I think I just became a fan of the German language. I can’t speak a word of it, but any language that perfectly expresses how I exist in the morning gets rave reviews from me.

I am most assuredly not a morning person. More accurately, I am not a good waking-up person. Once I’m up and about and have a few gallons of coffee in me, I’m mostly sociable and normal and somewhat human. I can even sometimes speak complete sentences.

I used to be a night owl, but the older I get the more I feel like 10 pm is my new midnight. Whenever I try hanging out with 20somethings that really do stay out until midnight, the result isn’t pretty. But I can rock 5:30-5:45 pm like nobody’s business.

PS I really do look like the above picture in the morning. I’m fairly certain that I make that face every day before 7 am. It’s not pretty, folks.

O my Lord,
Forgive me for serving thee in sinful ways –
by glorying in my own strength,
by forcing myself to minister through
necessity,
by accepting the applause of others,
by trusting in assumed grace
and spiritual affection,
by a faith that rests upon my hold on Christ,
not on him alone,
by having another foundation to stand upon
beside thee;
for thus I make flesh my arm.
Help me to see
that it is faith stirred by grace that does the deed,
that faith brings a man nearer to thee,
raising him above mere man,
that thou dost act upon the soul
when thus elevated and lifted out of itself,
that faith centres in thee as God all-sufficient,
Father, Son, Holy Spirit,
as God efficient,
mediately, as in thy commands and promises,
immediately, in all the hidden power
that faith sees and knows to be in thee,
abundantly, with omnipotent effect,
in the revelation of thy will.
If I have not such faith I am nothing.
It is my duty to set thee above all others
in mind and eye;
But it is my sin that I place myself above thee.
Lord, it is the special evil of sin
that every breach of thy law arises
from contempt of thy Person,
from despising thee and thy glory,
from preferring things before thee.
Help me to abhor myself in comparison of thee,
And keep me in a faith that works by love,
and serves by grace.

“O Word Made Flesh, stand guard at the gate of my mouth. Be my voice this day that the words I speak will be healing, affirming, true and gentle. Give me wisdom to think before I speak. Bless the words in me that are waiting to be spoken. Live and abide in my words so that others will feel safe in my presence. Place my words in the kiln of your heart that they may be enduring and strong, tempered and seasoned with love and resilience. Give me a well-trained tongue that has been borne out of silent listening in the sanctuary of my heart. May my words become love in the lives of others. Amen” (Macrina Wiederkehr, Seven Sacred Pauses: Living Mindfully Through the Hours of the Day).

I know from personal experience how very easy it is to say the wrong thing or to refrain from saying what is right. Both generally come from a place of fear not of faith. Both lead to regret. Both are typically not the end of the world like we sometimes think they might be.

I need wisdom to know what to say, how to say it, and when to say it. I need wisdom to know when to keep silent and learn to listen well. I need to seek forgiveness from others when I wound with my words or with my lack of words. I need to give myself grace, remembering that while I’m not who I will be or who I hoped I would be at this point, by the grace of God I’m not who I was and never will be again.

“HERE IS A PLACE to remember that for Christianity, the final affirmation about the nature of God is contained in the verse from the First Epistle of John: God is love. So another way of saying what I have just said is that man’s deepest longing is for this love of God of which every conceivable form of human love is a reflection, however distorted a reflection it may be—’the smallest glass of love mixed with a pint pot of ditch-water,’ as Graham Greene says somewhere. And it is just for this reason that part of man’s longing for the love of God can be satisfied simply by the love of man—the love of friend for friend, parent for child, sexual love—and thank God for that, literally thank him, because for many people human love is all there is, if that, because that is all they can believe in.

But notice this: that love is not really one of man’s powers. Man cannot achieve love, generate love, wield love, as he does his powers of destruction and creation. When I love someone, it is not something that I have achieved, but something that is happening through me, something that is happening to me as well as to him. To use the old soap-opera cliche seriously, it is something bigger than both of us, infinitely bigger, because wherever love enters this world, God enters” (Frederick Buechner, The Magnificent Defeat).

“We ourselves love now because he loved us first” (1 John 4:19, Complete Jewish Bible).

“Whoever cannot be alone should beware of community. Such people will only do harm to themselves and to the community. Alone you stood before God when God called you. Alone you had to obey God’s voice. Alone you had to take up your cross, struggle, and pray and alone you will die and give an account to God. . . . You cannot avoid yourself, for it is precisely God who has singled you out. If you do not want to be alone, you are rejecting Christ’s call to you, and you can have no part in the community of those who are called . . . .

But the reverse is also true. Whoever cannot stand being in community should beware of being alone. You are called into the community of faith; the call was not meant for you alone. You carry your cross, you struggle, and you pray in the community of faith, the community of those who are called. You are not alone even when you die, and on the day of judgment you will be only one member of the great community of faith of Jesus Christ . . . .

Whoever cannot be alone should beware of community. Whoever cannot stand being in community should beware of being alone” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer).

In my life group this morning, we discussed the importance of community. We talked about how Jesus made it a habit to seek solitude with His Heavenly Father, yet also surrounded Himself with disciples and followers to pour into.

There is something to be said for going alone in prayer to God to lay out your concerns and requests before God. There’s also something to be said for being in biblical community with others who will encourage, challenge, uplift, and champion you. You need solitude and community.

In seasons of loss and trial, it’s not good to bear it alone. You need people who will help to bear your burdens just as you will at some point help to bear someone else’s burdens. That’s how community works.

We go to God alone in solitude so that we can be filled up in order to pour into each other in community, so that we can be better equipped to hear from God in solitude and serve Him in the midst of community. That’s how this grace thing works.

“When Jesus saw her sobbing and the Jews with her sobbing, a deep anger welled up within him. He said, ‘Where did you put him?’

‘Master, come and see,’ they said. Now Jesus wept” (John 11:33-35, The Message).

That’s the verse that just about anyone who ever went to Sunday School at any point can quote from memory without a second thought: Jesus wept.

It’s the shortest verse in the entire Bible, but I believe it says way more than just two words. It spoke to Jesus’ view about grieving and loss.

Jesus knew full well that He was about to bring Lazarus back from the dead. He also knew that one day He would resurrect Lazarus along with everyone else who had died after placing their faith in Him. Still He wept.

Why?

Jesus knew that death has never been the natural order of things. Death is a result of original sin resulting in a broken creation that doesn’t work like it was designed to work. Death is not what God had in mind when He spoke the worlds into being. Yet here we are.

It’s well and good to mourn loss. It’s right and fitting to grieve the passing of a loved one. Not everyone grieves the same, but everyone should grieve at death.

I attended a funeral for a friend who was a fellow deacon. As much as my mind accepted it, my heart kept telling me he should have been there. He’d be the one going around comforting everyone, giving them the big bear hugs he was known for.

We do well to weep over his passing even with the knowledge that he is more healed, more whole, more fully alive than ever before. He sees Jesus face to face and knows a kind of peace and joy that we can only dream about and long for. Yet we grieve.

Tears are the result of the now but not yet, the realization that everything that Jesus promised is sometimes so close that we can almost reach out and touch it but still just out of our grasp. This world is very beautiful but remains very broken. The ones we love may be in a better place but we still have to live in a world without their smiles and hugs and kind words. We have to miss them every single day until we are one day reunited with them.

Thanks, Ron, for showing me so much more of Jesus than I had known before. Thanks for awakening in me a compassion for the least of these. Thanks for loving your wife and family and friends and church so well. Thank you for being my friend. I will miss you for as long as I draw breath.

As my Facebook memories kindly reminded me, a year ago I was sitting at a gas station waiting on a tow truck after the radiator on my Jeep went kaput. Up until I saw that reminder, I had just about erased that day from my memory.

That was an eventful day, but not in the way I like my days to be eventful. At some point, I was sure that wrecker was never going to show up.

It’s way less stressful to look back in hindsight than it was to be in the middle of it. It also gives me a little bit of perspective — my car hasn’t had anything blow up or leak or quit working since then.

Sometimes, we get forgetful. We need reminders of God’s faithfulness in the past to help us remember how God will be true to His promises today. We need to read about past miracles to keep believing God still works wonders in the here and now.

That’s one reason to stay in the Word. Just about every page contains a promise or a recollection of who God was and is and ever will be. Just as God’s people failed and cried out for help in the past, we need to remember that we’re prone to wander and need God to come and find us from time to time.

Sometimes, we need to remind each other not to lose heart in the midst of difficulties because we remember all the stories of old when God was faithful then and will be faithful now and forever.

“It is when things go wrong, when the good things do not happen, when our prayers seem to have been lost, that God is most present. We do not need the sheltering wings when things go smoothly. We are closest to God in the darkness, stumbling along blindly. There is no such thing as belief without doubt or struggle” (Madeleine L’Engle).

As much as I would love for my walk of faith to be all sunshine and mountaintops and victories, I know that where I learn and grow best is in the darkness and in the valley and in defeat. Often, it’s the daily struggles and anxieties that teach me most.

But it’s also in those moments when I feel God’s closeness. Not to say that He isn’t close at other times, but it’s only when I feel my need of Him most that I feel Him the most. And that’s a very good thing.

I heard a pastor once who said that he doesn’t want someone who can only empathize with him. Then there are two people who are feeling bad. He said he wants someone who feels what he feels yet can actually do something about it to make it better. That’s Jesus.

Jesus has experienced the gamut of human emotion. The Bible says that He has been tempted in every way as we are and has experienced all that encompasses being human, yet He did not sin. You could say that while He was 100% divine, he was the most human person to ever walk on the earth.

I need someone in my corner like that. I need someone who understands when I just don’t have it in me. Someone who hears me when I say I believe but help my unbelief. Someone who can take my heavy burdens and can give me rest.

Jesus is all those things and so much more.

He’s the anchor in my storm. He’s the peace in the midst of my anxiety. He’s the center of gravity when my world feels like its flying apart. He’s my joy on good days and my comfort on bad days. He’s the way that leads me home, the truth that sets me free, and the life that is abundant and overflowing. He’s my everything.

I don’t know if you can tell from this picture, but there were spider webs all over the ground. I’d been hiking this trail for a long time and never noticed until recently.

I don’t know if it’s the way the light hits these webs that helped me see them for the first time. Or maybe I actually paid attention instead of being wrapped up in my own thoughts, as I can do from time to time. Or maybe it’s one of those things where once you notice it, you start seeing it everywhere.

It’s interesting how the slightest shift in perspective changes everything.

Once you shift from seeing your world through the lens of your troubles and trials and start seeing it through a God-filter, you see everything brand new and transformed. So what changed?

It’s the same world, same problems, same circumstances. But you’re different. You’re seeing things different. It’s almost like going from sleepwalking through life to finally being alert and awake.

It starts with “God, give me eyes to see the way You do. Help me see my life the way You see it.”

It starts with changing your mindset from entitlement to gratitude from cynicism to thankfulness. Giving thanks unlocks the miracles and allows you to see God at work in your world (thanks to Ann Voskamp for that bit of wisdom).

“Give me Your eyes for just one second
Give me Your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missin’
Give Your love for humanity
Give me Your arms for the broken-hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach
Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten
Give me Your eyes so I can see” (Brandon Heath/Jason David Ingram).