Walls – like the one I wish I could rip out in my condo – can be synonymous with obstacles. They keep people out. Or keep people in, depending on which side you stand on. And our human resolve often causes us to be obsessed with obliterating obstacles.
Little by little. Seasons change gradually, but they do change. We don’t go from summer to winter without a fall. We can’t bounce out of winter without a spring. God moves step by step, little by little, unwilling to defy the natural laws He put into place.
I’ve been thinking lately about this idea of God working all things together for our good. Sometimes I think we apply this passage incorrectly. We either err on the side of “His glory,” or we find ourselves completely fixated on what He’s doing for “my good.” But I submit to you that these two things are not mutually exclusive. Let’s talk about it…
Don’t be surprised if you find yourself fighting a demon or two this week.
Jesus is most often imagined as the Lamb of God, peacefully abiding in the care of His heavenly Father. We forget that the Lamb of God is also the Lion of Judah. He is King. Kings fight wars, and wars can leave collateral damage. Wars are destructive.
We live in a culture that is far more focused on escaping the mess than leaning into it. But there’s beauty in the mess. Don’t miss it. Honor God by honoring His people.
Are you anxious? Are you insecure? Or are you fighting some other kind of giant? This is a test. He’s teaching you to fight. Pass the test.
Have you ever had one of those days where you just know you’re running on empty? Like you went to bed drained and woke up already struggling, searching for that batch of new mercies you were promised? That was me this week. Waking up thinking, “If the Lord doesn’t come through, I don’t know how this is gonna turn out.”
If we really want to see change, then “prayer” can no longer be a cultural buzzword. It has to be a biblical action word.
When it comes to how we perceive the “flavor” of our seasons of life, do we leave room for God to interpret what we’re tasting? Or do we refuse to entertain any reality other than the one we can see?