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I need Sunday morning at church; in person or watching at home. Every week it refreshes me and reminds that I can be my best self, but I can’t do it on my own. Through the Holy Spirit, bit by bit, He continues His sanctifying work. It’s not nearly as fast a process as I expected when I gave my life to Christ!

Seems that most Sunday mornings we barely make it out the door on time. God willing the kids are wearing something presentable, their hair is combed, they all have shoes on and now in this season, we each have a mask. More importantly though, I hope I haven’t been too cranky getting them out the door? The first of these we can usually manage. My kids are old enough that they can get themselves ready on their own. My attitude on the other hand, is far less predictable. In truth, too often I am the one who gets short at the least offense, because we might be late, or someone can’t find their coat on the way out. Surely there are other parents out there who feel the same way!

But somehow, once we sit down, whether it’s in the sanctuary or the parking lot in our camp chairs, I feel myself relax. It’s not that we made it on time or all look the part, I know that here I will be reminded that being a mama, wife, friend, sister, colleague, and neighbor matters as I bear the witness of Christ. And it matters BIG.

When I’m brought back to Christ’s feet in worship, communion, prayer, and the teaching of God’s Word, I’m reminded that how I show the world my hope in Christ is the most important thing. How I live the gospel daily, cannot be overlooked. Sunday morning puts me in that state of mind like nothing else. Yes, I read my Bible at home, have a daily devotional I study, we listen to worship music, and pray as a family and individually but for me, it is not the same as sitting with other believers. They are as messy as I am, and I am SO grateful.

This past Sunday morning as I attempted to juggle my sweet preschooler, Bible, sermon notes, that sweet preschooler’s snack, my coffee, pencil in my lap while all while holding an umbrella and taking notes on Pastor Frank’s sermon, it seemed nearly laughable! But this is the truth, being at church is just the reminder I need every week and those little annoyances are okay. Sitting under God’s word and worshipping with others, being reminded that we are to be the aroma of Christ to others, knowing that we are all sinners who struggle TOGETHER, that we are not in this alone, knowing that God’s grace is enough for me; that’s what I need again and again.

Being in church this season feels weird; watching a streamed service for many of us, for others wearing masks around the people you love, not getting to hug them, struggling to hear what they are saying through said masks, keeping your kids from getting too close to everyone and the countless other things that make church look different right now, they are irritations but, God willing, they are only for a season.

Let’s ask ourselves how can we continue to show our brothers and sisters in Christ, our friends and neighbors, family, and colleagues the hope we have in Christ this week? How will you and I live out the gospel in every area of our lives? Even when it’s hard. Even when you are juggling a million things and emotions are high.

I don’t know about you, but I’m grateful for Sunday mornings at church, whatever they look like. I hope that you are joining us either on-line if you are social distancing, or in-person with masks on. It is the one thing that always sets me back to center and in this season I need it more than ever!

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When I think back over the past few months and reflect on how God has worked in my life during the pandemic I honestly do not know where to even begin. I can think of all the days that God carried me through loneliness, uncertainty, anxiety and loved me even when I allowed these emotions to bring out the worst in me. I can think of the days I was filled with gratitude, especially when my eyes were opened to the deep pain and suffering of others while I sit safely with my family on our couch. However, if I had to really break it down, I think the work God has been doing in my life during this Pandemic really began many months ago, maybe even years.

My background is in marriage and family therapy. I chose that profession mainly because of one speaker at a conference in San Francisco. I cannot remember her name to give credit, but her entire talk was built around this:

When we have a safe and supportive family we are free to go out and be the best versions of ourselves. When our family unit is broken, we are paralyzed and unable to fully be the people God created us to be. I have realized through finding a church family and just a few months later entering the Covid-19 Pandemic, that this is not only true for immediate, biological families, but for church families as well.

The work God has been doing in my life during this Pandemic begun long ago when I first prayed for a church home and a community to authentically do life with. God answered when he drew my family to Mountain Christian Church. After attending for just a few weeks we not only felt welcome but like our presence mattered.

A month later I joined a woman’s bible study and was welcomed with open arms. Following this we joined a home group with whom we have laughed and cried and prayed with. This home group in a span of a few months became a second or third family. God then blessed us with an amazing realtor that we met through church and she journeyed with us as God provided the perfect home with the best neighbors. Through beginning a Titus 2 woman’s study I have also found woman to encourage me to live out of joyful obedience to the call God has placed on my life (actually all of our lives) to live in such a way that brings Him glory.

Because God has answered a prayer and because He is faithful even when I have no idea what he is up to-I have found a place to call home that is safe, secure, and healthy. I have found the kind of home that is not contained in a building but in the people who utilize it. I believe with my whole heart that when we have a safe place to grow, we truly have no choice but to be transformed. I still struggle with feeling anxious or lonely at times during social isolation, but the emotions are fleeting, and God’s amazing gift of community has been the gift that keeps on giving.

I was reading in the book of Nehemiah recently and came across a single word in a single verse that has been convicting me for a couple of weeks now. Nehemiah 3 talks about a bunch of individuals working on various parts of the wall during the rebuilding of Jerusalem. It’s some pretty dry reading if I’m honest. The one verse that stood out to me though, was verse 20. “After him Baruch the son of Zabbai zealously repaired another section, from the angle to the doorway of the house of Eliashib the high priest” (NASB). If you read through the whole chapter, you’ll see basically the same sentence with a different worker and a different part of the wall in each verse with one exception. No other verse includes the word ‘zealously.’ This may seem like a minor detail, but it’s in the scripture, so I think God put it there for a reason. This Baruch guy worked so hard that Nehemiah (under the inspiration of God) felt compelled to declare that he had worked zealously.

Now it’s important to note that in the next chapter Nehemiah tells us that the men building this wall are building with one hand and holding their swords in their other hand because they could be attacked by their enemies at any moment. If you ask me, I’d say that every single worker there had a zealous commitment to the work at hand, but only Baruch was called out. In fact, the word zeal doesn’t even show up anywhere else in the entire book of Nehemiah. There isn’t an explanation as to why God sees fit to call out Baruch in this way, it just says he zealously repaired. Baruch isn’t given a backstory or much mention at all elsewhere and I don’t remember reading about him anywhere else in the Bible, but here he is called zealous.

I’ve been convicted about this verse the last couple of weeks. It’s caused me to ask some questions.

Am I doing whatever work I do with the kind of commitment that is fitting for one who serves Almighty God?

Am I giving Him my all?

Am I serving Him to the extent that if I were to be mentioned today it would be said that I served zealously?

Reading about the labor done by this entire group makes me feel weak at the thought of serving zealously when compared to those around me. I can never be that exceptional. That’s not the point though. Baruch wasn’t comparing himself to those working on the wall around him. He simply worked his part of the wall. As zealously as he may have worked, all he did was his part. This was likely the greatest trial of his life and he stood up and faced it with zeal!

What is your trial?

What is your part of the wall?

What is the labor God has called you to today?

Is there a way that you can do it with more fervor for God?

We’ll all fall short at some point, but the least we can do for the God of the universe is give Him our best. Who knows? Maybe one day God will call you zealous too.

We have been looking for ways to deepen our worship together as a family, and the coronavirus quarantine has brought unexpected opportunities to do just that; blessings can come when you least expcect them can't they?! For example, over the last couple months or so, we’ve eaten almost every meal together as a family. Which also means we’re praying together a lot more.

Early on, when we didn’t know just how bad the virus could get, if we’d get sick or not, if life as we knew it would forever be altered, we resolved to focus on gratitude and thanking God for the life we did have, the health we did enjoy, and the predictability we took for granted every morning at the start of a day.

After a few times of showing our gratitude in this way, we started to feel we were too limited by our words. Try as we may, we were starting to repeat ourselves. Our external rituals were becoming inadequate reflections of the internal state we wished to cultivate.

I started to read a Psalm every day at lunch and immediately our vocabulary of praise and worship expanded. Now we were giving thanks to God for creating the heavens and the stars (Ps. 136); for knowing our every thought (Ps. 139); for his goodness (Ps .145); for being a rock and sanctuary in trouble (Ps. 18); for reigning supreme over all earthly affairs (Ps. 47); and cleansing us from sin (Ps. 51) and so many other things.

Soon the kids asked if they could be the ones to read psalms, which has been a real blessing. They take such pride in lugging their Bibles to the table and turning to the psalm they picked out to read that day. Even the little one, who can’t read, will open his children’s picture Bible (sometimes upside down) and recite from memory the Lord’s Prayer as best he can.

There were some hiccups in the beginning. My kids had seen me use a highlighter when I read the Bible, so naturally they found some permanent markers and “highlighted” what they wanted to read. I winced a bit, seeing their Bibles marked up in all sorts of colors, pages folded and marked up. I wanted them to be more meticulous and tidy, and treat the Bible as a sacred object. But then I realized, this is even better. This was the whole point of wanting to share scripture with them, for them to engage it on their own terms. And they did finally start using the right highlighters.

It took me a while to get used to letting the kids pick which psalms they read. The first couple days we were treated to kids reading about God striking enemies in the face and pouring out burning coals on the wicked. I told them to find psalms that were happier or less violent. My wife Elin wisely suggested we shouldn’t restrict them like that else they end up with a one-dimensional view of God.

And so we’ve settled into a sweet rhythm. By the grace of God I was able to get out of the way. The kids now pick a wide range of psalms. We’ve added to our daily lunch ritual along the way. We now ask them why they chose that psalm, what they liked about it. Then we ask a question or two about what something meant. And we’re learning to pray the psalm, say God’s words back to him in worship.

Lunch time, which is to say Psalm time, has become a real oasis. There are days when I get to the lunch table stressed or distracted because I’m on the phone with a client, days when frankly I want to just eat fast, and then I look around the table, Bibles open, faces eager and I relax a bit. It’s a relief that this doesn’t all depend on me and my particular mood. We have grown into a community of believers, every one of us coming to the table with something to share, ready to encourage the other.

There have been some hard times in these days of quarantine. We had an uncle die of coronavirus. We’ve had spells of fear and moments of uncertainty. And that’s when I’m most thankful we haven’t been chasing a one dimensional God. That’s why all the psalms are important, not just the “happy” ones. Prayer gives us a passport into the wild country of death and dying and sickness and cruelty and brokenness. We can venture forth, tethered to gratitude, the certainty of God’s character, and the hope of our eternal joy in Christ.

Talk about life-changing….

I remember the first time I realized I could store scripture in my mind.  I was 10, and a VBS leader had challenged my group to memorize all of James 1 over the course of a week.  I spent a ton of time rehearsing what I read…line by line, passage by passage. I have a clear memory of repeating verses from the chapter in a dressing room at the mall while my mom tried on clothes. For the first time in my life, I was being immersed in truth.

It absolutely changed my life. Though I received a massive bag of M&Ms at the end of that week for having successfully memorized the entire chapter, the spiritual rewards I’ve reaped from then on have been far greater. (Don’t take that statement lightly.  I LOOOOVE M&Ms.)

Growing up, I had always cared about honoring God.  I just never knew, really, how to do it or whether I would slip up at any given moment.  And then, what would I do about my slip-ups?  I often felt that He was far off and was not sure how to access Him, or even if I was worthy to access Him.  The Bible always seemed too big and vast for me.  Where would I even start?  I felt reading it was for people much smarter and older than I.  Finding that I could store God’s own words in my heart was revolutionary for me.  No matter where I was or what circumstance had befallen me, I had direct access to my heavenly Father, His wisdom, His comfort, His peace, His strength.  His word was being stored in my heart as a stock-pile of riches, nourishment, and weapons for battle.

As a parent, I’ve flailed and failed over and over at my many attempts to grow my children spiritually.  Despite my commitment to our daily devotions, our countless conversations (in which they often tune me out), and all my other strivings to get them to desire God, I’ve found that I really can’t change their hearts.  I can’t make them choose Jesus.  I can’t bring transformation in their lives.  I can’t even really convict them of sin…though I try.  The truth is that God’s power is not found in my striving.  As I learned at the age of 10, it is God’s word that holds the power to do all of this and more.

“All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work.” - 2 Timothy 3:16-17

Teaching, reproof, correction, instruction for righteousness….sure sounds a lot like parenting.  That they may be adequate, equipped for every good work….this is what my heart longs for for my children.

And so, the most important and effective thing I do to invest in our kids spiritually is that very same discipline that opened my eyes to the treasure-trove of scripture all those years ago.  We memorize God’s word together.  This is not me teaching and testing them.  This is us at the kitchen table, repeating a chunk of God’s words together, often with hand motions that help us remember what comes next.  This is me messing it up and having to be corrected.  This is me admitting that I don’t know what is meaningful about my head being anointed with oil and then having to go look it up.  This is me trusting that God’s words will have greater effect in all of our lives than any words I could say.

Levi told me a couple mornings ago that he’d had a nightmare the night before.  Normally, he has a very hard time going back to sleep after having bad dreams.  This time, though, he hadn’t come upstairs to find comfort.  He’d come to his heavenly Father through His word.  He said that he began reciting the current passage we are working on, Psalm 121:  “I lift up my eyes to the mountains.  From where does my help come?  My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth…”. He said he was able to fall quickly back to sleep.  I thanked God for this experience for Levi.  He sought God out on his own on the basis of His word and found Him able and willing to meet his immediate need. 

This is no revolutionary concept.  It is merely seeking out God together and practicing the discipline of storing His word in our hearts.  We do it together because I need it just as badly as they do.  It’s so good for us to go to the diamond mine of God’s word together, joyfully gathering as much as we can hold each day.  You don’t have to be a Bible scholar to do this.  All of God’s word is worth our time to consider and store in our hearts.  If you need a good place to start, check out Psalm 121 with us! 

As you can see from our video, we are still working on getting it right.  However, as you can see from Levi’s bad dream, you can be in process of getting it right and still experience the effectiveness of the scripture’s work in your heart and mind!