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I don’t live in a field fertile for evangelism. My earthly home is Door County, the beautiful Wisconsin peninsula that juts into Lake Michigan. Our year-round population is mostly white, wealthy, and elderly (all negative predictors for evangelism).

Yet the white bobbing heads remind me of fields white unto harvest. I’m helping to plant a home church with the Evangelical Free Church. Half our congregation is made up of people we met at pickleball.

Pickleball
Pickleball, the fastest-growing sport in America, is being played on converted tennis courts, in prison yards, on cruise ships, and at churches that are quickly setting up nets on their grounds to meet their neighbors.

Though it caught on first with the elderly, pickleball has spread to the young, with the fastest growth among those age 24 and younger. It’s inexpensive, easy to learn, and extremely social because there’s time on the sidelines for conversations while waiting for the next open court.

I’m thankful I became one of the avalanching number of players. Not only is it a fun way to get exercise, but it kicked me out of my Christian bubble and helped me join God in his adventure of bringing people to himself.

Invite Conversations
My friend Twila invited me to pickleball, and we’re alert together to those God seems to be wooing to himself. We pray for them, eager to connect with them if the door opens. As the years have passed, we’ve learned a lot about being winsome messengers, whether on the court or off.

Conversations are low-key, and we’ve become good listeners, trying to hear what might be keeping our friends from Christ. We don’t preach, but neither do we hide who we are. If someone asks, “What’s new with you, Dee?” I’ll say something that might pique her curiosity, perhaps mentioning my recent visit to a prison or how my visiting daughter commented on how our relationship is so much better than it was once. I hope she’ll ask, “What happened?”

If she does, I can tell her how God is changing hearts in prison—or changing my own heart since he revealed my nasty habit of making passive-aggressive comments. If I’m met with silence, I let the ball drop—but more often than not, she’ll volley back with a question.

Go Slow
Still, many are many wary of “evangelicals.” When one man found out Twila was married to a pastor, he told her, “I’d like to be friends with you, but the Christians I know are really pushy about their faith.”

Twila assured him that any faith conversations would only be at his initiative. From then on, they talked about their shared interests of gardening and music. One day, Twila slipped, telling him in her excitement about an answer to prayer. She stopped midsentence to apologize. But now the man wanted to hear, and he said, “No, no—I want to hear, for this is who you are.”

Their friendship grew deeper. We invited him and his wife over for meals and then to a series our church was doing with the ministry of Alpha. Both put their trust in Christ and began coming to church.

More Fruit
Marty was a friend I made at pickleball, and in time, she shared with me the heartache of her older brother’s murder when he was in college. It had devastated her mother and changed Marty’s childhood. We began getting together outside of pickleball to talk about why a good God might allow such a tragedy.

One day at pickleball, I felt led to invite Marty to a study on the Beatitudes. Marty was hesitant. “How much homework is there?”

“Not that much!” I was so eager for her to say yes.

Then Twila leaned forward with the truth: “Marty, you’ll get out as much as you put into it.” That challenge made Marty want to come.

The Beatitudes begin with the importance of facing our sin and admitting our need for forgiveness. “Blessed are those who mourn” means “Blessed are those who mourn their sin.”

Marty didn’t like it. She told me, “The problem is, Dee, I’m not a sinner.”

I’m so thankful the Lord silenced me, for normally I’d have had much to say. Instead, I prayed the Lord would somehow show her the truth.

Marty was so troubled by the sin discussion that she decided to skip that week’s Bible study and bike through our beautiful peninsula. A half hour into the study, Marty burst in, her face flushed with excitement. She said, “I was riding my bike and God showed me I’m a sinner. But he also loves me, and that’s why he died!”

A hush came over the living room. There’s nothing in this world as exciting as seeing God give new life.

It might sound silly to say that God is using pickleball to bring people to himself. But we’ve seen tempers tamed, marriages repaired, and souls saved among our pickleball friends. In an increasingly online and isolated world, having a physical place to connect over an interest, with time enough to have meaningful conversations, has been remarkably fruitful.

You could do the same thing in a group that gathers to run, hike, or discuss books at the library. Praise be to the Lord, who can use us anywhere.

TheGospelCoalition. How I Learned to Share My Faith on the Pickleball Court. Dee Brestin. March 7, 2024.

https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/share-faith-court/

In 1984, President Ronald Reagan issued a presidential proclamation designating the third Sunday of January as National Sanctity of Human Life Day. This has become a day when churches and pro-life organizations across America come together to reflect on the value of every human life, from conception to natural death. 

After the elections of 2024, this day brings a new level of importance. Missouri, the state where I live, recently passed Amendment 3, an initiative guaranteeing “the right to reproductive freedom.” It was a devastating blow that shifted Missouri from being one of the most pro-life states in the country to one of the least. 

A Personal Heartbreak and a Profound Truth

The sanctity of life isn’t just a theological or political issue for me—it’s deeply personal. My wife and I were still in our first year of marriage when she shared the exciting news that we were expecting our first child. I still remember the excitement that filled our hearts and home as we prepared for this new chapter of life.

At our first doctor’s visit, everything looked great, and we eagerly scheduled the follow-up appointment, where we would hear our baby’s heartbeat for the first time. We even brought a brand-new VHS tape to record the ultrasound and capture the moment forever. But that day didn’t unfold as we had hoped.

When the ultrasound technician began, something felt off. The joy and anticipation turned to silence. I’ll never forget the look on the doctor’s face as he gently explained that there was no heartbeat. Our precious baby—whom we later learned was a girl—was gone. The news crushed us, and our hearts felt a pain we had never known before.

That moment solidified my belief in the sanctity of human life. It wasn’t theoretical. I knew our daughter wasn’t just a “potential” life—she was a real person, fearfully and wonderfully made by God. Even though her life was brief, it mattered. She mattered. And her absence left a void we still feel today.

God, the Creator and Sustainer of Life

As a Christian, I firmly believe that God is the author of life. Scripture makes this clear:

Psalm 139:13-14 says, “For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

Jeremiah 1:5 tells us, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you.”

These verses remind us that every human life begins at conception, is known by God, and is created with a unique purpose. Life is sacred because it comes from Him and is not ours to take or devalue.

The Darkness of Abortion

Since 1973, when the Supreme Court ruled in Roe v. Wade, over 63 million lives have been lost to abortion in the United States. Let that sink in. That’s not just a number. It’s an incredible loss of lives, each one uniquely created in the image of God.

According to NPR, in 2023 alone, there were over 1,000,000 abortions. Yes, that is over one million. This number equals 2,739 per day, 114 per hour, or one every 31 seconds. These aren’t just statistics. They represent sons and daughters who never had the chance to take their first breath.

Abortion thrives in silence and darkness. It’s hidden in language like “choice” and “freedom,” but it’s anything but these. The truth is that abortion doesn’t just destroy the life of the unborn—it leaves deep scars on mothers, fathers, and families. As believers, we are called to shine the light of truth and love into this darkness.

What Can We Do

Sanctity of Human Life Sunday is more than a day of reflection; it’s a call to action. Here are some practical ways we can stand for life:

1. Pray for an end to abortion. Ask God to move in the hearts of lawmakers, doctors, mothers, and fathers to protect and value life.
2. Support local pro-life ministries. Volunteer at or donate to pregnancy resource centers and other organizations that serve women and families in crisis.
3. Be a voice for the voiceless. Advocate for policies and legislation that protect the unborn and promote a culture of life.
4. Offer grace and healing. For those who have experienced abortion, extend the hope and forgiveness found in Jesus Christ.

A Nation at a Crossroads

With the passage of Amendment 3, Missouri is now at a crossroads. Our state and our nation must decide whether to choose a culture that values and protects life or one that continues to devalue and destroy it. These decisions will shape the future for generations to come.

I hope in knowing that God is still sovereign and working, even in our brokenness. As Christians, we are called to be light in the darkness and stand for truth, even when it is difficult. We may not change the world overnight, but we can make a difference one life, one conversation, and one act of love at a time.

A Final Prayer

Sanctity of Human Life Sunday reminds us that every human life is precious and sacred because it is made in God’s image. From the unborn child to the elderly, from the disabled to the marginalized, every life has value and purpose.

Reflecting on this day, I remember this simple prayer: “Lord, break my heart for what breaks Yours.” May we honor the Creator by honoring His creation. May we never lose sight of the sacredness of human life. Let’s stand for life, one heart and one life at a time.

BaptistBibleTribune. The Sanctity of Human Life: A Personal and Eternal Perspective. January 24, 2025. Randy Harp.

https://www.tribune.org/the-sanctity-of-human-life-a-personal-and-eternal-perspective/

Read the first part of the article here. 

To Rebel for Your Soul

I also want you rebel for your soul. Reading isn’t just a rebellion for the sake of your mind; it’s rebellion for the good of your heart. Reading is war in service of worship.

Does that sound over the top? Maybe a bit far-fetched? Not when we bring the Bible into the picture.

Christians get called, rightly, “people of the Book.” God’s people meditate on God’s Word. And meditation goes deeper than reading. It means to sit, to ponder, to consider, to contemplate. The Bible calls for our gaze, not a glance.

The first and greatest commandment is to love the Lord our God with all our heart and with all our soul and with all our strength and with all our mind. How do we learn to love this God? Well, when Moses first delivered this command, he followed it up with instructions on how to make God’s Word the centerpiece of everyday life. The ancient Israelites were to repeat the words of the Word throughout the day, teaching them to their children, discussing them at home and on the road.

One of the biggest obstacles to this kind of Word-soaked life is the distraction of a digital age. We’ve lost the ability to experience the power of great poetry, or feel the weightiness of wonderful music, or stand and stare at a masterpiece of art. It’s often said, most works of art yield their secrets slowly. The same is true for God’s Word. The Bible makes demands of us. It calls for thought, for patience, and for devotion. The path to truly internalizing and digesting Scripture is rugged, intentionally so, for this is how the Spirit does his work in our lives.

But what about all the Christians in the past who couldn’t read? Were they unfaithful? No. Literacy doesn’t equal holiness. Some of the ghastliest atrocities our world has ever seen were committed by the well-read, while many a saint never learned to read or write. Reading may not be essential, but God’s Word is. Illiterate peasants cherished God’s Word by listening to it and committing it to memory.

Just imagine our forefathers and mothers of the faith in centuries past, with only a handful of books and maybe a tattered Bible passing into their possession over a lifetime. What would they say if they saw the thousands of Bible editions and tools and commentaries we have at our disposal? How does it make sense that even with all our resources, we don’t know the Scriptures as well as they did?

Meditation on God’s Word, contemplation of his wonders—this is basic Christian practice. To read and understand God’s Word is to mount an insurgency against the shallowness of an ever-scrolling word and to be rooted, like the tree that describes the righteous in Psalm 1—planted and fruit-bearing through delight in God’s law and meditation day and night. Reading can help you see, truly see, the glory of God. And the glory of God lights the way for you to truly see others.

Consider Jesus’s haunting question to Simon the Pharisee after a woman entered the house and washed Jesus’s feet with her tears: “Do you see this woman?” (Luke 7:44). Not “see” in the sense of acquiring knowledge, but see with the eyes of attention, to see with spiritual intuition. It’s the kind of sight that demands paying attention while stirring in oneself the compassion that destroys any attitude of superiority and changes the one looking.

What receives our attention? What is it we see? What are we missing? The Bible would have us be more attentive to where we give our attention.

To follow Jesus means to pay attention to him, to be like Mary of Bethany, who reclined at his feet and hung on his every word. Theologian John Webster writes,

In our world today, many voices seek our attention. Influencers everywhere hawk their wares. How tragic if we develop the capacity to attune to everything but the Word of the Lord. The most radical, countercultural practice we can cultivate today is an intensity in reading and listening to the Scriptures—a steadfast attention that refuses to allow anything to wrest our focus from the Bible. To listen until it hurts, as Jacob wrestled with God, refusing to let go until he was blessed.

Reading is the best way to rebel in a world that can glance at everything and gaze at nothing.

For God’s sake, and for your own, read.

TheGospelCoalition. Reading as Rebellion. September 11, 2025. Trevin Wax.

https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/trevin-wax/reading-rebellion/

I have smart friends who think that encouraging young people to begin a life of reading is a lost cause. They point to surveys showing a massive decline in book-reading across the board. They share alarming anecdotes from high school teachers and college professors who claim their students are incapable of absorbing an entire book. Research studies back up these stories and statistics. Scholars debate what the loss of reading does to our brains and what the decline might mean for our culture long-term.

Everyone agrees. We live in an age of vanishing readers—a digital desert where sustained attention has evaporated and the next generation risks losing its imaginative inheritance.

But we can still read! some say. Sure, we read snippets here and there wherever we scroll online, and we dip into an occasional article or post on a sports page or in a political forum. But reading a book, going about it the old-fashioned way, where you give yourself over to a thoughtful and sustained argument that unfolds over several chapters, or where you lose yourself in a novel alive with beauty and subtlety—this practice appears less and less common for all ages, but especially the young.

Reading just can’t compete with other habits and practices, my friends tell me. Young people don’t and won’t read. Pushing a book on them makes you resemble the parent cajoling a toddler to open up for a spoonful of mushy peas. “It’s good for you! Trust me!”

I know the stats. I’ve heard the stories. But I believe we’re humans, not robots. Trends aren’t determinative. We make choices. We have agency. Which is why I refuse to bow to the fatalism that marks too many takes on the decline in reading—the insultingly low expectations of teachers and commentators who throw up their hands and surrender the next generation to the power of the cultural tides.

I want you to rebel. That’s right. In today’s world, reading is an act of holy insurgency. I want you to ignore the chatter of parents and professors who claim you’re no longer able or willing to exercise your mind through reading. I want you to swim upstream against the currents that make it easy to settle for superficiality.

To Rebel for Yourself

First, I want you to rebel for your own good, so you can reclaim one of the greatest gifts you’ve received and one of the greatest gifts you can give: your attention.

Your attention is a sacred resource. That’s why so many organizations are after it. Life in the digital age is designed to capture your attention through perpetual distraction. To divert your powers of concentration so your eyes are drawn this way or that.

Iain McGilchrist, a renowned neuroscientist, makes the case that attention is more important than we realize. What we pay attention to, and how we pay attention, matters. Attention changes the way we see the world.

You know this already. When you’re hanging out with a friend and start to talk, your spirit deflates a little if your friend begins scrolling or texting during your conversation. You wonder about your importance, especially if no explanation follows as to why something online needs urgent attention in that moment.

Giving your attention to something is a way of assigning value. To fail to pay attention also makes a statement. “Attention is a moral act,” McGilchrist writes. “Attention has consequences."

No wonder so many people are competing for your mind space. The barrage of emails that flood your inbox, the clickbait headlines that startle you, the notifications that ping your phone, the apps and platforms that keep you scrolling or playing—they’re all designed to hook your heart. The landscape of your inner life is for sale.

The forces competing for your attention are winning. Even now, don’t you feel the little tug to jump into the stream, even if just for a minute or two, to see “what’s going on,” to dive back into the endless scroll of news stories, funny dances, prayer requests, or colorful advertisements? When you stream a movie or show, do you feel during the slow or quiet moments the itch to check your phone for news or play a round of a game you like? One screen isn’t enough to satisfy the need for stimulation, so you glance back and forth, from the bigger screen to the smaller, so you can “watch” and scroll or text or play. Multitasking isn’t only for work these days; we multitask our entertainment too.

Over time, our attention—one of the most valuable aspects of our humanity—gets spread so thin we have trouble concentrating on anyone or anything for long. We’re everywhere and nowhere all the time. We train our mental muscles to be ever on the lookout for the next bit of stimulation, while the muscles of sustained attention wither from disuse. Our inability to focus makes it hard to have long and meaningful conversations with other people. It weakens our capacity for deep thinking and consideration. It robs us of an emotional and intellectual life that goes deeper than the surface of whatever screen is most captivating in the moment.

This is just the way things are nowadays, people say. No. You can resist. You can stand out in a world of superficiality. I believe you want more for yourself. Or at least you want to want more.

Reading, especially when it’s challenging, is one way you rebel against all the corporations and influencers and platforms trampling the walls around the garden of your consciousness. Reading is setting a sentry at the gate, on guard against the horde of distracters intent on invading your mind space. Reading is clawing back your powers of attention so you can give yourself fully to the people in your life, so you can carefully weigh proposals and debates in society from multiple angles, so you can see today’s news through the lens of history and philosophy, so you can grow in wisdom and compassion, so you can savor the world’s greatest works of literature without the help of AI chatbot summaries.

Every time you power off your phone and pick up a book, you rebel. You haul yourself up onto a lifeboat in a sea of superficiality. You exercise your God-given mind and refuse to let your mental muscles atrophy. You defy the low expectations of those who say reading is a lost cause.

I want you to rebel for yourself. Drive a stake into the ground and tell the ever-encroaching attention vampires, “You will not colonize my mind.”

Conclusion next week .. and also good practice for reading multiple chapters.

TheGospelCoalition. Reading as Rebellion. September 11, 2025. Trevin Wax.

https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/trevin-wax/reading-rebellion/

Seasons of Apathy
Many Christians experience seasons of spiritual apathy when the heart seems miles behind what we know to be true in our minds. We might love the Lord with our minds but struggle with disconnected hearts. Sometimes these droughts of the soul are the result of neglected spiritual nourishment, but sometimes they seem to arrive without explanation. Praying is especially difficult when your heart feels disinterested, distracted, or devoid of emotion. It can feel awkward to pray for the desire to pray, but the Lord knows our hearts better than we do, and he knows what we need. When your heart feels cold toward the Lord, praying about prayer can be the kindling of the fire that warms your affections for Christ again.

Pray for the Lord to reveal any sin that is keeping you from prayer.
At times our hearts are resistant to prayer because we are holding on to sinful habits. We can’t walk in obedience to Christ or intimacy with him if we are clinging to pet sins or ignoring behaviors in opposition to following Jesus. If you know that your resistance to prayer stems from disobedience, pray to love him more than your sin. Because you have been set free from sin, you are no longer a slave to it. You are free! Ask the Lord to help you be who you really are in Christ, not who you used to be. And then walk in obedience.

When our hearts feel apathetic, it can be difficult to rightly see our sin. Perhaps you’re not sure if there is any sin inhibiting prayer. David prayed that the Lord would reveal any wicked ways in his heart, and we can do the same. “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous ways in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!” (Ps. 139:23–24) Because our hearts are deceptive, a regular examination helps us see ourselves as we really are, to see God as he really is, and to remember what Jesus did at the cross to reconcile us to a holy God. Pray for the Lord to reveal areas of sin you might be hardened or blind to. As he does, confess them and repent.

Pray for the Lord to stir your affections for him.
It’s not uncommon to have days when you feel dull towards the Lord. You might even feel embarrassed to confess that you cannot muster any affection towards the Lord. These feelings aren’t unique; we see them in the Psalms. Asaph wrote, “I was brutish and ignorant; I was like a beast toward you” (Ps. 73:22). But the Lord knows our weaknesses, and he has given us everything we need for life and godliness. The gift of prayer is that we can come boldly before the Lord, even when we don’t know what to say or how to feel. The Holy Spirit intercedes for us and Jesus is ever praying for us (see Rom. 8:26–27, Heb. 7:25).

Knowing that you aren’t praying alone, ask the Lord to awaken your heart to joy, love, and contentment in him. And then take steps to engage your heart with the beauty and kindness of the Lord. Preach the gospel to yourself, focus on God’s character in the word, meditate on a passage of Scripture so that it takes root deep down in your heart. Fix your gaze on Christ until you remember how much he loves you. Don’t be discouraged if there’s not an overnight change. The cumulative effects of looking to Christ in Scripture will change the way you think about the Lord. Fixing your gaze on Jesus may be a hard-won practice, but the Lord will work good from your efforts at renewing your mind.

Pray for and seek accountability.
Your prayers are never a solitary activity. The Spirit and the Son are interceding on your behalf as you pray to the Father. The Godhead is invested in your prayer life! Additionally, the church can be a gift to us when we struggle to engage with the Lord in prayer. If spiritual dryness or apathy are keeping you from regular, intentional prayer, ask the Lord to help you find a fellow church member who will both hold you accountable and pray for you.

Each week I meet with a friend from church. She asks questions about my spiritual disciplines and prays for me throughout the week in the areas where I’m lazy or weak. Prayerlessness has long been a topic of discussion; knowing that my friend is actually praying about my prayer life exhorts me to seek the Lord daily. I’m not the only one invested in my prayers! Praying with someone about your struggle to pray could revive your disinterested soul and remind you what a privilege it is to come before the Lord at any time.

Pray for an obedient heart.
When it comes down to it, how we feel matters less than obedience. Prayer is an act of both obedience and gratitude. Jesus tells us how to pray in the Lord’s prayer and begins with the assumption that we will pray. He said, “And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites,” and “when you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do” (Matt. 6:5,7 emphasis added). He also demonstrated the need for prayer by slipping away from the crowds and disciples to pray (see Matt. 14:23, Mark 1:35, John 17). The apostle Paul called believers to unceasing prayer many times in his epistles (see Eph. 6:18, Phil. 4:6–7, Col. 4:2, 1 Thess. 5:17–19). Jesus’s half-brother addressed several specific reasons for prayer in James 5:13–18. Believers are expected to pray, and believers must pray in obedience to Scripture. But the motivation behind this obedience isn’t duty; it’s gratitude.

The author of Hebrews charges believers to draw near to God the Father because of Jesus’s sacrifice at the cross. “Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh. . . let us draw near. . . ” (Heb. 10:19–20, 22). Prior to Christ’s coming, the people of God could only seek him through a Levitical priest at the tabernacle and later the temple. A curtain separated the people from God’s holy presence. But when Christ died for us at the cross, he bought us direct access to the Father. We must take advantage of such a gift and draw near to God in prayer because we can. We pray when we don’t feel like it because Jesus made it possible.

Pray for perseverance and practice it.
Our flesh would have us believe that we should give up when prayer feels hard. Surely a break is what we need! But it is more likely that abandoning prayer will extend a season of disaffection rather than shorten it. Disengaging from prayer isn’t the right answer. Perseverance is. Pressing forward in prayer is how we learn to really pray. Perseverance is how we get past the brick-wall feeling and walk with delight in the nearness of God.

Don Carson wrote that we should “pray long enough and honestly enough, at a single session, to get past the feeling of formalism and unreality that attends not a little praying. We are especially prone to such feelings when we pray for only a few minutes, rushing to be done with a mere duty. To enter the spirit of prayer we must stick to it for a while.” In other words, we must do as the Puritans encouraged and “pray until you pray.”

The cure for praying with a cold, apathetic heart is prayer itself. We pray for God to help us obey, to persevere, to abandon sins that entangle and distract, and to stir our affections for Christ anew. We obey by practicing prayer. We recite what is true about God and Jesus and our new status as heirs—not because God needs to be reminded but because we do. Over time, the ice will thaw, the heart will warm, and we will delight in the presence and love of God. All the hours of practicing prayer when our hearts are cold are never wasted. They are the path we travel to renewed love for conversation with the Lord.

* * *

Glenna Marshall is the author of Everyday Faithfulness: The Beauty of Ordinary Perseverance in a Demanding World.

Crossway. How to Pray When Your Heart Feels Cold. Glenna Marshall. June 9, 2020.

https://www.crossway.org/articles/how-to-pray-when-your-heart-feels-cold/