rebuild: how we heal, protect, and recover

We never need someone’s permission to do the right thing. Seems like that should be obvious, but apathy and cowardice and destruction hide behind many doors, and “I’m not allowed to” is sometimes one of them.

rebuild: how we heal, protect, and recover | Shannon Guerra

Years ago when the Matanuska River was flooding its banks and the local government was dinking around with bureaucratic red tape, we watched a house a few doors down from my grandma’s tip into the river as the water ate up the ground underneath it and then proceeded to slowly swallow the house as it floated toward the Knik Arm.

It was 1991. The edge of the river moved closer to her house every day, and if nothing happened by the time it got to her property line it would be too late, because that was a mere hundred feet from the foundation of her house. So while those “in power” did nothing (and does that mean they’re really in power at all?) my dad and uncles dropped concrete slabs down the embankment to shore up the side, deterring the rapid erosion. They saved her house, and probably several others downriver, before a series of dykes were installed to keep the Matanuska in check.

So now it’s 33 years later, and in another rural part of the country we have a much bigger problem:

People are stranded in disaster areas without food, water, or fuel, and institutions and government blowhards who are supposed to help are confiscating supplies, and clearly up to something else.

[Warning: Many of these videos I’ve linked have language and other details you will not want to play around your kids. But adults need to hear it – we’re not sugar; we won’t melt.]

Citizens try to help but are blocked by government officials and threatened with arrest. Government resources are grounded instead of helping…but that doesn’t stop them from taking credit for what civilians are doing on their own.

People were dying as a senile “president” flew over, blocking air traffic from those trying to deliver supplies, undoubtedly causing more deaths from the delay.

If all this sounds unbelievable to you and you think things are fine, you need to turn off your TV and stop listening to people who are paid to lie to you, and start listening to real people. Like here. And here. And here.

A government who sent billions of dollars across the world to foreign nations now says there’s nothing left to give to citizens, but then releases a meager $750 via the flick of a middle finger to Americans who’ve lost everything.

What is happening?

If you were paying attention to what happened in Maui, you probably already know.

So…abhorrent, dire conditions in our own country. I sit here, far away in Southcentral Alaska, at my desk and on the couch and at the kitchen table with my family, remote from it all and yet hyperaware that Alaska has its own vulnerabilities and enemies, foreign and domestic. Wherever you are in America, you do, too.

But what can we do?

With such need, and corruption, and distance, what can we do that goes beyond mailing a check? How do we help, how do we resist, and how do we protect our own communities?

And I looked and arose and said to the nobles and to the officials and to the rest of the people, “Do not be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight for your brothers, your sons, your daughters, your wives, and your homes.”

– Nehemiah 4:14

We create a life out of slow, single days, tiny beads on a string, and one event can wipe it all out. I look around, and everything I do is slow work: Growing food is slow, raising poultry is slow, writing is slow. Parenting and teaching and healing is slow. Supporting small businesses and strengthening families is slow.

It is easy to get bogged down looking too close at my own inabilities, and despair. The needs are immediate, relief needed right now. And we don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But we must not capitulate to the enemy’s ploy to make us feel powerless and helpless.

Prayer is fast. Miracles are fast, and they’re needed right now.

Prayer reaches across the distance and touches people at the speed of thought, bringing supernatural protection and favor and wisdom and guidance. We don’t know the details and most of us can’t get there, but God does and can, and is there.

Prayer doesn’t care about the mocking, scoffing, spitting, disbelieving. Let them berate and see how much peace they find from their ignorant faithlessness. It doesn’t care about permission or blowhards or red tape; it soars right over, blasts right through, the agreement with God’s goodness releasing His power to change situations, to create something out of nothing, to lead those who don’t know where to go or where to look, to draw water from the rock.

So there’s that, and it’s definitely something.

I had a long conversation with one of our kids about all these events, and why we do what we do – why we shop certain places and avoid others, why we spend time learning and teaching things that aren’t on a curriculum. You can’t go wrong in learning about prayer, healing, security, and food, I told her. All we can do is the thing God’s telling us to right now, today, in this moment.

For example, when you learn about healing, you learn that there are four stages to it: hemostasis (stopping the bleeding), inflammation (scabbing over), rebuilding, and strengthening.

What strikes me about this is that none of it is done in isolation: At first, the closest blood cells come together to clot and protect the wound. But then, white blood cells and oxygen come in. Then red blood cells come in, helping to rebuild new tissue.

We have a huge gash in our Southeastern states right now, and the process of stopping the bleeding, clotting, and protection is in full force thanks to those who didn’t wait for permission to do the right thing. Meanwhile, those of us holding down the fort in other areas do well to strengthen our immediate surroundings, to fight against the attempts to obliterate our communities and culture. We don’t know when our own tissue could be injured, or our red blood cells called in to reinforce healing needed nearby.

When all else fails and you are overwhelmed, unsure of what to do or prioritize, look at the core strengthening things. What foundations need shored up? What relationship needs some extra time, or just an extra hug? What small task is going to bolster your day tomorrow? Do you need an extra hour of sleep, an extra glass of water? We can get so focused on the big things that we forget the little things until they turn into big things we could’ve prevented.

And the effect of righteousness will be peace, and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever. My people will abide in a peaceful habitation, in secure dwellings, and in quiet resting places.

— Isaiah 32:17-18

There are so many voices out there. Many of them are good and true. But we still need to be quiet, to stop scrolling for a while, and listen for Him to speak specifically to us, just to us, in the quiet.

It’s important to starve the voices that aren’t true. We have to prioritize who we give the microphone to in our lives. We can turn the volume down on the excess noise in our society by trimming the amount of time we scroll.

We can’t go wrong in reaching out, making stronger connections, hugging the prickly kid, texting the distant kid, feeding more broth and tea to the sick kid. We can read good books, pray for our neighbors, grow and cook real food, memorize Scripture, learn new skills. We can repair rather than replace, create more and consume less. We can smile and talk with the person in line at the grocery store or post office. We can filter our media consumption, and prioritize what gives life, beauty, joy, and wisdom.

We will probably never regret doing things like deep cleaning our kitchen, taking flowers to a friend, or spending an extra few minutes talking with our kids at bedtime.

These are the things that bring oxygen, that create healing, that prevent injury and sickness, that declare to the world, We are building Kingdom culture and we have no intention of stopping. Where it’s damaged and hurting, we will rebuild and reinforce and strengthen, and as many times as it is wounded, we will keep rebuilding, and won’t wait for paperwork to go through or for bureaucrats to finish dinking around or for a government blowhard to give us the green light.

We are Kingdom people; we live in the green light, and we will keep moving forward.

We don’t need anyone’s permission to love our neighbor. We don’t need the government’s permission to protect our families or build and strengthen our culture. We just need to do it.

know who you’re dealing with: the Kingdom’s response to insecurity

When I come here to write to you, I often don’t know exactly what I’m going to say. I usually have a bunch of notes (sometimes way too many) and a theme (also, sometimes too many), and the first step is to do some sorting. Then fleshing out. And then refining.

It’s not a clean, pretty process. It usually involves some wailing and gnashing of teeth, a little yelling at the laptop, and lots of prayer and coffee.

know who you're dealing with: the Kingdom's response to insecurity

Today I’m looking at a document of 2418 words and counting. That’s usually too long for a post, so I have it separated into two themes (hence, two posts), and here I am, writing the intro to one of those posts at the top of the document. So far, so good.

But there’s a ton of shuffling and rearranging to do. A lot of truth to find, and some unnecessary content to sift out. Figuring out what I’m really dealing with and what He really wants to say through me can be quite an ordeal.

And as we mature and grow in the Lord, this is what He does with us, too – because life is a journey of learning who (and Who) we’re dealing with.

(Side note: Yes, I know grammatically it should be “whom” but that sounds dorky and when I wrote a chapter on this in Oh My Soul, I intentionally used the more familiar phrasing rather than the stuffy-sounding correct version. So that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)

As I was saying, there’s a lot about the writing process that reflects God’s work in us. And sometimes the stuffiest among (amongst?) us need the most work. Sometimes we’re so consumed with being right that we forget He is our righteousness.

For example, often when pastors or writers talk about God’s goodness, they feel the need to point out they’re not preaching a prosperity gospel. They don’t want to be seen as “those people.” But why does insecurity drive us to such defensiveness and finger pointing? Why do we need to qualify or apologize for God’s goodness? If we really understood how much God loved us, and we felt secure in that love (that is, knew Who and who we’re dealing with), we wouldn’t act out of such insecurity.

Sometimes God’s people can be the biggest accusers, and the most ungentle. When we don’t know our identity we confuse ourselves with God and act like the devil, judging and accusing everyone around us. But at the same time, we’re afraid to be on the receiving end of either of those, so we try to nip it in the bud by saying we shouldn’t be lumped in with “those people” – whoever “those people” are.

It’s an easy trap to fall into when critical thoughts are the loudest in our minds, whether they’re directed at ourselves or others. Those thoughts take the veil that was torn and carefully sew it back up, keeping that intrusive, all-seeing light safely on the other side so we don’t feel exposed. Stay over there. Don’t get too close, I don’t want you to really see me.

But if we really understood how much God loved us, we wouldn’t act out of insecurity. We wouldn’t need to build up our ego or protect our fragile facades; we would know that God already sees and knows, and we would walk in the ways of the One who did not revile when reviled because He knew He had nothing to prove. This is a big reason why we’re told not to cast our pearls before swine…because sometimes people act like swine when they don’t know their identity yet.

It’s easy to find those who are secure in their identity: They’re the ones who aren’t being defensive, even when accused by the brethren. (And who is the accuser of the brethren? Not someone we should be emulating or partnering with.)

If the enemy can convince us that other people in God’s family are our enemies and we are manipulated into treating each other that way, we forget who the real enemy is. We walk with a veil over our eyes, misdirecting our attack at each other instead of at the real enemy, and we end up doing his work.

The righteousness of our culture is at stake, not because we go around shaking our fingers at others (or ourselves) in condemnation, but because when we hear and share His words, we are pointing our finger toward the One who saved us. When we do that, we are poking holes in the canopy and light pours through, pressing into dark areas that have been filled with pain. Clouds disperse, answers and clarity start emerging. This is the security of Kingdom culture.

In the Bible, Jesus was constantly poking holes in those shrouds of insecurity, and He didn’t do it in the most predictable ways, either. Let’s look:

And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.” But he did not answer her a word.

And his disciples came and begged him, saying, “Send her away, for she is crying out after us.”

He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”

– Matthew 15:21-24

Notice two things here: First, Jesus is answering the disciples, not the woman. Second, He’s not doing what they told Him to do.

They want Him to send her away – Look, Lord, this woman is making a scene and she shouldn’t even be talking to you – and He quietly poses the conflict to them, and you see the parallel of the Great Commission here: We start in Judea, then Samaria, and then to the ends of the earth. It was less about class and more about proximity and identity, because there is no favoritism with God.

Also, keep in mind that this passage comes immediately after His teaching on what really defiles a person: It’s not what goes in (like culturally acceptable food and traditions) but what comes out of the heart.

“But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this defiles a person. For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person. But to eat with unwashed hands does not defile anyone.”

– Matthew 15:18-20

So Jesus doesn’t send her away, and she comes closer in verse 25:

But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.”

And then Jesus does something He’s really good at doing, which is defying cultural expectations. He speaks to her. And here’s what He says in verse 26:

And he answered, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”

Okay, wait wait wait – I know you’re reading this and thinking, Wow, harsh and rude. It does sound that way. I’ve read some terrible commentaries that even declare that this is Jesus “putting the woman in her place” even though that is inconsistent with Scripture and it flies in the face of both the rest of this passage and His ministry.

Look at what is juxtaposed here: Jesus is speaking to her, while repeating the cultural attitudes that He and the woman were both familiar with. I don’t think He was calling her a dog – I think He was challenging the cultural attitudes, and testing her to see if she believed them. This is what the world says about you. Do you follow the world, or do you believe in Me? Do you know Who (and who) you’re dealing with?

With that in mind, His tone sounds like He’s quoting a common saying and He wants to see what her response is to it.

She passes that test beautifully:

She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Then Jesus answered her, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.” And her daughter was healed instantly.

– Matthew 15:27-28

He does it again. Defying cultural expectations, He praises her, and then rewards her. There are only a handful of times in the New Testament when we see Jesus astonished at someone’s faith, and this is one of them.

Similar to when He asked Peter “But who do you say that I am?” Jesus is asking her, Do you believe Me, or the world we’re living in? Which viewpoint do you value most? And she responds with faith in His goodness in spite of norms and common errors, and she knew He had abundance. She knew He wasn’t limited to cultural traditions and insecurities, and that she didn’t have to be, either.

Her story would have turned out differently if she had believed what was trendy. If she thought less of herself, or if she had thought less of Him, or if she was afraid to make a scene, or she was insecure about what other people might think, her daughter would have remained in torment. And she would’ve lived beneath her identity, too.

But she knew who, and Who, she was dealing with. She wasn’t intimidated by wagging fingers and condescending judgment of those around her…and we shouldn’t be, either.

His proximity burns off chaff, in us and in others: the clique-y ladies in church, the young man who always seems grumpy, the girl who comes off a little too strong in her opinions, the kid who holds back in smiling and emanates awkwardness…and even the woman who sits at the computer and wrestles with how her words will be understood by her readers.

The veil is close and we don’t even recognize these things about us half the time. The other half of the time, we know there’s something smothering us but we can’t quite identify what it is or why we do it or how to fix it.

But the Lord knows the roots behind these, and He knows how to heal and resolve them. We don’t have to strive and scour the depths of the unknown to fix ourselves.

We just need to be in proximity to the fire so He can do His work – and we can bring that fire for others in gentle power (which is what meekness is) and know He’s bringing healing and wholeness to our communities as we do it.

first things, part three: why we gather

A little over a year ago I walked into a living room almost entirely full of people I had never met before.

You know that meme that says “My fashion style can be summed up in the phrase ‘Did not plan on getting out of the car’”? That was me. I looked like I’d been tending chickens all day, and, uh, that was before we even had chickens.

first things, part three: why we gather -- Shannon Guerra

I hadn’t planned on getting out of the car because I was waiting for a kid to walk out to the car. I had been writing all day, so picture the Ultimate Introvert Writer Outfit complete with flannel and mismatched sweater, messy bun, and favorite ratty jeans; I’m sure it was all there. I hoped to walk in unnoticed and catch my kid’s eye, but instead everyone suddenly looked at me.

And then the leader asked me to introduce myself.

Oh, no.

“I’m…Ireland’s mom. I’m here to pick her up.” Oh Jesus, hide me, hide me now, all these people are looking at me and I don’t think I’m even wearing eyeliner.

“Oh! We love Ireland, welcome!” Smiles everywhere. Warmth. Eager acceptance. I immediately knew the Spirit was there, not just with me as I walked in, but already present and extremely active in the room. And it kindled something in me that I hadn’t realized I was so hungry for: A tribe of devoted people on mission together. Deeper roots in our community, and new growth after a year of changes and pruning.

As I type this, it’s fourteen months later. And for almost a year now our whole family has been going to this gathering together – yeah, all of us, awkward, delicate special needs and all, in a small, scary close environment – and we spend at least six evenings a month with these guys in worship, prayer, teaching, fellowship, and ministering to each other. (And also, we finally own chickens. My fashion has not changed, but now at least I have better excuses.)

But why do we bother? We have another church we go to on Sundays. Or, if it comes down to it, why bother with either? Why have Church, why devote the time and energy to gather at all?

Because gathering is one of the first, foundational things. We get fed when we gather. We become unified and stronger when we gather. And the Word gets out when we gather.

And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

– Hebrews 10:24-25

So what is Church? This question has been coming up a lot lately among readers, friends, and our church communities. It also came up recently in our monthly q&a and here’s a clip of that for you if you’re interested, and the transcript follows:

[Transcript: Most of you guys know we go to two different churches; one is a traditional Assembly of God on Sundays and the other is a home church with entirely different people. Two totally different experiences and communities, but lots of mutual friends and connections between them. Both are valuable. The big pulpit on Sunday is valuable to me because it brings unity to the message of the gospel and it brings clarity to the Word and how we apply it. I shared last Sunday’s sermon and our pastor didn’t hold anything back in talking about homosexuality, abortion, or transgender issues, but he did it in love and he did it without apology. This is what the church needs to hear. We need a unifying message that isn’t scared to apply what the Bible says to the events we’re facing right now.

Our small group is more discussion and worship oriented. We pray a lot and minister prophetically to each other. I’m not sure you can get the personalized depth of ministry in a large, normal church setting, but that doesn’t mean that those settings aren’t necessary. You can’t get as much of the large-reaching, unifying message in the small settings of only 20 or 30 people. Both have strengths. And I wouldn’t say that both have weaknesses, because I don’t think they’re designed to have the strengths that the other has. For example, it’s not a weakness of our hands that we can’t walk on them; they’re not made for that. Our hands are made for other things. It’s not a weakness of our feet that we can’t write with our toes. That’s not what our toes and our feet are generally made for. So its not a weakness of small groups that they can’t do what large services do, and it’s not a weakness of large services that they can’t usually minister to the level of personal depth that a home church or really good small group can do.

I think Church should look like it did in Acts – and we see different things there that aren’t all compatible in the same setting. We see them eating together, praying and healing. And we also see Peter and others speaking to huge crowds. We see exploits and danger; we see people willing to do hard and dangerous things. We see people learning to be honest, and facing the consequences of dishonesty. We see prophecy and miracles, we see travels and reunions, we see people transformed from persecutors and doers of witchcraft and everyday teachers into those who follow Jesus and expand His kingdom. We see arguments and accountability and resolution. We see conflicts and the mission carrying on in spite of them. We see persecution and freedom. We see government officials bewildered and curious.

And I think that’s what the church should look like.]

A few weeks ago we sat around the living room in our home church and this theme of first things came up. I came away from the conversation with two revelations.

The first was when a friend pointed out that one of the first things the Lord did was surrender. When He made us, He put us in the garden and surrendered His will over us by giving us free will. He gave us the ability to obey or disobey, to trust Him or try something else. He didn’t want a forced love from us, because that would be no love at all.

Right after that one of our pastors stunned me with the second revelation: “God’s first recorded words to humans were permission, not restriction. You may, He said.”

No way, what? I’d never noticed that, so I looked it up. (You should always check into what your pastor is saying. A good one won’t mind it; they will encourage it.) Here’s the verse, and it’s actually in Genesis 2:You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.”

For the record, God talks to humans in Genesis 1, also. Which seems like that would actually come first in the dialogue, but if you pay attention you’ll notice chapter 1 is a summary and chapter 2 begins a more detailed flashback of how God created man and woman. But this, too, was permissive, generous, and empowering. He says:

And God blessed them. And God said to them –

Wait a second. We don’t actually know the first words He said to them here, because it just says “He blessed them, and [then] said to them…” So the first thing was a blessing. And then He said:

“Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.”

– Genesis 2:28

And then in the next verse He says:

“Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is on the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit. You shall have them for food.”

– Genesis 2:29

God’s first words to humans were about how we are to be fed. And that’s interesting, because it’s also one of the main reasons we gather. A family grows when you feed it – and we’re not just talking about great potlucks.

But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil.

– Hebrews 5:14

We also become stronger and more unified when we gather. What is the point of the pulpit, or any platform? Communication. But not just any communication; we’re not getting up early on Sunday or devoting one of our evenings every week to listen to someone who just loves the sound of their own voice. We need truth, realignment, confirmation, and conviction. Boldness and clarity. Maturity and wholeness. And when those are preached, it brings solidarity and unity to our communities.

Because Presbyterians and Congregationalists and Quakers and Baptists and others all heard the same message and all were free to respond similarly, Americans were becoming united in the wake of [George Whitefield’s] nonstop preaching. People were being offered a new identity that fit well with the American way of thinking. Some were German by background and some were French and some were English, but none of it mattered: They were all equal under God; they were all Americans.

– Eric Metaxas, If You Can Keep It

How we express Biblical truth is also how we will express truth about current events, and people are hungry to hear it straight from fearless leadership who will dish the Word without watering it down.

For pastors, teachers, leaders, and anyone else with a platform, the time to decide has come: Will we speak boldly, regardless of where the chips might fall? Are we willing to rock the boat to speak truth in love, and to say what the Holy Spirit’s been talking to us about?

It’s not a one-and-done thing. Personally, the Lord keeps challenging me in new ways to not just go deeper in my own private thoughts and processing, but also to allow my public writing to reflect it. And it’s hard to know what to express publicly when you’re still sorting it out privately. I think that’s where a lot of pastors and other leaders have been over the past few years, but they don’t have time to stay at the crossroads. Their decision or lack of it will quickly put them into one of two camps: They will either choose to learn, repent, and grow in transparency before their audience or congregation, or they will waver, shrink back, and cave to pressure and the comfort zone. Whatever they decide will be on display for the world to see.

Events are happening faster than we can keep up with but we have got to take the time to sort things out in abiding, prayer, and quiet thinking so when the time comes for us to speak, our convictions are solidly set and we’re not wavering. We will either grow or stagnate; there’s no room for middle ground, buying time, and putting off public declarations of conviction.

Unity is hard to come by when we don’t know where leaders stand. But when we do, the body is a force to be reckoned with. Our church had zero harassment from the pro-choicers who went around disrupting local congregations on Sundays when Roe v. Wade was overturned. Maybe our church isn’t big enough to draw their attention; it definitely wasn’t because we’re soft on the prolife issue. Or maybe – I mean, maybe this is a just a coincidence, but just maybe it was the fact that around that same time, our elderly greeter who usually wears a hat that says HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY starting wearing a new one with an American flag, a gun, and the phrase “We don’t call 911” on it.

Solidarity, yo. Like I said: stronger together.

And the word gets out. Both our churches are growing in numbers, and dealing with the good problems that come along with higher attendance. We’re making an effort to adjust with excellence while not being slaves to perfectionism or analysis paralysis, because we worship the One who does all things well:

And they were astonished beyond measure, saying, “He has done all things well. He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.”

– Mark 7:37

We don’t gather to hibernate; we gather to grow. The prolific message has historically been the one with the most influence, and for half a century the church has been whispering in contrast to an enemy who’s had the bullhorn of every cultural sphere. (Don’t believe it’s been that long? It was sly at first. Look at your paycheck and find out how long ago it was that the government started removing part of it directly from people’s earnings. Hint: It was before World War 2…and World War 1.)

Are we too quiet? Are we too isolated? Because we need to be louder and be together, and if you didn’t pick up on it over the last few years, those values are in direct conflict with the agenda to mask and isolate people.

The most prolific message wins, and the odds in America have always in our favor. We just didn’t take advantage of them, and we abdicated the mic.

I’ve been reading about George Whitefield who changed the course of America before its founding, leading a revival as he preached twice a day and four times on Sunday, anywhere he could.

….but more than anything that would distinguish the faith of Whitefield and that would loft him into the empyrean realm of history changers was the simple fact that he was not too proud to go to people wherever they might be found. If the established churches would not receive him, he would like his master go out into the highways and byways; he would preach in prisons and anywhere else he might be received.

– Eric Metaxas, If You Can Keep It

Anywhere he might be received…have we given up too easily, Church?

….That what Whitefield set in motion has come to be known as the Great Awakening can hardly surprise us. For wherever he went – and he went everywhere – he preached and preached. And wherever he preached hundreds and thousands…came straggling to hear him and were changed by what he said. But it was not a mere mental assent to some theological doctrine. Many, like Benjamin Franklin, observed that people’s behavior changed. Church rolls swelled and those who had been merely filling pews on Sunday suddenly understood why they were there.

– Eric Metaxas, If You Can Keep It

We need to get the Word out – not as know it alls, but as those who can’t help sharing Who they’ve found and what they’ve seen. The quietness from the Church over the past decades reveals that the Church hasn’t actually found or seen that much to talk about.

But that time is over. Something new is happening.

The Church becomes like whatever it gazes at, and He wants our eyes on Him, personally and corporately. He is always first — not us, not our personal change, not our programs or works or even our repentance. Those are all natural occurrences after the one thing, which is seeing and loving and worshiping Him.

Then He will turn our gaze to the rest that He wants us to notice. And when we notice, we will preach from whatever pulpit He’s placed us in. It’s time to grab the mic again, Church. Pick up the pen. Gather and grow so the Word can get out. We are diamonds, catching His light and throwing it everywhere, but only because we gazed at Him first as He shined it upon us.


New to this series? Here’s part one and here’s part two.


P.S. Links for you this month!

  • Have you seen Jesus Revolution yet? We went last night and it was so good! Funny, real, passionate, great acting across the board, and no cheesiness whatsoever. The previews were the worst part of the whole experience (that’s a good time to take your middle schoolers to the bathroom). Highly recommend!
  • Gaining Ground update: We just started Return of the King last week and we’ll vote for the next round of books soon. Want in on this? Join us here for bookishness and memery as we get more books under our belts.
  • In a month of amazing sermons, here’s my favorite from February: one that many pastors are afraid to preach, and it was fire, and love, and boldness, and truth, no holds barred.
  • Want a unique piece of Alaska that you can wear? My friend started a new business and it’s amazing! Check out her work here – it would be super fun if you all depleted her inventory. ;)