On my son's fifth birthday, I sat in a cancer center six hundred miles away, watching chemotherapy flow from IV bags into my body. I was battling a rare form of cancer, and my need for a clinical trial took me away from my husband and three young kids for several months. My worldly hope was gravely threatened. My good health was gone, and it took my energy, my hair, and my predictable future with it. Instead of caring for my family, my days were filled with waiting rooms, blood transfusions, medical tests, and naps. I missed precious milestones with my kids and didn't know if I'd live to see more.
Sometimes Christians get confused about predestination and free will, as if they are opposites. We must understand that free will is not simply a pagan concept, though the pagan conception enjoys widespread approval. Christians also believe in free will, but the free will that we believe in is not the humanistic or pagan version of it. One secular idea that has been pervasive in the church today is the humanistic doctrine of human freedom that says that our will, even in our fallen condition, remains indifferent and equally able to incline ourselves to the good or to the evil.
The Gospel is simple, but it's not simplistic. It requires our whole life but begins with a simple "yes" to Jesus. The power of the Cross isn't found in eloquent words or clever theology, but in the life-giving, world-changing truth that Jesus saves. In a world filled with noise, distractions, and complications—even in the Church—it's vital that we return to the simplicity and purity of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The message of the cross is not complicated. It is profoundly simple, and yet simply profound.
Somewhere along the way, a lot of people accepted a role they were never assigned. They became the spiritual hall monitors—self-appointed enforcers of belief, behavior, language, and tone. Watching closely. Correcting quickly. Calling out publicly. All in the name of faith, truth, or being "biblical." The authority wasn't given. It was assumed. And the assumption has become normalized. In today's culture, especially online, moral and spiritual policing is often framed as courage.
The week before New Year's Day is a holy week for me personally. I have developed practices over the years to position my heart in the right place before I enter a new chapter of life. Just as I want to give thoughtful attention to closing a chapter well and opening the next one effectively when I'm writing, I also want to do the same in my life journey. One of the practices I have developed is to read through the book of Isaiah. As I read, I listen for God's invitations to me personally. Isaiah is such a great book because it encompasses the entire gospel and God's desires for us as His people.
Don't look back until you can laugh. Fast more than you feast. Do a 40 Day Fast this year. Do one every year. Reach out to the lost: They are very easy to spot and nursing homes have a bunch of very lonely shut-ins, etc. Pray with partners. If you don't have any, you need to get them. Take the lead. Recruit them. Set your phone alarm to remind yourself. Take communion every day. Meet with God. Thank Him. Schedule it. Put it on your planner. Take notes. Journal.
Giving is both worship and warfare. It's not a financial transaction—it's a heart revelation. From the beginning, God made it clear that offerings were never about the amount but about the motive. Abel and Cain both brought something to God, but only Abel's offering found favor. Why? Because Abel gave from devotion, while Cain gave from obligation. Abel took from his very best—the firstborn of his flock—and believed God would be pleased with it. Cain, by contrast, brought from the fruit of the ground, but not the first or the best. One gave in faith, the other in formality.
Even a lightness, even a lightness and a joy and a laughter begins to come forth in this house. A laughter, a laughter, a laughter. A joy and a lightness for the darkness has begun to be driven out. It has been absorbed by those who desire it. Yes, the darkness is being absorbed by those who desire darkness. And as it does so and as it happens, the light grows brighter, and the darkness begins to move off and the shadows become less.
The career you chose because it felt safe. The relationship you stayed in because you were afraid to be on your own. The version of yourself you perform because it's what everyone expects and you believe they love. It all works on paper. But inside, you start to feel hollow. The worst part is that you're not even sure when it happened. When you stopped listening to yourself. When fear, obligation, and other people's voices drowned out your own. This is what avoidance does.
In the back of my mind, in my oldest childhood memories, I remember sitting in the Hebrew school classroom and reading books we borrowed from the synagogue library. My favorites were always the pop-up books. There were books about Adam and Eve, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob, and Leah and Rachel (as well as all of their children). Those books were impactful because they told the history of my faith family, and how Israel came to be. There were other books such as David and Goliath, Noah and the Flood, and Samson and the Philistines.
Follow Up
