And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren.
In reflecting on Jesus and His tomb, I cannot help but think of my morning playing Schrödinger's cat with a 3-year-old.
What’s my mission? What’s my vision? What’s my goal?
Presence - not presents - is the true gift of Christmas.
What if, instead of being jealous of all the babies, wedding, engagements, relationships, etc. surrounding me, I saw them as signs of hope?
Jesus wasn't excepting nor wanting me to be perfect in the way I thought of perfect. My version of perfection is a pedestal, a level that no one can reach where their body is impeccable, their academic record is flawless, and their personal life is unblemished. But Jesus Himself was battered and bruised, considered stupid by the religious leaders of the day, and had drama in His personal life.
I don't feel like I have enough as it is, so how the heck am I supposed to tithe?
We all need a savior, but few of us are willing to really admit our need for him.
Olympic story after story after story tells us the importance of each practice, each race, each match, each sacrifice to get each Olympian to their competition! And the same is true of our spiritual life.
What if we're not doing anything wrong? What if precisely where we are, who we are, what we're doing, and how were struggling is where God wants us to be? And what if, quickly and easily, God will lift our burden when He decides it's time?