just a weekend in the woods. Far from it. But I believe that it’s in the dark parts of the wilderness that God will invite you into a deeper, richer, and more fulfilling life with him.

A GENTLE PRACTICE

Through a lengthy and harrowing season of chronic illness, author and spiritual director, Strahan Coleman2, similarly discovered powerful new habits of connecting with God. He says that our habits will “build a place for God to meet us in the times and ways He longs to…”

So choose just one habit. Something that doesn’t feel burdensome or forced but might actually sound refreshing. Lean into that. If that doesn’t work, try something different.

Like the Israelites wandering in the wilderness, God is dwelling in your midst. He wants to spend time with you. He wants to walk you through this. All you have to do is create a little space for him.

I was sitting on a lounge chair beside a pool in the Florida sun. Still, it felt so dark.

We lost our daughter in August. The months following were the hardest we’ve ever had. Grief successfully steamrolled over our summer, our fall, and left us broken in the bitter cold of winter. Grief began to manifest as anxiety, which followed me everywhere — even on our vacation.

I’m not the biggest fan of winter but I love the end of the year for one reason: a fresh start.

I sat on that lounge chair and I prayed, “God, what do you have for me this year?”

Deep inside, I think I knew that 2025 would be a lot of the same. Pure survival. Yet I longed for the new year to contain something different, something new. I just wanted to escape this painful and messy season.

As I prayed, a word floated into my mind.

Cling

Hmm. Not quite the word I was looking for. “You got anything else, Lord?”

Nope.

That was it. That’s what God had for me. Cling. Now what am I supposed to do with that?

Words That Don’t Pretend

During Rachel’s pregnancy and for months after Ariana’s passing, the only scriptures I read were Psalms. In the hardest of seasons, they were the tiny thread that my relationship with God hung onto. Reading any other part of the Bible felt like too much.

Just give me the raw, gritty prayers of the guy who loved God but didn’t always have his life together. Or the songs of a man who could worship the Lord, express doubt in the Lord, and get angry at the Lord all in one breath. I’ll take the poems written by another father who lost a child.

Pain taught me that following Jesus is not as simple or tidy as others make it seem to be. And it’s striking how few people are honest about that reality in their own lives. David didn’t pretend with his faith. I needed words from someone like that.

Not long after that Florida trip, I found this Psalm:

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

Psalm 63:1 ESV

That feeling of thirst was relatable. I wanted more of God but he felt really far away. My whole world was a dry and weary land where I couldn’t seem to find anything I was looking for. I searched for more, I found less.

I noticed later that underneath the Psalm title it says:

“A Psalm of David, when he was in the wilderness of Judah.”

David found himself in the wilderness at least a couple of times. This was written either when he was running from King Saul or fleeing his son, Absalom. Either way, it was penned in the midst of fear, betrayal, and heartbreak.

We All Enter the Wilderness

I’m grateful that we know where David was when he wrote this because it’s a place that we all eventually find ourselves. David, you, and I may have completely different stories but we all have something in common. We all have seasons in our own wilderness when we’re just trying to survive. Maybe that’s where you are right now.

The wilderness is where we feel lost, afraid, or empty. It’s when our world feels uncontrolled, untamed, and uncertain. In the wilderness, nighttime is really dark. Daytime seems brighter but feels equally frightening. As you walk through it, it’s hard to know if the next turn you make will lead you back home or straight into a den of lions.

Here’s the other thing we can learn from David about the wilderness: It’s where we realize our desperate need for God. This is a place where the only chance of finding our way through it is to cling to him.

Look at what word I found tucked into this passage…

My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.

Psalm 63:8 ESV

In the wilderness of Judah, David made a choice to earnestly seek God before anything else. He chose to cling to his God when the suffering probably seemed like a good reason to let go. I imagine that wasn’t an easy choice to make.

We All Cling to Something

There are many things we choose to cling to when we walk through the wilderness. We tend to search for anything that promises the slightest bit of control, comfort, or escape. I hoped that a trip to Florida would teleport me out of my wilderness. I hoped God would give me a mission or resolution for a new year that would help me leave the wilderness behind. Instead, he met me right there in the thick of the woods and invited me to something a lot more powerful.

Cling… to me.

Let me hold you up.

Let me walk you through this.

The Lord is extending the same invitation to you.

What do you cling to in your wilderness seasons? What do you search for? There may not be anything that will remove the pain or difficulty from you right now but there is a loving God who wants to meet you there.

Piecing Together Prayers

It’s hard to form words in the wilderness. Sometimes just coming up with prayers feels near impossible. Thankfully, others have prayed their way through the wilderness and left their prayers for us. So make David’s words in Psalm 63 your prayer. Learn from them. Let them sink in. And then watch how God uses them to help you find your way through this dark, uncharted forest.

I don’t know what kind of wilderness you’re walking through. Whether you are grieving immeasurable loss or simply having a rough day, this is for you. If you’re not ready to make this prayer your own, that’s okay. You are allowed to be right where you are, feeling whatever you’re feeling. You can reach for God at your own pace.

Let’s walk through this wilderness together. Over the next several emails/substack posts, I’m going to spend some time sharing my own wilderness stories as I go through Psalm 63, offering ways for us to make these words a close companion.

A Gentle Practice

Read Psalm 63.

Then read it again. As you do, make the words your own. Some of David’s words might not feel true for you today and that’s alright. Adjust whatever words you need so that they become a true reflection of your heart as you give them over to God. They don’t have to be nice and neat and you don’t have to pretend.

Start by making that your prayer just for today.

Eventually, I actually get up. Reality feels overwhelming. When I start to make my coffee, routine becomes challenge.

“You know you left your toothbrush out,” my wife says to me.

Oh, yeah. I forgot I was in the middle of something.

Once the coffee finishes brewing, I pour myself a cup. It’s just as unsatisfying as the previous 8 hours of sleep. It fails to reboot my system. It’s not even close to being the cup of ambition I needed it to be.

I realize that there is no immediate solution to my problem. I’m so tired I could cry. Although I think I’m even too tired to do that.

Instead of walking my coffee upstairs for my time with God, I sip and scroll through instagram.

I think about the four-mile run I had planned for this morning. My bones are denser than the concrete porch I sit on as I write this. My muscles are useless flesh. Breathing even feels kind of hard. Ugh. I just don’t think I have it in me. I don’t think I have anything in me at all. I think you know that feeling too.

I remember Elijah. The star prophet of 1 Kings, who endured all kinds of crazy stuff as he did the Lord’s work. To make a long story short (sorry, I’m too tired to give you more context), Elijah was exhausted. If I remember correctly, he was more than exhausted. Heartbroken. Scared. Alone. Ready to give up.

He fled to the wilderness and God met him there. Elijah lay down on the ground and slept. He woke up and the angel of the Lord fed him. Then he slept again. He woke up and there was more food! Then he slept some more.

Eventually, God led him to a spiritual encounter that would feed his soul. God reminded him of truth and prepared his mind and heart to continue his work. But first, God met his physical needs. He started with food and naps. It wasn’t anything crazy or complicated. Everything else could wait.

If that’s enough for Elijah, maybe it’s enough for me.

I take my coffee, some water, my Bible, and my little journal to a comfier spot. I don’t try to climb the stairs to the desk where I usually meet with God. I don’t attempt any Bible study or the rigorous journaling I usually love. I just take a few steps out to the front porch and settle into the cushioned rocker. It’s not a seat of productivity but of rest.

I start to write down some things I’m thankful for. An easy, restful discipline. I stop when I feel like stopping and don’t force myself to go any further. I guiltlessly shut the journal and set it to the side and pick up my Bible.

Something about holding my Bible helps me breathe a little easier. I ignore the bookmark I had tucked in the New Testament epistles and go to the Psalms. I flip through some of the ones I’ve read over and over again. I’m not looking for anything new. I don’t need to. This isn’t a time of learning or personal growth.

I read Psalm 30. Usually I pray Psalms out loud. But this time I keep most of it in my head. When I finish, I don’t re-read it. I don’t take notes. I flip around the Psalms a little bit more without reading another word. There is something about just holding the word of God that reminds me of his presence. I could sit here and read the whole story of God’s people if I wanted to. I could encounter Jesus by reading the words of those who walked with him. This book represents a God who comes close. And also a God who is gracious, gentle and kind.

I put the Bible down. That’s enough for now. I rock back and forth just a little and I breathe.

I don’t really have the energy to pray. I just say, “Thank you, Lord” with hardly any volume. My heart holds gratitude for who he is and all he has been doing around me but my body doesn’t have energy to express it. Nevertheless, I hear a voice whisper to me, “That’s okay.” And I believe it.

I keep drinking my water. I keep taking in the beautiful surroundings of a late summer morning. I let my mind wander to all kinds of unspiritual but delightful things. My body rests in this chair and I let time keep passing.

Later today, I’ll have things to do. But right now, the Lord lets me rest. He has me drinking some water, breathing fresh air, and having a good, long sit.

I was sitting at a table in a Mexican restaurant with a group of friends. The waitress had just brought the bill and I pulled out my phone to calculate the tip. Except rather than getting my iPhone out of my pocket, I pulled out something very different.

And people noticed.

“It’s my phone,” I said.

“There’s no way that’s a phone,” One of them said back.

“Yeah, it actually is…” Everyone’s eyes were now drawn to the little device. I turned the screen towards them to showcase my new phone. They marveled at how tiny it was, how the screen was in black and white, and how it couldn’t take photos or browse the internet. What was especially shocking to them was the fact that I’d made the conscious choice to replace my perfectly good iPhone with… this thing:

This is called a Light Phone. It was my phone for two whole months of my life.

They responded with the same question I’ve gotten repeatedly, “but… why?”

But… WHY?

For the last several years I’ve paid attention to the voices warning us against the pitfalls of technology and social media. Slowly, I began to make some adjustments to my own technological habits, dabbling in my own version of digital minimalism. Restricting notifications, putting limits on certain apps, that sort of thing. Over time, I found a few adjustments that worked to help me be more present and even a bit less anxious. I was convinced these cautionary voices were onto something. I still am.

There was one thing, however, I never had the guts to do: Ditch the smartphone. I’ve heard of people doing this and to me, that seemed like overkill. Don’t get me wrong, I was definitely impressed by this move. People said they found it to be a freeing experience which was definitely intriguing. But is it worth it? Would it even be possible in this digital age?

The Light Phone had been on my radar for a while. I discovered it sometime in college and thought it was a neat idea. It was interesting enough that over the years I would continue to think about it. There was something about it that was kind of appealing. But I always ended up back in the same place: Nope. Not worth it.

Then in 2023 I went through a season of unusually high anxiety. There were a lot of factors but mainly, there was just so much to do. I felt super stressed, overwhelmed, constantly tense and tired. Words like ‘lighter’ and ‘freeing’ were sounding pretty darn good.

Anxiety has a tendency to make Jesus feel distant. A mind overrun with worries, stress, and self-doubt can reduce the living God to a character in a book you wish would come to life. The most overwhelming moments of this season drove me to open the scriptures for solace only to find a 2D Jesus instead of a savior coming to my rescue.

I tried to keep up my prayer habit, all the same. During my morning devotional time I’d call out to him. God, help me through this. Help me to trust you more. Please relieve all of this weight I am carrying. As I prayed, I had the sense that God was inviting me to make a bold adjustment to my life.

The Light Phone returned to mind. Could this be it? I wondered.

In a mix of desperation and Holy Spirit nudging, I ordered a dumbphone.

The Light Phone Arrives

It arrived in a neatly packed black box. I tore it open and was amazed at how little space the phone took up inside the box. I literally laughed out loud when I first held it in my hands.

It was SO SMALL. How on earth is this going to be my phone? I wondered. The screen was barely bigger than the tips of my two thumbs.

They sell cases for the Light Phone which seemed like a silly investment. I mean, the thing was basically a modern Nokia. I was pretty sure I could take it water skiing and it would be just fine. Not that I ever go water skiing.

I was in love with the e-ink screen. It looks sort of like the original GameBoy. Simple yet functional and nothing more. It would have to refresh itself constantly which would be an interruption if I was watching YouTube or scrolling through Instagram. But this phone had neither of those things therefore it wasn’t an interruption at all. It was a reminder that it’s okay to stop and breathe for a second. It was a reminder that life isn’t about doing everything as quickly and efficiently as possible. A reminder I very much needed.

It was scary to make such a big jump from smartphone to dumbphone. Some features didn’t work quite as well. For example, group messages didn’t always transfer over and I disappeared from a handful of them. That frustrated me a lot at first but eventually became a reminder that it’s not the end of the world to miss out on things. Those who need me know how to find me.

It had a GPS but no way of avoiding traffic jams or helping you find gas stations along your route. It was like when you used to print out directions on MapQuest. The Light Phone made life more difficult to control.

I spent way less time on my phone because there was pretty much nothing to do with it except communicate. There were no distractions. No escapes. On top of that, the phone was not satisfying to use. Typing was slow. Everything was slow, actually. There weren’t any stimulating colors or images. Nothing in this device was optimized for satisfaction or efficiency. It felt like it was always trying to push me away, as if it didn’t like me.

What the Light Phone Revealed About Me

Apparently I reach for my phone a lot.

That wasn’t a revelation. But it took having a dumbphone to realize how often I’d reach for it as a response to feeling frustrated or anxious. I learned that I like to find ways to disappear into an imaginary digital land when the real world gets hard.

Planning a youth ministry event and I hit a little roadblock → find something to scroll.

Writing a sermon and it’s not going the way I want it to → look through every single one of my photos from the year 2018.

Open an email that I’m not sure how to respond to → google a random b-level actor, memorize their filmography and learn about their childhood.

I noticed how I even reached for my phone when I got bored with the person I was spending time with, when I found myself in social gatherings I wanted to momentarily exit, or when the TV show I was watching hit a lull in the storyline.

Before this, my iPhone was always nearby queued up with all kinds of escape routes into a different world. Now there were none. When I found a problem, I could no longer secure that taste of dopamine to make things feel better for a second (isn’t dopamine just the best?). I couldn’t find an app to hack my way through it. I couldn’t disappear into aimless scrolling.

And that really ticked me off.

After a few days of cursing the Light Phone for its failure to serve me the way my iPhone would, I started to think…

Isn’t it doing exactly what I asked it to?

Could this frustration be revealing something deeper I need to pay attention to?

Yes to both.

Frightening Nothingness

The Light Phone created a big empty space in my daily life. Suddenly the days were void of many of the things I chose to reach for when things weren’t going how I wanted them to go. I picked up the dumbphone so many times only to be reminded it wasn’t going to give me what I thought I wanted.

There was a lot of frightening nothingness. That nothingness taught me a lot. Since I couldn’t disappear when things were hard, I had to confront some important questions:

• Why do I reach so much for my phone to feel better?

• Why do I constantly feel a need to escape?

• What else am I tempted to reach for that isn’t good for me?

Meanwhile, as I was working through those questions, life carried on. At the time, I was preparing for a sermon series with my students that was going to be really tough. It was a long overdue topic of discussion that was both controversial and sensitive. I didn’t want to upset anyone who had opinions on how this subject should be taught and even more, I didn’t want to make any student feel isolated or ashamed if I taught it the wrong way. It was a lot to carry.

I turned to God in prayer as I thought about how I was going to do this.

Then as I kept working, I did it again.

Then when I got into my car instead of pulling Spotify up on my phone, I did it again.

On my run, I did it again.

God, give me words for this message. Jesus, open their hearts to receive this message.

While I cooked dinner… Lord, what do you think about sharing this passage? Do you think this would be a helpful way to present this? What do you think I’m missing?

Walking out of the house the next morning… Hey God, I don’t know if any of what I have written is right but will you use it anyway? I’m really worried about this one specific line I have written but I also feel really compelled to say it. If it would be harmful will you make that apparent to me? Wow, God, it’s a beautiful day. Thanks for that.

Walking into work… Thanks for this coffee. It’s really good.

Then I hit one of those points in my work where the productivity just wasn’t flowing. I didn’t reach for my phone at all…

Jesus, I’m having trouble with focus today. Please give me focus to do this work well. Also, I’m feeling a little anxious. Not sure what that’s all about. Can you help?

My prayer life gradually shifted the more I realized that the nothingness provided a beautiful invitation. The invitation was not to reach for things that would make me feel better instantaneously, but to reach for Jesus.

There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful, than that of a continual conversation with God.

Brother Lawrence, The Practice of the Presence of God

What I found in that empty space was Jesus waiting for me to turn to him. Not just to ask him for stuff but to rely on him. And not just to rely on him but to be with him. I found that with all of this empty space, I was able to go through each day more aware of his presence. Not because I had some warm fuzzy feeling that I didn’t before, but because I was living differently.

I started living as though what I had always believed was actually true. I lived like the Holy Spirit was always with me by asking for his help. I lived like Jesus deeply loved and cared for me by talking to him about anything and everything that came to mind, no matter how small, messy, or seemingly unspiritual. I lived like God was the giver of good gifts by having the time and space to notice all the tiny pieces of goodness he scatters upon each day and say “Thanks God.”

Freely and Lightly

There was no miraculous healing of all my worries and doubts. The stressors and burdens I carried didn’t disappear. But now I had confidence that I wasn’t carrying them all on my own.

The dumbphone itself didn’t make my life any lighter. It didn’t bring me freedom. It created the space for me to experience both lightness and freedom through a deeper friendship with Christ.

I was reading through Matthew during this adventure and often hung on Jesus’s words at the end of chapter 11. The Message version particularly sticks out to me:

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion?… Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.

It turns out that when you’re attuned to the reality of Jesus’s presence and his power, you find yourself living freely and lightly. Once I removed a lot of the noise in my life, it became easier to ‘keep company’ with him. The Jesus on the pages of my Bible became a real person, walking with me and working with me, causing my love for him to take a new shape. What long looked like mere devotion now had an added layer of affection.

You know, the kind of feelings you’d have for a good friend.

I wrote this at the end of my two months with the Light Phone in a journal entry I called, ‘Jesus Materialized’:

My heart swells with love for Jesus. This is a man that comforts and affirms me, walks with me, strengthens me, provides for me, and feeds me. I previously knew with my head that he is who I need and want but I did not yet know him as a companion. Of course, I don’t fully know Jesus. I certainly haven’t arrived. And maybe this isn’t much of anything. But he feels more real to me than ever before. And I love him, as I have, but different.

March 28, 2024

I knew that the warm and fuzzy sensation would come and go, nevertheless, this whole experience would stay tucked away in my heart, another block in the faith foundation.

What I didn’t know was that just one month after this journal entry, that foundation would get hit by a storm more powerful than I could have ever anticipated. I think without this meaningful time, that foundation would have been deeply shaken. You can read more about that on my other blog.

I am back to my iPhone now. The Light Phone just wasn’t a practical enough replacement. But this ‘digital fast’ gave me a fresh perspective on how I wanted to use my smartphone that I wouldn’t have gotten otherwise. I learned which features I truly needed and which I could live without. While I still have a long way to go, all of this has helped me stay much more open to Jesus's presence than I was before.

Hidden Treasure

The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.

Matthew 13:44 NIV

If you want to be more aware of God’s presence in your life, you don’t have to abandon your smartphone. But I am convinced that on the other end of bold adjustments to the way you use your phone is an opportunity to receive more of what Jesus wants to offer you. And to live life the way he intended for us all to live— with him. That is a treasure far more valuable than what could ever fit on a screen.

That treasure, in other words, is life in the Kingdom of God.

So go after it with all you’ve got.

It’s okay to start small. Take it one step at a time.

Or if you want, do something crazy and see what happens.

It will take some creativity, time, and maybe even money.

But know this: whatever it takes to seek more of Jesus and his Kingdom, is so worth it.