From the onset of creation, God knew how this would all go. Not only is He the beginning, middle, and end, but He created the beginning, middle, and end.

He wants us to hold on to what’s always been: His love, His promises, His goodness, His justice, His discipline.
He wants us to embrace what’s new: our ever-evolving selves, the gifts he gives us as he keeps us moving in our stories.

To remain present in one’s faith is something that Jesus did all the way through the crucifixion experience. He stayed exactly where he was; in body he was forced to, but in mind and body he had a choice. In mind and spirit Jesus could have easily escaped; he could have thought about his times as a young boy or he could have dreamed about what might be next. Instead, he stayed there - in the pain, in the sacrifice, in the service - through the entire experience. And because of that full presence, we have eternal life.

To remain present in one’s faith is something that Jesus did all the way through the crucifixion experience. He stayed exactly where he was; in body he was forced to, but in mind and body he had a choice. In mind and spirit Jesus could have easily escaped; he could have thought about his times as a young boy or he could have dreamed about what might be next. Instead, he stayed there - in the pain, in the sacrifice, in the service - through the entire experience. And because of that full presence, we have eternal life.

Whatever you’re about to re-introduce into your life when Lent is over, remember the refuge you’ve taken in the Lord these last 44 days. Remember that when we can’t taste and see what we are used to when it comes to finding things that fill us up, bring us joy, or make us happy, your heavenly Father loves you so much and His goodness is always ready for you. Always.

And when we put pressure on ourselves to be perfect, we fail. A hundred times over, we fail. And we forget that we’re given grace for the moment, we’re given grace for our insufficiencies. We are born with a clean slate and we are born with insufficiencies. This is the way it’s supposed to be.

Sometimes I think we make an idol out of belonging. We search for it everywhere: in books, movies, tv shows, our spouse, our children, our friends, a dancefloor, a small group, a yoga studio, a music studio, in front of a piano, on a stage, in an office.

And in making an idol of belonging, we make the mistake of not asking God, where do I belong? where should I be/go? what should I do/see/say here?

Living down south for 15 years, that tradition definitely disappeared. I can’t say I saw it once at any dinner I attended while I lived away, and though I was confirmed Catholic at 13, my husband didn’t grow up with it so we just didn’t carry it on. Now that we’re back home, my dad and step-mom do it every night at dinner but with this specific prayer.

If this was 2002, it would be way less energy. Write the thing, publish the thing, and then share it through email to friends or on the one and only social media site (what’s that?) available. Because people had just 2 things bookmarked: MYSPACE and probably Yahoo search or Ask Jeeves.

I thought I’d write 40, but it looks like I’m writing 47.

How many sentences in your day start with I thought…

We can pray all of our words, not just the scripted ones. Bianco Olthoff posted a beautiful graphic on prayer last week. (See it here.) It says: Prayers work even when they are short, weak & poorly worded. So they don’t have to be fancy. But there is something about a prayer like the Our Father that brings a sense of reverence, that harkens back to when Jesus actually walked the earth. Plus, they’re the words Jesus said to start with when we don’t know where to start. And it is often that I don’t know where to start in anything.

When we’re in the proverbial wilderness, we inevitably reach a point where we’re hungry. We’re hungry for replenishment, for answers, for truth, for clarity.