Lord Jesus, we need this portion of your Word like oxygen and water. Without a heart of love, we are zeros, zilch, nada, empty, nothing. But this is the way you love us, and the way you are committed to love through us.

4 “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.” – Jesus, your patience is as limitless as your love is steadfast. Jesus, far from envying, you are lavish in your generosity. If you “boast,” you boast that we are yours, and there has never been one scintilla of pride in you—just incomparable humility of your incarnation and cross.

   5 “It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” – You only honor us and will never shame us. You only seek Abba’s glory, have taken the judgment our anger deserves, and have given us your record of perfect righteousness. Hallelujah, Jesus!

6 “Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth” – You delight in us, not in anything dark or evil—for you have come to eradicate all darkness and wickedness. And your rejoicing is full of truth, goodness, and beauty—because that is who you are.

  7 “It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” – No one protects us like you—even when we still feel vulnerable. You trust Abba on our behalf, for you are the Yes! to all his promises. We hope because you are our ever-living hope. We will persevere because you overcame for us, and will hold us fast all the way into the new heaven and new earth. Jesus, we love being loved by you. Love through us, to your glory. So Very Amen.

Father, right out of the worship-gate, I love the “will-ness” and assurance of these promises of our “already-and-not-yet.” You’re not describing things that might happen, but are underway and will happen in fullness. Hallelujah, and thank you. Nothing and no one will keep us from enjoying the fullness of the eternal life Jesus has won for us.

Through our union with Christ, we are already living in the kingdom of your dearly loved Son and the eternal year of your favor—in the rarified air of your delight and the perpetual embrace of your grace. This isn’t theological poetry, but the actual, absolute reality of your beloved children. The saints who have passed this life into the next are certainly more happy and whole than us, but they are not a tad more secure and loved.

The images of our coming life in the new heaven and new earth are simply staggering. A coronation of “everlasting joy”—what’s that going to be like, Abba? And we know what it feels like to be overtaken by guilt and shame, but we can hardly imagine being “chased down,” overtaken, and inundated by “gladness and joy.”

Abba, we also love the image of “sorrow and sighing” taking flight—vanquished and vaporized at Jesus’ return. Every tear will be wiped and our sighs will be replaced with shouts of unfiltered gratitude. Until that Day, thank you for being the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort (2Cor.1:3-4)—in the messes we’re in, the messes we make, and the mess that we are. So Very Amen.

“There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ” (Rom.8:1). “Because of Abba, you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness and sanctification and redemption” (1Cor.1:30).

Lord Jesus, hallelujah for the preposition “in.” It’s one we use all the time, as in “I’m in such a hurry.” Or “I’m in a messy situation.” Or “I’m in a gorgeous, trout-filled stream, flowing at a perfect 1.5-2.5 mph pace.”

But there’s never been, nor will there ever be, a most awesome use “in”” than when it’s describing the relationship we have with you. Through the Gospel, you have given us the most intimate, enriching, unbreakable relationship with yourself imaginable.

Jesus, help us see how our “in-Christ-ness” now defines us more than anything else. In union with you, we are forgiven, righteous, and beloved—because you are our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1Cor.1:30). To be “in Christ” means we’ve been called, are loved and will be kept by you all the way Home (Jude 1:1).

Hallelujah and thank you, for you have numbered our days, hairs, pains, and tears. You love us infinitely more than we love you, and are 10,000 times more excited about your return than we are. Oh, Jesus, free us, and help us “shake off our guilty fears,” dullness of heart, and our Gospel under-belief. We want to live more fully alive to the peace-giving, fear-toppling, hope-fueling realities of our “in-Christ-ness.” So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, we start this March weekend with a shout of gratitude, as we remember just how generous you are to us in the Gospel. When you gave us faith to trust Jesus as our Savior, you raised us from spiritual death, seated us in the heavenly places, and hid our lives in Christ. You declared Jesus’ righteousness to be ours, gave us eternal citizenship in heaven, and made good on your promise to give us a new heart. Hallelujah and thank you 10,000 times over!

You gave us a new heart on our spiritual-birthday—which I celebrate today (March 7, 1968). But our new heart will only become a fully perfected heart when Jesus returns to finish making all things new. Until then, we will need your steadfast love, daily mercies, transforming grace, and the work of your Spirit—all which you freely give us in the Gospel.

What am I most looking forward to about my new heart becoming a perfected heart? Abba, where do I start my very long list of answers? First and foremost, I will finally worship and adore you with everything I have and am. Along with each of your beloved children, we will see Jesus as he is and we will be made fully like him. It will be impossible for us to ever sin again, and only possible for us to love perfectly all the time.

Everything about us will be healthy, whole, and beautiful—mind, body, and spirit. Because you guarantee all of this awesomeness, Abba, we repent of our unbelief, ramp up our gratitude, and surrender afresh to our calling to grow in grace and know Jesus better and better (2Pet.3:18). Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, the circumstances vary but many of us, like your novice disciples, are facing overwhelming needs with underwhelming resources. If I was good at math (and I’m not), I might tell their story in this equation:

5000 family units + 12 rookie caregivers + 5 loaves and 2 fish = Jesus better show up and be big in this story.

Hallelujah, you did “show up” and you continue to do so in our stories. Many of us are experiencing overwhelming scenarios in different sectors of life—in business, relationships, ministry, healthcare, etc. As with the disciples in the hungry-crowd story, we can respond in a number of ways.

1. We can pretend to be omni-competent, and see the challenge as a chance to showcase our individual awesomeness, using other people as a means to get self-glory.
2. Or, like the disciples, we can get a bit “testy,” and tell you what to do, Jesus—as though you’re clueless, not “dialed in,” and need our suggestions.
3. We can humble ourselves, listen to you, and discover—yet again, that our weakness and inadequacy are good gifts, which drive us to the Gospel-Math of Jesus-dependence + Shared weakness + Mutual interdependence + Our “5 loaves and 2 fish” = Jesus is the only Hero, everybody contributes, and care is multiplied.

Jesus, thank you for writing us into your story, and for extending your compassion, care, and Kingdom to us and through us. We’ll leave being awesome to you. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, I come to you this morning with empty hands, not to grab what isn’t mine, but extended in dependence and surrender. Quite literally, you’ve got the whole world in your hands and you haven’t made me co-sovereign. And I gave up thinking of you as my co-pilot a long time ago.

That’s not to say I don’t crave control over unfinished stories, frayed edges of threadbare relationships, and resolution in matters that remain unsettled and triggerable. I do, Abba, you know I do. At times I want to trade places with you, with you being the clay and me getting to be the potter.

When I’m in “tired-of-waiting” mode and raw with the insecurity of not knowing what is next, I want to grab the pen with your initials on it, and write the next couple of scenes in my life. But, Father, only you are the Author, Middle, and Finisher—not just of our faith, but also of our stories.

When we take matters into our own hands, like Moses, we “take someone out” rather than waiting on you take us out of “Egypt” (Ex. 2:11-12). Or, like Abraham, we create Ishmaels instead of waiting for “Isaac” (Gen.16-17, 21). Or, like Esau, when we’re in a “hot mess,” we too easily settle for the immediate gratification of a bowl of hot stew (Gen.25:29-34). But, hallelujah, working in all things for our good and your glory is your specialty and guarantee. Thank you, Father. Grant us the grace of waiting and trusting. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, when we consider your great love for us in Jesus—and abide in it as our favorite resting place on earth, our fearful vexing, anxious wrangling, and self-preoccupied ways seem downright silly. Indeed, when we do the mercy-math, the riches of grace and the gift of intimacy with you far outweigh all the threats, harm, and exasperations of life. Help us with our math, Abba.

You gave Jesus up for us on the cross, so of course we can trust you for everything else we actually need. You created us, chose us, bought us, reconciled us, and delight in us. Who cares what anybody else thinks, says, or feels about us?

Forgive us for giving any other voice more power over our hearts than yours. Whether it’s the accusations of the devil or the meanness of men, the contempt of our shame or the flattery of the world—none of those deserve power over our hearts. Our hearts are your domain and delight, Abba, and you are gloriously greedy with them.

Through the hardest parts of life and the most joyful ones—in the crazy-making seasons and the oasis-like breathers—in the stories that test us and the relationships that break us… Abba, you love us as we are, will never abandon us, and will complete your work in us. Father, we praise, bless, and adore you. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, we’re all familiar with acrostics, such as RIP = Rest In Peace. Or TGIF = Thank God It’s Friday. Or FMO = Fear of Missing Out. But I hereby create a new one that might be tattoo worthy. EIHIY = Everything I Have Is Yours—5 words you spoke to a smug, self-righteous, heart-disconnected, beloved son of yours. Abba, no one loves like you. No one loves us like you.

As with the “older brother,” you ceaselessly confront our self-centeredness, Gospel-amnesia, and ingratitude. You say to us through the Scriptures: “My child, I love you with an incomparable, everlasting, unwavering love. Nothing can exhaust my mercies or deplete my grace for you. I don’t endure or “put up with you.” I greatly delight in you, am committed to quiet your heart with my love, and will never stop rejoicing over you” (Zeph.3:14-17). Abba, dismantle and expel our unbelief.

For everything that belongs to you, you have given us in the Gospel. Because you have hidden our lives in Christ, we have all the legal rights and personal delights of your firstborn Son, Jesus. We already possess the fullness of forgiveness, the righteousness of Christ, and a place in your family and heart.

And you haven’t just secured an inheritance for us (1Pet.1:3-5), you actually call us your inheritance (Eph.1:11). Our destiny is life in the new heaven and new earth, full Jesus-likeness, wiped tears, and redeemed pain. Thank you, Abba. Hallelujah for EIHIY, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, until the Day of all things new and everything beautiful, we live in a world of all things broken and everything unstable. But you are the one glorious exception. You are eternally changeless and timelessly present. You have never said, “I didn’t see that one coming.” For you created the beginning, rule the present, and fill the future. The implications of your “sameness” are liberating, peace giving, and life on mission fueling.

You are gloriously “same” in your love for us. Your love never peaks or dives, waxes or wanes. Jesus, this doesn’t mean you are passive or indifferent. It means you are perfect and passionate in your affection. We never need fear disappointing you. We don’t have to doubt what you think about us. We can live free from the silly notion that we can put a bigger smile on your face. You already delight in us and love us as much as our Father loves you. How can we possibly add to that?

You are powerfully “same” in your sovereignty over all things. Nothing is random in this world, catches you off guard, or is “above your pay grade.” You reign over kings, keep gravity happening, and control the temperature of the earth’s core. You give babies and dolphin their smiles. You gave Mozart and the Beatles their melodies. And on the perfect Day, you will fill the earth with your grace and glory. Hallelujah, and thank you.

   Even before that Day—and in fullness on that Day, we will see how our hardest stories, most painful loses, and our deepest wounds have been the theatre of your mercy, grace, and redemption. May your “never-changing-ness” become the sheets between we sleep each night, our everyday-feast, and the soundtrack for our life on mission. So Very Amen.

“I will never stop doing good to them … I will rejoice in doing good to them and will assuredly plant them in this land with all my heart and soul.” Jer.32:40-41

Lord Jesus, I’m starting my day in Billings, Montana, with a group of your beloved people, who will soon ponder all the beauty, joy and hope you have crammed into these Scriptures. By your Spirit, help us realize these promises are to be taken at face and faith value. You really are this good, loving, and joyful to each of us.

By your first coming, you accomplished everything necessary to redeem us and make us your own. You took our sin on the cross, and clothed us in your righteousness by your resurrection. You love us right now as much as you ever will, and delight in us as fully as you will on the Day you return. The Gospel is this true, good, and beautiful.

And now, you are at work in our hearts and all creation to complete the work you have begun. And according to these passages, you take great joy in making us like yourself and in making all things new. In fact, you will never stop doing good to us—and what you do, you do with all your “heart and soul.”

Jesus, this is so revolutionary, counter-intuitive, and freeing. You intend for us to think of our growth in grace, our healing, and sanctification as the domain for experiencing more of your loving heart and great joy. O Jesus, we believe you, but we want to believe this a whole lot more. Help us, Lord. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, as someone who is “directionally impaired,” I’m grateful to live in the era of cars having digital-screen maps and calm voices to direct us to our desired destinations. But 10,000 times over, I’m grateful today for your calming voice in the Scriptures, and for the riches of the Gospel today.

The Scriptures reveal the stunning future you have guaranteed for us as your beloved people, and the Gospel guarantees we’ll not miss out. When you return, Jesus, you will usher in “the new heaven and new earth.” It will be the best of the Garden of Eden, but so much more. If Eden was a “glory-bud,” the new heaven and new earth will be a worldwide “grace-garden.” There will be no more death and dying, only living and thriving.

This very earth—not a re-do or replacement earth, will be filled with your glory. Familiar places will still be there, but empty of every evidence of sin and death. Your every-nation Bride will be complete, gathered, and glorified. Each of us will be made perfect in love, and will be as much like you as glorified creatures can be. We will finally love you, and each other, as much as you love us. Hallelujah! Hasten the Day, Lord!

Until then, Jesus, keep reeling in our wandering and forgetful hearts. May our living hope propel us into patient, expectant, intentional missional living and loving. So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, thank you for free and full access into your presence, and for the promise and provision of wisdom. Among the arenas of life for which we need wisdom, none is more daily, impactful, and pressing than our relationships. You call us to love others as you love us, Jesus, but sometimes it’s hard to know exactly what that looks like.

But in our confusion, knowing you love us isn’t just a “game changer,” it’s the everything changer. Keep taking us “further up and further in,” for when it comes to the height, depth, width, and breadth of your love, none of us is more than a babe, neophyte, and novice. Hallelujah, and thank you.

But as wisdom needers and seekers, please help us with these relational dynamics and questions, Jesus.

• What does “conflicting redemptively” look like, Jesus? Few of us have grown up knowing how to deal with conflicts “in line with the truth of the Gospel” (Gal.2:14). We know “fight, flight, freezing, and fawning” don’t work. But what does faith expressing itself in love look like when we have strong disagreements and have gotten disconnected from people we truly love?
• How do we validate what our friends and loved ones are feeling, without taking responsibility for their emotions and choices? Show us how to be present without defaulting to fixing, explaining, or offering suggestions that aren’t being asked for.
• Jesus, what is the line between healthy engagement in a challenging relationship, versus getting enmeshed and entangled in counterproductive—even destructive ways?

Back to square one—since all relational health flows out of current, rich, and robust relationship with you, Jesus, on the cusp of Spring 2025, would you please bring us into a renewed and expanded experience of the wonders of your love and the riches of your grace? So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, hallelujah for the Gospel! Hallelujah for your patience and kindness with us. Hallelujah for the “grace-ness” of your grace. We’re just like the first recipients of Paul’s letter to the Romans. We constantly need to be reminded of how we became, remain, and will enter heaven as your children—all by your free, sovereign, and “Amazing Grace.”

   “I have kept for myself . . .”—how we love the ring and glory of these words. As in the days before, during, and long after Elijah—you have reserved, are redeeming, and will preserve a much-loved people for yourself.

Some of us have Israeli passports, but most don’t. In fact, no nation or people group will be excluded from your eternal family—so great are the riches and reach of your grace. As for the size of your “reserved remnant”—why do we think “tiny” when the Scriptures declare “massive”? The Apostle John got a faith-glimpse of this “remnant” and his description is thrilling and hope fueling:

“I saw a vast crowd, too great to count, from every nation and tribe and people and language, standing in front of the throne and before the Lamb… shouting with a great roar, ‘Salvation comes from our God who sits on the throne and from the Lamb!’” (Rev.7:9-10).

Abba, we’re in “shouting mode” today too: Hallelujah for the Gospel! Hallelujah for saving, sustaining, “sane-ing,” all-cosmos-transforming grace! Hallelujah and So VERY Amen!

Dear Lord Jesus, the question, “Have you come to Jesus?” remains the most critical, glorious, and grace-filled question for any of us to answer. Formerly relegated to our initial salvation experience, I now realize “coming to Jesus” describes the whole of the Christian life. Until the Day you glorify us, we will never not need you, Jesus. We are that needy, and you are that generous.

But better than simply needing you, Jesus, growth in grace is growth in our joy, awe, and delight in you. The spiritual sacrifices we offer to you and through you are marked by grateful praise, Gospel astonishment, and affectionate adoration. The more precious you become to us, Jesus, the more we watch our shame melt away and our self-preoccupation shrink. The freer we become, the deeper our peace grows, and the more we delight to go with you into your commitment to make all things new.

The more time we spend in rich fellowship and heart communion with you, Jesus, the less we look to people to fill the Jesus-shaped vacuum in our hearts. How many times are we going to have to return to Gospel-summer-school to be convinced that people make lousy Jesus-substitutes? We’re ready (or at least desirous) to graduate from that “class,” Jesus!

Indeed, the better we know you, the more we understand why the Apostle Paul said departing from this world to the next would be “better by far” (Phil.1:23), Not merely to exit this mess, but to know and enjoy more of you, Jesus, than we possibly can in this life. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, these Scriptures make me treasure the gift of daily mercies all the more. This side of glorification, I don’t really expect to be irritation or annoyance free; but I’d love to be slower to react and quicker to “chillax”—slower to vent, and better at Gospel-ventilation. I have never once—in 75 years of life, said to myself, “Man, I am so glad I flew off the handle like that. I have finally mastered the art of being easily offended, snippy, and being fluent in spite-speak.” Nope, I’ve never given myself that kind of self-congratulation … thankfully so.

Jesus, gentle and center me and my friends—over and over and over. Though it’s easy to do, none of us actually wants to keep a record of bothersome things done around us or to us. In our most Gospel-sane moments, none of us thinks it’s a good idea to replay every uncaring, grating, thoughtless thing done or said to us. In fact, Jesus, help us be far more aware of when we’re the ones being annoying and provoking to others.

Life is too short for short fuses. People’s spirits are too precious for spirit-crushing (Prov.18:14). Your grace is too free and too abundant for us to be stingy with overlooking, patience, and forgiveness. Given the choice—and you have given us the choice, we’d far rather be kind than quarrelsome (2Tim.2:24). So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, you haven’t promised us a storm-less, hassle-free, disappointment-empty life. But you have promised something that transcends our fears, vulnerability, and hurts. You promise to keep us in perfect peace in the midst of anything and everything.

Hallelujah for your keeping power, Jesus. We’re prone to wander, but you’re more prone and successful at reeling us in and bringing us back to where we belong—in vital intimacy with yourself. We can never lose our relationship with you, but we can, most definitely, lose the sweetness and nourishment of fellowship with you.

But your promise is even grander than a commitment to keep us all the way Home. You promise to keep us in perfect peace—not in semi, partial, or wanna-be peace. Jesus, you give us a peace that passes, surpasses, and even by-passes our ability to make sense of things (Phil.4:7). Hallelujah, and thank you.

All we have to do is mine the riches of the Gospel and keep in mind the wonders of your love. Indeed, help us think primarily about filling and fixing our thoughts on you, Jesus—not merely on our favorite verses, praise songs and hymns, and theology books. These good gifts are conduits of your truth, goodness, and beauty—but it is you we want to know better and better all the way Home (Phil.3:10-11).

Today, tomorrow, and forever, Jesus, bring us back (or bring us into) this glorious state of heart: “Whom or what do I have in heaven but you, Jesus? You make heaven ‘heavenly.’ And being with you, there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you” (Paraphrase of Ps.73:25). So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, to know you have planned our days gives us incomparable peace—especially when we remember you write our stories with the ink of grace and the hand of perfect love. Hallelujah, we live by your grace-full providence, not by accidental happenstance or random circumstance.

Because you’ve written our names in the Lamb’s book (Luke 10:20; Rev.13:8), surely we can trust you with whatever else you write into our stories. That doesn’t always make life easy, but it makes it good—and finally, glorious. Because the final chapter of our story is an eternal life of perfection, redemption, and beauty in “the new heaven and new earth” (Rev.21:1-5). Hallelujah, and thank you, Abba.

Your name is Redeemer, not Re-Doer—the God who turns our mourning into dancing, clothes us with joy (Psalm 30:11), and rejoices over us with loud singing (Zeph.3:17). You give mercy for our messes, redemption for our suffering, grace for the waiting, and hope for our future. Thank you for being the Author and Finisher of our stories, Abba.

This very weekend, I gather with friends in a snow-kissed cabin in Land O Lakes, Wisconsin, to officiate a wedding for friends whose shared story is a testimony and tapestry of just how precious your thoughts about us really are. Indeed, you are the God from whom all blessings flow. Thank you for giving Jesus to us, and for us, Father. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, on this chilly, snowy (in some places!) February Friday,  it’s a huge gift to live without doubting, fearing, or having to guess what you think about us. Because of the Gospel, we live in your 100% favor 100% of the time. No more “He loves me, He loves me not.”

The burden of our guilt, shame, and failures have been lifted, replaced with your unwavering delight. Posing and pretending have been crushed under the weight of your eternal welcome and lavish love. What relief… what freedom… what peace we have.

Your currency is grace, your “pockets” are full, and your generosity is limitless. You will stay on a grace-riches spending spree until you take us Home. Hallelujah… Jesus’ saving work is finished for us, and the Spirit’s transforming work continues in us until the Day of all things new and beautiful (Rev.21:5, Eccl.3:11), and you remain in sovereign control over us. May the rest we have in the Gospel mark the rest of our days with…

Faith expressing itself in love.

Hope expressing itself in mission.

Grace expressing itself in kindness.

Peace expressing itself in faith and trust.

Humility expressing itself in quick repentances.

We are loved, yours, grateful, and Home-ward bound. SO Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, I’ve lived on Melville Street, Oakwood Lane, Rosewood Vally Drive, Highgrove Circle—meaning I’ve lived in houses on those various thoroughfares. But more than ever I am so grateful to be able to say that you are my Home, Jesus—my heart habitat, permanent address, happy place, grace sanctuary, and residence of rest. Hallelujah, and thank you.

It’s just flat-out true—home is more about “who” than “where.” A house has an address, a home has a heart. It’s more profound than cliché to say that our home is where our heart is—more so, our home is where your heart is. That explains why I easily weep when I hear Mike Card’s song, “I Will Bring You Home,” in which he wrote you singing to us…

“Though you are homeless, though you’re alone, I will be your home. Whatever’s the matter, whatever’s been done. I will be your home. In this fearful fallen place, I will be your home. When time reaches fullness, when I move My hand, I will bring you home … I will be your home.” Hallelujah, on Gospel-steroids.

Jesus, teach us how, and take us afresh into a life of abiding in you, and abiding in your love. Thank you for our houses, and for the sweet seasons and moments of “homelife” we have enjoyed in this life. But help us understand that our deepest longings for Home are connected to you. Fill our hearts and our houses with you as our Home… until the day you take us Home. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, this verse is an apt and awe-fueling summary of what the Bible affirms about you. Hallelujah, you and only you are “ruler of the kings of the earth” (Rev.1:5) and “king of the nations” (Rev.15:3)—sovereign over our hairs, hours, heartaches, and “Hooray’s!” Indeed, “there will be no end to the increase of your government and peace” (Isa.9:7).

This is the true and best news—the transcendent, eternal reality in which we rest and rejoice today. Over the past several days, I’ve experienced delight, dismay, and disgust over how easily world leaders can make choices that change the life and lifestyle my neighbors and the nations. If I wasn’t certain you already occupy the throne of heaven, I would despair (Rev.4). Only your “executive orders” last forever—Hallelujah! Human ink, ultimately will prove to be invisible ink on papers that are destined to burn. “Whew!”

Some countries will experience today as “monarch for a moment”—for power changes hands as quickly as the weather. Other communities live under “tyrant by terror”—whoever can create more fear, trauma, and evil gets to call the shots and enrich themselves. But as those who belong to you, we joyfully reaffirm our most defining “citizenship is in heaven” (Phil.3:20).

Lord Jesus, you are our life and righteousness, our freedom and hope, our God, King, Savior, and Bridegroom. We crave your return, the fullness of your Kingdom, and our coming life in the new heaven and new earth. But you are no less King today than you will be then. Until the Day of all things new, we purpose to live and love to your glory. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, “Stephanas and Fortunatus and Achaicus”—3 of many names we “skim through” to get to the “important” parts of chapter or verse in the Bible. But in the economy of grace, these men were in the Hall of Fame of friendship—the “crème de la crème,” the summum bonum of friends. The Apostle Paul said of them, “I am always glad to see these brothers come through the door, for they bring refreshment to my spirit. They have the “it,” body-language, and heart for giving me refreshment when I need it the most.”

Jesus, thank you for our version of refreshing brothers and sisters like Stephanas, Fortunatus, and Achaicus—and Phoebe, Priscilla, Mary, and Junia (Rom.16). They bring no pressure, just your non-anxious presence. They’re the kinds of friends whose names we love to see come up on a text or call. They’re more likely to ask, “How can I help you?”, than “Aren’t you over that yet?” We can laugh, weep, repent, and play with them—trust them with our biggest fears and hardest struggles.

But Jesus, we don’t just treasure those kinds of friends, we want to be that friend to others as well. Work in us and love through us—for you are the headwater, river, and fountain of refreshment. You are the friend who sticks closer than a brother and loves deeper than we realize. You are near and dear to the brokenhearted, weary, and heavily burdened. Thank. You. Jesus. Be all of that to us and through us, this very day. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, we crave this—for your presence to be so real in our corporate worship, non-believers would join us in saving faith and adoring love. Do it again, do it afresh, Jesus—not experience for experience sake, but as a foretaste of the Day the nations will stream into the New Jerusalem (Rev.7).

May our worship be so saturated with the truth and grace of the Gospel, and the sovereign work of your Spirit, that all of us—believers and nonbelievers alike, will be overwhelmed with your presence and captured by your love. We remember seasons when we loved you with childlike wonder, Gospel-astonishment, and unrestrained affection—and it’s a holy and right desire to long to be restored to the joy of your salvation and the freedom you have won for us. We will bow one Day before you in unfiltered worship (Phil.2:11), why not bow anew this day?

Because of what you have done for us on the cross, we don’t have to be afraid of having “the secrets of our hearts exposed”—or anything else we have done, do, or are. You took our judgment and gave us your righteousness. Our need is greater than we realize, and you are more loving and generous than we ever hoped—or once knew but have forgotten. Renew, refresh, revitalize us, Jesus. Hallelujah, our Father isn’t seeking great worship, but true worshippers—those who worship you in “Spirit and truth” (Jn.4:23). So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus … Bread from Heaven and Bread of Life (John 6:22-29)—starter, yeast, leaven … I’m thankful for all the carbohydrate and bread images you chose to tell us more about yourself and your Kingdom. Irrespective of our personal gluten and wheat choices—this parable is powerful, timely, and so encouraging.

This dear woman mixes a little yeast (sourdough starter) into enough wheat to yield 40-60 pounds of dough. That would have been enough for 60 loaves of bread and about 480 hearty-slice sandwiches. This story is awesome on many levels. She was obviously thinking about providing bread for a lot of people.

Her heart was bigger than her bungalow, your presence bigger than her pantry, her vision bigger than her kitchen, and her “table” was as big as your Kingdom. She had confidence in the permeating, transforming presence of the right leaven.

She didn’t own a bread factory, but as the Storyteller—you want us to see how belonging to you puts us in a bigger Story than we realize—a Story pregnant with hope, and as big and loving as your Kingdom. Our “labors in the Lord” will never be in vain because your labors for us were perfect, once-and-for-all, and finished. Hallelujah!

One Day the entire earth will be filled with your glory, as the waters cover the sea. The “leaven” of your Spirit, the yeast of your lovingkindness, the first-fruits of your Kingdom, the “starter” of your resurrection will prove to be the “finisher” of your commitment to make all things new. Hope, generosity, and kindness are the order of this and every day. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, on the “Calendar of Grace” today is the perfect day for remembering and reveling in the only love better than life. The “first splash” of love emanating shock waves of longing and affection since creation. The sonic boom of intimacy and tenderness whose echo reverberates in every great love story since the creation of the cosmos.

Jesus, your great love for us in the Gospel is the meaning, measure, and magnificence of the intimacy and affection we ceaselessly crave. No mortal, no great romance, certainly no “fling” can fill the vacuum inside us uniquely designed and reserved for you. Our sweetest relationships, healthiest marriages, and most endearing friendships are hints and whispers of what belonging to you actually means.

For you are the ultimate Spouse, the one we always wanted—the one with whom we will enjoy perfect connection, bliss, and joy forever. To be a Christian is to say “so long” to singleness and marriage as we have known it. For we are more married to you than we could ever be to a human spouse. Make this our song, joy, and exquisite delight, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, why is “being right” more fun than being humble? Why does getting defensive comes easier than getting low? Why is getting even more tantalizing than giving grace? I relish the fact you don’t remember my sins against me, so why do I remember and rehearse other people’s against them? It’s a good thing you give new mercies every day, including today. Have mercy on me, Abba.

Nobody’s failure to love well justifies me returning “the favor.” No one’s ungrace gives me permission to cop an attitude, or become a self-righteous cop in the precinct where you have graciously placed me. Abba, forgive me for confusing the self-righteous monologue I’ve been carrying on in my head with prayer. I’ve been talking to myself, not to you.

How sobering—you oppose the proud. You don’t just ignore them or roll your eyes at their (our) chilly-hearted, judgmental, grudge-harboring, puffed-up ways. Who in their right mind would knowingly, willingly want your opposition, Abba? That is certifiable insanity—the total opposite of Gospel-sanity.

How gladdening—you give grace to the humble. You give grace—not as a wage earned by good people, but as an impossible-to-earn gift to the ill-deserving. You give grace that we might humble ourselves. You give grace to keep us humble. You give grace to the freshly humbled that we might give grace to those we’d rather give something else. Abba, thank you for being the “God of all grace” (1Pet.5:10). “De-puff” us today by the power and riches of the Gospel. So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, thank you for being honest about what we are to expect life to “feel” like between your resurrection and return. As we head towards the Day of all things new, we still inhabit a cosmos of all-things-broken, as your beloved with new but yet-to-be-perfected hearts.

Life “under the sun” is shorthand for a life of the “already and not yet”—firstfruits of glory and frustrations from the Fall. Your Kingdom has already arrived in part, but not yet fully as it will be. Beauty and brokenness, magnificence and messiness, fun and fury will co-exist and co-mingle until you return.

The same vocation, friendship, marriage, parent-child relationship that yields moments of great joy and deep affection will generate painful irritation and sizeable disconnect until “the Day.” To accept this reality can rescue us from unrealistic expectations and fuel patient hope. To ignore this will make us miserable, and miserable to live with.

Fortunately, in our “toil and life under the sun,” you have a wonderful habit of blessing us with sovereign and spontaneous blessings we didn’t see coming. Unexpected “grace-bombs” get dropped on us from heaven at just the right time. Out-of-season daffodils break through frozen ground, Spirit-kisses from the Scriptures landing on our weary hearts—meals with friends that whisper “The wedding feast of the Lamb is coming”—tightlines with big trout dancing and shouts of, “Fish on!”, reverberating.

Pain-free, disappointment-void, all-brokenness-gone days will fill our eternity. Until then, your give us everything we need, Jesus, and more. The “not yet” will arrive right on time. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, there’s so much “3-magnificence” filling the Bible—threes, triples, and triads of glory, grace, and goodness. Beginning with you, Abba, and the Holy Spirit—our glorious Triune God—the source and fountain of life, truth, goodness, and beauty. Then there’s the three offices you perfectly fulfill on our behalf, Jesus, as Prophet, Priest, and King. Hallelujah, and thank you. Our past, present, and future are each in your heart and hands.

Then we think of (and rejoice in) Paul’s “faith, hope, and love” (ICor.13:13), Jude’s “called, loved, and kept” (Jude 1:1), and John’s “grace, mercy, and peace” 2Jn.1:3)—each highlighting the riches of grace that we are given in you. How do we “spend” these riches of grace in life? Paul gives us another trio that answers this question. Free us to live and love this way until you return, Lord Jesus.

   Be Joyful in Hope: Jesus, thank you for giving us hope, not hype. If we could smell the grass of the new heaven and new earth, and catch a glimpse of the “perfect everything” we’ll enjoy forever, our joy would be great, our fears would shrink, and our servanthood would be supersized.

  Be Patient in Affliction: Since everything broken, sinful, and evil has an expiration date, patience isn’t a risk but our calling. You’re working in all things for our good, working all things together according to your plan, and nothing can separate us from your love. So rather than seeking to escape affliction, we can serve you well right in the middle of our afflictions, and those of others.

   Be Constant in Prayer: Jesus, we can pray without ceasing because you love us without wavering, rule over all things without exception, and intercede for us without stopping. To pray is to join you, Jesus, in your commitment to make all things new, redeem your Bride, and fill the earth with your glory. Hallelujah, what a calling and hope! So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, thank you. These Scriptures land on our hearts today like a kiss from heaven—not merely as a great teaching or important reminder. A kiss is a relational category, and your affection for us is incomparable, limitless, and always timely. We don’t need insights, we need you. We don’t need to be coached, we need your compassion.

Weariness can do a number on us. Spiritual, emotional, and mental exhaustion lead us to make choices we always regret. We run aimlessly to salvation-less saviors and anesthetics to numb us. Yet you bid us come boldly to the throne of grace, to receive need-shaped mercy and grace (Heb.4:15)—for you “long to be to gracious to us.” Abba, thank you for your unrelenting, pursuing, kind heart.

We aren’t facing the enemies Israel confronted in Isaiah’s day. The Assyrian and Babylonian armies aren’t on the horizon of our neighborhoods. But “the roaring lion is prowling” close by (1Pet.5:8). Our fears lie to us and our pain demands relief. Blame and anger come easier than quietness and trust… So Abba…

Right now in this very moment—with your mercy in view and our eyes fixed on Jesus, we return, repent, and rest. We don’t need to soar high like eagles; we’ll settle for your Spirit descending on us, bringing dove-like peace (Lk.3:21-22). Abba, be gracious to us today through your Word, Jesus’ intercession, your Spirit’s sovereign work, the ministry of angels (Heb.1:14), praying, encouraging friends… however you choose. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, Hallelujah! This verse isn’t the private domain of one nation, a promise for an individual believer to claim. Rather, it’s your meta-promise that claims me, us, and every nation (Rev.7)—everything above, on, and below the earth (Rev.5:13)—every scintilla of the cosmos and nanosecond of time. You have left nothing to chance, but all things to Jesus (Col.1:15-20; Heb.1:2-3; Eph.1:10).

Thank you for being a Planner not a Suggester—the Author and Perfecter of our faith, not a mere life coach or spiritual mentor. We really don’t have to be afraid of anything—in life and death, or anything in between. The Gospel confirms you are unequivocally and incomparably good. Your Word dares us to believe that our future is crammed full and bursting at the seams with truth, goodness, and beauty—beyond anything our eyes, ears, and minds have imagined.

“Stuff” happens in life, but your sovereignty eats “stuff” for lunch. And every circumstance, consequence, and coincidence serve the purposes of your providence. SO, how should all of this rich theology impact how we live on this Super Bowl Sunday, next Thursday at 3pm, March 7^th and every day till you take us Home? We don’t have to guess, Abba. You have called us to love you with everything we have and are—to love mercy, work for justice, and walk humbly with you (Micah 6:8). We are to grow in grace and in relationship with Jesus (2Pet.3:18). We are to love each other as Jesus loves us—stay convictable, be quick repenters, and great forgivers. Thank you, Abba, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, it’s comforting beyond all comforts to know you to be the God who is always working on our behalf according to your promises and pleasure. Your “good purpose” for us was written in eternity with the pen of your sovereignty and the ink of indelible grace. You are at work before us, in us, around us, through us, and after us. That doesn’t always make life easy, but it gives us sanity and hope like nothing else.

Season by season, chapter by chapter, story by story—Abba, you do all things well, even when you don’t do all things the way we wish you would. Through joys and sorrows, rescue and redemption, unspeakable joy and very speakable aches—when your love is palpably real to us, and when your ways remain hidden from us, you alone are worship-worthy and utterly trustworthy. Thank you, Abba.

On this February Saturday morning, I pray for friends who are waking up to more mystery than clarity—dear sisters and brothers who feel more dread than delight, more fragility than security, more unrest than peace, more numb than alive. By your Spirit and your Word, through heaven ordered providence and time-built friendship, by supernatural means and ordinary grace—Abba, bring your presence and kindness to bear. Put on our hearts those we can touch, and grant us grace to welcome the touch of those you will send us. We all need you, Abba. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, I have no clue who Ethan the Ezrahite was—the author of Psalm 89 but I love his adoration and awe-filled heart. It’s one thing to be doctrinally correct about your love, it’s an altogether different thing to be doxologically-smitten with your love. That is, to get your love so fresh and deep into our hearts, we non-singers sing, and we non-dancers dance.

By your Spirit, Abba, astonish us afresh with an experience of your great love. Melt, mold, and make our hearts merry with your affection for us in Jesus. When did we stop singing? Where did we lose our song and voice?

The Apostle Paul called your love compelling (2Cor.5:14-15) incomparable (1Cor.13:1-13), and so great it’s impossible to fully know (Eph.3:14-21). King David labeled your love “better than life” itself (Ps.63:3); and as steadfast, generous, and enduring as the best Shepherd imaginable (Ps.23). Jeremiah pushed the envelope when he told us you love us with an unwavering, never-ending love—full of unfailing kindness (Jer.31:3)

John described your love as lavish and fear-expelling (1Jn.3:1; 4:18). Isaiah said your love is as tender as a nursing mother (Isa.49:15,16) and as passionate as a young groom delighting in his new bride (Isa.62:5). And what are we to do with Zephaniah’s shocking images of the way you love us? Abba, he said you greatly delight in us, are committed to quiet us with your love, and actually rejoice over us with singing (Zeph.3:17). May it be. Let it be. Do it Abba, for your glory.

Indeed, the heck with decorum, restraints, politeness, “staying in our denominational lanes,” or not embarrassing ourselves or anybody else … fill us to overflowing with your matchless love.  So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, we receive this familiar story as a fresh mercy-bomb, grace-lift, sanity-maker. After humbling King Nebuchadnezzar, you convinced him (and remind us) that there’s only one everlasting King (you) and one eternal Kingdom (yours). Make this more real than ever to us.

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego got to see you turn Nebuchadnezzar’s lions into purring kittens, and his 7-fold hot flames became like 7 flickering candles. As we turn our eyes upon you, Jesus—setting our gaze on your wonderful face, “the things of earth grow strangely dim by the light of your glory and grace.”

Indeed, the better we know you, Jesus, the closer we walk with you, the more time we spend savoring your truth, goodness, and beauty—the “things of earth”—our fears, distractions, heart-idols, temptations, threats, and pain—they all get gloriously and wonderfully “dim.” “Dim” as in diminished and downsized, put into perspective and shrunk to their proper size. Hallelujah!

Jesus, you are already “ruler of the kings of the earth”—seated and sovereign over heaven’s angels, earth’s everything, and our unfolding stories. Thank you for always doing as you please, not as we beg. Turn up the rheostat on your glory, grace, and face. Turn our fears into faith, our mourning into dancing, our sweaty palms into joyful hands lifted to you in worship and trust. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, we love your beautiful and bold affirmations in this verse. The “keys” that matter most aren’t in the hands of chance, evil, or fate. They are in your hands You will never say, “Oops” or “I didn’t see that one coming.” Even the “roll of the dice” (Prov.16:33), the “ordering of our steps” (Prov.16:9), and the fall of sparrows and follicles are under your control (Matt.10:29). “Death and the grave,” all history and our hope belong to you. Whew, and grant us the grace of acceptance.

The implications of these affirmations are far reaching, worry sabotaging, and hope igniting. We don’t have to fear getting older, global anything, meteors crashing to earth, rain falling on our parades, the next catastrophe, or our family not making it on the cover of “Kind Parents and Perfect Children.”

You have the keys, Jesus, because you are the key—the source, sum, substance, sustainer, and Savior. Abba has entrusted to you “all authority in heaven and on earth” (Matt. 28:18). History is your storyboard of redemption and restoration. You don’t just have the keys, but also the steering wheel, GPS, chosen route, and perfectly timed arrival date, and eternal destination.

Forgive us for acting like impatient car-seated 3-year-olds asking, “Are we there yet?” Or annoying backseat drivers questioning your awareness, “Weren’t we supposed to turn back there, Jesus? You do know this is a 25 mph, zone, right?” Hallelujah, you aren’t slow to keep your promises—you are merciful (2Pet.3:9). Wow, are you merciful. So VERY Amen.

Lord Jesus, whether life currently feels like a gentle zephyr or a roaring typhoon—whether “sky-water” is coming in the form of freezing rain or “hellish” humidity—no matter if we’re under the bluest of skies or a total eclipse—your grace is the most certain, inexhaustible, necessary, and glorious reality we will ever experience.

That’s true because grace isn’t a “something” but a “Someone”—it’s you, Jesus. You are the incarnation of the God of all grace. You were certainly “gracious” in attitude, but you are grace-full as our Creator, Redeemer, and Bridegroom.

When you were born, “grace appeared” (Tit.2:11). To be saved by grace is to be saved by you, Jesus (2 Cor.8:9); and through our union with you, we continue to receive “grace upon grace” (Jn.1:16-17). We are rich beyond all calculation and imagination.

To receive “sufficient grace” (2Cor.12:9) isn’t having to settle for Plan B when we really wanted Plan A. It’s to get every bit of you we need in any and every situation. You always give us your storm-claiming presence—even when the storm continues (Mk.4:35-41). You are our complete armor in our daily “dust-ups” and the “nuclear warfare” of life (Eph.6:10-18).

In fact, you are our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1Cor.1:30)—our very life and guarantee of glory (Col.3:1-4). How do we forget this “grace-stuff,” Jesus? Why do we have whine-fests—not just whine-tastings? Why do we ever sit under vines of your provision and sulk (Jonah 4:5-11), or carp, like the older son, about not getting a “young-goat BBQ party” (Lk.15:29) when everything you have is ours (Lk.15:31)?

O Jesus, how fitting our verse of the day is the last verse in the Bible: “The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all y’all. Amen” (Rev.22:21). All the way Home, we need you. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, on this 1^st Sunday in February, 2025, I rejoice in the magnificent paradox and glorious irony this Scripture presents: We are to strive to rest—to strain to not strain… to stay restless till we rest fully in you… to work hard to cease working… to “sweat” till we don’t break a sweat.

This is the primary example of how the Gospel contradicts the way we’ve been taught (brainwashed) life “works”—pun intended. “You deserve it, go earn it.” “God helps them who help themselves.” “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.” We may have to pay for lunch, but Jesus paid for our eternal feast, essential rest, and everlasting peace. Hallelujah!

There’s no greater rest than to know you are at peace with us, Abba—to be certain you are resting in your love towards us, and rejoicing over us with great rejoicing (Zeph.3:17). Sabbath isn’t a mere day, it’s our only Savior—Jesus, himself. “Find rest Oh my soul in God alone” (Ps.62:5).

So why, Abba, do we who have already received rest in Jesus still “strive” to enter that rest? There’s the striving of gaining, and there’s the striving of maintaining. Until Jesus returns, we’re still going to drift towards Jesus + something for our sense of “okay-ness” with you. We are legalists and performers to the core—allergic to grace and plagued with unbelief. Our rest in Jesus is like our freedom by Jesus. It’s ours forever, but we “lose it” in the moment (Gal.5:1). Abba, we treasure both our rest and our freedom and will “strive” to thrive in each. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, if I’d been asked at 10 to describe my 75-year-old self, some of the images would have probably included being bent over with aging bones and denture-less at night. A mall-walker, multiple prescriptions-taker, with a get-up-and-go that got-up-and-went. The mall-walking park is true—along with hiking trails, strolling neighborhood streets, beaches, and wherever. Hallelujah Jesus, I feel better on my 75^th birthday than I did at 55.

Today I gladly reaffirm: “All the days ordained for me were written in your book...” (Ps.139:16). Jesus, I won’t enter heaven one day sooner than you decide, and I won’t suffer one thing outside your sovereign will. Until then nothing will separate me from your love (Rom.8:38-39), snatch me from your hand (Jn.10:28), or erase my name from heaven’s book (Lk.10:20). Hallelujah!

Jesus, this is who I know you to be and trust you to be all the way Home: “I will be your God throughout your lifetime—until your hair is white (or gone) with age. I made you and I’ll care for you. I will carry you along and deliver you” (Isa.46:4). Hallelujah, you have already delivered me from sin’s condemnation and death’s sting—from every false Gospel and every empty hope—from doubting your love to resting in it and relying on it. Thank you!

Jesus, until my last gasp here and my first breath in heaven—as my bones get older, make my heart younger. “Render” me more alive than ever to your truth, goodness, and beauty, Jesus. Increase my Gospel-astonishment—my wonder, awe, experience of all you truly are. I want to love others as you love me, Jesus. I want to invest my remaining days in your commitment to make all things new and beautiful. So Very Amen.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matt.11:28)

Jesus, you know everything about us—our beauty and our brokenness. Including our weariness, heartaches, and burdens. Though we’re tempted to minimize or maximize, blame or excuse, wilt and withdraw—but you’ll have none of it. Thank you.

You don’t want us to try harder, but to try trusting—to stop resisting your firm resolve to make us lie down in green pastures. Where can green pastures of restoration and refreshment be found? Anywhere you are, Jesus, anywhere you grow the grass of your kindness, grace, and loving heart.

Sometimes that looks like a few burden bearing friends, whose welcome and prayers become a meadow of your mercy. Sometimes it happens while we’re sitting in the same chair—but we travel light-years from abiding in resentment to a fresh abiding in your love. Sometimes we find the green pastures of your rest and kindness, quite literally, in actual green pastures of nature, creation, and beauty. Jesus, take us to green pastures of our choosing—even today. What are our rest-needs?

Rest from giving people more power over our hearts than we give you, Jesus.

Rest from taking on more than you intend—physically, spiritually, emotionally.

Rest from over-thinking situations and from under-believing the Gospel.

Rest from thinking people have to change before we can be at peace and happy.

Rest from looking more at our fears and “what if’s?” than your occupied throne.

Jesus, we gladly exchange our “heavy-laden-ness” for your rest, peace, and freedom. Though we resist, keep making us lie down in green pastures of your choosing. So Very Amen.

Dear Jesus, you loved us before the world began—before we showed any promise, or made promises we would inevitably break. You never looked to what we could do for you, but only at what you would do for us. Hallelujah, and thank you. Your life of perfect obedience, and your death of perfect surrender, are now counted as ours. We are legally, fully, and forever yours. You secured for us no condemnation for our sins and no separation from your love.

This is why we can count on your love being unwavering and unfailing. We can’t intensify nor diminish it—though our experience of your love certainly ebbs and flows. Why is that so, Jesus? You are faithful, but our emotions are as fickle and variable as the weather.

You never leave us, but we are prone to drift, wander, or run into seasons of unguarded and under-nourished hearts (Prov.4:23; Isa.55:1-3). This can lead to temporary Gospel-amnesia (Like the younger son, Lk.15:11-24), or the heart disease of legalism and self-righteousness (Like the older son Lk.15:25-32). Thank you for always pursuing us, Jesus, no matter the state and GPS of our hearts. Your love is the one constant in our lives.

You will cease to be God before your affection for us will wane or fail, be exhausted or withdrawn. You don’t love us to the degree we feel it, but we do want to feel your love, Jesus—to be smitten, undone, overwhelmed, and compelled by your incomparable affection (Eph.3:14-19). So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, these Scriptures remind us that nothing is more central to our identity than the name(s) by which we live. Our world, shame, evil—even we ourselves, brand us with names that shape, cripple, and imprison us. We are grateful to know you as the Lord of redeeming and re-naming.

Whether or not there’s literally a new name you’ll give us in heaven, it’s enough to know you now call us, “Mine”, “Beloved”, “Desired.” Free us to live by these grace-fueled names and appellations. And heal us of the names that have diss-graced, debased, and demeaned us. Indeed, free us from every destructive, anti-Gospel label we have ever received in life.

Just as importantly, help us address one another the ways you speak to us, Jesus—with kindness and grace, healing and hope. Convict us quickly and deeply when we label, brand, and intentionally harm others with weaponized words and mercy-void names. It’s the devil who robs, kills, and destroys—and when possible, he will use our words to accomplish his damnable deeds.

Lastly and most importantly, Jesus, your name is the name we love to hear more than any other. Your name isn’t just the assembly of 5 letters, it is the bottomless ocean of truth, goodness, and beauty. We long for the Day when we will join everyone and everything above, on, and below the earth in declaring your glory and grace (Rev.4-5). Hasten that Day, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Dear Lord Jesus, whatever our malady, illness, heartache, or storyline, our greatest consolation is hearing you say to us, “My love knows no bounds.” Hallelujah, when it comes to your love, there are no “out of bounds.” Our needs vary, and your grace is manifold and multifaceted (1Pet.4:10).  Bring it, gracious Lord—for your “love knows no bounds.”

Some of us are living in chronic trauma—others in chronic judgmentalism, fear, or money-love. Others are burdened with the weight and wait of parenting or “spousing.” Others of us are moving from stage 1 stress to stage 4 distress. But we will not despair, Jesus we will come to you, for your “love knows no bounds.”

Until the Day of perfect health, we will seek to take care of ourselves—guarding our hearts (Prov.4:23), keeping a covenant with our eyes (Job 31:1), bringing you our hunger and thirst (Isa.55:1-3), obeying your command to rest and sleep (Ps.127:2), surrendering our thoughts to your Kingship (2Cor.10:5), exercising spiritually and physically (1Tim.4:8). But our hope is in your delight, Jesus—not in our discipline, for your “love knows no bounds.”

Whether our healing is instant, progressive, off and on, or not till heaven—you have guaranteed it, for your “love knows no bounds.” We may whine now, but we will be grateful forever. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, forgive us for not wanting to need the Gospel, your Spirit, close friends as much as you say we do. Sabotage every attempt we make this week not to need Jesus. Though we’d rather be swaggering vessels of togetherness and competency, that’s not the way of the Gospel. On the pottery-wheel of your grace, you’ve designed us to be jars of clay who release the aroma of power-in-weakness, and grace-through-humility.

Though we have a different “this” than the Apostle Paul, you call each of us away from self-sufficieny to a life of Abba-dependence—relying on you, the God who raises the dead. Because you raised Jesus from the dead, we can trust you to bring resurrection life to every place death has brought more death. Thank you for being the “Father of mercies and the God of all comfort” (2Cor.1:3).

Few of us are facing deadly perils like Paul; but many of us are living with injustices that seem unsolvable, heart-wounds that resist healing, and circumstances that threaten to squeeze the joy and hope out of us. So may Jesus increasingly be our treasure, the Gospel our delight, and your grace our sufficiency. May we boast more fully in Jesus that we might boast more freely in our weaknesses. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, I woke up today both grateful for the greatness of your love, and aware of just how much I need your love. Our deepest longings find their origin and fulfillment in you. Our greatest brokenness finds its healing through you. Our lingering fears and foolishness find their release by you. What a wonderful, merciful Savior you are.

We belong to you, Jesus—not by the merit of our efforts, or by the tears of our repentance, nor by the pledge of our faithfulness. We belong to you because you paid a price beyond measure to give us riches beyond calculation.

You desire us, Jesus—not because we show promise, but because you fulfilled every promise God made on our behalf. You enjoy us—not because we are choice, but because we are chosen. You delight in us—not because we’ve made you proud, but because you’ve made us yours. You love us as much as Abba loves you, and nothing can diminish or intensify our beloved-ness.

Jesus, may your love’s height free us to believe the saints in heaven are more joyful than us but not more loved. May your love’s depth empower us to love well in our hardest, most broken stories. May your love’s width increase the reach of our embrace to include those who are different from us. May your love’s length prepare us well all the way Home. Thank you, Jesus, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, fear, uncertainty, and vulnerability are crafty thieves, bent of robbing us of peace, trust, and hope. We don’t judge the angry Israelites in this story, for we know what it feels like to be out of wait, reserves, and faith. You opened the Red Sea for them, and you opened Jesus’ tomb for us. Yet at times we still struggle to trust you.

They wanted to return to the known slavery of Egypt rather than trust you in the unknown territory of the wilderness. What does this look like for us? Some of us are in stories of unresolved conflicts that are paying high-yield compound interest. The demand for relief grows louder as the hope of redemption grows weaker. Any kind of relief looks—not only better, but essential.

Some of us are facing the “map-less” hill country of aging. We’re more certain of heaven than what’s next in life. So we medicate with slavery to busyness and drivenness. Others of us are beginning unplanned-for transitions, some are well into stories of chronic suffering, still others are in the desert of waiting for kids and spouses to come to their senses and come home.

Abba, we are grateful your grace is for sinners—for the weak, helpless, and powerless. We qualify! So grant us big, fresh grace to “be still and know you are God”—that we are your beloved children and you are our ever-faithful Father. And help us help each other, for sometimes we have a supply of hope and encouragement for others than we don’t have for ourselves. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, I don’t want to “qualify” these verses to death—listing everything they can’t possibly mean. Rather, I want to start this weekend marveling in the greatness of the mercy and grace you have lavished on me and my brothers and sisters. For loving well and wisely in complex relationships always flows from staying alive to your great love and kindness for us in Jesus. So, help us, Abba. Thaw our affection-chilled, mercy-presumptive, grace-assuming hearts.

We have no problem acknowledging our ingratitude—for we indulge it every day. But in what ways are we “wicked,” Father? Perhaps these two words have more in common than we realize. What is more “wicked” than repudiating, disbelieving, under-believing, forgetting, marginalizing the riches of your grace? Theoretical sinners only need theoretical mercy and grace. Abba, we want the real stuff because we need the real stuff. Grant us fresh, potent Gospel-renewal.

Many of us are currently involved in testy and testing relationships. It’d be 100 times easier to call down fire on some people in our lives than to call down your grace—and that’s simply not okay. Keep us humble and grateful, Abba—even as we will look to you for wisdom. Set off a super loud alarm in our hearts when resentment and retaliation come easier to us than being merciful and kind. Your kindness led and leads us to repentance. Our snarkiness and harshness will lead others in the opposite direction. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, you love us so well in so many ways, and one of the main ways is through the Scriptures. Today, in particular, thank you for reminding us that suffering is a normal part of life on our way Home—normal but not ultimate.

In the ultimate category is the good news that we belong to you—body, soul, and spirit. As we are, and as we will be—our beauty and our brokenness, our cares and our crises… they all belong to you. Indeed, when you say to us, “you are mine,” hallelujah, it’s an all-inclusive claim.

Every day—no exceptions, you summon each of us by name, not by group. You call us to savor your truth, goodness, and beauty in the Gospel. In fellowship with you, the threatening “waters” and “rivers” of life are put into perspective. Hallelujah, no matter how fearful, confusing, threatening, and painful life can get, we’re just “passing through” the hard stuff. And the “hard stuff” isn’t worth comparing with the “glorious stuff” that awaits us (Rom.8:18).

“Passing through” means we’re going somewhere—not just anywhere. Jesus, by your doing and delight, we are in route to our wedding day and eternal feast of belonging to you. We’re in a parade of grace that will take us all the way into the new heaven and new earth. We get weary and antsy in the waiting, but you are on time all the time. Thank you, Jesus, and So Very Amen.

• No condemnation for our sin – “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” Rom.8:1.
• No separation from God’s love. “Nothing will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” Rom.8:39.
• No temptation is greater than God’s provision of grace. “God will not allow you to be temptation beyond your ability to endure. When you are tempted, he will show you a way out”1:13.
• No possibility of losing or forfeiting our salvation. “I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” Phil.1:6.
• No cessation of Jesus’ prayers for us. “Jesus completely saves those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them” Heb.7:25.
• No chance we won’t be 100% like Jesus one Day—whole, healed, and loving. “We know that when Jesus appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is”3:2
• No crisis, failure, loss, or heartache is excluded from Romans 8:28. “God is at work in all things for the good of those who love him.”
• No possibility we can fathom the perfection and greatness of the life we’ll enjoy in the new heaven and new earth. “No eye has seen, ear heard, or mind imagined what God has prepared for those who love him” 1Cor.2:9.
• No tear we have ever wept will be left up-wiped and it’s pain unredeemed. “God will wipe every tear out of their eyes” Rev.21:4.

Thank you Abba. So Very Amen

Heavenly Father, this is the January 21^st, 2025 you have made, and we want to rejoice and be glad in it. And we also want to honor you in all that we do. Your unfailing love for us, and your faithfulness to us, are all the motivation that we need. We’re not going to get heavenly “brownie points” for doing well. We already have your full acceptance, unwavering favor, and great delight. What more could we possibly desire?

So, Abba, help us reveal your greatness and grace: In our oldest wounds and newest disappointments. In the providence we love and the jobs that we endure. In wonderful health and in painful diagnoses. In the parenting-regrets we carry and in the friendships that we cherish.

Show us how to honor you in our most complex, draining, triggering situations and stories. Free us to stay kind when we so want to be proven right. If honoring you involves personal sacrifice (and it usually does), let us do so without complaining, pretending, or avenging. Whatever mess we are in, we are more “in Christ” than in anything else. Hallelujah, and thank you.

We want to think to your glory, emote to your glory, speak to your glory, and choose to your glory. Abba, help us react and respond in ways that show we have more confidence in your sovereignty than worries about mere men—more peace in trusting you than a “need” to be in control. So Very Amen.

“Don’t lose heart… for your inner life is being renewed day by day. (2Cor.4:16)

“Don’t harden your heart… like Israel did in the wilderness” (Heb.2:8)

“Give me an undivided heart, that I may revere and adore your name.” (Ps.86:11)

Heavenly Father, I woke up today thinking about my heart—since the direction of our whole of life flows from our hearts (Prov.4:23). At times, my heart feels more prone to wander than prone to stay centered on you—trusting and adoring you. So I start this day and prayer with profound gratitude—resting in your grace and promises 1000% more than my determination to do more, try harder. Thank you that these two heart-promises claim us more than we claim them:

“I will take away their stony, stubborn heart and give them a tender, responsive heart” (Ezek.11:19). You began this great, grace work inside us when you redeemed and adopted us, but we look forward to the Day when all stubbornness will be gone from our hearts and only tenderness will remain.

“I will heal the brokenhearted and bind up their wounds.” (Ps.147:3). Thank you, Abba. I get tired of being me—especially when I take my heart wounds and weaponize the pain or try to distance myself from the possibility of more heart-hurt. You’ve brought much healing already, but I crave more.

It’s only because of you we don’t totally lose heart, Abba. Heavy hearts, crushed hearts, fearful hearts, divided hearts, angry hearts—you welcome one and all alike. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, on this January Sunday, we are grateful you are peacefully, joyfully ruling the cosmos from the throne of grace. Yours is the most ready and kind welcome we will ever receive. You abound in burden bearing love and rest-giving grace. That is good news every day, including this one.

Yesterday you gave me an image that I cannot get out of my mind, and I don’t want to move on from until I personally respond. With the eye of faith, I saw four really nice leather backpacks—each attractive to me for very different reasons.

The first backpack is chock-full of past regrets and accumulated shame. The second backpack holds bruised/broken relationships, resentments, and unforgiveness. The third backpack contains the pressure, stress, and worries that come with trying to fix or change people. The fourth backpack was specially designed for your “easy yoke and light burden.”

I felt your Spirit’s witness, telling me to choose only one of these to carry for the rest of my life. The choice is a no-brainer and full-heart-er. Of course, I choose #4, Jesus—your “easy yoke and light burden.” #4 is the only backpack that actually carries us more than we carry it. But I woke up today realizing, that means I have to leave the other three backpacks behind.

And though that is the right, freeing, Gospel-thing to do… It’s not easy, Jesus. So HELP! Every time I’m tempted to reach for one—or all of those other three backpacks—supernaturally, providentially, kindly “swat my hand,” Jesus. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Therefore, “be joyful in hope, patient in trouble, constant in prayer” (Rom.12:12).“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope” (Rom.15:13).

Lord Jesus, it’s one thing for us to have hope, but quite another for hope to have us—to live as those who have been captured, “imprisoned,” made to abound in hope. May it be, Lord, let it be indeed.

What would that look like? Thankfully, it wouldn’t mean we’d be on an emotional high all the time, for that would be exhausting for us and scary for others. Neither would it mean we’d pressure friends to “see the silver-lining in every cloud” or “make lemonade out of all lemons.”

Indeed, the hope you give us doesn’t turn us into joy-police—giving out warning citations, then tickets to the downhearted and melancholy. Good heavens no. Literally, as heaven is good, hope won’t make us dispensers of hype, but conduits of your kindness and compassion.

The more hope we have, the more patient we can be in our troubles (Rom.12:12) and the more present and caring we will be with our friends’ heartaches, suffering, and struggles. After all, “bruised reeds and flickering wicks” loved it when you came close (Matt.12:20: Isa.42:3). May the same be true of us, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, thank you for making this so clear in your Word: Between Jesus’ resurrection and return, we will experience both “inexpressible, glorious joy” (1Pet.1:8), and circumstances that make us loudly cry, “How long, O Lord?” We shouldn’t be shocked at how wonderful and how hard life can get—sometimes in the same week, or day. Delight and Despair are not mutually exclusive.

You began a “good work” in us—and all creation, that you will complete (Phil.1:6). Until then, nothing will separate us from your love, catch you off guard, or alter your eternal plans for any-and–everything. So here’s our Habakkuk-like prayer:

• When grace doesn’t feel sufficient and life is harder than the Gospel is sweet—we will worship and trust you, Abba.
• Though people fail us, evil laughs at us, and your timetable makes zero sense to us—even then, we will love and look to you.
• When our own brokenness and weaknesses mock us—especially then, we will listen to your Spirit telling our spirits we are “belovedly” yours (Rom.8:16)
• In the seasons when “mystery” is riding shotgun in the passenger’s seat, and our “peace” is buried somewhere in the trunk—we will collapse on Jesus, “inwardly groan, and eagerly wait” (Rom.8:23).

                                               SO VERY AMEN

Heavenly Father, we carry many types and sizes of “cares” in life—small, mid-size, and large ones. We have cares related to our vocations, the future, our favorite sports team, weather fronts—we can turn anything into a care. But the most critical cares we have are “heart-cares”—the situations and stories that impact our innermost being.

As our Father of compassion and God of all comfort (2Cor.1:3), no one is more committed to giving us the care we need, and catching the cares we cast (1Pet.5:7). Thank you, Abba. Your empathy and comfort bring us delight like oxygen “delights” gasping lungs, water “consoles” dehydration, and sunlight “encourages” the darkness. In other words, Abba, you’re not an add-on but our everything.

On this January Thursday, we cast every heart-care we possibly can on you. For the ones we have a hard time letting go of, Abba, pry them from our frozen grip. For the ones just too heavy for us to lift to your throne of grace, send the right sisters and brothers poised with burden-bearing love.

Just like “this is the day you have made,” 2025 is the year you have made. It’s yours to orchestrate, not ours to vex about. You aren’t nervously pacing from afar, you are peacefully making all things align with your purpose and will (Eph.1:11).  You are so loving, faithful, sovereign, and kind, Abba. Hallelujah, thank you, and So Very Amen.

Abba, Father, we have no clue how all things are going to work out, but we DO know you are working in all things for our good and your glory. Make this truth more powerful, peace-giving and precious to us than ever. We don’t know to what degree broken relationships will be healed before we die. We don’t know how much redemption you’re going to bring before we enter heaven to our messiest stories, heaviest heartaches, and most painful scenarios.

But we can be certain—because you don’t lie, that nothing in our past, present, or future is excluded from the glorious affirmation of Romans 8:28. You are at work in “all things”—not in “some things,” “most things,” or in all things except the bad things we brought on ourselves. All means ALL—just like Jesus’ promise to make ALL things new.

Abba, we will continue to pray, work, and hope many things will work out well and wonderfully. But keep freeing us from making our peace and joy more contingent on outcomes than on you. Though a lot separates us from having control, nothing can separate us from your love. So Very Amen.

Abba, Father, sometimes our ache is more real than our hope, and waterless angry tears start pooling around our feet. Enough doesn’t feel like it’s enough, and sufficient grace seems quite insufficient. The wait becomes a weight we cannot bear, and our expectant cry, “How long, O Lord?” becomes a frustrated blurt, “Really, God?”

How we “steward” those moments, days—sometimes months and years, is critical, health-impacting, and life-defining. Thank you for being the “Father of compassion, multiple mercies, and God of all comfort”—when that’s real and sweet to us, and when it’s an affirmation we only make by distant memory and faith.

When our defeated enemy starts chirping and muttering, whispering and screaming out lies like he did in Eden—you hold us tight, Abba, hold us tighter And when Ulysses-like sirens sing to us of a relief they cannot give, turn up the volume on the greatest song ever—your Spirit bearing witness to our spirit of our belovedness as your children and your faithfulness as our Father. We are tied to the mast of the Gospel with cords of your steadfast love and tenderness. Hallelujah!

Lastly, bring us or send us to brothers and sisters who have gone before us in this journey of suffering and waiting—those who can share their stories, listening, and encouragement. Sweet, gentled saints who bear the marks of normal suffering in a fallen world—and carry the wounds of unjust harm by the hands of evil—they are a gift beyond calculation. Thank you, Abba, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, by your reckoning, there are two things we can’t get too much of all the way Home—encouragement and hope. And the best news is, you and Abba are tenaciously committed to giving us both of these graces all the way Home.

Our first major “installment” of encouragement and hope came when you saved us, Jesus—when you raised us to newness of life in yourself. You gave us a new heart and your perfect righteousness, the assurance of our salvation and heavenly citizenship, a place in God’s family and a place in your Story—and that’s just 6 of uncountable grace riches.

So how does our eternal encouragement become fresh and daily encouragement? How does the good and sure hope of heaven become functional and powerful hope for today? As so clearly revealed in these two verses—it’s through intentional fellowship with you and Abba (1Jn.1:3). There is no substitute for time and heart investment in walking with you, Jesus—contemplating your truth, goodness, and beauty (2Cor.3:18)—surrendering our thought-life to you, and the heart-enflaming wonder of the Gospel (2Cor.10:5; Rom.12:1-2; Phil.4:8). Help us. Free us, Lord.

For you intend to give us the same kind of glorious “heartburn” you gave those you walked with just after your resurrection. We usually read these words with envy, help us pray them with anticipation, Jesus: “Weren’t our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?” (Lk.24:32). Through the Word, by your Spirit—grant us the same Jesus, that we might live and love to your glory. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, that you are jealous for our love is humbling and astonishing, and it is gloriously true. For you have made us your bride by the price of your life, and delight in us with a passion beyond the limits of our imagination (Isa.62:45). No surprise Satan perpetually seeks diminish, divert—even destroy our love for you. When our hearts drift and our love cools, every other aspect of our lives loses.

We start thinking of ourselves too often—too highly or too lowly, but definitely too much of the time. We judge quickly, listening poorly, and forgive reluctantly. We spend less time in fellowship with you, and more money and anger on ourselves. Compliments taste like fudge and helpful feedback feels like an insult. We medicate our pain in unhealthy ways and busy ourselves with things that really don’t matter. Non-eternal concerns preoccupy our hearts and ordinary irritants get supersized. And that’s just for starters. Have mercy on us, Lord.

Keep rescuing us from our self-staring monologues and the seductions of Satan. By the Word, Gospel, dear friends, and your Spirit, may 2025 become a year in which we’re not just quoting a verse when we declare, “To me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” So Very Amen.

Gracious Father, the incidental pictures in the Scriptures are often brimming with providential treasures. This picture of a restless, stressed, downcast Apostle Paul comes like a kiss from heaven on the Saturday morning.

It’s wrong to assume if we prayed enough, believed enough, had enough of the Spirit’s fullness, we’d be doing “cartwheels for Christ” all the time. The Gospel frees us to be human, not Superman or Wonder Woman. Sometimes the most godly thing we can do is take a nap. All work and no play might make “Jack a dull boy,” but all work and no rest and restorative friendships will make Jack a workaholic timebomb—destined to burn out, blow up, and possibly finish life walking the mall, mumbling to himself, all alone.

Father, thank you for comforting us when we are downcast. You don’t deride, chide, or hide from us. You are “the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort“ (2Cor.1:3). So what does downcast feel like? Finding ourselves somewhere on the 1-10 scale of emotional exhaustion and spiritual depletion, mentally taxed and physically spent. The higher the number, the more likely we are to isolate from others and medicate poorly.

So, Abba, thank you for the comforters you send us—not fixers, narrators, busy-bodies, or “spiritualizers”—because sometimes we don’t need a verse and sermon. We need unrushed presence and compassionate listening.

Titus was just one of many you could have sent to Paul. Paul was a busy man, but not so busy he did have a Gospel Posse pretty much everywhere he went. I think of Barnabas, Epaphras, Philemon, Luke, and Timothy; Lydia and Phoebe, Priscilla and Aquila, Euodia and Syntyche … to name a few. Thank you for our “Titus’s and Tina’s,” Abba. Make us welcomed comforters too, Abba—even today. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, my love for this passage is impossible to exaggerate—for many reasons, a main one being Jack Miller (my spiritual dad) was always quoting this verse to me.

“Is it reliable?”—a question we ask when choosing an insurance company or home pest service, or when we buy a used car, new refrigerator—and especially a parachute. Dependability and trustworthiness are essential categories of life—especially when it comes to knowing you, and risking full confidence in your love.

So thank you for doubling-down on affirming the knowability and reliability of your love for us. You know how weak, fickle, and doubting we are; and you know that our need for your love is eternally greater than our need for oxygen, blood, and water. So when and how can we rely on your love?

• For our salvation: From beginning to end, knowing you and your love are by grace alone—the currency of your love spent on the bankruptcy and deadness in our hearts.
• In our brokenness and sin: You don’t love us more when we are neat, tidy, and intact. You give us daily mercies because we need them. Thank you Abba.
• When we share the Gospel: It’s not our smarts but your heart that is most at work in evangelism. None of us can raise the dead.
• In our difficult and messy relationships: We can rely on your love when the call to forgive is greater than our desire to forgive. And when it’d be easier to give someone “a piece of our mind” rather than the peace of your grace.
• As we face growing weakness and death: Your love, Abba, expels—drives and casts out all kinds of fears—the fear of death being a “biggie.” You will never leave or forsake us. You will hold us fast, all the way Home. So Very

Heavenly Father, what a revolutionary notion: Through our repentance, you bring “times of refreshing” to us—not a season of shame and days of groveling. For repentance isn’t about us making promises to you, but you making this grand declaration to us, “Jesus is enough!” Hallelujah, and thank you.

We await that glorious Day when you will send Jesus to us one final time. That Day will put an end to all repenting, for we will see Jesus as he is, and we will be made like him (1Jn.3:1-3). But even now you send Jesus to us—anointed and appointed for our complete salvation. Every time we hear the Gospel, feast on the Lord’s Supper, worship in Spirit and truth, see Jesus in the pages of the Bible—you are “sending” Jesus to us through the ministry of the Holy Spirit. Thank you, Abba.

The Spirit replays and turns up the volume on Jesus’ bold and loving declaration, “It is finished!” In this sense, to repent is collapse on Christ—to humbly affirm Jesus as our righteousness, holiness, and redemption (1Cor.1:30). And then we respond appropriately to whatever your Spirit is convicting us about—owning our failures to love you as you deserve, Father—and love others as Jesus loves us. Every sin, ultimately, is a love-failure.

The fruit of repentance is delectable, nourishing, and life-giving. We make amends—as opposed to doing penance. We offer repair—as opposed to withdrawing into shame. We take responsibility for what we have done—as opposed to sliding back into excusing, blaming, and minimizing. Indeed, many enjoy “times of refreshing” by our repentance. But mostly, and most importantly—the Gospel is demonstrated and Jesus is exalted. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, once again we come to your occupied throne of grace acknowledging our Gospel-amnesia—perhaps worse, our stubborn unbelief. We need to hear the Gospel every day because we forget it every day—or ignore it, or assume you couldn’t possibly love us like you say you do. How arrogant of us—how longsuffering of you.

Until the Day you glorify us, Jesus, our “best” days will need your grace as much as our worse days. How mighty and merciful of a Savior are you? You take great delight in us. You rest in your love towards us, and you quiet our restlessness and fears with your love. You rejoice over us with joyful songs—as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride (Zeph.3:17; Isa.62:5). Give us grace to believe this more than we ever have.

Hallelujah, you adorn us with salvation (Ps.149:4), we don’t impress you with our “save-ability.” When you first saved us, we had more in common with the mean stepmother than sweet Cinderella. You have covered our sin, nakedness, and shame with the wedding garment of your grace and righteousness. And you know we’re still a mess.

Having given yourself to make us your bride, Jesus, you are now changing, cleansing, and washing us—bathing us with the water of your Spirit and grace, and the truths of your Word. On the perfect Day, you will present us to yourself as a stainless, wrinkleless, blemish-less bride—holy and blameless (Eph. 5:25-27). Hallelujah, on Gospel-Steroids! So Very Amen.

Dear Abba, this is my 27^th year in a row I’ve taught a January Term class at Covenant Seminary, St Louis. And (Hallelujah!), this year it’s all about these two verses—the regal rights and glorious delights of our “Sonship”—how, through the Gospel you, make us your beloved daughters and sons.

I certainly pray for my class, but right now, Abba, I pray for my own thirsty heart, and for those who join me daily in this community of meditation, adoration and intercession. Gracious Father, turn up the volume of the Spirit’s voice in our innermost being—turn it way up.

Abba, let us hear the Spirit joyfully extolling the truth, goodness, and beauty of Jesus. For Jesus is now our righteousness, holiness, and redemption—the meaning and measure of your love for us. You love us as much as you love Jesus, and you will never love us less than you love Jesus. We believe this—help our unbelief. We used to really believe this—restore to us the fire, awe, and wonder of our Sonship, and our first love for the Son—Jesus.

By your Spirit, continue to free us from our slavish fears, Abba. May the Holy Spirit speak so clearly and loudly every dark voice will be muted, every deceiving lie will be silenced, all paralyzing shame will be melted.

By the Spirit of Sonship, make us more and more like Jesus—for you have promised that one Day we will be completely like him (Rom.8:28-30). Having freed us from all condemnation (Rom.8:1), free us a life of groaning and growing in grace—of being easily convicted by the Spirit, quick to repent, and perpetually returning to “Gospel-sanity.” So Very Amen.

This is what the Lord says to you: “Don’t be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle isn’t yours, the battle belongs to God.” (2Chron.20:15)

“Who are you, O great mountain? You shall soon become a level plain. And when Zerubbabel sets the final stone of the Temple in place, the people will shout:  ‘Grace, grace!’ to it”—for God deserves all the credit and praise. (Paraphrase of Zech.4:6)

Lord Jesus, in the conflicts and crucibles of life, you don’t call us to be either disengaged pacifists or fearful self-deliverers. You call us to be fully engaged worshipers, loving and trusting you with the outcome—doing the next “Gospel thing” until deliverance comes. And when you do bring deliverance—in, through, or from the “mess”—our shout should always be, “Grace! Grace!” For the battle, us, and the victory belong to you, Jesus.

Whether it’s a mere dustup, another broken relational story, or an all-out assault of evil—you “claim dibs.” Fear and panic aren’t the order of the day, faith and trust are. When it seems like wrong and ugly, evil and terror are winning—let us see heaven’s occupied throne (Rev.4:1-2), and hear the laughter of heaven (Psalm 2).

When family matters, work dynamics, or church stuff gets “dicey,” crazy, or worse—keep bringing us back to the Gospel expressing itself in trust and “faith expressing itself in love.” We can’t always makes things better, but we can easily make things worse. You tell us to “call down grace,” not fire—to wait on you, not wait for a chance to get even. Help us Jesus. Help us. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, thank you for being incomparably, relentlessly, extravagantly kind to us. How kind are you? Through our union with Jesus, we live in a perpetual state of your favor, affection, and delight.

You’re not kind until it “no longer works”—and you have to resort to being a bit harsh with us. Not at all… for it is your kindness that compels and leads us to repentance (Rom.2:4). Indeed, your kindness isn’t a sweet mood; it’s the loving fire of your heart that breaks and melts our hard hearts.

So we repent, Father, on this 1^st Sunday morning of 2025. We repent of refusing to believe you love us as much as you say you do (Eph.3:18-19). We repent of under-believing the Gospel. You don’t “put up with us” with strained tolerance; you put us “in Christ”—counting Jesus’ death and righteousness as ours, raising us to newness of life in him—even declaring Jesus’ life to be ours, and our future to be an eternity of sharing in his glory. (Col. 3:1-4).

Father, by the power that raised Jesus from the dead, enable us to love and live this one verse today, then tomorrow, and the rest of our lives: “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you” (Eph. 4:32). So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, we begin 2025 more “in Christ” than we are in any mess, troubling circumstance, heartache, or relational challenge. But what does this look like? How are we to live and love to your glory when it’d be easier for us to withdraw and medicate for our comfort? You haven’t left us in doubt. Thank you.

  “Do what is just and right” – Having fulfilled the law for us, you are now revealing your beauty through us. A life of justice is to love others as you love us—with truth and grace. It means we are always asking a simple and sacrificial question: What does the Gospel look like in this situation—what is the next Gospel thing to do? Show us, Lord.

“Love mercy” – Jesus, how can we not love your mercy? It’s the extending of it that gets challenging. As you are merciful with us, so we are to be merciful towards others. When “severe mercy” is called for, may we offer it with tears not temper. Forgive us for indulging a condemning, critical, “Javert-like” (Les Misérables) spirit towards anyone. Free us, like Jean Valjean, to be both kind and uncompromising in the face of injustice—advocating for poor, marginalized, and oppressed.

“Walk humbly with your God” – Humility should come easy for us, for we have a lot to be humble about, Jesus. But to walk in humility with you requires investment of time + a lack of hurry + feasting on the Gospel + adoring love + convictable hearts + Gospel-friends + a love for repentance. May these 7 be as daily for us in 2025 as your mercies are daily. So Very Amen.

“The devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour“ (1Pet.5:8).

“Don’t let the world squeeze you into its own mold…” (Rom.12:2 – Phillips).

With amazement, Stephen proclaimed, “Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man—Jesus, is standing at the right hand of God.” (Acts 7:56)

Lord Jesus, like every other year, month, and day—2025 will be a year in which we will encounter powerful influences. We don’t need to be paranoid, but wise. We don’t need to look for “a demon under every rock,” rather we need to lock our gaze and set our affections on you—the Author, Treasure, Perfection, and Perfecter of our faith. Because …

• Sin isn’t just “crouching at our door,” it also lives inside us—enticing, tantalizing, lying. It seeks to seduce, control, and obliterate us.
• The devil—our defeated foe, knows his time is short, and that he’s lost us for eternity. So he’s always looking for ways to impact us with “larceny, lies, death, and destruction” (Jn.10:10).
• The world—not the physical creation you made, love, and will redeem. But the “world system”—with its values and idols, Abba-denying illusions and delusions. Unless we resist, it will “squeeze” us into a Jesus-void mold.

Jesus, that’s why, like Stephen, we must see you standing in triumph and tenderness at our Father’s right hand. You stand as our last Prophet—the “Yes” to every promise God has made. You stand as our wonderful, merciful High Priest—always advocating and interceding for us. You stand as our King—ruler of the kings of the earth, and the one who is making all things new. You stand as our Bridegroom—getting reading to run “down” the isle from heaven, to have and hold us forever. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, this is a tragic story with a shocking outcome. Joseph’s brothers sold him to pagan strangers, who took him to Egypt where he ended up spending 13 years in an Egyptian prison. Twenty-two years after being trafficked, Joseph confronted his brothers with their evil and proclaimed your sovereignty over that evil. Then he kindly comforted them—pledging safety and provision. Say what?

While this series of events encourages us, it also triggers emotions and raises questions. Abba, as you know, many of us begin 2025 somewhere in this story—victims and agents of the unthinkable, waiting and praying for a redemptive outcome, not sure why you’d even let some things happen. Help us, for we all have a little of Joseph and Joseph’s brothers in us. We all equally need your grace.

The good you brought out of this evil is glorious—but the evil itself is disturbing. As we begin 2025, we are grateful the “smell like Christmas” is still on us. By sending Jesus into our world, you made clear how much you love us and hate evil. Jesus came to redeem us and destroy evil—only He can do both, and we are grateful Jesus did/does/will do both unto completion.

So how do we relate to this story January 2, 2025? Whether our deepest hurts come through the hands of people we trust, evil in a fallen world, or hard-to-understand-providence—we know the devil intends to use these things for even more evil. We don’t want that. We will resist him, and we will collapse on Jesus—hour by hour if need be.

Father, we know you do not intend us to use Genesis 50:20 as a spiritual Band-Aid—on ourselves or on others. So may the greater Joseph—Jesus himself, bring his kindness, comfort, and provision to us … and extend it through us. So Very Amen.

Dear Lord Jesus, I cannot think of a better way to begin 2025 than to make it a year of pondering your grip—of coming alive to the glorious reality and implications of being held in your hand and heart. This isn’t a year for “white-knuckling our way through life” or of “barely holding on,” but of taking hold of why you took hold of us. Hallelujah, yours is a grip of grace and no one will ever snatch us from your hand (Jn.10:28).

Thank you for taking hold of us before we drew our first breath—for you knit us together in our mom’s womb (Ps.139:14). Jesus, help us remember this every time we look in a mirror.

Thank you for grabbing us in the tomb of our spiritual death and raising us to newness of life in the Gospel. You didn’t throw us a life preserver on a rope, for ours was a lifeless grip. From beginning to end, our salvation is totally by your grace.

Thank you for holding us now like an enthralled Bridegroom embracing his beloved Bride—for that is the affection with which you love us. You hold us tenderly and tightly, and you will “hold us fast.”

Thank you for holding us like a mighty and merciful King—for that is who you are, Jesus. Indeed, we are married to the King of the cosmos, who is making all things new and beautiful. Nothing will separate us from your love. No enemy coming against us will prevail.

It’s not always easy to fathom or like, but you are sovereign over every heartache and hardship we will experience in life. When people mean things for bad and evil against us in this life, you mean them for good—eventually for the blessing of many others (Genesis 50:20).

Lastly, thank you, Jesus—not just for holding us but also holding the grace-ink filled pen with which you are writing the rest of our stories. Why have you taken hold of us? Because you love us. What all do you plan for us in 2025? We don’t know, but we can trust your nail-scarred hands as you hold us, carry us, and write our stories. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, I can’t think of three better affirmations to make in the waning hours of 2024 and the beginning of 2025. Two aging apostles—John and Paul put words to what we believe, desire, and celebrate: You have freed and love us. We want to know and love you more. You don’t just give us life, Jesus, you are our life—eternal life. Hallelujah times 10,000!

We’ll never over-love you, Jesus. We’ll never push the limits of your patience or out-sin the depths of your mercy. We’ll never finish mining the riches of your grace, exhaust the wonders of your love, end the banquet of your goodness, or absorb the fullness of your beauty.

There’s so much more, but as we enter 2025, we affirm these 7 grand Gospel-realities about you and your relationship with us:

Christ Above Us: Jesus, you are already King of kings and Lord of lords—sovereign over our pain and joys, every nation and every nanosecond—at work in all things for your glory and our good.

Us In Christ: We are saved through our union with you, Jesus, not by our anything for you—good works or salty tears. You are 100% our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1Cor.1:30)

Christ In Us: Because you live in us, Jesus, our hope of heaven and being completely like you one Day is certain. Oh the peace and joy this gives us.

Christ For Us: Jesus, with you “for us,” who or what can be against us? We say to our fears, anger, and self-pity, “Be gone!”

Christ With Us: Until heaven, we will never experience a Jesus-absent day. Sometimes hidden, sometimes more real than anything else—but you will never leave us.

Christ Under Us: When (not if) we fall, you catch us, hold us, and re-center us. When we cry, “Have mercy! … You always do.

Christ Towards Us: Jesus, you are coming back as our joyful, loving Bridegroom. Hallelujah, maybe in 2025, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, on the cusp of saying goodbye to 2024 and hello to 2025, several images of transition come to mind: Finish with a flourish. Go out with a bang. Leave it all on the field. End on a high note. Close the door on your way out. But we’ll never choose better than following Paul’s advice to Timothy—“Be strong in the grace of Jesus.” O, to finish this year, and begin the next, strong in your grace.

What are other options? Well, we could finish 2024 with a big pity party—filling the air with the confetti of comparisons, resentment, envy. Or we could end the year paralyzed by our fears—but that would be going out with a whimper, not a bang. We’re still wired to end a year making resolutions—but hopefully, we know the Gospel better than that.

Ending 2024 “strong in grace” means we’ll gladly finish the year honest about our weaknesses, aware of our cravings, and boasting only in you, Jesus—for you are our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1Cor.1:30)—our very life and hope of glory (Phil.1:21, Col.1:27).

Did people disappoint and hurt us in 2024? But of course they did. Did we disappoint and hurt people—including people we love? Yes, sadly, yes. Did things happen to us and around us that we don’t understand, like, or “get”? A big “Yep” to that. Are you working in those things for our good in ways we’ve yet to see? Yes, thank you, and help us see your heart and hand at work.

To finish 2024 strong in grace won’t be to finish strong is something, but Someone—in you, Jesus. It is you we earnestly crave—and it is us you intensely love Jesus. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, you never intended our lives to become fragmented and frazzled, but freed and filled with yourself. You didn’t come to be first in our lives, but to be our lives—to be our delight, righteousness, meaning, and treasure; our reason for being and hope of glory. It is your intent and joy for us to grow into what Paul meant when he declared, “To me, to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Phil.1:21). Take us there, Jesus. Take us back there.

The Rich Young Ruler had many things—really, everything … except the essential thing—you, Jesus, you. You “had” Martha, but many other things distracted and “had” Martha. King David’s unharnessed desires took him to destructive choices and bad outcomes, until you, Jesus, became his consuming “one thing.” The Apostle Paul was capable of multitasking on steroids, but his “one thing” became “the surpassing excellency of knowing you” (Phil.3:8-9).

Jesus, if we have never known you in such a heart and life consuming way, take us there in 2025. If we remember days of unfiltered delight in you, and the embers of our first love remain, blow upon them, Jesus. Reignite our passion for you, and delight in you. Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, many of us enter this December 26th over-stuffed, under-slept, quite-tired, and truly grateful. Whether our Christmas gatherings have been sweet and easy, or tense and sad, thank you for coming into our broken world for broken people like us.

You didn’t come because we needed a personal valet, party concierge, or on-call masseur. Our greatest need is for a Savior who overflows with grace and truth—in copious amounts. You “fill the bill,” even as you “fill all things everywhere with yourself” (Eph.1:23).

No one understands messiness and brokenness like you, Jesus. Even your birthing experience underscores this. When you were a day-old, a “5-star” inn didn’t open up for your family, close to the best medical center with great post-natal care. In fact, soon your family would take you to Egypt, because evil (Herod) was determined to eliminate you early.

But this wasn’t an “unforeseen inconvenience.” For you didn’t just come to make your blessings flow, but also to stop the flow of all evil and brokenness. With your first breath in Bethlehem, and last breath at Calvary, everything changed. The promised Messianic kingdom of “righteousness, peace and joy” (Rm.14:17) showed up right on time (Gal.4:4-7).

Death began working backwards and demons started “quaking in their boots.” Sin and sickness, injustice and unkindness, mad and bad, harm and harming were all branded with an imminent expiration date. May that Day come soon, Jesus. Until then, give us grace for life in the already-and-not-yet of your Kingdom—and inside our own skin.

Help us not be shocked at how life, our relationships, and our own hearts will seem like the culinary contrasts of sweet and sour, cool and spicy, savory and acidic, creamy and crunchy. This is normal but not easy, so grant us merciful hearts, quick repentances, and Gospel-repair … ALL the way Home. So Very Amen.

 Lord Jesus, “in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” Ps.16:11

 “Joy will accompany them in their toil all the days of the life God has given them under the sun.” Eccles. 8:15

Abba, “may they have the full measure of my joy within them.” John 17:13

Lord Jesus, I’m sitting here in Franklin, Tennessee, early Christmas morning 2024 with music of your birth blasting, Scriptures about your joy dancing, and gratitude in my heart swelling. Thank you for coming to us, and for us, Jesus. Thank you for continuing to pursue us. Thank you for working for our joy more than we do. Thank you for giving us a joy, like your peace, that passes all understanding and transcends all circumstances.

You could have just come to us and overwhelmed us with your glory. But 10,000 times better, you came for us—to live for us, die for us, and make us your own. Hallelujah, and thank you! You came to seek, find, and save us—and you continue to do so—even after we come to know you.

We’re still capable of living like sheep without a Shepherd, wanderers without wonder, those on sabbatical from gospel-sanity. Many of us have been like Jonah—angry runners discovering we can’t outrun you. Or like Martha lamenting in sadness, “Lord, if you had only been here” (Jn.11:21)—when you never leave and have better stories waiting in the wings. Or like Peter, shamed and declaring, “Oh, Lord, please leave me—I’m such a sinful man” (Lk.5:8)—but we will never out-sin your grace, Jesus. Hallelujah, on steroids!

Jesus, for a love that will not let us go, we adore you. For a joy one Day we will know in fullness, we praise you. For grace to love whoever we are with today, we trust you. Hallelujah, and So Very

Lord Jesus, we can’t be certain about the month or day you drew your first breath in Bethlehem; but we do know it was “the set time”—the perfect moment of mercy, “set in grace” before the world began.

You came to us as Deity in disguise—never ceasing to be God, you became fully man—God’s Son as Joseph’s boy. Though the universe cannot contain you, you lived in Mary’s womb for nine months. Wonder of wonders—you became Majesty in a manger, Sovereignty wrapped in swaddling clothes, the Source of life sustained by his mother’s milk.

On the “eve” of your birth, we remember the riches of your grace, Jesus, for you came to redeem us—to save us from sin and death “that we might receive adoption to sonship.” Hallelujah, and thank you!

Though you were born under a sky with at least one big star marking the place, more so, you were born under the law. You came to do for us what we could never do for ourselves.

As the Last Adam, you fulfilled the law for us (1Cor.15:45-49).

As the Lamb of God, you bore our sin and took our judgment.

As the Grave Robber, you conquered death and arose to give us life.

As the Righteousness of God, you have become our righteousness.

As the Son of God, you have secured our adoption as Abba’s children.

On this Christmas Eve, 2024, we worship and adore you, Jesus. We need you, Lord. We crave your return and abandon ourselves to everything you are. You are So Very Worthy … So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, as we pray our way through this familiar scene of harking angels and scurrying shepherds, we confess our unbelief. This one phrase—“on whom God’s favor rests,” stops us in our tracks, takes our breath away, taps into our deepest longings, and exposes our stubborn unbelief. So help us, Abba.

So this is what you mean by the “boundless riches of Christ” (Eph. 3:8). To receive Jesus is to be transferred from the dominion of darkness and delivered into the kingdom of your beloved Son (Col.1:13). It’s to be—all by grace, rescued from slavery to sin and death, righteousness-bankruptcy, and spiritual orphancy (Whew!), and comprehensively forgiven, clothed in Jesus’ righteousness, and made your beloved children (Hallelujah!).

Father, we’re beginning to realize that eternal life isn’t just going to heaven when we die, but living in your love and delight while we live. Our prayer life often consists of asking you to “do us a favor.” But through Jesus, you give us your favor. Stunning, beyond all we could ask or imagine, hard to believe—but truly ours.

The deepest longings we have for intimacy, our constant craving to be seen, known and loved—you gave us these desires, and you intend to fulfill them. A loving spouse, kids and grandkids, a caring boss and fun co-workers—good friends, the elixir of romance, appreciation from peers and peeps—these give us joy, warm feelings, and make life easier. But, Father, only you can give us the favor we crave—your total acceptance, full delight, and unwavering love. And, Hallelujah, you have, Abba, in the Gospel you truly have. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, the next 72 hours invite us to fresh wonder, love, and praise—as we reflect on the breathtaking, eternal-life-giving marvel of your incarnation. Every other king is a baby before they are enthroned; but you left your eternal throne to become a baby. Other kings enter a city with fanfare and flash to impress adoring crowds. But you entered our world with smallness and humility to save helpless sinners. Hallelujah … and thank you.

I treasure the Apostle Paul’s self-description as “the worst of sinners”—for I finally understand what he meant. It’s the most healthy, self-aware, “emotionally intelligent,” spiritually mature affirmation any of us can make. Paul wasn’t comparing his “badness” to other people’s “goodness.” The more of your beauty and love he experienced, the more Paul owned his need for your daily mercies and grace-upon-grace. For we will only be fully like you when you return to finish making all things new.

Me too, Jesus, me too. The more I see your loveliness in the Scriptures, and the more I experience your lovingkindness in the Gospel, the more I realize I am not as joyful as you intend, as free as you desire, or as loving as I will be one Day. But hallelujah a gazillion times over—you don’t love me—or any of us, to the extent that we are already like you, but to the extent we are in you. That happens to be 100%, Jesus—one hundred most glorious percent. Hallelujah, you are our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1Cor.1:30).

What do we want for Christmas, Jesus? More freedom from under-believing this glorious Gospel, freedom to behold more of your beauty and love, and freedom “to do what is right, love mercy, and walk humbly with you” (Mic.6:8). So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, the affirmation “grace upon grace” is always precious to us and needed—especially the last 10 days of a year. Every Christmas season carries a certain amount of emotional drama, relational challenges, and opportunities for your presence and love to break in afresh.

Usually when I watch one of many versions of Dicken’s “A Christmas Carol,” I come to tears of joy when Scrooge wakes up to your kindness and grace. The same is true this year, but with a healthy addition. I’ve needed to recognize and own my abiding “inner Scrooge”—that part me that remains hair-trigger critical and lacking spontaneous compassion—that part of me which is not as free and kind as you intend, Jesus.

By your Spirit (thankfully, not by 3 ghosts in my bedroom) I see how my attitude of late has being saying “Humbug” without ever voicing the word. Thank you, Jesus, for the non-condemning convicting work of your Spirit. Because the Gospel is true none of us have to pretend, deny, or make excuses. Because the Gospel is good and beautiful we can risk honesty, humility, and repentance.

Jesus, for myself—and my praying friends who resonate with my need for a stale Humbug to morph into a fresh Hallelujah—we look to you for copious grace, multiplied mercies, and redemptive surprises this year. By your Spirit, sabotage our pity-parties and whine-fests. Humble, gentle, and gladden us to love others as you love us, Jesus. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Jesus created and orchestrates every atom and nanosecond in the universe. He commands every angel and the tidal flow of every ocean. Our hearts beat because of him, beauty exists because of him, and demons quake because of him. Kings are enthroned and dethrone by him, yet Jesus became dependent upon his mother’s milk for sustenance and her love for nurture. But he got even lower.

Jesus’ every thought , word, and action are as pure and beautiful as God is Holy, Holy, Holy. He receives and deserves the worship of angels and all creation. Yet he became sin for us on the cross. Having lived in our place, Jesus died in our place—taking the judgment we deserve. He wore swaddling clothes as a baby, no clothes as our Savior, grave clothes in his tomb, and clothes of linen and grace in his resurrection.

Everything he did, Jesus did for us—that he might make us his bride and clothe us with his righteousness. This is servant love. This is the love of God’s Servant—the promised Messiah, his beloved Son, Jesus. Love others as Jesus loves you, friends.

Bow in grateful awe and unspeakable joy. Bow getting low enough to wash other’s feet and enter each other’s  brokenness. Bow in hope and eager waiting for the Day when every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord, to the glory of God, our Father.” So Very Amen.

(A theological paraphrase based on Philippians 2:1-11)

   Lord Jesus, choosing between being worried and upset over hospitality details, and treasuring and pondering who you are shouldn’t be that difficult for us. But it often is. There is so much more of your beauty, goodness, and truth for us to behold and savor. And yet there are many things that make aggravation easier than adoration.

We don’t know if Christmas 2024 will feel more like a Hallmark Christmas movie, “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation,” “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “The Muppet Christmas Carol,” or “Die Hard.” But with our gaze transfixed on you and our hearts drinking in your beauty, we will see your heart and hand do more than we can ask or imagine.

From eternity through your incarnation—and right now from your position atop your throne of grace—you are near the brokenhearted, patient with the pig-headed, and gentle with the worry-weary. Hallelujah, and thank you.

Good Samaritans and bad characters, lepers and liars, tax collectors up a tree (Zacchaeus) and Pharisees in the dark (Nicodemus), “bruised reeds” (Isa.42:3) and “sons of thunder” (Mk.3:17)—you pursue, desire, and welcome each of us.

Jesus, you are the “one thing” that really matters—the only treasure worth treasuring, more ponder-worthy than anything else—the only Savior, period. We choose you because you first chose us. We love you because you first loved us. We would delight in you more fully, because you fully delight in us right now. Hallelujah and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, perfect sovereignty, not uncaring inhospitality, determined your less-than-ideal “birthing suite.” Nevertheless, the oft-highlighted image of “no room available” for you, deserves our reflection today. In what ways do we fail to “make room” for you, Jesus?

To start with, what a paradox—you “fill all things everywhere” with yourself, yet you desire current and robust fellowship with us (Rev.3:20). How could you ever be on the other side of our heart-door knocking? Is it our busyness, Jesus—or our pride, unbelief, or our stubbornness? To whom or what have we given our attention and affection above you—even in the place of you? Show us Jesus. Make it clear.

Most glorious and loving Jesus, thank you for making room for us in your heart. The Gospel is the greatest welcome and hospitality we’ll ever experience. Indeed, we didn’t invite you into our hearts, Jesus, you gave us a new heart. Humbly and expectantly, we welcome you today. Come, Jesus come.

We welcome you into the chaos of our hearts. Bring your centering peace.

We welcome you into our fears and vulnerability. Bring the reign of your grace.

We welcome you into our chilly, edgy hearts. Bring the flames of renewal.

We welcome you into our weaknesses and shame. Bring your kindness.

We welcome you into our unknown future, into our stories with chapters yet to be written—into our health and hopes, regrets and longings. Free us to love, trust, and serve you, Jesus. So Very Amen

Heavenly Father, we join Mary today in praise of your memory—what you choose to remember, and what you choose to not remember. Both are expressions of how you are “the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort” to us (2 Cor.1:3).

Mary sang about Jesus’ birth as the day you “remembered to be merciful.” Not implying you could ever forget to be merciful; or, as the “Ancient of Days,” experience a “senior moment.” Just the opposite, Abba, for you are faithful to every promise you have made, and every promise you have made is conceived, saturated, and pregnant with your mercy.

You promised Abraham that, in time, you would redeem an every-nation family for yourself, as numerous as the stars, sand, and dust (Genesis 12-17; Revelation 7). That’s how over-the-top the mathematics of your mercy actually are. And your gift of Jesus underscores that you, literally, spared no expense to be worthy of the name, “Father of mercies.”

Father, I end my reflection and prayer today with one of my favorite promises of yours. You have promised never to remember our sins against us (Hebrews 8:12; 10:17). Better than amnesia, this is your glorious commitment to remain constant in your acceptance, love, and delight towards us. How can you do this? Because you remember Jesus for us, you will never remember our sins against us. Hallelujah!

O Father, as your children of mercy, free us to remember to be merciful too … especially one week out from Christmas Eve. No matter the brokenness we will encounter in our family gatherings, workplace, and our web or relationships, may our first, middle, and last response emit your mercy and the aroma of grace. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, this passage both takes our breath away and gives us eternal life. You aren’t the “reason for the season”; you’re the meaning of life, history, and the cosmos. You don’t need us to put you back into Christmas. You put us where we could never otherwise be—in Abba’s family and favor, in yourself and your unfiltered delight. Our most present, eternal, and glorious address is “in Christ.”

Because you are the “tender green shoot” of Isaiah’s vision—the vital root emerging from the parched earth for the “greening” of our arid hearts and fallen world. Jesus, you created beauty, yet you became the one with “no beauty” for us. You took the vileness and ugliness of our sin to beautify and cherish us forever. Your love for us has no parallels or end.

You are the fountain of eternal pleasures and your laughter fills heaven. Yet, to redeem us, you became “the man of sorrows—acquainted with deepest grief.” You are the God of love who came near and got low—the lamb of God took our rebellion and sins, and bore our weaknesses and sorrows. Jesus, we don’t want a “merry little Christmas”—we want you. So Very Amen.

   Old Jerusalem will shed her “skin” and the New Jerusalem will emerge as an eternal domain of consummate happiness and beauty. Everyone who lives there will be a joy and give joy to each other. I myself will be chief Rejoicer and will delight in my whole family with a joy you cannot imagine. Never again will the sound of weeping and crying will be heard.” A theological paraphrase of Isaiah. 65:17–19

Heavenly Father, I’ve read this portion of your Word before, many times. I’ve preached this text, prayed it, and shared it with others. But with timeliness, freshness, and sweetness it is reading me today, more than I’m reading it. Like the rest of your Word—these words from Isaiah speak to my emotional exhaustion, voice my deepest longings, and pour grace-fuel into my hope tank.

And even sweeter, I know I’m not alone. I know there are others who join me in this daily prayer blog who are also asking, crying, praying, “How long, O Lord?” Our stories and messes differ, but we all long for the fullness of everything you have promised us through Jesus. We love the incredible “downpayment” and firstfruits of Jesus’ first arrival. And now we groan inwardly and wait eagerly for the “whole enchilada”—everything you promised about our coming life in the new heaven and new earth. Truly, how long, O Lord?

Father, you know the disruptive ache of the past 20 months for me, and the emotional rollercoaster I’ve been riding as someone who hates all theme park rides. You know my second-guessing, self-protecting, and conflict avoidant ways. And you love me. And you love my friends. And you will make all things new and. beautiful. We love you, Abba. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, it makes no difference if they were astrologers, wise guys, magicians, or kings. Their number—3, 5, or 7, is just as irrelevant as their arrival date—within hours, days, months, or years of your first breath in our world. The Magi came to you because you are an irresistible grace-magnet. You are the Savior who allures, draws, and seeks; then finds, saves, and treasures us. Thank you for being the author, object, and completer of our faith (Heb. 12:2).

You are saving a Bride for yourself as numerous as the stars, sand, and dust—a number so big it’s impossible to count (Rev.7:9-10, Heb.11:12, Gen.13:16). You are doing so by the ordinary means of grace and the sovereign work of your Spirit, by friend-to-friend evangelism and angelic visitation, by churches being planted and creation declaring your glory. This is the meaning of history, the heartbeat of heaven, and is happening not-stop “far as the curse is found.”

Indeed, you are more active in raising Lazarus’s and Lazarette’s from spiritual death than we realize, believe, and trust. We are awesome at fearing and worrying, while you are active and joyful at saving. Our humble, grateful ask is simply this: Jesus, by whatever means you choose—bring our family members and friends to a saving knowledge of yourself.

We have friends who are so religious but so lost. Others who are so shamed and so certain you could never love them. Others who are cynical, angry, and are bent on destroying any reference to you—just like Saul of Tarsus was before you made him Paul the Apostle. Give us great joy in loving whoever is in front of us, Jesus. We’ll leave the saving to you. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, our holy ache for your return often collides with unkind attitudes we can cop. This collision takes place at the intersection of our brokenness and our longings. We crave the Day when it will be impossible for us to be irritated, resentful, critical, or even “edgy” with each other.

Indeed, we are destined to be made perfect in love. Hasten that Day, Jesus. But as with your first arrival so with your final arrival, that Day will come in the “fullness of time”—which is “Abba Time.” Abba’s timing is never late and never early, better than Swiss and always full of grace.

That you were born under the ceiling of a stable, not on a “Hallmark Movie” set, is awe-inspiring to us, Jesus. But that you were “born under the law” is every-thing-transforming for us. It’s why we don’t give into condemnation and shame for the ways we will still hurt each other and love so inconsistently.

For you didn’t come into the world to convenience yourself, but to redeem us. Because you lived for us and died for us—we are no longer slaves to sin and death, but are beloved children and guaranteed heirs of our heavenly Father’s everything. Hallelujah, and thank you!

So in light of everything you have done for us and will finish in us, free us to love quicker, deeper, and longer, Jesus. Grant us grace to love others today as you love us; and grant us quick, humble, sweet repentances when we don’t. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, in Paul’s account of your birth, there are no harking angels, trembling shepherds, or awe-filled parents. But you are there—front and center, above all and lower than any. The Gospel is without parallel. Nothing is as necessary and glorious. Thank you for coming to us and for us.

Though you never ceased being God, you truly became man—the God-man, the fulfiller of every God-promise—the king of the cosmos cradled in a stable. Prophets searched intently, angels longed intensely (1Pet.1-10-12), and we are the primary beneficiaries.

You obeyed God’s Law perfectly on our behalf, then you took our judgment fully. Raised as our Justifier, ascended as our Mediator, reigning as our King, returning as our Bridegroom—the incalculable riches of grace are ours now and forever. Jesus, is it possible to simultaneously fall down in silent wonder, and shout and dance before you?

For the rest of our lives, free us to think of you more highly and more often than we think of ourselves, or anything. Fill our lives with your selfless humility, servant joy, great love, and living hope. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, we will exhaust the wonder of this passage when… well, never. With my friends, I am thankful we encounter this glorious passage between your first and final coming. You’ve already come as the promised child-Savior, and you will return as our longed-for King and Bridegroom. Knowing the government of the entire world already rests on your shoulders fills us with a joy second to knowing your shoulders fully bore the guilt of our sin.

You are a Wonder of a Counselor. All the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hidden in you (Col. 2:3). But you didn’t come just to give us advise, but to give yourself. You are “our wisdom from God—our righteousness, holiness and redemption” (1 Cor. 1:30).

You are Mighty God, creator and sustainer of the entire universe—the One by whom and for whom all things have been made (Col. 1:6). You sustain everything by the power of your word (Heb. 1:3), and one Day all things will be summed up in you (Eph. 1:10).

Jesus, to see you is to see the Father, and to know you is to know the Father. In this sense you are Everlasting Father. We would never be able to cry, “Abba Father,” if you hadn’t first cried, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit” (Lk. 23:46).

You are Prince of Peace—only you deserve this title for you paid the price of our peace. Because of your finished work, Jesus, God is at peace with us, and we have peace with him. All hostilities and dividing walls will eventually crumble under the weight of your grace.

Everywhere sin and death have done their worst, you claim as the domain of your redeeming love. Your blessings, government, and peace are flowing “far as the curse is found.” Hallelujah, and come back soon, Lord Jesus! So Very Amen, we pray.

Lord Jesus, I woke up today feeling the weight of friends’ stories and the wait of deep longings. I’ve never been more grateful for your promise and provision of    “grace upon grace.” In the past several weeks, I have 3 different friends with brain surgeries—not to mention other body parts under repair. And many of us are still holding out for the last scene in the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Resolution and redemption, a happy gathering and good ending would be “wonderful,” indeed. But whatever this Christmas season proves to be, you always prove yourself to be a most wonderful, merciful Savior.

We pray for friends facing their first Christmas with an empty chair and hole in their heart. Grant special grace for families still reeling with loss and grief. Hasten the Day of death’s termination and eternal celebration—no waiting rooms or recovery rooms, no more funerals parlors only resurrection parties.

We also pray in light of different relational scenarios each of us has. During the holidays old wounds get triggered and brokenness gets neon-lighted. Messy relationships seem messier and loneliness feels its loneliest. No one understands these things better than you, Jesus.

The world into which you were born was filled with constant craving and power grabbing, relational madness and deep sadness. Yet you don’t shy away from any of this stuff, Jesus. For you are Immanuel—God with us and for us.

Jesus, surprise us with your calming, healing, liberating presence in the coming days. Sweeten the bitter waters of brokenness with the new wine of your kindness. Free each of us to offer your welcome, forgiveness, and kindness—no matter what we get in return. Do more than we can ask or imagine, Jesus, because that’s what you love to do. Thank you and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, this oft-quoted verse both confronts and comforts us. It confronts that part of us that wishes you would simply “baptize” the plans we’d make for ourselves. We’d write stories that include little disruption, few surprises, and zero suffering. In essence, we’d choose a life requiring little faith, no waiting, and zero prayer.

But life between Jesus’ first and final arrival is all about waiting. Fortunately, we’re not waiting to climb into the dentist’s chair, but into the eternal joys of “all things new.” Until that Day, you are our true Home—and our past, present, and future are in your loving grip of grace. Hallelujah, and thank you.

Quite honestly, if we knew what you know, Abba, we’d worship more and wrangle less. We’d have more peace than “ulcers,” and give others more kindness than “snarkiness.” So, grant us fresh grace to wait—but not just “wait” as in patient trust; but also “wait” as in “waiters” who wash one another’s feet with your grace. We’ll never over-hear or over-believe, that until Jesus returns, “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself in love” (Gal.5:6).

No Abba, we don’t want you to be predictable or programable, or to cater to our every whine and whim. You gave Jesus to us and for us; so, of course, you’ll give us everything else we actually need (Rom. 8:32). Today that will mean grace to love others as Jesus loves us. Thank you, and So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, the season of Advent highlights—with neon blinking lights, your measureless mercy and mind-blowing generosity. But it also highlights the insanity of sin and 100% insufficiency of self-sufficiency, The promise of Immanuel came to one of Israel’s worse kings—Ahaz. Feigning piety, he “passed” on your offer preferring his illusion of control and addiction to power.

That’s why the promise of Immanuel is so precious to me. Like Ahaz, in much of life, I have wanted to be my own deliverer—or have you bring deliverance on my terms. It’s hard to own just how powerless and hopeless we are apart from you, Abba—but that is the first, second, fifteenth step to freedom.

Our need is far worse than we want to own. But your provision and love for us in Jesus is 10,000 times greater than we can hope or imagine. This is true throughout the Christian life—not just how we became a believer, but how we are to live as believers all the way Home. We need your grace not just to get us into to heaven one day, but to get “heaven” into us every day. So, unlike Ahaz, we won’t “feign piety.” We own our need, and we will gladly receive everything you have for us in Jesus. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, how we love Micah’s prophecies of your life and love for us. Having laid down your life as the Lamb of God, you’ve risen from the dead, and are now our standing shepherd—relentlessly caring, vigilantly protecting, and faithfully providing for us. But who is included in “us”? Who are the sheep you stand and shepherd with much tenderness and compassion? This question has fresh and profound meaning to me this December morning as I am hearing these grace-saturated words sung over me as I pray and write…

“O come, all you unfaithful; Come, weak and unstable; Come, know you are not alone. O come, barren and waiting ones, weary of praying, come. See what your God has done. Christ is born, Christ is born, Christ is born for you.” (“O Come, All Ye Unfaithful” by Bob Kauflin and Lisa Clow)

This makes us (me) want to weep and dance at the same time, Jesus. Because if only the faithful can come to you, then what about the rest of us? Many, maybe most of us, don’t think of ourselves as very faithful or full of faith. Many of us are struggling to love and weary of pretending—we aren’t just in a mess, but are a mess. It is to us the Holy Spirit is singing right now…

“O come, bitter and broken; Come with fears unspoken; Come, taste of His perfect love. O come, guilty and hiding ones. There is no need to run. See what your God has done. Christ is born, Christ is born, Christ is born for you.”

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Jesus you are our peace because you are our “righteousness, holiness, and redemption” (1Cor.1:30). So Very Amen.

   Zion, the whole earth, and all creation will be transformed into the new heaven and new earth. Knowing the Lord, and the glory of God, will fill everything just like salt water fills an ocean—which is completely”. Paraphrase of Isaiah11:6–9

Dear Lord Jesus, since you are the “Yes!” to every promise in the Bible, we worship and adore you for guaranteeing Isaiah’s hard-to-imagine vision of our perfect, peace-filled forever. Really Jesus? We’ll never again say or feel, “Lions, tigers, and bears, Oh my!”

But as much as we love the vision of life in the new heaven and new earth as a giant petting zoo, Jesus—immeasurably more so, we crave the Day when we will know and love as you deserve. No more merely “appreciating” or “greatly admiring” you—but flat out, full-bore, unfiltered, whole-being delight in you.

And secondly, Jesus, we will fully love each other as you perfectly love us. The New Command (Jn.13:34-35) will no longer be a command to obey but a joy to celebrate. All contempt, resentment, and meanness will be expelled by the wideness, long-ness, broadness, and deepness of your love (Eph.3:18-19).

Personally, I love dreaming of the Day I will never get irritated, be controlling, finish other people’s sentences, remember failures, or under-believe the Gospel again. Hasten the Day, Jesus, and help me and my friends love with a little more childlikeness and unselfishness this very weekend. So Very Amen.

Heavenly Father, those who know me best would not describe me as a patient, unruffled, cheerful wait-er. Long lines light my short fuse. Delays expose my control idols. Slow traffic triggers my quick irritability. But I am SO thankful waiting is one of your “strong suits,” Abba.

Hallelujah, thank you, and help us understand the ways we miss and resist a deeper experience of your graciousness. You are perpetually grace-filled toward us, and it is in your grace that we now sit, walk, stand (Rom.5:2), live, and sleep. But knowing you as a kind, gracious, loving Father is different than affirming our salvation is by grace alone through faith alone (Eph.2:8-10).

You are calling us to a richer, unrushed intimacy with yourself. That’s precisely what we need and want more than anything else. But the way we plan, schedule, and live the month of December wages a war against “unruffled stillness, undisturbed quietness, and unrivaled trust” (Isa.30:15).

Father, why am I (why are we) in such a hurry? Why my edginess, constant movement, and noisy heart? I repent, Father. Early in this season of Advent, recalibrate my heart to beat at the pace of grace. What will it profit any of us to give the most awesome Christmas gifts ever, send a record number of Christmas cards, not miss a single party, pageant, event at church, carol singing, wassailing—(whatever that is) … and yet end up exhausted and no closer to you and Jesus? (John 17:3). Thank you for wanting and waiting to give us your gracious self, not just more grace. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, in a world of hard providences, broken people, unfinished stories, and us having zero control … it is a source of immeasurable peace to know you as the God of “I am’s” and “I will’s”—not might be’s, could be’s, or “we’ll-have-to-wait-and-see’s.” Outcomes belong to you as surely as heaven, earth, and history belong to you.

Advent reminds us that Abba didn’t exaggerate when he made promises about you being Immanuel—God with us, and God for us. The Gospel is the boldest and grandest declaration of just how “with” and “for” us you actually are, Jesus. And since Abba gave you—his beloved Son, to us and for us, surely we can trust him with and for everything else (Rom. 8:32).

We now live in you, Jesus, and under your reign of grace (Rom. 5:21)—not in fear and by the math of karma. You are good, you are sovereign, and you are ever so trustworthy as we …

• Trust you with a loved one’s diagnosis, surgery, and future.
• Surrender our expectations, anxieties, and whatever is fueling our anger.
• “Dance” in broken relationships while Christmas music is playing.
• Accept changes we did not choose and stories we would not have written.
• Humble ourselves, repent, and take responsibility.

Jesus, we abandon ourselves to you right now as this day begins, is half over, or the sun is setting. 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 you will “pull off.” Hallelujah, and So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, we’re just 3 weeks out from Christmas Eve services, when these familiar words will ring out with invitation and great joy, “Peace to those on whom God’s favor rests.” It’s the declaration that makes me want to weep, dance, fall down in worship, get up and dance some more.

   Everything our hearts long for, and more than we can imagine, is lovingly jam-packed into the words of the angel who announced your birth. We invest a lot of our time and energy seeking both peace and favor. The problem is, we “set the bar” too low. We are too easily satisfied … and are just as easily dissatisfied.

Angling to be seen and known, craving connection, wanting to be wanted, longing to be validated and valued—in a romance that craves us, by children who adore us, through companies that promote us, in a world that celebrates us. But the favor of people will never be enough, and the peace they give is as fleeting as the morning dew.

The peace we crave can only be found in the favor you give by the price only you could pay, Jesus. It’s what Christmas is all about. It’s why you came into our world. From Christmas Eve to Good Friday, your cradle pointed towards your cross. There you took the disfavor we deserve to give us the delight we can’t imagine.

Jesus, it still overwhelms us to realize you took the disgrace of our sin to give us the full-grace of Abba’s delight. You became our sin, that we might receive and become the righteousness of God (2Cor.5:21). And now we live in the unparalleled, unwavering, unfiltered favor of God. We believe, help our unbelief, Jesus. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, this is one of the greatest joy-stories of all time. Both John the Baptist and you were still in your mother’s wombs, when your presence fueled John’s joy. This is amazing but consistent with who you’ve been throughout eternity. The fullness of joy abounds anywhere you are (Ps.16:11).

It’s the same joy you pray we will experience in full measure (John 17:13)—the joy you produce in us by your Spirit (Gal.5:22-23)—a joy that makes room for tears of empathy and the sorrows of life in our broken world. For Jesus, you were simultaneously a man of sorrows (Isa.53:1) and anointed with the oil of joy above everyone else (Heb.1:9). There’s no contradiction there—just beauty, kindness, and care.

Joy is now our portion, strength, and inheritance simply because you are near, Jesus. How near are you to us? At your birth you came near, journeying from heaven to earth to the cross. Through your life, death, and resurrection you now live in us, and our lives are hidden safely, deeply, and fully in yours. Hallelujah!

So we’re under no pressure to live devoid of sadness, be “up” for everybody, or short-circuit holy lament. Joy—your joy is a core of peace and hope you give us that can be explosive with loud rejoicing, gentle when entering the pain and grief of others, and liberating as we inwardly groan in the pains of childbirth, longing for your return (Rom.8:22-23). Jesus, pour more of THIS joy-oil all over us. So Very Amen.

Lord Jesus, how can it possibly be December 1^st already? All month long, please fuel our wonder and enflame our hearts with yourself. Take us “further up and further in”—slower and deeper into your truth, goodness, and beauty. We want to savor (not speed) our way through the coming weeks and treasured Scriptures about your two comings. Like this one…

Isaiah saw your coming as the arrival of our promised King—yet with images of shocking tenderness and deep affection. To be tended as vulnerable lambs, carried close to your heart all the way Home—what more could we possibly desire? Help us with our unbelief, Jesus.

This is who you are as our Good Shepherd December 1, 2024. But your journey from heaven took you first to the cradle, then to cross, on to the crown you now wear as you ruler of heaven and earth. Our journey into your arms took us through embracing you as the Lamb of God—the sacrifice for our sins, that we might know you as our loving Shepherd and perfect King. Hallelujah for the Gospel!

Jesus, we take Isaiah’s charge seriously. We too can shout with fearless joy because of who you are and what you have done for us. We know these things, the story, Christmas songs, and the rest. Heck, some of us already have our Nativity sets up. But, Jesus, help us KNOW them with fresh power, wonder, and adoring love. So Very Amen.