We are both sinners and saints, dust and treasure, limited but with tremendous potential, fallen but loved.
Much to my discomfort, my recovering meth addict friends are teaching me that small-mindedness can have big consequences.
While we are getting our nails done, lawns manicured and to-go coffees poured, we are coming face to face with the world’s religious diversity.
Jesus calls his friends to deep and abiding love, the kind that sees not obligation but the joy of serving, of being, of vulnerable-but-safe connection.
Let me state the obvious and say that hierarchy and hate are at the root of white supremacy and pretty much all the other hate-filled expressions of protest that surface not just in our country but around the world.
What if this is not a stuck place but a spiritual incubator, a season of preparation much like what John the Baptist prophesied?
Inside every person, there are two sides that war with each other, and sometimes the side that works against our design wins a battle and we do things we don’t mean to do.
But what if our longings are not for things we can consume, but for something else entirely — something deeper, more legitimate, like Heaven, or the Kingdom to come or for deeper, more intimate communion with God?
“There is a tension in God’s economy between the one and the many — a tension God himself seems able to hold together.”
Kingdom solitude is not inward-focused or an end in itself; it is a God-focused state that empowers introverts ultimately to be more lovingly outward-focused at the appropriate times.