Bible Verse Challenge, Day 4: The Whole Truth

Most people know the passage in 1 Corinthians that begins, "Love is patient, love is kind ..." It's read at practically every wedding, and I bet some of you even know it by heart. But the verses that precede the iconic passage speak much more to me.

If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing. (1 Cor 13:1-3)

There's a famous quote from Ghandi that goes, "I like your Christ. But I do not like your Christians ... Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."

He speaks to a serious issue in all of Christianity. What we say we believe and how we live are often starkly, shamefully different. We're all sinners, and sometimes that comes through clearer than out redemption does.

We can be full of zeal for our faith, but that will mean nothing to anyone if we present it with cold, compassionless legalism. As the saying goes, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

At the same time, our humanity isn't a catch-all license to say and do whatever we please. We are broken, but that doesn't mean we're supposed to sit in that brokenness for the rest of our lives. God's mercy doesn't act as an excuse to continue to hurt ourselves and others.

Let's be honest — we're going to fail. But in those moments, willingness to admit it, apologize for it and work to repair the damage can make all the difference. That's why Confession is so important and beneficial. It keeps the ego in check and allows us the freedom to move forward.

The Gospel is about love, truth, justice, and equity. The way we talk about it and the way we live it out should reflect all of those things. When they don't, the message rings hollow and false to the people who most need to hear it.

A caveat, here: Trying to live as good examples of the Gospel does not mean faking it, hiding our struggles and never having a bad day (or week, or season). That's just as bad as showing no remorse for our shortcomings, if not worse. No one responds well to a faker or a liar.

Just be real about everything: Your trials, your frustrations, and the ultimate goodness of God over all of it. Tell your story as it is. The truth speaks volumes more than an airbrushed image ever will.

Bible Verse Challenge, Day 3: We Need Each Other

Today's verse is about relationships of any kind, and its message is simple.

Two are better than one: They get a good wage for their toil. If the one falls, the other will help the fallen one. But woe to the solitary person! If that one should fall, there is no other to help. (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10)

This verse hearkens back to one from Genesis, at the very beginning of it all: It is not good for man to be alone.

Regardless of what you believe about God or faith in general, I think most of us can agree that we humans were created with a desire for belonging.

We live, grow, bond and work in community. Like it or not, interaction with other people is at the core of who we are. We encourage and nurture each other through whatever life throws our way.

True, we all need time to be alone and recharge our batteries. But what happens when we don't want to deal with other people, or feel like we can't? What if we don't feel valued or safe?

We shut down. And soon, the only company we're left with is our own pain, anxiety, or shame.

Isolation dulls our minds and crushes our spirits. And chances are good that our relationships will suffer as well.

The same can be said for our life with God. When we pull away from Him, we cut ourselves off from the support and grace He wants to give us.

Nurturing those critical relationships take honesty, commitment and vulnerability. It might make us squirm in the moment, but it stretches our capacity to give and receive love, to heal, to forgive, and ultimately, to thrive.

Maybe it's time to call a friend you haven't seen in a while ... or have a heart-to-heart with a spouse ... or take five minutes to pray. Think about it.

Bible Verse Challenge, Day 2: Keep Moving

Today, I've chosen a verse that led to radical changes in my perspective on life following a breakup several years ago. I've felt it tug on me again lately.

“No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the kingdom of God." (Luke 9:62)

Admittedly, I have always been a pining sort of person, never quite satisfied with things, usually settling into a restless kind of contentment.

I ache for the seasons where life was simpler and the consequences of my current decisions less drastic.

And yet, at the same time, I yearn for a future that is brighter than this present moment. I'm hungry for more opportunities, new scenery, a stronger and more mature version of myself.

But here I am. For now, this is where God has placed me.

This temptation to live outside the here and now is especially strong lately. In 73 days, I'll be marrying a man who has been too far from me for too many years. We have a little home that begs to be filled with laughter and love. There are old and new friends waiting for me to arrive. There are new opportunities to work. There is ministry there, and my heart swells at the thought of finally getting my hands dirty.

There's a niche for me on that island. And with him. All I want is to be with him.

To do it, though, I need to leave my home. My family. My friends here. My job. The simple town that has cradled me for my entire life. This is all I've ever known. There are moments when my joy and hope for the future is punctuated with grief that leaves me breathless. I cling to the familiar and bury my head to hide from the unknowns.

Will I be a good wife? Will he really be there for me as he says? What about when children come? Can I really handle this?

But I know that self-doubt is just a distraction from the life God's called me to. Each season is a new opportunity to be molded by Him into something more beautiful.

And we'll never experience that if we spend life looking backward.

Bible Verse Challenge, Day 1: Strength and Courage

Over on Facebook, one of my best friends challenged me to share a Bible quote that's personally meaningful for each day this week. Since today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, I thought that today would be great to start the reflections.

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage; be not frightened, neither be dismayed; for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. (Joel 1:9)

I remember stumbling upon this verse a few years ago while preparing for my driver's license road test. I was so apprehensive about it, and seeing this was an eye-opener.

"Have I not commanded you? ... Be not frightened!"

If you ask me, that sounds like a gauntlet. Courage in the Christian life isn't a suggestion or a requirement — it's a necessity if we hope to carry on. This life is full of trials, and we'll never navigate them successfully with a frightened spirit.

But it's certainly easier said than done. As someone who struggles with generalized anxiety, it's easy to read a verse like this one and think that I've failed.

With time, though, I've learned that strength, courage and a stomach full of butterflies are not mutually exclusive.

So many people believe that strength is measured in lack of emotion or vulnerability. And similarly, many think that courage is boldness without a drop of hesitation.

Those are lies. Scripture is full of people who stand as proof of true courage — they are able to act, to speak, to live unapologetically for God even in the midst of their fear.

A courageous heart is one that says "Jesus, I trust you" with each shaky step onto the water. A strong soul is one who doesn't shy away from honesty, even when that means being vulnerable or admitting failure.

Yes, God sets a high bar for us with this command. But He does it with the faith and confidence that we can reach it. That should be an encouragement for all of us.

Love Well

There's a half-joke, half-proverb in the journalism world that reporters are typically encouraged to live by: Don't read the comments on your stories.

It's not worth the aggravation or the blood pressure spike. Most of the time, the people responding negatively aren't in the mood to listen to a response even if you offered one.

But comment threads are everywhere online. And lately I've made the mistake of reading through discussions in places I would normally expect some peace.

I don't think anyone will be surprised when I say that what I've found instead is a lot of toxic waste.

It comes from everyone, too: Conservatives, liberals, all races and creeds and sexual orientations. I'm not talking about heated disagreement, either — this is mud-slinging, vitriolic chaos.

The worst part is that, as the crude saying goes, shit flows downhill. The more brokenness I see around me, the more broken I feel.

Lately, I've picked up on a sneaky temptation slithering into the dark, dusty parts of my heart. It's anger, in all of its unpleasant forms. My temper and patience are short-lived. My tolerance for the difficult is next to nothing. Now that I recognize that, I'm taking active steps to change what I'm reading, watching and listening to. I'm feeling a lot better now, but the reality hasn't changed.

We are a fallen world that is rapidly forgetting how to live in peace.

It's been a brutal year. Ukraine is on fire. Ferguson, MO is consumed by riots. Minorities of every kind are being systematically and horrifically eliminated in the Middle East. One of the world's most beloved sources of laughter succumbed under the weight of crushing despair. And there's no end in sight to any of it.

My heart is weary. What's a Christian to do with this? Pray? People who don't understand our faith would say that God obviously stopped caring for us and our sad little pleas a long time ago, if He lives at all.

But in the midst of so much pain in the world, I've seen something else start to blossom: Deep compassion.

It's subtle and often silent, but it's there — So many of us, myself included, are awakening to a desire to do something. To help. To stop the bloodshed, both literal and figurative.

To them, I say we might not be able to end these conflicts, but we can plant a seed in our own corners of the world. We can love. We can give of ourselves to those in our reach that are aching inside. We can speak hope and life into our friends who are discouraged or our relationships that are broken. We can start over.

It's a little microcosm of the Gospel: To forgive when it's not deserved. To step up when we'd rather stick our heads in the sand. To see another's wounds and embrace them in spite of it simply because they're human, just like the rest of us.

Saint Therese of Lisieux said that picking up a pin for love's sake (God is love, remember) can convert a soul.

I believe her. That little way of hers can change the whole world. Don't feel helpless — do something, and do it now.

Love. And love well.

Staring at the Sky

So many of us straddle a fence.

We keep one foot firmly planted in the past, pining for the things we once had or replaying our failures.

The other is pointed toward the future, lost in a forever "someday," listing off all the things we're going to do ... eventually.

For me, life can sometimes be a giant list of "shoulds" — I should have said this or that, shouldn't go there, should do something tomorrow, next week, next year. Someone wise once told me, "Don't 'should' on yourself." (Read that aloud if you want a laugh!)

I take comfort in knowing I'm not alone in my occasionally misplaced focus. A few weeks ago, we celebrated the Ascension, a feast that marks Jesus' return to heaven after rising from the dead and spending some extra time with His disciples.

The scene laid out in Scripture is an interesting one. Jesus gathers the usual crowd together and promises that He's going to send them help (His Spirit) to spread His love to the entire world...

...And then He goes. Just like that.

The disciples just stood there, dumbfounded as usual. But can we blame them? The past three years of their lives have been full of mystery, unexplained parables, signs, wonders and miracles. They saw their hero suffer, die and then rise from the dead, only to disappear again now. 

That moment was probably an emotional suckerpunch not unlike the one they experienced following Jesus' crucifixion. Their hopes for a Messiah were utterly crushed as they returned to their old lives in despair.

But then Jesus returned, essentially saying, "Hey, we're not done here yet."

The same thing happens again here, when two angels appear to the group and ask the obvious: "Why are you standing there staring at the sky? This Jesus ... will return!"

There's an unspoken command here, too: "Get to work."

We're only given one life, and for all we know, we might only have today. There's no time to waste on sweating the past or waiting for the future to rescue us. We, too, have work to do. And God has already given us everything we need to thrive.

So what if we chose to be brave? What would our days look like if we lived — and loved — to the fullest?

Don't let yourself be satisfied with a fantasy. We were made to do extraordinary things, and we're not promised tomorrow to do them.

Remembering Maya Angelou: God Loves Me

A week ago, the world lost a brilliant, loving and ferocious woman. Maya Angelou was a poet, professor and civil rights advocate. She used a difficult life as a channel for bettering herself and empowering those around her to do the same.

I'll admit that I don't really have heroes in this world. But there is no woman in modern history who has inspired me more.

Dr. Angelou was also a Christian, and while the particulars of our faith differ, she expresses perfectly in this video a lesson that can be a struggle even for longtime believers.

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon her. May she and all the faithful departed, through the mercy of Christ, rest in peace.