Lord Jesus, how can it possibly be December 1^st already? All month long, please fuel our wonder and enflame our hearts with yourself. Take us “further up and further in”—slower and deeper into your truth, goodness, and beauty. We want to savor (not speed) our way through the coming weeks and treasured Scriptures about your two comings. Like this one…

Isaiah saw your coming as the arrival of our promised King—yet with images of shocking tenderness and deep affection. To be tended as vulnerable lambs, carried close to your heart all the way Home—what more could we possibly desire? Help us with our unbelief, Jesus.

This is who you are as our Good Shepherd December 1, 2024. But your journey from heaven took you first to the cradle, then to cross, on to the crown you now wear as you ruler of heaven and earth. Our journey into your arms took us through embracing you as the Lamb of God—the sacrifice for our sins, that we might know you as our loving Shepherd and perfect King. Hallelujah for the Gospel!

Jesus, we take Isaiah’s charge seriously. We too can shout with fearless joy because of who you are and what you have done for us. We know these things, the story, Christmas songs, and the rest. Heck, some of us already have our Nativity sets up. But, Jesus, help us KNOW them with fresh power, wonder, and adoring love. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, the season of Advent officially begins tomorrow, Dec. 1. Whether we’re “Advent-purists,” or those who place little emphasis on church calendar dates and liturgical rhythms, I have a very specific prayer request for all my praying friends. May December 2024 find us “busy” with slowing down, quieting our hearts, focusing our gaze, and setting our affection on you, Jesus.

The Old Testament’s prophets were “wired and lit up” as they wrote of your coming(s), and the grace that comes to us through your life, death, and resurrection. Even angels were/are filled with awe and joy as they ponder your unparalleled love for us, and everything you accomplished by your 1^st coming and will complete at your 2^nd coming.

Stir the same within us, Jesus. You know our darkest struggles and our most holy longings. You know what you have in store for us and what we still don’t understand about you. You know the real issues lurking below the surface of our anger, anxieties, and apathy—and you love us as no one else. However you choose to do it—by whatever means you joyfully decree, please make December 2024 a month in which we recenter on you, Jesus—a month of Spirit-renewed love in us, and whole-heart rest in you. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, we’ve never been more grateful for your first coming and more eager for your second. But while we intensify our cry, “How Long O Lord?”, we rest in your promise never to leave or forsake us (Heb.13:5). We will never experience a Christ-absent day. Hallelujah, and thank you. In this sense, we never have to pray, “Jesus, please show up,” for you are always with us and for us. You are never a “no show.”

However, we do love the way you give us “little-‘a’-Advents.” You come to us by the Holy Spirit with need-shaped grace (Heb.4:16) and mercy-in-the moment help (Acts 7:55)—supernatural aid for all kinds of aches, issues, and challenges (2Cor.12:9; Rev.1:12-18). For the 2^nd time, Hallelujah, and thank you, Jesus.

For the rest of this Thanksgiving weekend, and during the whole season of Advent, we look to you for some (many) of these “moments.” Do more than we can ask or imagine—and there’s a lot we can both ask and imagine, Jesus. Thaw our chilled, ho-hum, whatever hearts. Give us hope and love where we have given up on certain people and old, “moldy” situations.

Jesus, give us a fresh and clear vision of your empty tomb, occupied throne, joyful heart. Your government and peace are increasing all the time and in every place. For the 3^rd time, Hallelujah, thank you, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, of the 10,000 things for which we’re grateful today, none surpasses the “indescribable gift” of the Gospel. You loved us so much you sent Jesus into the world—not as our moral model to follow, but as our perfect Substitute to receive and trust.

We needed forgiveness and righteousness, and you freely, fully gave us both in Christ. We’ll never be more forgiven than we are today, nor more completely justified. We also needed belonging and belovedness, so you made us your children and heirs. You cannot love us more than you already do, and your delight in us won’t increase/decrease. Hallelujah, and thank you!

We need—that’s right Abba, we are needy on this Thanksgiving Day. What do we need? We need/crave/long to live out of our belovedness—not making our joy contingent on anything outside of us. In our minds and hearts, we know what we wish/wished for this day, but you know what you’ve planned and will provide.

Free us to be less childish about what we can’t control and more childlike in our freedom, presence, and spontaneity. May your Spirit be powerfully at work in our hearts today. We’d love suspensions to be raised—like on the Day of Pentecost, when onlookers thought the newly Spirit-filled community had been drinking “liquid spirits” at 9 o’clock in the morning (Acts 2:15).

When you throw a party and banquet, Abba, it continues even when some of those invited don’t show up (Lk.14:15-22)—and when some of those present don’t enter in (Lk.15:25-32). Your mercy, grace, and love are extravagant—even outlandish. Love in us and through us, all day long, Abba. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, it’s all here in this one passage—the wonders of your love, the essence of your being, and our calling every moment. As surely as a lot of kitchen prep-work will be going on today, so also we prepare our hearts. Whatever Thanksgiving 2024 holds for us, you hold us tighter.

Because of your great love for us in Jesus, we don’t have to be afraid of the risks of love. May your perfect love continue to drive out our fears—including fears related to the awkwardness of new and absent faces, struggles in our own hearts, tensions between friends and family, the first Thanksgiving after a funeral or a breakup—whatever our scenario this year, grant us a freedom to rely on your love to a degree and in ways that even shocks us.

Give us kind, present, playful hearts, Abba. Free us from the “need” to babysit anybody’s emotions, or read too much into anyone’s body language. May your welcome be more real than our worries—your peace more obvious than our concerns. Supersize your love in our hearts and in our midst. None of us is beyond either the need or reach of your grace. At the end of the day, there won’t be an end to your mercy, kindness, and ongoing work in the lives of people we love. Hallelujah, thank you, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, of this I am sure. Giving thanks often precedes feeling grateful. When I’m mopey, sulky, in a slight funk or on the verge of a scowl—mindful gratitude is the best thing I can do. Not merely to cheer myself up, but to return to Gospel-sanity. No question—my thanks-worthy list is 100 times longer than my whine-worthy list.

Starting here: Abba, thank you for 100% forgiveness—for hiding my life in Christ, dressing me in Jesus’ righteousness, and making me your child. You can’t love me more, and you shan’t love me less. I don’t need more, though you give so much more. Thank you for sovereignly ruling over all things all the time, no exceptions. Thank you for steadfastly working in all things for my good all the time, no exceptions.

Continuing here: Thank you for guaranteeing evil and injustice, Alzheimer’s and cancer, meanness and hurting all have expiration dates—along with imperfect holiday gatherings and still-hard-to-understand-relational dynamics.

Continuing here: Thank you for 52 years of grace-needing-and-grace-receiving marriage to Darlene—for two awesome kids + their spouses, and 4 spectacular “grands” + their pets. Thank you for friends with whom I can fly fish and chit chat, marinate in the Gospel and serve Jesus in my 70’s—be somber and silly, at our worse and at our best, laugh loudly and repent easily.

Continuing here: Thank you for your promise to complete your work in us, and for Jesus’ commitment to finish making all things new. Thank you “it” won’t always hurt this bad—no matter our “it” or “its.” Father, thank you that Jesus is coming soon, and that we’re almost Home. So Very Amen

Jesus, I love Thanksgiving—and its culinary accouterments like pumpkin spice lattes, cranberry relish with walnuts from The Fresh Market—and Darlene’s sweet potato casserole with apricot preserves, a bit of maple syrup, and perfectly bronzed, melted marshmallows. I’ll choose sear-crusted NY strip steaks over turkey or ham. And for dessert, make it ramped-up-with-spices pumpkin pie, and flourless chocolate cake with different sauces and toppings options

But 10,000 times more so, I’ll take a gathering of family and friends where the menu starts with a front-door welcome of your peace, along with the aroma of no-judgment acceptance filling the room. Then come multiple appetizers of Abba’s kindness, your grace as the main entrée, and a vast array of sides each revealing your goodness and beauty. This is more prophetic than poetic—for one Day we WILL feast in the house of Zion—with all put right, all things new, and all things beautiful. Hallelujah, and thank you, Lord.

Jesus, as we live and love towards that Day, free us to choose your “absolute goodness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit” over other options. This year—no matter our menu, agreed upon side-down time, choice of linen napkins or paper towels, dress code of “church clothes” or any-thing-that’s-comfortable—may loving well take precedent over everything else. No matter who chooses to come or not, no matter the weather outside our homes or the relational temperature inside our hearts—may we truly believe that “the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself in love” (Gal.5:6). So Very Amen.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds” (Jms.1:2). “We rejoice in our suffering because it is producing patient endurance in us” (Rom.5:3).

Dear Father, Habakkuk prayed, “Even though we have blossomless fig trees and grapeless vines—though we have crop failures and empty barns … yet I will rejoice in the LORD! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation! The Sovereign LORD is my strength!” (Hab.3:17-19)—to which we add our prayer:

Abba, precisely because you are our Sovereign LORD and loving Father, whatever you script for our next several weeks—“trials of many kinds” (Jms.1:2), grace-bombs of the “pleasures at your right hand” dropped onto us (Ps.16:11)—whether there are empty chairs at our tables, unexpected angels showing up, or encounters with things in the “beyond all we could ask or imagine” category (Eph.3:20)—we purpose to love you, trust you, rest in your love, and grow in Spirit-joy.

All this Thanksgiving week—and throughout Advent, may we see our names written in heaven’s book more clearly than the disappoints we experience in our journey Home. May we spend the currency of grace on each other like it’ll never run out—because it won’t. May we experience Jesus’ prayers for our joy being answered even before the tears dry on our faces and the Day of no more brokenness arrives. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, it’s not a bit of trivia, but the trumpeting of the best news ever. The last command in the Bible isn’t “Feel bad, try harder!” But “Come, thirsty ones! Come, desiring ones! Come and take the free gift of the water of life.” As we transition into Thanksgiving week tomorrow, that’s the “Spirit” we’d love to permeate our whole week..

Invitation not indictment, welcome not worry, party not pressure—may the generosity of grace and the gladness of your heart fill our holiday season and gatherings. Starting with ourselves, Jesus—may “the water of life” be more real to us than the weight of the world and worries about our families.

You never commend denial, but you always command delight—delight in who you are, Jesus; delight in your promise to work in all things for our good; delight in your delight in us—(which is the hardest to believe).

So Jesus, about next week—we have our plans and ideal in mind, but we humbly surrender to what you have in mind and heart. We pray for all who will be present, and for those who won’t be there—for whatever reason. Whenever you open a door, the only people who come in equally need mercy, grace, and love. Whenever you set a table the bread of grace-upon-grace is always served, and living water never runs out. THANK YOU.

Jesus, we’d love moments of kind merriment, spontaneous guffaws, and sweet, deep connecting. We’d love unexpected surprises, angels to join us, and our “prodigals” to find the aroma of grace alluring and irresistible.  It’s your party, Jesus, so have at it. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, it always come back to you, and well it should. All of life is to be lived out of reverence for you—that is, with astonishment, amazement, and adoration. Astonishment that One so glorious as you would pour grace upon grace upon us. Amazement that you who know us the best love us the most. Adoration fueled by a greater experience of your truth, goodness and beauty.

We want to cherish you, Jesus, not live afraid or in doubt of you. Your perfect love drives out all fear, and your Spirit pours in great love. Fear has to do with judgment and punishment—and, hallelujah, you exhausted both for us on the cross. Keep turning our dread into delight, and our unbelief into uninhibited love for you and others.

We want to honor you, Jesus, and not take you for granted. This is often a great struggle, for we are presumptuous and we live in a culture of entitlement. Forgive us when the theology of the Gospel rolls off our lips with staccato-like precision, yet without childlike wonder. Forgive us for misrepresenting you—in our Gospel-lite thoughts, by our graceless words, and through our selfish choices.

We want to worship you, Jesus, and not fall into heartless familiarity or the chilling of our affection for you. You died to make us your Bride, you live to make us like yourself, you are coming back to treasure and enjoy us forever. Don’t let us ever get used to our rich standing in grace and secure place in your heart. Keep us humble, grateful, and kind towards others. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, it’s one week from Thanksgiving Day, and to prime our “gratitude pump” we want to pause and thank you for the tapestry of friends you’ve woven into our stories and hearts. Of all the good gifts you give us, the best come wrapped in human flesh, beginning with the gift of your beloved Son, Jesus. Thank you, for sending Jesus to us and for us.

The Apostle Paul listed many friends for whom he was grateful—documenting their great kindness in your perfect Word. Help us remember our grace-friends as well, and express our appreciation to them. Their compassion-antenna and Spirit-sensitivity serve us in timely and uncanny ways. Their gift of encouragement is life-giving, heart-refreshing, and perspective-restoring.

Their honesty about their own struggles and weaknesses makes it easier for us to own ours. When we see them coming or see their name on caller-ID, we take the call, open the door, and open our hearts. Bless them, Father—multiply their tribe and make us more like them.

Their eye contact, listening, and kindness “preach” the Gospel to us more clearly than most pulpiteers. They always seem to know when to pursue us, and when to push in without being pushy. They’re good at saying a lot without using words, and staying present when we’re not necessarily in our “best form.” Father, thank you blessing us with such friends. So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, you never asked a question to inform yourself, but always to transform us. Thank you. So who do I believe you are? I’ll answer in two ways—with my theology, and with my experience—for both matter. Through the Scriptures, I know you to be fully God—equal to the Father and Holy Spirit in eternal glory. You are creator, sustainer and restorer of all things—the reason “stars sing and angels shout” (Job 38:7), demons tremble (James 2:19) and we rejoice (Lk.10:20).

You came into the world as the second Adam—God in the form of a baby, the baby who willingly died in our place as a 33-year-old man—the promised Messiah, our perfect substitute. You are the “Yes” to every promise Abba made (2Cor.1:3)—the focus, meaning, and hero of the entire Bible (Luke 24:27)—our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1Cor.1:30).

You always live to intercede for us (Heb.7:25), and you will never stop delighting in us (Isa.62:50). You know us the best, and you love us the most… and there’s so much more about you, Lord. But here’s the experience question—and you know the answer to this one too, Jesus. And because of your grace, we don’t have to “fudge” or pretend. What we think about you is critical, indeed. However, you also ask us, “Do you think about me? Do you love me?”

That is, do we behold your beauty, Jesus? Do we meditate on your glory, adore you for who are, abide in your love? These questions aren’t meant to generate shame, but fuel our freedom. Jesus close the gap between an informed mind and an inflamed heart in us. So Very VERY Amen.

Dear Jesus, comparing my challenges to the Apostle Paul’s is like comparing me holding a ukulele to The Beatles, Flip Flops to Birkenstocks, canned sardines to filet mignon. There is no comparison. But Paul’s freedom to speak of treasure and anguish in the same sentence is very convicting and encouraging to me.

Jesus, you are the treasure—not treasure giver. In my most Gospel-sane moments, I easily affirm that you are all I need and want, and more than I can imagine and hope. Free me to be 100 times more enthralled with your goodness and beauty than whiny and blame-full about my stress and disappointments.

Though there are moments/seasons when throwing in the towel, choosing a different story, or running to a distant land seem incredibly attractive, where else would I (we) go but to you? Only you give the words of life, the riches of grace, and the hope of glory.

You didn’t come into our world to be our fix and fixer, but our Savior and life. If being weak best reveals your awesomeness, keep me weak. If the aroma of grace is most fully released through “cracks” in my jar-of-clay-ness, don’t patch up my cracks. Reveal more of yourself to me and through me, Jesus. There is no greater privilege, joy, and honor. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, it’s just November 18^th but the trend continues. First it was a couple of mailboxes in our neighborhood, then a front door or three, and now a few houses are already in full bore “Christmas-Vacation”-decoration-mode. And we haven’t had Thanksgiving lunch yet. I understand why, so I’m not reaching for my Advent Policeman cap-and-pad to write citations.

Before long, we’ll be singing “The hopes and fears of all the years are met in Thee tonight.” But that was true long before it became a song about your birth. Jesus, because of you, we can risk hoping, and because of you we’re not afraid to own our fears. Accordingly, 37 days from Christmas we want to affirm these three things: First of all, our hope is in you—not in cabinet appointments or lower taxes—not in the “old ways” or new romance, more money or less hassles.

Second, we do have fears. Jesus, we fear “the crazy” and “meanness” that permeate our culture. We fear people who sneeze. We fear our fickleness and unbelief. We fear what the future will be like for our grandchildren. We fear lab reports, aging, rejection, and more trauma. You know all this, so we don’t have to pretend. Thank you.

Third, we affirm our hopes and fears find full and final resolution in you, Jesus. You are the “Yes” to every promise God made (2Cor.1:20), and your perfect love drives out our fears (1Jn.4:18) But you aren’t merely our “happy ending,” right now you are our life (Phil.1:21)—that is, our “righteousness, holiness, redemption” (1Cor.1:30); our “portion,” joy, and inheritance. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, what a destiny we have as your children, what a Father you are as our Abba, what riches you have given us in the Gospel. Because of Jesus’ finished work, our forever will be sin-void, evil-absent, and beauty-filled. The day of Jesus’ return and everything that day will bring with it is awesome it has its own name—“the Day.”

Eternity will be relationally perfect and environmentally flawless—trees and mountains will clap and skip (Isa.55:12, Ps.114:4). We ourselves will frolic like new born calves (Mal.4:2) and wolves and lambs will nap together (Isa.11:9). Stress, rush, mean, and fear will be forever gone. We’ll soon realize that whatever we thought “heaven” would be—our bar was too low, our hopes were too lame, our imagination was too tiny.

SO, Father, until that perfectly timed Day, you have called and commissioned us to live as non-stop encouragers, mercy-friends, and grace-fountains to each other. Why would we choose otherwise? Life is so short. You are so good. Our forever is so perfect. Our now is so in your hands.

For the remaining 6 weeks and 2 days of 2024, free us to speak words of life and kindness to each other. May we catch each other “doing it right,” and honor one another above ourselves. Help us overlook stuff that irritates in the moment but will be forgotten forever.

Father, thank you for Jesus, and everything else. Whether we die before Jesus returns—or even before this Christmas, we are presently and forever yours. Nothing can separate us from your love, or derail your plans for anything. In Jesus’ name and for your glory we offer our, So Very Amen.

“You have abandoned your first love” (Rev.2:4). “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind. This is the first and great commandment” (Matt.22:37-38). “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness…” (Matt.6:33).

Lord Jesus, these seven uses of “first” tell quite a story—beginning with a striking contrast between a man named Diotrephes who “loved to be first,” and a group of poor-yet-generous Macedonian believers who first gave themselves to you, and then to the things you care about. Jesus, in what ways and in what relationships do we seek “firstness” above servanthood? And how can we be set free from our “me-first-ness”?

Thankfully, that takes us to the next two “firsts” in our Scripture tapestry on this November Saturday. Hallelujah, the Gospel is of “first importance” because it meets our first and deepest need for salvation and change. We love you Jesus because you first loved us—by your life, death, and resurrection.

There was a time loving you, abiding in your love, and sharing your love meant more to us than anything else in our lives. Restore us to our first love, Jesus, and our first-loving. As we head into both Thanksgiving and Christmas, please re-order our affections and our “firsts.” Free us again for loving you with everything we have and are, Jesus—with all our heart, soul, and mind—with our time, talents, and treasure.

And in all of our “seeking,” Jesus, may we seek your Kingdom first: That is, free us to treasure your will above our dreams and druthers—for ourselves, our kids, or anyone. Free us to live for your glory and honor, above us being adored, vindicated, or even noticed. Grant it Jesus. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, as with all the Scriptures, these passages immediately make us think of you. And every time we orient our hearts towards you, you greet us, grace us, and grant us the perspective we need. Thank you. Here’s what we crave.

As we begin this weekend, gentle us and give us the rest you promise, Jesus. At a time when many are fear-full, thinned-skinned, and easily triggered, grant us the calming power of a non-anxious, fresh-hope Spirit. If we could hear you praying for us (John 17), see you joyfully ruling from heaven’s throne (Rev.4), and know for certain how you are working in all things for our good (Rom.8:28) … we would sleep better and longer, and love more boldly and tenderly.

Jesus, as you spoke this world into existence, so speak quietness, peace, and caring deep into our hearts. Liberate us for your glory and our tongues for your praise. We know we’re not as free as you intend, joyful as you pray, or trusting as you deserve. So, by the power of your Spirit and the riches of your grace, do a fresh work in our hearts. May “your gentleness make us great” (Ps.18:35)—not great as in impressive to people, but great as in impactful for your glory. So Very Amen

Lord Jesus, thank you for speaking to us so directly and personally through the Scriptures. I’m especially grateful for this “word” from Peter about suffering. Many of my friends are experiencing challenges and “crosses”—bodily ailments, family stress, and heavy hearts.

Among the many things this verse makes clear, none is more precious than knowing you are sovereign, and suffering isn’t. Our calling to “eternal glory in Christ” does pass along the path of temporary pain in our stories. Just as you told us—in this world we will have trouble, but in you we will have peace—peace before the storm passes, comfort before the heartache is over, hope right in the middle of the darkest clouds (Jn.16:33). In the matrix of mercy, all suffering is just for a “little while,” but you are now and forever “the God of all grace.” Hallelujah, and thank you.

The Day of no more “death, mourning, crying, or pain” is barreling towards us at the speed of your mercy and kindness (Rev.21:4). Until then, Jesus, free us to ache to your glory, carry each other’s burdens, and encourage one another daily—as in every single day (Heb.3:13). Shared weaknesses release the aroma of grace like the perfume with which Mary anointed your feet (John 12:3-8).

We rest in your promise to “restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish” us. May your daily mercies and sufficient grace define us 7 times more than out fleeting misery. That you see us … know us … care for us … and are in control of our suffering … is sweetness beyond measure and peace beyond all understanding. Thank you, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, it seems too good to be true, too lofty to be ours, too far above our “pay grade”—too beyond our deserving, getting, and keeping. And to a certain extent, all that is true … if it weren’t for you.

Because of you, Jesus, and what you have done for us, we are no longer subject to no-grace, disgrace, faux-grace, semi-grace, insufficient-grace, or disappearing-grace. There’s just grace for us—which is shorthand for, there’s “just” you, Jesus. Because grace isn’t primarily a “something” but a “Someone.” Hallelujah, on Gospel-steroids!

You are the incarnation of “the God of all grace” (1Pet.5:10)—the meaning, full measure, and means by which we are given all the riches of heaven. When you were born, as Paul stated, “the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people” (Titus 2:11). Not abstract grace, but the God of all grace lay in a manger and died on a cross.

Indeed, Jesus, you are the Gospel. “You know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ—though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich” (2Cor.8:9). Hallelujah, you exhausted our unpayable debt to God, and gave us the incalculable riches of your righteousness.

Grace is sufficient because you are sufficient, Jesus. So much so you get the very last verse in the entire Bible. “The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God’s people. Amen” (Rev. 22:21). To which we offer our, So VERY Amen.

Heavenly Father, we don’t understand all your reasons for choosing to seat certain kings (leaders/rulers) and unseat others (Dan. 2:21)—including the most recent presidential election in America. The “secret things” and the hand of providence belong to you (Deut. 29:29).

But we do know you have already installed Jesus as the true and eternal King—and that one Day every knee will bow to him and every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord. That Day will bring great glory to you, and eternal joy to us (Phil.2:10-11). Thank you, and Hallelujah!

We also know that peace and laughter, not angst and vexation, fill the courts of heaven as we begin our work week today (Psalm 2:4-6). That is profoundly peace-giving to us as well. So here’s our main ask on Monday, November 11, 2024.

Father, intensify our “fear of the Lord”—that is, take our affectionate reverence for you to a whole new level in these coming weeks and months. The Gospel has freed us from being afraid of you, because you generously presented Jesus our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1Cor.1:30). But grant us a passionate, adoring, unrivaled love for yourself. To fear you isn’t just the beginning of wisdom, Father, it’s the meaning, middle, and goal of wisdom as well.

We’ll never over-love you, Father. We can never have too much awe, respect, adoration, and trust in you. So today, we choose afresh the fountain of life that comes from fearing you, over the dangerous trap of putting too much confidence in men, leaders, and rulers. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, ever since America voted a new president into office last Tuesday, I’ve noticed two opposite responses among dear friends, and in my larger community. On one hand, there are those whose relief and rejoicing are so great, you would think Jesus is about to come back at the next inauguration. Then there are those whose sadness and despair are so overwhelming, they are desperate for Jesus to come back before the inauguration can happen.

Both responses are understandable—as well as every response between those extremes. Yet every response to a “mere” presidential election needs tempering by what you tell us in your Word. There are real issues in our country and world that should greatly concern us. But there are ultimate realities in eternity and heaven that should radically define us.

When “mere mortals” seem bigger to us than you are, God, it impacts everything: How we see ourselves (either like fearful “grasshoppers,” or as members of the Super Bowl winning team). It impacts how we view each other—either as a friend or foe, ally or enemy. Instead we should view everyone as a bearer of your image, someone for whom Jesus died, and a neighbor we’re called to love. Forgive, free, and focus us, Abba.

No president, government, adoring spouse, sweet kids, totally supportive parents, awesome friends—no human beings can save us. And no collection of really bad representatives of all those relational categories can keep your will from being done “on earth as in heaven.” People are pitiful Abba-substitutes and salvation-less saviors. You are God and we are not—big time! Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, by the power of the Holy Spirit, make this tapestry of Scriptures dear, daily, and determinative for us. In a season of mean-speak and verbal drive-by-shootings, you call us to be different—radically different and grace-fully distinctive.

Since our words flow from us as a heart-river, fill us afresh with your truth, goodness, and beauty, Jesus. Life, as you designed it, has never been about tongue control but heart treasure. The more you matter to us, Jesus, the more our impact on others will matter to us.

We would love to offer 100 healing words for every thoughtless, uncaring, and hurtful syllable we utter. Even our body language—Jesus, may it be a taste of your welcome, an invitation to your kindness, and an extension of your mercy and grace.

In these post-election, pre-Thanksgiving days, help us listen, respond, and speak as those who belong to you, Jesus. You only speak life, love, and liberty to us—even when you correct and discipline us. Thank you, Lord. Do the same through us. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, there are many reasons I’m looking forward to your return. At the top of my list is finally seeing you as you are, being made like you, and being freed from every wrong, incomplete notion I’ve ever had about you and everything else. For knowing you “in part” means we only understand anything partially, which always impacts our relationships.

Any two believers who love you deeply—but incompletely, are capable of seeing important things in life quite differently. And this can lead to painful interchanges, stressed—even broken relationships. I’ve experienced this through the years—but just a few days after America’s presidential election, it is showing up with intensity, threat, and harm. Have mercy on us, Lord. Have mercy on me.

Jesus, we long for the Day when we will no longer know in part or love in part—the Day when we will never again label, dismiss, or marginalize one another. Heaven will be perfect unity, but not cookie-cutter uniformity. If two people agree about everything, one of them isn’t necessary. Our enemy isn’t diversity, but our inability and unwillingness to love well.

In eternity, we won’t all be 33 years old, with the same skin color, cultural markers, taste buds, musical preferences, gifts, passions, callings, and stories. But, hallelujah, it will be impossible for us to ever be selfish or sin again. We will finally love perfectly as you perfectly love us, Jesus. Hasten that Day, and help us love towards that Day, Lord. So Very Amen.

“The Kingdom of Heaven is like the yeast a woman used in making bread. Even though she put only a little yeast in three measures of flour, it permeated every part of the dough.” (Matt.13:33). We look “forward to the City whose builder and maker is God” (Heb.11:10)

Lord Jesus, I pray and write today, first and foremost, as someone who belongs to you. Secondly, as someone who happens to have an American citizenship and passport. But the things you have put on my heart today would be just as true if I was a citizen of Russia or Israel, Ukraine or China, or Ireland or Scotland.

I humble myself before you in acknowledging you have never had two favorite nations—Israel and America. You have always been an every-nation Savior and Lord. One glorious Day we will join your pan-national Bride as we joyously stream into the New Jerusalem together (Rev.7:9-17), and begin perfect, eternal, joyful life in the new heaven and new earth (Rev.21:1-22:6). Hallelujah, and thank you!

Whatever our national identity, and no matter how many passports we own,  first and foremost, we belong to you, Jesus. You have called us to live and love in very distinctive ways, wherever you have placed us. Help us Jesus, free us, focus us.

We are to live as… Salt and light—not habanero sauce and flame throwers; not as artificial sweeteners and window dressing; not as an angry political party, but as a robust Gospel-party. Jesus, bring your redemptive presence, kingdom kindness, and heavenly humility through us. To know, love, and follow you Jesus is to live as foot washers, not scepter grabbers; as beauty revealers, not revenge takers; as grace yeast, not pride fertilizer. Grant it, Jesus, for your glory. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, we praise you for being our reigning King, loving Savior, and soon returning Bridegroom. Because nothing is impossible with you, we can trust you with our deepest aches, heaviest burdens, and most intense longings. This prayer was percolating in my heart before I had any clue who might be the next American president.

The outcome of the election now appears 99% certain, and my earnest petition remains 150% the same for all of us who claim to know and love you—irrespective of how we voted, and whether we are happy or despairing this morning.

Though you can do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, Jesus I will gladly settle for a few things I can imagine and passionately crave.

Jesus, you have promised “to shorten the days of evil” in the world for us—your people. (Mk.13:20). But would you please shorten the days of meanness, unkindness, and harshness in us? The world will know you are true, good, and beautiful by the way we love each other (Jn.13:34-35)—including those who voted differently than us, and those who have no clue who you are.

Jesus, would you gift us and our country again with a Great Awakening, a Grace Awakening—a genuine Holy Spirit revival? Humble us, Lord. Bring us low, don’t make us great, for grace runs downhill. We have confused our nation with your Kingdom. For the ways we have been thinking of you more like a local tribal deity than the Lord of the nations, King of heaven and earth—forgive us, free, and refocus us.

Jesus, would you please restore us to our first love passion for you? Would you reignite our calling to carry the Gospel to the nations? Would you out-grow our ingrown churches? Would you make us good neighbors, mercy givers, and grace fountains? I can imagine all of this Jesus—for your glory. So Very Amen.

I looked, saw, marveled, worshiped, and rested when I saw the “throne in heaven with someone sitting on it.” Revelation 4:2

Dear Heavenly Father, as those you have given to Jesus, sealed with your Spirit, and adopted as your children, we come before you today with groaning and gratitude. I’ve never been as grateful for the gift of Spirit groans. They remind me on this “presidential election day” that something very holy, painful, and good is going on inside of me, in each of your children, and throughout creation. We are pregnant with glory—your glory. Jesus is being formed inside us (Gal.4:19), we will go “full term” (Phil.1:6), and creation will be made new. Hallelujah, and thank you.

What does this have to do with a presidential election in America? Nothing and Everything. Nothing, in the sense that our inward groans began the very moment you hid our lives in Jesus, and put your Spirit inside us. Everything, in the sense that fear-fueling circumstances and crazy-making seasons in history reveal where we have parked our hope and put our trust.

No presidential candidate, political party—round, oval, hexagon, or square governmental office—with “my” guy/gal sitting behind the biggest desk, will ever be enough. Only heaven’s occupied throne, with Jesus as our reigning King, your loving heart and sovereign grace can “foot the bill” and fill our hearts. Everything else is an illusion and fantasy.

And only Jesus’ glorious return will finally and fully resolve these good groans and our eager waiting. Until that Day, Father, help us “honor everyone, love the family of believers, fear God, honor the king” (1Pet.2:17). So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, the more of you we see in the Scriptures, the more we’re compelled to worship, love, and trust you. Today, this passage leads us to marvel at your joyful kingship—your sovereignty over everything in every place all the time. Jesus, this is both mind boggling and heart comforting. You rule over valleys, vocations, volcanoes, votes, vacations … and all stuff starting with every other letter in the alphabet.

Forgive us for thinking less of you. Forgive us for living as though your kingship is honorific, theoretical, or only a future reality. Your address isn’t Buckingham Palace, but heaven’s throne.

The government of the entire cosmos already rests on your shoulders (Isa.9:6-7). And though we’d love to see your kingdom grow at the pace of a bamboo shoot, not a mustard seed, (Matt.13:31-32), nothing is more certain, present, and irresistible than your reign. “Unchangeable, unshakable, unstoppable … that’s what You are,” Jesus.

So tame our fears and shrink our pride. Topple our anxieties and supersize our trust—not just as America votes for a new president tomorrow, but also as doctors read our scans, as we pray for people we love, as we enter transitions we didn’t choose and stories we’d never write. “Even when we don’t see it, You’re working. Even when we don’t feel it, You’re working. You never stop, You never stop working,” Jesus.  Hallelujah, thank you, and So Very Amen

Dear Lord Jesus, thank you. Many of us know what it means to be silenced without being quieted. Many of us know what it means to lose both voice and heart. Many of us have no words as we begin this new week. But we have plenty of noise inside us, loud restlessness, and high-decibel disquiet. So come and quiet our hearts with your love. Calm our chaos with your steadfast affection and fear-expelling kindness.

Help us get still … and know afresh that you are God. Not just any “god”—but ruler of things above heaven, in heaven, on the earth, and under the earth. For some of us, we need to know this reality as America elects a new president this week. Jesus, as Prince of Peace, please center and settle us.

Our anger shows how little we trust you. Our “us-versus-them-ness” shows how little we know you. Like Joshua, forgive us for asking, “Are you for us, or for our adversaries?” (Joshua 5:13)—as though you are picking sides, or are a star athlete we want on our “team,” or worse, as though we think of ourselves as the good guys, more deserving than others. Your answer is the same, “Neither” (Jos.5:14). As captain of the Lord’s army, you are Lord and lover of all God’s children—no matter how or if they vote.

For others of us—the presidential election is way down the list—maybe 5^th on a list of 7 concerns. Some of us need to be quieted by your love because we have a child with a tumor, or a marriage with “cancer,” or a slow memory that is making us wonder if we have dementia … and the list goes on. Jesus, may your love bring heaven-designed quiet each of us needs this week. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, this Scripture is timely, centering, and hope-giving. It reminds us of the only unshakable, eternal, and glorious kingdom—the Kingdom of God, and of our most compelling, privileged, and everlasting citizenship—the one we received in the Gospel (Phil.3:20).

But above all, it further endears you to us, Jesus—as our loving Savior, reigning King, and returning Bridegroom. We didn’t vote you in; you wrote us into your heart and story. The Kingdom is yours and you are free to give it to whomever you wish. In particular, we are grateful today for your passionate, compassionate, generous heart for children.

Our hearts break for children orphaned by war and other tragedies. Children who have experienced traumas and darkness beyond our imagining. Children in cancer wards and stuck in foster care systems. Children who are trafficked when they should be treasured. Our own children and grandkids—who may have trust funds but don’t trust you yet.

Jesus, here’s what we cling to and count on. By your life, death, and resurrection, you have put an expiration date on all evil, hate, and brokenness. Words like “orphan,” “child pornography,” “unwanted child,” “abused children” will be erased from the human vocabulary. Hasten that Day, Lord. You have also inaugurated your Kingdom of “all things new” and “everything beautiful.” Hallelujah, your Kingdom is here and it is growing.

Give us a heart to understand that as we live for the things you died for we are participating in the firstfruits of your Kingdom. Every child adopted, or rescued from trafficking, or released from poverty is evidence your tomb is empty, your throne is occupied, and your Kingdom is coming. Hallelujah and

So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, you give us a peace, joy, and hope that can’t be found anywhere else. You love us perfectly. You are sovereign over every acre of the planet, tick of the clock, king of the earth, and chapter in our story. When you return, you will finish what you’re already doing—making all things new.  Hallelujah, and thank you.

Because of you, Jesus, we don’t have to live in fear, regret, or anger. To be alive is to lament stories that grieve us, shed tears for people who sadden us, and feel vulnerable about things that threaten us. But to be yours is to realize only you and your coming Kingdom are ultimate. Your sovereign grace, not accidental karma, gets the first, middle, and last word. Make this good news daily news to us, Lord.

For by nature we are hope-setters—looking to someone or something to make things better and put things right. By our new-nature, however, we know “horses and chariots” (Ps.20:7), cash reserves and government leaders, graceless religion and our best efforts cannot save us. That rests on you, Jesus. Either you are the Savior of the world, or we are helpless, hapless, and hopeless.

So on the 1^st day of November, 2024, we are thrilled to affirm your tomb has never been more empty. Your throne has never been more occupied. Your return has never been more certain. By past grace you have completely saved us. By present grace you are changing us and ruling the cosmos. By future grace you will usher in the new heaven and new earth, and totally make us like yourself. Hallelujah! Jesus, turn our whimpers and whines into wonder and worship. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, in the annals of history, today is called “Reformation Day”—a day for remembering that, from beginning to end, our salvation is by grace alone through faith alone. When Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the door of Wittenberg Castle, Oct. 31, 1517, you opened a door to a great outpouring of the Holy Spirit. It was a back-to-the-Gospel movement—a renewal that preceded Luther and continues till your return. For we all suffer from Gospel-amnesia, grace-allergies, truth-dementia, and faith-forgetfulness.

So on this Thursday Oct 31, 2024, we praise, bless, and thank you, Jesus—even as we preach the Gospel to our hearts afresh. It’s the good news that we are more needy than we realize and to admit; but also more beloved than we can hope or imagine.

Our problem wasn’t with “sowing wild oats.” Our problem was we were clueless about you, Jesus—we didn’t know, love, and worship you. We needed a new heart, not a fresh start—to become a whole new tree, not merely “turn over a new leaf.” We needed a perfect righteousness only you can give us—not a wanna-be-righteousness eked out from our promise to “do more and try harder.”

Jesus, thank you for clothing us in your righteousness—which is also our wedding garment. Thank you for exhausting our guilt, taking our shame, and breaking our chains. Today we reaffirm that our hope is built on nothing less, other, or more than you and what you accomplished for us. You saved us to the uttermost, Jesus, and we are utterly grateful, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, I’ve asked you for many things in life, and will continue to do so. For you are a most generous Savior, joyful King, and loving Bridegroom. You know our needs before we ask. You give us gifts beyond our imagining and measuring. And you are the original “cheerful giver”—finding delight in the act of giving, and joy in the recipients of your generosity.

As I get older, however, one “ask” of mine gets bigger and bigger, and I make with increasing regularity. Jesus, I want to see more of your beauty. I want what King David craved in Psalm 27:4. Ever since you first revealed yourself to me, I’ve known you to be singularly true, and without-parallel good. But now—perhaps because of all the “ugly” in the world, I intensely crave a greater revelation and experience of your beauty, Jesus.

You give me air to breathe on a daily basis. But take my breath away with a clearer vision of your matchless splendor, healing radiance, and stunning splendor. Jesus, you are the source and meaning of all beauty.  

So, heal my inner-eyes, Jesus—my astigmatism, cataracts, and myopia. Burn from my memory all the wrong, unworthy, distorted images I carry of you in my heart. I long for the Day when we will see you as you actually are, Jesus. My guess is we have only seen about .07% of your truth, goodness, and especially your beauty.  Brace us and grace us with more of your beauty, Jesus. So Very Amen.

(Friends, use my prayer and story, to help you pray for your friends, kids, colleagues, mentors—and maybe yourself, who are in a faith crisis.)

Dear Jesus, I know I’m not alone in having a friend(s) doubt their faith. And as this passage makes clear, ours isn’t the first generation to have believers drift, fall, or jump into unbelief. So rather than musing about trends in Christianity, you call us to abide in your love, and extend it to our friends and family members who are somewhere in the continuum of chilled, indifferent, and rejected faith.

In my case, my friend feels abandoned by you, forgotten, and punished. He’s helped others rest in your grace, but suffering, reversals, and meanness from those who claim to know you have taken their toll. He’s somewhere between a weary John the Baptist, asking “Is Jesus really the one, or should we wait for another?” (Matt.11:2-3), and Job’s wife spewing, “Why still cling to your integrity (and your faith and trust in God)? Curse God and die!” (Job 2:9). It’s hard to watch, but it would be hardhearted to ignore.

I ache for him, Jesus. I groan for my friend and grapple for his heart. He doesn’t need answers, podcasts, and books; he needs pursuit, mercy, and kindness. Please keep him from medicating in destructive ways. Pain makes us vulnerable, and isolation intensifies our demand for relief. He’s pulling away from those he’s walked with for years. As you prayed for the protection of your disciples, I’m counting on your prayers for my friend (John 17:15). My confidence isn’t in a “doctrine of eternal security,” but in you, Jesus—the author, writer, and completer of our faith. So Very Amen.

King David: “Our God is in the heavens; he does all that he pleases.” Ps. 115:3

Isaiah: “Only I am God! … Only I can tell you the future before it even happens. Everything I plan will happen.” Isa. 46:9-10

Job: Abba, “no purpose of yours can be thwarted” Job 42:2

Heavenly Father, I love quartets—I’m talking the Beatles, the Hobbits, the 4 Presidents on Mt. Rushmore, the 4 Pevensie children in “The Lion, Witch, and Wardrobe”—and I’ll add Led Zeppelin, since Jimmy Page was on my flight to London recently. But these verses from your Word give us a foursome that can rival them all, and they all sing the same song—you are God and we are not. You are Sovereign, not a mere Suggester.

You were sovereign over the pagan king, Nebuchadnezzar—and his madness and narcissism, humbling him to affirm your greatness and glory (Daniel 4:28-37). You were sovereign over King David’s challenged rule, crazy family, and personal failures. You were sovereign over Isaiah’s difficult ministry and the gigantic promises you put in his heart and mouth. You were sovereign over Job’s loses, betrayals, and arrogant friends.

Indeed, no decree, plan, or purpose of yours can be/will be derailed, denied, or delayed. Father. not one, anytime, anywhere. This doesn’t make us puppets, pawns, or robots—but your beloved children. This doesn’t make you an unfeeling, impersonal, source of energy—but the only God worth knowing, loving, worshiping, and trusting.

Abba, you gave Jesus to us and for us—and you gave us to Jesus (Jn.6:39). Certainly we can trust you as we enter this day, pray for our children, own our health challenges, the next US presidential election, and everything else. So VERY Amen.

Dear Father, how everlasting and unfailing is your love for us? It has no beginning or end, cannot be measured or even imagined. You loved us before the world began—before we showed any promise or broke our first promise. You never looked at what we might do for you, but only to what you would do for us. You sent Jesus to accomplish our entire salvation. Jesus didn’t come to be our co-pilot or model for self-salvation; Jesus came to be our righteousness, holiness, and redemption—our life and everything. Thank you, Father.

Before Jesus died for us, he lived for us. He fulfilled the law for us, and you now count us righteous in him (Col.3:1-3). We don’t have to fear death, for we’ve already passed from death to life (John 5:24). Neither do we need to fear life, for you made sure there is no condemnation left for our sin (Rom.8:1).

Your love is as unwavering as it is everlasting. We can’t add to it or take away from it. You will cease to be God before your affection wanes or fails—is exhausted or withdrawn. Even when you disciplines us—bringing the pain of correction, you do so with a heart of compassion. You will humble us but never humiliate us. You will “shape” us into Christlikeness, but never shame us into self-hatred. Thank you, Father… you drew us to yourself, bound us with cords of kindness, hid our lives in Jesus, adopted us as your kids, sealed us with your Spirit, and will complete your work in us (Phil.1:6). We worship and adore you… So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus—how much would having “a tranquil heart” cost us? That’s a really good question, because every day we show what we’re willing to pay for one by our drivenness, fears, busyness, stressed relationships, and inability to rest.

We foolishly think a day is a coming when we’ll kick back and say to ourselves: “My friend, you have enough stored away for years to come. Now take it easy! Eat, drink, and be merry!”’ (Lk.12:19). The problem is that illusive category of “have enough” is ever changing. “Enough” becomes more, a little more, maybe just a little more.

Jesus, what must you do in our lives for us to really believe: All we need—in life and in death, is you, plus what you chose to give us? How do you become our whole inheritance, not just one among our many treasures? By your kindness and providence, keep showing us how our drivenness and restlessness are leading to shallow hearts, superficial relationships, and soul-depletion.

You put this question “on the table” a long time ago: “What’s the profit margin of gaining the world and losing your soul?” (Mk.8:36). Jesus, we want to say and mean with Paul, “Christ is now my life and death has become my gain” (Phil.1:21). You’re worthy of a lot more than simply being the opening and closing prayer of our days. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, if getting into heaven depended on being excellent at fretless, patient, waiting, I’d have trust 100% on your grace. Thankfully, that’s the only way to have a relationship with you—no matter our failures, weaknesses, lack of righteousness. Indeed, salvation can’t be achieved, only received, for eternal life is a free gift. Thank you, Jesus.

Why do I hate waiting? For one thing, I’m impatient and like to get “in and out.” I’m also selfish, and like to finish stuff quickly and move on to what I really want to do. But I’m also fearful—especially about things over which I don’t have control, in the lives of people I do know and love.

It’s really hard—not knowing what the lab tests are going to say, what the scan is going to reveal, what the MRI is going to confirm. It’s vulnerability fueling—having good probabilities, but no guarantees—having other people’s stories of good outcomes, while the ink of our own stories is still wet. What will the procedure produce? What will rehab regain?

Jesus, though I am impatient, selfish, and fearful—more than anything else, I am yours. You are the LORD of tendons and tissue, tears and traumas, bones and brokenness, every stage of the “c”-word and ruptured relationships. Disks and spines, dark spots and deep longings are your domain. In fact, there’s nothing over which you aren’t sovereign. That doesn’t make life easy, but it does keep us sane.

We know in eternity we will loudly, joyfully proclaim, “Our God has done all things well!” But in this vulnerable moment, we look to you for grace and peace… but above all, we look to you and for you, Jesus. We trust and hope in you, not in statistical possibilities, or pleasant outcomes. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, before long Christmas music will begin filling our malls, hearts, and homes. Personally, it’s never too early for me—especially in a presidential election year. I especially love to crank up this portion of Handel’s Messiah: “And He (Jesus) shall reign forever and ever, King of kings! and Lord of lords!

The good news, best news, heart-centering news is your reign has already begun. We long for the fullness of your reign and Kingdom, but not its inception. For Jesus, you are already King of kings and Lord of lords—the ruler of the kings of the earth and everything else.

No premier or president, emperor or autocrat, dictator or potentate is a threat to your kingdom—and none is necessary to your purposes. Demons tremble at your name, Jesus, and stars sing your praise. Fierce hurricanes become gentle zephyrs, and placid lakes become roaring oceans … all in keeping with your purposes, timing and glory.

You, personally, set up kings and you sit them down—not on a whim, but in keeping with your will. That’s your domain, discretion, and delight. On this October Thursday, you are actively making all things new, working in all things for our good, redeeming your Bride from among the nations of the world, and are primed to usher in the new heaven and new earth. Hallelujah, and thank you, Jesus.

In 12 days the USA will elect a new president. We will exercise the privilege of our dual citizenship—being citizens of heaven and citizens of the United States. But our 1^st citizenship takes precedent over the 2^nd by a margin of a gazillion to one. We say that, and we want to mean it more than we ever have before, Jesus. Faith, not fear—hope, not hysteria is the order of the day. We will cast our vote, but more so we’ll cast ourselves on the floor in loving adoration, joyful trust, and deep craving for your return, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Gracious Father, thank you for including this record of “temporary insanity” in your Word. Such is the reach and riches of the Scriptures. There are times when I forget I’m living in a fallen world, with a fragile heart, among people who need your grace just as much as I do.

When my buttons get pushed and my traumas get triggered—when my stress is high and my “tank” is low, I’m capable of acting out in unkind, unthinking, unremarkable ways. I lose perspective and love poorly—like Asaph, the author of Psalm 73, I am apt to feel, think, say things I later regret.

How do you relate to us in the middle of our “moments”? You’re never shocked, but you always care. When we say hurtful words—you convict us, but you’ll never condemn us. When we react poorly, you respond redemptively. When we “lose it”—you find us, recenter us, and gentle us. Your kindness leads us to repentance, and repentance is always a fresh collapsing on Jesus—who is our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1Cor.1:30). The Gospel really is this big and this good.

Such mercy melts my icy heart. Such love corrals my racing thoughts. Such grace humbles my proud, rigid soul. Hallelujah, and thank you. On this October Wednesday, free me (us) to love as Jesus loves us. May we speak 100 encouraging words for every unkind word. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, some of us lament being on the other side of our prime. Our bodies are stiffer, memory is slower, seeing is dimmer, and energy is lessened. Other of us are so obsessed with staying in our prime we invest a lot of time, money, and energy in looking 20 or more years younger than our birth certificate. Who doesn’t love hearing, “You look great. No way you’re that old.”

Taking care of our bodies is, indeed, a form of our stewardship. “Physical training is good,” as Paul wrote his young friend Timothy, “but training for godliness is much better, promising benefits in this life and in the life to come (1Tim.4:8). In this sense, being in our prime has more to do with knowing you. Jesus—enjoying intimate, heart-enflaming, life-shaping friendship with you—than it does with our blood work, wrinkle count, heart rate, muscle size, hairline, and lung capacity.

You are the only friend we have who loves us at all times—in every context, season, heartache, and failure. Thank you for befriending us in the Gospel. It’s overwhelming, settling, and centering to hear you say to us, “I no longer call you servants; I call you friends” (Jn.15:15). We are humbled. We struggle to believe it. We are eternally grateful.

You know each of our stories, Jesus. Some of us have never walked as closely with you as you intend. Some of us have drifted, fallen, or jumped into spiritual indifference, the barrenness of busyness, unbelief via suffering, or a prison of shame. For some of us, money, romance, and stuff have actually become enough—at least for now.

Jesus, whatever you must do in our lives—give us, re-gift us, renew us to the place of saying and meaning, “You are heaven to me, Jesus, and I consider everything as nothing compared to the wonder and excellency of knowing you” (Ps.73:25-26; Phil.3:8). So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, “do everything in love”—that is very counterintuitive, often confusing and hard to do, but SO like you. Help us Lord. May your incomparable, unwavering, inexhaustible love change and free us. We don’t want our traumas and triggers to hold more mastery over us. We want your grace, humility, and Spirit to do that.

We love you, Jesus—and anyone else, because you first loved us, and still love us. Your cross is the measure of your love. Your occupied throne is the power for our love. Your return will bring the fullness of your love. Hallelujah, and thank you.

Re-humble, re-gladden, and re-free us to love well—in our easy-breezy, regular-messy, getting-harder, and impossible relationships. On this October Monday, help us “prove the wonders of your love,” and the sufficiency of your grace. Give us courage to “mount love-offensives”—as Jack Miller called them.

“That is,” (to paraphrase Jack,) “when not being cared for, sinned against, or ignored —instead of getting defensive, go on the offensive. Mount a love offensive. Repay harshness with kindness, criticism with humility, indifference with engagement, and grumpiness with curiosity.” Jesus, thank you for letting me experience Jack doing this for two decades. But thank you for eternally doing so. So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, how profound, convicting, and encouraging … you don’t just pray for our joy, but that we would have the full measure of your joy. It will take your return for us to know the fullness of your joy, we’d love a much bigger measure well before then. In fact, through the Apostle Paul, you’ve already asked us, “Where did your joy go?” (Gal.4:15). Like your peace, we tend to leak, lose, or leave your joy for some form of instant gratification.

We know your joy isn’t the absence of sadness and grief, or a state of unbroken gladness and cheerfulness. The record of your earthly life in the four Gospels makes this clear. You were both “anointed with the oil of joy” (Heb.1:9) and “a man of sorrows and very familiar with our grief” (Isa. 53:3). We’re comforted by both.

Jesus, your joy is most often seen in the Scriptures as a fruit of relationship, not a byproduct of circumstances. We almost blush with awe, as we read of the delight and intimacy you have with Abba, Father (John 17). But you’ve done everything necessary that we will have the joy of Abba loving us as much as he loves you. Hallelujah, thank you, and help our unbelief!

There’s a second relationship that highlights the wonder, intensity. and depth of your joy—your relationship with us. We are a big part of the “joy set before you” that led you to endure the cross (Heb.12:2). Get that deep into our hearts, Jesus. You already delight in us Bridegroom to Bride (Isa.62:4-5), and you are coming back with unfiltered, unrestrained, unimaginable joy—to meet us at the Wedding Feast, and carry us into a forever beyond our capacity to conceive. Make it soon, Jesus. And until then, increase our joy in you. So Very Amen.

“My sheep listen to my voice; I (Jesus) know them, and they follow me.” (Jn.10:27).

“I (Jesus) will send you the Advocate and Helper—the Spirit of truth. He will come to you from the Father and will testify all about me.” (Jn.15:26).

“You have heard it said… But I (Jesus) say to you…” (Matt.5:21).

Lord Jesus, most of my life I’ve assumed the phrase, “I’m hearing voices,” to indicate mental/emotional instability. It certainly can be, but much more so it’s an indication of being 6 feet above ground—that is, still alive and fully human. For we all hear voices. The key to a healthy life is to identify the voices vying for our attention, and give heed to the right ones. Help us, Jesus.

For some of us, 88% of the time we’re just having a self-absorbed monologue with ourselves—and that ends up being pretty destructive. Others continue to be narrated by the voice of parents, coaches, teachers—living or dead, both good and super bad. Some of us tune our hearts to the every-changing voices of trends and styles—what’s “lit,” “dope,” “gas,” or ”fire.”

Loving Jesus, may your voice be the nearest, clearest, dearest to us. We want to learn, marinate in, and be transformed by everything our Father and the Holy Spirit want to show us about you. Fine tune our hearts to hear you speaking directly to us through the Scriptures, creation, your Spirit, and dear Gospel-friends. Jesus, may your voice transcend every carpetbagger, condemner, liar and lie, seducer and destroyer the devil and world throw at us. We don’t have to be afraid. We just need to live as yours. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, if the question is, “What’s the bottom-line, ‘whole enchilada and shebang,’ main thing and consuming passion of the Christian life? The final verse in Ephesians perfectly sums it up. We are to love you with an “undying love”—an unrivaled, constantly-fueled, ever-growing love. That is the only worthy response to who you are, Jesus, and the multiple ways you love us.

As our Savior you love us with a perfect and complete salvation. Having taken our judgment on the cross, you gave us your righteousness through the Gospel.

As our King you love us with uncontested sovereignty, working in all things for our good—ruling over disruptions and elections, evil and the environment, our greatest joys and deepest traumas.

As our Good Shepherd you love us with providential care and kindness—even in the valley of the shadow of death. You are with us and for us—all the time in every place all the way Home.

As our High Priest you love us in our brokenness, sin, and weaknesses—as no one else can or will. You bear our burdens, and you forbear with us. Thank you!

As our Bridegroom you love us with passion and delight beyond our imagining—not like a “metaphorical spouse,” but as the Spouse we always wanted (Eph.3:18-19).

Jesus, your love for us is the main constant in our lives, only equaled by our constant need for it. Please re-stoke the fires of our love for you. Restore the love we first had for you when you gave us the new birth, a new heart, and new life. Then super-size, intensify, and channel it for your glory So Very Amen.

12 years later Paul said about Mark: “Mark, Barnabas’s cousin, (also sends greetings) … make Mark welcome if he comes your way.” Col.4:12

5 more years later Paul said: about Mark “Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry.” 2 Tim.4:11

Gracious Jesus, as this Scripture demonstrates, there are times when your faithful servants don’t see eye to eye on very important matters. Our best efforts at keeping “the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace” get stressed, tested, and broken (Eph. 4:3).

Differing perspectives lead to sharp disagreements, sharp disagreements can lead to painful words, and painful words often lead to the parting of ways. This happens between the closest of friends, in good church families, healthy marriages, and in most relational contexts we participate as believers.

Whether it’s who we trust with responsibilities, how we handle failures, how we interpret disheartening events, who we hire and who we fire, or for whom we vote in a presidential election—until you return, Jesus, we do and will see things differently. Help us. Grace us. Humble us. Strengthen us. Lead us.

The question in this story isn’t, “Who was more right about Mark—Paul or Barnabas?” The always-question must be, “What does faith expressing itself in love look like” (Gal.5:6) in messy situations, disheartening stories, and bruised relationships?

Sharp disagreements don’t have to lead to building permanent walls of separation. They can lead to building bridges of beautiful redemption. With time plus grace—Paul, Barnabas, and Mark didn’t merely “kiss and make up.” Far better, they grew in grace, waited on you, and brought you glory. That’s what we want too, Jesus. You know us and our stories. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, thank you for your Word, and thank you for these two verses in James. I’m especially grateful for the image of a “fleeing devil.” I know we can ill afford to be naïve about the schemes of the enemy (2Cor.2:11), and his prowling, devouring plans (1 Pet. 5:8). But by Jesus’ cross and resurrection, devil has been defeated, his works have an expiration date (1Jn.3:8), and he knows his time is short (Rev.12:12). Abba, thank you for this assurance.

So today—in full view of Jesus’ finished work, I join my brothers and sisters in the freedom of humility and grateful submission to you, Father. We give you praise for everything you have done for us in Jesus. Truly, we “collapse on Jesus,” for he is our everything. We have no other boast, confidence, or hope.

Indeed, Lord Jesus, we confess you to be our Prophet, Priest, and King—our “righteousness, holiness and redemption” (1 Cor. 1:30)—our sufficiency, Advocate, and defender. To “put on you” (Rom.13:14) is to wear the whole armor of God (Eph.6:10-18). You aren’t rooting for us from afar, we are rooted in your love (Eph.3:17) and hidden in your life (Col3:3).

Jesus, we will resist the devil’s deceitful and damning ways by looking unto you—availing ourselves of your mercy and your might—your past triumph and current reign—your perfect sacrifice and perpetual intercession. With the eye of faith, we set our gaze on you, Jesus,—the author and perfecter of our faith (Heb. 12:2). Hallelujah, thank you, and So Very Amen.

“I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.” Phil.4:12

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” Rom.15:13

Heavenly Father, I am convinced gratitude, contentment, and hope are the best traveling companions we can have as we journey from this day to the Day of all things new. In our most “Gospel-Sane” moments, we know the things for which we should be grateful outnumber our whine-worthy, heart-vexing items a gazillion to one.

Such as 1. Complete forgiveness, 2. The gift of Jesus’ righteousness, 3. Adoption as your beloved children, 4. Citizenship in heaven, and 5. Jesus, himself—as our reigning King and returning Bridegroom. If we stay alive to these 5 surely we can trust you in the whirlwind, mysteries, and heartaches of life in our journey Home.

Abba, thank you that you don’t shame us into an attitude of contentment—you finance us into a state of contentment. We’re the ones who sabotage our contentment by indulging in grace-amnesia, comparisonism, and unchecked envy. By the power of the Holy Spirit, keep us alive to every good thing we have in Christ.

And thank you for the 3^rd member of this “trifecta”—hope. 10,000 times better than a feeling—it is our secured inheritance (Heb.11:1, 1Pet.1:3-4), the reason you gave us the whole Bible (Rom.15:4), and the grand reality that will neither disappoint nor shame us (Rom.5:5). Thank you, Abba. So very, very Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, we’ll never experience a wounding greater than the promise of your healing. None of our traumas in life—and the combined impact of them all, happen outside the domain of your knowing, ruling, and caring. That is both comforting and confusing. But it’s way more comforting than the thought of living life in a world in which happenstance has more control and power than providence.

Nothing would be more traumatic than to think of you passively watching us from afar—unmoved and powerless to do anything about our losses, betrayals, abuses, and harming’s. You are near the brokenhearted—you don’t promise we won’t get our hearts broken or have our spirits crushed in our journey Home. Jesus, I’d rather have your nearness than a life of never getting hurt. I’d rather live in the paradox of Joseph’s words to his brothers—“What you meant for evil, God meant for good” (Gen.50:20)—than to think evil is more sovereign than you—the eternal King of heaven and earth.

That the question most repeated in the Bible is, “How long, Oh Lord?”—actually consoles us. We join centuries of your daughters and sons honest about our today’s traumas, and equally grateful about our forever’s glories. Jacob didn’t get over his limp (Gen. 32)—and didn’t wear a sweatshirt with a big “V” for victim on it. Paul lived with his “thorn in the flesh” until his last breath (2 Cor.12)—and saw it more as a gift than an excuse. And Jesus, gracious loving Lord … throughout eternity we will look with wonder at the scars on your hands and side—the price of your costly love (Jn.20:27). Thank you.

Jesus, in the coming days, be super near to me, as I do some fresh heart-work on the backlog of traumas I carry. I’ve denied, danced-around, explained, and spiritualized things for which you have crafted particular grace. I don’t mind limping, but I’m done with minimizing, weaponizing, and pretending. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

“While they were still talking … Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, ‘Peace be with you.’” (Lk.24:36).

“Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me”—Saul of Tarsus, and I became Paul the Apostle. (1Cor.15:8)

Lord Jesus, not just on the night of your birth, the morning you walked out of the tomb, or the moment we were born from above… but every day in every place in a multitude of ways, you continue “to appear”—to make your presence, power, and love known. You show up in mercy with fresh grace in the shape of our current needs. Hallelujah, and thank you.

Whether it’s “out of the blue” or from within dark clouds—walking towards us in a storm or creating a “storm” to drive us to yourself… you are always near and we are always dear to you. Sometimes with a whisper, bang, or song… but you never stop pursuing, redeeming, caring for us. You meet us through our friends, always by your Word, and often by some unexpected providence.

As wars without and within continue—worries and “what if’s” pester us, old traumas haunt us and things we cannot control mock us—here is our confession Jesus: Our hope isn’t in mere men, chariots, or horses. Our hope is in you—your empty tomb, occupied throne, life inside us, and return for us.

Until the Day you finish making all things new and beautiful… Jesus, you are above us, with us, and for us—Immanuel. Your desire is for us, your delight is in us, and that is enough. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, it’s as simple and profound, daily and real as this: Because you have forgiven all of our sins, we should love you with our whole heart, with unparalleled delight. Likewise, we should be the most humble, gentle, compassionate people in our families, workplaces, and neighborhoods. Lord may it be—may it increasingly be so.

By the power of the Holy Spirit, don’t let us lose the wonder of our forgiveness. Don’t let us think our sins are less numerous or egregious than anyone else’s. Don’t let us ever get used to being forgiven by you. Supersize our Gospel-astonishment.

Jesus, convict us quickly when we indulge an irritable spirit or judgmental attitude. You tell us the log in our eye will always be a bigger issue than the speck in anyone else’s eye. Forgive us for not taking you seriously. Make your love for us more real than our past failures and wounds, present pain and broken relationships.

Free us to love you when we experience unintentional oversights and intentional slights. When harsh words are spoken to us, and healing words are left unspoken over us. When we are being ignored by people we love, or become target practice for people in pain.

In our anger, keep us from sinning (Eph.4:26-27). In our shame, keep us from blaming (Gen.3:12). In our traumas, keep us from retaliating (Rom.12:19). Jesus, only your love is better than life (Ps.63:3). Only your love will never let go of us (Heb.13:5). Only your love was, is, and ever will be enough to satisfy our deepest longings (Eph.3:18-19). Hallelujah. Thank you. And… So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, many of us remember when “the excellency of knowing you” (Phil.3:8) was greater than any treasure, trust fund, or acquirable “thing.” Worshipping you was our oxygen. Fellowshipping with you was more essential than water, bread, and sleep to us. Being alive to your love was what it meant to be alive, and it turned death into gain. (Phil.1:21).

How does adoring you shrivel to appreciating you? How does panting (desiring, heart-thumping craving, irrepressible longing) for you get replaced with: Yawing in your presence. Lusting for things that will rust. Valuing people’s approval above you delighting in us? (Zeph.3:17). Jesus, forgive and free us.

As our fears get gigantic, our faith grows anemic. We trade “You-for-us” for “us-versus-them.” We start putting more hope in temporal rulers than you, our eternal King. Our national identity becomes more heart-claiming and life-shaping than our heavily citizenship (Phil.3:20).

Jesus, we need you right now. Please renew, reinvigorate, and restore us to our first-love for you and seeking-first of your Kingdom. Make and keep us so thirsty for yourself nothing else will satisfy us. So Very Amen, we earnestly cry out.

Lord Jesus, center and settle me, for my dander is up and my blood pressure is rising. Arm chair theologians, meteorological soothsayers, and political fear mongers are scurrying to attach a meaning to Hurricane Milton, (as with Helene), to serve their bias and agendas. It’s so much easier to serve an agenda than to serve families, children, and communities devastated by a storm. Have mercy on us all, Jesus. Today is a day for neighbor love and sacrificial service. It’s also a day to repent and make sure we know you—as you taught in today’s Scripture.

If I follow weather-pundits logic, countries that are enjoying meteorological stability, prospering economies, and well-functioning infra-structures are under your blessing and good national government. And countries that are subject to climactic upheaval, great poverty and a steady stream of calamities are under your judgment—or the control of the “other” political party. That contradicts everything you reveal about yourself in the Bible, and it gives mere people more power than you have given us.

Jesus, you taught us God “gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike” (Matt.5:45). The same is true with typhoons, earthquakes, and hurricanes. Indeed, some of the wealthiest, weather-friendly, “stable” countries in the world primarily worship gods other than you. And some of the poorest, crisis-riddled, instable countries on the planet have the largest percentage of those who passionately love and follow you, Jesus. Today—and for the foreseeable future, may people realize we are your disciples by the way we love and serve them, period. So Very Amen.

   “You’re out of your mind,” they told her. When she kept insisting that it was so, they said, “It must be his angel.” Peter kept on knocking, and when they opened the door and saw him, they were astonished.” Acts 12:12-16

Heavenly Father, what a comical, but all-too-real scene. You answer prayer and we doubt the tangible evidence. Well, I thank you for “sending Peter” to the front door of my heart last evening with undeniable evidence. For months I’ve been praying for a “prison door” to open—praying dutifully but not expectantly; praying because I was afraid to not pray; praying at times for fire to come down, not grace. You sent grace. Thank you. It felt/feels so good to be astonished afresh.

We’d love to be astonished by “Peter’s knock” in several other stories—two particulars ones this October morning. You’re not “mother-nature,” but the ruler of heaven and earth—sovereign over hurricanes, heartaches, and everything else. Please reduce the power of Milton, barreling this morning towards Tampa and a huge chunk of Florida. Please protect “the least of these”—children and the elderly. Please intervene is supernatural, miraculous ways.

We also continue to pray for family members and friends who are strangers to your grace—seemingly allergic to the Gospel. As surely as you opened the doors and let Peter out of his prison, please rescue our loved ones from the dungeon of a Christ-less life and eternity. All for your glory, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, Eph. 2:4 is a most wonderful, throw-syntax-out-the-window, incomplete sentence—the incomplete sentence that completes us. It affirms three great realities that meet us where we are and take us where only you can.

(1) “But God” claims all of our challenges, crises, and crucibles until heaven. You are the great interrupter and grace interruption, Abba. When you “butt in” it’s always a good thing, a Gospel thing. No matter how desperate our situation, how uncertain our future, or how out-of-control things feel—this incomplete sentence will finish the paragraph, story, and our lives. “But God, being rich in mercy, because of his great love for us…”

(2) “Rich in mercy”—this is who you are, Abba: You are “rich in mercy”—not meager, miserly, but generous. This isn’t describing the depth of your pockets, but the essence of your being. We get new mercies every day because you never change.

(3) “Great love for us”—this is how you relate to us, Father: You have “great” love for us—not just love, but great love for us. Your love is lavish (1Jn.3:1), never-ending (Lam.3:22-23), unfathomable and multi-dimensional (Eph3:18-19), protective (Ps.5:11-12), forgiving and full of grace (Neh.9:17). Hallelujah and thank you, Abba.

Though much remains imperfect and incomplete—in us and all around us, we are already perfectly loved “in Christ.” Father, you will complete your good work in us and in the entire cosmos. We trust you to keep on “butting in,” no matter the situation, no matter your timing, no matter how you choose to do so—all the way Home. Hallelujah, and So Very, Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, I bless you for friends with whom I can do what Paul calls “groaning inwardly and waiting eagerly.” Sometimes the weight of life is heavier than the wait for your return is real. We need each other. It’s a great gift to have friends with whom we can ache without reservation, lament without embarrassment, and encourage without “fixing.” Thank you, Lord.

Jesus, we’ve never been more eager for your return. On that Day we will be sin free and fully like you—as hard as that is to imagine. Everything in the cosmos will be made new—not replaced, but made wondrously new. The entire earth will be filled with the knowledge of your glory and each of our hearts will be filled with your beauty. The barren places will be forested with hand-clapping trees. Desolate hills and mountains will sing and shout with incomparable joy (Isa. 55:12). We will finally love you as you deserve, and each other as you love us.

Until that Day, we choose to show up, bear hearts, and bear each other’s burdens—not tune out, numb out, or check out. Even though there’s no epidural or anesthesia to eliminate the pain of life in this fallen world, we are grateful you are with us and for us. And we’re grateful you make your presence real through our Gospel-shaped, grace-saturated friendships. Hallelujah, we’ll never know a Christ-absent day as we long for a pain-empty world. Hurry back here, Lord. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

  “You have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8:15 (NLT)

Abba, Father… how I love to call you by that name. When you drew me to Jesus, you forgave all my sins, declared me to be righteous in Christ, and adopted me as your very own and beloved child. Amazing, astonishing, awesome … I still have a hard time taking in all this goodness, Father. That’s why you have given us your Holy Spirit. He’s the only one who can powerfully combat the spirit of fear that is ever lurking—so wanting to lure me back into the dungeon of guilt and shame. But it’s true, it’s true, it’s really true… I’m no longer a slave or spiritual orphan. Jesus is my righteousness, the Spirit is my guarantee, and you are my Father. You cannot love me more, and you’ll never love me less. Thank you, and Hallelujah!

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who     have been called according to his purpose. Rom. 8:28 NIV

And what a Father you are … you’ve numbered our hairs and days. You appoint our joys and our pain. You give and you take away—both of which are wonderful, because the main thing you’ve given me is Jesus, and the main thing you’ve taken away is my sin. Your sovereignty is my sanity and your reign is my joy. You have not promised to make all things easy for me in life, but you have promised to be working in all things for my good. Though I can cringe, doubt, and struggle with your sense of timing, Abba, because of the Gospel I do not question your goodness. One Day it will all make sense … or better still, one Day some things just won’t matter to me. But for now, you see and bottle our tears and, one Day you will wipe them away and redeem their pain. We are blessed beyond all calculating and sensibility. Hallelujah!

SO VERY AMEN

  “(God) made (Jesus) who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.” 2 Cor. 5:21 (NASB)

Most glorious Lord Jesus, what wondrous love is this, indeed? As our substitute in life, you lived a perfect life of obedience, thus fulfilling every demand of the law for us. As our substitute in death, you exhausted God’s judgment against our sin. And through our union with you, we received a righteousness we could never achieve—yours, Jesus, yours! I am now totally forgiven, legally righteous, and eternally free. I will be more like you one Day, but not more justified. Hallelujah, many times over! Take me deeper and deeper into the reality of this good news. The more I get the Gospel into my heart (not just my head), the more I will love others as you love me, Jesus. That’s what I want to be about the rest of my days.

 “You were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.” 1 Cor. 6:11 (ESV)

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—glorious Trinity, this one verse reminds me how the whole godhead has secured my irrevocable, magnificent salvation. Wow… how astonishing, comforting, and humbling. Father, you washed and justified me through the finished work of Jesus. And by the Holy Spirit you set me apart for yourself and have sanctified me—for Jesus is my “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1Cor.1:30). I am undone with joy, filled with gratitude, and liberated to love and serve you. Eternal thanks, adoration, and praise to you, most grace-filled God.

“See—behold, ponder, drink in what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” 1Jn 3:1

Heavenly Father, I love obeying this command of yours. Because I want to see everything you will show me about the great love that comes with being your adopted children. So by the Holy Spirit, open my heart’s eyes to behold its height, depth, width, and breadth of your affection for me in Jesus. And, Oh, how I love the word “lavish,” when attached to your love. You haven’t dribbled, trickled, or sprinkled your love on us; you have lavished it—poured it on us without measure or by our merit. To be your child is like standing under the life-giving Niagara Falls of your mercy, grace, and favor. Thank you, now and forever.

“The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save. He will (does) greatly delight in you; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. Zephaniah 3:17

Magnificent and merciful Lord, this portion of your Word contradicts tons of wrong notions I’ve had about you. It also invites my heart to go to places your Spirit alone can take me. Oh… my… goodness! Such doxological wonder and heart overload—because the gospel is true, you greatly delight in us (and me). You aren’t irritated or disappointed with me. You are committed to quiet me with your love; not shame me with rebukes. You “exult” (what a powerful word) over me—not just with singing, but with loud singing. Abba, enable me to hear you serenading me in the Gospel—today and every day. I, praise, bless, and worship you for so great a salvation, and so great a Savior as Jesus.

SO VERY AMEN

“I have loved you, my people, with an everlasting (unwavering, inexhaustible) love. With unfailing love I have drawn you to myself.” Jeremiah 31:3 (NLT)

Most gracious and Almighty God, supersize the chambers of my heart than I might take in more of the wonder of this good news. You have drawn me to yourself with an unfailing, irresistible, powerful love—not because of anything in me, but because of everything in you. And now, because of what you have done for me in Jesus—once and for all, you love me with a love that has no peaks or valleys—always constant and awesome. I cannot add to your love for me, and I cannot take away from it; because it’s not about me, it’s all about Jesus. I’m undone with peace and gratitude, Lord.

I am in them and you are in me. May they experience such perfect unity that the world will know that you sent me and that you love them as much as you love me. John 17:23 (NLT)

Dear Lord Jesus, this one verse exposes how little I “get” the gospel, and what a neophyte I am in grasping the wonders of God’s grace. Let me get this right: you are telling me that God the Father loves me as much as he loves you… this is astonishing. How can it be? I know the right answer, but wrap the right answer tight around my heart and drive in deep into my spirit. My heavenly Father loves me just as much as he loves you because of everything you have done for me. You earned my salvation for me, Jesus—completely and forever. When you spoke those words from the cross, “It is finished!”—you were speaking on my behalf, just as much as for anyone. This isn’t just a “game changer”, Jesus; it’s an “everything changer”. Arise my soul, arise, and shake off your guilt, shame, and unbelief. Wow, and thank you!

SO VERY AMEN

#1 We are completely and exhaustively forgiven

“In Jesus we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace.” Eph. 1:7 (NIV)

Heavenly Father, thank you for forgiving all of my sins, all of them. Sins I’ve committed in my thinking, with my words, and by my choices. Sins in the past, sins of today, and the sins I have yet to commit. Such forgiveness is almost too good to be true; and it would be, if you hadn’t sent Jesus to be our perfect Savior. The riches of your grace have proven to be more than sufficient for the bankruptcy of my sin. I praise and bless you.

“His unfailing love toward those who fear him is as great as the height of the heavens above the earth. He has removed our sins as far from us as the east is from the west.” Ps. 103:11-12 (NLT)

Holy and gracious God, though my grasp of your grace often fails me, your grasp of me is as unfailing as your love is. Thank you for taking my sins immeasurably far away from me. Oh, how I love the geography of your grace—as far as the east is from the west. Through the gospel, I’m no longer afraid of you as my Judge, but take me deeper and deeper into an affectionate reverence for you. Your love is so compelling and transforming.

“I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no more.” Heb. 10:17 (ESV)

Almighty and loving Father, I know you don’t really have amnesia about my sins, but you have promised me something far better. You will never ever remember my sins against me, because you have remembered them against Jesus on the cross. He took the judgment I deserve that you might give me the grace I could never earn. Hallelujah, what a Savior! Hallelujah, what a salvation!

SO VERY AMEN

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing…” (Rom. 15:13)

“May the God of peace be with you all. Amen.” (Rom. 15:33)

Gracious Father, thank you for revealing yourself—for wanting us to know what you are truly like, and how you intend us to increasingly experience you. From Genesis though Revelation you reveal yourself to be the God of all grace, and in Romans 15 you “unpack” that title for us a little bit, telling us you are…

 “The God of endurance and encouragement”—and we need an ample supply of each, Abba. You know us by name, geography, and circumstance so you don’t have to guess what our struggles and needs are. Grant us grace perfectly shaped for our individual stories.

 “The God of hope.” In our world of fragility, hostility, and uncertainty, give us 20/15 vision of these 4 things: (1) Jesus’ empty tomb and occupied throne. (2) Jesus’ dazzling, living-giving beauty. (3) The place in the Lamb’s book of life where our names are individually written with indelible grace-ink. (4) A scintillating  faith-peek at wonders of our coming life in new heaven and new earth.

“The God of peace.” Abba, may your peace rule in our hearts—not just be the “window dressing,” background music, or occasional sentiment. Indeed, may your peace shrink our fears, topple our heart-idols, intensify our joy, and free us to live and love to your glory all the way Home. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, Helene has been big, you are bigger still. The wind, rain, and flooding have had devastating impact, and you sit enthroned above all three. We don’t understand the mystery of your sovereignty—why some friends wake up devastated by the destruction of flood-waters, while others wake up relieved by minimal damage. But as your children we do affirm that your providence—not happenstance, circumstance, or accidents—gets the first, middle, and last word.

You may not give us answers, but you do give us two things King David celebrates in this Psalm—strength and peace. Grant us strength (especially to first-responders) for serving one another in love—whether we live near or very far away. Strengthen hearts, backs, and arms for what lies ahead. This is a time for neighbor love, not self-preoccupation.

We pray for those most vulnerable and least resourced. It hurts to lose a vacation home—it hurts more to lose the only shelter, bed, and clothing one owns. May your peace not just give us relief, but joy in serving one another in love.

Because of Jesus, we know we are destined for an eternity of no more hurricanes, flooding, and any kind of “storm.” But until then, make the Gospel profoundly real to our communities as we serve one another with Jesus’ love in Jesus’ name. So Very Amen.

Dear Lord Jesus, “Thank you!” seems so small, too meager, way not-enough of a response to your bold and beautiful affirmation. What buckles our knees and enflames our hearts about us about this promise? Here are a few of many things that stand out to us.

• You are already enthroned. Hallelujah, we’re not waiting for you to become King of Kings and Lord of lords, you already are, Jesus. Adoration, not vexation, is the order of this and every day—worship, not worry
• You are actively making all things new, not passively watching all things deteriorate. In this very moment—in ways we simply do not see, you are working in all things for our good and your glory. There are no exceptions to your “working-in-all-things” goodness. Thank you, Lord.
• You are making all things new, not all new things. Hallelujah, Jesus, you aren’t writing a story of replacement, but redemption. You aren’t into re-do’s or do-overs, but renewal and restoration. Even better, Jesus, you don’t take broken things and make them “good as new”—you make them better than new, bringing the original into the fullness of your original design and intent. In this sense, the Garden of Eden was just a preview of coming attractions—pregnant with the new heaven and new earth. Wow, Hallelujah, Glory, and Thank you on Gospel-steroids!
• What is on your list of “all things” you are making new, Jesus? Here are a few for which we give you all the praise we can muster. Creation—this world will become the Eden on Gospel-steroids—plant and animal life, places we know and love, and everything else will be as you always planned them to be. Relationships—every one of our relationships will be perfect. Us—we will become as lovely and loving as you, Jesus. It will be impossible for us to ever sin again. Our Tears—not merely wiped away, but the pain behind our tears will be redeemed. Jesus, we’ll stop there for today, but you never stop working. Hallelujah, and thank you. So Very

  Jesus is “the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth. To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood, and has made us to be a kingdom and priests to serve his God and Father—to him be glory and power for ever and ever! Amen” Rev.1:4-6.

Lord Jesus, hope is the reality we crave, the centering we need, and the gift your generously supply. And, hallelujah, you don’t just give us hope—you are our hope. There is always more to you, Jesus and there’s always more of you. As John joyfully wrote right out of the gate in the Book of Revelation, you are…

• The “faithful witness”—the point, focus, and hero of the entire Bible—the emphatic “Yes!” to every promise God has made (2Cor.1:20).
• The “firstborn from the dead”—the archetype and end to every sacrifice in Israel’s worship; our resurrected, perfect “righteousness, holiness, redemption” (1 Cor.1:30); our great High Priest—ever-living to care, pray, and advocate for us.
• The “ruler of the kings of the earth” and of everything else. There isn’t a nanosecond, square inch in the cosmos, or “election cycle” you don’t claim as yours … not a crisis, crucible, or conundrum over which you are not sovereign.. Oh the hope this gives us. Oh the hope you are to us, Jesus.

Until you return to finish making all things new and beautiful—free us to live and love to your glory, Jesus. Drive out our fears by your love, and fill our calendars with your will. So Very Amen, very indeed.

“We had no rest, but we were harassed at every turn—conflicts on the outside, fears within. But God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus.” (2 Cor.7:5-6)

Heavenly Father, today and every day, you are “the Father of mercies and God of all comfort (2 Cor.1:3-5). When like Paul, we are restless, downcast, conflicted, and fearful, you don’t coach us from afar, you come near us in love. Though you can send birds to feed us, angels to deliver us, and strangers to “bandage” us, more often it is a friend to encourage us.

Someone damp with morning mercy, wearing the aroma of grace, bringing the compassion of your heart. Like Jesus, they don’t hide their scars (Jn.20:27; Gal.6:17), and are comfortable with weakness—including ours. Thank you, Abba.

Titus came to Paul. Jonathan cared for David. Naomi welcomed Ruth. Priscilla and Aquila took time for Apollos (Acts 18:24-26). Philemon was a refresher to many (Phile.1:7). Four nameless friends carried their crippled friend to Jesus (Mk.2:1-12). Mary, Martha, and Lazarus gave Jesus welcome and hospitality (John 10:38-42).

Father, thank you for our compassionate friends. But to whom would you send us as a conduit of your mercy and comfort this weekend? A call, a visit, a note, a text… it doesn’t take a lot of effort, and we don’t have to be in a great place ourselves, to offer a refreshing cup of your kindness. So Very Amen.

   Lord Jesus, what a great image—Paul and his companions were considered crazy by those in the world. But from heaven’s perspective they were controlled by your love. Oh, to be certifiably crazy like this. Not merely warmed, grateful, or deeply inspired—but controlled, constrained, and compelled by your love for us—it’s height, depth, width, and breadth. Grant it, Lord.

2 Cor.5:14 – “Since we believe that Christ died for all, we also believe that we have all died to our old life.”

   What defines your love and explains Paul and his friends’ “craziness”? It’s your cross, Jesus, and it’s glorious implications. When you died, we were co-crucified with you, and raised to newness of life (Gal.2:20, Rom.6:4-5). Your death was our Judgment Day, for you took our sin and gave us your righteousness. This is the Gospel, and it humbles and gladdens us.

2 Cor.5:15 – Jesus “died for everyone so that those who receive his new life will no longer live for themselves. Instead, they will live for Christ, who died and was raised for them.”

   It also frees us to live and love to your glory, Jesus. May that increasingly be true of us, Lord. As we grow in our love for you, may we obsess less about what others think of us, and ponder creative ways to love our family, friends, and neighbors—even our enemies, in your name. Make us that “crazy” Jesus. So Very Amen.

“The Lord is near, don’t be anxious about anything, In every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God, and the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil 4:5-7).

Lord Jesus, nowhere in the Scriptures have you promised us a disappointment-empty, storm-less, hassle-free, pain-void life. But you have promised to give us yourself and your peace. Right in the middle of any anxiety-producing, fear-fueling, anger-igniting situation or season, you are near. Thank you.

As with your grace, we don’t achieve your peace, we receive it—it’s a gift. You give it to us, and you will keep us in it. Jesus, please ramp up the intensity of your “keeping power,” because we often struggle to keep ourselves in peace. In fact we’re quite capable of sabotaging our peace by fixating on our fears, lingering in the “if only’s,” and fertilizing our resentment and bitter roots (Heb.12:15).

Hold us fast, Jesus—even if your grip hast to hurt a little bit. We’d rather have your “handprint” on us than suffer the consequences of avoiding you, or trying to squirm free from your grip of grace.

When fixing our thoughts on you is particularly difficult, grant us the grace of humility to contact a few friends to pray for us—not put us on a prayer list, but pray with us and for us in that very moment. The enemy’s design is to isolate us, but your delight is to come even closer through praying friends. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, hallelujah for the blessed certainty gifted to us in this passage—the sure hope of seeing you, our King, in your unfiltered beauty. reigning in the expansive world of the new heaven and new earth. How soon, Lord? When on the calendar of sovereign grace will our deepest hope be realized?

On that blessed Day, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that you are King of kings and Lord of lords (Phil. 2:10-11; Rev. 19:11). The government of the cosmos already rests on your shoulders, and you are currently ruler of every king on the earth’s surface (Rev. 1:5). All things in creation and history, in heaven and on earth, exist by you and for you, Jesus (Col. 1:15-20).

And wonder of wonders—astonishment of all astonishments, you died to make us your beloved Bride. The delight you have in us equals the love you have for your Father, and the love he has for you. Your joy is perpetual, your beauty is unparalleled, and your care for us is nonstop. Hallelujah, and thank you.

Lord Jesus, there’s so much good theology crammed into this prayer, but we ask you to make it an explosive wonder in our souls. We don’t just want to settle for being “Biblically right,” we want to be “whole-person-undone”—filled with inexpressible joy, saturated with your transcendent peace, overflowing with the hope of the Gospel… so much so we can only think of living and loving to your glory. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, your forbearance, patience, and kindness towards us are on display all the time—all the time. We turned this verse into a Ponzi Scheme for self-enrichment, when it actually teaches the opposite reality. Our calling in the Gospel isn’t to get rich quick, but be generous always.

The melody of mercy, tempo of grace, and rhythm of your love is generosity—starting with your big-hearted open-handed liberality towards us. Your “heavenly philanthropy” is always prior, during, and after ours—giving us grace upon grace (Jn.1:16). That’s why we will never regret being generous.

For sure, our kindness can be exploited; but you call us to be generous even with our enemies—giving them love, goodness, blessing, and our prayers (Luke 6:27-28). We will never be generous without experiencing a far greater return. The return may not be “in kind,” or in a time frame that we recognize. But we will have a “full lap” of whatever you choose to give us.

So what currencies are you calling us to spend for the blessing of others this week? Here are 10 of many, many more: listening, money, time, mercy, grace, forgiveness, encouragement, kindness, patience, and hope. Free us, supersize our gratitude, and pour grace-rocket-fuel into our generosity tank. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, people who don’t know you might conclude these words from King David are his denial, spiritual spin, or a sign he had too much dinner wine. For he wrote this song when his own son, Absalom, was seeking to take his life.

But, through the riches of grace and in fellowship with you, nothing has to change for us to have your joy, peace, and hope in the depths of our hearts. It’s not that your joy replaces all sadness, fear, and anger. Rather, it contextualizes and  “de-weaponizes” those important emotions.

Whatever makes us sad, anxious, and angry isn’t ultimate. Only you are, Jesus—and your will for us and the entire cosmos. We can lie down and sleep in the peace of knowing you are with us and for us. Nothing can separate us from your love, diminish your delight in us, or silence your singing over us.

We can live each day in the safety of knowing not one hair can fall from our heads, not a breath can be snatched from our lungs, not a beat can be missed by our hearts apart from your sovereign purpose and pleasure.

The “more joy”—using David’s words (Ps.4:7), you put in our hearts isn’t just greater than economic prosperity (“grain and wine”), it’s also greater than being adored by many, the guarantee of never getting cancer or dementia, or having our children rise up and call us awesome. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, what a story this Psalm tells—from the pit of despair to robust singing. Though our “pits” differ from King David’s, we can relate to his helplessness—even as we long for his joyfulness. Meet us where we are, and take us where you please, Abba. Thank you that the Gospel provides every-pit grace.

Some of us are in a messy-story–pit with only a faint hint of resolution insight. Good people—your people, often experience the same situation differently. We can only see from our vantage (or disadvantage) point. Bring your grace to the fraying edges of our waiting, patience, and kindness. To “err on the side of mercy” isn’t an error. It’s to trust in you.

Others are in a fear-pit—a health, financial, trauma, or relational crisis. We don’t know what to do, but we do affirm we belong to you, Abba. Send the right friends, angels we don’t recognize, wisdom from above, mercy from across the street … it makes no difference the messenger, as long as they come from you.

Lastly, some of us might be in an old or new disconnect-from-Abba-pit. We haven’t disowned you, Father—and much more importantly, you haven’t disowned us. Whether we’ve drifted from you by under-nourishment, unguarded hearts, foolish choices, and/or isolation by the devil—the feeling of disconnect is real, but we know the way home to you is always paved with grace. Let us hear your feet running towards us, Abba. Thank you. So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, no matter how we translate, paraphrase, or parse this one verse, it makes us grateful for three things today: 1. You and your stunning, exquisite, lavish love for us (Eph.3:18). 2. New mercies as this day begins, because in light of this verse, we are neophytes in loving well. 3. Our Father’s commitment to finish making us like you (Phil.1:6).

Only you love like this, Jesus. Having born our sin on the cross, you now bear and forbear with us all the way into the Day of our perfect Christlikeness. You know the worst about us, and you still love us. You believe the best about us, because you’ve given the best to us—your image, as our Creator; your righteousness, as our Savior; your indwelling Spirit, as the first-fruits and guarantee of our perfect forever. Hallelujah, and thank you.

Jesus, you know the relationships, stories, and contexts where we feel like the biggest love-failures. You also know our confusion, fear, traumas, and reluctance to risk loving certain people like this. So we fix our eyes on you, and NOT this verse. In ways beyond all we can ask or imagine, love through us to your glory, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, thank you for the daily-ness of your warnings and the persistence of your woo-ings. For Satan is relentless in his commitment to “steal, kill, and destroy” us (Jn.10:10). Some days we feel more vulnerable to his enticements than other days. And some days, like Peter, we become his mouthpiece for harming others (Matt.16:33). In both scenarios, meet us Lord.

Thankfully, you give limitless grace, eternal wisdom, and resurrection power. The very fact that we often pass on your offer of mercy and grace underscores our weakness and vulnerability. It also confirms our daily need of the Gospel.

Jesus, some of us palpably aware of how sin is crouching at our door, wanting to seize us like it did Cain (Gen.4:7). Jesus, grab us, grace us, hold us. Temptation’s lure is hard to ignore at times. When we’re depleted, lonely, physically ill, or spiritually under-nourished, we are capable of making choices we will only regret.

Thank you for promising a way of escape and endurance for every temptation we experience in life. But, hallelujah, you also promise a way of redemption and repair when we give into temptation. You give daily mercies because we need them. You give moment-to-moment grace because you are so loving and we are very weak.

Jesus, you often give fresh grace through faithful friends. What friends do we need to call to share our weakness and need for prayer—and enter their heart struggle as well? We truly need each other. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, thank you. I’m tired, but re-fired. I’m groggy from flying 4236 miles from London, England to Franklin, TN, but more so I am more encouraged, grateful, and hope-filled about what you are doing in your world. Faith not fear, hope not despair, life on mission—not a life of fretting is our Gospel-fueled calling and privilege.

For the past three weeks, you gave me and Darlene a palpable taste of the vision you gave the Apostle John. One Day your impossible-to-count Bride, from-every-nation Bride WILL gather and sing praise to you with such passion and joy it will take our glorified ears to sustain the volume and wonder.

It’s not that we saw so many believers we could not count them. It’s that we met so many believers from all kinds of stories, backgrounds, nations, languages, and ages we could not ignore what we were witnessing. Salvation belongs to you, Jesus, and you are generous with it. Hallelujah, and thank you.

From Edinburgh to the highlands of Inverness, in the middle of downtown Manchester to the lovely community of Maynooth—just outside Dublin N I, in the seaside town of Buncrana to the farmlands of Fahan, and in the giant mega-city of London, you are loving and you are redeeming. Thank you for our friends Neil and Louise, Ralph and Anna, Tom and Vicki, and Marty and Julie, and Rose Marie Miller—and every grace of her nearly 100-year-old life. They serve you faithfully in all these places, and loved us well. However long you give us, Jesus, we want to follow them as they follow you—all the way into the new heaven and new earth. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, this little verse is a major truth. Today, like every day, we will be wooed, won, and ruled by someone or something. It’s impossible to live without a heart-boss. We want that to be you and your all-circumstance transcending peace. What is your temporal competition?

Satan loves to condemn us and envy lurks to discontent us. Good concerns morph into paralyzing fears, and normal disappointments mutate into big anger. Our flesh gets easily irritated and our imagination runs to illusions. Old regrets come back to haunt us, and new fantasies emerge to seduce us. The line of wanna-be heart-bosses will not cease till we’re in heaven.

So with palms up, we gladly surrender our hearts to you and your peace as our sovereign, king, and boss on this September Tuesday. Jesus, only you are the Prince of Peace. Everything else is a carpet-bagger of snake oil—a late night TV ad overpromising and underdelivering—a hologram of a great feast, offering cardboard bread and bitter water. May your peace work as a centering and settling power in our hearts today—in our “testy” relationships and unfinished stories … in this angry culture and our unknown future … in our known weaknesses and heart-numbing successes.

And when we forfeit, forsake, or forget you and the peace only you give—reel our hearts back in quickly and firmly. We are grateful you are a powerful Lord, not a distant cheerleader. Thank you, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, I’ve never craved this Day more—the Day when your glory will fill the earth, and every expression of harm will be gone forever. Traveling and ministering the past 20 days with Darlene in Edinburgh, Manchester, Fahan and Buncrana Ireland has given us palpable glimpses of the beauty of your now-and-coming Kingdom, but has also highlighted the brokenness that remains.

And waking up to news of a 2^nd attempt to assassinate former American President Trump further underscores the enmity that remains in our hearts and world. More than ever, we long for the Day when all creation—including the animal kingdom, will declare your truth, goodness, and beauty, Jesus.

But as much as we love the vision of peace in creation, we long a 10,000 times more for the Day when we two-legged image-bearers of God will never again harm one other. Political parties will be replaced with Gospel parties. No one will be used or sold—only welcomed and cherished. There won’t be any more spite, fight, or flight—no more selfishness, racism, or tribalism.

Indeed, hasten the Day when God’s glory will cover the earth like salt water covers the oceans of the world—the Day when knowing the Lord won’t be something we do, but who we are—the Day when we will finally and fully love one another as you love us. We love so partially, selectively, and imperfectly Jesus. We are so ready to see you and be made perfect in love (1Jn.4:18). So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, the history wrapped around this verse underscores why we can never over-emphasize your grace. Grace never needs to be balanced with something; for your grace isn’t a “something,” but a Someone—your beloved Son. Jesus is grace incarnate.

Indeed, what an amazing story Paul gives us in 2 Corinthians 8. The hard-life, “dirt-poor” Macedonians became a model of joyful living and giving. Guilt, fear and legalism can’t generate that kind of freedom. Generosity finds its roots and wings in the Gospel—in Jesus himself. Grace upon grace upon grace—that’s what we need, and what you so freely give.

Oh that this could be said about each of us and our churches… “We want you to know about the grace Abba gave Scotty, Kip, Bowman, John, Scott… Cornerstone Free Church in Edinburgh, City Church in Manchester, Fahan Presbyterian Church, Ireland—not random names but good friends and churches I’ve preached in the past 3 Sundays. Yesterday, what an honor it was to stand on the shore in Buncrana, Ireland, worshipping and praying with the Fahan elders at the very spot John Newton came ashore post-storm and a new man by your Amazing Grace. No longer a slave trader, forever a loving bond-servant of Jesus.

Do it again, Father—over and over. Come visit us in saving and transforming power, by the Holy Spirit. May Jesus once again be our greatest treasure, utter delight, and all-life-claiming King. Fill our hearts with your grace and our hands your mercy. Rescue, free, and transform us like your son, John Newton. We’d love there to be credible rumors of a fresh grace-revival in our lives and churches. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, few things are as aromatic as lives marked by humility, grace, and kindness. It’s like the scent arising from a big pot of perfectly seasoned “Michelin-Star-Chef-goodness”—blending, simmering, filling the kitchen with allure and welcome. It’s like walking into our favorite bakery at 5am, when all the fresh baked breads and pastries (gluten and gluten-free – lol) are emerging from the oven.

When we, your beloved children, practice the art of Jesus’ love, it is a bouquet of beauty—a service of worship that causes angels to dance and the Trinity to rejoice. In our marriages, friendships, church families—in all of our relational contexts, to love as Jesus loves us … nothing is more important. It’s the living proof of the Gospel, the most valuable inheritance we can give our children, the on ramp for prodigals to come home and non-believers to believe.

Father, your mercies are new every morning because we need them every day. None of us is beyond the need or reach of your grace. For your glory and our healing, free us to live and love to your glory. It’s certainly challenging, often complicated, but always our calling. Humble, soften, and gentle us, Abba.

Help us get low and get serious about practicing the art of Jesus’ love. May we care 100 times more about being kind than being right. May we care 1000 times more about you being honored than us being vindicated. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, we live with a relentless, restless, redemptive ache. I’m feeling it here this morning in Buncrana, Ireland.  It hurts, but it hurts good because it is a work of the Holy Spirit. The “firstfruits of the Spirit” will not leave us alone or abate. They continue to “stir our heart pot,” reminding us that nothing and no one but you can fulfill the intense longings you have placed in our hearts for yourself, and our coming life in the new heaven and new earth.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. And help us, help us, help us as we wait for the Day we will be “overjoyed.” We’re starting to feel like children whining and angling for a 7pm supper to be moved up to 2:30pm. Jesus, we tired of the brokenness in us and around us, so we increasingly sing the words you have put in our hearts and mouths, “How long, O Lord?” Thank you for the song, and for the promised resolution to our song.

Though it would be easy to settle for less, we want what you want, Jesus, and when you will give it. On this Friday, September 13, 2024, we honor you as the Lamb of God, Prince of Peace, and King of kings. Until the Day of all things new and beautiful, give us deep peace and clear leading about where we can best serve you.

With whom are we uniquely positioned to share the Gospel? Where can we best spend the riches of grace to your glory? Indeed, don’t decrease our good groaning, but do increase our trust-filled waiting and our grace-filled serving. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, incidental stories in the Bible are often extraordinary gifts.  I’m grateful for this story of a depleted, fearful, conflicted Apostle Paul. I’d never compare my situation to Paul’s, but lately I’ve been feeling my “humanity” and deep ache for the Day of all things new. I’m glad your grace frees us from posing and pretending. The Gospel makes us more human, not less. Thank you.

You put your head on a pillow and slept in a boat because you were tired and sleepy (Mark 4:38-40)—not to model anything extraordinary for us. And thank you for the encouragement you send us in various forms. Though you’re quite capable of sending ravens and rainbows, manna and miracles, more often than not you send us to each other. I love how Paul referred to his friend Titus: “His presence was a joy.”

Titus’ presence was a joy—not pressure for Paul to get over his weakness. Not a “learning opportunity”—as though life is always about take-aways and gaining insights. Titus’ joy wasn’t a rebuke to Paul’s weariness, it was a fountain of your kindness and encouragement. When you are close, “bruised reeds and smoldering wicks” feel no pressure to stand tall or glow like a lighthouse (Matt.12:15-21).

Even as Darlene and I have precious friends back home like Titus, during the past couple of weeks “on mission” to Scotland, England, and Ireland, we’ve been the mission field. And you’ve sent UK versions of Titus—sisters and brothers with different accents, but who all speak mercy and grace, and comfort and encouragement. Thank you Jesus. So Very Amen.

   Lord Jesus, some things simply are not debatable, including the Apostle Paul’s bold affirmation in our morning verse. You alone are “the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords—”ruler of the kings of the earth” (Rev.1:5) and “king of the nations” (Rev.15:3). Hallelujah and “Whew!”

Today we sing with joy, “The world has become the Kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he will reign forever and ever” (Rev.11:15). Indeed, “there will be no end to the increase of your government and peace” (Isa.9:7). This is our Father’s decree and your joy—the good news in which we rest today, tomorrow, and forever. Wherever we live, may your eternal kingship, current reign, and coming kingdom determine how we steward our national citizenship.

Many nations are used to having a “monarch for a moment”—for power changes hands as quickly as the weather. Other places suffer “tyrants by terror”—whoever can create more fear, trauma, and evil gets to call the shots (literally). Then there are countries with prime ministers (past their prime), absolute monarchs (absolutely bent on enriching themselves), others with good premiers under constant threat of coup d’état. You are singularly different, Lord Jesus.

As those who belong to you, we reaffirm our most defining and peace-giving citizenship is in heaven (Phil.3:20). We don’t just bow our knees to you, we surrender our hearts, hands, and remaining days to you. We eagerly await your return and the fullness that Day will bring; but you are no less King today than you will be then. Until every knee bows and every tongue confesses you as Lord (Phil.2:10-11), Jesus, we want to live and love to your glory. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, as I begin today in Maynooth, County Kildare, Ireland, I bless you for those you place in our lives as fountains of grace, revealers of Jesus, heralds of the Gospel. Nothing is more essential, glorious, and life-giving. We’re pausing today to say thank you, Abba.

Thank you for the cloud of witnesses in the Scriptures and those you’ve written into our stories—mercy-oasis’s in our wilderness, rescuers as we’ve wandered, and wingless angels who flew into our lives at just the right time.

Who are they? Here are a few: Parents and Sunday School teachers, Young Life leaders and campus ministry directors, various pastors and a wide range of teachers. Neighbors and strangers, tenacious roommates and sorority sisters. Our first disciplers, spiritual directors, and Gospel-posse. Authors we’ll only meet in heaven, and songwriters who connect our head with our heart.

Grandmothers who prayed and wept for us, and grandchildren who reveal your grace and kindness to us. Old worn-out cassette tapes, sun-faded book covers, and internet-streamed goodness. Missionaries who showed up and friends who will not give up. Abba, thank you, 10,000 times over.

From eternity to Genesis to Revelation—from our first Day in the new heaven and new earth, for the next 10 millenniums, and forever and ever, only you are worthy of our worship and adoration, and of everything we have and are. Thank you for seeking and saving us. Thank you for delighting in us and preparing eternity for us. So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, thank you for giving everything you promise, including hope and rest. And yet we are pretty good at sabotaging many of your good gifts to us, and we do so by talking more to ourselves more than we include you in the conversation.

Help us follow King David’s example in his bold affirmation and redemptive self-speak. On this Monday in September, free us from our self-preoccupied monologues, for dialogues shaped by your kindness, mercy, and grace. Teach us to address our hearts with words shaped by your truth, goodness, and beauty. May we say to ourselves…

“Anxious self, find your calm in Jesus, alone. Take your restlessness to the One who gave you birth and new birth. Surely you can trust him who gave you a new heart and his perfect record. Jesus won your peace, and is your peace. He is at work, right now, in all things for your good.”

“Vulnerable heart, don’t plug your “joy-cord” into mere people. Don’t hitch your fulfillment-wagon to burros without legs. Only Jesus knows you thoroughly, and loves you totally. He is all you need, and you really are his.”

“Angry me, how much energy are you wasting blaming, “should-ing,” and resenting? You’re acting like a stranger to Jesus’ mercy, grace, and love—like you don’t actually have a heavenly Father who loves and cares for you. Get back home.”

Jesus, thank you for freeing us from posing and pretending. Thank you bidding all restless, weary, and heavenly burden ones to come to you for true, deep rest. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, I am grateful the promises and imagery in this text aren’t similes, analogies, metaphors or hyperbole. You love us this much Your plan is this big. You intend the world you have made, and the people you are redeeming, to be overwrought with “an inexpressible and glorious joy” (1Pet.1:8). Hallelujah, we will receive!

I got a foretaste of this joy last night at the 10^th anniversary celebration of City Church, here in downtown Manchester. Through what you have done for us, Jesus, the entire Trinity already greatly delights in us (Zeph.3:17). The Gospel is this true, good, and beautiful. Nothing we do, or don’t do, is connected to a scale, scorecard, or worthiness-meter. Jesus, you are our worthiness, and we are your beloved. With our lives hidden in yours, and your life in us, all is good—now and eternally so.

When you return, Jesus, everything promised in this passage in Isaiah (and all of the prophets) will find glorious fulfillment. Just as our aging bodies will be resurrected and glorified, so our current world is destined to become “new heavens and new earth”—of which the Garden of Eden was a mere hint. You are already making all things new, and you will “finish the job.” All sin and evil, brokenness and lovelessness have an expiration date—and perfect everything has an arrival date.

Until that Day, keep freeing us to live, love, and serve to your glory. Our labors in you will never be in vain, Jesus, because your labor for us was perfect and complete. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, serving us… that’s all you’ve ever done—starting with the grace of being our Creator. You created us and the entire cosmos (Col.1:16; John1:3), and you now sustain everything by the power of your word—things above the earth on it, and underneath it (Heb.1:3). You are the “ruler of the kings of the earth,” and all people, places, and things (Rev.1:5). Hallelujah!

And as I start my Saturday here in Manchester, England, you are currently making all things new and beautiful—even in the places we see little evidence of your heart and hand at work (Rev.21:1-5). Your providence, not chance or happenstance, gets the last word. Everything you do, you do for your glory and our good (Rom.8:28) Double Hallelujah!

As our Redeemer, you took the lowest place imaginable in life. Servant of servants—the promised “Servant of the Lord”—the “Yes” to every promise God has made (1Cor1:30). You didn’t come to us to be served, but to serve, and to give your life for our salvation (Mark 10:25). Even today, from our Father’s right hand, you are serving us—“continuously living to intercede for us—saving us completely” (Heb.7:25). Triple Hallelujah!

And Jesus, when you return, you will take the posture of our Servant-Bridegroom. As mind-boggling and heart-overwhelming as it seems, you will have us sit down, recline at the table of grace, and will come and wait on us (Luke 12:37). Forever and ever, you will Shepherd us and lead us to streams of living water (Rev.7:17). Quadruple Hallelujah!

How do we respond to all this, Jesus? By living and loving to your glory. By serving others as you serve us. By adoring and serving you with everything we have and are. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, you have given us a freedom that is still hard for us to consistently believe and enjoy. We no longer have to obsess about deserving and earning, fear of failure and the need to achieve. The Gospel has forever “nuked” all the wrong notions we had about spiritual wage-earning, performance-based acceptance with you, and attempting to put a bigger smile on your face. You have declared us righteous by and in Christ. How can we possibly add to that?

Indeed, when it comes to gaining and growing a relationship with you, your currency is grace and your delivery system is our neediness. We are saved by works, but the works that save were accomplished by Jesus, not us. Hallelujah, and thank you.

And now, Abba, we joyfully affirm with King David that you will fulfill your purpose for us, because your steadfast love endures forever (Ps.138:8). In response to your grand generosity, may the rest of our days be marked by:

Faith expressing itself in love.

Hope expressing itself in mission.

Grace expressing itself in kindness.

Gratitude expressing itself in generosity.

Peace expressing itself in bridge-building mercy.

Humility expressing itself in repentance and gentleness.

So Very Amen we pray, in Jesus’ bodacious and beautiful name.

Lord Jesus, thank you for the green pastures and quieting waters of the past few days—the literal and figurative ones. Being in Tomatin, Scotland, (in the Highlands) was as well-timed as a visit can get. It’s been a challenge for me to quiet my tired, noisy, confused heart. But, thankfully, you have a lot of experience at that. Thank you for making Psalm 23 a present reality, and not just a favorite portion of Scripture.

Vulnerability, not knowing, and waiting aren’t something to get over, but a season to be understood and stewarded. We’d love to have things you don’t promise, Jesus—like control over circumstances, timetables, and outcomes. But you do promise never to leave or forsake us. You have promised to work in all things for your glory and our good. That promise holds us more than we hold it. Thank you, Lord, thank you.

Theologically, your sovereignty, Jesus, remains our sanity; but existentially, we crave a greater experience of your peace ruling in our hearts. If we weren’t certain of your love for us, Jesus, busyness, blaming, medicating poorly, and “copping bad attitudes” could take over. That never ends well.

Thank you for letting us be honest and needy before you, Jesus. Thank you that we don’t have to pretend or spiritualize our humanity. As a good friend told me a long time ago, relief is a pathetic substitute for a changed heart, so change us—change me, Lord—not just my circumstances. Until then, thank you for daily mercies and copious grace. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, our ache for peace is undeniable and unrelenting. Even though we have the assurance of eternal life—we remain discontent, restless, and vulnerable to temptation. Good longings and better judgment get sabotaged by our regrets, impatience, and demand for “right now” gratification.

The world of “if only” perpetually haunts and taunts us. If only we were 25 years younger, had different parents, genes, and story. If only we could win the lottery, had never been abused, were married (or single) again. If only our kids obeyed us and our spouse adored us. If only we were smarter, cuter, or thinner.

Our “if-only-list” grows longer and louder, until we hear you utter the only “If only“ that matters. “If only you had known today what (Who) would bring you peace.” Indeed, Jesus, only you (yesterday, today, and forever) are the Prince of Peace, King of calm, and Lord of contentment. Only you can give us the contingent-free peace we crave—the “everything’s-gonna-be-okay” assurance for which we long.

Whether we live in a penthouse or outhouse, have good health or terminal brokenness—whether we are loved, ignored, or forgotten by people in our lives, grant us this conviction and song, Lord Jesus: “Whom do I have in heaven but you, Jesus? And being with you I desire nothing on earth” (Psalm 73:25-26). Until the Day of 100% shalom, continue to fill and free our hearts. All we really need is you, plus what you choose to give us, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, we take this promise very seriously today—not as a cliché, “rabbit’s foot,” or sentimental hymn. No matter our ache, lack, struggle, or crisis, you give us grace shaped for the need (Heb.4:16).

Just when we’re about to throw in the hope-towel because the darkness feels too dark and the world too crazy—you give us “sane-ing” grace. You bring us back to Gospel-sanity, the perspective of eternity, and a fresh sighting of Jesus out of his tomb and on his throne.

Just when we’re about to enter our float in the pity-party parade because the pain is too much, the wait is too long, and heaven is too far away—you give us sufficient grace. Not sufficient as in barely enough, but as in surely enough.

Just when we’re about to appoint ourselves as judge and jury for people who disappoint, fail, or annoy us—you pour sanctifying grace into our hearts. You show us, yet again, nobody needs Jesus and his grace more than us.

Just when we’re ready to give up on friends and family members ever coming to know you—you give us sustaining grace. You remind us of this amazing promise: “I revealed myself to those who did not ask for me; I was found by those who did not seek me” (Isa.65:1). Abba, our calling is to love, only you can save.

Just when we’re close to isolating in shame, running away in fear, or medicating our pain foolishly—you give us more saving grace. For salvation isn’t just about getting us into heaven, but also getting “heaven” into us. Your grace doesn’t just save us from old sin and regrets, but also from today and tomorrow’s failures. Hallelujah and thank you, Abba. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, it’s Labor Day in the USA—what’s not to like? It’s a “legal” holiday, college football (sorry UK friends!) season is now underway, and a chance to be grateful for the gifts of work and vocation—even though our jobs aren’t always easy. However, we can’t think of “work and vocation” without referencing your grace-work on our behalf, Jesus.

The words “labor and delivery” often go together, and your labor on our behalf has brought about the ultimate deliverance. Everything changed with your declaration from the cross, “It is finished!” It’s why you came into the world—to give your life as “a ransom for the many.”

How “many” is “many”? Your bride is as countless as cherished. Heaven’s math describes her quantity in terms of stars, sand, and dust (Gen.22:17, Gen.13:16); and her identity representing “every nation, tribe, people and language” (Rev.7;9). Your love is that great, Jesus. Your grace is that powerful. The Gospel is that glorious.

When you died, death died, and performance-based-spirituality took an eternal beatdown. Works righteousness, legalism, and heaven-by-merit were exposed as graceless frauds. The “work of faith, labor of love, and enduring hope” now mark our lives, and give you glory. We obey you, Jesus, because we love you—not to get anything from you.

Should we get any rewards when you return, Jesus, we won’t need a neck brace to wear our stacked up “crowns,” just a nanosecond to throw them at your feet (Rev.4:10-11). What a Savior you are. What a stunning salvation you have earned for us. We are grateful, and that’s a major understatement. So Very Amen.

“I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord… being found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.” (Phil. 3:8-11)

Jesus, all I can say in response to Paul’s words is I want to be this free, this humble, this grateful—this set on knowing you better and better, loving you with all I have and am, and following you all the way through the resurrection into the new heaven and new earth. Grant it Jesus, for me and my praying friends.

Make the gift of your righteousness to us more precious, liberating, and worship-fueling than ever. We are overwhelmed with joy (and still struggle to believe it) when we read, and marinate in this summary of how you have given us your righteousness through the Gospel.

Heidelberg Catechism Question 60 

Q. How are you righteous before God?

A. Only by true faith in Jesus Christ. Even though my conscience accuses me of having grievously sinned against all God’s commandments, of never having kept any of them, and of still being inclined toward all evil, nevertheless, without any merit of my own, out of sheer grace, God grants and credits to me the perfect satisfaction, righteousness, and holiness of Christ, as if I had never sinned nor been a sinner, and as if I had been as perfectly obedient as Christ was obedient for me. All I need to do is accept this gift with a believing heart.

Thank you Jesus. Thank you Jesus … Hallelujah, and Thank you Jesus. So Very Amen

Jesus, there is no greater need or privilege than being united with you, for it means our lives are hidden in yours, and you live by the Spirit in us. Legally it means all our sins are forgiven, our Judgment Day was your cross, and your righteousness has been declared to be ours. Hallelujah! But it also means Abba is now our Father, and we’ve been all the rights and inheritance of God’s firstborn children. Stunning, measureless, overwhelming, and true—make it all real, blessed Savior.

“If you have any comfort from Jesus’ love; any fellowship with the Spirit, tenderness, and compassion” … Make it real indeed, Jesus, for our actual union with you is to become life-giving communion with you. We are to know, love, and follow you everywhere in life. The legal rights we’ve been given in the Gospel are to become personal delights as the Holy Spirit deepens our fellowship with you, and he takes us deeper into your tenderness and compassion.

So what comfort does your love give us? It comforts us by its quality, depth, and constancy. Nobody loves us like you do, Jesus, period. You love us as much as our Father loves you and as much as you love him—Hallelujah! This is breathtaking, knee-bucking, lifegiving, and it is 100% true. We believe, continue to free us from under-believing it, Jesus.

You comfort us in our grief, fears, and waiting. You comfort us in our loses, crosses, and crucibles. You comfort us when we “get it,” and when we “blow it”—to name just a few ways your love comforts us. Through our union and communion with you, Jesus, we learn to love others as you love us (Philippians 2:2-11). Make it so, Jesus, more so than ever. So Very Amen.

Dear Praying Friends, the format of this prayer is different from my usual daily posts, both with regard to the time of day and it’s style and content. Instead of my praying for, this time I’m asking you to pray for me. Darlene and I just arrived in Edinburgh, Scotland—the beginning of three weeks in the UK to encourage ministry couples we dearly love and who love us “bodaciously” well.

I’ll be teaching/preaching here in Edinburgh, then in Manchester, England, and finally in County Donegal, Ireland. We love being here, and we love what Jesus is doing throughout the UK, and indeed, throughout the entire world. We covet your prayers—for us and for those with whom we are honored to spend time.

Darlene and I begin these three weeks a bit weary, tired, older, and totally in need of the God who raises the dead to do his work—in us, not just in our friends here. We learned a long time ago that Abba does his best work through us in our weakness, so we qualify!

With all of you, we are grateful that our Father will complete the good work our Father began in us, in each of you, and his entire cosmos. The final third of 2024 isn’t a time for fear but faith—faith expressing itself in love, all the way into the new heaven and new earth. So Very Amen. Love, Scotty

Lord Jesus, “hurricane season” has a particular meaning for those of us who live in the southern part of the United States. But it’s not an exaggeration to say we’ve lived in “hurricane season” ever since sin and death entered the world.  Some hurricanes happen in the environment; others in our hearts, culture, nation-to-nation affairs, and our everyday relationships.

Indeed, relational storms can feel like everything from a late afternoon popup storm to a category 5 hurricane. The impact can be minor to devastating. We can rebuild homes easier than our relationships. Have mercy on us, Jesus. Bring the power of the Gospel to bear in all of our relationships.

Thank you for being present in every storm we experience in life—even when we interpret your less than apparent engagement as indifference. Because of your life, death, and resurrection, we never have to ask, “Teacher, don’t you care?” No one cares about us more than you do, Jesus. You aren’t “merely” our teacher; you are our perfect Righteousness, reigning King, and returning Bridegroom.

You always give us what we need, even when it doesn’t line up with our specific ask, druthers, or timetable. We will never experience a Christ-absent, Father-less, or Spirit-void day. You never leave us and you’re always at work. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, I clearly see myself in this story, but like this dear man, I need your ophthalmological help and healing. For I often see people through the astigmatism of my pain, prejudices, and pride. I also perceive life in this crazy, broken world with the shortsightedness of unbelief, fear, and selfishness. Heart-cataracts distort my perception of the work you are faithfully doing everywhere, all the time. Heal me, Lord.

By your grace, Spirit, and the eye of faith, there’s so much I want to see more clearly. First and foremost, I want to see you, Jesus—more of your truth, goodness, and beauty. For the better I see you, I’ll look at everything and everyone else through the corrective lens of the Gospel.

Like Abraham (Heb.11:10), I want a 20/20 vision of our ultimate home—the City of God and our coming life in the new heaven and new earth. Show me more of the “better-by-far-ness” of heaven so I will serve you more joyfully, patiently, and sacrificially till the Day you return.

Jesus, help me love tears more—mine and the tears of others. For some things can only be seen with empathy and compassion through the unique lens of our heart-water. You honor our tears enough to bottle them, so we shouldn’t be in a hurry to either dismiss or despise them.

Until the Day we see you as you actually are, Jesus, and will be made fully, wondrously, gloriously like you (1Jn.3:1-3), help us to see all things from your heart and timetable, and with your mercy and grace. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, this one little verse is the Pacific Ocean of grace, the Niagara Falls of mercy, the Swiss Alps of wonder, the Maldives Beaches of peace. Come, nourish and flourish our hearts with the wonders of your love and the riches of your grace. No one is more dialed in to our weariness and weakness than you, and no one is better at refreshing and replenishing.

What’s the story(ies) behind our various experiences of weariness and weakness?  Where do we start? Most people we encounter are struggling with things they hide well, spinning more plates than Abba decreed, and bearing more heartache than we realize. What about ourselves? Spirit, show us.

Underneath a calm surface might be a riptide of shame, fear, trauma, and self-contempt. Behind much hair-trigger anger is dammed-up sadness, unvoiced hurt, unwept tears. Some friends we haven’t seen in a while aren’t on vacation, but in self-chosen isolation. It’s just easier and feels safer to them.

Jesus, we are grateful the Gospel puts an end to the need to pose and pretend, minimizie our needs and anesthetize our pain. Free us to get the help we need, the counsel we lack, and the replenishment you promise. And give us compassion for fellow strugglers. Turn our hasty reactions into slow listening and non-judgmental presence.

Settle and center our hearts today with the good news—the fresh news of the Gospel. Jesus, your love for us isn’t just better than life (Psalm 63:3), it’s the only love that can heal, satisfy, refresh, and replenish us. Thank you, Lord. So Very Amen

Dear Jesus, as the last week of August 2024 winds down, I thank you for the diverse tapestry of friends you’ve given me—friends who increasingly enjoy friendship as “partnership in the gospel.” Not partnership as owners and stakeholders of a corporation; but partnership as in belonging to you, being clothed in your righteousness, and engaged in your commitment to “make all things new.”

And the tapestry just got bigger, with more colors, textures, nuances, hearts, and stories. Time with you started later than usual this morning, Jesus, because of my late-night arrival from the weekend you gave me among the Redwoods in Santa Cruz, California. As impressive as those trees are, more endearing are the hearts of those I got to retreat with at Mount Hermon.

A church family from Berkeley (Christ Church East Bay), didn’t just remind me of the Berkeley I knew as a young believer in the late 60’s, but it also reminded me that you are at work all the time, everywhere—in ways we see and in more ways we will only discover later. Thank you Jesus. Fear, anxiety, and angst aren’t the order of the day. Faith, hope, and love are—now and forever.

I’ve never led a retreat with more Ph.Ds. present than fly-fishing vests—so many “smarts” and hearts grateful for the Gospel, and craving a deeper experience of your love—the only love better than life. Thank you Jesus. As crazy as this time is in our world and culture, more certain than the crazy is your commitment to fill the earth with your glory and make all things new. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, you know how much I love this passage, for you used it, quite literally, to raise my heart from death to life. You took me from believing the Gospel for others, to believing its exquisite riches and sweetness for myself, as well. I was more certain about life after death than I was thrilled about life before death. I was shut down in my shame and insecurities, but you got me onto the dance floor of your welcome, love, and delight. Thank you!

You taught me there are 100 more verses of lyrics to the Gospel (rich theology) than the 5 I knew. You turned up the volume on the music of the Gospel in my heart from a faint 2 to a heart-palpitating 11 (robust doxology). Do it again, Father. Refresh, restore, and renew me (and those praying with me today) to Gospel-sanity and a fresh experience of your unfiltered, undiluted, unleashed delight. There’s no shame in acknowledging heart drift, faith struggles, and spirit-weariness. There’s only foolishness in failing to do so.

Father, assure us all over again that the images in Zeph.3:17 (and scores of others passages just like it) aren’t just poetry, hyperbole, and metaphors. By your Holy Spirit make your current delight in us more real than the lies of the enemy, the disappointments we feel towards ourselves, the wrong expectations we’ve placed on others, and the flat-out general weariness we feel from living in this fallen world.

Abba, In the coming hours and days, quiet us with your love. Re-convince us you don’t love us to the degree we are like Christ, but to the degree you have hidden our lives in Jesus and have made his righteousness ours. Turn down the noise, the unbelief, and our people-pain, as you turn up the volume of your singing and rejoicing over us. Thank you gracious and generous Father. So Very Amen.