Having the Pharisees always around might have been much like having the Paparazzi, following, judging, watching, and recording all that you do. It must have simply been exhausting! On this day Jesus went into a synagogue on the Sabbath and noticed a man with a hand that was unable to properly function, described as “withered”…

In Spring I spend countless hours thinking about lambs, there is the anticipation of lambing, the process of lambing, and the shepherding of the growing flock now filled with tiny curious cotton balls with four legs. I have learned how to navigate complicated births and deal with the sadness surrounding loss but there is one…

Habakkuk is frustrated by all the violence, turmoil, and injustice that surrounds him. It pains to him to see such hurt and suffering. He is not writing to a group of people, he is venting to a perceived absent God. Have you ever felt like Habakkuk? I have. 2 O Lord, how long shall I cry,…

Our youngest child is three, he has a rich vocabulary and creative mind, if you are ever alone with him, he will talk your ear off. As the youngest there is a strong possibility, he has been coddled ever so slightly by me. He has countless ways to get my attention, the top of the lungs screech “MAAAA MA!” the persistent hit of “Mom, Mom, Mom” or the sweet coo of “Mommy.” When there is something that demands my undivided immediate attention, he does not waste words, he comes to wherever I am at, gets in the middle of whatever I am doing, and says in a direct and urgent voice, “follow me.”

I screw things up a lot. I grow impatient, I become frustrated with myself and others, I do not always floss my teeth as regularly as I should, and I seldom drink enough water. I could go on and on about all the ways I fall short, but I will spare you the time. We all screw things up, we all fall short.

If you live long enough in a broken world the burden of unforgiveness has penetrated your heart. Left untreated it will fester and rot, spreading from your heart into your mind, your eyes, and finally your hands and feet. When left untreated the things you feel, see, and do will be contaminated by the consuming rot of unforgiveness. I know. I have lived with unforgiveness in my heart I have experienced its damage firsthand. I have also watched it eat others alive from the inside out. Forgiveness is hard, our minds tend to operate on a scope, someone cuts you off in traffic for most forgiveness is quickly given, if someone hurts your child the pill of forgiveness is hard to swallow.

I planted four fig trees in my yard last summer after learning they could grow in my climate. I did not insulate them as I had planned and so far, there is no evidence of life, they are just dainty withered sticks. Time will tell if they grow and bear fruit or just become decorative sticks in my front yard. I was reading in Matthew about the fig tree and the lesson of the withered fig tree, chapter 21:18-22 (and Mark 11:12-14 where the story is also told). In this story, the fig tree is Israel when Jesus was alive. Israel had the lush foliage of a majestic fig tree but failed to bear fruit because they rejected the Son of God.

Imagine an extravagant restaurant meticulously decorated overlooking an incredible indigo ocean at sunset. You can hear the waves crashing on the shore from your perfectly appointed table and soft music plays as the waiter welcomes you and tells you about the evening specials. It is wonderful, but all you can think about is the cost, it is out of your budget, you should not have come, you are unworthy of this expense, this experience.

I was meditating on this verse as I snuggled on the couch with two of my dogs this morning. It has been especially busy in our household the past few weeks, packed with commitments, projects, and adventures. I am a little weary around the edges, and if you are anything like me the busier, I feel the less time I spend in stillness and worship. I become a trailblazing party of one and not a humble servant in need of my King.