“We are not perfectly free until we live in pure hope.” I have read that line over and over. I’ve put it everywhere. On my mirror, in my car and on my computer as a reminder of where my hope comes from.
I am not a prayer warrior. Am I allowed to say that? I really struggle with prayer and deeply admire people who don’t. If prayer is one of your spiritual gifts, consider my lack-of-giftedness officially on your prayer list. My biggest problem isn’t that I’m uncomfortable praying out loud, or that I get too busy and forget to pray (although that does happen); it’s that...
We are in such an enormous swirl of emotion, action, education and anxiety. The unknown seems vast. The future feels foggy. It may at times, look a little bleak. I mean, Moses and his crew made sand angels in the desert for 40 years before they got to the promised land. We are just 6 months in.
Have you skimmed the headlines at any point in the last four months? Have you perused your social media feeds at least once since Spring Break, or should it be Spring Broke? I assume you have, so I assume you know what I know: the world is a hot mess. We’re experiencing disruption in every sphere and facet of our world, from an international scale to our daily lives.
That was the verse that my Dad challenged me with when I graduated high school. Funny thing – I always thought it was so convenient that the verse he gave me was so readily available on t shirts and mugs, but I also had enough Bible knowledge to know this verse was not the promise of an easy life or of the life that you planned for yourself.
Recently, I introduced my fourteen-year-old to the cult classic Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Watching it with him, I felt a need to make excuses for the film’s irreverence, adolescence, and general British-ness. (I feel the same urge now, admitting these parenting decisions to our whole church.) But watching it this time I also noticed a few one-liners aimed at more than a cheap laugh.