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Psalm 56
A Miktam of David, when the Philistines seized him in Gath:1 Be gracious to me, God, for a man is trampling me;he fights and oppresses me all day long.2 My adversaries trample me all day,for many arrogantly fight against me. 3 When I am afraid,I will trust in you.4 In God, whose word I praise,in God I trust; I will not be afraid.What can mere mortals do to me? 5 They twist my words all day long;all their thoughts against me are evil.6 They stir up strife, they lurk,they watch my stepswhile they wait to take my life.7 Will they escape in spite of such sin?God, bring down the nations in wrath. 8 You yourself have recorded my wanderings.Put my tears…
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To anyone struggling with trust…
Join me for an insightful conversation with Eric Willis and Amy Cedrone. 0
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A Pattern of Prophecy
Clarification: they’re not the folks on TV spouting name-it-and-claim-it mumbo jumbo. Or Christian celebrities on conference circuits. Or those huddled in dimly-lit rooms whispering, “I just see x for you,” with x being anything from a new job to a medical diagnosis. They’re the school teachers and concert pianists and teenagers–everyday folks who have high views of Scripture and altruistic desires for widespread transformation. Their pursuit of purity, beauty, and unity keeps them listless…anxious…even depressed. They’re true prophets, and their lives often follow a rough-but-predictable pattern: see, speak, wait.[1] See. True prophets perceive what’s going on beneath the surface. Consider Elijah in 1 Kings 17-19, a man who peeled up…
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Disarm
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The Language of the Unheard
In 1965 over half the population of Dallas County, Alabama, was African American, yet accounted for a meager 2% of registered voters. After attempts to register these residents failed, Martin Luther King, Jr. came. Peaceful protests formed. Bloody Sunday ensued. King was shot. And violence erupted across the nation. “A riot is the language of the unheard.” Fifty years of peaceful attempts to procure the right for women to vote made little impact. By 1912 a new wave of suffragettes had flooded Britain’s shores, attacking clergy, bombing buildings, and terrorizing society. “A riot is the language of the unheard.” In the 1400’s Jan Hus confronted corruption in the church, specifically…
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Listening to My Black Brother: an interview
Ecclesiastes says there’s a time to speak and a time to be silent. Today I’m going to be silent, but I invite you to listen to one of my spiritual godfathers, a Black man living in north Dallas. His name is Dwayne. What happens within you when you see this ongoing brutality against people of color? There’s a flood of emotions: anger, terror, sadness. I wonder how this could happen. Why is there so much hate and disrespect for Black people and people of color? I wonder why and how long my people have to suffer. It’s like all the history triggers me. This has been going on for so…
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An Invitation to Lament
Everyone is grieving. Students mourn the ball games and proms they didn’t have. Folks agonize over the jobs and insurance they’ve lost. People ache after their loved one joined nearly a quarter of a million others killed by this “novel” virus. We’re all grieving . We need to. We need to wrestle and scream and plead with God to do something about the whole dadgum thing. Actually, we need to lament. Today I invite you to lament with me. We’ll journey together, interactively, so grab something to write with and get into a comfy chair. Begin by jotting down the first thoughts that come to mind when you hear the…
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Longing for Life After Corona
Last weekend I took to the streets, maintaining social distance, of course, to chat with perfect strangers about the corona situation. The responses were fascinating… 0
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Facing Anxiety? Here Are 2 Choices
Excitement fueled my journey toward Gatlinburg, Tennessee where friends awaited me for a weekend getaway. Dusk was setting as I reached Chattanooga, so my eyes struggled to adjust to the darkening roadway and approaching headlights. Somehow I navigated that huge bend of highway skirting Lookout Mountain and then, just as the road began to straighten out, my excitement bottomed out. Before me stood a wall of fog so dense and so massive that it shrouded all four lanes of interstate. I had exactly 12 seconds to make a decision: pull over on the shoulder OR put on the low beams, reduce my speed, and navigate the haze. Honestly, these are…
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Purpose in Anxiety?
I stared in silence at the panorama, utterly captivated by the beauty of Interlaken. My eyes slowly traced the massive white peaks of Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau contrasting against the azure sky. Blinking tears, I spied a red cogwheel train trekking up a nearby ridge. Curiosity nudged me toward the cliff and from my lofty perch I glimpsed a scene so pleasing it almost made me blush: cottony wisps of fog gently kissing the bashful waters of Lake Thun. Yes, I have a slight fascination with fog. Even as a child I’d wake up—early, like most farm kids do—and dash over to the window to see if the fleecy stuff…
