Does a reluctance to ask for help translate to a theology of prayer? It may. This week, 10 other “first things” take the place of the pride that binds.
All in Reflection Roundup
Does a reluctance to ask for help translate to a theology of prayer? It may. This week, 10 other “first things” take the place of the pride that binds.
Unity with God means moving through the world in constant communion: every bit of news, each conversation, every gaze met, offered up in prayer.
Friday is National Lemonade Day, so buy an extra cup and share it in Jesus’s name, confident that it makes a difference for eternity.
Let it go. Think the best. Give prayerful time for people to explain, then believe them. Breathe deep and experience the freedom not to flesh out every detail.
One way human nature reflects the imago Dei is in our instinct toward relationality. May we prayerfully and mindfully bridge these spaces in fresh ways.
Can anyone else relate to the image of crossing a river, standing on stones you’ve just thrown into the river from the comfort of the riverbank?
Remember the song, “Make new friends and keep the old; one is silver and the other’s gold”? All are precious partners in God’s mission.
God’s image is presented to the world through the people of God, who use all available resources to meet the needs of the world because that’s what God does for us.
The community of faith is able to truly embody unceasing prayer when we acknowledge the joint prayers of Christians around the world and throughout Christian history.
Music, poetry, the vulnerable submission of our blind spots to the examination of trusted others, and the empowerment of the Holy Spirit to breathe it all in. These are my prayers as we camp in new perspectives and different rhythms for a bit.
This week one of my colleagues suggested taking care of ourselves might be our most important job, then went on to wonder if we could actually consent to a less-anxious model for those in our midst.
The resurrection Spirit pursues us as we continually cycle through relational renewal with the evidential environment of the created world: with the people, the creatures, the living organisms therein.
When at a crossroads, not knowing whether to go to the right or to the left, trust the voice of God who says, “Here is my way; walk in it.”
Our ultimate powerlessness levels the human playing field yet serves to unite when we courageously join God’s movement, continually willing to dance the faithful steps of contemplation and action.
The doctrine of the Trinity is what the church represents as she bends knee to the other who is giving a hand up while standing on the shoulders of a third, infinitely in sync and completely acrobatic!
My first favorite memory verse was around age 14, and it happened to be Exod. 14:14, “The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to keep still.” Hmm, wonder if there’s something to that.
Because of your protection, I sing. I stay close to you; your right hand supports me.
Gathering one another for nurture, for centering, and allowing oneself to be gathered, for focus, admonition, and empowerment: this is the maternal work of God.
Liminality: it’s the ultimate “are we there yet?” And in fact, we’re not. If we’re honest, we’ll admit we don’t even know where there is, exactly, and lead with the spirit of contentment enjoying the missional pit stops with God while holding the destination loosely.
Is the voice of God always a word? Might it be found in a child’s exploration of a grandparent’s elderly, muscular hands? Is God’s voice in the soil they worked? Listen.