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Nothing that we despise in other men is inherently absent from ourselves. We must learn to regard people less in the light of what they do or don't do, and more in light of what they suffer. Dietrich Bonhoeffer Empathy is in trouble these days. I've noticed a trend of suspicion around the topic and a lot of shots are being fired at those who practice empathy or see it as a godly practice. In these times of polarization and conflict, it's getting easier and easier to engage in friendly fire over increasingly stupid things. Things like empathy. Did you know that being empathetic puts you at risk of becoming a bible abandoning progressive? To some, this is a real concern. And maybe this is a concern. So let's think about it. First let's define it. Because empathy and compassion are extremely similar but they each have a different emphasis. However they both attempt to care for and respond to a person's feelings and suffering. Empathy endeavors to enter into and understand the feelings, while compassion tries to feel them and make the pain go away . Ultimately they are two sides of the same coin. In essence to practice both empathy and compassion would be to obey Paul in Romans 12:15, " Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep," and Galatians 6:2, "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ." And to fully understand 1 Corinthians 12:26, "If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together." Uh oh, does this make Paul a progressive? Of course not. So what's the problem? It's true that in our current era progressives tend to profess and preach the need for empathy more than those in the church. It's also true that those in the church that talk about it's importance often drift progressive. And in doing so, some have accepted an onslaught of sinful behaviors and perspectives in order to care for people. They think that in order to placate all their feelings they must call bad things good. Which, in turn, denegrate's parts of the church and undermines the authority of Scripture. This has fostered a posture in some that any disagreement or negative encounter with another person could be deemed as abusive or hateful. Which is silly. And I agree whole-heartedly that this is an untenable and toxic way to live. In no way, should we encourage or model that kind of self-centered living. Nor do I believe it is loving to never address sin. Here's the question though, what came first? Was it empathy that created this problem? Or is it possible, that it was the lack of it? And is it also possible, that to live without empathy is equally self-centered? Here's what I mean. Whether we like it or not, the church hasn't had a particularly great reputation of being compassionate to sufferer's in recent history. I could make a much better argument for christians being compassionate in the early church as they evaluated godliness by 7 marks of charity: 1) feeding the hungry; 2) giving water to the thirsty; 3) clothing the naked; 4) sheltering travelers; 5) caring for the sick; 6) ransoming the imprisoned; and 7) providing burial for the dead. But the 20th and 21'st century? It's tough. Unfortunately our recent church history is less known for the above and more known for our sexual abuse scandals, prosperity preoccupation, racism, political idolatry and prideful selfish ambition. Has the church done any recent good? Yes, of course. Quiet charity and good shepherding continues. Yet, it's been a scandalous and complicit time for the western church that has created an onslaught of victims, which I believe, has driven suffering people into the empathetic arms of progressives. And they went there because we failed them. As the all too terrible analogy goes, the church bus has driven over many, leaving a trail of bodies behind it, as it barrels towards it's own vision of glorious self-made revival and prosperity. What happen's to the bodies left behind? Often, they're ignored, exiled and offered little understanding or care. Is this not the greater concern? How prevalent it is that our current church models chew up and spit out people at alarming rates? I mean, our reputation in the larger culture is in the gutter. And we put it there. Do we really understand that yet? The progressive's didn't stain our reputation. Us church folk's did. Church leaders who lost the plot and forgot that the ministry of the church is not about power and influence or fame and productivity but about the humble task of washing feet, making disciples, feeding and caring for the sheep, serving the poor and loving our neighbor. We've made church life about big numbers, perfect lighting, slick videos, trendy branding and emotional experiences above being still and knowing God. And when we model and practice a faith that is all about a look of godliness without the sacrificial actions of godliness, than we mimic the compassionless and hypocritical example of the pharisees. We act as they did; never stepping into the muck of peoples real lives to offer care - never breaking our smooth methods in order to address the sick. You want to know the real reason we're allergic to empathy? It's because in order to practice it you absolutely must slow down and step outside of yourself. Empathy and compassion is inherently self-sacrificing. And thats a pain in the butt when you've got things to do and places to go. When you have a tight schedule, filled with important tasks and ambitious goals. Putting all that business on pause in order to enter in to someones grief and pain is kind of annoying. Where's the productivity in that? And what if that person has a problem with me? That's even worse! In turn, what christians end up asking suffering people to do is toughen up, stop being such a baby, pull up them bootstraps and get on with it. This has been the prevailing evangelical message of the day. Don't be a snowflake - empathy is weak - get on with it. But I believe, had we practiced empathy and compassion as Paul teaches to begin with, the church wouldn't be bleeding people into the safety of progressivism. Had we been self-sacrificing and not self-centered, we wouldn't have modelled to the sheep to do the same. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. ~ Philippians 2:3 Now we find ourselves in a place where we have to undo the problems we've created. And to blame the overuse of empathy as being the culprit to church problems is like blaming a child for the parents divorce. Not only does it not live in reality, it's a careless diagnosis of ourselves and our trouble with sin. It's lazy discernment. Which is unacceptable. To discern takes work. It requires parsing it out; slowing down, and looking at the whole picture. Personally, the vast majority of the ministry folks I have known openly admit that compassion is a weakness. Although this is anecdotal evidence, it still begs the question, is empathy really a legitimate problem? I don't think so. I think we are. As always, our sin is the issue here. Our pride, our impatience, our idols. When we fail to be like our Father in Heaven, who is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love (Psalm 145:8), then the people in our care go find love somewhere else. When we fail to be like Christ who is not a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses (Hebrews 4:15), we chase people away from Christ. And why? Because we're scared of being - gasp - progressive? No. Instead to live like Jesus is to see people as he saw them. Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness.  When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.  Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few.   Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.” ~ Matthew 9:35-38 If we long to be workers of the harvest, doing the work of God, we must understand that the work is broken people. Souls! Stained, difficult, weak, sinful souls. It's loving, caring for, bearing patiently with, having compassion on, being gracious to, wayward, helpless sheep who are desperate for a shepherd. If we did as Bonhoeffer tells us we should do - to regard people in light of what they suffer - we would do as Jesus did. And in doing so, we'd humanize people beyond their potential for productivity or beyond the ways they can serve our purposes. We'd treat them as image-bearers first, and provide them with loving arms attached to minds that obey the Lord. And then maybe, just maybe, no self-centered church bus would run them over and force them to go looking for care somewhere else. What a shame it would be if we handed empathy and compassion over to progressives and called it theirs. Instead, we ought to reclaim it and finally practice it as Jesus did in the most ultimate way, when he became flesh - literally entering our feelings and pain - died the death we deserve, and suffered for us, so that we wouldn't have to. There is no better example of an empath, than our suffering Saviour Jesus Christ. And he's not a progressive; he's God.

For in grief nothing "stays put." One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral? But if a spiral, am I going up or down it? How often -- will it be for always? -- how often will the vast emptiness astonish me like a complete novelty and make me say, "I never realized my loss till this moment"? The same leg is cut off time after time. C.S Lewis ~ A Grief Observed I started writing about grief months ago. I was taking my time reading and feeling, remembering and taking in the layers of it. And then out of nowhere I found myself not just learning and remembering, but actually enveloped in it once again. It's as though I've been unintentionally preparing for this. Despite my rigorous training for months, here I am, getting beat up by it. I suppose, thats grief, isn't it. There is no good grief. By definition it's roots are in misery. When the breakers of mourning wash over the soul there is really nothing that can prepare you for the hit. Try as we might. We can be well-versed in the Psalms and Lamentations and all the many scriptures that express and warn about suffering. We can know that we must cling to the life-raft of the gospel. We can anticipate the pain and work spiritual muscles in preparation. Yet even so, the shock, the whiplash, the seering pain and dazed disorientation will inevitably break over us and send us falling. There is no getting around it. This is how it g oes. And then after the hit, everything afterwards is different. Forever. As C.S Lewis describes, the waves of grief don't "stay put". Unfortunatly for us, that first blow is just the beggining of griefs cyclical nature. When we think of grief it mainly musters images of death and funerals - of tears and depressive behaviour mixed with a blend of up and down emotions. These feelings have even been layed out for us like a road map so we can make sure we're on the "right" path. First comes denial, then anger, followed by bargaining, which leads to depression, and then finally we get to the end - acceptance. Which is the place we all desire to get to. Because it implies, grief is now over. But is it really that simple? I think most would say no. No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing. At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. C.S Lewis ~ A Grief Observed Have you ever tried to leave the house and do something normal during a bout of sorrow? How strange it is to see people moving about their day without knowing the hurt going on inside you. The world still spins as usual even though your world seems to have fallen off its axis. The whole experience alters reality. This form of mental and physical disorientation is not formulaic or linear. We all know this. It's not something that only occures when someone dies and it's not something that finds a neat end in "acceptance". It can and does and will sit with us - forever. God bless Elisabeth Kubler-Ross for creating the now univerally used Five Stages Of Grief, but we must remember that she developed this model to help the people who are facing death. The ones who get a diagnosis that implies death is imminent - this is for their grief. It was never meant to help the sorrows of the people left behind. Knowing this should relieve us from misusing this model in an effort to help people. In fact perhaps we need a whole new paradigm for grief and grief care. Because it's just not so simple to go from one feeling to the next until you accept the loss. Because, do we ever really accept it? Some may. But I do believe most don't. And I'm not quite sure we're meant to. We were, after all, made for a garden with no tears and the never-ending presence of our heavenly Father. Accept we ruined that. Leaving many of us to walk around with emotional wounds that have been covered up with tersely expressed bandaids in order to get to a place of acceptance, so that we can finally, just finally, "move on" and "get over it". I'm getting ahead of myself though, because I think it's best to start with recognising what grief is and how it can be set off. We grieve death, of course. But grief comes with loss. And loss comes in many crestfallen packages. We grieve the loss of relationships or long held life goals, jobs or health, homes or experiences that have come to an end. Grief is an emotion. And at any given moment in a day you may feel it. Yet for some reason, western culture treats grief as though it is something we're supposed to be exposed to for a short season and then carry on. Yet, most of us don't experience it that way at all. Grief can be intense or it can be gentle. You probably wont grieve the loss of your pet in the same way you grieve the death of a parent or spouse. And the loss of a dream will manifest differently than the loss of a relationship. Grief shows up stronger based on the weight of the loss. But, it's all loss. Even though grief is a normal emotion we treat it like it's something to go through and get passed as quickly as possible. It's something to feel only for awhile until we reach acceptance and move on. We expect it to be temporary, and when it isn't, we think we're doing it wrong . I do believe we feel that way based on the impatience we feel from those around us. Because grief is uncomfortable. And no one knows how to deal with people in the middle of it. This is why its been religated to hushed spaces like church basements or a therapists office. Even worse we'd probably prefer that people stuff their pain so that it will never be heard of again. I think what this shows us is that we only really care about a person when their pain is already overcome, difficult feelings have been properly processed and life-lessons have been learned. Like Job's friends we can only handle the grief displayed for so long. And we figure if we quickly give all the right answers to a person they'll finally come out of their despair. But it doesn't work that way. We can't solve grief with the perfect mix of words. It's an ocean. In the beginning there are heavy freezing waves that bewilder the mind. Than the ocean calms and gives off the impression there will be no more billowing ripples. But even when it lies dormant you know the rain will fall again, the waves will be stirred up and the cold will return. I find it fascinating how quickly we want to jump to the positive when faced with someone experiencing deep sorrow. And although it comes from a loving place, it also comes from our own discomfort. Responding to someones tragedy with promises that something wonderful will come from it, is a way to assuage our own discomfort more than to comfort the person in pain. Because there are no promises implying that's even true. We don't know that someone getting a threatening health diagnosis will result in healing from the Lord and we don't know that someone who was laid off their job will get a better job somewhere else and we don't know if someone's death will result in meaningful growth for the people left behind. We just don't know. And some things we will never know. Some things will reak of meaninglessness until we come face to face with our maker one day (Ecclesiates 1:1-11). And until then we'll live wondering why. Why they died, why no justice, why the betrayal, why the diagnosis, why so much hardship, why the finanical burdens. Why? There are no easy answers. There are few sayings of comfort when the mourner is mourning. We know this, but we cease to practice it. How quickly we turn into Job's friends, desiring to rush the pain along. Explain it away. Get it gone. Because it's taking too long. And because the words of a sufferer can be too negative, not "faithful" enough or seem to question truths easily held by those not in pain - it makes us worry about the faith of the griever. Except it's not our role to correct them in their despair. Do you think that you can reprove words, when the speech of a despairing man is wind? ~ Job 6:26 Let their words be what they are - anguished expressions sent into the breeze. Don't get hung up on shakey theology, when those sentiments will likely be blown away. It's not the time for correction - it's the time for compassion. So what should we do with those grieving? Simple - just be there. Just show up and listen to the pain. No matter how uncomfortable it is. Nod. Cry. Sit. Bring a meal. Make a cup of coffee. Sweep the floor. Send a text. Send a card. Send flowers. Care. Recognize that your friends grief won't be this intense forever. But it will forever change them. Sure, they'll laugh again, and certianly they'll get up off the floor eventually. And they'll head back to work and life will carry on. But they will never be the same. None of us will return to being the exact same person we were before the loss. We will feel the missing piece for the rest of our lives. And that pain will inform the way we interact with the world around us forevermore. The road of sorrow has been well trodden, it is the regular sheep track to heaven, and all the flock of God have had to pass along it. ~ Charles Spurgoen Yet there are some things we know for sure. Which is that this is the road that takes us to heaven. This is the journey towards faithfully following our Saviour. Because our Saviour is a suffering one. He knows all too well the pains of this life and the sorrow that comes with it. And He is our path forward. If you are in the midst of grief today, recognize that although your mind and soul may be in the ocean, those depths find rest with the man of sorrows - acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3). This is Jesus. He was rejected and despised. He knew loss (John 11:33-35). He endured physical and mental anguish (Luke 23:26-32, Matt 26:36-46). And he suffered true betrayal, real injustice and death itself on the Cross (Matt 27). He is not a High Priest who doesn't understand our sorrow. Quite the opposite. He's more acquainted with it than we could ever be. And that suffering Saviour sit's with us in the waves with perfect compassion, abounding love and unfaultering grace. Our advocate and friend. In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,   neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. ~ Romans 8:37-39. It is Gods love for us that keeps us. It's His work on the Cross that protects us. We are conquerors only by proxy. These are verses to cling to when the pain gets deep. It will hold us fast. It can secure us under the crashing waves. But that doesn't mean the storm will stop. We must be patient with the grief in our souls and the pain in others. Unfortuntaly sorrows can't be forced away. As I write now, I wrestle with that reality. Truthfully, I've been attempting to muster myself past the sting. Not surprisingly, it's not working. And yet, I know that "forced away" pain just pop's up in more destructive ways. It shows up as outbursts of anger or unrelenting selfish ambition or numbed out apathy or destructive self-hate. It eats us up in worse ways than if we'd just allowed ourselves the space and time to feel and process the uncomfort of our loss. The ache of grief is meant to be felt. Even when you think you've moved passed it and it's been several years since the loss, still, out of nowhere the sting will pierce through our busy schedule and cause us to pause and feel it. Yes, it's inconvienient and taxing. But it's worth it. Because what or who we lost is worth it. The reason we encounter deep grief is because of our capacity for deep love. We don't grieve what we don't love. And that knowledge should give permission to express our mourning with tears and sorrow when that love goes away or changes forever. When we embrace the truth that mourning is an act of love, we allow ourselves to act in that love through grief with less guilt or need to rush it. We live more fully in our call to "do everything with love" (1 Cor 16:14), even our sorrow. We need patience under pain and hope under depression of spirit...Our God...will either make the burden lighter or the back stronger; he will diminish the need or increase the supply. ~ Charles Spurgeon There is no good grief. There is just grief placed in the hands of a good God. There is no shame in your sorrow. Express it, knowing its depths are an expression of love. There is no need to shove it down. Give it breath and then watch the wind take it. There is no time like today than to sit with the suffering. Endure the storm at their side. There is no other Saviour like ours. That in His anguish He called for our forgiveness. There is no other way through our sorrow, than to hold the man of sorrow's hand. And there will be an end. A perfect end in Christ. We'll return to the garden, where pain and tears cease to exist. It is one promise that holds true - that in the hereafter... " He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Rev 21:4). A note from the writer: This is the second of a three part series I'm doing on a Christian response to the undesirable experiences and feelings that comes with being a human in a broken world. In this series I'll be discussing Anxiety, Grief and Trauma. In no way will these writing's be a scholarly comprehensive work but more of a christian response on some of the hot-button and buzzy topics that are very real to all of us. These writing's endeavour to be devotional and written about from my own experience and through the lense of Scripture. I plan to handle with care. The first part of the series is titled "There Is No Shame In Your Anxiety".

I think there must be something wrong with me, Linus. Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy. I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel. ~ Charlie Brown In the classic animated television special, A Charlie Brown Christmas made by Charles M. Schulz, we see the very relatable character Charlie go on a journey to discover the true meaning of Christmas. Charlie talks to his friend Lucy and she implies that involvement is the key to enjoy Christmas and she encourages him to busy himself by directing the Children’s Christmas play. Charlie's little sister Sally reveals what she values at Christmas time, which is expensive gifts like real estate. The mere admission of this makes Charlie miserable. So Charlie becomes the director of the play, as Lucy suggested, only to find himself gloomy and wanting. Frustrated, Charlie leaves the other children to find a Christmas tree for the play with Linus. Upon arriving at the tree farm, all he sees are terrible, inauthentic tin trees that only seem to knock at the nagging feeling that nothing is real anymore. It’s all fake and performative. Everything, even tree’s, are just pretending. Until he sees one little tree. It’s pretty damaged but he likes it because at least it’s real. However, yet again, his friends don’t like his purchase and chastise him for his “stupid” choices. Feeling like a failure, as he always does, Charlie finally gives up. He shouts,"isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?" In comes Linus with the perfect Sunday school answer to dunk on all the other kids by quoting Luke 2. He recites the Christmas story in the most wonderfully sweet way, which makes Charlie Brown entirely satisfied and happy forever. Right? Not really. He walks away smiling with the words hanging in his head but ultimately Charlie still struggles. After trying in his own strength to reject commercialism and care for his tree, he fails again and pronounces that everything he touchs gets ruined. He's really done this time. For some reason after the Bible is read, he still can’t get a handle on his feelings - he still finds himself discouraged. Charlie is the embodiment of existential dread and confusion. Which is a state we all find ourselves in at some point. Fortunatley for Charlie, after a second look, his friends see what he saw all along. The tree isn’t so bad, it just needs a little love. And after they take time to love the tree with snoopy’s decorations, the tree becomes something beautiful. Charlie is shocked and amazed at the sight of his newly loved tree. This joy sparks them all to shout-sing in unison, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, in the most wonderful way. The end. Here's a question - why didn’t the story finish with Linus reciting Luke 2? Shouldn’t that have solved all of Charlie’s problems? In my opinion, I don’t think so. I believe the tree ending is perfect. Because it seems to be the more realistic way we actually learn lessons - once we've fully given up and come to the end of ourselves. The Word of God is so often made real to us when we encounter it incarnationally. When we see it's truth in the situations around us. And God is gracious to show us, if we’d just pay attention. Charlie got to see something broken be loved into beauty. It was a parable of the story Linus told earlier. And he got to see it with his own eyes. The tree is Charlie. And so are we. Because Christ came, the old can become new. The shattered can be restored. The humiliated can be glorified. The lost can be found. Charlie’s dreadful observations of the superficial people and things around him could finally find hope in the presence of a Saviour who came not for the healthy but the sick. He came to heal the broken and answer our questions of existential dread. Jesus see’s behind the facade’s we encounter all around us and He desires to reach behind the curtain and reveal the truth. The Savior turns wilted, bent and broken things like us into loved works of grace. This is His specialty. And it is good news of great joy for all people. And that is what Christmas is all about.

I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened. - Mark Twain As I sat in my son's nursery, rocking him while he fussed, emotional anguish engulfed me. A blubbering mess - anxiety filled my fragile soul. He was new to the world and I was new to motherhood. And neither of us were thriving in this newness. Deep affection poured out for the child in my arms and yet my soul was loud with pestering distress. The only natural thing I felt was the onslaught of unwelcome hormones rushing through my body. And anxiety. Lots of anxiety. So I rocked, and cried and sang. Be still, my soul; the Lord is on thy side; bear patiently the cross of grief or pain. Leave to thy God to order and provide; in every change He faithful will remain. Oh be still my soul; thy best, thy heavenly Friend, through thorny ways leads to a joyful end. ~ Be Still My Soul (hymn) 14 years later, similarly I sit with all the same conflict inside me. This time there is no rocking, no baby, no post-delivery hormones and no real excuses. Yet still, I'm anxious. And fearful. With a soul that still shouts all the ways I should be alarmed. My problems are different. My newborns have become teenagers and I'm not in the same home as I was when I rocked my baby. Nor am I in the same city or church. So much change and yet my soul battles the same emotional wars. The racket that fills my heart with dread and worry is the same as it was back then, in that rocking chair. Fears about myself, my kids, the future and confusion about these bewildering times press on my chest. So my heart still sings that same old hymn. Now I remember that none of this is new to me. When I was 8 and 12 and 17 similar anxiety wars raged internally then too. I coped by closing my bedroom door, turning on music, lighting candles or incense and laying on my bed to regulate what I didn't understand was "wrong" with me at the time. As I've discovered, this unpleasant bedfellow has been with me a long time. Erroneously, I assumed getting older and hopefully wiser would mean getting over some of this anxiety stuff - like Clarence, the angel, earning his wings in the movie It's a Wonderful Life . Hasn't age earned me a calmer soul? How is it possible that after all this time I still feel like a fabrege egg, on the brink of breaking? Isn't the deal supposed to be that the closer I get to meeting my Maker, the more I become like my Maker? I thought growing older would have some refining benefits that took care of my anxiety. Or at the very least, dulled it's severity. Yet, as it seems, the only persistent lesson I learn as more grey hair peek under the dye, is just how much I need my Maker, every day. Every hour. Because, due to the fragility of living in this world, I don't have peace like a river. I have angst like a rollercoaster. Up, down, upside down. Never straight and narrow. Only winding, sometimes paralyzing. To know anxiety is to hate anxiety. It is one of the least desired feelings one can experience. As the new movie Inside Out 2 so aptly shows, this frenzied companion is tireless and vigilant. There are no warnings of danger needed, because all possible (and sometimes impossible) dangers have been spotted and thoroughly thought through long before they ever arrive. But sometimes this companion holds us captive. Even worse is how often we can act like captors with stolkhome syndrome. Regularly returning to its grip because it's all we've ever known. For most of us, we don't even know we're back with our captor until we're wrapped up in it again. Even Mark Twain gets it. Anxiety makes you struggle even when you are not struggling. Just because you are anticipating a hardship that never comes. Or hasn't come yet. Depending on how you look at it. Perhaps one of the most insidious sides of anxiety that I've never heard talked about is how often this companion is right! Truth be told, I've been protected from harm due to opting out of situations because of anxiety. I've also been right in my predictions of failure due to anxieties ferocious ability to forecast impending disaster. Sometimes, just sometimes, I kinda like this companion. But, most of the time, I don't. Unfortunately, unlike how some people describe it, anxiety isn't always a choice. I don't wake up in the middle of the night with my heart racing and my mind in five different terrifying places, because I chose to or because I want to. It just happens. Sometimes, truly, out of nowhere. I've also never chosen to become paralyzed, body-shaking, and dread spreading through my whole body for no apparent reason. There can be something deeply involuntary about it. "Once I was invited to talk about fear and anxiety on a radio program. After a few minutes, the host declared that after he recieved the Spirit he was never anxious again. I responded that after I recieved the Spirit, I never had a day without some kind of anxiety. For the remainder of the program, he insisted that I could not really be a Christian and he evangelized me." ~ Ed Welch (Faculty member and counselor at CCEF) It's tricky being a Christian with an anxiety problem because it seems antithetical to living in Christ. And to some, the very struggle of it, should make one question their salvation. This is faulty-thinking, but more often than not I've been "encouraged" by well-intentioned Christians that this problem is solved purely by doing one thing - repenting. As though all anxiety is uniquivically, first and foremost, a "sin problem". This is where I believe some have been poorly taught. Much like we wouldn't view feeling an unexpected wave of sadness or anger or loneliness as sin, we mustn't view merely experiencing anxiety or fear as sin. In my opinion, teaching this would be lazy. However this does not mean I don't think we can move towards sin when we feel anxious. We most certianly can. Just like anger can lead to violence, so can anxiety lead to distrusting God. And in those cases we must repent. How we respond to negative emotions is the real test. Not the feeling in and of itself. If we let it, our anxiety can breed in us a sinful desire for control or an unbelief in the Lord's ability to provide or a prideful heart of self-sufficiency. And it's texts like Matthew 6:24 from the Sermon on the Mount that help us with this. When Jesus says, "Do not be anxious about your life," He doesn't just stop there. He continues by sharing why we shouldn't be anxious - the father provides for both plants and animals, and He promises to provide even more so for those created in His image. This is the encouragement of the text - don't let anxious thoughts convince you to believe something untrue about God. Also at the end of Philippians, Paul encourages the church in Philippi by saying, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God" (Phil 4:6). And similarly Peter finishes his letter to the churches in Asia Minor with a direct message to the Elders of the church by saying, "Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you." (1 Pet 5:7) Although these texts read as commands in the same way the Ten Commandments are commands, they are not the same. These are more like lower case "c" commands. For instance when the the multitude of angels appeared in front of the shepherds in Luke 2 and the angel of the Lord commanded "Do not be afraid", he was using a lower-case command. He didn't expect the shepherds to have all their fear evaporate by the mere command. But more for them to be comforted by what he was about to say next, which was, "I bring you good news of great joy". When a father comforts his child by saying "don't be afraid" while tucking him into bed, he does so not as a means of discipline or as a strong command that could incur punishment if not heeded. Instead he says it as a means of alleviation. His words and presense act as great relief to an anxious child because it comes from a place of love and care. What Jesus and Paul and Peter are saying is that we must not be anxious. Why? Because, God is with us! They implore God's people not to fall into anxiety's trap of faithlessness. And they are comforting the suffering hearer of the Word and encouraging them to be strengthened by the Lord's provision and loving-kindness to His children. Have you ever had someone say to you "just don't worry about it" in the middle of deep feelings of anxiety? How helpful was that advice in the moment? Yeah, not helpful. In fact, "advice" like that can be infuriating. This is not how we should read Jesus's words about anxiety. He is not being flippant. He is not irritated with us. And He is defintely not mad and ready to send wrath upon us when fear takes us on a rollercoaster ride. There is no shame in feeling anxious or fear. To be human is to feel the weight of being human. And we as Christian brothers and sisters should never heap unnecessary shame or guilt onto those we love because we assume their anxiety is sin. The idea that we may question salvation or treat someone as extra bad due to long-term anxiety is an unnecessary burden that need not be placed on suffering shoulders. It would serve us to know that even Jesus experienced rollercoaster-like distress due to the anticipation of hardship. And He withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and He knelt down and began to pray, saying, “Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done.” Now an angel from heaven appeared to Him, strengthening Him. And being in agony, He was praying very fervently; and His sweat became like drops of blood, falling down upon the ground. ~ Luke 22:41-44 What Jesus was experiencing was emotional agony that manifested into physical distress. Some might say His distress about dying for our sins is nothing like our measely anxiety. And in terms of severity, they would be right. But I do believe this account of how Jesus handled what seemed to be a limited understanding of what He would face on the Cross, as an inspired example on how we should respond to our own limited understanding of the future. His anticipatory anguish was never sin. Yet, He had a choice in how to respond to it. He could have walked away and taken matters into His own hands by disobeying His Father in Heaven. But He didn't. He was led away in chains in full compliance as the Father willed. He never sinned amidst His anguish. In the same way, we too have choices to make when anxiety and fear overcome us. We can respond in disobedience and self-will or we can submit ourselves under the mighty hand of God. What does all this mean for how we live with anxiety? And how do we get the peace of Christ? I think it begins with our own acknowlegment of weakness. When we collapse into the arms of Christ and admit to Him all over again just how weak and needy we are, His compassion is kindled towards us For he will save the needy when he cries for help, the afflicted also, and him who has no helper. He will have compassion on the poor and needy, and he will save the lives of the needy. ~ Psalm 72:12-13 I believe under the surface of our anxiety and fear are motivations and desires that we long to hold onto. Sometimes those desires are sinful and need to be released. And sometimes they are everyday blessings that the Lord gives us and all we want is to hold onto to them. Things like our family and friends, our career or our home. As I sat in that rocking chair so many years ago, my heart ached with the responsiblity to protect the new baby I loved so much. This was a great blessing that I was holding onto for dear life. Great fear of failure was all around me. Motherhood is a task the Lord has entrusted into my hands and so I return to Him for help with this task regularly. It's a blessing. But doing it perfectly has never been His requirement of me. And the outcomes have never been in my hands. Psalm 131 serves as a great teacher about peace when anxiety weighs heavy. 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 . This kind of peace is not a prescription to keep the anxiety and fear away. But it helps us to not be robbed of our peace amidst the waves. This kind of peace hits different. It doesn't abide because we've set up the right kind of boundaries to keep everyone around us from rattling our comfort. It doesn't provide us with lowered expectations so we never feel disappointment. It doesn't advocate for us to control every relational interaction so that we enjoy every moment perfectly. We may still wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat because we can't avoid hardship with this kind of peace. Rather, what this Psalm shows us is a peace that is realistic. David isn't trying to ambitiously go after things too great and marvellous for him. He had to learn this the hard way. Part of long-lasting and affective peace is knowing our limits. It's humbly accepting our futility. It's living not in pursuit of impossibilities but instead, living out of an acknowledgement of our real limits and weaknesses. Like a helpless babe in his mothers arms, he knows that all he needs is what she can give him. Love, provision and comfort. With this kind of peace comes a quieted soul. A soul that can vibrate with anxiety and also ease into the goodness of God at the same time. One that trusts our good Father when He tells us not to fear because He's with us in the struggle. Because He knows our struggle and faced it for us. And because He's our advocate now as we wrestle with the many challenges this world throws at us. I believe burdens get heavier with age. The longer we live, the more pain we experience and see all around the world and in our own lives. And the more we see, the more we expect to experience. And it's in this expectation that anxiety lives. At least for me. It's no wonder to me anymore why age hasn't cured my fears. I've seen too much. Like Jesus in the garden I am constantly asking that the Lord take my (very small in comparison) affliction cup away from me. In fact, I plead with Him to take affliction cups away from me that He hasn't even given me yet. Because I'm all too aware of the many afflictions looming at any given moment. It's exhausting. If there is anything getting older has taught me it's that two things can exist internally at the same time. Fear and comfort, Distress and trust, Anxiety and joy. In Christ we don't suffer with fear, distress and anxiety alone. We suffer with a greater hope. Truth be told, I'm in the fight every day. Maybe you are too. But thanks be to God who does not reject us in our weakness. As Esther Liu says about the heart of God, "He is pleased to accept in Christ that which is sincere, even if it is very imperfect...he does not despise that which is offered in sincerity even if it bears the marks of weakness."The Lord does not strike us when we are down, but instead reaches His nail stricken hands low to pull us up and take us into His embrace. In our heart-pounding confusion there He sits like a good Father at our side and tells us not to be afraid. . When I said, “My foot is slipping,”your unfailing love, Lord, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy. ~ Psalm 94:18-19 A note from the writer: This is the first of a three part series I'm doing on a Christian response to the undesirable experiences and feelings that comes with being a human in a broken world. In this series I'll be discussing Anxiety, Grief and Trauma. In no way will these writing's be a scholarly comprehensive work but more of a christian response on some of the hot-button and buzzy topics that are very real to all of us. These writing's endeavour to be devotional and written about from my own experience and through the lense of Scripture. I plan to handle with care.

Free, thine own from Satan’s tyranny; From depths of hell Thy people save, And give them victory o’er the grave. ~ O Come, O Come, Emmanuel God bless 15th century writers. We know nothing of their eloquence. Although the writer of O Come, O Come, Emmanuel is unknown, we can safely assume based on the articulation of this song, that this long-dead person knew a thing or two about the enigmatic nature of Christ’s incarnation. Particularly in regards to the deeply specific fulfilling of prophesy. It's with each Christmas that comes and goes that we can be reminded of the precedence that prophesy plays in the Christmas story. Isaiah is a prophetic book ultimatley all about God and His plan for the world. And the first half deals mostly in judgement towards a wayward Israel. By the time we get to the end of chapter 10, it says this, "Behold, the Lord God of hosts will lop the boughs with terrifying power; the great in height will be hewn down, and the lofty will be brought low. He will cut down the thickets of the forest with an axe, and Lebanon will fall by the Majestic One" In other words, the arrogant and rebellious will be felled like tree's in a forest. They will be properly humbled - chopped to their roots by a strong and Holy God. But we are not left with this discouraging picture of a dismal, empty forest of destruction. Nestled in these verses of judgement begins chapter 11, continuing the imagery for us to see what the Lord is saying. "A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit. The Spirit of the Lord will rest on him—the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the Lord.” Isaiah 11:1-2 Out of a dead stump will come a living branch. The perished stump of Jesse was invaded with sin and yet from it would come David's kingly line. An alive-and-well branch was still promised by God to come from this family stump (Jeremiah 33:17). Hope abides here. Hope, not earned nor deserved. After a long and disheartening time of sin and tumult, Israel is promised something new. The Lord reveals part of the story He's writing. Being on this side of history gives us the benefit of knowing in great detail what this hope was all about. The generational family lines that made way for the birth of Christ would begin in the person of Jesse. Just as the prophesy taught. His line ran through over 40 generations (according to the the gospel of Luke). Not one forefather or mother was an accident in paving the way for Jesus. No matter how complicated they may have been. And they certainly were complicated. Tim Keller expounds on the nature of the genealogy of Jesus, in his book Hidden Christmas, "Here, then, you have moral outsiders - adulterers, adulteresses, incestuous relationships, prostitutes. Indeed, we are reminded that even the prominent male ancestors - Judah and David - were moral failures. You also have cultural outsiders, racial outsiders, and gender outsiders. The law of Moses excluded these people from the presense of God, and yet they are all publicly acknowledged as the ancestors of Jesus." The family-line of Jesus is storied and abstruse to say the least. Which, I think, is the way we like it. Especially in these current times. We sure love a good rags-to-riches or sob-story. Have you ever noticed how often reality TV shows spend time focusing on the story of the contestants? Whether it's America's Got Talent or Survivor or any home makeover show, the producer's of that show will always zero in on the trials of those competing. And the reason is obvious; the more the viewers are moved to pity someone, the more we'll want them to win. The sadder the story, the more votes. We live in a time where adversity is king. Whoever has the greatest hardships gets the most attention. And all this is fine, until it's not. Because when oppression is currency, everyone wants a piece. Now our identity becomes about it and most dangerously, our whole purpose in life becomes about number one - Me and my experiences. We as human's are very good at thinking the world spins around our big heads. Our accomplishments, our hardships, our needs, our sorrows. Our stories. How could we not? Every day we walk around in our own bodies. We'll experience this one life seeing out of one set of eyes. It will only be our own mind that observes the world around us. So it makes sense. However when we return to the genealogies of the Saviour something about it challenges our self-focus. It pulls us out of our narrow experience and advise's us in who this story is about. Making us recall whose mission we are on. Because if the story is about me, the mission is about me. My cause, my desires, my works. Although each person in the grand family-line of Christ has their own meaningful story - in many cases stories of oppression and tragedy. Although their lives mattered, in the end, all that remains is just their names in a line of other names. We can read from their histories and learn from their mistakes. We can take in the details of their lives and enjoy the narrative. But their little life is only there to serve a larger, more important purpose. And the same goes for each of us. We see this most interestingly in the name of Joseph. The reason being - the ancient bloodline from Jesse came to a screeching halt with Joseph. As we know, he was betrothed to Mary, and she gave birth to Jesus. But she became pregnant by the Holy Spirit, not by Joseph. And yet the prophesied genealogy from Jesse came through Joseph. There would need to be an adoption; and it was so. And when Joseph adopted Jesus in faith, his life served a much more essential part of the grand narrative about the family of God. Indeed through this action God proved the legitimacy of all adoption - that the bonds of family have little to do with blood and a lot to do with spiritual covenant and the fear of the Lord. Joseph played his part to tell a larger story. It's fascinating to ponder just how baby Jesus, the king of the world, needed to be grafted into a heritage of faith. And a messy one at that. He was accepted into a pretty toxic family-line; an acestory as defective and pernicious as it gets. But one that was prophesied and planned perfectly by an almighty God. All the blemish's we see with each name in the genealogy is a reminder of the nature of humanity. All family tree's are stricken with sin and tumult. Each branch is riddled with it. We all need Christ to be brought into our families and make whats dead alive. But perhaps more importantly, our family history, is not the final story. No matter how long the dysfunction has been going on, the story isn't over yet. The prophesy of Christ coming reminds us each year that God is the main character. And after we've endured yet another go-around the sun seeing great difficulties in our families, communities and the world, we are reminded that God is not on our timeline. His clock is not our clock. We cry for His return and wait for the prophesies of his second advent splendor. But we do so having been freshly soaked in the first advent incarnation. During this festive season, with each day that passes, as we make plans, bake cookies, watch movies, buy presents, we await Him again. Each carol sung, passage read and candle lit is a surrender to the larger narrative that we can't see. We watch and anticipate knowing that our wise and sovereign Saviour tarry's for a reason. One we can't know, but one we can surely trust in the way that Joseph and Mary did. This is why when Christmas arrives, we rejoice. Not because our little chapter of His great story is perfect, but because an old prophesy came true. As Isaiah and Jeremiah declared, the Christ would come and give life and fruit to old, dead roots. And He did. In Him was and is the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of knowledge and fear of the Lord. And then on the Cross He freed us from satan's tyranny. And one day soon, He will free us from this world and ourselves and take us to Him. Through the little lives we have, He's telling His story. Out of dysfunction, He brings mission. Out of self-focus, He brings identity in Him. And out of dead stumps, He brings new life and active fruit. O come Emmanuel. O come, Thou Dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by thine advent here; Disperse the gloomy clouds of night; And death's dark shadows put to flight. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

"It is literally impossible to be a woman"~ Gloria (America Ferrera - The Barbie movie) Recently I was talking to my daughter and she asked me in all seriousness, "why do men have it so much easier than women?" In that moment as a millennial mom it was like a rush of my own life history about the subject filled my mind all at once. If I was in a movie, a foggy sepia-toned reel of my own storied past would appear, overlaid with the song "Wannabe" by Spice Girls. I didn't know how to respond to my daughter, all I knew is that I wanted to agree with her. Yet I questioned my own intentions with that agreement. There's no question that the road from girlhood to womanhood is bumpy. And it doesn't really get easier with time. Which left me wondering, is it truly harder to be a woman? As a female I feel the pangs of conflict that rage inside about my own gender in a world so confused about it's troubles. And although this summer has seemed to prove there is a surge of renewed girl-power with the wild success of the Barbie movie and the Billion dollar Taylor Swift and Beyonce concert tours, I still think most of us women aren't really thriving in our own bodies. And even worse, I don't think we're passing on a beautiful view of what it means to be a woman to the next generation of daughters. How womanhood is viewed has changed over the last bunch of decades. And understandably so. Gone are the days of the 50's housewife in a dress and pearls, tending to all the home and children needs with a smile and no complaint. To some this is a shame, to others its good progress. Whatever your ideological proclivity, there has been complexity to this history. There was a time when women weren't deemed as very important unless they were a wife and a mother. Then the mark of a great woman became about her dedication to her career. Now it seems we must do it all in order to have any value and cache in society. If you're not a wife, what's wrong with you? If you're not a mother, you must not be fulfilled. If you're not a career woman, you're intelligence is in question. And judgements about our worth are shared freely all around us. There has been much liberation over the years for women when it comes to these things. Which is progress that should be embraced by Christians, given the fact that our favourite lady in Proverbs 31 is the embodiment of a business woman, wife, mother and active member of society. It is also a work of the Spirit that more men are being held accountable for how they treat women both in the work place and at home. There are good conversations about mental load and work/life balance being had now more than ever. This is good progress. And more recently, women have been liberated to get brave and honest about abuse and mistreatment. And this should be encouraged. But, I wonder if we've also become a little too comfortable sharing our small inconveniences and discomforts and conflating them with real issues. How often do we resort to complaining about every little thing for sympathy? And then how often is this observed by the girls around us? Are we always the victim? Sadly, young girls today receive the message from us, that to live as a woman in this world is to live a brow-beaten life forever. This aggressive narrative of female turmoil has truth to it of course, but what effect is it having on the young people being raised today? And is it the whole story? In recent years there have been studies showing a surge in young women desiring to change their gender. This is a trend particularly among girls wanting to become boys. What is happening? Of course there are many complex reasons for this, but one motivation is the growing dread they have of being an oppressed woman trapped in a body that gives them terrible pain forever. They believe it would just be easier to be a man. Where did they get this message from? In the Barbie movie the character Gloria, played by America Ferrera, gives an impassioned monologue about the difficulty of being a woman. Here is an edited for size version of the speech. You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can't ask for money because that's crass. You have to be a boss, but you can't be mean. You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas. You're supposed to love being a mother, but don't talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people...You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line. It's too hard! It's too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you! And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault. It's a lot. And I found myself in the theatre with one of my closest friends, watching this and agreeing with most of it. As pandering and overly emotional as it was, it wasn't altogether false. And she didn't even mention periods and child birth and menopause. Or the abuse women experience verbally, physically and sexually everyday. There is a reason most girls are taught to put their keys in between their fingers for self-defence just to walk to their car at night. It can be a terrifying world out their for us. So let me be clear, I am not suggesting women don't speak up when very real abuse, aggression or unethical behaviour is happening to them. There is no doubt that to be a woman is to experience all this, plus more. And yes, it can be exhausting. Although the movie sought to resolve this problem in the best way they knew how (which I won't spoil here), I'm not confident it was enough. And I walked away mainly thinking about this speech and the effect it will have on the younger generation hearing it. Will this reinforce all the fear and dread? Please don't think I'm writing a hit-piece on the Barbie movie because I'm not. That would be about two months too late and also, it's been done. There is much to love and critique about the movie and you can find that somewhere else. I just believe the subtle messages we get from all kinds of places in society have a stickiness that we often ignore. And I fear, we 21st century moms echo them without even knowing in our own homes. We have been liberated to speak freely, but for what? To complain about every minor thing? As someone who is currently living a pretty traditional marriage lifestyle, and enjoying it for the most part, I have assumed my kids are at least observing a healthy version of the male and female experience. Yet even so, I know I've gotten too used to complaining about all the ways its tough to be a woman. There's probably been much more jokes and sarcasm on the subject than there's been gospel-inspired girl-power to even it out. And the Barbie movie helped me see that. One thing the culture often does well, is point out where the cracks are in society's foundations. They're just not very good at fixing the problem. So we must find our solutions somewhere firmer than the shifting sands of society. Which is where we'll go now. The truth is that both men and women face challenges of all kinds through life. Genesis 3 details the very general cursed, thorn-in-flesh pains we experience on earth and none of it is easy or pretty. So we mustn't go down a battle of the sexes path when discussing this. If anything there should be mutual care and consideration for the uniquely male and uniquely female troubles we all face. But how often do we, as women, focus on the beauty of our femaleness? How much time do we spend enjoying the way we were made? Because God has given true sustainable value to our female experience. In the good and the bad, He provides beauty. He wasn't satisfied with only creating man, He saw the purpose of the woman and then made her (Gen 2:18-23). He cursed both man and woman in the garden for a sin some say was the fault of the woman alone. Yet He saw and knew the hearts of both and responded appropriately (Gen 3). When Jesus walked the earth He cared for the lowliest of women. His healing of the hemorraging lady was a mercy given for a uniquely female problem otherwise ignored by men (Luke 8:43-48). Jesus taught both sexes, He was friends with ladies (Luke 10:38-42) and He included women as main players in the story of His death, burial and resurrection (John 19:25, Matthew 27:61, Mark 16). There should be no debate in seeing the value the Lord places on women throughout Scripture. We should also not ignore the many places women are mistreated and abused throughout history as described in Scripture. As one example, take a quick gander at the horrific story in Judges 19:1-30. When men lose sight of their God-given roles, women and children suffer. The Word of God is robust in its descriptions of both the terror and beauty of being a woman. We should not live in blissful ignorance or decided defensiveness that the terror is real. It is. And our daughters need to know it, in order to protect themselves. Yet we also must not be persuaded to think its all terror and no beauty. Embedded in living as a female in this world is the complete understanding that the Lord is good and is with us. In how He has gifted us, in His grace and in His presence there is so much beauty to be experienced. And perhaps, for the sake of our daughters, we need a healthy dose of the latter. Perhaps we need another impassioned speech to balance out the whole thing. I'm sure Greta Gerwig could write something better, but maybe it could go a little like this... As women and image-bearers, we get to live the process of bearing children. As He created us, so we get to deliver children. We get to be hospitable to the broken and weary - nourishing babies and bringing neighbours into our living rooms. We turn barren places into beautiful spaces. We're able to run business's with grace and dignity - making compassionate directives for the good of others. We're able to wipe little noses and comfort tear-laden cheeks with cushioned embraces. We get to be the kind of friend that counsels and listens and shows up with coffee. We can be bosses and moms and coaches and wives. We can prepare hot meals for hungry tummies and heavy-laden souls. We get to serve our husbands and friends with strength and duty. And raise up respectable men and dignified women. We get to please our Father in Heaven by striving to be gentle and lowly as Jesus. Wise and Kind, Spirit-filled women. Is it harder to be a woman? I don't know, but I no longer think that question serves us. If we saw the joy in the female experience, how would we live differently in the eyes of our kids and neighbours? Sure, dealing with menstruation pain month in and month out is uniquely diabolical, but as Jen Wilkin said... "Women's bodies every 28 days tell them a parable about the shedding of blood for the renewal of life. You don't think that changes the way that we encounter the Scriptures? Men only bleed when there is something wrong." This is not to demean how men experience the Word. But it is to acknowledge the unique beauty of walking this earth as a woman. There is pain. And yet all that pain shouts of the redeeming work of the Cross. Where the son of man had His brow-beaten and blood shed so that all Genesis 3 curses of frustration could be made perfect again in the hereafter. To be a woman is to be created in the image of God. It is to be made as the Lord designed. I think, we must find our full identity in that great and final hope. Not in our own victimhood but in His suffering and victory alone. The great irony in that America Ferrera speech is how much men probably resonate with it too. There is so much in it that has to do with the human experience. Contradictory messages about who we're supposed to be and what we're supposed to do is a common battle across the board. Indeed it is hard to be human. Some might say it feels impossible at times. To be fallen. To go to war with our own sin daily is brutal business as weak and feeble humans. Yet God made us male and female, co-heirs, in His Image - for His purposes. He did so with a wisdom we cannot fathom nor fully understand. So before we get caught up straining to find all our value in our Girl-power femaleness or chest-beating maleness - Or before we get discouraged with the unique plights of our gender - take a deep breath and remember who made you. In His goodness, by His hands - He formed us. Yet You, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, You are the potter; we are all the work of Your hand. - Isaiah 64:8 Take your challenges to the maker of yourself. And pass on to the next generation that His work is good.

Every generation blames the one before. And all of their frustrations, come beating on your door. ~ The living years by Mike + The Mechanics Anyone remember this song? It's an 80's gem and it's one of those Cats in the Cradle type songs about a stilted relationship between father and son. The kind of song that randomly pops onto the radio and instantly dusts off old emotions, placing you square in your blubbery feelings while barrelling down a highway in a car filled with your entire family. A scenario that has definitely never happened to me, of course. Like the song describes, I see generational discord and misunderstanding all the time and in many different ways. It's a topic that comes up a lot. Usually in a complaining type manner. You may have noticed this too. I think once we get to a certain age we all find ourselves participating in this kind of old-timer grumbling. But as the years pass, I've found the topic more interesting than anything else. My father-in-law likes to tell a story about the time he went to a big church conference for youth workers as a teenager. It was in the 70's when it was popular for men to have long hair and he followed this trend. While at the conference, the preacher berated the audience angrily about men with long-hair being unchristian and influenced by the devil. In the middle of this message my father-in-law watched as a fellow longer-haired man stood up to leave, only to have the preacher stop his sermon and shout at the man to sit down. He obeyed. When Boomers were teens my grandparents generation called them "dirty hippies". They were perceived as slackers who only valued frivolous experiences and had never endured a hard days work in their lives. Which sounds a lot like the kinds of things I hear said by my Millennial peers about Gen Z. It's also been the same rock thrown at Millennials from our Boomer parents. It's a tale as old as time. We love to blame the generations we aren't apart for every societal issue we face in the moment. I guess it's a weird right of passage. And it feels extra prevalent right now. Because this is an issue that affects us all. Especially in our families, our jobs and even the church. With so much cultural shift and technological progression, we have different generations inter-mingling with each other on mass. Making the mounting frustrations more prominent than ever. But I'd like to call a cease-fire on this generational blame battle. I'm mainly speaking to Christians, because we're supposed to model a different way. And the Bible has helpful wisdom on this very issue that we could really use right now. Which means, if we want to see spiritual flourishing happen within the whole body of Christ we must open the Scriptures to reverse the negative ways this is affecting the church. Before I get into it, here are the generation names that I've already used and will continue to use in this post. Some lists vary the dates a little, but this is just to give some clarity as we continue. The Greatest Generation – born 1901 - 1927. The Silent Generation – born 1928 - 1945. The Baby Boomer Generation – born 1946 - 1964. Generation X – born 1965 - 1979. Millennials – born 1980 - 1995. (Me!) Generation Z – born 1996 - 2010. Gen Alpha – born 2011 - 2025 As you can see the most prominent generations of adults that are working together and engaging in larger societal conversations are Baby Boomers, Gen X's, Millennials and Gen Z's. Which is proving to be an explosive combination. Mainly because these ages span across perhaps the most technologically advancing years of all time. The world Gen Z grew up in is radically different than the world Boomers grew up in. Which no one can be blamed for. None of us chose what age to be born in. But this generational disconnect is bound to cause friction when cultural conversations are had. So what does this mean for the church? I think it mean's a lot of things. Because each generation comes with strengths and weakness's and I think it's important to know what those are when discipleship is happening. For example, Boomers are known for having excellent work-ethic and a propensity to innovate. They are also the generation with the largest amount of divorce and family tumult ever recorded. Gen X is known for being well-educated and strong leaders. Yet they tend to buck against authorities holding them accountable. Millenials are known for being collaborative and they seek to find meaning in work and life. Yet their sense of entitlement can make them challenging to work with. Gen Z's are known for valuing diversity and justice as well as embracing the outsider. However anxiety and depression is reeking havoc on their mental health, making them risk-averse in life. These are, of course, a very brief and general look at each generation. And there are many cultural reasons for why each generation is the way they are. Much more analysis has been done in regards to each generations strengths and weaknesses which can be easily found with a google search. But what is most important for this conversation are the gifts that each generation provides the church. And in order to actually see those gifts we have to relent our constant complaining about the weaknesses. In fact we must fan into flame the gifts that are in them. In all of them. Even the generation you may currently be irritated with. Which requires much more encouragement and much less criticism. Instead, what I see happening, is a reticence to embrace any good, because there is such an intense hatred for the bad. Frustrated Millennials and Gen Z's are bitter about the emotional disfunction they inherited being raised by Boomers and Gen Xer's. In the same way, Boomers and Gen Xer's are resentful toward their Millennial and Gen Z kids and employee's for being unprofessional or self-indulgent. And these problems come when we can't rise above the blame-game. Although no one is above critique (which I will get to), there must firstly be a sense of respect - rooted in relationship - that goes from older to younger and vice versa. Older people don't get to just despise the youth. It's our job to love and encourage and train young ones to live well. 1 Timothy 4:12 is both an admonishment to the old and the young. Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity. Paul was encouraging his younger brother in the faith when he wrote letters to Timothy. And his example of mentorship is deeply important when it comes to this subject. In this same letter, he also teaches that younger folks must show respect to those who are older. Instead of rebuking, they should persuade them with good speech and conduct. 1 Timothy 5:1-3, Never speak harshly to an older man, but appeal to him respectfully as you would to your own father. If I'm being honest, I think each generation, across the board, are terrible at heeding this call from Paul. As a pretty close to middle-aged person, I feel this tension on both sides. I'm older than a lot of people and I find it remarkably easy to cast stones toward those younger than me. I see where they lack wisdom or good judgement and all I want to do is yell at them to grow-up. In the same way I can easily rage against older folks for all the wounds and trouble they've passed down and never taken responsibility for. And although my complaints may be true, both of those reactions lack humility. And neither will bring actual change. Casting stones and rage solves nothing. Our souls need an overhaul in the direction of self-abnegation. My husband was chatting to a neighborhood grandma the other day and she was grumbling to him about how she doesn't like that her church is changing. What is the unwanted change? There are too many young children, and the church is catering to their needs too much. Sure, there is still a thriving seniors ministry but it isn't enough for her. She had no impulse to rejoice over the children and maybe even serve the young families. She could only complain. And this is exactly what I'm talking about. How sad it would be to get to your twilight years - close to meeting your Saviour after a life spent with Him - and end up bitterly refusing to rejoice over younger generations entering the body of Christ. This is a problem of the soul. And we all have it in us. I believe when we let generational divide grow deeper and wider this kind of relational negativity leaves so much room for the devil to play. The disunity gets stronger and more painful with every year that passes. Then we entrench ourselves with an attitude of what-about-me or I-know-better-than-you; dissolving all desire to love and serve. Evil rejoices and we get grumpy. We are in a spiritual battle, but we can't fight what we don't acknowledge. Now is not the time to dig our heels in. Doing so will sacrifice the beauty of the church on the alter of being "right". One of the things that makes the church beautiful is our intergenerational love. When you come to Christ you don't just gain Christ, but His whole family. You get brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, and grandmas and grandpas. We get a rich tapestry of life experience, Biblical knowledge and youthful enthusiasm. Diverse and precious gifts. And the best way to enjoy it all is to embrace it's unique charm with open arms. But how do we begin to experience this blessed intergenerational family? Let me make an appeal first to those who are older. Which includes me! I believe healing this generational divide starts with us. In the same way that when I feel a divide happening in my relationship with one of my kids, I know it is my responsibility to work at fixing the problem. I'm the adult. I'm the older one who is supposed to have more foresight and understanding. Which means I'm the one that needs to model humility and forgiveness and reconciliation. And I hope to keep that mindset with my kids into their adulthood. Because that's our job as elders. We must be the example. You may be wondering though, what do we do when we have legitimate concerns about the young people in our lives? I believe we ought to nurture love and trust into those relationships. We earn a voice in their life by simply caring for them first. We must take interest in them, listen and encourage them in the areas that deserve it. When you choose not to look down on them, you might be surprised at how quickly they desire your wisdom when the time comes. If the relationship is strong, there will be plenty of opportunity to express concern and share advice. But here's the thing, when you have beef with the generation below you, that's an indictment on the generation that raised them. Which is probably your own generation. So let's choose humility. It makes no logical sense to hate the generation we had a hand in raising. Even if we feel we did a much better job than everyone around us, it still does no good to act bitterly against them. Do all things without grumbling or disputing; so that you will prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world, holding fast the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I will have reason to glory because I did not run in vain nor toil in vain. ~ Philippians 2:14-16 You may feel like you have nothing to prove to a wayward generation. You may feel like it's not your job to engage them in their rebellion. But isn't that what God did for us with His son Jesus? Did He not enter a sinful world that called to crucify Him? God has never given us permission to grumble, dispute and hate. And if we can't engage and love sinners, we can't be like Christ. The reality is that there is a time for all things. Even critique. No generation is perfect and the point of this article is not to say we should never talk about it. At some point we must! Being like Christ also means engaging sin. Because in order to break generational sins and mistakes, we must notice them, call them to account and then work to not repeat them. We also must warn each other when bad idea's are infiltrating our loved ones lives. And so we must do this with truth and love and within healthy relationship. To the older folks, ask yourself a question: Do the young to mid-aged adults in my life seem to enjoy my presence and seek wisdom from me for their life? If the answer is no, maybe its because you grumble and verbally look down on their generation so often that they're fearful to engage your opinion about anything. It's possible you give off the impression that you think they're stupid and you don't care about the unique challenges they are facing. To the younger folks, ask yourself a question: Are you teachable when in the presence of someone older than you and do you treat them with respect? If the answer is no, perhaps your harsh words are keeping you from valuable wisdom that can only come from someone whose gone before you. It's possible you give off the impression that you know everything, even though your life and actions shout something different. My goal here is to encourage us to do some self-examination first. With the generation gap we now have, how well are you handling these divides? Are you modelling humility or is it more like condemnation? Has your concern turned to disdain or bitterness? Are you upchucking your contempt online or to whomever your with? Do you listen or do you argue? Get real with yourself for a minute. The generational loop of blame must stop first with the church. We've got to stop playing these worldly games and start closing the gap between us. There is no such thing as the perfect generation. There are no "glory days". There has never been a best time in history. Sin has been present in every person, besides Christ, since that first fruit was eaten in the garden. Let's never pretend we are above anyone else. We cannot let our generational sins and frustrations beat down the doors of the church. We need each other too much for that. Loving intergenerational churches are a picture of the gospel. When older saints are self-sacrificing in their work to mentor and care for younger saints, we become like a never-ending river of faith. Teachings of Christ get carried on from one to the next, on and on, rippling and flowing down stream through generation after generation, until Christ returns. But when that love swings to bitter blame, we dam-up that river and cut off spiritual movement. Let it not be so. Instead, may this be the testimony of the church... Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise; his greatness no one can fathom. One generation commends your works to another; they tell of your mighty acts. They speak of the glorious splendor of your majesty— and I will meditate on your wonderful works. They tell of the power of your awesome works— and I will proclaim your great deeds. They celebrate your abundant goodness and joyfully sing of your righteousness. - Psalm 145:2-7 May we end the generational loop of blame. May we commend the works of the Lord to each other, and to every generation, like a mighty unstoppable river of faith. And may we celebrate His goodness together, in unison and for all time. Amen.

The King of Kings lay thus in lowly manger. In all our trials born to be our friend. ~ O Holy Night My daughter is currently wading through the precarious friendship years of middle school. Each month is new with whose in and whose out. Like a train on the move, making stops along the way, someone steps on and another steps off. There are tears of self-doubt some days and other days are full of BFF-induced elation. Middle school. The truth is, friendship is fickle all through life. Of course, to some degree it settles out of the highs and lows as we ease into adulthood. In theory, with maturity comes less delicate feelings. And it sometimes works out that way. It also can go other ways. We are, after all, weak and feeble sinners with brittle ego's. We're human - with different childhood experiences and time-sensitive stresses that weigh us down. With all that baggage we're bound to misunderstand our friends and let each other down. But as hard as it can be, friendship is essential for life. And it's been on my mind over the last few months. Over the summer I studied the book of John. Which admittedly is not my favourite gospel. Sorry - but lower your pitchforks. You'll be happy to know, deep-diving my least favourite gospel wasn't so bad and I was actually struck by something unexpected in this book. Most of us know the book of John has one pretty obvious goal. And that is to prove to the reader that Jesus is God - He is fully divine and perfectly part of the triune Godhead. And John unabashedly drives that point home over and over again. Of course there are many other juicy themes, but this is the big one. And his case is strong, compelling and extremely important. Yet as I studied the book the Spirit stirred something else in me. I was drawn in by a title of Christ I didn't intend to see in this particular gospel. Christ - our friend. Certainly we see Him model being a friend of sinners in every gospel, including John. And we read about the importance of good friendship all over the Bible in general. So its not a new concept. But there is only one place Jesus speaks of himself with that title and that's in John's gospel. I happily concede props to John for including this beautiful detail. He says this to his disciples in 15:12-15: This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you. Can you imagine what it would have felt like to be the disciples and to hear that kind of invitation? Jesus, not just as rabbi or leader but now as a friend? In our current structure of life, friend implies peer. It requires mutual affection and respect. It assumes regular day to day companionship. Give and take. It's a concept we all experience in life but it's not often thought about deeply. It's kind of regular. It is so...human. And as we live and breath today, that invitation is for us as well. There is no question John's main goal in writing this gospel is to highlight the divinity of Christ, and yet this text reminds the reader He is also fully human. He can relate to us like a brother and friend. His desire is for an intimacy that comes with self-sacrificing love for one another. He did His part on the cross. He sacrificed it all for His friends - and everyone who would call on His name after. He modelled that kind of true friendship perfectly and He invites that same dedication and companionship from us today. With our earthly friends and also with Him. This is why He came. In a manger, among cattle, the lowly, homeless and fragile - born to be our friend. Born to make Himself fully and truly accessible as a companion. For anyone who would have Him. We live in lonely and self-centred times. And friendship is complicated. Deeply held opinions and very busy schedules can keep us from good community with others. We play favourites and avoid the awkward ones or the needy ones or the ones that bring a lot of challenge with them. We're impatient and keep records of wrongs. We desperately need each other yet we let full calendars or bitterness or personal comforts keep us away. Friendship is important but it's so human and wrought with disappointment. And sadly, due to sin, it will always be fragile. But for Jesus. Here is the promise of the gospel and the message of the whole Bible: In Jesus Christ, we are given a friend who will always enjoy rather than refuse our presence. This a companion whose embrace of us does not strengthen or weaken depending on how clean or unclean, how attractive or revolting, how faithful or fickle, we presently are. The friendliness of his heart for us subjective is as fixed and stable as is the declaration of his justification of us objectively. ~Dane Ortlund - Gentle and Lowly As John 1:14 says, the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. There would be no tabernacle or temple needed. Full of grace and truth, the exact imprint of the Father - Jesus came to take up residence with His people. God almighty put on skin and brought himself as low as He could into the belly of a young girl in a nothing town. He linked himself to nobodies with nothing. He was brought near. Status, education and beauty were and are irrelevant to His desire for our friendship. And He knows just how complex we are and how challenging the temptations of this world are. Because He came here and learned to walk and talk and work and live and die. A full human experience. Which means we have a perfect companion in Christ. He won't let us down. He won't get too busy or let bitterness take root. He will always be there when we need Him. He perfectly understands our plight, perfectly offers grace, perfectly calls us to righteousness. Let's face it, in this relationship we have with Him, we are the needy friend. We're the awkward ones. We're the ones who don't hold up our end of the bargain. We don't call as much as we should and we don't follow through with our commitments. But unlike our earthly friendships, He holds nothing against us. He holds out His hand every time we return to Him. He is the only friend who won't disappoint. In every lonely moment, He is Immanuel - God with us. As you gaze upon the manger this Christmas and take in all the incarnational aspects of the season. As you spend time with friends and family, whether the dynamics are joyful or downright disappointing. Remember what a friend you have in Jesus. A forever companion. A Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. He is the King of Kings. He is the Lord of Lords. And He is the Friend of Friends.

"A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls." Proverbs 25:28 It felt like it was day 1000 of the drought and I'd peaked with anxiety. The river was almost completely dry and so was my spirit. I wrote a whole angsty post about it here. My expectations for a cool and rainy Fall dried up along with the river by mid October. There was nothing I could do to get rid of the smoke from forest fires that was causing all kinds of problems. I just had to endure it. And I hated it. This is not even close to the first time I've been riddled with frustration over lack of control. And it won't be the last. The whole idea of control is so sneaky. In fact it's an utter lie. And I'm not talking about the responsible ways we are supposed to exert authority and discipline, like in parenting or work or general life choices. I'm talking about the big stuff. And sometimes the little stuff. It's any stuff that we hyper-focus on trying to manipulate and dominate for our own benefit. If you were raised in the West like me, you probably have just as many control issues as I do. We've always had everything we need, plus more. And when you have a lot, you have a lot to lose. Which makes the desire for control so much more necessary. But the need for control is birthed out of fear. Fear of losing the prefect conditions we're so accustomed to. As a result the only way to protect all that we have, is to try and control it. Our affluence has made us this way. In ancient times and really up until the beginning of the 20th century, the only thing consistent in life was it's unpredictability. For many reasons people in those times lived each day with an understanding that their way of life was temperamental. Having full years of drought and famine they became accustomed to uncertainty. All of a sudden they'd have to endure mass illness and watch their loved ones die. Travel was completely incalculable, especially by sea. Storms could rise or sickness could sweep the ship. There was no specific timing you could hope for. Nothing was sure. Most prominently the government. In fact, governing authorities were awful most of the time. And everyone lived in constant wonder when a new law or tax or expectation would come down and wallop individual families and whole communities. This was their way of life. And is now, for so many countries around the world. Each day is a true step of faith into the unknown. Now this doesn't mean ancient civilizations didn't struggle with control or trust in the Lord. But when we sit back and compare their way of life up against our modern way of life, it's a note-worthy difference. They truly needed spiritual help. And we don't. At least, we don't think we do. No matter how devout you are in your faith, modern civilization affords us a way of life that allows for less need for spiritual help. We watched this reality unfold inside ourselves when a world-wide pandemic forced varying degree's of affliction into our otherwise comfortable lives. Some struggled more than others, but everyone experienced relational or financial strains and the on-going fear of unpredictability. Sadly, it was the church family that splintered and stretched and broke. It was tense. And for some, it still is. We are not used to being inconvenienced. We are used to getting our way pretty quickly and seamlessly. The grocery store is always stocked and the gym is always open. Until it isn't. Then the need for control becomes paramount. Even now as I sit and write, my neighbours dog is outside my window barking. This has become a daily routine. He stands there and he barks. And barks and barks. For literal hours. As you can imagine, this has greatly impacted my ability to think straight. I spent the last two months reconfiguring and curating a calm and aesthetically pleasing office for me to write in. Which is now situated by a crying dog. It's a small inconvenience. Very small. But that hasn't stopped me from grouchily pacing my house, ranting internally about all the ways I've been put-out. As the barks continue so does my impassioned and irritable desire for justice. How can I control this situation? I'm a petulant child. My need to control every uncomfortable situation has only added more suffering in my life. This is what the lie of control does to us. It add's unnecessary suffering. We believe that if we do all the right things - plan ahead, have a savings account, make lots of money or in my case, create a perfect writing space, then all our expected comforts will be there for us when we need them. Our culture preaches this message constantly. Hustle, boss-up and work hard to curate a perfect life for yourself! Thats the only way you will get what you want and ultimately have assurance that you'll suffer as little as possible. Christians have internalized this message and have unintentionally encouraged a works-based, health/wealth faith that trades good works and deep faith for the Lord's blessing. So, if I study my Bible, work hard at my job and tithe a lot of money - God will protect my family, thwart any serious suffering, maintain my wealthy lifestyle and keep all the relationships in my life peaceful. And it's not just the glossy mega church's, ready for their close up that fall prey to this. It's a default for all of us. Even us with "good" theology. It's us with food in our fridge, running water in our taps, comfy beds to sleep in, and TV's in our living room. We - with much. The prosperous. We love control. But when God doesn't hold up His end of the bargain and there's a drought or a world-wide pandemic or a whiney dog barking. When the vote didn't go our way or our child is being disobedient or the culture of godlessness seems to be winning - Our need to take the reigns from the sovereign God of the universe who ordained these outcomes, becomes essential. Because if I could be given dominance, things would be better and I could definitely manage that power just fine. Which is exactly what Eve thought. When we look at the first sin ever to enter creation, it is one of attempting to take control. Eve was deceived by the serpent, not just because she desired to have her own personal enlightenment. But so that she could experience what it would be like to be God. To know all things, and therefore have dominion in and of herself. Control. Before the world was ever scary and unstable, humans have coveted dominance. And before people had ever given into sin, Satan knew what would lure the human heart away from trusting in the Lord's ultimate supremacy. Eve had everything she needed. It just wasn't enough. God has never encouraged us to be control-seekers. He's only ever asked that we trust His good and perfect Will. And as you read the whole of Scripture you see Him remind his people that we are but a mist. Here today and gone the next. A vapor can't control what tomorrow brings (James 4:13-17, Proverbs 27:1). When Job lost everything he held dear and was understandably steeped in grief, he engaged in discussions with friends over the validity of God's unknowable ways. They went back and forth with mostly human reasoning on the subject. Until the Lord spoke in chapter 38. God answers Jobs cries of confusion with a lofty diatribe of his ultimate sufficiency. Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place? Can you raise your voice to the clouds and cover yourself with a flood of water? Who do we think we are, believing we have any control over anything? Listen, everyday we are made known of some imminent danger in the world around us. Right now - depending on who you listen to - you've heard a thousand different ways major trouble is right around the corner. We are at great risk of a water crisis, famine, earth quakes (the big one) and various natural disasters, a government dictatorship, a war with multiple countries, civil-war and financial collapse. That's a lot. And we sure do have a lot to lose if any number of those dangers become reality. And they might. Yet there is one thing that can never be taken from us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written, "For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:35-39 If only this assurance of the Lords love outweighed every nagging anxiety of earthly loss. How do we counteract our fears and need for control? I believe we use those impulses to restrict the only thing we can - and thats ourselves. Self-control is the only control God asks us to manage. Then He takes care of the rest. When we finally come to terms with that simple reality, we can speak truth to lies. We can tell that pesky urge to have dominion over people or circumstances, that the only rule and reign necessary is that which the Holy spirit can provide for our own sinful souls. We can bridle ourselves with the fruits of the Spirit and govern our impulses with the grace of Christ. All we have control over is how we respond to the unpredictable situations around us. We can burst into anger and bitterness or anxiety and fear. We can be like our matriarch Eve and desire God's supremacy for ourselves. Or we can embody Christ. Be infused by the Spirit and model love and joy, peace and patience, kindness and goodness, faithfulness and self-control. If our actions were motivated out of that kind of good faith, we'd be far more pleasing to the Lord and productive in a complex world. We'd also be a non-anxious witness in deeply nerve-racking times. Which is what the people of God should be. Oh, how I wish I were that kind of witness. I need the Lord's help. And you probably do also. Let us never conduct ourselves as though we don't need spiritual help. As the pressures of concern tear at the seams of your soul and cause you to question the sufficiency of the Lord, remember your temporary place on earth. Reflect on His promise to never leave nor forsake you and meditate on His never-ending love for you. Put off all self-righteous desires for dominance and surrender to God. Do the hard-work of rooting out the spoiled need for an easy life and take comfort in the ultimate inheritance you have in Christ. Then, with His help and by His grace, control only yourself. For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control. 2 timothy 1:7

“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story” Orson Welles Life is brittle. It’s a tinder box and matchstick. Day after day, about to be scratched against a rough surface. Lit up. Burnt. Gone. It’s just as the teacher in Ecclesiastes says it is - Life is fleeting, like a passing mist. All vanishes like a vapor; everything is a great vanity. Theres a thick layer of smoke in the air that won’t settle or blow away or dissipate into wherever smoke goes. And it’s been here for months. Although its “unprecedented” like everything else in the news for the last three years, it is in fact, a new normal. Drought. How classic. Just another weather anomaly we have to get used to. This much beloved autumnal season has become a dreadful junction on the calendar. It's supposed to be filled with vibrant colours and lush grasses. But this year we've been given a wasteland of ash-covered browns and consistent air quality warnings. A season stunted by smog and unhealth. This brittle Fall is perhaps the best parable for the vapor reality we all live in. Do you feel it? There’s a dryness in my throat and burning in my chest, like I’ve been forced to smoke a pack a day against my will. My voice seems lower and darker. My skin itches. There's no moisture left. Not in the body or tree’s or air. The fire’s have won. As they increasingly do each year. Fire finds a way to enforce destruction most of the time, but this wilted and crispy landscape begs to be scorched all the more than usual. So with each day that the rain doesn't fall, a fresh hector, a new farm, another home gets sparked up and makes the news. This dehydration hits the spirit fast. It reminds us of the fragile nature of all things. It rings the Ecclesiastes bell. Smoke, nothing but smoke. Our arid windpipes call out for moisture and reprieve. For something more. Even though we know there won’t be more this side of heaven. What we can expect is more of this. More fires, more draught. More storms, more torrents. More "unprecedented" pain and suffering. Because nothing uncomfortable is actually unprecedented. We should expect it. And we should anticipate it everyday to some degree. We should. But we don’t. We expect precise seasons. We expect to know what’s coming next at all times. At least I do. And it's not until I pull back the veil of my own misunderstanding of the promises of God that I begin to relate to the depressive teacher in Ecclesiastes. About the trouble and the pain and the seeming meaningless of it all. God warned that man would make hellfire. And we did. Fortunately He also made promises of resolution. The grand narrative that He's writing is more than just trouble. And when I ponder that great storyline of God - I remember how it ends. If the story ends now than the story is a dystopian hell-scape of suffocating smoke. But this isn’t the end. Right now we live in the reality promised to us in John 16:33, about all the trouble in the world we'll have to endure. Like the easily lit dry bones of timber and carbon billows settling into the valley for belaboured lungs to breath in. This is just one of the many troubles promised. It echoes the words of that ancient critic and teacher that vanity is everywhere. In our toil, in our wisdom, in our self-indulgence. Hevel, Hevel, everything is utterly Hevel. Temporary, fleeting, perishable. Cinder, Cinder, everything is ash. The unexpected comfort in this, however, is that in all our toil and trouble, the story isn’t over yet. Jesus ends his warning with hope. As fires grow and meaningless feelings rise like embers in the night - an overcoming by the promised one is on the horizon. The one mounted on a horse. The one with a sword. The one who comes in resplendent goodness and glory, to place all things in heaven and earth under His feet. To rightsize every wrong and bring the awe-inspiring beauty of heaven down to snuff out the hellish fires we started on earth. These are the promises not yet seen. But are promises none-the-less. Hope in the fog. Life is brittle. Yes. There is smoke in the valley. And it sits and waits for the showers of heaven to come. The earth groans for renewal and our souls cry out for meaning. All creation longs for the quenching rain and reign of the Lord Jesus Christ. But praise be - the story isn’t over yet. And the forecast is good.

“It sounded to him like the noise of too many mouths that talk and too few minds that think.” ― Lisa Unger, Heartbroken There is nothing more tasty in times like these than to be a person with a really big platform. Which is easy to come by. More and more, anyone anywhere can build a stage and find an audience. Not many of us will earn a physical gathering of listeners but all of us can easily muster a digital one. As Christians we all have important thoughts to share, and if we could draw a mass audience to hear them, why wouldn't we? It'd be a missed opportunity not to, right? My unpopular feeling is the risks outweighs the potential good. I believe our greater concern ought to be more about having a robust output ethic, than creating an audience. Don't worry, I see the irony in myself - a person with a writing website - discussing this topic. Which is why I'll share my own journey on this matter. I've been writing in journals, word docs and blogs for as long as I could put pen to paper. It's an outlet I enjoy. And I've found great delight and meaning in the process. Although I have no idea what the future holds in terms of my writing, I hope to make much of Christ in the small ways I use this gift today. So for now, I write here. But when I first started a previous blog about 17 years ago, I told no one about it. My husband was the only soul who knew it existed, and even he rarely read it. That started to change later on as I began sharing certain posts on Facebook, but not much. Which in hindsight is a gift, because when I look back on my early writing, boy am I embarrassed. There is nothing quite like the tone-def confidence of the youthfully idealistic Christian. And it is this exact journey of writing and looking back that haunts me into submission today. I still desire to write and share and add reasonableness into the world. But I also desire not to look back with regret. It is grievous to discover your past work was mere arrogant hubris. I am truly grateful to God that He never gave me a wide audience when I was too young and thought I knew everything. Because as it turns out, I don't. Here is the great difficulty though, everyone has an audience now. You have one if you are active on any of the main social networks. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Tiktok give us a throng of folks we can preach to, shout at and rant to about everything we feel in the moment. But that's not all. If there is anything the pandemic normalized the most, it is podcasting. Now anyone can grab a friend or two and start an opinion podcast for yet another personal audience. We can blog (guilty), start a YouTube channel and become a social media influencer all at the same time. And with it we gather a crowd to spectate whatever it is we want to share. These spaces are a platform in the public square. And we all want one. Which is dangerous. Why? Because when pedestals are high, falls are painful. It's hard enough to get it right when only a few are listening. It's so much harder when the reach is significant. But no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. James 3:8-10 Having a podcast or YouTube channel or blog is not inherently wrong. Obviously, or I wouldn't be writing now. And I also listen to an obscene amount of podcasts (really, too many, its a problem). I love learning from wise, educated and humble people through any medium I can get my hands on. I steer clear from opinion or pundit influencers, but there is much value in hearing experts talk about an area of expertise and then learning from it. There are so many wonderful mediums for us to receive wise counsel and teaching from knowledgable people all over the world. It is a gift. But it can also be a curse. There is a flip side to this coin. James' warns strongly of the human tongue. Which ought to make us take pause and think through our own personal reasons for attaining wide platforms. The danger behind it all lies deep within our own heart. Often, we need these outlets because of our insatiable desire to weigh in on everything. We can't help but let our restless tongue flap about something we have no business discussing. Yet we must. And once we attain an even greater audience, we can't leave them waiting. Quantity over quality. It's dangerous to gather a group of likeminded people together and pump out content for them constantly. Why? Because thoughtless meanderings about untrained subjects will at some point turn into rants about opinion. And with the shifting sands of culture, weighing in on every menial issue will not age well. All it does is enhance opportunity for gossip, hearsay, slander and malice. For Christians, hypocrisy lies in wait. It's in our human nature to do this. Fools vent their anger, but the wise quietly hold it back. Proverbs 29:11 Most of us aren't experts but just young-christian-me with mediocre blogs. Lots of ego disguised as "truth-telling". It is so easy to preach to a choir about everything we know they want to hear for likes and subscribes. Ovation clicks are dopamine hits from strangers. Then before we know it we're just another teacher with a platform of people that love the way we tickle their ears without challenge (2 Tim 4:3). Our flesh is way too weak to handle the weight of glory that comes with much applause. And worse still, we train our listeners/readers to turn away from their ordained church authorities and look to their preferred online authorities for affirmation. The stakes are high at that point. Too many have gotten a platform, having never been affirmed by professors or publishers or elders. And there is a reason why this can be so harmful. Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly. James 3:1 As I've thought about this over the last many years, my writing has become less frequent. The racket of ideas and the never-ending onslaught of hot-takes became too much at some point. And I just couldn't add to the noise any longer. So I stopped. I was dry from not writing and dry from not wanting to. The problem though is that I still loved to write. And by God's grace, through a healthy break, it became clear to me that I have full autonomy and freedom in Christ to do it. We are free to make and create and curate. This is, in fact, the way God made us as image-bearers of Himself. And what He has gifted His people to do - they should do. Which was relieving for me to relearn all over again. Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God. 1 Peter 2:16 However in my learning about what true freedom in Christ is, I understand now more acutely how much I need wisdom to know when to speak and when to shut up. Lest I use my freedom for evil. I now have many more break pads when I write. And I have a whole new rhythm and output ethic to help with the haunting reality of possible regret. I never want to speak when I shouldn't. Although I rediscovered my purpose for writing and fully know there are times for me to use this freedom. I've also learned, it is not a freedom I get to flex always. My voice does not need to be added to every topic. And it better not be done in haste. There are too many warnings in Scripture for that. So now I have a writing practice that includes a lot of self-reflection in the form of Matthew 7:5, time, prayer meditation and Scripture study before I hit publish on any post. And even then, I've deleted posts upon further reflection. In fact most of my writing has gone unpublished. Which means this rhythm of writing makes content creation and audience building move at a glacial pace. But that's for the better. Let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance— Proverbs 1:5 It is just too easy to put out quickly produced, provocative idea's that I feel deeply in the moment, in the name of freedom, that may rile a crowd yet splinter my brothers and sisters in Christ. It's been done to death. On the other hand it sure is a lot harder to stay silent, learn, listen and seek guidance from wise people before ever writing a word. We are drawn in to these temptations because of pride, envy and self-centredness. And we must wrestle those demons out of us. Theres is no doubt that sin is at hand with this issue. However I think there is more to it than that. I also think we just want to be heard and understood. And the reason is because we have lost safe community to work through our struggles and concerns. The church is fractured. And the fragmentation began long before the pandemic put its knee on the body of Christ's neck. We've been in a community crisis for awhile. And now more than ever, all we want is to be known and loved. Deeply. We're just seeking it in all the wrong places. You see we don't need any media platform. We actually just need each other. In real life. We were made for connection and care and the identity crisis we face as a church could easily be solved by the family of God acting like the family of God. I know people with no platform. And somehow they aren't starved for affirmation like the rest of us. But when they are, their wisdom and maturity prompts them to go find it in more healthy places. Like community and service. We could do that too. And we could also create an output ethic for ourselves in the name of Christ that better reflects our convictions of faith in Him. We could restrain ourselves for the sake of unity if we wanted to do the hard thing instead of the easy thing. And we could let humility, courage and reason guide whatever platform we may have. But let's first ask ourselves why we want the pedestal at all. God see's every word written, every spoken conversation and every internal thought. He knows our motives, our intentions and every aspiration. Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of Him to whom we must give account. Hebrews 4:13 Which is why the stakes are high. All things will be uncovered one day. And we will have to live with some of the things we say and write for the rest of our lives. As the body of Christ, we must take stock of ourselves in times that tempt us to climb onto a platform and speak our mind. Who are we speaking to and why? Remember, dear Christian your greatest audience is of One. And His opinion alone will be the only one that matters in the end.

Many many years ago I remember sitting in my grandparents living room with my grandpa. It was always very warm in that little space which often induced sleepiness. He was a quiet man who struggled to hear, which made robust dialogue challenging. Trying to make conversation, I asked him what his favourite Bible verse was and he responded by saying it was Psalm 23. I remember being kind of disappointed. I don't really know why, I'm not sure what I was expecting. But I suppose I diminished this portion of scripture due to its overuse and popularity. Which I see now as immaturity on my part. Because he was right. This text is significant and it's fame is warranted. Many scripture's are important to study and meditate on during this cultural moment. But like my grandpa, I'm finding a special bond with the 23rd Psalm now more than ever. I'm sure you know it well. But perhaps you could use its stability and comfort like I do. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. This song of trust was written for such a time as this. An age fraught with so much fear. Just the first stanza reveals a level of comfort I'm not sure I can wrap my head around. Do you know the implications of what it means to say, I shall not want? Can we even fathom a posture so secure? These days, that seems impossible. Yet, it's not. What about the comfort of knowing the Lord desires our rest. Our laying down in green pastures and beside still waters is a priority for Him. Because that is what trust in the Lord's will actually looks like. This is the only place in which He can restore our soul. When we're anxiously trying to make our own will and way happen, there is no room for God to instill His peace into our inner-being. That only comes when we surrender control and lay down. We'll no doubt walk through dark times (much like these). And there will always be much to fear. Like there is today - illness, division, civil-unrest, war and an unclear future. Yet, as this hymn sings - He is with us. Our Heavenly Father is at the helm. And most importantly He is by our side. He's also reared and ready to protect us from evil. Fully equipped for the task, He will lovingly guide His children. How often do we walk in opposition to this truth? We fret and panic and seek hope in movements and human institutions. All while the Lord of the universe stands right next us and calls us to cling to Him alone. Our deeply hospitable and accommodating father not only wants our rest and comfort but He desires to sustain us while opposition watches. This is a picture of even our enemies seeing the goodness of God to His people. Our restoration is important to Him. An anointing of oil and an overflowing cup is a portrait of the loving rehabilitation He longs to give His people. No beleaguered saint can stay in their troubled state at the table of the Lord. And the promise of goodness and mercy for all days and into eternity is the hope we hold onto every step we take into the unknown. Because the house of the Lord is an eternal resting place where all these promises find their fullest form. Relief, security, comfort, sustenance and grace. This place is what we long for now. And our Great Shepherd is offering it to us both in the present and in the future. So what is there to fear? These promises are sure. And it is for this reason we can actually live in these green pastures. Any other source of temporary comfort is a silly and futile substitute for the glory of God's care. We can sit at this table now. But only if we allow Him to take us to it. He wants your soul to be at peace. So is it? This Psalm may be the most compelling apologetic we can model in front of people who don't know God. Especially in these confusing times. Some of the best kind of arguments we can make to prove the existence of the Lord, are the ones lived out peacefully in front of others. Because of this Psalm and many other Holy texts we have good reason to be a non-anxious presence before the eyes of our children and neighbours. And with this level of trust in the care of the Lord we can pass on this security to the many among us who are crippled with fear. My late grandpa lived through a lot of difficult history. He knew hunger and hard work. He saw oppression and tragedy. And He lived as one with much comfort and hope in the promises of God. He blessed the Lord for the tender hand of Christ. Because there was too much at stake to live any other way. The still waters of restoration are ours if we want it. Make us more like my grandpa, And find me in that meadow with the Good Shepherd.