EMBOLDENED

EMBOLDENED

Tag: god

the one thing we need

May 19th, 2025

Need is the great gift of God.

I read this in a book recently, and I have begun to wonder: do I believe neediness is a gift?

Often, it feels like a burden. To need something from someone.

Sometimes need leads to disappointment, broken trust, or hopelessness. Other times, it leads to loneliness or despair. To avoid those feelings at all costs, we instead attempt to build and sustain lives of independence, relying on no one but ourselves. But what happens when we let ourselves down – when we didn’t measure up to our own expectations of how, who, or what to be in this world? What happens when we make a mistake?

We, too, place unfair expectations on people in our lives to show up for us, delight us, and give us purpose. What happens when they don’t come through the way we’d hope?

We were never made to satisfy the deepest longings of our hearts on our own – neither for ourselves nor for others. God created us for communion with Him, and the lack we experience can only be filled by the presence of the God who made us. The One clothed with splendor and majesty, wrapped in light as a garment, who rides on the wings of the wind. The One who somehow saw it very good to create humanity on the sixth day.

To the One who holds it all in the palm of His hand, who parts the seas and brings the dead to life, we bring our neediness and see a new possible outcome. We don’t hide it away, but lay it as His feet, and instead of burden and disappointment, we’re met with relationship and presence. In His arms, need begins to feel like a gift because in Him, our need finds its home.

In our lack, our desperation, our longing, and our need, God shows us His heart, and reminds us the treasure it is to be His Beloved. He shows us that we’re safe to rely on Him. We can trust in Him, and lean not on our own understanding. We can find rest in His arms as we cry out for help because He has been faithful from the beginning.

I don’t have to hold myself up because God does.

I don’t have to have all the answers because I can trust God with the details.

I don’t have to make things happen in my own timing or strength because it’s the grace of God that keeps me, and His peace that covers me.

I don’t have to fear the terror of the night because He’s fighting my battles. He’s working even when I don’t see.

The same is true for you because God is the same yesterday, today, and forever; He shows no partiality.

Gospel rest is the fruit of need placed in the hands of God.

Jesus said, come to me all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. When we come to God, He helps us. He speaks life and truth over us. He reorders our desires, and becomes the Lord of our lives once again.

…

The work of becoming begins with remembering our brokenness before a worthy God – and remembering what he did for us by sending his son to die on our behalf. Without Jesus’ sacrifice, there is no atonement, no forgiveness of sins, no eternal life. We. Need. Jesus. As we remember the love that led Jesus to endure the cross, we would do well to remember how desperately we need Him, too. And as we strive and seek to deny our dependence, or place our trust in other things, let us hold fast to this simple truth:

We. Need. God. We always have, and we always will.

We have need because God created us to need Him. And while He gifted us with the will to choose, He did not remove this ache from our hearts. We were created for dependence on our Creator – to build a life of communion on His sure foundation. Despite our best efforts, God is the only One who can satisfy the deepest longing of our hearts, and we will spending our whole lives trying to fill it with self, others, and idols until we discover Him.

Even when we find solutions that rely on our own strength,

and we feel like things are going well without Him;

even when we don’t believe anyone is trustworthy,

and when we think hyper-independence is better –

all of these even when”s have a breaking point. The way through is accepting the sheer fact (and truly wonderful reality) that we are needy and God is worthy.

…

In Luke 10, we read of Martha – scattered, busy, and frustrated. We read of Mary, present, slow and aware of the presence of our King.

Mary and Martha both had need, but Mary knew the one thing she needed. Mary knew where to find her sustenance, her daily bread and living water. Martha tried to fill the void with earthly things, and in her self-sufficiency and independence, she tried to build a life sustainable without the power and presence of Jesus.

Mary surrendered her duty to sit with Jesus, knowing his presence changes everything. Before all the other preparations and tasks, she chose to sit on the floor beside her Beloved Savior because she was in awe – struck by wonder and gratitude that before her sat the rumored Messiah. She desired, above all, to hear Christ’s voice, and encounter the inner workings of his heart.

Mary desired intimacy. Martha prioritized duty.

…

I’ve always empathized with Martha – with all her walls and responsibilities – but I’ve aspired to be more like Mary. I’ve wanted to walk slowly enough to ponder, linger, and dwell in the presence of the Lord. I don’t just want to be someone who knows about God, but intimately knows Him.

The invitation for you and me is the same: to desire God more than you desire anything else. Place everything you have and all that you are before Him, and watch how He transforms all that He touches. Wait for Him to shuffle around all your priorities as He becomes the one thing you need.

The world doesn’t need more Martha’s. It needs more Mary’s. We don’t need to add to the list of people stretching themselves far beyond their capacities and limitations, living in a constant state of hustle and burnout. We need more presence, and less hustle. We need more people who desire to become more aware of His presence and power in our lives.

The world needs more people working from rest, instead of for it. More people who recognize it’s the most worthwhile activity to seek the face of Jesus.

What if God doesn’t want you to do anything but recognize that you need Him?

What if He doesn’t want you to figure it all out on your own, but to surrender and delight in Him?

What if He doesn’t want you to stuff your sorrows away, but bring them before Him so that He can speak life and peace into your situation?

What if He’s not afraid of your honesty, or your questions?

What if He just wants you to see that you need Him, and to surrender to Him as a response? Need is the beginning of hope, faith, and trust. Need draws our knees to the floor, heads bowed and fingers clasped.

Need is the beginning of transformation through Christ. Need lays the path to surrender and humility – when placed in trustworthy hands.

I’m so glad I can depend on God.

I’m so glad it’s not up to me, or another broken human (who’s out there doing their best but still falling short) to fill the void. I’m so glad I’ve found the one who can actually fill the cracks and spaces that longing and desire have created in my heart and soul. I’m so grateful that God is my Father, Friend, Savior, Lord, and Shepherd.

He desires to be yours, too.

Some of us have lost sight of the beauty and wonder in surrender. We’ve forgotten the weight of God’s grace at work in our lives. We act like laying things at the feet of Jesus is punishment, but releasing burdens into the hands of the One who knows all, sees all, and is in all is a blessing.

It’s a relief that the world doesn’t rest on our own shoulders, but in the hands of the One who holds all things together. It’s a relief that the Person we need is able to satisfy that need, too.

To you, reader, I ask: where are you trying to do it all on your own? In what have you placed your trust? How have you embraced your need as a path toward relationship with your Creator? Where might you need to refocus, reconsider, and rearrange?

Take a deep breath. Remember the one thing you need has never been hard to find. Run to the Father, and let Him transform your heart and in turn, your life.
lessons from the persistent widow

March 31st, 2025

And he told them a parable to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart. 2 He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor respected man. 3 And there was a widow in that city who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Give me justice against my adversary.’ 4 For a while he refused, but afterward he said to himself, ‘Though I neither fear God nor respect man, 5 yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will give her justice, so that she will not beat me down by her continual coming.’” 6 And the Lord said, “Hear what the unrighteous judge says. 7 And will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? 8 I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

Always Pray & Do Not Lose Heart

When every moment becomes an opportunity for praise or surrender,

and each moment of frustration becomes a moment to say “Help me, Lord”.

When every good and precious gift becomes a “Thank you, Father”,

and the witness of beauty turns to His praises on our lips.

When we seek Him first, above all things,

and prayers are lifted from expectant hearts.

When the desires of our heart are whispered in the dark, trusting that God can and hoping that He will—

This is faith.

…

In the parable of the persistent widow, Jesus begins by telling his disciples to not lose heart. To look to God, and remember Him. To allow His faithfulness to carry us through the waiting, and to keep on presenting our requests to Him as we do. Through this story, we are taught to cling to the cloak of he who walks beside us along the narrow road, the one who knows the trials we will face in this life. Following the example of the persistent widow, we are encouraged to keep on knocking on the gates of heaven with faith that God will hear us when we cry out to Him, and to not grow weary as we await His response.

When we remember upon whose door we’re knocking, faith becomes a natural response, and our prayer lives are transformed because we come not just for gifts and miracles, but for the presence of Jesus.

Yet, if we were honest about our relationship with prayer, many would confess losing heart seems more consistent than emboldened faith. As we seek God, we grow discouraged quickly because we forget who we’re talking to.

We mutter one word in disbelief, then shut our hearts away – afraid to get our hopes up, even in the presence of the One who promises living and eternal hope. Or we’ve stopped seeking Him altogether because we wonder if He even cares. If we were honest, we would say we’re afraid of the despair that may come from disappointment and grief if a prayer isn’t answered, so we’d rather not try at all. Jesus isn’t naive to the weariness in our hearts, or our shaky faith.

Jesus knows the struggles we face in persistent prayer; this is why he begins with the words always pray and do not lose heart in the story of the persistent widow. From this parable, there is much to learn.

Do remember this woman wasn’t just anyone. She was a widow. We don’t know how fresh that heartbreak is when we meet her in this story, but if you’ve lost someone dear to you, you intimately know the weight of grief. We meet her assuredly in one of the hardest trials of her life, which makes her endurance for justice all the more challenging for us. People would’ve understood her falling into despair, but that’s not what we see. We don’t see her throw in the towel. We see her fight harder.

We see deep seated,

desperate,

dependent,

wholehearted,

resilient faith.

Through this widow’s heartache, her cries for justice only got louder.

And after great knocking, her requests were granted, but in the midst of her suffering, perseverance and resilience was born in her.

What if we reframed our understanding of the waiting not as God’s reluctance, but as a place of delay so that He can prepare us?

The Righteous Judge, Our Faithful Father

Will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night?

An unrighteous judge, careless toward men and disregarding of God, brings about the desired justice of the persistent widow. If even he can grant the hopeful outcome of justice against her adversary, how much more will God, who is moved by honest faith and compassion, respond to the earnest prayers of His sons and daughters? Not always are our prayers answered in the ways we would hope, but we can be certain that they are heard by Our Father in Heaven as we cry out day and night.

Prayers like this begin with promise.

They who pray unceasingly know the God to whom they call out.

The persistent widow, brutal in her pursuits of her heart’s hope and desire, was granted the justice she asked for. She was relentless in her asking, seeking, and knocking. How much more does God desire to show you who He is as Righteous Judge, and Faithful Father?

Speedily he comes, says verse eight.

I know many hearts that are aching with grief or sorrow. I know of many minds pondering the questions, “does God even care?” and “if He is good, then why could this be happening?” None of us are immune to the brokenness of this world. We don’t even need to go beyond our own hearts to see it. As we linger in these questions and don’t get the answers we’re looking for, we grow discouraged. Our hearts can become calloused toward God, but there is another way – one strengthened by a gaze transfixed on the beauty of the Lord, trusting Him to be our help in times of trouble.

Let God’s Character Inform Your Prayers

God is like the unjust judge, but in so many ways unlike him too. Where this judge was careless toward men, God cares deeply.

Where this judge was reluctant to grant this woman’s request, God comes speedily. He loves to answer prayers, and is for us, not against us. Where some of our prayers may be postponed, they are surely not forgotten by the Lord.

God is a righteous judge of good moral character – He is trustworthy and just – and He is a faithful father who cares for His children.

As we boldly approach the throne of grace, this is the king whose courts we are in.

Related to prayer and our seeking of God, I begin to wonder:

What are the prayers of your heart? Where has it been broken, and tempted toward hopelessness? Where are you awaiting breakthrough?

What are the unmet expectations or yet-to-come-to-pass dreams that have led to disappointment in your life? Where are you waiting to see God move?

This widow knew who she was talking to. She knew this judge had the power to bring her justice; she had full faith in who he was, and the power he had to grant her request. His position informed her actions. But even he doesn’t have access to the power and authority of Christ. Not even a judge of the highest standing in this world can compare to him. There is none other like him. When we pray, we seek the presence of the one whose thoughts are not our thoughts and whose ways are not our ways.

As we pray, let not our circumstances shape our prayers, but God’s character. Let not our prayers begin with problems, but God’s promise.

If we are to ask how to respond to this parable, let’s first begin here: seek the Lord’s presence and ask Him to reveal His heart to you. Let Him show you that in His presence, your hope and faith is safe to rest.

Faith Stirs the Heart of Christ

At the end of this parable, there is an awe catching question to close: when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth? (Luke 18:8).

Time and time again in the Scriptures, we see great faith move Jesus to heal and restore. In this story, the message is no different.

If Christ returned today, would he find faith in you?

Would he find you believing for things only God could do here on earth? Would he find you calling out to him day and night – even in your deepest sorrows, even in your darkest night, even in the Valley of the Shadow of Death? What about on your best days?

Will Christ find wholehearted, pure and wondrous love for Him in you?

As we pray and seek the heart of the Father, we become intimately acquainted with the one to whom we present our requests. We catch His heart for us, and it changes everything. Our faith is transformed as we behold Jesus, and it begins with love.

When we persevere through disappointment, grief, doubt, and frustration that comes, bowing before the Father with desperation for the only One who can provide what our hearts and souls ache for, on the other side we see a faith richer and deeper than before.

This is what he hopes to find in you and me when he comes again.

Bold, persistent, fighting-tooth-and-nail-to-believe-in-the-goodess-of-God faith. Faith like Mary, the bleeding woman, the centurion, and the persistent widow.

How do we get there?

Ask yourself earnestly where you lose heart in prayer, and ask for Jesus’ help.

Then, knock on the door with expectation.

Get your hopes up.

Believe that God will come through because He cares for you. He desires to reveal Himself to His children.

When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?

I sure hope so. I hope He sees every tribe, every nation, and every tongue gathering together in worship and praise of Him. But for now, my hope is that great faith starts with you, and that it starts with me.

Our God is anything but ordinary. He is awesome and wonderful and holy and pure. He cares deeply for His children, and our faith inclines His ear toward our cries. Prayers whispered and wept in the deepest of night move the heart of the Father, and when surrendered to His will, who knows what God will do with prayers spoken through mustard seed faith.

If we want to have faith like the persistent widow, we must regularly return to the well of living water, and feast and drink in the presence of the Almighty. We must behold Jesus, remembering the cross he bore for us and the throne upon which he now sits. As we know him deeper, and as we endure trials with him as our strength, our faith will grow.

May we approach Jesus’ throne with boldness and confidence, with fear and trembling, and with honor and reverence for all that He is.

In him and through him, we will have all that we need to ask, seek, and knock with persistence. He gives us the strength to wait with patient endurance. In our weakness, His power is made perfect.

When we remember who God is, persistence in faith-filled prayer will become a natural response.

May the Lord restore your faith and hope again. May your prayers begin with the promises of God. May you not grow weary, but may you cling to Christ as you cry out to Him day and night.

May the unanswered prayers, unmet expectations, and unfulfilled desires draw you closer to the Lord as you wait, and may your persistence move the heart of God to heal, restore, reconcile, deliver you and those you love.

May His grace go before you and may His love cover you. May you take his yoke upon you and learn from him. May you come to know Him as your Shepherd and the God of your Miracle.

May you see the God of the Impossible move in your life and in your heart.

When the Son of Man comes, may he find great faith in you.
Jesus Chose the Cross

February 12th, 2025

In Psalm 51, David asks God to restore the joy of his salvation.

It got me wondering: how often do we live recognizing our need for restoration? How many times do we come to God, and say I need you? How often, instead, do we forget the joy of a unified life in Jesus?

When we read the story of David, we see that he intimately knew what God desired from His people: worship, adoration, and praise. He knew what God gave in return: life abundant, radiant joy, and eternal communion.

David was called a man after God’s own heart. Yet, he still found himself asking God to remind him of the wonder of salvation.

David’s petition for a renewed joy tells me that even the most faithful followers of Christ are vulnerable to living halfheartedly. We forget, like the people of Israel, that God is good and beautiful and kind. This is the meaning and the importance of daily bread: to come to God, so He can remind us who He is and what we’re made for. So He can restore our memory of the cross, and in turn, the joy of our salvation in Jesus.

…

If I’m honest, often I find myself trying to prove something to those around me, to myself or to God, thinking that I don’t already have all that I need. That I have to go looking for something I don’t already have because somehow the cross wasn’t enough already (it was). I wear myself thin trying to make God proud, but fail to remember that He’s already here with me.

Other times, I’m running so fast through life that I don’t pause and savor the joy of abundant life in Jesus. I love him dearly, but in my broken humanity, I forget. At times, I live half-awake, in a slumber, focused on all the wrong tasks at hand. Meanwhile, God is waiting for me to approach His throne of grace, and delight in His immanence.

God sent His one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. This salvation can’t be taken away, but we can live in such a way that is quiet about Christ’s worthiness and holiness. Eternal life through Jesus has serious implications for the lives that we get to live, but we don’t always act like it. Some days, when we ask for it, the wonder of the cross wakes us up from our slumber and helps us live with purpose and meaning, in unity with God. Other days, our awe runs dormant. We don’t come and feast, and instead of holy remembrance, we forget our King. Oh how this grieves Christ’s heart.

But what if those days that we forget can be the moments where we come to God like David, praying that instead, he would restore our joy, repenting for our forgetfulness, and asking Him to redeem it?

…

I had a moment like that this week as I read Luke 4.

As I read the events that transpired after Jesus spent 40 days fasting in the wilderness, I became overwhelmed with awe; I am astounded by Jesus’ faithfulness and resilience. I know He is the Son of Man – sinless, spotless, and perfect, sent by God – but it never ceases to amaze me that he, too, was human.

He wrestled with hunger like we do; he was tempted in every way that we are, and yet did not sin. As the enemy tried to convince Jesus that his way was better than God’s, that Jesus could have all the power God promised to Him without the cross – by bowing down and worshipping Satan instead – Jesus stood firm in resistance. Every time, he proclaimed truth over the temptations of the enemy, and willfully chose the cross instead.

The enemy gave Jesus the opportunity to forfeit his obedience which drew him to the point of death on a cross, but he never did. He saw you, and me, and the third and fourth generation, and he chose the cross. He was faithful because He knew the God who sent Him, and the eternal glory that awaited us through his blood. Jesus saw our sin and our brokenness, knowing the ways we would fall short of the glory of God, and he chose the cross.

Why would someone willfully die a death they didn’t deserve? Jesus wanted us to know God; he made a way so that we could.

As Jesus knelt down in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before his arrest, praying with such agony that his sweat pooled with blood, he prayed that God would take this cup from him. Yet in the same breath, Jesus concluded by praying yet not my will, but yours be done.

He accepted his fate because He trusted the one who spoke it.

…

In a Sunday gathering, I recently shared this scripture and these thoughts for a Call to Worship, and was thinking about friends and loved ones who might hear about the joy of salvation, and not resonate with that. I know plenty of people who are deep in grief and sorrow, wrestling with questions about God’s goodness, faithfulness, and protection. But what I would want for them in a season like that, more than anything, is for them to remember the deep love that sent Jesus to the cross for them. Maybe the joy of salvation looks more like clinging to hope for a time.

To simply remember that Jesus reconciled us back to God through his own suffering.

Not just in spite of someone’s circumstances, but amidst them, I would hope and pray that even there, in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, they would be able to experience the joy of salvation because if there’s anyone in this world who could understand the depths of their own suffering, it’s Jesus.

I waited patiently for the LORD;

He inclined to me and heard my cry.

He lifted me up from the pit of despair,

out of the miry clay;

He set my feet upon a rock,

and made my footsteps firm.

He put a new song in my mouth,

a hymn of praise to our God.

This is where we find the joy of our salvation in Jesus – by living in communion with our Father in Heaven all the days of our lives and allowing Him to remind us who He is, who we are, and what Jesus did for us on the cross.

The gift of eternal life doesn’t start when we die; it begins the moment we put our trust in God.

May we come to God for our daily bread, with expectation that he’ll restore our hope and joy in the process. May we live with deep, grateful love for Jesus, remembering that because of what he’s done for us, nothing can separate us from the love of God.

We don’t have to spend our days away from God any longer; we can come to Him at all times, in every way. This is a miracle. This is the good news. This is the joy of our salvation: being with God forever.

May we live wide awake to the wonder and beauty of the cross Jesus bore for us.

May we remember him, keeping the miracle of Jesus’ birth, life, death and resurrection at the forefront of our minds.

May our daily waking prayer be this: Lord, restore the joy of my salvation. Help me to live this gifted life with gratitude and awe, knowing the price Jesus paid so that I could.
life is a gift

January 29th, 2025

I’ve learned the hard way that what we may believe to be a guarantee is actually a gift in this life. I’ve spiraled over frustrations and entitlements thinking, I deserved more. And yet, the very thing I thought I was entitled to was something I couldn’t earn or deserve in the first place. What I thought to be a guarantee or a right, instead was a gift.

All of life is, really.

True friendships – the kind that stick around even when they’ve seen the ugly parts of you – are a gift. Jobs that we love (with coworkers we enjoy) are a gift. Open doors that feel miraculous, dreams fulfilled, expectations met, falling in love, that love ending in marriage, good health, having children, growing old –

all the good and beautiful things in this life are a gift. So, too, can be the tears and the heartache if we’re brave enough to face them.

Why does it matter if we see them as so?

The way we regard all the tiny little miracles influences how we carry them, and how open handed we are if we lose them. When we feel entitled to something, we can be proud while we have it, and bitter once we’ve lost it. When we see gifts as gifts, our hearts can’t help but be grateful. We cherish them while we have them, and sing songs of thanksgiving even if we’ve lost them because we recognize we didn’t do anything to deserve their coming into our lives in the first place.

When we realize whatever we have is a gift, we cherish it. We hold it close – not with idolatry, but a spirit of praise. When we see our loved ones as gifts, we’re more present to them. We give and receive freely because we see their presence in our lives as blessings, not burdens or entitlements. We recognize that for as long as we know them, they deserve our gratitude, attention and affections.

Because Jesus bore our sins in his body, we have everything we could ever need. His sacrificial love changes the way we carry our gifts and blessings. We don’t need to go looking for satisfaction or provision in other places because we already have it in Him. No other friendship, relationship, or blessing can compare to the weight of His glory. If we try to place anything else in the highest position in our lives, we’ll become disappointed every time. Relationships, jobs, families, dreams, and the like were never meant to fill that kind of space, even though we try and try again. Jesus alone can handle the weight of being our reason for living because the price he paid was a gift to us given in absolution, and everything after it is an added blessing from a Good Father who gives good gifts. He can carry the weight of our expectations, hopes, and dreams because he carried the weight of the cross for all of humanity already.

When God sits on His rightful throne, all the people, places, and opportunities where we would once try to satisfy our longings can become exactly what they’re meant to be. Our gifts get to be gifts – ones that we cherish, free from pressure and grasping, discontent and entitlement.

…

I have felt more acquainted with bitterness in my heart than thanks at times, and the root of this is usually feeling entitled to something from someone. When I haven’t received what I think I deserve, I grow frustrated, and stop seeing life through the lens of the gospel. I stop seeing the gifts in my life as gifts.

Recently, the Lord opened my eyes to see how I have taken blessings for granted – wrestling with contentment, regularly trying to skip ahead to the next thing rather than delighting in the present moment. I’ve ruined the here and now by wondering where I was headed next. I have thought I was entitled to certain things from others, and have created deep chasms in some of those relationships as a result. I, too, have improperly stewarded joy, and I don’t think I’m the only one.

So many of us are tired and weary, discouraged and doubting. So many of us feel lost and confused, or like we’re on the wrong path. We’re disgruntled in relationships because we’re hoping for more, or not getting what we want. We’re searching in all the wrong places for our satisfaction, and our peace and joy are threatened because of it. I can’t help but think gratitude and delight in our Father (or the lack thereof) has much to do with that.

We’ve forgotten that nothing is guaranteed. We’ve forgotten where to find true rest and peace. We’ve forgotten how to give and receive freely.

Through this wrestling in my own heart, I’ve realized how often we overlook the wonders of this life. I’ve missed miracles because instead of relishing in the beauty of the present, and thanking God for what I have, I’ve daydreamed my way into uncertain futures. In many ways, this is where I find myself now, and the Lord has been inviting me to just be here now. Not in a hurry to figure it all out, or get that thing I want, but to just be present to this current moment. Maybe you need to hear that, too.

Why is it so easy to forget that Jesus is God With Us, life is beautiful just as it is, and there are blessings here and now, not just in the one day?

…

A mentor used to say the ultimate gift was Jesus on the cross, and everything else after that is just an added bonus, a gift to be cherished. Whenever she said this, I remember the tension in my spirit as I rattled off all the desires and dreams I had for my life. What about marriage? What about parenthood? What about making music, and writing a book? What about having a house that feels like home, where I get to grow old? What about seeing the world?

Some of the deepest heartaches in my life have been the very things to help me realize none of those hopes are guaranteed, but even still, I have all that I need. If none of those dreams ever come to pass, Jesus is still enough for me.

Does this mean we stop dreaming, or planning, or praying, or choosing? By no means. Dreaming is a beautiful act of hope and faith – one we would do well to partake in more. Planning, too, is good stewardship. But the fulfillment of every single goal, aspiration, hope and dream isn’t proof of a good God. We have all that we need in Jesus to know that He is. All the rest is added blessing from a God of abundance.

…

The reality of knowing God, and knowing His love for us, is that many dreams do come to pass. He came for life abundant, and God loves watching His children delight in the beauty of His creation. People fall in love, and build beautiful families. They watch their kids grow up, and dream big dreams, too. Marriages last, and people grow old together. Mustard seed hopes and dreams become reality. But equally so, prayers go unanswered, and hopes are left unfulfilled.

That’s the tension of living today and awaiting the completion of Christ’s restorative work here on Earth through his second arrival.

We have and we have not.

If the gratitude we had for our lives rested on whether or not we get everything we want or hoped for, we would miss out on a lot. We’d forego delighting in life’s little pleasures, and wonders of the world. The morning quiet, the shared laughter, the simple meals around secondhand tables, and the milestones we forget to measure.

All that we have, and all that we are waiting for, are gifts from a God who loves us and cares not only about the desires of our hearts, but the transformation of them too. It would be a shame if we never realized how blessed we are to just know and be known by God, and to count all the rest as their own little miracles until He calls us home.

A Holy Undeserving

Life is a gift because we didn’t deserve it in the first place. We deserved the cross. But we’re here, raised to new life in Jesus, saved by His grace, and as a result we are invited to cherish this one wild and precious life we’ve been given. To honor God and glorify Him. To let every word and every deed be done in the name of Jesus. Through him, we are commissioned to live life abundantly, believing him wholeheartedly when He says He came so that we could have life to the full.

…

Time after time, God has had to wake me up to His grace again, and the giftedness of life with Him. By loving and losing, I’ve learned how easily we take our greatest blessings for granted, but I don’t want to do that anymore. Maybe you, reader, would like to join me in the pursuit of gratitude and praise for all that this life has to offer – for as long as we have it.

May we live with open hands, and a grateful heart – not in a way that dismisses pain and sorrow, but that fights for joy amidst it.

May we celebrate the little things like they’re the big things (because they are).

May we go looking for satisfaction and wholeness in Jesus, rather than from people and places that can never properly provide, so that they can be cherished and valued in the ways that honors them and God.

May we dream. May we plan. May we have eyes to see the miracles all around us.

Life is a gift. May we see it as so.

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6
how do I know if it’s God?

January 5th, 2025

If someone were to ask you how you discern the voice of God, what would you say?

In order to know God’s guidance, we have to know His voice. We have to know what He cares about.

As we pray, we begin to wonder: how do I know if it’s God?

Knowing begins with the truths of scripture: God steadies us. He speaks life and peace. He encourages the coming of His kingdom, and the promotion of compassion, mercy, and justice. God amplifies voices of the marginalized, invites us to trust Him in the unseen, and speak up in wrongdoing. God draws near to the brokenhearted, and reminds us He is the one thing we need. God calls us out to places where we must depend on Him, and where His wisdom becomes the very thing we cling to.

As we come to know the Word of God, we begin to wonder how this applies to our own lives now. Many of us give up before we ever find out, but the vitality of our faith relies upon our knowing of God – of His voice, His heart, and His will. Slowly, as we seek Him earnestly, we come to know what God sounds like, and how His heart beats.

Is He calling me to this city, or that one? Is He calling me to go, or to stay? Is He calling me to move, or to wait? Should I pursue this relationship, or that one, or none at all?

The gift of discernment is the ability to distinguish between wisdom and folly. Through it, we’re able to understand and apply God’s Word, see things through His eyes, and develop insights that go far beyond what is seen and heard in the natural. We develop discernment by walking with the Good Shepherd, studying His Word, and meditating on it day and night.

In the abstract, this makes some sense. What about when the lines are a bit blurred? What about when His voice seems quiet? How do we know what to do then?

Many Faithful Options

Discernment is not always so easy when varying options seem “good”, or when we fear there is a “wrong” decision to make.

This is always where I’ve gotten stuck, and maybe you have too. In recent years, when I’ve hit crossroads for big life decisions, like moving to a new city or accepting a job, deciding what church I want to call home, etc I’ve grown paralyzed in the discerning process. I thought there was a wrong decision I could make, and I somehow had the potential of colossally messing up God’s plan for my life if I chose the wrong one. Have you ever been there?

Sometimes, the path is clear. But often, the moment calls for walking by faith not by sight.

God doesn’t stay quiet because He’s waiting for us to make the wrong move. He wants us to seek Him. He gives us room because God is not a puppeteer. He delights in our wholehearted pursuit, and our desires to do life with Him. While the church often teaches about calling as if there’s one title we are meant to hold in this life, the reality is, there are many assignments we can hold that please God and give Him glory. There is freedom to choose how we want to participate in the coming of God’s kingdom here on earth.

Many faithful options, I’ve been told. At times, this feels discouraging because we’re still left with questions. This or that, God?

What if He’s less of an either/or, and more of a both/and God?

At a crossroads, I’ve often prayed that God would just close a door and make it clear to me. Yet, the fruit comes when we rely on faith. Relinquishing my choice doesn’t always achieve that end, nor does it teach me how to trust the Lord in the unseen. By practicing discernment in the little things, we learn how to rely on God through life’s greater questions.

This still leaves us wondering: how?

In Philippians, Paul tells us to put on the mind of Christ. To adopt Jesus’ attitudes and thoughts. To say what he would say, and to act as he would act. Decision making isn’t black or white, but by learning the person of Jesus and spending time with him, we’re able to discover how he would show up in our circumstance. As we adopt the mind of Christ, we learn how to exercise our faith and trust in Him with all our heart, soul, mind and strength. This is why knowing the truths of scripture is the first step. We know God because we know the person of Jesus; our discernment will always begin there.

What if we have the knowledge; we just don’t know what to do with it?

The Narrow Way

Someone asked me once how I know when God is calling me to something. I said two things.

The first was, usually it’s hard. The second was, I follow peace.

These aren’t hard and fast rules, but one thing is certain: God’s way is narrow, and those who find it are few. While God is not hard to find, His way can feel costly and difficult. Obedience asks something of us; it drew Jesus himself to death on a cross. Jesus asks us, too, to die to self, and surrender our preferences. To say not my will, but yours alone.

God’s way asks us to depend on Him, and grow in ruthless trust in the One who holds it all together. If our pursuit of comfort and safety trumps our desire to love and serve God, we may have lost sight of our shepherd. The invitation, then, is to return. To press in a littler harder. To surrender what’s holding us back, and find true peace, joy and satisfaction in the Lord alone.

As you pray for wisdom, ask yourself: Does this feel like a no because it’s not right, or because I’m afraid?

Follow Peace

The second thing I said was that God leads me in peace. In Psalm 91, we are told that under the shadow of His wings we will find refuge. In Philippians 4, Paul writes that the peace of God transcends our human understanding, and guards our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Peace is a promise God keeps. It marks His presence in our lives in our hearts, our minds, and our bodies. Having intentionally crafted us as embodied souls, God can use our bodies to speak to us. When we pray for wisdom, the knots in our stomach or the indescribable ease that washes over us can help guide us. Yet, for many of us, this is the extent of our discernment. Do I have peace? Here, we must proceed with caution. Our thoughts are not His thoughts, nor are His ways our ways.

One of the most challenging insights I read last year was the idea that we sometimes mistake psychology for theology. Sometimes we feel the rattle in our bones, the butterflies in our heart, and the doubt in our minds and take them as a sign when they aren’t one. I have always relied on the question of peace, but have been so convicted in recent months because there’s more to it than that.

Scripture tells us to go and to stay. It tells us to act and to wait. It records God’s command to Moses, telling him to be still, and know that I am God, and chronicles God’s desire to have a willing servant, to which Isaiah shouts, here am I; send me. When we go looking for answers, we may rely on our own preferences, comforts, and fears more than we realize. That’s why we must search deeper than our own hearts, into the depths of the kingdom where Jesus reigns, not so we can simply make a decision that doesn’t cause our anxiety to go haywire, but so we can make a wise and faithful one.

Sometimes those nerves, or the ease within us, mean something. Other times, they’re our natural wirings creating noise along the way. When we pray, God helps us decide what to hold onto and what to let go of.

Feeling anxiety the day you propose doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the wrong decision.

Not feeling butterflies on a first date doesn’t necessarily mean they’re wrong for you.

Being afraid of taking a risk doesn’t necessarily mean you should play it safe.

Not being afraid doesn’t necessarily mean you should do it.

Not having your dream job yet doesn’t mean you’re on the wrong path.

Being bad at something doesn’t mean you’ll never figure it out.

A no right now doesn’t mean it always will be.

While there are times our bodily responses and discernment are in alignment, psychology and theology can conflict, too. When we come to the feet of Jesus, with open hands, entrusting Him with a yes or a no (and with faith and obedience to see it through), we can make sense of the puzzle pieces that lay before us.

With God’s help, we can make decisions that further His kingdom and fight for truth, justice, and mercy. Ones that bring peace and joy, and that draw us into greater reliance and trust.

Follow peace, but be mindful that sometimes the will of God comes in a way you wouldn’t expect. Sometimes it feels scary or illogical. Sometimes it feels hard or wrong because it costs you something. Other times, it feels hard or wrong because it is.

As you pray for wisdom, ask yourself: What asks me to depend more deeply on God? What exercises my faith and trust in Him?

What asks you to leave comfort behind and frees your hands up to cling to the cloak of Jesus?

This is the way; walk in it

Isaiah 30:21 says, Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it’. Here, we find God’s promise of guidance. Fear not the threat of being led astray; a heart surrendered always has a lamp unto its feet. What I have found so freeing about this scripture is that whether we turn to the left or to the right, God will be with us.

So often, we just want to hear the audible voice of God tell us exactly what we should do. Sometimes, God’s grace goes before us like this with an open or closed door. Often, it doesn’t. What He gives us instead is a far greater gift: whispers of truth and encouragement that strengthen our faith to walk boldly and confidently toward one faithful option.

God is much less concerned with our yes’s and no’s, and much more preoccupied with the matters of our heart. He wants to transform us from the inside out, not just simply have us do something for Him. As we go about our decisions, we would be wise to search our own hearts, too. Is selfish ambition, pride, or deceit informing us? What about humility, compassion, and service? Are we shrinking away from something in fear, or going forth with boldness of faith? There lies the lesson, and the invitation.

Who are you becoming if you give this your yes?

If something grows you more into a person of love, it’s probably a good decision. If, either way, you are challenged to trust God in faith, then there may not be a wrong choice. The hard part is making a decision confidently without hearing or seeing God clearly. As we throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles us, we come to see a Father – in perfect love – casting out fear and delighting in us, even as we stumble and fall.

With Jesus, we’re invited into a journey. Life and its many turns is meant to sharpen us, and make us more like him. It’s meant to teach us how to endure in long-suffering. To learn God’s way, and walk in it. To delight in the beauty of the Lord, and choose Him above all our other loves. We’re invited to walk the narrow way, where there remains many faithful options.

It’s a beautiful thing (if we let it be) to sit in the tension of seeking but not yet finding. To not know for certain, but to have faith in the One who will catch us if we fall. Taking a risk and stepping through doors we believe God has opened is a wonderful use of our free will.

Wrestle with God. Ask, seek and knock.

As you do, know that discernment is not just about knowing what decision to make, but trusting God amidst the uncertainty.

Don’t grow weary in your wondering. The Father is with you.