I could feel it happening again. It was my son's college graduation week, and my to-do list was expanding to unrealistic proportions. I would have to do more and move faster to get it all done. But I was tired; I could feel my energy and patience diminishing by lunchtime each day.  

Once, during a visit to Stockholm, Sweden, I took two of my sons to a golf course an hour north of the city. Getting there was not easy without a car. It involved riding a train and a bus, then walking two miles through rural countryside.

Becoming a Christian bridges the "infinite abyss" born of humanity's separation from God in the Fall, but it does not guarantee we will never stand at the edge of that abyss and feel its emptiness again. Even though Christ filled our God-shaped void at the point of salvation, there is still a chasm between where we are and where we will be, and we constantly sense it.

Throughout the Bible, God refers to himself as our Shepherd, as does Jesus in the New Testament. But shepherd is just one of many metaphors God uses to help us understand him and our relationship with him. Of all the metaphors in the Bible that he could have referenced in the birth announcement, why did he choose to highlight this one?

Whether seeking to unravel underwater mysteries, wondering what lies outside Earth's orbit, or forming attachments to others, our desire to "know" is a clue to why God created us.

A few summers ago, I took a pottery class. I thought making a pot looked so easy and fun until I tried to throw one on the wheel myself. Every attempt ended as an ugly lump of clay. It turns out that making a pot is not as easy as I believed. And neither is being made into something new.

A visit to Alaska, where every activity seemed fraught with danger, made me question my vacation choices. More importantly, it made me consider my highest priority as a parent.

I learned (the hard way) about the critical nature of sleep for health and functioning. But it took me a long time to learn that rest is also essential beyond the physical realm. Our souls need rest as much as our bodies. And the consequences of not partaking in spiritual rest can be even more devastating than those caused by sleep deprivation.

Too Much Times are perfect storms when our most demanding challenges meet our most significant weaknesses and can lead to our worst moments.

Comfort zones are those familiar places where we feel secure and have an illusion of control. We tend to avoid anything that could upset such blissful equilibrium or cause discomfort, so it takes force to propel oneself out of a comfort zone and into a novel situation. For me, that force is FOMO: the fear of missing out.

In 2021, a group kayaking off the coast of Scotland noticed a lone sheep at the bottom of a steep slope on an isolated, rocky beach. The creature followed them along the shoreline, plaintively bleating as they glided past.

Evaluating the causes of our anger and how we respond to it is not easy. The week I wrote this, I got mad at someone who almost side-swiped my car while they were texting. In a world chock full of moments like this and much, much worse, how can anger help lead us to Christian growth and maturity?

As Christians, are we subconsciously viewing our lives through the same lens as those who do not believe in God? Are we forgetting that our faith in Christ makes a difference in how we experience life events and how we interpret and share the stories of our lives?

A unique series of events brought me to a small stone house in the middle of a desert one hot summer day. The old cottage was tired but intriguing with its sagging, dusty floors, shabby furnishings, and curtains that crumbled when touched. With the air of a good poker player holding cards close to the chest, the structure made me wish the walls could talk.

One chilly fall day in 2004, I stood looking out my living room window, but my mind wasn't on the neighborhood kids playing or the changing leaves. Instead, it was hundreds of miles away, focused on my grandfather, who had called to tell me about his initial home visit with a hospice intake nurse…

Sometimes, I miss the daily life I shared with my kids when they were young, with its abundant opportunities to participate daily in their flourishing and be a buffer against the world's harsher realities. Now, every goodbye reminds me of my new role and what it means for my faith.

I often plan not out of wisdom and prudence but to reduce anxiety about the future. But no amount of good planning prepares me for "rogue waves," unanticipated and unwanted events that hit me out of nowhere.

Remaining strong to the end as a Christian and standing firm in the faith despite the inevitable funguses, infections, attacks, and storms in life is not something we can do alone.

There’s more to the act of celebrating than meets the eye. I learned this lesson through a hard experience when I was thirteen.

As humans, we can be so impacted by fear that we hide or shrink back when new opportunities arise. Fear can be one of the most significant barriers to accomplishing anything: we worry about failing, disappointing others, being laughed at, or even mocked.

Sheep can become cast on their backs in several ways, and so can we. In the spiritual realm, casting is a state of being discouraged in one’s soul.

Even after becoming a Christian, I remained a diehard subscriber to the world's notion that romantic love was the ultimate treasure in the quest for earthly joy and wholeness.

An encouraging reminder for those times when it feels like we are spiritually stagnating: God is always at work, even when we can’t see it.

We long for quiet time - yet when silence comes, we are tempted to fill it with more noise. What might we experience if we embrace the occasional silent night?

What if, instead of being thankful only for earthly blessings and relationships, we dove into the deepest well of gratitude?

We don’t develop separation anxiety - we are born with it. But the unease and stress that comes when we lose earthly loves – not just people, but beloved pets and even treasured comfort objects – illuminates our most significant need and longing.

Like waves of water and light, our words and actions have consequences. They ripple forward, but thankfully, also backward - all the way to the cross.