Handle Wisdom with Care

God’s Word nourishes our hearts like nothing else can. Its pages declare the good news that Christ redeemed us from sin, gave us new life through the Spirit, and renamed us as God’s beloved children. When we’re feeling discouraged or overwhelmed, we reach out and grasp our Bibles, feasting on the promises that He has kept and will fulfill.

Though we know where to find hope, we don’t always know how to use Scripture, especially when trying to comfort someone who’s suffering. Craving easy and immediate answers, we cherry-pick verses that appear to resolve the problem. As much as this approach seems helpful, it actually reaps trouble. When we pluck verses from their context and plaster them like Band-Aids over difficult situations, we risk mishandling Scripture and further injuring a wounded soul.

Read full article at Revive Our Hearts.

I Lift My Eyes to the Microwave

1:30. I punch the numbers and slump against the kitchen counter, waiting. One and a half minutes seems too long. My abdomen is howling, crying out for relief from the cramps. They shoot across my belly, fiery darts skittering through blood vessels and tissue and organs, a jumble of body parts fused together by metastatic disease.

It had been two years since I was diagnosed with endometriosis, four years since doctors initially missed the diagnosis. In between the two surgeries, the cancer-like disease spread to my ovaries and bladder, depositing trigger points in various nooks and crannies of my reproductive system. All it takes is a slight shift in hormones to spark the pain. It starts low, near the beltline, at the epicenter of physical and emotional turmoil, then radiates to my chest, arms, legs, back, and neck.

I lift my eyes to the microwave. From where does my help come? It comes from a loaf-sized pouch filled with beans, magic beans sent from heaven.

Read full essay at Fathom Magazine.

Why Adoption Is a Redemptive Pro-life Option

The day Brooke Orthman walked into a pregnancy counseling center, she made a list. After seeing a faint positive on a gas station pregnancy test earlier that week, she wanted to find out if it was right. Getting pregnant wasn’t something she’d planned on as a 17-year-old working at a fast food restaurant. When the counselor came into the room and confirmed the news, she rattled off the options like items in a catalog. Brooke had to list, in order of preference, which option sounded best. She wrote abortion last.

“I was scared, and abortion would have been the easy way out,” Orthman said. “But I knew there was a life growing inside of me, and whether that child grew up with me or not, he still deserved a place in this world.”

Read full article at ERLC.

The Happiest Place on Earth

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Earlier this summer, our family made a pilgrimage to the ultimate summer vacation destination, Disneyland. As we navigated the crowds, I noticed a common trait among our fellow mouse-eared tourists. With the exception of a few overstimulated toddlers and stressed-out parents, everyone around us was smiling and laughing. The strangers we met waiting in line, the families schlepping around snacks and sunscreen, the teens, newlyweds, and retirees – most people appeared to be reveling in the magic of their surroundings.

Before we left on our trip, I had decided to memorize Psalm 84. Halfway through our vacation, I realized how fitting it was to meditate on the happiest place in Israel while visiting the “happiest place on Earth.” Strolling through a joy-sparking atmosphere helped me imagine what it might have felt like stepping foot inside the tabernacle courts, except surrounded by songs of praise rather than reprises of “It’s a Small World.”

What made the tabernacle such a happy place? It didn’t boast fun rides, huggable characters, or photo opps galore. No, the greatest draw for the Israelites to visit the tabernacle was to be with the One who lived there.

Read full article at Unlocking the Bible.

Pro-life for All: Adoption

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For many years, I longed to give life. It wasn’t that I merely coveted the title of “mother” or felt obligated to take the next step following marriage. No, the yearning ran far deeper than external pressures or an internal ticking clock. I was an image bearer who wanted to bear image bearers. But I couldn’t, not when I wanted to, and the ache of it drove me to question God’s goodness. Why would the Creator of the universe withhold life from his child?

The answer came slowly, a trickle of awareness that sprang the day my husband and I attended a domestic adoption seminar. During a panel discussion, we heard adoptees and birth mothers share their experiences. The birth mothers explained how they had wanted to carry their babies and provide for them, but faced circumstances that would have made parenting extremely difficult. The adoptees described how they cared for their adoptive parents and also wanted to know their biological parents. As I listened to their stories, I could feel the sorrow that lingered for those who lacked contact with the children they birthed and the mothers who brought them into the world.

A revelation dawned on me then: I wasn’t the only person in the room who suffered. These adoptees and birth mothers also yearned for more ways to give and receive love. All of us experienced loss at some level; all of us wanted relationships that, at some point, seemed out of reach.

We needed a Shepherd to walk us through grief and usher us into new life.

Read full article at Morning by Morning.

[Photo courtesy Daniel Hjalmarsson on Unsplash]

Ponder the Mystery of I AND

The siren song of mystery stories came calling in grade school. Once I learned how to read, I gravitated toward the whodunit shelves at the library, lured by the prospect of completing a puzzle. I matched wits with Encyclopedia Brown and Nancy Drew, Hercule Poirot and Richard Jury, tracking clues on the streets of London, at the racetrack, and in cozy little tea shops steeped with intrigue.

To some extent, I think we’re all mystery junkies. The unknown beckons us, promising the thrill of suspense. But it can also scare us. Uncertainty is intolerable; we demand answers to hard questions like, “Why does God allow suffering?” Especially in an age where information reigns and misinformation abounds, it’s easy falling prey to the sin that tripped Adam and Eve: We want to be like God, perfectly knowing everything.

In “Surprised by Paradox: The Promise of And in an Either-Or World,” author Jen Pollock Michel calls readers to behold the mystery of our faith as testament of our God. Like Moses drawn to the burning-yet-not-burned bush, Michel urges us to pause, scratch our chins, and explore the “promise in a little bit of wondering.”

Read full book review at Morning by Morning.

3 Myths That Fuel Burnout

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A strong work ethic has always been my calling card. During college and my early career, I packed my schedule from the wee hours of the morning until my head hit the pillow late at night. Though my responsibilities have shifted since then, I still take on too many to-dos, then feel stressed when I struggle to cross them off. In these moments, I hear echoes of my mom’s warning back in my college days: “Honey, don’t burn the candle at both ends.”

Many adults with driven personalities feel compelled to work nonstop. Whether we work at the office or at home, we resist clocking out from tasks or allocating time for breaks. Email inboxes demand our constant attention; school and sports activities consume our weekly schedules. This compulsion even extends to ministry. We realize the harvest is plentiful and the workers are few, so we say yes to commitment after commitment without considering if we can do the work well on top of our current obligations. Wanting to glorify God in all we do leads us to strain our arms with impossibly heavy burdens.

Like the apostle Paul—who suffered fatigue, hunger, and pain as he poured out his life to advance God’s kingdom—we can expect to grow weary at times in our vocations and ministry work. But routinely overextending ourselves carries greater risk than merely making us tired. It can jeopardize our health and ability to serve, hinder others from stepping into roles where they can use their gifts, and captivate our hearts with working for Christ rather than with Christ himself.

Read full article at The Gospel Coalition.

[Photo courtesy Ross Sneddon on Unsplash]