My dad told me that, not long after his father died. I understand now. He and I were close for most of my adulthood but he was a different person during my growing up years.

Losing your last parent is a major life adjustment but when you came up in a family full of trauma and drama, there’s also an unfamiliar activity available to you now. Exhaling.

You can finally let your soul unwind.

Imagine a life when you’re not constantly on call or looping through the cycle of building tension-drama-trauma-rescue-come down-comfort-recovery.

Decades of being the “first responder” self-assigned to my birth family and now, I can set aside the cape the never made me all that super and reveal my hidden identity— a human with needs.

My parents did their best and I love them both. They were young. They came from families full of trauma and drama. It was the sixties and seventies when marriages and families were tested, Alice didn’t live here anymore, and people started watching actual wars on their black-and-white TVs. Strange times and I don’t blame them for getting sidetracked. Lots of parents did. Forgiveness and grace all around. I only pray my children will view my failings with kindness, too.

Now that the smoke has cleared, however, I see that that’s when I started hiding. As a child. Probably once I got to school but who really knows.

Someone said:

“No one really likes you, you know, because you’re smart, not even parents.”

“Put your hand down, Lori, we know you know the answer.”

So, I hid what I thought and what I knew.

Someone said:

“Getting excited about the Bible is stupid. It’s a fairy tale.”

“No one likes a fanatic for Jesus. You’re weird enough already.”

So, I hid my faith in places it felt unsafe to express it— like everywhere.

Someone said:

“So what you saw a shooting star and now you’re all ga-ga about the universe? You think that makes you special?”

“What are you, trying to be somebody? No one cares about silly stories or poems. I could write if I wanted but serious people do serious things.”

“Stop crying! So, we forgot to pick you up after school. You’re home now. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Yes, yes, the worship at camp was amazing but you’re home now. Get your laundry done, we all have things to do.”

So, I hid my wonder, my creativity, my experiences, and my feelings.

You know, the adults around me— family, teachers— other kids, we were all just searching for something and in that search, we were likely to hurt other people. I honestly didn’t find Jesus, He found me and that was pure grace, truly He saved me in every way a person could be saved. But apart from Jesus, I’m just like them— all of us thinking we need to be “Superman,” hiding our true identities and failing miserably at flying, casualties all around.

Except at church. With my church family, I was free. Even adults saw me there. Noticed things about me and didn’t hate me for them. Treated me like my age. Encouraged my interests. Reminded me to put on my coat. And I learned there that when I stood in front of the congregation, I didn’t have to hide.

So I shared songs and poems I wrote. I shared “testimonies” at sharing time and talked about the wonder of the stars and moon. I began to teach Bible to the younger kids and people were glad I knew things.

But, when I grew up and left for college, as I encountered a bigger world, my habit of hiding came in handy. I thought it kept me safe and maybe it did sometimes but mostly it kept my soul locked in room with just a table and one swinging light bulb.

Gradually, as I grew up in Jesus, parts of me became real and I couldn’t hide everything all the time anymore. Oddly enough, the safest place I found to be completely me was standing in front of a room full of people speaking or teaching or typing thoughts onto the page that others would read (or not) out of my line of vision.

With others, I still hid my best parts, my most wondrous thoughts, my dearest dreams, my perfect stories. Some don’t understand Matthew 7:6 but there are others of us who have cast our pearls before the wrong people and we know what it’s like to be trampled and torn. Or mocked. Or laughed at. Or envied and hated. Or rejected and shunned. We know the danger of even finding a pearl, never mind displaying it.

Jesus, though, wants us to live in the light (1 John 1:7), to love without hypocrisy (Romans 12:9), and to not fear other people (Isaiah 51:12). And, He’s lived here so He knows the price we pay for that but He still knows it’s the best way to live. He’s patient with those of us who are slower to become real everywhere with everyone.

Thank God for my church family, my friends, my husband and the family we built where I have been free to love Jesus in the open, to wake my children in the night to watch meteor showers, and confess to the disarray that is sometimes the state of my emotional and mental closets.

And at my age, I’m finally gaining enough momentum in faith to get real in the greater world. To stop apologizing for my design (I didn’t create myself, after all). And even to stop hiding my sins, fears, unpopular opinions, and most whimsical notions. My heavenly Father loves imagination, curiousity, exploration, questions, and me. (And you, too.)

I’m not alone. Throughout the Bible, history, and here in our times, individuals have faced this challenge, this choice between hiding our real selves for our own safety or continuing to follow God in the open. Noah. Abraham. Joseph. Moses. Deborah. David. Abigail. Daniel. Peter. Mary. John. Paul. Keep hiding or follow Jesus into what is real.

We have nothing to lose. Really, despite the threat I felt, I was always safe in Christ. And so are you. “The fear of man lays a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is safe,” Proverbs 29:25 ESV.

Not safe or insulated from consequences inherent to a fallen world full of sinners like ourselves but safe where it matters, safe in our souls, safe until He comes, forever safe.

I’m at peace with those who sent me into hiding. They were hiding from themselves, too. I have some wonderful memories from growing up, too, and no one was trying to be hurtful, they were trying to survive and sometimes, it felt to them that I stood in the way of that. I get it. Maybe sometimes I did.

Now, though, as I enjoy the exhale and feel my soul stretch out in the light, I’m more concerned about not being someone who does that to others. As I come out of hiding, I want to do it as a child of God and not one who joins the mocking crowd.

This song from Switchfoot was a catalyst for me to move forward into becoming real by being real (back when it was popular). Does it speak also to you?

What is your hidden identity and when did you start hiding? When was the last time you exhaled?

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He enjoyed hosting a full table laden with food and encouraging guests to eat, are you eating, have more, there’s plenty, taste this, ever tried these, eat!

If he hadn’t been a fire chief, he might have been an Italian mother (despite his Irish/English DNA) or an event planner.

My heavenly Father also loves to feed people.

In the Garden of Eden, He offered Adam and Eve the run of the lush garden.

Imagine this paradise: “And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east, and there he put the man whom he had formed. And out of the ground the Lord God made to spring up every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food. The tree of life was in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (Genesis 2:8-9 ESV).

We hurry past this beauty but we should linger. There is a part of us, deep within our DNA, that remembers that Garden. Where are ancestors walked with God in the cool of the day. Where work was productive and relationships pure. Where any emptiness we experienced, God noticed and provided us with what was good to fill it— beauty, work, trees, food, companionship, His presence.

Only one tree was off limits.

“The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it. And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, ‘You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die,’” (Genesis 2:15-17 ESV). Then, God made a woman for Adam and he received her as the perfect gift she was. “And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed,” (Genesis 2:25 ESV).

As we read this now, we won’t even allow our imaginations to fully enter that garden because we know how quickly the other shoe drops. The fall of humanity. The forbidden fruit.

God’s command was about obedience. Will humans obey me or will they choose their own way? It wasn’t really about food but it wasn’t NOT about food, right? Because— it was food.

He could have given them every animal to ride except the ostrich— don’t ride the ostrich. Or he could have given them every path in the garden to walk except one path— don’t walk the wide path.

No. He forbid the fruit from one tree— the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. “‘You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.’” Genesis 2:16-17 ESV.

You know what happened. Satan used a scheme he uses again and again— Did God really say? Genesis 3:1

Eve misquotes God.

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For me, at least, although, I suspect you could lighten up, too.

At 65, I’m done with so many things and as I sort through those objects and possessions, I realize that among the “things” that must go are attitudes, lies, and sins I’ve tried to hide beneath mounds of clothes, books, and spiritual activities. A spiritual fire sale.

In essence, like the Velveteen Rabbit, Pinnochio, and Neo in The Matrix, after all these decades I find I only want what’s real. Real life. Real faith. Real friends. Real conversation. Real truth. Real love. Real God. Real connection with others seeking to become real.

In removing six trunk-sized storage bags of clothes from my closets, drawers, and storage, I confess that in saying “yes” to the dress, I’ve said no to Jesus’s invitation not to worry about what I will wear or eat or drink. (Matthew 6) I have chased “image” like the world chases it (except without admitting to myself that’s what I was doing). Tried to curate what others see so they will think well of me letting myself believe the lie that it would matter but the car full of donations speaks a truth I can hear.

When God came down He chose to be born “with no beauty" that we should desire him.” Born into a family of modest means and not to power or wealth, He entrusted Himself to the Father and not worldly means. By His life He showed us that God provides all we need— not my Amazon cart.

Too often, I’ve risen from my time with God only to turn to my closet, makeup, mirror for assurance and equipping for my day, believing that somehow, what I look like mattered as much (or more) as what I just read or prayed. But now I see God’s Word and those prayers were more real than yesterday’s fashions piling up at the goodwill. There are many of you who simply wear your clothing and have not used it as a weapon nor a disguise nor a PR tool, may your tribe increase. But I have looked into the mirror of God’s Word and seen my own heart.

As I become real, it is because I hear God being real with me and showing me how I’ve used clothes or words or various means to manage others rather than serve them. I’ll open my heart to the decluttering of my faith and removing all the knick-knacks of religion collecting dust when my shelves should have more room for fruits and gifts He provides.

And sure, the headlines are full of issues I believe can best be addressed by a right understanding of God’s Word such as:

• people who struggle with disordered thinking about gender and sex (and who hasn’t?) deserve sincere compassion where we are quick to listen and slow to speak but that loving them includes delivering truth about God’s design

• or that forgiving someone who has repented of sexually abusing children doesn’t include helping them violate their probation by trusting them around children which should have been obvious because that involved deception and secrecy from other believers. We can avail ourselves of God’s forgiveness and be embraced into the fellowship of believers while still facing long-term consequences of our sinful choices (like never again being trusted near children), ask Abraham and Sarah.

• or that political systems of this world can wear our faith like an accessory but we are fools if we fall for that scheme because God opposes pride and greed and the early believers shared all their possessions willingly out of love not under government compulsion so those who are called into politics by God should proceed with humility and be on guard against all kinds of evil and the rest of us should be careful not to call right what God calls evil.

But I guess the headline in my hours with God of sorting through all that must go and what little can stay is that Christian hypocrisy is on the morning ticker tape in God’s 24/7 news channel because it stinks to heaven and is a ball and chain choking the life and breath out of the gospel in our times.

The only way to combat it is to cooperate with the painful process of becoming real— real followers of Jesus, real lovers of others, tellers of real truth with lives that align with our words.

We sin. Even though we don’t have to sin any longer because Jesus has provided a way we do because our old nature fights with the new (Romans 7:15). But when we sin, if we confess and agree with God about that sin, He is faithful and just to forgive us. So, we should live honestly, be real and not pretend that either we don’t sin or that our sin is fine because we live under grace. It’s not fine. Sin is against God and we are for God so we are against sin.

I hate my sin— vanity, pride, envy, prayerlessness, selfishness, greed and a measure of hypocrisy. After over sixty years of walking with Jesus, you’d think I’d have overcome it all by now but there it is, hidden in my closets, on my bookshelves, among the trinkets and costumes I use to curate myself so others cannot see the real me.

But, perhaps, like Pinocchio, as I confess each lie and toss it away with the items hoarded in the junk drawers of my soul, I am becoming a real girl, a real disciple, a real child of God preparing to enter an eternity of what is real and living it even now in the kingdom of now and not yet.

Impossible to walk through this world and not collect its burrs, I suppose, but with God, nothing is impossible.

But the Velveteen Rabbit is a child’s story and Pinocchio is a fairy tale and Neo only exists in a modern myth, you say. And I will answer you with words C.S.Lewis wrote to his friend Arthur Greeves about what he learned in a conversation with Tolkien and Hugo Dyson:

“Now the story of Christ is simply a true myth: a myth working on us the same way as the others, but with this tremendous difference that it really happened: and one must be content to accept it in the same way, remembering that it is God’s myth where the others are men’s myths: i.e., the Pagan stories are God expressing Himself through the minds of poets, using such images as He found there, while Christianity is God expressing Himself through what we call ‘real things’.”

Fake lives and hypocrisy don’t only exist in the church. The world is full of pretense and deception and sinners trying to hide. The difference is that our hypocrisy demonstrates a fear of truth and a lack of love. As we follow the God who is truth and love, we cannot tolerate one wooden limb of hypocrisy, not one wooden eye, nor wooden chamber of a heart.

As much as it hurts (and it will), we must be willing to become real.

Thoughts? I really want to hear you on this one. I respond to every comment and reply to every email.

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So, I’m assuming if you’ve clicked on this post that you either

1. don’t consider yourself a sensitive Christian,

2. didn’t read the title before clicking, or

3. you’re sensitive but your curiosity won out over your fear of being offended (good luck with that. From here on, you are officially on your own!)

We’ve all been thinking lately about sensitivity and offensibility (yes, I made up that last word), about being “in” this world but not “of” this world, about how best to represent biblical truth (often offensive enough on the bare facts) without living in a perpetual state of indignant outrage.

Years ago I was talking with someone about the TV show M*A*S*H which I enjoyed watching with my father who served in the Marines during the Korean war.

She shook her head as I spoke and finally held up her hand saying, “Oh, I can’t watch that show (or apparently even hear about it) because I’m so sensitive to sin.”

Not being stupid, I understood the implication (backed up by her facial expression) that I was somehow calloused to sin and perhaps should check myself that I was able to tolerate this obvious assault on Christian sensitivities without taking offense.

My initial thought was, “Lighten up, lady.”

My second thought was, “Man, she’s right. I’m such a sinner. What’s wrong with me that I’m not offended by M*A*S*H? Am I drifting from a godly perspective?

My third thought was, “I don’t want to give up watching M*A*S*H! I love that time spent laughing with my dad. There are situations depicted that I don’t endorse but also greater themes that I do.”

My fourth thought was, “From now on, I just won’t talk about M*A*S*H with other Christians. There, settled.” (Not the best place to settle. Hope you can tolerate my transparency.)

Have you ever gone through a similar thought process? (You can be honest. Remember, if you’re a sensitive Christian, you shouldn’t even have read this far in this post!)

Exchanges like that make me want to check my conscience and always reflect on how insensitive I’ve grown to the things that offend God. I mean, seriously, Sodom and Gomorrah grew up around Lot and his family and I’ve been hard on them. I probably owe him an apology.

And yet, those conversations also leave me worried about becoming weirder than God really needs me to be in order to represent Him here.

Once I sat with a group of writers, none of whom claimed to be Christian, trying to explain some of the parameters of traditional Christian fiction. No cursing. No graphic violence. No sex scenes. They were fascinated with these challenges but also wary.

One of them asked, “How fragile are you people, anyway?”

Now, in my opinion, relying on graphic depictions of sex or foul language is just lazy writing. Christian writing should reflect the excellence of our Creator. Hard work but worth it.

But, neither are we called to be thin-skinned, fretful, whiny-Marys hall-monitoring the world. Judgy-ness like that isn’t a biblical posture but a worldly one. There is no shortage of indignant self-righteousness in our modern culture and MUCH of the tongue-clicking comes from people who would have NOTHING to do with Jesus. Policing and censuring other people’s language, attitudes, viewing habits, and behavior has become a national pasttime with squads of legalists forming from a wide range of world views. Sure, some of them say they represent Jesus but they certainly aren’t the sole owners of that plot of perpetually pearl-clutching, protest-forming, folk-singing, reel-sharing, speech-making, hand-wringing real-estate. Judgy-ness abounds in our times, no longer the sole purview of a few overly serious church ladies, for sure.

I don’t see this posture at all in Jesus. It just doesn’t appear from a read-through of the Gospels as though the Son of God walked around gasping and averting His eyes at every corner and if anyone was ever sensitive to sin, well, He would be THE one, right?

Of course, He also didn’t wink at sin or indulge in sinful behavior Himself. Jesus was One with God. He did nothing opposed to the Father.

Jesus didn’t stand with the legalists but He also didn’t subscribe to the “I’m okay, you’re okay because we’re all just messy humans” philosophy that is so often the retreat of Christians weary of legalism.

We live in a culture that has forgotten God, ignores God, defies or denies Him, and cares little about the things He loves. This culture permeates all things. We are surrounded, bombarded, invaded, and saturated in thinking that is not informed by the mind of Christ. We can’t walk out our front doors (or turn on our phones, computers, TVs, tablets, or radios) without seeing something that is contrary to His will.

Hearing God’s voice and following His way in this atmosphere would be impossible except that with God, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26) for this is a “rich man’s” problem and we are all the “rich men” who live in times where people have the luxury of squandering their hours on indignation and offense.

While I don’t think I should spend the lion’s share of my time soaking in images of sin or reading about sinful acts, I’m also not ready to spend my day’s reading Amish fiction and transcripts of Jonathan Edward’s sermons (as fine as those activities may be).

I don’t want to cause other Christians to “stumble.” Neither do I think they should judge me where we differ on debatable issues. Romans 14 and 15 are clear on this but they are also clear on many other points that we conveniently ignore mostly because they don’t lend themselves to witty memes:

• We shouldn’t be quarrelsome (14:1).

• Each should be fully convinced of what he or she believes (14:5). This would seem to me to indicate thoughtful study of what God wants not just “I can watch it because it’s 2026 and Jesus set us free didn’t He?”

• We will account to God for our choices (14:12).

• If we grieve one another with our actions, we aren’t living the love we proclaim (14:15).

• We aren’t to make choices based on just pleasing ourselves (15:1).

There is cause for righteous anger stemming from love that leads to righteous action against injustice, deception, false teaching, the taking or devaluing of human life, slavery and trafficking, poverty, child abuse, idolatry and the like. Christians are called to love justice and mercy and to walk humbly with God (Micah 6:8). Not wag our fingers, scowl, and get our backs up at every cultural slight.

AND NOT to endlessly EXPRESS our righteous anger through social media or other fruitless channels without acting productively and effectively to right the wrong.

I don’t reject sensitive Christians because I know many of them love God and seek to please Him. Often, sensitive Christians have helped set my train back on the right track before I followed my insensitivity right off a cliff. (And to be fair, there are some Christians who consider me a sensitive Christian. For them, even bringing up the word sin seems unnecessary and archaic.)

I am learning to listen to others and be aware of what they might find offensive but not ruled by it.

• On debatable issues (like viewing or reading habits, politics or denominational differences), I look for peace in the valley and opportunities to love others. I also aim to be fully convinced in my own mind and not lazy or making choices by default.

• On biblical truth that is not up for debate, I have to learn to let the chips fall where they will fall (although being sure that I’m not meddling or communicating in an unnecessarily unkind way).

We are impacted by what we consume but Jesus pointed to what is within us as the source of most of our problems. We must allow His light to reach the hidden places in our hearts, souls, and minds to treat the deepest sins.

Humility and pureness of heart will keep us able to sit at the table with others in love and share a meal, as Jesus did, representing Him and loving others while still living in and speaking eternal truth.

There is a place to acknowledge the mess we have inside and openly confess that without Jesus, none of us would be in the family of God. There’s also a place to point to the fact that the freedom Jesus purchased for us makes us able to grow, to change, to move beyond sinful living to good and godly lives that impact the world for beauty, justice, love, and peace. We can become known for what we DO and what we are FOR more than by what we don’t do and what we are against.

Thank God for the sensitive believers who remind us of God’s holiness and thank God for people who can wade through popular culture, politics, or denominational theology without stumbling so they can speak for God using the language of the times. How wise of God to put us in a family of believers and not expect that each one will be a clone of the other!

I’ve no conclusion to this post because I want to start a discussion. How do you sort through these issues? What is your insight into this problem? What can you say that’s of help here? Am I alone in wrestling with this? Let’s talk. I respond to every comment and reply to every email.

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One single verse taught me that I wasn’t seeing everything God is trying to say through food.

It’s a verse you’ve read many times.

We’ve spiritualized it in thousands of Bible studies and sermons but we jump to the spiritual aspect too quickly (as we in the West are wont to do).

That’s a mistake.

Stick with the food.

That’s where Ruth’s story begins, isn’t it? With a lack of food. A famine.

The eye-opening verse comes at the end of chapter 1 but here is how the chapter begins:

Ruth 1:1 says, “In the days when the judges ruled there was a famine in the land, and a man of Bethlehem in Judah went to sojourn in the country of Moab, he and his wife and his two sons.”

Anyway, there was a famine in Israel, a lack of food. Naomi and her husband understandably fearing the empty bellies of their children took their search for food out of their homeland and into a neighboring country of Moab (current day Southern Jordan).

As far as we know, they weren’t on a journey of spiritual discovery.

The text doesn’t indicate that they were dissatisfied with Jehovah.

What it says is that in response to a lack of food they left Judah (which means “thank” or “praise”) and spent at least a decade living in Moab, where we are left to assume they found food.

Very physical, practical reasons for moving on from the land of their God.

Interesting that the Bible never mentions the family eating in Moab.

You’re familiar with the story. We learn that Naomi’s husband dies in Moab. Her sons take Moabite wives but within ten years, they join their father in death. Widowed and destitute, Naomi decides to return to Israel. One daughter-in-law remains in Moab but Ruth vows to remain with Naomi and her God.

The verse that changed my thinking about God’s message through food and eating comes at the end of chapter 1.

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But to do that, to ride the waves of the algorithms, I am supposed to research and write to the trends.

So, yesterday, I researched what is supposedly trending for you— my readers. That’s when I ran headlong into evidence that the devil uses trends to try to write the narrative, not only for the kingdom of the world but also for the kingdom come, the one you and I serve.

According to AI and other sources on the Internet, the topics you all want to discuss are:

• Red hats vs Red letters (whether we follow politics or faith)

• Iran’s seizure of that country’s oldest Protestant church

• Some denominations debating the role of women in ministry

• Tithing

• The younger generation’s exit from the church

• Conversion therapy

• 3000 different angles on the current American administration

Those topics certainly touch my life— and yours.

But, what I see in this list are

• a) trends I could chase or

• b) headlines intended to distract from a true hidden narrative— one that will matter even when these trends fade.

  

What I see is the danger of falling prey to the tyranny of a deceptive, thieving, hostile, destructive, murderous enemy who knows his time is short. An enemy who relies on gaslighting, who creates and exploits division, whose only aim is to blind, to burn, and to lead astray.

John 10:10 ESV says, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

Will we find abundant life chasing these trending topics? Or, will they steal and kill the life Christ is building within us and within His Body here on earth?

Jesus talked about why neither He nor John the Baptist played to the crowds in Luke 7:24-35.

He summed it up in verse 32: “They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not weep.’”

While Jesus and John were certainly trying to “reach people for Christ,” they didn’t play into the prevailing narrative but lived fully in the true story that can only be seen by those who are citizens of the kingdom of God.

Jesus lived daily in what was seen— water, food, children, the sick, the demon-possessed, sin, sorrow, pain, worship, joy, trees, cities, the rich, the poor, the outcast. And yet, His eyes were filled with what is unseen.

There were many times that Jesus spoke— He preached, taught, told stories, gave instruction, called people by name. There were also times He was silent.

I’ve thought often about His silence before Pilate. John describes Jesus’s conversation with this man who, from all appearances, had authority to take Jesus’s life. For a time, they dialogued but in John 19:9, Jesus doesn’t answer Pilate and that ratchets up Pilates’ anger.

Pilate exploded then because he believed that HE drove the narrative of that day until the moment Jesus refused to follow the course of the conversation. Jesus’s silence reminded Pilate how little power he truly had and then Jesus explained to the ruler that any authority he had over Jesus had been given to him from the One who truly determines the narrative.

Jesus knew the truth that Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 4:17-18: “For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

So, as Christians— both writers, readers, teachers, preachers, communicators, neighbors, coworkers, and friends, we must choose. Will our conversations and our attentions be devoted to the narrative determined for us by the masses, the media, the madding crowds and the forces, the powers that drive them?

Or will we exit that conversation and join the one Jesus started when the world began— the only narrative that leads to life.

So, rather than the trending topics suggested by my research into what the algorithms say we should be discussing, here are suggestions I have because they come up for me as I read my Bible, as I pray, as I listen to sound teaching, and as I engage with mature believers:

• How do we live like Jesus serving the world without succumbing to its temptations?

• What can we learn about living by faith from brothers and sisters enduring persecution and how can we serve them? Are we praying enough for those who suffer and for Christians trying to share the gospel under truly oppressive regimes?

• God made us in His image— male and female— how do we love and serve one another in ways that reflect the integrity that is in the Godhead? How do we honor one another so that God’s image is seen in both our uniqueness and in our unity?

• How do we, under every world system, remain free from the love of money, from greed, and from being enslaved by our possessions? How do we grow in generosity and giving to what will matter eternally?

• In what ways can we reach the lost of every generation— from children to seniors— are we presenting the gospel clearly, regularly, and fully?

• How do we love those who are outcasts? How do love those who defy God or who live contrary to what we understand to be biblical truth? How do we love our own children when they reject Christ or choose to live in ways contrary to biblical teaching?

• What does it look like to live in a free nation with the responsiblity of engaged citizenship AND the calling to represent Jesus? How do we love, speak truth, and remain unified as the family of God, blessing various callings, offering grace on debatable issues or matters of preference, and resisting the temptation to worldly power?

• How do we live in God’s story and not the false narrative of the doomed ruler of this world?

The topics suggested by the algorithims lead me to a sense of futility, like a hamster running on a headline wheel.

The second set of topics give me the hope of life even if nothing around me changes. Even if the earthly tyranny of mobs and merciless leaders continue to rule the day.

Jesus stood before Pilate, knowing the cross was hours away, with His eyes seeing the life that awaited on the other side of the tomb. That’s the narrative I want to live in every day.

We can exit the tyranny of the current matrix. Jesus did. I’m ready.

How about you?

I really, really want to hear from you on this topic. I respond to every comment and reply to every email.

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Seriously. Why is consuming food part of our design? Seems like a glitch in the system.

Clearly, God could have created us to receive a daily injection of nutrients or consume a single pellet that supplied every need.

He knew we’d make a mess of eating. He knew there would be tables laden with as much tension as take-out.

He knew some tables would have more than enough while others were scant of food but rich with unopened letters from creditors.

He knew there would be pain at empty chairs or tables set for only one.

He knew.

And yet, He also knew we would gather together and when we did, we'd eat. Sharing the abundance from our gardens, dishes that reflect our families, our cultures, and our tastes, and that in sharing meals walls would fall and hearts would open.

At the table, we might just see one another.

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He wasn’t kicking back skipping worship services because of late nights leading up to Sabbath services.

He wasn’t annoyed by last week’s choice of worship psalm or irritable because no one noticed he was the only one bringing treats for coffee after synagogue six weeks in a row.

Elijah had God’s direct line. He prayed with power. Stopped the rain. Revived the dead. Called down fire from heaven on a soaking wet altar and “the fire of the Lord fell and consumed the burnt offering and the wood and the stones and the dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench” (1 Kings 18:38).

Yeah, he was that guy.

And some of us are that guy. We have faith.

Faith when victory doesn’t blossom, when there’s no fruit on the vine, when the flock is scattered, there are no olives on our tree, when the car won’t start (again), and the diagnosis isn’t good, and the congregation is dwindling because of youth sports-streaming services-compromise (take your pick), and even when we look in the mirror and see an ancient prophet staring back despite having just come from the hairdressers.

We talk to God. Study His Word. Worship. Serve. Give. Serve more.

But, you know what else?

Like Elijah, we

• get tired,

• go crawling looking for our own broom tree,

• complain that, much to our surprise, even with faith we’re just like everyone else,

• and tell God how much we just want to come home now.

Spiritual exhaustion is a thing. Even if we do everything right (and who does?), we are only human. Formed from dust and ribs. Filled with the Holy Spirit but still, beings who start spinning like an endless search whirl once that fire we called down sputters and it’s time to clear the ashes off the altar and get ready for next week’s showdown.

God is more aware of this than we are and has more compassion on us than we do. He rejects our sin, not our humanity. We’re the only ones caught off guard when our soul-o-meter reads “spent.”

He doesn’t need us to be God. He is. We are not.

These days, however, we’ve got ourselves a situation.

Because these are the days of Elijah and so all of us are stretched— like stretched beyond endurance.

• And up to now, most of us have been trying to hold up our own faith.

• And up to now, most of us have refused to learn to rest because we thought we were the exceptions.

• And up to now, we thought all of God’s plan relied on us and those treats we’ve been bringing to share after service, the size of the font on the overhead, and the number of comments on that last post.

But the enemy is pressing in and the sin of the world is multiplying and faith is waning and storms keep coming and bombs are falling and there’s an election and people are dying and fighting and dividing and protesting and giving up— so much so that when we go to slink off to our own broom tree, every single one is occupado.

Welcome to the last days, people.

Hebrews 1:1-2 ESV says, “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world.”

No one knows when Jesus will return. Could be a century away. But life as a Jesus-follower is not likely to get easier.

“‘If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you. Remember what I told you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also. If they obeyed my teaching, they will obey yours also. They will treat you this way because of my name, for they do not know the one who sent me,’” (John 15:18-21 ESV).

We need a better plan than coasting on a spiritual diet of phoning in worship, skipping daily Bible reading, single-word prayers, and loving our neighbor from afar when it’s most convenient and likely to pay off. It’s time to dig in or we won’t have the strength to pray for those we love never mind those who persecute us.

God is, right now, providing the training we need for what’s next. Will we lean into it or binge our favorite show to distract us until the hour of preparation passes?

If you haven’t already, now is the day to go all in with God.

Or, as Elijah told the people, ““How long will you go limping between two different opinions? If the Lord is God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him.” (1 Kings 18:21)

Elijah went from faith enough to call down fire to failing enough to fall on his face and wish he were dead— in a heartbeat. Certainly, an aspect of that exhaustion was unavoidable but I have to think that one clue to his broom tree depression was imagining he was alone, the single prophet remaining who was faithful to God.

I’ve met a lot of those lone prophets in my time. To my shame, sometimes, I’ve been one.

It comes from imagining I’m the only one getting it all right. From keeping myself so busy with ministry and “important assignments” I don’t sit on a porch with another brother or sister and cry or laugh together. I wave at them after worship but I don’t go deep. I don’t take time to discover they’re seeing what I’m seeing, struggling with what I face (and more), wrestling with the same giant truths about God and realities of life on our planet.

Sometimes it’s because I’m busy. Other times it’s because I’m afraid. Afraid to stop. Afraid to be vulnerable. Afraid to find out I’m wrong about some things. Afraid for someone else to see who I am.

Sometimes it’s because I’m prideful. I’m the one who helps others. If I need help, where do I find someone to help me? There’s no one! Once you start thinking you’re that special, my friend, let me tell you, God’s planting a broom tree with your name on it.

We have got to get over ourselves, loved ones. Or we won’t be as effective or able to stand as life intensifies. And it will.

This temptation to pull away from other Christians is from the pits of hell. Resist it.

If you’ve been hurt or damaged by another Christian (and who hasn’t), consider that they (or their fellowship) may be either unhealthy, immature, or under the influence of false teachers. That doesn’t mean all Christians are dangerous. We’ve all known someone who has been in a car accident but we rev up our engines every day.

If you have faith in God, believe Him when He says He wants us to be family to one another—and not distant cousins—brothers, sisters, friends. Fellowship with other Christians is awkward, messy, sometimes exasperating or uncomfortable but it’s also refreshing, challenging in the best ways, comforting, and heartening at a time when we are at risk of losing heart. In the days of Elijah, it is good to not be alone.

Five steps to take now to Be Stronger in the Last Days:

• Open your Bible today. Ask God to open your eyes. Read. Consider what you’ve read. (Go wild and study the passage a bit.)

• Pray. Talk with God. Use your words. Words from the Bible. The Lord’s Prayer. A child’s prayer. Pray. Wait. Listen. Pray more.

• Get with another Christian. Meet up at your favorite place. Share a laugh. Share a cry. Listen a lot. Ask questions. Say kind words to one another. Schedule another meet up. Maybe plan to help a neighbor together.

• Show up for worship service this week. Ask God to open your eyes to Him. Ask Him to meet you there. Be fully there. Then, don’t run off. Linger. Accept the coffee. Sit with a stranger. Be with others who have been with God.

• Tell one person something you know about God. Don’t get fancy. Don’t try to introduce a whole story. Just say, “I was thinking this week that one thing I know about God is . . . (that He exists, that He is love, that He has compassion on the needy, that He sent Jesus). If the conversation takes off from there, great. If it doesn’t, try it again tomorrow.

Jude warned us and gave us instruction. What can I add? Nothing. Do this:

“But, dear friends, remember what the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ foretold. They said to you, “In the last times there will be scoffers who will follow their own ungodly desires.” These are the people who divide you, who follow mere natural instincts and do not have the Spirit. But you, dear friends, by building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in God’s love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life. Be merciful to those who doubt; save others by snatching them from the fire; to others show mercy, mixed with fear—hating even the clothing stained by corrupted flesh.

Doxology To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy— to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.” Jude 17-25 esv.

Forget that broom tree. Take shelter with the oaks of righteousness--your brothers and sisters in Christ.

Don’t weather the storm alone. That’s an invitation to a party we’d best not miss. Selah.

I respond to every comment and reply to every email. Really. I do. It’s my great joy to hear from you!!!

Paid subscribers will receive a new installment on my series about “Eating with Jesus: Discovering God’s goodness at the Tables, Fasts, and Feasts of the Bible” later this week. Don’t miss this one!

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I know that without even knowing you.

When everything broke in the Garden of Eden, sin twisted our relationship with God, with one another, with work, rest, and daily bread. The evidence is all around us. I don’t even have to make my case, do I?

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I’ll tell you when.

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