King Jesus, on this July 4^th, the “passport” we treasure the most affirms that our present and eternal citizenship is in heaven and your Kingdom. And the flag we most love to see flying above us is the “banner of your love” (Song of Songs 2:4). We eagerly await your return, Jesus, for on that Day every expression of sin and evil will be eradicated, “everything sad will become untrue,” and all things broken will become all things beautiful (Eccl.3:11).

With great humility, we will bow our knees with your every-nation people—regaling you as Lord, to the glory of God our Father (Phil.2:10-11). And then, with great joy, you will celebrate us your Bride, whisking us to the Wedding of the Lamb (Rev.19:6-9). Stunning, gladdening, utterly amazing… thank you, and Hallelujah!

 “Seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you… because if it prospers, you too will prosper” (Jer.29:7).

Until that Day, Jesus, you call all of us to live as Gospel-sojourners—that is as resident aliens and beloved exiles, longing for the perfections of eternal life in the new heaven and new earth. We want to honor you wherever you’ve placed us among the nations of the world—living as servants and intercessors, not critics and consumers. Because the GPS of the new heaven and new earth isn’t beyond the clouds, but right here—in the cosmos you spoke into existence, cherish, and will make new (Rev.21:1-5).

Oh the peace this brings us… Jesus, you are currently ruling the world with your truth and grace and are making the nations prove the glories of your righteousness and the wonders of your love. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, the fireworks that will explode tomorrow commemorating our nation’s freedom pale 10,000 times in comparison to freedom we have in you—a freedom you command us to savor and safeguard (Gal.5:1). Captivities come in many forms, and we are grateful you have already freed us from many of the most insidious enslavements.

Some of the “biggies” include the fear of death—for you removed it’s “sting” and crushed its dastardly claim over us. In fact, through your work for us, death has actually become a gain (Phil1:21). You’ve also set us free from doubts about what our Father thinks about us in any and every moment. Because we are robed in your righteousness and hidden in you (Col.3:1-4), Abba loves us as much as he loves you—with the same passion, unwavering delight, and affection. Hallelujah, and thank you Jesus!

So, what are some of our lingering shackles, chains, and fetters from which we’d love greater freedom? Jesus, we want more freedom from the pulls and power people have over our hearts. How people look at us, think about us, and relate to us can be as potent as cocaine and cyanide—bringing both exhilaration and extermination. We don’t want to become callous, but mature and healthy in our human relationships.

Jesus, we also crave greater freedom in knowing, loving, and following you—which is core freedom and the key to every other freedom. It’s still too easy to relate to you like a “spiritual add-on”—super important but not singularly essential, really nice but our primary passion, “first in our lives” but not life itself. Change that, Lord, radically transform it.

No matter our what temperament, personality, comfort zone, worship style preferences are—irrespective of what our Myers Briggs’ 4 letters, Enneagram number, and/or DiSC test suggest about us, we want to be defined by knowing, loving, and following you, Jesus. Undone, overwhelmed, kid-like joy, Spirit-filled, heaven-minded… Jesus this is the freedom we crave. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, thank you for another Tuesday to rest in your grace, boast in your cross, and love to your glory. Only you are worthy of our worship, love, and trust—the very things essential for us to take these two verses to heart.

I know this isn’t an issue of “miracle on demand”—as though we can just click our heels, say your name, and our prayer wish-list gets fulfilled. Far better than that, it’s trusting you are already at work in all things for our good (Rm.8:28), and are actively making all things new and beautiful (Rev.21:5). To pray is to join you, not convince you. Here’s a few things on my mind, and in my heart early in July 2024. Lord Jesus…

• I want a photographic memory of the Gospel, and a fading memory of wrongs done against me—not to the point of being in denial, but from a life of abiding in your love.
• I’d love to worship without ceasing, forgive without resenting, live without comparing, and hope without wavering—for you are 100% hope-worthy, Jesus.
• I want to trust you with things “locust have eaten away in the past” (Joel 2:25), my lingering regrets of my immaturity as a young spouse and parent. I know the Gospel isn’t re-do, but redemption, so bring more redemption in those parts of my story, Jesus.
• I want to honor you, King Jesus, in this cultural moment—first as a citizen of heaven, secondly as a citizen of the USA. I got way too vexed and angry last time around—way too triggered and testy with people I disagree with politically. This time, I want to be “gobsmacked,” joy-filled, and peace-overtaken with a vision of you on your throne as “ruler of the kings of the earth.” Abba has left nothing to chance, but all things to you Jesus. Only your Kingdom is unshakable and lasting—a kingdom that is expanding all the time, and will come in fullness on the perfect Day. Hallelujah, and So Very

Lord Jesus, you don’t save us 77% of the way. You don’t save us provisionally—long enough for us to prove we’re worthy of your grace. You don’t save us with an “out clause”—in case we end up doing stuff you didn’t anticipate. You save us completely—without contingencies, qualifiers, or fine print. Otherwise you’d be a helper, not a Savior.

   Stunning, hard to believe, but true… because of your finished work, we are 100% forgiven, 100% robed in your perfect righteousness, with 0% chance our Father won’t complete his good work in us (Phil.1:6). Your love for us is steadfast. Your delight in us never wavers. Your intercession for us never stops.

All your prayers for us are perfect, Jesus, and each of them is being answered in Abba’s perfect timing, in a perfect way, for eternal purposes. Though Satan’s attacks are endless, your care for us is 10,000 times more relentless. You don’t just have our “backs,” but our whole being—not with the promise of a pain-free life, but promising a redemption-filled ending to our story.

With you as our life, death has even become gain. And if we could see ourselves as we will be in eternity, we’d be undone with joy and overcome with longings for that Day. Lord Jesus, we’d love all this Gospel-goodness to do some major shrinking of our fears, anxieties, and worries in the month of July. Not just in July, but we’ll start right there. We are so blessed, free, and yours. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, thank you for the gift of Gospel-renewal—your commitment to meet us where we are, welcome us into your presence, and restore us to the joy of our salvation. And thank you for those, like Asaph, who share their story of Gospel-renewal with us. Like Asaph, the writer of Psalm 73, we own our weakness, our Gospel-amnesia, and heart drift. And, like Asaph, we celebrate that as prone as we are to wander, you are 10,000 times more prone to find us, embrace us, and lavish fresh grace on us. Hallelujah, and thank you.

Jesus, until you return and glorify us, the most spiritually mature among us sing without reservation, “Oh, to grace how great a debtor, daily I’m constrained to be. Let Thy goodness like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to Thee. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love. Here’s my heart, oh take and seal it, seal it for Thy courts above.”

This isn’t a picture of backsliding, but front-sliding right back into vital communion and robust fellowship with you. In our most sane moments, that’s what we want, Jesus. We want to be able to say with Asaph—all over again, with first-love joy…

“You are heaven to us, Jesus. Nothing compares to the excellency of knowing you, the wonder of being loved by you, the freedom you have given us in the Gospel. You are our treasure, our portion, and our inheritance. Hallelujah what a salvation. Hallelujah what a Savior. Restore. Refuel. Renew us, Jesus.” So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, there are so many reasons we should look forward to our coming life in the new heaven and new earth. Here are 3 of too-many-to-count. Seeing you and being made like you tops the list. Second, it will be impossible for us to ever sin again—a stunning hope, indeed. Third, will be the enjoyment of perfect relationships, with everyone, everywhere, all the time. Hasten that Day, gracious Savior.

We—your impossible-to-count, from-every-nation Bride, will be identical in our Christlikeness, but forever diverse in our national, cultural, ethnic uniqueness. None of us will be erased, replaced, or canceled. Made perfect in love, we will finally love each other as you love each of us. You have won that reality for us by the size of your heart and the price of your life. Hallelujah, and thank you Jesus.

Surely it must grieve you when we love poorly—over major issues, non-eternal stuff, and by just being inconvenienced. To get irritated is to be human, but to repent quickly is to belong to you. Conflict is inevitable, but redemptive conflict is a choice—a choice made by those who champion showing kindness over personal rightness, and revealing you more than getting our way.

Jesus, help us. Free us. Change us. As we head into a holiday stretch—4^th of July fun, may the fireworks be in the sky and not in our hearts and relationships. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, nothing impacts us more than how we think about you. On our best days, we probably apprehend .07% of your actual glory. The more of you we see in the Scriptures, the more we’re compelled to love, adore, and trust you. Heaven will be an eternal joy of experiencing the inexhaustible wonders of your love, glory, and awesomeness.

Today, this tapestry of verses leads us to marvel at your current and comprehensive kingship—your lordship over everything, in every place, all the time. You delight to crush evil and you rejoice in making all things new. Gladness is your anointing and joy is your heartbeat. Forgive us for thinking less or other of you.

It’s comforting to know Abba has already placed the government of the entire cosmos on your shoulders. Your reign of grace and peace is expanding all the time. May it do so in our own hearts. Tame our fears. Shrink our anxieties. Supersize our trust and joy. Indeed, Jesus, you are the King of the ages and King in this moment.

No matter our passport, you are our peace. No matter our voting record, the gift of your righteousness is the record we treasure the most—for you love us and have freed us from our sins by your blood. Jesus, you are the only King Abba has enthroned who he will never un-throne. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, a visit with two multi-decade friends yesterday was such a delight, providing each of us an opportunity to get caught up on our hearts, and rehearse the various aches and ways our “outer man” is catching up with our age.

We left our visit profoundly grateful that every aspect of our being matters to you—body, spirit, soul, emotions, and mind. We also rejoiced and rest in the good news that good health claims us in the Gospel. From conception to glorification, your plan for us is good and your timing is perfect.

Until the Day of perfect health, taking care of our “tents” (2Cor.5:1-5) honors you, and is one of the ways we love our families and friends. Diet and doctors, sleep and play are an exercise in godliness—a part of our discipleship. It also honors you when we pray for each other, knowing you still give gifts of healing within the unfolding of your sovereign plan for us, your beloved children.

Father, however you write our stories, we will love and trust you. If you are pleased to give us either instant or progressive healing, awesome. Because that is what we really want. But if you choose to give us “sufficient grace” instead (like Paul in 2Cor.12:7-12), we might whine at first, but will be grateful forever as we receive our glorified body at Jesus’ return. You are SO good. SO Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, it’s easy for us to get irritated, fearful, and/or cynical with how random life seems to be. Changes at work, mosquitoes at our weddings, nations moving weapons around like chess pieces, freckles that turn into skin cancer, putting a cup of salt (rather than sugar) into the custard batter—there’s always something that leads us to ask, “Really?” “Now?” “Why?”

We may not always see your hand, discern your heart, like your ways, or celebrate your timing, but as these Scriptures remind us, you are in control of all things. And in this season of my life, I am WAY over being insulted by your sovereignty. It’s now sweeter to me than my granny’s sweet-tea, Pooh’s honey jar, and the icing on a warm Cinnabon. You never promised life between Jesus’ resurrection and return would be a “piece of cake”—a feast of grace, but not our favorite multi-layer cake.

Abba, you work in all things for your glory and our good—no exceptions. “You give and you take away,” but never randomly, always redemptively. You gave Jesus to us, and for us (Rm. 8:32). Surely, we can trust you with however you choose to write our stories—AND the stories of people we love.

When you wound, ultimately, it’s to heal. When you enrich us, it’s to make us generous. When you say “No” it’s because a better “Yes” is waiting in the redemptive-wings. Thank you and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, how can we possibly absorb all the wonder and riches in this passage? We know you neither lie nor exaggerate. Unfortunately, we under-believe and over-fear—so help us. This catalogue of “I will’s” requires the authority and power you alone have, and the mercy and grace you alone can give. It’s our inheritance by grace, not our wages by earning.

Help us get this straight, Abba, and deep into our hearts: You promise to never stop doing good to us, and to fulfill every promise you have made with great joy. This challenges the way we often think about you, and demolishes the lies the devil constantly tells us. How can you be this generous with us? We know the answer is Jesus, but make “the answer” more real, precious, and transforming than ever.

Because of Jesus, the everlasting covenant you promised has been ratified and defines all of history. Hallelujah, there are no “might’s” or “possibilities” with you, Abba, just fulfillment and timing. Right now, your delight in us is great and your singing over us is endless. You are working in all things for our good (Rm.8:28), are making all things happen according to your plan (Eph.1:11), and, on the perfect Day, will finish making all things new through Jesus (Rev.21:5). Wow! Glory! Thank you, Abba! So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, it the little “t” trauma department, I have ouch-memories of biting flies raining down on our family picnic on the beach. Every time we’d reposition up the coast, they’d follow us, intent on making us their picnic. Our bug spray seemed liked honey to them, as they continued to bite, sting, and gnaw. Our only recourse was to go inside.

Well, there are human-biting-flies too, but you don’t intend us to live life on the defensive or always inside. So you’ve given us Gospel-Gore-Tex to wear all the time—whether it’s raining human-biting flies, two-legged piranha, or people-ticks. As your “chosen, set-apart, and dearly loved” Bride, we are to clothe ourselves with 5-layered grace on a daily basis. “Compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience”—these grace-garments are never out of style, breathable but warm, and are very comfortable when worn next to the heart. They serve us well in every setting, every day.

Like when we’re the target of unjust criticism of passive aggressive spite. Or when a pop-up storm of the devil’s condemning work dumps on us. Or when we step into someone’s really hard day, week, or life… and we become the outlet for their shame, anger, and sadness.

All metaphors and analogies aside, Jesus, this is serious stuff. How we love, react, and respond matters—whether we are receiving criticism, OR are the agents of it. You have told us “the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself in love” (Gal. 5:6). Help us Jesus, big time, help us. Help us receive feedback non-defensively and give feedback lovingly. But don’t let any devilish judgmentalism enter our spirit. So Very Amen.

     Lord Jesus, Isaiah’s promise summarizes the deepest longing in our hearts. Though we sabotage, repackage, and squander our Jesus-shaped yearnings in a myriad of ways, it is you we desire and crave, more than anything or anyone else. For you made us in your image, redeemed us for your glory, and delight in us beyond all calculation.

Hasten the Day we will see you as you are, Jesus—the Day of no more knowing you in part, loving you in part, or being like you in part. Everything we call “beautiful” is a mere hint, quiet whisper, and vague shadow of your quintessential loveliness. The Apostle Paul chose the perfect word to describe what we will feel when we experience the fullness of your unfiltered splendor and dazzling beauty, and that word is marvel. Eternal life will include many riches, joys, and delights, but none greater than the privilege of marveling at you, Jesus. We will finally love you as you deserve. We will finally believe you love us as much as you say you do, Jesus.

But well before that Day, we want to behold more of your kingly splendor right now—meaning today, the rest of summer 2024, and beyond. For, Jesus, you are the Monarch of mercy—the Sovereign of salvation, “the ruler of the kings of the earth” (Rev.1:5), and of everything else. You have numbered our days, bottle our tears, and carry our burdens. Hallelujah! Nothing compares to the excellency of knowing you (Phil.3:8), and being known by you (Gal.4:9), King Jesus. So Very Amen

Heavenly Father, some decisions we make are 100% personal preference, others merely require sanctified common sense. But then there are the life-choices in front of us that tie us in knots, rob us of sleep, and fuel our fears. Thank you for your promise to “determine our steps” (Prov. 16:9). This doesn’t make us fatalistic robots, but your beloved children.

Indeed, life isn’t primarily about making the right decisions, but trusting the right God, and that is you. Seeking to honor you in our decision-making and giving you whole-heart trust—these must take precedent over the lure of newness, change, and relief from boredom. Help us, Abba.

You promise “straight paths”—not warm hot tubs, stationary bicycles, or permanent dwelling places. Paths remind us of our journey towards life in the new heaven and new earth, and our glorious destination of becoming fully like Jesus. Free us to make every decision in light of these two grand realities—heaven and Jesus-like-ness. And remind us that “straight paths” aren’t always rock-free, smooth asphalt, under blue skies, or just the shortest distance between A and B.

Indeed, the best decisions won’t necessarily be pain free, but they will never be Jesus, grace, and growth absent. Abba, help us seek your Son more than we seek to make people happy, make ourselves comfortable, or make believe the grass is greener “over there.” Keep us in the Gospel-lane, as you take us further down the promised pathway Home. So Very Amen.

“I know the plans I want from you, Lord” says Me. “It’s a story of minimal pain, predictable outcomes, and ample creature comforts. It’s a life in which I’m surrounded by flexible, fun people—nobody angry, “needy,” or “whine-full.”  Then, Jesus, at a ripe age I want to go to sleep one night and wake up in heaven.” 1st Self 3:16

Lord Jesus, my “wish list” and your perfect plans often look quite different from each other. But you are our Master, not our masseuse—our King, not our concierge. Your plans for us (and our loved ones) are good even when they’re not easy. Wherever your will takes us, your grace will sustain us and your heart will surprise us. Our future is pregnant with everything perfect, and we are presently secure in your heart and hand. Hallelujah, and thank you.

Jesus—by your Word, Spirit, and circumstances of your choosing, you’re presently making us like yourself and working in all things for our good. Continue to free us from under-believing the Gospel and over-believing our fears. Though it will take glorification to make us completely like yourself, we sincerely want to become more and more like you before that Day.

Jesus, free us to see more of your beauty, experience more of your peace, and live our RD’s (remaining days) by the hope of the Gospel. Increase our joy in giving and our delight in trusting. Indeed, grant us grace to trust your heart when we don’t understand your hand. Thank you for making all things new, including us. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father,  slow… us… down. This passage is both an invitation and a rebuke. You want us to know you. You want us to marinate and marvel at your truth, goodness, and beauty. You long for us to taste, see, hear, touch who you are, and what you are saying—not just in your Word, but also in creation. Hallelujah, and thank you. May we repent of hurry as a way of life, always getting ready but not getting “there.” You are the “there” for which we have been made, Abba.

The pouring forth of your nature-speak is endless, wondrous, and sumptuous—a visual kaleidoscope, an auditory megaphone, an aromatic smorgasbord of delights. How can anyone with any degree of sensual awareness ponder creation and not worship you—the Creator of all things?

Father, thank you for the sonic-symphony of waves, crashing on the shorelines of the world, the song of the loon, and the giggle of a toddler. Bless you for the all the Alps—with their knee-buckling wonder and heavens-reaching majesty. You hand paint every Brook, Brown, and Rainbow trout in the world. You gave melody to The Beatles, symphony to Beethoven, and harmony to the Beach Boys. Personally, I worship you this week for Lake of the Woods, Minnesota, shoreline lunches, the sweetness of Walleye, and guys sharing hearts, stories, and life on mission.

In every sunrise and sunset, you say to us… I love you. I am pursing you. I did this for you, and it’s just a foretaste of the life you will enjoy forever in the new heaven and new earth. I gave Jesus to you, and for you. Your need is that great and my heart, grace, and joy are that big.

Abba, thank you. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, this Scripture reminds me of a line from a favorite hymn. “Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love. Take my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.” If you’re not directing our heart, it too easily drifts in faithless, graceless, aimless, hope-void directions.

Some days we wake up with our hearts running to self-pity—when disappointments in life loom larger than your delight in us. Other days we seem GPS-programmed for the piranha-filled pool of people’s approval. Caring more about who we are in people’s eyes than who we are in Christ always ends poorly.

Some afternoons we lace up our running shoes for a quick jog to a poison-snake inhabited trail of resentment, anger, and blame—where we rehearse the failures of others more than the riches of your grace. On other unguarded-heart-days, we take little side trips into the village of comparison, envy, and discontent. Or we allow the mirage of “what if’s” and “if only’s” to rob us of joy and contentment. All of this is worse than the imagery and metaphors.

So Father, on this June Wednesday, please answer the apostle Paul’s prayer on our behalf. Drive and direct our hearts into your lavish, liberating, life-giving love. And take us deeper into Christ’s perseverance—his finished work for us and ongoing work in us. We’ll gladly be like one of those automatic driving cars. Take the wheel, set the course, and get us to your destination of choice. By the power of your sovereign Spirit, redirect our hearts into every good thing we have in Jesus. Sabotage our every attempt to go anywhere else. So Very Amen we pray, in Jesus’ merciful and mighty name.

Heavenly Father, I’ve never taken the time to let this image sink in… settle into my heart… and take over. Why would we ever look for rest anywhere else? Why is it so difficult to believe you are this involved in our lives and struggles?

Because of Jesus’ finished work for us, I don’t doubt that I belong to you—for Jesus bore our sin and robed us in his righteousness. But day in and day out… hour to hour… normal busyness to frantic drivenness, mild “hiccup” to major crisis, it’s easy to take you for granted—to think less of you than you deserve, and less often than is good for our hearts. But this Scripture is grabbing my attention this morning like an artesian spring of grace breaking through the dry ground of my thirst.

What an image… “resting between your shoulders”—there’s two ways this is stunning, timely, and freeing to me, Abba. Sometimes I just need to be carried on your back—resting between your shoulders, not as a burden, but as your child. Thank you for not despising our weakness and weariness. You say to each of your daughters and sons: “Even to your old age I am he, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save” (Isa.46:4). This is so heartening in a disheartening world.

But, hallelujah, we’re always resting between your shoulders as we rest upon your heart for us in the Gospel, Abba. You hold us, and you will hold us fast. You will never push us away. You will never cross your arms in disgust. You will never use your hands to harm us. We only and forever are welcome in your embrace. Abba, this isn’t sentimental, it’s sensational not a metaphor but the greatest mercy we will ever know. Thank you, Abba. So Very Amen.

  “I promised you to one husband, to Christ… but I’m afraid that just as Eve was deceived by the serpent’s cunning, your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ.” 2 Cor.11:2–3

Lord Jesus, two things are undeniably clear in this passage. The first thing, we belong to you… Hallelujah! You redeemed us, and delight in us as your cherished Bride. If this doesn’t enthrall us, we don’t have wet firewood, we have cold hearts.

The second thing, Satan hates the “first thing.” He’ll do anything to diminish, divert, and destroy our relationship in you. He abhors your love for us, and fears our love for you.

Whether through condemnation or persecution, seduction or suffering, making us busy or paralyzing us with fear, his strategy is the same—to steal our hearts away from you. The devil doesn’t care if we admire or appreciate you, as long as you’re not our greatest treasure and deepest delight.

Dear Jesus, wake us from our slumber, lethargy, and way too long naps. Refuel, refire, renew our passion for you. Make your love for us the most compelling and consuming reality in our lives, Jesus. Restore to us the love we had for you as new believers. We were so free and joyful, so at peace and so preoccupied with you. Nothing else really mattered. We want that again.

Thank you for clothing us in the wedding-garment of your righteousness and for loving us as much as you ever will. Thank you for soon returning for us with more joy than we can possibly imagine. Hallelujah and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, help us, free us. We’re still tempted to think the profuse display of affection in this story is hyperbole, metaphor, or poetry. Or it’s reserved for people like Corrie ten Boom, Joni Earekson Tada, and martyrs. But in the story, your love isn’t lavished on martyrs, but messes like us. A son wasted away with partying, and a son eaten up with self-righteousness. Thank you, 1000 times over.

You see us with perfect vision and eyes of grace. You run (not mosey) to us in the Gospel—no matter our location or condition. Our repentance doesn’t earn such love; it simply puts us in the way of it. Abba, your love is our only hope and perpetual welcome. And you don’t pat us on the shoulders or give us an awkward side hug; you throw your arms around us and you “kiss us.” How? By greatly delighting in us, quieting us with your love, and rejoicing over us with singing (Zeph. 3:17)—your descriptor, not our wishful thinking. Thank you, Abba.

One Day we’ll realize this story was just a hint and whisper of the greatness of your love for us in Jesus. Help us believe and savor it now, come alive and grow healthier. Even today, free us to extend your love to fellow messes like ourselves—to our parents, siblings, and kids who love us imperfectly; to a world that has no clue what you are really like; and to our enemies, people that irritate us, and those who’ve hurt us. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, thank you for being the Father we long for, always wanted, and desperately need. We call tomorrow “Father’s Day,” but in the Gospel, every day is Father’s Day. Here’s seven of multiple reasons we’re grateful this is true. If I could do back-flips, I’d do 7—one for each of these.

• Thank you for adopting us—not metaphorically, but for real and forever. We’re your beloved children, Jesus is our perfect righteousness, and your sovereignty is our peace-fueling sanity.
• Thank you for giving us the “Spirit of sonship” (Rom.8:15-16). The Holy Spirit is our permanent heart-guest, and he’s constantly exalting Jesus and telling us how much you love us.
• Thank you for being “the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort” (2 Cor.1:3). There’s not a scintilla (tiniest speck) of contempt in you. And you’re never ashamed of us or too busy for us.
• Thank you for promising to finish the work you began in us, Abba (Phil.1:6). Our relationship with you is all by grace, and all for your glory. On that soon coming Day, we will be totally like Jesus. Hallelujah!
• Thank you that we’ll never experience separation or diminishing of your love. It’s stunning, counterintuitive, and true: You love us just as much as you love Jesus … all the time.
• Thank you for grace to forgive and celebrate our earthly fathers. There’s reasons for both, but no dad could ever “parent us” the way only you can, Abba.
• Thank you for the spiritual fathers you’ve given us—our Gospel-Dads and grace-Papa’s. They are your heart and hand, and bring us joy and healing. So Very

Lord Jesus, there are many things in life over which we have zero control. Like weather fronts, whether we’ll ever catch a Muskie, our adult children’s choices, our aging brain’s memory, the next World Cup winner, the date of your return. But your half-brother, Jude, gave us four things we can control—anytime, everywhere, all the way Home:

1. Building ourselves up in the faith: How, Jesus? There’s many ways, some of the “biggies” include hiding your Word in our hearts, preaching the Gospel to our hearts every day, walking with a few friends with whom we can groan and grow in grace—a “Gospel Posse.”
2. Praying in the Holy Spirit: Not just “saying our prayers”—but adoring you, Jesus—meditating on your beauty, goodness, and truth. Fellowshipping with our Father so often, we learn to delight in all of his answers to our prayers—”Yes,” “No,” “Heck no,” “Not Yet,” “Yes, but not as you thought.”
3. Keeping ourselves in your love: Not earning more of your love, but swimming in its depths, marinating in its riches, pondering its hope. We will be preoccupied with something—our fears, what if’s, if only’s, hurts, etc. You call us to make your multidimensional love (Eph.3:19-20) our preoccupation, home address, and oxygen.
4. Waiting for the mercy of your return: Not waiting for our kids/spouse to adore us, our “barns” to be full enough, or for any human being to be our personal, tribal, or national savior. But waiting for the Day of your return, Jesus—the most mercy-pregnant, grace-laden, hope-overflowing Day in the remainder of history. So Very Amen.

When our fellowship with you gets stressed, challenged, or displaced—we too can think, speak, and act like spiritual orphans. We forget you are our loving, sovereign, merciful Father. We grow anxious and critical, whine more than we worship, and complain quicker and stress longer. We become a “cold mess”—spiritually chilly, radioactive with a bad attitude, in need of restorative grace.

Then, by your Spirit’s convicting work, we start our way back to Gospel-sanity. “Yet I still belong to you, Abba. You hold my right hand. You’re guiding me with your counsel, in route to a glorious destiny” (Ps.73:23-24). Thank you for reminding us of who you are and what we have in Jesus. You hold us with a grip of grace, are shepherding us, and will take us all the way Home. Hallelujah!

What does Gospel-sanity look like, Abba? Again, Asaph helps us: “What makes heaven heavenly? You, Abba. I desire you more than anything on earth. My health may fail and my spirit may grow weak; but you are my hear-strength, portion, and treasure. You are mine and I am yours” (Ps.73:25-26). Father, you are all we want and more than we need. You never guaranteed us perfect health or easy circumstances; but you have given us yourself, the righteousness of Jesus, and a perfect future. That’s all we need. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, since our words give evidence to whatever is filling our hearts, please fill as our hearts as full as possible with these three things. 1. Astonishment at your unwavering love for us. 2. Humility and gratitude generated by your daily mercies, grace riches, and constant kindness. 3. A core of peace fueled by the assurance of your sovereignty and work in all things for our good. We’d love mega-fullness, Jesus.

If these three realities filled our hearts the overflow would be exactly what you promise in our Scriptures of the day. Our words would sustain the weary, heal the hurting, and disarm the angry. Indeed, “a gentle tongue can break a bone” (Prov. 25:15), for gentleness is 1000 times more powerful than harshness.

It was your irrepressible kindness that first led us to repentance, and continues to do so. Our reactionary snarkiness and irritated judgmentalism are never helpful. They never gives us what we want. So, Jesus, do for us and in us what we cannot do apart from you (John 15:5). We don’t need tongue-control, but heart-fullness.

Fill us with your Holy Spirit afresh. Fill us with a renewed-knowing of who we are in you, Jesus. Fill us with a fresh sighting of you sitting comfortably and joyfully atop the throne of grace—the throne with authority over every personal crisis, family challenge, international mess, and cosmic-disturbance. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, what a contrast is presented in these two passages—opinions being expressed in devouring, and faith being expressed in love. Your beloved Bride are capable of both. As I meditate and pray this morning, there are over 22,000 different denominations in the world—not forms of currency, but networks of churches, each confessing allegiance to you. But denominations aren’t the culprit. For cherishing and consuming one another happen wherever “two or more” of your followers are gathered—including in marriage.

Theological, cultural, and personal differences will remain until we are glorified. Only then will we no longer “know in part” (1Cor.13:9-10). But our “loving in part” has become too tolerated, normalized, and justified. Conflicts are inevitable, but “redemptive conflicting” is not inevitable. It’s a choice, requiring the riches of grace and the power of your Spirit. Forgive us and free us, Jesus.

You pray for our unity—not our uniformity (Jn.17:10-11). And you have already given us union with yourself (Col.3:3; 1Cor.6:17), and “the unity of the Spirit” (Eph.4:3). It’s why we eagerly groan for the Day when it will be impossible for us to sin again—in thought, word, or deed. We will see you as you are and we will be made like you (1Jn.3:1-3)—your entire every-nation, every-generation Bride.

Never again will we “diss,” dishonor, demean, or distrust one another. Never again will we experience “us-versus-them-ness.” Never again will we weaponize our differences to empower ourselves. Never again will we “bite and devour” those you love and cherish. Hasten the Day, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, all week, each day, every hour there’s going to be a lot of competition for our heart’s preoccupation. We will be wooed, wowed, threatened, seduced, busied, distracted … all with the intent of something or someone replacing you as our heart-treasure and allegiance-claimer.

It could be as simple as letting our job define, delight, and/or demean us. The success and love of our children often make unjustified “lordship” claims over our hearts as well. Being concerned for them is one thing; being obsessed with them is idolatrous.

Other heart-suitors include romance fantasies, or the lust for revenge. Then there’s the lure of winning in politics, pickleball, or popularity within our “tribe.” The allure of money-and-more-money is always lurking, and of course who can resist the promises of a wrinkle-free face, a hassle-free life, and a fear-free existence? And the list goes on.

So, Lord Jesus, with palms up—in praise and surrender, we gladly say “Yes!” to you afresh as our heart-sovereign, and to your peace as our heart-ruler.  Only you are worthy, Jesus, and only you are trustworthy. Through your finished work, we now have peace with our heavenly Father. Alienation has been replaced with reconciliation, distance with intimacy, judgment with affection. Abba isn’t just “okay” with us, he delights in us.

And, hallelujah, he has given us to you, Jesus. Your desire is for us and your banner over us is love. You rejoice in us as a bridegroom with his young wife, because you have made us your Bride. That’s no mere metaphor; it’s more real and needed than our next breath. We praise, bless, and adore you, Jesus. So Very Amen.

“God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus” 2Cor.7:6)

“Greet Priscilla and Aquila… they risked their lives for me” (Rom.16:3-4).

“Greet Rufus, chosen in the Lord, and his mom who has been a mom to me, too” (Rom.16:13)

“Onesiphorus often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chains” (2Tim.1:16)

Heavenly Father, these many verses, names, and intentional “thank-yous” have gotten my attention. Thank you for the many people you place in our lives—our surrogate moms and dads, grace-channels and mercy-fountains, the timely refreshers and empathic comforters… our Gospel-posse and human-parties.

Indeed, thank you for the sisters and brothers whose listening gives us more answers than words ever could. Most of them have never held a microphone, but they speak deep to our hearts. They may be low in their company’s “org chart,” but they top the grace-chart. Do they have a clue how much we treasure them? Father, we don’t want to grieve their absence more than we celebrate their presence. What thank-yous, words of affection, and acknowledgements of appreciation should we speak before heaven?

Abba, free me and my friends from putting off loving well, building up, and blessing freely. Though there are some goodbyes we’re sad we didn’t get to say, there are many “you-are-dear-to-me’s” that can still be given. Show us, free us, send us. So Very Amen.

Loving Jesus, of all cravings, thirst is the most insistent, impatient, and impolite. When we get thirsty, we’re quick to slake its demand, one way or another. Because this is true, we join the Psalmist in crying out, “Jesus, intensify our thirst for yourself. Renew our panting for the water only you can give—living water.”

Like newlyweds, reignite the passion we once had for you, Jesus—the delight we felt when we could not stop saying, “I am my beloved’s and his desire is in me” (Song of Songs 7:10). You remember those days, and long for them again, saying to us… “I remember the devotion of your youth, how as a bride you loved me” (Jer.2:2). But “you have abandoned the love you had at first (Rev.2:4). Remember and return.

Simultaneously, those words hurt us, stun us, and woo us, Jesus. That you thirst for our love—are jealous for our affection, preoccupation, and delight … there’s no greater compliment you could give us, Jesus. For you lack nothing, but desire our whole hearts.

Why do you crave us, Jesus? Because you actually delight in us and rejoice over us as our true and eternal Spouse (Isa.62:5). Thank you… we believe you, but help us in our unbelief. Help our under-believing the Gospel. Help our “we-use-to-believe” you, but aren’t sure anymore. Or if we have never really believed you love us as you say you do, Jesus, may Summer 2024 be the most important season of lives. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, it’s always a good day to remember those you’ve placed in our lives as grace-parents in our journey and kindness-fountains in our vulnerability. Indeed, thank you Abba for mentors in life, rescuers in our wandering, refreshers in our deserts. They came (and come) to us in many “packages,” contexts,  and at strategic times. Remind us of their faces, names, and blessing in our lives. Remind us of just how rich, loved, and blessed we are.

Parents and surrogate parents… Sunday School teachers and Young Life leaders… Kind bosses and beautiful janitors… Neighbors up the street and angels from above… Tenacious roommates and coaches who loved us… Authors we’ll meet in heaven and hymnwriters who open our hearts.

Grandmothers who prayed and wept for us, and grandchildren who reveal your grace and joy to us… Old worn-out cassette tapes and Bibles with faded ink-notes… Friends who showed up and will not give up… Fishing buddies who care about hearts more than fish… And your kind-eyed children, Abba, whose laughter and listening are a kiss and feast for us.

Thank you heavenly Father for being exactly that to us. Thank you for seeking and saving us. Thank you for those you’ve sent, send, and continue to use in our lives. Thank you for Jesus. Thank you for the Holy Spirit. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, as I read these verses, the image of a power cord came to mind—one end of the cord is plugged into me, and the other needs to be plugged into a power source—perhaps a nuclear-grace power plant. Because the call to love others as you love us is WAY beyond our instinct, motivation, desire, and resources.

Jesus, you have taught us that your life for us is where our salvation comes from. It’s you + nothing, Jesus. You are our substitute to trust for 100% of our righteousness… “Whew!’ And you also taught us that it’s your life in us that is our hope of glory. Not metaphorically, but actually, you live in us by the Holy Spirit—and you’re not leaving us. Instead, you will take us to heaven with you at the perfectly timed moment. Hallelujah, and thank you.

So this leads us to one more glorious preposition, Jesus—through. In a profound, mystical, actual way, we can say with the Apostle Paul, “I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.” Jesus, you are our life (Phil.1:21), and the life you lived for us you now live in us. So live and love through us, Jesus.

We’re tired of making excuses for why we don’t love well. We’re weary of qualifying, minimizing, and excusing ourselves from the demands of love. So Jesus, love through us. Don’t just empower us to love, love through us—actually, supernaturally, wondrously.

It’s not that we’re “a glove and you’re the hand.” It’s that we share a union with you that is real, not theoretical or metaphorical. Love through us Jesus, this very day. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, thank you for inspiring Paul to write a “grace-diary” for us—his account of getting to know you better and treasure your grace more fully. As Paul got older, we don’t see him growing in self-deprecation, but in Gospel-celebration. He didn’t backslide into sin; he “front-slid” into more grace—for grace always flows downhill.

This is both freeing and humbling. It’s freeing because we typically assume the better we know you the less we’ll need to repent. Actually, we won’t repent less; we’ll repent quicker. Because the better we know you, the more we will discover the contrast between your beauty and our brokenness. That’s the humbling part.

Our peace and joy come from knowing we aren’t saved to the degree we are like you Jesus, but in you. It’s our union with you that saves us—and we shout “Hallelujah!” that this is the Gospel. Our lives are hidden in you 100%.  But it’s your Spirit’s work in us to actually make us more like you, Jesus—which is our calling, destiny, and delight (Rom.8:29; 1Jn.3:2; 2Cor.3:18).

So Jesus, show each of us the ways we hide and contradict your truth, goodness, and beauty. We want our thoughts, words, and deeds to honor you, Jesus. No condemnation is left for our sin, but tons of grace are given for our Christlikeness, Jesus-revealing, and loving others as you love us. Thank you Jesus. Free us to be chief-repenters, grace-needers, and Gospel-celebrators—where we live, work, and play. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, life is filled with choices. Some decisions are as simple as standing in the cereal aisle of Publix and going with the buy-one-get-one-free option. The choice to eat moist carrot-cake is a no-brainer too. Some decisions just require sanctified common sense: “Should I change the oil in my car once in a while?”

But other decisions rob us (and others) of sleep, give us heart knots, and fuel our second guessing. Our Scriptures of the day remind us our choices aren’t sovereign and ultimate, only you are. Make this truth clear, sweet, and freeing to us, Jesus. As our good Shepherd, you aren’t pulling for us from afar, but are guiding us up close. We rest in your step-determining, door-operating sovereignty.

Jesus, we know you always lead us in keeping with your Word. We know you call us to seek the counsel of those who love you and love us. We know you lead us by the peace-giving voice of your Spirit. We know you lead us by the providence of circumstances over which you are Lord. If these (Word, counsel, Spirit, providence) are 4 harbor lights, line up the harbor lights as we navigate changes and big decisions in front of us.

We know we can’t make people happy or holy, so help us with the feedback we get—that which we seek and unsolicited opinions freely offered. And Jesus, help us—the feedback-givers, to be self-aware, kind, and patient.

In our time-framed decisions, what will honor you the most, Jesus? What choice is most in keeping with the truth and rhythms of the Gospel? Are we running from something for which you haven’t given us running shoes yet? Are we seeking, seeing proverbial “greener pastures” that, like all pastures, turn brown in time? May your peace rule in our hearts, as we discern and decide.

Hallelujah, our lives aren’t tied to making the one, right, perfect decision… but in trusting the only, right, loving Lord—and that is you, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, first of all, thank you for a new week—a week you have made, over which you rule, in which you will be at work in our hearts and every place in the cosmos. If we were to make a list of reasons for why we have more hope than heaviness, more encouragement than the “blues,” and more peace than anxiety, your great love for us would be #1, #2, and #3.

Your love is the resolution to relentless ache in our souls for connection and intimacy. Your love gives the redemption for the deepest sadness and most shameful parts of our stories. Only your love is better than life, Jesus.

We want what Paul celebrated in this passage. “Christ’s love controls us”—Paul wasn’t merely “warmed,” inspired, encouraged by your love. He was taken in and taken over. So much so, some people thought he was “crazy”—perhaps because of his freedom to suffer with joy, live so generously, and forgive so quickly. Do the same for us and in us, Jesus. This kind of “crazy” is actually Gospel-sanity.

What would that look like? Your truth would define us more than people’s approval, the devil’s lies, and our culture’s agenda. Your goodness would be our feast and freedom—the most satisfying reality in our lives. Your beauty would take our breath away, then give it back so we can live and love to your glory. All of this looks so inviting, Jesus—even if it’s a bit overwhelming. But do every bit of it, all summer long. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, I wish my Apple “Find My” app would work on everything. I could push one button and instantly locate stuff, and shorten my frustration period and occasional fear of senility. But as I meditate on today’s Scripture (2 Cor.4:16-18), I notice “losing heart” is more of gaze issue than a memory issue.  I can have tired brain cells and yet grow a bigger, peace-filled, hope-smitten Gospel-heart. That’s what I want, Jesus. That’s what I want all the way Home.

Whatever we intentionally gaze upon and ponder—whatever seizes our attention, captures our curiosity, fills our imagination, shapes our dreams, and enflames our hearts… these things impact us more than anything else. Data recall is one thing, heart-doxology is another.

Jesus, free me and my friends to be more like the aging apostle Paul, whose “light and momentary troubles” (2 Cor. 11:21-33) didn’t depress him, but delighted him about what is to come. In all his aging, suffering, and “outward wasting,” steady inward daily renewing never stopped. Though his physical eyesight grew dimmer, you and out eternal inheritance grew 1000 times more clear and dear. Hallelujah!

Jesus, help me and my friends spend less time worrying about memory loss and more energy in gaze-fixing. Open the eyes of our hearts, Jesus, and show us more and more of your truth, goodness, and beauty. So Very Amen.

“One thing have I desired of the LORD… to gaze on his beauty” (Ps. 27:4).

“One thing is necessary, and Mary chose it… communing with me” (Luke 10:42).

“One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!” (Jn.9:25).

Lord Jesus, the older we get, the less heart-space we have, and the greater the need for wise choices. Options will continue to multiply like spring allergies, summer zucchini, and new taxes. The Gospel helps us discern the difference between the okay, better, and best. We are free, but we want to use our freedom wisely, (Gal.5:13). Help us.

Like the blind man you healed (Jn.9:25)—there’s a lot we don’t know, but there is one thing we know to be true, and it should define us more than anything else—that we belong to you. You didn’t just heal our spiritual blindness, you gave us eternal “belongingness” and belovedness. Hallelujah, and thank you.

Jesus we don’t want to spend the rest of our days throwing darts at possibilities when we know you to be the point of everything. Like Paul living heavenward (Phil.3:13), David gazing on your beauty (Ps.27:4), and Mary communing with you (Lk.10:42)—we want to live with you as our “one thing.”

   We want to know, love, and serve you with all our hearts and remaining days. “Grass withers, flowers fall,” favorite trees get storm-broken; but you and your word are forever. May our schedules, choices, and attitudes demonstrate that your desire is for us (Song of Songs 7:10), and our delight is in you (Ps.37:4) So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, I don’t know of one verse in your entire Word that’s more loved, misapplied, and disused than Romans 8:28. I choose those three categories because I have “personal experience” of each.

As a young believer, I thought (hoped, fantasized, crossed-my-fingers) that Rom. 8:28 taught if I love you enough, a steady stream of “goodness” would flow into my life. “Good” as in minimal pain, maximum delight, and magnificent outcomes. But Rom. 8:28 promises something much better than personal peace and affluence.

It declares you are at work in everything to make us like Jesus. Christlikeness, not “life-in-a-5-star-spa,” is the promised outcome. When we’re honest, becoming like Jesus isn’t usually the first thing we pray for each day or “claim” in Rom. 8:28. We’d prefer you to be a masseuse, valet, or 3-wish-giver—not a Potter at work to make us more and more like Jesus. So we can misuse this verse on ourselves.

We can, indeed, also misuse Rom. 8:28 on others. We do that when we use it to “silence their whining,” or when we don’t want to enter their pain, or when we apply it like a shot of Novocain or a dose of laughing gas. But deadening pain isn’t dealing with pain.

So, Abba, how do we also disuse—that is, ignore Rom. 8:28? Personally, I do so when, like Esau, I demand instant gratification over your timing and your ways (Gen.25:34). Or when, like Adam, when I blame others (Gen.3:10-12); or like Jonah, when I sulk in a corner (Jon.4:6-11); or like Noah, when I medicate poorly (Gen.9:20-21). You are so present, patient, and kind with me, Abba.

But blessed, loving, holy, and gracious Father, I do love Rom. 8:28, because you really do love me. I really do want to become more like Jesus. I do trust you. So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, the quest for heart-peace is unrelenting—especially during seasons of vulnerability, transition, disconnect, and disappointment. This is why David’s question deserves our pondering. “What can mere people do to me?” Well, it depends on what math we’re using, right? What currency, bullion, or treasure are we living by? Whose opinion of us matters more than any other?

If we’ve given peers, boss, a lover—our parents, kids, or spouse the power to define us, delight us, or demean us, then “mere people” can greatly harm us. And if we keep that “right” to ourselves, we can do great damage to ourselves as well.

But Jesus—blessed Lord and Savior, if you are our life, then death itself is actually a gain (Phil.1:21). And “mere people” can embarrass us, temporally hurt us—in multiple ways disappoint us, frustrate the heck out of us, and sadden us. But they cannot ultimately harm us because they do not foundationally define us. That holy prerogative, power, and right only belongs to you Jesus.

Truly, you are our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption,” Jesus—our reason for being, greatest delight, and fullness of hope. Keep freeing us from our “people-idolatry.” Mere people make horrible substitutes for you, Jesus. Restore to us the joy of our salvation, the peace only the Gospel gives, and the freedom only you can give. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, these Scriptures aren’t merely “nice verses”; they are essential disciplines to practice. Pistachio gelato is “nice,” just like dark chocolate and grilled salmon. But what we do with our thought lives impacts our emotions and perceptions, values and choices, fears and joys—really, everything.

This isn’t mind over matter; it’s the Gospel over everything. It’s not “the power of positive thinking”; it’s choosing to have you, Jesus—your truth, goodness, and beauty—as our foundation and freedom, our preoccupation and praise—the narration of our lives and the adoration of our hearts.

The more we see of you, Jesus, the better we’ll look at everything else by you. For every joy and delight we experience in life finds its meaning and source in you. And every heartache, fear, and trauma finds its resolution by you. You are that loving, that powerful, and that generous with us. Thank you, Lord.

Jesus, may your kingship and reign—not the madness and meanness of human politics and the devil’s schemes, rule in our hearts… be rocket fuel for our hope… ignite our joy…  increase our neighbor love… sabotage our anxieties… deepen our peace… and ignite our longings for your return.

This isn’t denial, it’s delight. It’s not “playing ostrich”—it’s not playing at all; it’s honoring you as the King of kings and Lord of lords. With palms up, eyes fixed, and hearts engaged, we enter our day with you, Jesus.  So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, I’m not in a faraway country—derelict, destitute, and delusional about finding life apart from you. Neither am I an angry, jaded, mean-spirited legalist—who finds pleasure in judging others. Yet, at times, I feel like a hybrid of your two sons whose stories are given to us in Luke 15.

Sometimes my heart can drift to a place of temporary insanity—fantasizing about finding life in mere humans, fulfilling fleshly pleasures, and living with zero regard for your Word and ways. Then, in the same day, I can give in to my inner-Pharisee, and judge everything and everyone, even people that are already dead. I can even criticize you, when you don’t give me what I want or think I deserve. I. Am. A. Mess. But, hallelujah, I am your mess.

So, Father, as I come to you today—with many who join me in this prayer, we take great comfort in knowing that we’ll always find you filled with compassion for us—no matter the state of our heart. As with all your children, you greet us in the Gospel, throw your arms around us, hold tight and shower us with multiple kisses of mercy and grace.

Why? How? Because you don’t love us to the degree we are like Jesus, but in Jesus—which is 100%. You don’t make light of our current sin, but that you do make much of Jesus as our righteousness, holiness, and redemption. Such kindness makes it easy for us to repent, and makes our call to holiness beautiful, and makes the Gospel so necessary and so glorious. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, not as disengaged pacifists, but as fully engaged worshipers—not as orphans on our own, but as your children in union with Jesus, you call us to trust you with and in our “battles.” Hallelujah, and thank you, Abba.

We’re never more than David facing Goliath, Zerubbabel facing a “mountain” of opposition, Gideon and his friends taking on the Midianite army with trumpets and torches (Judges 7). But with you, we won’t be afraid. We’ll hurl our pebbles of faith and shout, “Grace, grace” at the “Goliaths,” faith-saboteurs, and peace-piranha the devil sends our way. Faith and hope are the order of the day, not fear and retreat.

When we’re under attack, let us see Jesus—the author and finisher of our faith. For Jesus is our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1Cor.1:30-31). His tomb is empty and his throne is occupied (Rev.4); his prayers are non-stop and demons tremble at his presence. Hallelujah, and “Grace, grace, grace upon grace!” (Jn.1:16)

When evil target’s our family, our conscience, our workplace, our church, our “Gospel-posse” … bring us back to the sanity of your sovereignty, faith expressing itself in love, and hope filling up every crevice in our hearts. We are so grateful and we are so yours, Abba. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, no matter our passport, flag, or time zone, all of us crave the Day when Isaiah’s vision, (your promise), will be fulfilled. It’s hard to imagine that our forever includes nothing hurting or destroying anywhere in the new heaven and new earth. Hallelujah… “for as the waters fill the sea, so the earth will be filled with your glory and people who know the LORD” (Isa. 11:9).

In the USA, Memorial Day is a day we honor those who died to defend our country’s peace. Other countries, appropriately, have their own version of this day of memory and gratitude. But above all, we thank you for paying the full price to end all sin and death, and usher in your shalom and beauty everywhere.

You are Prince of Peace because you came as Lamb of God. We live in anticipation of the Day when all swords, tanks, and nuclear weapons will become tillers, tractors, and trellises of life-giving fruit. Nations won’t invade and exploit each other. We will celebrate and serve one another as your every-nation Bride.

Our “forever-curriculum” won’t be war-learning but love-learning. All malevolence, meanness, and madness will be forever gone. Not one scintilla of selfishness will survive your coming, Jesus. Every anti-grace thought, word, and deed will be replaced with the fullness of your truth, goodness, and beauty.

Please come soon, Lord Jesus. Until you do, fill our lives with bold kindness and compassionate courage. Renew our love for you, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Indeed, we are your “called, loved, and kept for Jesus” people (Jude 1:1). Our past, present, and future are claimed and redeemed by you. The saints in heaven are more joyful, but not more secure than we are.

We want to honor you, Father, but we are weak. What resources will you give us? “Mercy, peace, and love be yours in abundance” (Jude 1:2). Hallelujah, you will super-supply us with everything we need. Thank you.

How can we honor you in our relationships, Father? “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, and forgiving of one another” (Eph. 4:32). It’s only because you relate to us like this that we have hope for ourselves.

Practically speaking, what will loving well look like?  “Be quick to listen, and slow to speak, and slow to anger” (James 1:19). Help us, Father. It’s a good thing you give us grace upon grace.

Until Jesus, returns, what do you want us to remember? “Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love” (1 Cor.13:8). You give us each of these in the Gospel, Abba, supersize all three as you show us more of Jesus.

We go forth into our day, weekend, and life with your abiding benediction: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with you all.” (2 Cor.13:14). Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, I wish “gentleness and humility” could be learned in a weekend online crash-course. Or that they were gifts of the Spirit to be received through prayer and fasting. Better, I wish they could have been included in my family’s bloodline, my Enneagram number, or Abba-given temperament.

But becoming like you, Jesus, involves walking and communing with you, and learning from you—a “school” from which we’ll only graduate when you return. However, there’s no “diploma,” apprenticeship, internship, or graduation of greater value and eternal significance than becoming like you Jesus. In what arenas of life do I crave greater humility and gentleness?

• Gentle me in my primary and most precious relationships—in my marriage, parenting, grand-parenting, and dearest friendships. To get irritated is to be human; but to be self-aware enough to own it and repent is a work of your Spirit.
• Gentle me when things just don’t work out—when good plans end up in the trash can. Keep me flexible and trusting that Abba is “ordering my steps” even when I have different wishes and plans.
• Gentle me when I get fair and unfair criticism, and even general feedback. “To hate correction is stupid” (Prov.12:1), and defensiveness sabotages connection and intimacy as quickly as anything.
• Gentle me when I forget names and where I put stuff, and when the mirror and calendar are telling me I’m closer to heaven every day. That’s actually a good thing—a glorious reality which makes humility and gentleness quite attractive.

Jesus, thank you for your grace, gentleness, and sovereignty And thank you for friends who make growing older and growing in grace a shared journey, a mutual encouragement-fest, and a life of joyful hope. So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, over the past several months, I keep “bumping” into the wisdom of words my spiritual dad (Jack Miller) spoke decades ago: “A reputation is too heavy of a load for a child of God to carry. Jesus is your righteousness and that is all the reputation you need.”

Caring too much about what others think of us will crush us. Working to get into the “inner circle” will seduce, exhaust, then destroy us. Loving to be first, like Diotrephes, can get our name in the Bible, but as a warning, not a blessing. Jesus, have mercy on us, and free us.

I’m more grateful than ever for friends, leaders, and colleagues who love the Gospel, boast in their weakness, and live as chief-repenters. They “puff” themselves down, not up. They encourage others more than they work to be noticed. Platforms are for high-divers. Brands are for cereals. Trademarks are for inventions. But a towel and a basin (John 13) are for those who know, love, and follow you.

Jesus, if you choose to give us 10 more years, months, or weeks… fill them with yourself. Continue to astonish and nourish our hearts with your beauty, goodness, and truth. Everything else will take care of itself. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, many of us are carrying “tile-lifting-urgency” in our hearts for people we love. So we come boldly to your throne of grace right now, assured of your welcome and grateful for your care. Only you have the authority, power, and kindness to meet our every need—spirit, mind, and body.

So, first of all, we bring you ourselves, Jesus. You know our present and pressing needs. Feelings of helplessness and powerlessness overtake us when our friends and loved ones are in crisis. Give us your non-anxious Spirit, Jesus. May your peace rule in our hearts.

Perhaps, as we bring our loved ones to you, Jesus, it is actually their need that is bringing us to you. So we all come. Hear the cry of our hearts. We are so grateful to affirm that we are more “in Christ” than we are in crisis, Jesus. Thank you, Lord, and here we come…

Beloved Friends… you get to finish this prayer today. Here are some obvious categories of loved ones for whom we should always be praying, but don’t stop with these:

Mighty and Merciful Jesus, I “lift roof tiles” on behalf of my children. Capture and enrapture them with yourself. Show me how to love them in their need. Meet me in my own need too, Jesus.

For my closest friends, by name and need, I bring them to you. Physically, emotionally, spiritually… show me how to be your hand and heart to them, Jesus.

For my marriage, my workplace, my extended family… Jesus, I cry out to you for Gospel manna, a work of your Spirit, and wisdom to love as you love me.

(All day long, pray as the Spirit stirs your hearts, dear friends.) SO VERY AMEN

Lord Jesus, if to conflict is human, then to conflict redemptively is divine. It’s to “act in line with the truth of the Gospel.” Through the years, I’ve been conflict-avoidant, conflict-frozen, conflict-toddler-ish, and once-in-a-while, conflict-healthy—which I wish to be my forever-norm. Teach, show, empower us to steward our conflicts—to see them as opportunities to “act in line with the truth of the Gospel.”

Help us care more about your glory than our rightness—more about “faith expressing itself in love” than us expressing ourselves in fear and contempt. Help us receive feedback non-defensively and give it lovingly. Convict us quickly when we lose sight of the issue and redouble our intensity. You came to destroy enmity and walls of hostility, not make them okay. In our weakness your strength is perfected; but in our defensiveness our immaturity is made obvious. Help us Jesus. Replace our head-butting with heart-wising.

When our conflicts involve hard issues, gentle us and remind us we don’t have to become harsh. When our conflicts involve personal loss, insult, and pain, you don’t expect us to be passive—but you still call us to “put down the sword.” Calling down grace must become our first option, not calling down fire (Lk.9:54-55). To turn our cheeks is to turn our faces to you, not to enable fools or abusers (Matt.5:38-40).

Jesus, free us from our inability/unwillingness to sit in the tension of differing opinions, diverse perspectives, and triggering-personalities. Staying curious, listening well, and being humble don’t reflect the absence of a backbone, but the presence of your Spirit, grace, and kingdom. Help us, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, “doing the math” isn’t something I’m used to doing, because I came into the world allergic to math. But if you choose to give me the average lifespan on earth, I’ve lived 93% of a “normal” life expectancy—74.4 of 80 years. That’s not a “Debbie Downer,” but a “Scotty Gets ‘Better by Far’”, as Paul wrote in Philippians 1:23. To be absent from this body is to be present with you (2 Cor.5:8).

So if I don’t live to see an 80^th birthday, or if I’m here well beyond, “there is no downside for me leaving, not in the slightest” (Tim Keller’s last words a year ago yesterday). All of us will soon realize that whatever we think life beyond this one will be like, you are 10,000 times more beautiful than we can imagine, our “greatness-of-heaven-bar” is laughably low, and our hopes are embarrassingly petite. Indeed, “beyond all we can ask or imagine” (Eph.3:20) isn’t a metaphor, but a mercy.

So until we take our last ordained breath, what will “living in line with the truth of the Gospel” look like (Gal.2:14)? Jesus, make the values of heaven increasingly clear to us. Free us to replace our unquestioned busyness with the rhythms of the Gospel and the pace of grace.

Since “the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself in love” (Gal.5:6), a “to love list” must take precedent over any fantasy “bucket list.” Intensify our joyful engagement in the spread of the Gospel and the growth of your Kingdom, Jesus—for yours is the only unshakable and lasting kingdom. Shrink our fears, pettiness, and selfishness… as you show us more of yourself. So Very Amen.

“At just the right time, God sent his Son” (Gal.4:7).

“This is the plan: At the right time he will bring everything together under the authority of Christ—everything in heaven and on earth” (Eph.1:10).

“I trust in you, O Lord; I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in your hand” (Ps.31:14).

Lord Jesus, if the question is, “What time is it?”—that really depends on our time zone. Wherever we call home, from this point on and all the way Home, we want to live in the GTZ—the Gospel Time Zone. It’s the one time zone that transcends and permeates every other time zone. The GTZ honors you, Jesus, as creator, center, sustainer, and Redeemer of all things.

Calendar-wise, it means our primary frame of reference is living our lives between your resurrection and return, Jesus—the glorious already-and-not-yet of things planned in eternity and executed at just the right time on earth. Your Kingdom has come, Jesus, and it will come in fullness. You are actively making all things new and you will finish that magnificent redemptive plan. Hallelujah, and thank you.

Right now angels are rejoicing and demons are trembling. Before long, we will dance and every knee will bow. Until the Day everything is “summed up in you” (Eph.1:10)—show us how to live at the pace of grace with the values of eternity. Give us urgent joy and the freedom of intentionality. What should matter more to us, Jesus, and what should matter much less?

In the GTZ everything happens right on time, and since “our times are in your hand” (Ps.31:14), fill our days, dreams, and plans with yourself, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, thank you for the pottery images and great hope contained in these two verses. We’re grateful to be the carefully crafted “work of your hand”—those in whom you’ve placed the priceless treasure of the Gospel—Jesus himself.

Much of the time, however, we don’t really want to be clay in your loving hands. We want to own the pottery factory, be scriptwriters of our stories, CEO’s of our pain, other people, and every outcome.

How easily we forget (or ignore) you are working in all things for our good, making beauty from our ashes, and turning our mourning into dancing. Why do we doubt you? You gave Jesus for our salvation. Surely we can trust you for everything else we actually need (Rom. 8:32).

Today and every day, you call us to cease our striving, have done with our vexing, and forsake the illusion of our self-sufficiency. To “be still and know you are God” isn’t to lose control because we never had control to start with.

It’s to live in humility before you—the One who loves us more than anyone else. It’s to blush with gratitude for the riches of the Gospel you have lavished upon us. It’s to trust you, Abba—the one from whom all blessings flow, by whom all grace is given, and for whom all things exist. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, I don’t mind “repeat casting.” It’s what all of us who love fishing do—fly fishers, bait casters, spin fishers. Casting multiple times is often necessary to catch an elusive, easily spooked, gorgeous trout. Getting better at casting is what we work on all the time.

And the same is true for us as your beloved children. But we don’t learn repeat casting to get, but to give—not to fill our ice chest with fish, but to empty our hearts of things that weigh us down, even paralyze us. It’s impossible to live life before Jesus’ second coming and not have anxieties, worries, and cares. What we do with those things is a Gospel issue—an Abba issue, because you greatly care for us. Hallelujah and thank you. Some of us are weighed down with health anxieties, others with financial worries, others with relational cares—there are as many cares as there is brokenness in the world.

So, Abba, with all the grace you will give us, with our grips relaxed and arms cocked for casting, we cast on you the things over which we have zero control—old stuff, new stuff, future stuff. We may need to do so an hour from now, and several more times today, and in the coming days. We may even need some friends to help us cast some of our heavier cares; but of this we can be certain, “when the cares and anxieties of our hearts multiply, your consolations bring us joy (Ps. 94:19). That you care for us and love us is our greatest consolation imaginable, Abba. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, age and a lack of exercise don’t just atrophy muscle-mass, but also “gratitude-mass.” Indeed, thankfulness is a discipline of remembering before it’s a feeling of delight. Since I’d far rather finish this life “ripped” with thankfulness muscles than sporting “6-pack-abs,” here’s a few of the “benefits” I remember today. (Before you read or pray this next paragraph, know that all of this is true of you simply because you belong to Jesus).

Abba, thank you for an over-the-top glorious salvation in Jesus. You revealed the depth of my need, then lavished on me the riches of your grace. I’m hidden in Christ, standing in grace, and rooted in your love. I now live as an object of your affection and co-heir of your kingdom. Jesus prays for me, you delight in me, and the Spirit lives in me. Why would I (or any of us) ever whine, whimper, or worry?

With Jesus as my righteousness and death as great gain (Phil.1:21), you’ve given me the privilege of serving in your Story all the way Home. I love my family, and you love each of them more than I do. You’ve given me dear friends with whom to pray, play, and ponder the beauty of Jesus and the mystery of your ways. Fishing, repenting, encouraging, laughing, cooking, feasting, music and tears are all woven into the tapestry of your love for me (and us).

The things that hurt the most won’t always hurt this much. The things that weigh my heart down won’t always be this heavy. Abba, you began a work in me (and all creation) you will finish. Hallelujah… Thank you… And So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, there are many reasons I look forward to life in the new heaven and new earth. Being with you and becoming like you tops my list; but I also crave the Day when your entire Bride will be made perfect in love. Our eternal diversity reflects your beauty, but our current disunity demonstrates of how little we know and love you. Have mercy of us, Lord, have mercy on me.

“Every nation, tribe, people and tongue” (Rev.7:9) doesn’t just describe our origin, but also our forever. You haven’t called us to the uniformity of externals, but to “the unity of the Spirit”—the unity the Holy Spirit has created by uniting us to you, Lord Jesus. Until you return and glorify us, we will see some things quite differently as your people. But how we handle those differences is as critical as the differences themselves. Help us Jesus. When we must divide over essentials, it is essential that we do so in love.

On the Day you do return, Jesus, I envision a beautiful tidal wave of humility washing over your impossible-to-count, every-nation bride. For each of us will discover how much more glorious and loving you are than we ever imagined. We will realize that whatever our theological tradition, particular denominational tribe, and place in the history of redemption—all of us knew maybe 3% of your truth, goodness, and beauty.

We will be humbled then; humble us more now, Jesus. We will see you as you are and we will be made like you. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Dear Lord Jesus, we hate it, but it’s actually good to come to the end of ourselves, and have our mojo and magic run out. To stand before seas only you can part, armies only you can defeat, crises only you can resolve, people we cannot change or rescue.

For that’s when we abandon ourselves to you—and not just treat you like a consulting partner, kind helper, or really good teacher. If you aren’t God and if you don’t love us as much as you say you do, we have no hope. But… Hallelujah… you are, and we do.

By your finished work, we now live in God’s permanent favor and unwavering delight—the only love that is better than life. No other supply is sufficient to meet our need. No other resource can give the strength to scale the mountain in front of us. No other balm can touch the pain or heal the hurt. No other oasis can bring rest to our exhaustion. There is no other reliance that is unquestionably reliable than you, Jesus, and the great love you have for us. So here we come running, or at least, collapsing on you.

We bring our bewildered hearts and weaknesses to you. We bring our lurking temptations and unhealthy habits. We bring our fragile health and feelings of vulnerability. We bring you our drifting children and distant spouses. We bring you our anger, sadness, and numbness. We bring it all to you, Jesus. Only you are worthy. Only you are trustworthy. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, these verses remind me of the day I toured the Cailler Chocolate factory in Broc, Switzerland. It was sensory overload—too much to take in on a cool September morning. I thought it was all a dream until we got to spend 5 minutes in the sampling room of everything they make at Cailler. Oh my!!!

But if I use that day and fine Swiss dark chocolate as a metaphor for the Gospel, what staggers my imagination is Paul’s affirmation in Eph.2:6-7 of these three things:

1. We are already spiritually raised from the dead, and are seated with Jesus in heavenly places. That’s not just something that awaits us in the future, but it’s our current reality as well.
2. You raised us for an eternity of “show and tell”—with you showing us and telling us more and more about the riches of your grace lavished on us in the Gospel. We don’t just get 5 minutes in the sample room, but the entire “coming ages” for seeing and savoring everything that is ours in Jesus.
3. Your disposition towards us today, and forever, is kindness—not lame, tame, aw-shucks-niceness, but constant welcome, engagement, unwavering affection, and unfettered delight.

Abba, thank you. No, we really mean it, thank you! Though it almost sounds cliché… “we believe, help our unbelief.” It’s not a dream, it’s true. The Gospel is more true, good, and beautiful than anything else. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, I dreaded Mother’s Day for decades, for I grew up in a church that celebrated Mother’s Day by everyone wearing a rose to honor their mother. If your mom was living, you’d wear a red rose; and if she had “passed,” you wore a white rose. From age eleven on I was marked as a white rose kid, and I hated it. I didn’t want the attention, or to remember the day mom was ripped from my life through a car wreck. So after a couple of “white rose Sundays,” I stopped going to church.

Seven years later, I came to know you Jesus, and soon discovered Romans 8:28 in my Bible. But, like Israel’s worse prophets (Jer.6:14), I tried to heal my heart wound “lightly,” using that verse as a Band-Aid for a “scratch.” instead of opting for open-heart surgery. But like all forms of denial, mine collapsed under the weight of time + reality + grace.

Jesus, you are a healer, not an illusionist. Healing is less about getting over pain, and more about growing through it. Now, Romans 8:28 claims me, I don’t claim it. It’s a promise of a healing journey, not a panacea for pretenders or an epidural for masking pain. The wounds we carry are to be a portal through which your mercy, grace, and love flow to others. Hallelujah, and thank you.

I miss Martha Ward Smith—“mom”—fiercely, and I so look forward to being with her in eternity. My wife, kids, grandkids never saw here striking brown eyes and beautiful brunet hair, or felt her kind touch or heard her infectious laugh. Gratefully, that will change one Day. The heart-void mom left is still real, and that’s where you still meet me, Jesus. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, you know everything about us—all the beautiful, bad, broken, and bruised parts. And you accept us 100%—with all your heart and strength, with your eyes and arms wide open. Your desire for us never wains and your delight in us never wavers. We’ll never shock, bore, or grate on your nerves. Hallelujah! and “Oh my!” The “Oh my!” is in response to your call for us to accept others as you accept us.

That’s hard Jesus, because “one another” you call us to accept in the Body of Christ are really different from us. Right now we consider many of them to be enemies or a threat—theologically too conservative or too liberal—politically and socially, too “left wing” or too “right wing.”

As Paul wrote the book of Romans, he addressed a growing “kaleidoscopic” community of believers who once lived as self-righteous Jews and pagan Gentiles, Greek stoics and Roman citizens, pantheists and polytheists, the demon possessed and the highly religious, the wealthy and the “worthless,” ethnic purists and mixed bloodlines. Few of us would easily, willingly, gladly join the emerging church in Rome.

Jesus, you must help us. You must “grace us.” Grant us bigger hearts—much bigger hearts. Free us from our prejudices and stereotypes, our tribalism and racism. The Gospel calls us to enjoy and extend your welcoming heart to all. One Day we will celebrate and totally love our every-nation forever-diverse family—as we stream into the New Jerusalem together (Rev. 7:4-10). Free us now to live and love towards that Day. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, thank you for a new day, new mercies, and an old verse that frames all of life and history. The Gospel continues to bear fruit and grow “throughout the whole world”—in Ireland, Istanbul, Iraq, Indonesia, Iceland, Iran, India and every other place beginning with every other letter in the alphabet. We don’t exaggerate when we sing, “This Is My Father’s World”—all of it.

There’s no greater power guaranteeing the most glorious imaginable than the Gospel of your grace. And 52 years + 5 days into our marriage, when people ask, “How have you guys stayed together that long, and still really seem to enjoy each other?”, the answer is the same. The Gospel is the only reason and answer. Your grace continues to humble, re-center, convict, gentle, and gladden our hearts. You began a work in all creation and in our hearts that you will finish. It’s not always easy, but it’s always better than any other story we could write.

Indeed, Father, to “truly understand your grace” isn’t merely to gain helpful insight. It’s essential reality, the greatest privilege, the treasure of all treasures, the “summum bonum” of life—the one thing alone worthy of the phrase, “This changes everything.” Continue to deepen and broaden, nourish and flourish our knowledge and experience of the Gospel of your grace. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, thank you for the gift of friendship—and especially for you being a “friend of sinners.” We would despair if that wasn’t so. In fact, you are way more familiar with how much we need your mercy, grace, and Spirit than we are. It’s one of the reasons you call us to Gospel-soaked friendships.

I cannot imagine growing older not having friends who own their weaknesses and vulnerability, and treasure the Gospel and its riches. The thought of not having friends like that has never been more scary, unacceptable, and dangerous. Likewise, none of us needs to have (or be) “friends” like Job had—self-appointed fixers,  more likely to give correction than affection—more “skilled” at giving advise than engaging from the heart.

Jesus, thank you for the friends who have already come to mind as we pray together this morning. And thank you for giving us all kinds of things to richly enjoy with one another as friends (1Tim.6:17). You never designed life to be one big hymn sing or Bible study—as important as both are.

Thank you for friendship that includes play and laughter, enjoyment of creation and music, exploration and adventure, suffering and trusting, fishing and catching fish, good food and unrushed conversation. Precisely because we live together well, we will die and bury one another well… and delight forever in the fullness of eternal life we will enjoy together in the new heaven and new earth.  Thank you, Jesus, and So VERY Amen.

Lord Jesus, you do “everything well”—even when some things you do puzzle, stretch, and exasperate us. We plan, but your purpose will stand (Hallelujah!). You open doors we try to slam shut, and you close doors we keep trying to pry open. We pray, and you always answer with the answer designed to bring you glory, and us (in time) to “wonder, love, and praise.”

If we knew now what you’ve eternally known, we’d wring our hands in frustration less, and raise them in worship more. If we could hear what you’re praying right now, we’d celebrate your every word, timetable, and planned outcomes.

Jesus, you know what is best. You do what is best. Because you are the Best. You feed hungry sparrows and 5K crowds (Matt.10:29-31; Jn.6:1-14). “Impossibilities” (Lk.18:27) and “making all things new” (Rev.21:5) are your specialty. There’s never been a mantle cell you can’t dismantle, a “thorn in the flesh” for which you can’t give sufficient grace, or a tomb so closed you can’t open it (Jn.11:1-44).

No matter how messy the mess, dire the straights, or hard the storyline—you don’t just “have our backs” but also our everything. We believe, help our unbelief. We trust, refuel our trust-tank. We are grateful, supersize our gratitude 70 times 7. Jesus, grant big grace for me and my friends—big, sovereign, situation-shaped grace. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Dear Father, several images come to mind when I think of King David’s “self-speak“ captured in this verse. Lonely people with no one to listen, murmuring about life’s pains as they walk the mall. Athletes psyching themselves up before an event starts. Children surrounded by stuffed animals telling adventure stories while enjoying imaginary tea and cookies. And then there’s me, and most of my praying friends.

Some of us talk to ourselves with contempt—heaping blame, shame, and vain regrets. Some of us carry on a self-pity monologue—reminding ourselves of what we deserve, don’t have, and who’s to blame. Some of us escape into fantasies of what could’ve, should’ve, would’ve been, if only…

But as your children, you call us to speak to ourselves like King David did, with you always in the conversation. “Restless soul, find your rest in God alone, for Abba is your ever-flowing fountain of hope.”

In similar fashion, “Anxious Scotty, find your center and peace in Jesus today. Take your fears and worries to the one who is always present in the storm. Jesus knows your name, and the storm knows his name. Trust him.”

“Vulnerable Scotty, don’t plug your “peace-plug” into people and their opinions of you. Jesus knows you thoroughly and loves you totally. Your greatest need isn’t to be celebrated, 20 years younger, or to rebrand yourself. Pass “the torch,” or you’ll burn yourself with it.”

“Angry Scotty, do you see how much energy you waste comparing, blaming, and resenting? You’re acting like a spiritual orphan—without Abba as your loving and engaged Father. You know better than you’re acting.”

“Contented Scotty, camp out here. Don’t rush it. Linger in Abba’s welcome and presence. Abide in his love.” So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, sometimes the main thing we need is perspective—to see things from the vantage point you enjoy. You experience the brokenness of the world, the unfolding of every promise of God, and the fulfillment of our great hope simultaneously. But we have a very limited, skewed, myopic perspective. We don’t think the earth is flat; but sometimes it does feel like it’s a giant field of “weeds”—like crabgrass, kudzu, poison ivy, and ragweed.

Without seeing what you see and knowing what you know Jesus, we get lost in the “weeds.” But because of who you are, Jesus, and what you’ve accomplished, we’re actually living among huge redwoods of grace, surrounded by mountains of mercy, while rivers of providence are steadily moving history closer and closer to the Day of all things new and beautiful (Rev. 21:1-22:6). That’s not groundless hype, it’s our living hope.

The Apostle Paul lived with this heavenly, Gospel-infused perspective; and he quickly returned to it when the “weeds” seemed bigger than the “redwoods.” I love his words and I want his heart:

“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed later… We groan inwardly and wait eagerly”—for the fullness of our sonship, the redemption of our bodies, and the transformation of the entire cosmos. (Rom. 8:18-25).

Thank you Jesus, for every day you say to us: “Come up here in the Gospel and the pages of the Scriptures. Come up here where my throne is occupied, peace is palpable, and joy is irrepressible. Come up here and I will show you more of me, the expiration date of every “weed,” and the future I’ve won for you.” Hallelujah and so Very Amen.

On our first Cinco de Mayo, Darlene and I understood so little about many things, but we were especially deficient in being alive to the riches of your grace, the daily-ness of your mercies and the lavishness of your love. We were also naïve, clueless, and indifferent about the wounds and brokenness we brought into our marriage. In your perfect timing that changed, and your grace, kindness, and love became our oxygen, bread, and hope.  

Thank you for rescuing us from the notion that if we “married the right person” it would be easy and enough. Thank you for mentors and models who helped us understand there’s only one perfect spouse in our marriage—you, Jesus, our ultimate and eternal Spouse. Thank you for freeing us from trying to be the 4^th member of the Trinity in each other’s lives. Thank you that we can now weep together and rejoice together—be weak together and hope together—repent quicker and encourage more. Thank you for friends and couples we get to walk with now who are just as grace-needy and dependent on you as we are.

One day, one of us will commit the other to the earth and into your presence. Until that day, continue to pour more and more of your grace, gentleness, and kindness into our hearts and marriage. Keep freeing us, growing us, and using us to your glory. Jesus. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, this bit of history indicts and invites my heart this morning. Two unschooled, ordinary fishermen—Peter and John, were radically liberated, all because of their relationship with you. They were recognized because they’d been with you. You didn’t just call them to be bold disciples; but first and foremost, to know, love, and delight in you. This is exactly what you desire for us too. Thank you, 1000 times over.

So, Jesus, renew, deepen, and nourish our heart-relationship with you. May your beauty be alluring all over again… your love compelling… and your presence be our feast and delight. Doing the right things for you isn’t the same thing as spending life-giving time with you. Thinking great thoughts and singing rich hymns about you isn’t the same thing as singing to you and being “smitten” with your nearness.

Not to shame us, but to encourage and re-center us—remind us of those seasons when you mattered more to us than anyone and anything. We don’t crave “spiritual ecstasy” or intense feelings—it’s you we crave Jesus—you as our treasure, banquet, and inheritance. We don’t need to hear anybody say, “They’ve been with Jesus.” We just want to be with you, Jesus—now and forever. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, sometimes we wonder what you’re currently doing in heaven—speculating this, that, or the other. Sometimes—to our own loss, we don’t even ponder such a weighty notion. But after your resurrection, you ascended to the right hand of our Father, and you didn’t fall into a hammock, sit back in a recliner, or “go on sabbatical.” You joyfully climbed onto your throne, and no one has ever been more active, loving, and engaged than you are at this very moment. Hallelujah, and thank you.

For you are actively…

Making all things new (Rev. 1:5)

Delighting in us as your Bride (Isa. 62:5)

Interceding for us constantly (Heb. 7:25)

Working in all things for our good (Rom. 8:28)

Ruling over every king on the earth (Rev. 1:4b-6)

Enjoying fellowship with the Father and us (1 Jn 1:3)

Sustaining all things by your powerful word (Heb.1:3)

Being worshipped by everyone in heaven (Rev. 5:9-19)

Putting all your enemies under your feet (1 Cor. 15:25)

Reminding us your righteousness is ours when we sin (1 Jn.2:1-2)

Preparing a place for us and “prepping” us for your return (Jn.14:1–3)

Jesus, your constant care and generosity wilt our unbelief, sabotage our fears, invite our trust, and invoke our worship. You are truly our most wonderful, merciful Savior. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, thank you for being honest about life between the resurrection and return of Jesus. Until the Day of “all things new,” everyone carries neediness, brokenness, and frustrations. “Toil,” thorns, and weeds will remain with us “under the sun” until Jesus returns. And yet you intend joy to be our traveling buddy, all the way into the new heaven and new earth. You’re always loving, blessing, and reminding us that beauty gets the last word, not brokenness. Here are some of my favorite ways joy shows up in the passenger seat.

It’s the little “Abba-gifts” we didn’t see coming—unexpected “grace-bombs” you drop on us at just the right time: Pop-ups of heavenly kindness like oasis-conversations with old friends. Snort-producing laughter generated by our kids and grandkids… Daffodils blooming out of season… the “tightline” and joy-rush of a big fish that took our bait… Watercolor paints drying prettier than our skill set… Four hours of sleep that felt like ten… An old song reminding us of a sweet memory… Reconnecting with a spouse or friend after a silly “tiff”… Our taste buds break-dancing in our mouths as we bite into our favorite dessert. There’s so much more, SO many ways you bless us in our toil and longings for Home. Thank you, Abba.

You really are the God from whom all blessings flow—not just ooze or drip. Life “under the sun” is enjoyable–not merely doable and endurable, because of the life you’ve given us in your Son. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, what a shocking contrast—a tranquil heart gives life, but envy rots bones. Hmmm… which shall I choose? Personally, I don’t crave a “smart home” with all the technology now available. But I do miss remembering names like I could in the past, and it does take a little longer to retrieve information that used to be on the tip of my tongue. And I do get envious of my friends that can fix anything, build stuff, and follow instructions that come “in the box.”

Though I can tell anybody how to get to heaven (hallelujah for the Gospel!), I didn’t get the “GPS chip” and am seriously directionally impaired. Especially when I compare myself to my friends who have a built-in compass, sonar, gyroscope, and radar. I’d also love a dark olive complexion never impacted by the sun; but alas, my pasty white skin invites sun damage like Winnie the Pooh always finds honey.

So how can a tranquil, peaceful heart be gained and cultivated? There’s no pill, formula, or “easy fix”—and only in heaven will we enjoy a perfected 100% peace-full heart. But until then, I know of no other way than walking with you—spending time adoring and communing with you, Jesus.

The more I behold your beauty, the less anything else dazzles and tempts me. The more I’m alive to the riches of grace, the more other currencies lose their value and hold on my heart. The more I hear you singing to me in the Gospel, Jesus, the less having people’s approval, or getting their criticism, matters.

And for sure—having friends who love you, own their weaknesses, live on mission, repent easy, and are committed to mutual encouragement helps a ton—make that several tons. There’s more, but for now… So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, in a world of broken people, challenging circumstances, and unfinished stories, it’s a source of immeasurable peace to know you as the “God of hope” (Rom.15:13). You specialize in “will be’s”—not “might be’s” “could be’s”, or “oughta be’s.” Outcomes belong to you as surely as heaven and earth, angels and us.

We live under your reign of grace, not by the math of karma. Because of Jesus’ empty tomb and occupied throne, we don’t live by crossing our fingers in hope, but by lifting our hands in worship. Abba, you are good and you are sovereign over all things, all the time, no exceptions. That doesn’t make everything easy, but it sure means we are loved. Even if today includes…

• Canceled or delayed flights to a friend in crisis.
• Driving to get an unexpected bone marrow test.
• News about our children that weigh our hearts down.
• Changes we didn’t choose and stories we would not script.
• Rain on our “parade” when we really need, sun and a low dew point.

Father, we abandon ourselves to you right now. It’s actually good to be out of bootstraps to pull up, for it makes the Gospel necessary not “nice”—essential not optional. We absolutely love the two “I am’s” and three “I will’s” of Isaiah 41:10. You promise big stuff that only you can and will do. Thank you, Abba.  So Very Amen we pray, in Jesus’ most worship-worthy name.

Dear Lord Jesus, we are so grateful for the Scriptures—for the Bible… God’s inspired and trustworthy Word. Never written as a book of formulas for self-salvation, or rules for earning our way into heaven, it always points us to you. For you are the hero of its 66 books, 1169 chapters, and 31,102 verses.

You are the “Yes!” and fulfillment of every promise God made. You are the fulfiller and fullness of the Bible’s prophecies—prophecies that excited both the prophets who received them and angels who pondered them (1Peter 1:10-12).

Worshipping you isn’t to be balanced with anything. Loving you too much is an impossibility. You are not an add on, addendum, or agenda item. You created the cosmos, sustain everything, and are making all things new. With humility and gladness, we declare with the apostle Paul, “to live is Christ, and to die is to gain” more of you.

So it’s only fitting that the Bible would conclude with you, Jesus, and your great and never-exhaustible grace. “The grace of the Lord Jesus be will all. Amen” Saving grace that first united us to you, Jesus, and keeps us united. Sustaining grace that supplies our every need, and even some of our “whims.” Sufficient grace for the mysteries, “too-much-ness” of life, and prayers Abba chooses to answer differently than we asked.

“Sane-ing” grace that renews our minds and gives us the perspective of eternity. And dare I put it this way, “Sweetening” grace that makes us more empathic, gentle, caring, and kind—like you. Jesus, we long to see you as you are, and be made like you (1Jn.3:1-3). Until then… Hooray and Hallelujah, you will give us “grace upon grace” (Jn.1:16). So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, my old notions of heaven were rather boring—and unbiblical, mind you. Harps, halos, robes, and singing have been replaced with a dynamic vision of the life we will enjoy in the new heaven and new earth. Not just perfect relationships, but perfect creativity and culture building forever. We will be beautiful and create beauty forever.

You are making all things new, not all new things, so there will be a lot of continuity with the world as we know it. Places dear to us will become even more dear. Tolkien referred to it as the Day when “everything sad comes untrue”; and C S Lewis spoke of the resurrection of Jesus as the beginning of “death working backwards.” Everything broken will become “uber-beautiful”—a better version of its original. Stunning, to say the least, and certainly sensational on Gospel-steroids.

So what will we do with the accumulated “splendor of the kings” brought into the New Jerusalem? It at least suggests that we will take the best of every culture represented in eternity and start building new creation culture together forever. All the art, tastes, cultural markers, music, symbols, language, norms, values, and artifacts of every nation will be celebrated and blended to reveal even more of your glory Jesus.

Our fascination, curiosity, awe, and joy will increase forever and ever. Everything we do will be worship saturated, meaning it will declare your praise and reveal more of your truth, goodness, and beauty, Jesus. Thank you for a heaven that’s way more “heavenly” than we ever imagined. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, we all have experienced moments of sensory overload—when all of our senses were quickened in an electrifying, overwhelming, energizing way. Sights, sounds, tastes, touches, the aroma of wonder… seizing us, creating a whole-body smile and sense of awe. Sitting still was no longer an option. Staying mute was impossible. Falling down, running around, making sounds we used to emit as small children… the freedom of response, unfettered joy, throwing caution and modesty to the wind.

That happened to me on my first trip to Switzerland. But I realize now that visit was just a small taste of what John experienced when you gave him an all-senses preview of our coming life in the new heaven and new earth. Grant us the same, Jesus, and more of the same.

John’s circumstances were horrible—to say the least—when you gave him this participatory vision. Many of us need a transcendent touch of your Spirit too, Jesus, for we inhabit all kinds of stories that make eternal life more compelling than ever. We’re not asking for experience for experience sake, but to know and love you as fully as pre-glorified believers possibly can. Jesus, be our greatest and dearest treasure—again, or for the very first time. So Very Amen

Dear Lord Jesus, we paise, bless, and adore you for many well-founded reasons. But today, rather than just offering a general “thank you,” we want to be specific. Though there are scores more, here are “7 no more’s” you have won for us that we will enjoy in fullness forever, after your return.

No more “sea“—the metaphor for darkness, chaos, and evil in the Book of Revelation. Hallelujah, Jesus, you haven’t secured a “beach-less” eternity for us, but a “broken-less” one. The devil is still dastardly, but he is our defeated foe and will soon be eradicated.

No more “death, mourning, crying, pain.” You defeated death and pain at your first coming, and will eliminate them at your return. We will never again experience death or pain in any form—not just physical death and pain, but also emotional, spiritual, mental, societal, relational, environmental… thank you, Lord, thank you.

No more “hunger and thirst” of any variety. Jesus, thank you for setting an expiration date on hunger and thirst—physical and spiritual. All poverty and privation will be gone. The category “hungry child” will cease to exist. “Not enough” will be replaced with “hyper-abundance”… all because of you, Jesus. Even in eternity you will shepherd us and “lead us to springs of living water.” Wow!!!

With our minds blown, hearts inflamed, and hands raised, we worship you, Jesus. Until you return, we will labor and love with you in all these arenas of brokenness, confident of the soon coming Day of all things new. So Very Amen

Heavenly Father, I come to you this morning with empty hands, not to grab what isn’t mine, but to raise my hands in praise and surrender to you. Quite literally, you’ve got the whole world in your hands, and you haven’t made me co-sovereign with you or the 4^th member of the Trinity.

I can’t impact the number of days before you call me Home, but please fill the rest of them with faith, hope, and love (1Cor.13:13). I can’t make anybody happy or holy, but free me to love everyone “as unto you.” No one is my project, but everybody is your image bearer.

Father, though I’d like to own the pen you use, only you are the Author and Finisher of our faith and life stories. I don’t have power over how much pain and suffering my loved ones will experience in life; but forgive me for the moments when I think you don’t care, or have simply left everything to chance. Working in all things for our good is your guarantee and specialty. Thank you.

Abba, you haven’t given me a magic wand to wave over global warfare, or the next American election, or human trafficking, or every expression of evil. But you have given me a vision of Jesus’ empty tomb, your fully occupied throne, and a tantalizing peak of our coming life in the new heaven and new earth (Rev.21:1-22:6). That’s all I need to live and to love to your glory until Jesus returns. Hallelujah, you are God, and I am so very not. So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, when my mind is in cruise control, I’m capable of thinking things that rob you of glory, rob me of peace, and rob others of my heart-engagement. So on this April Wednesday, here are some things I want to call to mind that I might stay grateful, fuel hope, and love others as you love me, Jesus.

Jesus, your tomb is empty, your throne is occupied, and your righteousness is mine. Honestly, I really don’t have to worry about anything, because all my real needs are met in these 3 affirmations.

Jesus, your love is more steadfast than my unbelief is stubborn. Your grace is greater than all my sin, weaknesses, and brokenness. Your mercies for me are new every morning, afternoon, and evening. These realities deserve my hourly awareness way more than things and people that I allow to discourage, deflate, and depress me.

Jesus, you are ruler of the kings of the earth, “right-freakin’-now”—not just when you return. You deserve my worship and trust more than politics, madness, and world events deserve permission to give me irritable heart-syndrome and peace-robbing fear.

Jesus, you are more beautiful than I realize—dazzle my heart with your loveliness. You are more joyful than I can fathom, and you pray that I might know the fullness of your joy. We sing of you, “Is He worthy? He is! Is the new creation coming? It is! Is it good that we remind ourselves of this? It is.” So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, none of us on this “prayer-train”—bound for the wedding feast of the Lamb and life in the new heaven and new earth—none of us will tempted to melt down whatever precious metals we own and make an idol of it. But idolatry remains a real danger for us, and is often more subtle in its forms.

Help us, Lord… make clear to us the people, things, and scenarios to which we give preoccupation, trust, and affection that rightfully belong to you. What vies for your place in my/our hearts? One of the most shocking things I first heard you say in the Scriptures is this: “Anyone who loves their father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves their son or daughter, (spouse, siblings, or friends), more than me is not worthy of me” Matt.10:37.

I “get it” now, but that used to disturb me. The truth is, we will only love anyone well when we love you most. Loving you preeminently, Jesus, with our mind, heart, soul, and strength is our greatest privilege, reason for being, and primary calling—now and forever.

What else can we “over-need” or “love” disproportionally—to the point we obsess, get angry, default to shame, or stay anxious? To name a few: What people think of us. Our physical health and appearance. The salvation of our kids. The fear of more pain and being forgotten. The drive to be enough and have enough … Jesus, help us, free us. Only your love is better than life. Only you are enough. Only you are worthy of everything we have and are. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, I’m feeling my “humanity” this morning, so the Apostle Paul’s gift of his own vulnerability comes like a kiss. If Paul felt fear and discouragement at times, why would I assume otherwise for myself? Nothing major is sucking my joy—no school of angry piranha are munching on my heart. I think I’ve sprung a small “grace-leak” that needs attention.

So thank you, Jesus, for the encouragement you send us at just the right time, in different ways, through various messengers. You’re quite capable of sending ravens and rainbows, manna and miracles, a fish with a coin in its mouth (Matt.17:24-27) or 153 fish into the nets of weary disciples (Jn.21:4-12). Most often you come to us through our friends.

I love how Paul referred to his friend Titus: “His presence was a joy.” Titus didn’t put pressure on Paul to do more try harder. And he didn’t seem to be a verse-quoting, cliché-giving fixer—like Job’s “friends” who showed up in his stress and duress. Jesus, thank you for our Titus-like friends. They give us your unrushed, non-anxious, no-judgment, healing presence.

When you are close, Jesus, “bruised reeds and smoldering wicks” feel no pressure to stand tall or glow like a lighthouse (Matt.12:15-21). Even as you come to us in our friends, so send us to our friends who need a bit (or a lot) of encouragement today. So Very Amen.

Gracious Father, thank you for the promise a new heart—a promise you fulfilled when you gave us the will, faith, and grace to trust Jesus. Our new heart beats for you now, but will only beat for you when Jesus returns. On that blessed Day, our new heart will become a perfected heart—a whole, holy heart, wholly yours and fully like Jesus.  We cannot wait, but we must and will.

The image of a heart of stone being replaced with a heart of flesh isn’t a mere metaphor—it’s a Gospel miracle, gift, and our deep longing. Personally, I’ve bumped, yet again, into my need for some “new-heart cardiology care.” What does that look like for me?

Little things start irritating me quicker than it takes Gorilla-glue to set. Then I start seething longer than it takes oil paint to dry. I get loud with my silence, judgmental and insecure in my head, and busy planning a pity-party in honor of my self-righteousness. Abba, I am so thankful for your daily mercies and limitless grace…

For I want more of a kinder heart, a tender heart, a sweet-heart, a compassionate heart, a caring heart, a servant’s heart, a soft heart—the heart of Jesus. I want to live as a quick repenter and deep encourager—a builder-upper, an edifier… until the day you take me Home. For the only thing that counts, is faith expressing itself in love (Gal. 5:6). So Very Amen I pray, in Jesus’ tender and triumphant name.

Abba, Father, gratitude, thanksgiving, praising you … there’s no better way to begin this Saturday morning. It’s the best form of spiritual warfare and fertilizer for contentment, so here we go.

• Thank you for raising us from spiritual death, hiding our lives in Jesus, and making us your beloved kids.
• Thank you for promising to finish your good work in us, and for working in all things for our good… “even when we don’t see that you’re working, that is who you are.”
• Thank you for the constancy of your delight in us, Jesus’ non-stop intercession for us, and the Spirit’s 24/7 prayer-ministry inside us.
• Thank you for setting an expiration date on all evil, death, sickness, poverty, hunger, racism, and lovelessness… just to mention 7 of a gazillion.
• Thank you for friends who give us more grace than advice, more encouragement than criticism, and more loud laughter than heavy sighs.
• Thank you that nothing can separate us from your love, derail your plans for the entire cosmos, or delay the soon coming of Jesus.
• Thank you that if we knew what you know, could experience one day of our coming life in the new heaven and new earth, and could get a peak at ourselves when you make us fully like Jesus (Oh freakin’ my!) … well, we wouldn’t be able to contain the joy. We praise, bless, and adore you, Abba. Truly, thank you and So Very

Lord Jesus, you give us a chilling picture of power-hungry leadership in this passage. Like a fast-spreading virus, lording-over gets passed down the “food chain.” Controlled people like to control others. The shamed shame. The stressed tend to stress others.

“Not so with you,” you said to your disciples. True greatness, according to you, is “lording under.” Leaders getting low, very low. To use a scepter to control people only requires a bad attitude, sitting down on a throne, and barking orders. To use a towel to wash feet requires humility, a servant’s heart, and getting all the way down on our knees. You immediately come to mind and heart, Jesus.

Your curriculum vitae (CV) is pretty impressive: You created the entire universe (Col. 1:16; John 1:3), and sustain all things by the power of your word (Heb. 1:3) You are the ruler of the kings of the earth (Rev. 1:5), and are currenting making all things new (Rev. 21:5). One Day all things in heaven and on earth will be summed up in you (Eph. 1:10).

YET—so gloriously yet you took the lowest place imaginable. You didn’t just stoop to wash our feet, you died to wash our hearts. Your cross is quintessential greatness, revolutionary leadership—our only hope, and the surety of our salvation. As the Lord over all things, you are the Lord who got under the weight of our sin, taking the judgment we deserve. Humbled and grateful, we go with you into our marriages, parenting, vocations, boardrooms, friending, and neighboring, as servants. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, sometimes we get so busy with our plans, we forget you are the perfect planner, and “get-it-done-er.” Unlike us, you don’t have to make plans and then say, “Lord willing.” For you are the Lord who only plans things that you will make happen. Hallelujah, a gazillion times over!

Like an indelible heart-tattoo inked with grace, make this one verse from the Apostle Paul our GPS setting, present peace, and joy-fuel. You set a Day when everything will be united, peaceful, and complete in Jesus. May that Day impact the rest of our days, until Jesus returns.

What a blessed Day that will be…

We will finally see Jesus and become fully like him.

Wiped tears, redeemed pain, and healed everything.

No more sin, death, evil, fears, hurting or hurting others.

The Great Commission will become the Great Accomplishment.

The earth will be filled with your glory, glorified family, and all things new.

Bring. It. On. Father. Until then, renew and deepen our love for Jesus. Help us grow in gentleness, humility, and kindness. What a beloved, cared-for, hope-secured people we are. Thank you, Father… So Very Amen we pray, in Jesus’ loving and powerful name.

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable and doesn’t keep a record of being wronged; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Cor. 13:4-7).

Lord Jesus, every phrase in this passage drives me to you—to be forgiven, to be gifted with your righteousness, and for power to love others as you love me. Fortunately, we’re not saved to the degree we love like this, but to the degree you love us like this, which is 100%.

In particular, I’m struggling with love not “keeping a record of being wronged,” and love “believes all things.” I know you’re not calling us to have amnesia about how we’ve been hurt, or to pretend like things didn’t happen. But you are calling us (me) to forgive from the heart. Help me, Jesus. Free me. Even if those who wronged me never own it, I want to be freer on the inside.

And about the issue of love “believes all things”—bring me back to the place of assuming the best of others and situations, not the worse. I don’t want to be foolishly naïve; but even less do I want to be always suspicious, overly guarded, easily cynical, and unwilling to trust. Jesus, you are always present and always at work in every situation, no exceptions. Thank you, and … So Very Amen.

Father, the weight of the darkness makes it difficult for me to wait for your deliverance. Hold me tightly, for I feel my grasp is growing weaker and weaker. Will this sorrow ever lift? Will my fears always outnumber my hopes? Will my heart ever sing again?

I would completely despair if you hadn’t written the Gospel upon my heart and hid my life in Jesus. If you didn’t write with indelible grace-ink, the accuser and condemner would have long sense erased all memory of your goodness from my soul. Though my conscience and emotions mock me, I rest in your promises that I am yours, that you love me, and that you will never leave me and will finish your work in me.

“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me?” Ps. 43:5

Father, I feel like a leper in a world of healthy people. I am alone, and I choose aloneness over the threat of judgment and more shame. Please keep people like Job’s friends far from me. I’m not a project to be fixed, a riddle to be solved, or a waif to be pitied. Who can possibly understand what it feels like to be me? Who will meet me in this pain? Only you, my God, only you can.

I’m sorry that I cannot run to you, Father. I have no strength and little will. The best I can do is to collapse on Jesus. So I fall on the one who took my place and bore my shame. Meet me here, Father, pour your mercy upon me. For Jesus’ sake, I make my plea.

“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” Ps. 13:1

Father, I want to be near you, but as the same time, I want to keep my distance. I understand why Adam hid from you, but I also am angry and confused that you seem far away. Lord, I’m a mess, in desperate need of your mercy. I know what I believe, but feelings of dread and voices of darkness have worn me out. I’m heartsick, body weary, and weak-willed.

Yet I will look to you, Father, and for you. In the past, you have dealt with me graciously—I cannot deny that. In my most sane moments, I know you are good. I’m afraid to hope, but I’m more afraid not to hope. Come, Lord, come. Let me see Jesus again—through my tears. I remember, and long to be restored to the days of grace and peace. Father me, Father.

So Very Amen

Dear Abba, five compelling words—”Everything I have is yours.” Compelling and enticing, curiosity-fueling and memory-triggering—for instance, in the 100’s of weddings I have officiated, nervous and naïve couples speak these words to each other as a part of their covenant vows: “With all that I am, and with all that I have, I honor you.” In other words, “I will withhold nothing in our marriage. Everything I have and am, I now give to you.”

On the other end of the spectrum—the dark part of the spectrum, Satan lied to Jesus with similar words. “See all these kingdoms and their splendor, I’ll give all of it to you, if you will bow down and worship me” (Matt.4:9). What a lie and what a liar he is… they weren’t his to give, and he had no clue to whom he was speaking.

But Father—glorious, generous, loving Abba, it is you who speaks these words to us. “Everything I have is yours—we who are as foolish and broken as the younger son, and as insolent and clueless as the elder son (Luke 15:11-32). In the Gospel you constantly say to us: “I give you myself. Nothing will separate you from my love, exhaust my grace, or deplete my mercies. I greatly delight in you, will quiet you with my love, and will never stop rejoicing over you.” (Zeph.3:14-17)

“All that is mine is yours—the fullness of my forgiveness, the righteousness of my Son, a home in my heart and family, the sealing and presence of my Spirit. I rescued you from the dominion of darkness and brought you into the kingdom of my beloved Son—the New Creation (Col.1:13; 2 Cor.5:17). Your citizenship is in heaven and your new and forever name ‘My Beloved.’” Father… shocking, stunning…  thank you… free us from our unbelief. So Very Amen.

   Dear Lord Jesus, I’m up a bit earlier than usual today—vexing, longing, but also deeply grateful. Thank you for all the hope crammed into these two verses. Thank you for the coming Day of no more “violence, ruin, and destruction”—no more “death, mourning, crying, or pain” (Rev.21:4). Thank you for promising it, securing it—now we long for you to bring it. “How long O Lord?” indeed.

When will drone attacks and random stabbings, international conflicts—even petty arguments between friends, cease to exist? When will “Peace be our governor” and “Well-being our ruler”? When will all razor-wire topped, electrified fences be replaced with “walls of Salvation” and “gates of Praise”?

We intensely crave that kind of leadership, culture, and world. Jesus, can you hurry it up, Jesus, please? You promised wolves and lambs, calves and lions will live together in kindness (Isa. 11:6-9). Your glory, not our lovelessness, will cover the earth. When is that actually going to happen, Lord?

Until then, show us how to live by the Gospel, not by the sword—by the way of your cross, not the ways of mere men—by expectant faith, not paralyzing fear—by extending your love, not pulling down our shades. So very amen, Jesus, So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, what a centering gift this passage is to us. First, thank you for giving us your “great and precious promises.” Your promises represent things you have planned in eternity, keep without exception, and implement with “Swiss-timing-on-steroids.”

Your promises aren’t blank checks we fill in and cash. They are the perfection of your plan, executed in the fullness of time, by the riches of your grace. You have never over promised and you will never under-deliver. In this glorious sense, your promises claim us, we don’t claim them. Hallelujah, this affirmation is SO freeing.

   Second, thank you for clarifying why you have given us so many promises in the Bible. By your promises, we don’t program you; you transform us. To “share in your divine nature” is to become like Jesus, not become “little gods” exercising micro-sovereignty over anything or anybody. Indeed, your promises are way more about our holiness than our happiness—us “escaping corruption,” not accumulating possessions, minimizing disappointments, or controlling outcomes. Abba, you began a work in us, creation, and history that you will complete.

   Third, your promises direct our gaze away from ourselves to Jesus. For Jesus is the emphatic “Yes!” to every promise you ever made (2 Cor.1:20), He is the point, basis, guarantee, and goal of all your promises. This means we will never over love Jesus, be too in awe of him, or too passionate for his glory. May it be, Father, may it increasingly be so. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, on this April Friday, we are grateful for your non-stop commitment to work in all things for our good and every storyline for your glory—no exceptions. You are never shocked, stumped, or taken by surprise. You aren’t just the Alpha and Omega, but every other Greek letter, nanosecond, and square inch in between. May we fear measurably less, as we trust you to do immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine.

Today our prayer lists contain all-sized requests, which we gladly bring to you, the God of all grace. Biggies, mid-size, and “trifles” matter to you because we matter to you. As this day begins, some of us are sitting in ER’s—a bit nervous, not knowing what we don’t know yet. May your peace rule as an umpire in our hearts as we, as you continue to rule over every cricket and crucible.

Some of us are navigating changes and transitions we didn’t see coming. Keep us from resentment and shame. Others are wondering how the wedding will play out this weekend when all four sides of the family—not just two, show up. Have mercy on us, Abba!

Then there are those of us in “prom” and graduation season—helping our just-yesterday’s toddlers with the vulnerabilities of romance, college stuff, and “launching” prep. How’d that happen so quickly, Father?

Our lists are longer because your heart is bigger. You know our loved ones whose salvation we doubt; our friends with chronic suffering for whom we crave nothing short of a miracle; and the things we have going on inside of us which feel both sad and mad. You gave Jesus to us and for us. Thank you. We can, and we will, trust you.  So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, the tenses and implications of your love for us are stunning, liberating, and transforming. The past tense of your loves reaches back into eternity and was boldly demonstrated at the cross. The present tense of your love is unwavering and never ending. The implications of your love? It’s hard to drink in the reality of us already being freed from the penalty of sin, the power of sin—and one Day, the very presence of sin. Only topping that is to realize you love us to the same degree, and with the same delight, as the Father loves you. Hallelujah, and thank you.

No wonder you command us to “abide” in your love—to make your love our permanent address, the air we breathe, the bread we consume, the sheets between we sleep. What a fabulous address… “777 Jesus’ Steadfast Love”—the grace-haven where we can play, pray, process heartache, prostrate ourselves in adoring love, and pursue deeper fellowship with you.

But we can just as easily choose (or default) to reside rent free in our fears, resentment, regrets, foolishness, comparisons, unbelief, anger, envy—and many other “addresses” The front-end rent may be free in these various “abodes,” but the eventual cost is heart-cancer and death to faith, hope, and love. Jesus, since your love is “better than life” itself, we choose to marinate, linger, abide, live, work, and play right there. Thank you. So VERY Amen.

Lord Jesus, this is an undeniable fact. The older we get, the more we need (and will need) friendships shaped and saturated with the Gospel. That is, friendships we build by grace and by growing in your truth, goodness, and beauty.

Golfing buddies and travel-adventure friendships are fun. Yoga-and-Yogurt groups, dessert-sampling fellowships, book reading clubs, fly-tying pals… all can be sweet and awesome gifts. But “building each other up in our most holy faith” is better by far—I’d say, essential. It’s very possible to “hide” in Bible Study Fellowship groups, or “Christian” this, that, or other things. Building each other up in the faith involves the sharing of heart and life, not just space and notes.

The devil has lost us for eternity, so he is constantly attempting to diminish and destroy our love for you, Jesus (2Cor.11:1-3). And, secondly, he loves to busy us with friendships that are “vanilla,” “meh,” superficial,  and too safe.

Predictably, each of us will go through seasons of heart-hurting challenges and the atrophy of our bodies and energy. But plate-spinning, busyness, and parenting never end. And fears of “have I done enough, do we have enough” take over. We really do need each other, Jesus. As an introvert, I have to work hard at being present in grace-marinating friendships. As an unglorified believer, it truly is essential. This is true for all of us, no matter our temperament, people-bandwidth, or number of acquaintances.

Aloneness is an option, but a bad and destructive one. So Jesus, first and foremost, restore to us the joy of knowing you and being loved by you. Be our passion and delight—our treasure and everything. If that’s never happened, make it so. Then help us make Gospel-friendships central, not peripheral. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, thank you for rescuing us from the silly (arrogant) illusion that we could work our way into your family and earn our way into your love… finally, eke across the finish line into heaven? What a low view of our need and pathetic understanding of your provision in the Gospel.

And where did we ever get the notion we control your emotional world and bodily expressions? Really? We can make you smile, frown, scowl, smirk, cross your arms, roll your eyes, and/or applaud? That sounds more like a coach looking for a performance, than a Father who has lavished his love on us (1Jn3:1-3).

It’s not that you’re indifferent or robotic. Just the opposite, for your love for us is steadfast and unwavering—even when Fatherly discipline comes into play. Our salvation is a work you began (Jonah 2:9), keep going (Phil.2:13), and will finish with a flourish (Phil.1:6). Hallelujah, and thank you!

Since “pleasing you” is best understood as “honoring you”—not making you happy, we want to spend the rest of our lives honoring you—honoring you by:

Gratitude expressing itself in worship (Luke 7:37-38).

Faith expressing itself in love (Gal.5:6).

Grace expressing itself in kindness (Eph.4:32).

Contentment expressing itself in generosity (Phil.4:12-13).

Hope expressing itself in mission (Matt.25:31-40).

Abba, whether we have 5 days, 5 months, 5 years, or 5 decades before we come Home… give us great freedom and joy in honoring you. You can’t delight in us more, but we can serve you with way more

Dear Lord Jesus, folklore and fantasies abound about the meaning of a total solar eclipse. But apart from the fables and superstitions, many who experience the phenomenon of a full, or even partial eclipse of the sun, can become overtaken by fear, anxiety, and disorientation. That’s understandable, because we depend upon the sun for so much—a lot of which we take for granted.

10,000 times more so, how much “truer” is that about you, Jesus. You are the Son who created the sun. Your radiance is that of God himself—for you are fully God—“the exact representation of his being.” We depend on you for everything, for you were our Creator before you became our Redeemer. To experience an “eclipse of the Son” is to contradict our reason for being. You are the “light of the world” and the only resolution to every form of darkness.

So how can you get “eclipsed” in our lives, Jesus? Sometimes it’s as simple (tragic) as putting any number of things between us and you. The treasures of the world and the approval of mere people stand out as “moons” that can hide you, the Son. Other times hard providences, painful stories, or “darkness veils your lovely face”—as we sing in “My Hope Is Built on Nothing Less.” That’s when we learn to trust in “your unchanging grace” and the “anchor” that holds us in the storm.

Jesus, from our own foolishness, the stratagems of the enemy, residual unbelief, bad theology, or whatever, please free us from every form of “Son-eclipse.”  We want to see, know, and love you with everything we have and are. So Very Amen.

Dear Lord Jesus, how fitting, awesome, and encouraging—the entire Bible, concludes with these three affirmations: 1. You are coming “soon.” 2. We “Amen!”, crave, and rejoice in the arrival of that Day more than any other. 3. Until the perfectly timed moment of your return, you won’t just give us “hang-on-grace,” but grace to thrive, grace to become more like you, grace to live and love to your glory. Thank you… Hallelujah, and thank you.

I used to be troubled by the promise of the “soon-ness” of your return—as though “soon” had to mean pretty soon after you gave me the gift of knowing you in 1968. Then I thought of it as a “metaphor” for the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. I now rest in the trustworthiness of your heart, the beauty of your plan, and the perfection of your timing.

Jesus, you aren’t slow in keeping your promises—not any of them, including your second coming. The calendar of mercy and grace measures time differently than we do—1000 years are like a day, and vice versa (2 Pet.3:8-9). I now understand “soon” to mean “certainly.” And along with your whole church, I “look forward to the new heaven and new earth you have promised, a world filled with God’s righteousness” (Rev.21:1-22:6).

Until that Day, hope—life in you and life on mission—is the order, privilege, and calling of this and every day. In your name, loving and serving whoever is in front of us; and for your glory, showing and telling the Gospel until the Day of all things new. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Self-Awareness –Jesus, what am I not seeing when I look in the mirror? How do I make it difficult for friends, family, and co-workers to give me feedback? The tension-temperature seems to rise when I enter the room. Maybe it’s not about others growing up, but me getting low. Jesus, dare I pray it? Yep… humble me Lord.

Grateful Healed Leper – Abba, I’ve been too busy to say thank you lately—too “familiar” with the Gospel and Gospel-speak to really feel and be grateful. That’s a scary place, so on this April Saturday, I’m reversing the drift. Thank you for loving me as much as you love Jesus. Thank you for beginning a work in me you will complete. Thank you for making Jesus my righteousness, holiness, and redemption. Make that more real than anything else in my life.

Repentance – Father, forgive me for indulging such a bad attitude this week. I’ve been irritated and critical, and I even tried to convince myself it was justified. It’s not. I know you love me and that you’re in control. Thank you for your kindness. I’m a mess grateful for your mercy. Gentle my snarky heart.

Prodigal Child – Father, please bring my prodigal daughter (or son) back home. I hate the thought of her being completely broken, but if that’s what it takes to bring her to yourself, do whatever you must. I see and grieve my self-righteousness and controlling ways, and I’m sure I made it easier for her to run away. Help both of us, Lord. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

Pained Heart – Jesus, my heart hurts. A good friend just moved away and I’m tired of transitions and changes in my life. I long for the Day of no more goodbyes. Hasten that Day, Lord; make it sooner than later. Amen

Sickness – God, I’m sick of being sick. It makes me sad for my family. No one is complaining but me, but it’s just not right. How long, O Lord? I’m not shaking my fists at you; I just want some relief. Please heal me, to whatever degree possible, or at least give me some of the sufficient grace you gave Paul. .

Done – Father, I’m done with church, Christians trying to fix me, and me trying to be spiritual. I just want to go away, be by myself, and get a new story. Why bother? I don’t really see change in my life, and you confuse me. I’m not tempting you. I just want you to know I feel like Jonah, but I really don’t want to become whale vomit. I’m a mess, Father. My only hope is that you love messes.

So Very Amen

Thankfulness – Lord Jesus, in view of everything you’ve done for me in the Gospel, and are to me as my living Savior, I am rich and loved beyond imagination and measure. That’s exactly the point; help me keep you clearly in view today. My eyes and heart drift. Dazzle me with yourself, Jesus.

Temptation – Father, I’m tempted to do something foolish right now. I feel alone, hurt, and forgotten. I feel too weak to resist. All I know to do is collapse on Jesus right now. Receive me and strengthen me. Save me from me.

Playfulness – Holy Spirit, where did my joy go? What squeezed playfulness out of my life? I’d love a season of “growing down,” because I’m tired of growing up. Put a smile back on my heart. Help me remember how to skip.

Failure – Abba, I did it again; and for what feels like the 10,000^th time. I’m not asking for a second chance, but for more of Jesus. I’m so tired of fighting this same battle. Do what you must to change and free me. What friends can I trust with my struggle?

Neighbor Love – Jesus, I saw you at work today in a visit with my neighbor. I still don’t know what she thinks about you, but thank you we met in our brokenness and shared weakness. Please reveal yourself to my friend. Draw her to yourself. Help me to love her well.

Darkness – Father, a veil of fear has fallen over my heart, and I’m having a hard time seeing your hand in my circumstances. Please meet me in this dark hole. I love you. I trust you. I need you, Lord.

Forgiving – God, I don’t want to forgive. I don’t want to let go of the hurt and anger. I still want the satisfaction of revenge. I’m not proud of any of this; I simply want to acknowledge what you already know. Help me, Lord. I know you’ve forgiven me, but I’m afraid to forgive. Help me, Abba..

Renewal – Holy Spirit, fill me with a fresh love for Jesus, and delight in him. I still believe the lyrics of the Gospel, but I’ve lost its music. Thaw my chilled heart. Overwhelm me, afresh, with the beauty and goodness of Jesus.

So Very Amen

Anytime, Anywhere, Any Issue, Any Length Prayers

Confused

Lord Jesus, I don’t know what’s going on inside my heart in this moment. Please center and settle me. I feel confused, weary, and anxious. I hate not knowing what’s next, what to do, and when things might change. Be my peace, take my hand, and lead the way forward.

Facing a Decision

Abba, I have to make this decision sooner than I had hoped. I feel more uncertain than ever about what’s best. Please open doors I can’t shut, and shut doors I can’t open. Guide my steps. Help me trust you more than my decision.

Conflicted

Father of mercies and God of all comfort, please be both of those to me in the coming hours. I’m not sure if I’m more sad or mad. You know my heart, and you know all the details. Bring peace even before you stop the storm.

Children

Jesus, grab the hearts of my children. Make your grace irresistible to them. More than anything else, I want my kids to know you, love you, and serve you. Parenting is exhausting, Jesus.

Marriage

Holy Spirit, please do something fresh in our marriage. I feel lonely, and I’m growing resentful. We’re bored and boring. I want to run away, but I choose to run to you. Please help us. Humble me, gentle me, grace me.

Gratitude

Dear Jesus, thank you for the colors blue and green, the aroma of tangerines, the texture of cheesecake, the sound of waves, the gift of conversation. Please heighten my senses to see your beauty in the Gospel, and everywhere else.

Insomnia

Father, help me and my sleep-light and sleepless friends. Age, stress, bad habits, something else… whatever the cause, give us the rest we need. I will never take the gift of sleep for granted again. Thank you, Lord.

So Very Amen

Heavenly Father, a prayer about kindness needs to start with some. I don’t know what was going on, the backstory in play, the details, or circumstances—but witnessing a public shaming, demeaning, and emotional thrashing in a mall parking lot was a wake-up call. Abba, I may never be that loud, but when my heart gets that angry, please intervene. Keep me (us) unavoidably alive to how you relate to us in Jesus.

As today’s Scripture reminds us, your tenderheartedness and kindness towards us are constant, immeasurable, and always needed. Abba, we want to love others as you love us in Jesus, period—no qualifiers, fine print, “Yes, but’s,” or exceptions. You call us to be “tender-hearted”—not touchy-hearted. You will never shower us with contempt. You will convict us, but never shame us. As with Jonah, you do use severe mercy at times—and it can be severe, but it’s always mercy.

Keep us emotionally self-aware. And when we step into the rawness of people’s difficult day, old wounds, current triggers, or sleepless nights… give us your patience, forbearance, and understanding. Give us long fuses and short memories when it comes to the imperfections and brokenness of others.

Oh Abba… make the Gospel, Jesus’ empty cross, your unwavering kindness, and the occupied throne of grace the most defining and delighting realities in our lives. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, there’s no form of spiritual warfare more effective than gratitude. And just two days on this side of our Easter celebration, the embers of our thankfulness are still Spirit-hot. Thank you for the “inexpressible gift” of the Gospel (2Cor.9:15). By your doing, not ours, we are forgiven of all sin and robed in your perfect righteousness—deeply rooted in your love and firmly standing in your grace; sealed by the Spirit and Abba’s beloved kids.

We’re also grateful for the “creature comforts” we tend to take for granted—like clothing, shelter, a comfortable bed, and ample food. And by your creative and generous heart, we also enjoy a kaleidoscope of “creature joys”—like good friends and the beauty of creation; our kids, “grands,” and pets. Then there’s fly fishing (or any kind of fishing!), the world of the arts, travel, culinary delights, and college basketball.

Speaking of which, Jesus, though there are two great Final Four’s underway in April 2024, here’s the Final Four for which we’re most grateful: 1. Jesus, you are joyfully reigning and will return on the perfectly-timed Day to finish making all things new. 2. We will be totally whole and healed, completely like you, unable to ever sin again (Hallelujah). 3. The earth will be empty of evil and brokenness, and filled with God’s glory and beauty. 4. As your every-nation, impossible to count Bride, we will inhabit the new heaven and new earth—enjoying the fullness of perfect peace, Gospel-astonishment, never-ending creativity, unfettered joy, perfect relationships—and it will only get better forever. Hallelujah, and So VERY Amen!

Lord Jesus, I easily identify with the “slow-hearted” gang on the road to Emmaus. I’m often slow to believe, quick to forget, and remain in constant need of the Spirit’s ministry. Humbly and gladly, I ask you to do for me what you did for them. Let me see you everywhere in the Bible, Jesus—its point and pinnacle, heartbeat and hero, the “bottom line” of every line of Scripture.

You’re not the “moral to every story” in God’s Word; you’re its meaning and magnificence—the emphatic “Yes!” to every promise God made from Genesis 3:15 through the end of the book of Revelation. After this post-resurrection visit, there were many more. Within weeks you ascended to Abba’s right hand; and you didn’t sit down for a rest, but for a “reign.” Heaven’s throne is your chair and evil is your footstool (Acts 2:35;1Jn.3:8).

Right now, April 1, 2024, you are making all things new and beautiful—where we see it, and where the evil seems to be winning. Jesus, we affirm your sovereignty over every sorrow and star, heartache and hiccup, snail darter and nuclear arsenal. Faith, not fear, is the order of this and every day—worship, not worry—adoration, not anxiety. Until you return, Jesus, may living “in Christ on mission” be our raison d’etre—our reason for being, our “kit and caboodle,” “whole shebang,” passion and delight. So Very Amen.

He is risen, Hallelujah! Jesus is risen indeed! … Oh resurrected and reigning Lord Jesus, we join Peter’s exuberant declaration of grateful worship and living hope. Because you were raised, we now live in God’s constant favor and unwavering delight. For you are our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1 Cor.1:30). We cannot be more loved. We cannot be more saved. We cannot be more yours. Hallelujah!

Jesus, you are the firstfruits and fulfillment of every promise God has made—Abba’s loud and unequivocal “Yes!” The “new creation” world of salvation, healing, and restoration has now broken into history and, one Day, will come in fullness. “Everything sad will come untrue,” all things broken will be made new—the Garden of Eden will prove to have been just a beautiful hint and whisper of things to come.

Living hope now defines our future. Deep peace claims our hearts. The groaning we feel on the inside means we are pregnant with grace and glory—for you are being formed inside us, Jesus (Gal.4:19), and we are being made like you (Rom.8:28-29). When we see you as you are, we will be made fully like you (1Jn3:1-3). We are so ready for that Day.

Until then, you reign as King of kings and Lord of lords over all things everywhere. You are active in redeeming your every-nation bride, and are at work making all things new—even though much of your work remains hidden from our eyes.

Abba Father, has left nothing to chance, but all things to you, Jesus. Everything broken and sinful has an expiration date, but the date we most crave is the wedding and eternity we will share with you forever. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, as the sun rose the day after “Good Friday,” no one realized the most undeserved death would yield the most incalculable return. The priests and Pharisees had the Scriptures, but they had no clue. They feared your body being stolen more than they feared the God they claimed to worship. They wanted to kill the memory of you, not just the heart within your breast.

But hallelujah 10,000 times over, Lord Jesus…

Your forsakenness secured our belovedness.

Your “bruising” was the devil’s “crushing” (Gen.3:15)

Your fatal wounding guaranteed our everlasting healing.

Your death set in motion the death of all death (Rev.21:4)

Your “termination” purchased creation’s reconciliation (Col.1:20-21).

Your last words ”It is finished!” are the “Yes!” to every promise of God.

Your body, planted as a seed, will yield the garden-world of the new earth.

Oh silly, sinful men—they’d sooner hold back the rising of the sun than the rising of the Son. Resurrection Sunday was coming, and there was absolutely nothing they could do about it. The sad, stunned silence of Saturday would soon be shattered with the swelling, unfettered shouts of Sunday: “The Lord is risen! He is risen indeed!” So Very Amen

Lord Jesus, that you had to die for us isn’t at all “good.” But that you were glad to do so is “goodness” without parallel, generosity beyond measure, and love above all loves. No one could take your life from you—not an angry mob, legion of demons, or conspiracy of mere men.

You freely gave your life for us—not as a brave martyr to be remembered, but as God’s Lamb to be worshipped. Everything you endured, you endured for God’s glory and for our salvation. You disregarded the shame of the cross because you regarded us above yourself (Phil. 2:1-11). Oh Jesus, maybe we apprehend about 3% of what this actually means.

You took the judgment we deserved, and gave us the righteousness we could never earn. This is the Gospel—make it more real to us than ever. By the cross you crushed the devil once and for all (1Jn.3:8); and by the cross we are cherished now and forever. Hallelujah, and thank you. So what joy awaited you on the other side of the cross, Lord Jesus?

Most definitely, you looked forward to the joy of reuniting with your Father (John 17:5). And in time, the joy of ushering in the new heaven and new earth (Rev.21:1-22:6). But—wonder of wonders, having us as your beloved Bride is a great delight of yours we can barely imagine (Rev.19:6-9). We believe, help our unbelief. We love you, Jesus, but intensify our love more and more. So Very Amen.

Having shared eternal glory with the Father, you now showed measureless grace to your disciples—“the full extent of your love” (Jn.13:1 NIV 84). The humility you showed in washing their feet (Jn.13:2-17) was a preview of the glory of you washing their hearts. Stripped naked, publicly shamed, and nailed to the cross—what wondrous love is this, indeed.

“There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (Jn. 15:13)—that’s what you did for us, Jesus. “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world”—that’s who you are, the One who took their sin, our sin, my sin.

How then shall we respond? We don’t have to guess, and we can’t hear it too often: “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must”—(not might or may), “you must love one another” (Jn.13:34). The most important expression of our “getting” the Gospel is for us to love others as you have loved us. Have mercy on us, Jesus. Forgive us for not believing you love us as much as you actually do. Forgive us for making the most important expression of our discipleship optionable, debatable, negligible. Free us and change us. So Very Amen, we pray with awe and fresh humility.

Lord Jesus, some anniversaries we dare not forget, some we wish we could. One year ago today, evil’s hatred of beauty was on full display in Nashville. Shots were fired, shalom was shattered, sensibilities were desecrated, and little children and dear friends died. The terror and trauma still reverberate—sending different-sized and unpredictably-timed shock waves of grief, fear, and vulnerability.

Healing is underway, but until the Day of wiped tears and all things new, it will hurt. It’s supposed to hurt. Grieving is better than numbing, and deep lament honors you more than calloused hearts. Jesus, thank youy for the gift of mourning, even as we long for the morning of eternal dancing and garments of joy (Psalm 30:11-12).

Today we pray for those most deeply impacted—for children, families, the faculty, and our friends. There’s no scorecard or timetable for measuring “doing better.” There’s you, Jesus, a calendar of grace, and our calling to bear one another’s burdens. Grant all of us heaven-crafted grace for a day like this.

It’s not lost on us that this “anniversary” falls right in the middle of “Easter Week.” So along with our deep lament, ignite and fuel defiant hope, Jesus. Evil doesn’t get the last word, you do. Evil doesn’t win, you did. You have publicly shamed evil, and you will totally eradicate it. And on the Day you wipe our anguished tears, you will redeem the pain behind each tear. Thank you, Jesus, thank you… So Very Amen.