When the Lord Moves in the Heart of Man

Mountains sink and valleys rise
A person receives life when they die
On earth, there is nothing greater than
When the Lord moves in the heart of man.

A path back home in desperate need
A pardon received from a guilty plea
A peace surpassing all understanding
A shrinking distance to a love expanding.

A vein implanted, like a river unknown
That flows with a blood to soften stone
A beat that awakens, beats born again
When that stream reaches deserts within.

All this unfolds, with nothing greater than
When the Lord moves in the heart of man. 

A longing unmet, yet, in it, she craves
To long and long to the end of her days
A voice fearsome; deep with mystery feared
Yet so tender and holy, It draws her near. 

A bow, for our inability to be our own good
To be the righteous man, woman we should
A power, born from belief in the Perfect Son
That raises a new heart after the Risen One.

A Glory found in the joy of a Servant
That by suffering made sinners perfect
A glory in a refining cross and a throne of grace
And a desire to approach both unafraid.

All this unfolds, for there is nothing,
Nothing greater than
For every bit of this to unfold
When the Lord moves in the heart of man.

A flame greater than engulfs a bush, unburnt
He lifts us by the Spirit, mercy immersed
His glorious love sets our very souls ablaze
Sin destroyed and us, a new creation…
Afire forever with a heart changed.

For there is nothing greater than
When the Lord makes a new heart in man.

A silent, dreaded house opens its dingy door
The Incarnate indwells the broken boards,
Secret rooms, ruins and tombs; places made for
A Carpenter’s grace; His space now to restore
A drear place.
Dark memories He depletes
And builds a home as One, joyous and complete.

All this unfolds
With nothing greater than
When the Lord
Makes His Home in the heart of man.

It was announced last week that the United Methodist Church has removed Asbury Theological Seminary from their list of approved seminaries for pastors in their denomination seeking ordination. You can read about it from the UM News here and Asbury’s response here.

While not surprising given how far the UMC has moved away from traditional orthodox theology around the issue of marriage and sexuality, it grieves me nonetheless. Asbury has been the training ground for so many United Methodist pastors, and it’s sad to think about a Wesleyan denomination suddenly closing the door on a thoroughly Wesleyan seminary.  It’s sad to think about a place I love and respect and admire essentially being told they are no longer welcome. And it’s sad to think about the Asbury pastors I love and care for who are still in the UMC and are now forced to unnecessarily defend their choice of seminary.

I was a sophomore in college when I felt the call to ministry. After months of prayer and discernment, I decided on the United Methodist Church as the place to live out this call. Ashley and I visited several UM seminaries: Perkins at SMU, St. Paul in Kansas City, and Garrett Evangelical at Northwestern in Chicago. Our next stop was Asbury in Wilmore, Kentucky, “The Holy City” as it was called. Within minutes of stepping on campus, Ashley and I both felt the power of the Holy Spirit in that place and knew this is where God wanted us to be. I sat in on a couple of classes, and we attended Chapel where we were fortunate that they were singing what’s known as the Asbury Fight Song, “And Can it Be” by Charles Wesley (you can listen to it here). We moved to Wilmore in 1992 and spent three wonderful years there while getting my Masters of Divinity. We would move back to Wilmore in the summer of 1998 for a year-long residency doctoral program called the Beeson Program for Biblical Preaching and Leadership. While I never completed the D-Min, it was such a life-changing year for me for many reasons, one of which was that I learned from my mentor Dr. Ellsworth Kalas how to preach without notes!

Needless to say, Asbury means a lot to me. It also means a lot to our other pastors. All five of us attended Asbury at different times, and while we are no longer United Methodist, we are still all proudly Wesleyan. Each one of us greatly benefited from this place that taught us how to be, “Well-trained, sanctified, Spirit-filled, evangelistic ministers spreading Scriptural holiness around the world.” I thank God for Asbury, and I encourage you to join me in praying for them as they faithfully move forward in fulfilling their mission.

This creekside memory feels especially poignant in light of recent events. Over the last few weeks, the Southern Baptist Convention’s annual meeting has generated a wave of articles, social media discussions, and heartfelt questions. Let me explain: the convention made national headlines by overwhelmingly passing the "Truth and Unity Amendment" with a 75% majority. This new constitutional amendment aims to tighten existing restrictions by explicitly barring cooperating churches from affirming, appointing, or endorsing women to serve in the office or function of a pastor, elder, or overseer—specifically including preaching to the assembled congregation. While the measure must pass a second consecutive vote next year to become permanent, it has already reignited a heavy, painful debate across our communities about who gets to hold the net and who is permitted to cast it. Christianity Today Article.

As I watched my husband walk ahead of us, I was reminded that the harvest is plentiful, the waters are vast, and the command to become fishers of men was never meant to sideline willing hands.

Please receive this not as a critique, but as a candid reflection on an issue of profound importance. This is a sincere expression of deep personal conviction and concern that carries significant weight for me. 

I grieve for the young girls and women sitting in church congregations today who are feeling the first stirrings of a divine call to preach the Gospel—a holy, reverent fear of a weight that feels far bigger than themselves. I grieve because we live in a world where so many people do not know Jesus. The harvest is incredibly plentiful, yet the laborers are few. How can we afford to discount half of the population—women with a genuine, divine calling on their lives—when the need for the message of Christ is so urgent?

My perspective does not come from abstract theory, but from my own lived experience. While I am honored to serve as one of your pastors today, my journey to the pulpit followed a non-traditional path. 

My call to ministry came later in life. At the time, I was a stay-at-home mom, entirely poured into homeschooling our four children in a small town in central Pennsylvania. My days were filled with math lessons, laundry, dinner prep, and the beautiful, chaotic rhythm of raising a family. I didn't seek out pastoral ministry, and I certainly didn't expect a career change.

However, God's plans were different. Everything changed while I was out of town attending a weekend women’s retreat. During a morning run, I stopped to pray at our retreat center's outdoor chapel, where a bench overlooked a pond. As the first light of dawn hit the pond's still waters, I experienced a life-altering encounter with the Holy Spirit. His presence became undeniable. 

In that sacred, quiet moment, I felt a profound connection to my late grandfather, a retired Ordained Elder in the United Methodist Church who had gone on to glory the year prior. I experienced a clear, unmistakable spiritual passing of the baton. Mirroring the biblical narrative, it was as though he approached me just as Elijah first did to Elisha, placing a prophetic cloak upon my shoulders.^[1] Like Elisha at the Jordan River, picking up his mentor’s fallen mantle to step into a new life,^[2] I was left holding a calling I did not yet fully understand. God was prompting me to receive that mantle and step forward into pastoral ministry. Though the Holy Spirit had been preparing me for years through subtle, mysterious nudging, that morning God blessed me with the clarity I had been praying for.

Naturally, I wrestled with doubts and profound reservations. I asked the questions so many women face: Why me? Why now? Why would God call me, of all people? As a wife, a mother of four, and a homeschooling parent, my immediate reaction was practical—surely my life was already too full for such a calling.

But God was ever persistent. He didn't answer my doubts with arguments; He answered them with a gentle, continuous nudge. He began to order my steps in the most beautiful way, intentionally placing strong Christian men and women in my life to affirm the call, challenge me, and urge me toward radical obedience.

Foremost among these encouragers is my husband, who has been my steadfast partner and intercessor from the very beginning, walking beside me with unwavering faith. This ministry has also been a shared journey for our four children. They have walked with me through every chapter—navigating both seasons of celebration and seasons of challenge—offering unconditional grace, profound resilience and constant encouragement at every turn. 

Alongside my family, I have been deeply blessed by my male colleagues—both past and present. They have been monumental and instrumental encouragers in my life. These brothers in Christ have willingly stood in the gap, using their own voices to advocate for women in ministry and defend our God-given, Holy Spirit-ordered call to ministry. Their partnership has been a tangible reminder that when God calls a worker into His harvest, the body of Christ is meant to stand together.

Over the years, I have navigated the distinct obstacles that come with being a woman in pastoral ministry. I have experienced moments of isolation, faced misunderstandings, and met doors that seemed firmly shut, constantly navigating the limitations of an invisible glass ceiling. But those obstacles and that glass ceiling cannot erase the morning at that outdoor chapel, nor can they diminish the weight of the mantle passed down to me. With each passing year, my confidence in the Holy Spirit only grows deeper. I have a fierce, quiet certainty that the One who authored my calling is fully capable of shattering any ceiling and sustaining me through it all.

To the girls and women sitting in sanctuaries and chapels today, whether you are beginning to sense a faint nudge from the Holy Spirit or walking through a season of heavy testing: press on. Stand firm in the unique call God has placed on your life. Do not let institutional boundaries, invisible ceilings, or the doubts of others quiet the voice of the Creator inside you.

The institutional church will always grapple with its rules, its titles, and its boundaries. I respect the desire for clarity and consistency, even when that clarity creates lines that exclude. But as I look out at a world aching for hope, my prayer is that we would stop looking at gender and start looking at the harvest.

Ultimately, our highest allegiance belongs to the King of Kings. Men and women alike, I say to you, if God has placed a calling on your life, your primary responsibility is to be completely and radically obedient to Him, remembering the conviction of Acts 5:29 that "we must obey God rather than human beings." When the Holy Spirit prompts your heart, step out in faith, knowing that He qualifies those He calls. I declare it to be true! 

If I could make one plea to the global church, it would be this: look intentionally for the women in your midst who carry these divine embers. Stand with them, encourage them, and champion their voices at every turn. In doing so, we follow a rich scriptural precedent. We align with God’s design when He appointed Deborah as a prophet and judge to lead Israel,^[3] when Jesus commissioned Mary Magdalene as the very first proclaimer of the resurrection,^[4] and when Priscilla co-pastored house churches and shepherded early Christian leaders.^[5] We mirror the apostle Paul, who explicitly commended Phoebe, a deacon of the church, instructing the believers to "receive her in the Lord in a way worthy of his people and give her any help she may need from you".^[6] Let us build a church where we eagerly hold open the doors that God has unlocked. When God calls a woman to preach, her greatest act of worship is simply to obey, and our greatest honor as the body of Christ is to stand beside her. 

I am profoundly grateful to our church family for standing with me as your pastor. In a world where doors are often closed to women in ministry, you did not just open yours—you stand beside me, champion my calling, and allow us to grow together. Serving you is an honor, and your steadfast support means more to me than words can express. 

Let us continue to fan into flame the gifts of God within us, unleashing the raw power of the Holy Spirit to boldly advance His Kingdom. 

Soli Deo Gloria (Glory to God alone),
Pastor Jen

I don’t wait well. I quickly found myself growing impatient – fidgeting, glancing at my watch, sighing heavily, wondering, “Why do they even make appointments when they can’t seem to keep them?” I also starting to feel sorry for myself, like – “Maybe they have forgotten me?” 

Well, my name was eventually called, and I was led down the hallway to the examination room, also known as ‘the second waiting room,’ where, you guessed it, I waited some more! (Of course, by the time they took my vitals, my blood pressure was high, and my heart rate was out of control!)

We don’t wait well, do we? We’re in a hurry. And spiritually, it can be challenging because God is not in a hurry. And if we’re honest, sometimes He seems awfully slow to act and respond. 

Maybe you find yourself in a season of waiting, desperately and endlessly praying, crying out to God for something to happen – for healing, for a job, for direction and a path forward, for restoration of a relationship, for God to make good on a promise. Only to be met by silence.

If that’s where you are, you need to know that you’re in good company. The lives of many of the most significant men and women in Scripture are defined by seasons of waiting.

I have been re-reading the story of Abraham over the past few weeks. You may remember that, in Genesis 12, God called Abraham to leave his own country and go to a new land where God would make Abraham’s offspring into a great nation. The problem was that he and his wife, Sarah, had no children, and they were old and past child-bearing age. It seemed impossible!  

Did you know that, by the time God finally made good on His promise – with the birth of Isaac in Genesis 21 – 25 years had passed?! 25 years for God’s promise to be fulfilled!

Why such a long time? Doubtless, there are multiple reasons why God’s perfect timing was 25 years later, but one of those surely involved what God was doing IN Abraham and Sarah while they waited. God was at work, drawing them to Himself, refining their hearts, re-molding their desires, growing their trust and shaping them into people who would be ready to step into this great calling when the time came.   

God was also at work in the hearts and lives of the people and nations and leaders surrounding Abraham – preparing the land in a way only God can.

Of course, Abraham and Sarah could see none of this in the seeming silence of Yahweh. But God had not forgotten them.

He has not forgotten you, either. You can know that, in the silence and in the waiting, God is drawing you to Himself. He’s working in you to re-shape your heart and desires, to grow your trust in Him. He’s also at work in others and in circumstances, preparing the way.

Because even in God’s waiting room, He has not forgotten you. He sees you, He loves you, and His timing is perfect.

God is willing to do whatever it takes to bring about change. 

Apart from that disconcerting realization, there’s something in the story of Joseph that is incredibly wonderful to me. Could it be an entirely dysfunctional family, whose dissolution and reunion are put on display for all the world to see? Maybe it’s a character arc similar to Gladiator, where an individual goes from being sold into slavery to ruling a nation. Or possibly it’s a nation like Egypt, who doesn’t even know their need for a savior until God provides one. 

In the midst of all these more enjoyable aspects, what struck me was the extent to which God will allow His people to suffer. He gives Joseph dreams – knowing that this young man was in no way ready to humbly consider their meaning. He allows Joseph’s brothers to sell him into slavery – knowing that he’ll be taken down to Egypt. He arranges Potipher’s purchase – knowing full well the consequences of Potipher’s wife’s accusations. There’s the baker. The cupbearer. More dreams and interpretations. 

With each turn you think it’s going to get better, but it doesn’t… If anything, it seems to get worse… Then, after a long time, Joseph stands before Pharaoh. More years pass and he stands before his brothers entirely unrecognizable. We end up seeing (of course) how awesome God is and the wonderful things He does for all of Egypt and all of Joseph’s family. 

Yet, when I attempt to put myself in Joseph’s shoes, the whole thing is hard to read. Unlike me, God was there, with Joseph through it all – and I must assume the whole thing was hard for Him to watch. But He was more than willing to allow or orchestrate (or some combination of the two, depending on how you view it) all of these very difficult things to happen. 

That’s what makes me the most uncomfortable about this story. That God wants good things for us is not in question. How He brings those things about inside a fallen world is a different matter altogether. I’m trying to think of an individual that God relates with in Scripture who doesn’t encounter a large amount of suffering. 

Though some waiver, some fail, and others rise to the occasion – a majority of characters who populate the Bible appear to expect the varied difficulties they encounter. For a moment, one might think that to avoid God is to avoid suffering. But common sense and experience will quickly tell you that is not the case. Life, for all people, is unfortunately filled with suffering. We act surprised when it comes, but we shouldn’t be. In light of sin and death, trouble is sadly the new norm – as Jesus so kindly reminds us. 

What should surprise me is what God can do inside of such darkness. After all, Joseph the dreamer is entirely different from the Joseph we meet at the end of the story. Feeding a nation during a famine is one thing. Changing a man from the inside out is a miracle of an entirely different order.

I distinctly remember a season of my life that was characterized by anger. Another by frustration. Most recently, a series of years marked by worry. In each, God met me. He convicted me through different circumstances and relationships and went to work changing me. I still get angry, frustrated, and struggle with worry here and there – but those things no longer “own” me. They are no longer a part of who I am as they once were.  

I might not like going through challenges and tough times but I sure do like being changed! Are you in the middle of a trial? Facing some difficulty that seems to never end? I wonder what God might be up to. Don’t forget that what we see Him do with Joseph is no different than what we see Him do with David, or Esther, or Peter, or Paul – He is really good at this! That means you can take a deep breath knowing you’re in good hands. And, just maybe, you can start getting excited about what surprise He has in store for you. 

Well, I’m happy to report that the people of Star City were some of the nicest, kindest, grace-filled people anyone could ever meet. I think they took it on as a challenge to “educate” the city boy, and I can tell you that when I left in 2004, I had done all the things on that list!

One of the things about small churches is that they love a good potluck. I personally have always been a little hesitant about them for a number of reasons. Number one, I tend to be a little picky, and it’s clear that all eyes are on the preacher at a church potluck to see if he took any of the food they brought. Number two, I’ve had food poisoning once in my life, and I know I never want that again, so all the “should-be-served-cold” food that has been sitting out for hours waiting on church to finish so we can eat just doesn’t have a lot of appeal to me. Number three, I’ve been to enough church members’ homes where the cats rule the house and climb up on the kitchen table to be suspect of anyone’s homemade item. Number four, Jello should never be mixed with anything – not fruit, not vegetables, not nuts, nothing. I like my Jello plain and out of a cup, just as nature intended.

So, the monthly potluck in Star City was always an adventure. However, one thing that sticks in my memory was the amazing floral arrangements on the tables. Early on in my ministry there I asked Ms. Betty and Ms. Virginia, the two ladies who got stuff done around there, where they got such beautiful flowers. Betty’s reply? “Oh those? Those are just ditch flowers.” She looked at me like I should have known that; I had never even heard of the term! Apparently “ditch flowers” are just that; flowers that grow in the ditches. These are not weeds like dandelions in your yard; these are beautiful flowers like orange daylilies, blueflag irises, or Queen Anne’s Lace (yes, I had to Google that). Who knew such beauty could come from the ditch?

The extraordinary found in the ordinary. Beauty found in the unexpected. No one plants them, no one fertilizes them, and most people drive by them without giving them a second glance. Yet there they are, beautiful gifts from God in the most unlikely place. This is what God does, He makes beauty out of ashes (Is. 61:3) and brings hope to the wilderness (Is. 35:1). Ditch flowers are a powerful reminder that God is at work in the most unlikely of places and in the most unlikely of people, and His grace meets us in life’s ditches. In our seasons of difficulty and uncertainty, God can take that soil and grow something beautiful. So, if that’s where you find yourself right now, the next time you see a ditch flower remember that no place is too barren, no life is too broken, no circumstance too hopeless for His grace to bring about His beauty in you!

I know I have experienced times in my life when I felt something was not right, and even though I couldn’t put my finger on it, I certainly felt the weight of it. But as I walked along with the Lord, His Holy Spirit, the Helper, helped me. He began to give me eyes to see that I needed to receive God’s forgiveness, and I also needed to forgive myself. As the Helper brought this to light, I began to consistently pray about it, asking God to search my heart for any thoughts or ways that I needed to repent of and to give me the humility to receive forgiveness. I have a bent towards wanting to earn my own way and desiring to never fall short of any expectations and get mad at myself when I do.  Learning to pray, “Help me, Lord, to receive your forgiveness and help me to forgive myself,” has been essential in my journey.   It was life-changing when I realized “who am I to hold unforgiveness against someone who Jesus has forgiven.”  And that someone was me!  When I realized this in my heart – not just in my head – that we are all broken and will all make mistakes and need forgiveness, and this means I will need to not only ask for forgiveness but to forgive myself. I discovered how powerful and life-changing it was to say out loud, “I am forgiven,” “I receive forgiveness,” or have a brother or sister-in-Christ pray for me and hear them say, “Christ has forgiven you.” 

And when doing so, it remains essential that we do not stay focused on what we have done after we repent; instead, we set our minds to look upward to Jesus and open our hearts to receive His forgiveness. As Corrie Ten Boon beautifully states, “When we confess our sins, God casts them into the ocean, gone forever.  And then even though I cannot find a Scripture for it, I believe God places a sign out there that says: No Fishing Allowed.” While it can be tempting to wallow in the guilt, shame, and condemnation- believe me, I know- but wallowing turns us inward to ourselves, but repentance turns us upward to our Savior, where we can then receive the very thing we need most- forgiveness.  Remember, as believers, we are both sinners and saints, so we need to continually allow the Holy Spirit, the Helper, to reveal sin. He is faithful and will lead us in the particular type of repentance and forgiveness we need. There may be times in the journey when we easily recognize the areas, and there may be occasions where we need to spend time with the Lord and allow His Spirit to reveal to us any way that needs to be realigned, so that we may receive forgiveness, extend it to ourselves, and encounter His joy more fully.  

I have learned over the years that the Holy Spirit will not reveal anything that He cannot forgive, heal, renew, and transform. So, we may have confidence in the Helper and His faithfulness. Receiving forgiveness has been one of the most wonderful things to draw me closer to the Lord. And in doing so, I feel I have gained a greater awareness of the presence of God and a growing understanding of what is in my own heart, and asking the Lord to make it more like His.

Fresh out of seminary, it is easy to assume that a pastor holds all the answers. However, the reality of ministry quickly corrects that assumption. Take me for example: I once left the congregation standing indefinitely after the opening hymns and watched as a sea of patient faces stared back at me, waiting for the simple words, “You may be seated.” I stumbled through liturgical transitions and forgot to call for the offering a time or two. And yet, instead of frustration or judgment, I was met with gentle smiles, quiet reminders from the front pew, and warm hugs after the postludes.

Longstown UM Church, located in York, PA, modeled the ultimate definition of grace. They taught me that pastoring is not about performing a flawless Sunday script. It is about building a relationship rooted in mutual love and patience. In my weakness, that precious little country church chose to embody Ephesians 4:2, Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Their grace became the classroom where I learned how to care for God's people.

As we remember the outpouring of the Holy Spirit this coming Pentecost Sunday, I am reminded that those early years of my beautifully messy process of pastoral leadership development mirror the very first days of the early church. During Pentecost, the Holy Spirit did not descend upon seasoned, perfect religious professionals. The Spirit fell upon a group of frightened disciples who were still hiding in locked rooms and wrestling with doubt.

Pentecost reminds us that God does not call the equipped; He equips the called. The same Spirit that gave those early, imperfect disciples the words to speak in ancient Jerusalem is the very same Spirit that sustained me when I forgot the order of worship and misplaced my sermon notes. The congregation lived out Pentecost by allowing the Holy Spirit to work through my obvious human limitations.

Jesus left us with the Great Commission: to go out and make disciples of all nations. However, we often forget that the disciples had to learn how to disciple others through trial, error, and immense grace.

The first congregation I served understood that empowering a new pastor is an active fulfillment of the Great Commission. By mentoring me, protecting my joy, and laughing with me through my liturgical hiccups, they were actively investing in the wider Kingdom. They didn't just receive ministry; they ministered to the minister. I wouldn’t be who I am today without their investment and affirmation of my call to ministry.

To every believer who has ever patiently endured a rookie pastor’s growing pains, thank you. Your grace creates the safe space required for spiritual gifts to mature. Because a small flock chose to invest in me and be gentle with my mistakes, I learned that authentic pastoral leadership is not found in a title or a flawless service order. It is found in a heart, broken open by the grace of God, reflected through the eyes of a loving congregation.

To those of you reading this today—my current church family—I want to say a profound thank you. The same grace, patience, and love that carried me through my first pastoral appointment many years ago is the very lifeblood I feel within Christ Church every single week. Thank you for pardoning my imperfections when I still stumble over words or logistics. Thank you for encouraging our vision as we seek to live out the Great Commission together. You are truly a living testimony of Pentecost!

You are not just a congregation I serve; you are the people who continue to teach me how to be a better pastor every day. It remains my greatest joy and privilege to shepherd alongside you.

 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. — Acts 1:8

With deep gratitude and Pentecost joy,
Pastor Jen

What do you think of this poem by Christina Rossetti? How did it make you feel? What do you think it means? Did you rush or skim it? 

Be honest, did you read it? 

If you’re like 88% of Americans, you would have skipped over the poem. Forgive me for expecting the worst, but according to a survey done in 2017 by the National Endowment of the Arts, only 12% of adults read poetry that year.  It’s likely that you read a few poems during English in middle school, but since then, poetry is far from your daily life. Today, however, we’re going to learn a lot from poetry. 

Most people consider poetry to be a dying art, as it has been largely replaced by the novel. One can only guess at the many reasons it has fallen out of its literary limelight. Maybe, people find it elitist or boring, overemotional or pointless (why won’t poems just say what they mean?). And while I agree that some poetry may tend these ways, like any literature, there is a splendor of poetry out there for everyone, especially the Christian. 

In fact, poetry fills the Bible. The first pages of our Bible read like poetry. It fills books like Job, Proverbs, and more. Paul recites poetry while preaching and writing his letters. The Psalms are a collection of prayers and songs in the form of Hebrew verse. Through poetry, there is worship, prophecy, and story. God, it turns out, loves poetry. 

Not only does He delight in telling us beautiful, merciful, and true things, but He delights in telling them beautifully. Like a bridegroom to his bride, the church, He speaks to us sweet lyrics (Psalm 45).  It is exciting to think of the ways God has formed and used language, which can awaken our hearts to Him. And, let me tell you, poetry is one of my favorite ways! Rhythm and rhyme, alliteration, allegory, and analogy fall together to tell a truth in a way that is pleasing to the ear and striking to the heart of believers. How wonderful is our God! 

In this blog, I intend to show you more about poetry. Maybe, you’ll even be inspired to read some. But I hope more than anything, this is an encouraging reminder to be still and think deeply on God’s Voice through Scripture. You might never read poetry again after today. But, poetry is going to remind us of two important aspects of a deep devotional life in Christ. First, poetry makes us slow down and dwell on things. Second, poetry lifts up profound truth for us to personally interact with. 

Slow Down and Dwell: The goal of most poetry, like devotional poetry, is to extend our attention span and get us to focus on the things that matter most. The problem is that we live in a culture where our minds are continually filled with quick flashes of random entertainment and media.  The average screen time for an American is close to seven hours a day.  I think God has a good place for entertainment. I mean, I love a TV show to unwind or a movie to see with friends. But we must be careful with our attention. What we choose to set our minds on drastically impacts our feelings, behavior, and heart posture (see Matthew 6:22 and Philippians 4:8).  

When we’re sad or lonely, anxious or bored, many of us choose to be distracted by fast-paced, mindless media. And while we feel some partial relief from the distractions, the cause of our internal issues is left unattended. Conversely, instead of pointing our minds to reading, prayer, and conversation with God, we often look to the idol of media to find rest and guidance. And, it is insufficient. It causes us to be restless, selfish, and misguided. 

In this world of constant distraction and rush and stress, we need to set our minds more on what the Lord has for us.  Only there will we find the truth and peace our minds need. Colossians 3, verses 2-3 says, “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” This means we must have times in our week to contemplate spiritual realities and stories in Scripture, rest in the eternal truth of God’s Love and Faithfulness, wrestle with convictions, and express our joys and sorrows to the Lord. 

Poetry, like many forms of art and devotion, reminds us to slow down and attend to these essentials. Devotional reading like poetry requires us to block out distractions and focus on what matters most. Devotional reading teaches us to replace our quick-paced diet of entertainment for a slow, intentional, and abundant meal on God’s Word. Psalm 119, the longest poem in the Bible, says, “I have stored up your Word in my heart that I might not sin against you…I meditate on it all the day.”  Poetry takes the slow attentiveness we all need when taking in God’s Word. Reading the Word, like a poem, means you must continuously explore the language and imagery used. 

Look at the poem printed at the beginning. “The violets whisper…” If you take your time and look closely, this very poem tells us to be careful with our attention, or we will not “hear” the flowers. This means we can fail to notice that, all around us, creation is crying out messages of Scripture. This poem is a reference to Jesus’ sermon in Mattew 6, where He talks about the dangers of worry. He tells us to trust God and seek first the Kingdom. The poem here by Rossetti is encouraging us to look to at what we so often miss. She points us to nature’s analogies to see God’s many messages that He will more carefully provide for His children, as He does so even for the flowers.  

God’s story is infinitely more fascinating and fulfilling than the little distractions on our screens. When we slow down and dwell on God, He will personally show us about Himself; about His wisdom and love. But we must set our eyes upward, as Colossians says. We can do this in prayer and study and conversation with others. To help, try reading this poem if you’re anxious or bored. Suddenly, when you could be staring at media or entertaining an anxious thought, the Spirit is revealing the many ways God has provided for you and others around you. While your co-workers may not even notice it, you are in worship. While your head is still pointed downward with eyes at the words, your heart is in the heavens. Because, your mind is set on heavenly things. 

The Word of God speaks into our souls in a way other voices cannot. Scripture gives us a rest and strength nothing else could, because it is the loving, powerful voice of God. In Deuteronomy 32, the Israelites are ending their time in the wilderness. Moses looks over all the people to raise his prophetic voice once more. And, out of his lips comes a poem over 60 lines long (just a little longer than an Instagram reel). After recapping God’s commandments, faithfulness, covenant promises, and reciting his song, Moses says to His people, “Take to heart all the words by which I am warning you today…For it is no empty word for you, but your very life.” May we all slow down and dwell on the Gospel. It is our very power to new life. 

Profound Truth for Us to Personally Behold: When a poem comes up, we might say, “just tell it to us straight.” Sometimes, this means we just want the info in order to move on, like it’s some sort of quick data to download. We process it like a computer processing data. We don’t interact with it. But, just as poetry calls for us to slow down and dwell, it also calls for us to personally respond to the words. “Our response to a poem involves whatever our own lives have brought to it- the memories, associations, questions, experiences, loves, desires, hopes, and worries we hold,” says Van Engen. “There is far more to a poem than a response, but never less.” For instance, if there is a poem about being a kid again, with no cares in the world, we should bring our own peaceful childhood experiences to it, and that will help the poem come to life for us. Take the poem at the beginning: are there ways you tend to worry and lose faith that God will care for you? We personally interact with the truth of the poem, and there, we experience it. 

Now, this doesn’t mean that we have to make up some meaning for our own interpretation. We can certainly go out of bounds and take a meaning that the author didn’t intend. Likewise, with the Word of God, we don’t invent the meaning or truth according to our own desires or thoughts. Context and history matter when reading Scripture, and this takes study. But even though we might not be the original recipients or main character of the Word, it is for us. And, that means we are called to respond personally. 

I fear that many of us read our Bibles like data processors. Sometimes, I find myself reading it like a kid cramming for a 10^th grade history final. I skim and look for main points and think, “Okay, got it: Abraham didn’t kill Issaac. Whew! Check, I read my Bible for the day.” We read and know the words, but before they ever get home to our hearts, we let them stay in our overcrowded brains to gather dust. 

In a poem, you respond to the ideas of the author, as you’re invited to bring your experiences. With the Word of God, you respond to the Author, as you’re called to lay down your heart. The truth in the Bible is a person: Jesus! This writing is our guide to relationship with the Savior. It alone is the authority for our lives, and therefore, we are called to personally respond to Him through His Word. We need to be reminded that it is more than a poem or a history book to study. It is more than a common language among like-minded religious folk. It is His Voice, and Jesus says we should be careful how we hear it (Luke 8:18). That means that, today, we should not harden our hearts to it (Hebrews 3:15) but submit to Him and His Perfect Will.  

As the Psalmist gives his sorrows to the Lord, we are called to give our own sorrows as well. As the rich young ruler in Matthew is called to give up his idols to follow the Lord, so are we. As the disciples interact with the teachings of the Lord, asking questions and responding to Christ’s request for commitment, we are called to respond likewise. As John the Baptist urges the Israelites to repent of sin and believe, the Spirit calls in our heart to repent and believe also.  As the poor and lame cry out to Jesus for help in Luke, we are called to cry out for Him in our own areas of life where we are helpless. And, just as Jesus transformed all those who responded to His Voice in faith then, He does so now. No wonder the book of Hebrews calls the Word “living and active and discerning of the thoughts and intentions of the heart!” 

Other people say “tell it to me straight,” because they want things to be direct and clear. This is good. They don’t want the fluff of a poem. And, I get that. This is what the disciples ask Jesus to do when they don’t understand His parables. But many deep spiritual realities need creativity to help us grasp the ungraspable. “Reality exceeds description, yet language can illuminate experience,” says Abram Van Engen. “Poets often use words to take us to the very edge of words and show us what lies beyond…where the Creator manifests a world magnificent, multifarious, mysterious, and always more than we thought we knew. [Devotional] poetry touches the truth again and again. It explores the heights and the depths of the riches of God and the world God has given us to love.” 

God created language, and He often uses it beautifully, because beauty attracts us to know more. While there is no substitute for the Spirit, God often uses words and stories, parables and poems to awaken our hearts to His. A devotional life in Christ means that we should daily delight in the beauty of God’s Word and story.

Catholic poet Dana Gioia writes, “When Jesus preached truth, he told stories, spoke poems, and offered proverbs.” We may not literally be branches, but Jesus says we are dependent on Him like branches to a vine. And, like the stories of Jesus, one point of poetry is to not tell it to us straight but to tell it to us slant. Meaning, it is a careful, personal, and creative way to communicate profound truth. The Psalmist in 91 could have said, “God takes care of us.” But, to capture our hearts in God’s character, he uses imagery: “Under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.” The famous hymnist and poet Charles Wesley could have said, “I have burdens.” But that doesn’t capture the weight. He tells it slant. Instead, he says, “Of prayers, and hopes, complaints, and groans, my fainting soul in silence owns. I can hold out no more.”

Here, poetry reminds us of the power of words. We all know the moments when words seemed to strike the very core of our souls. Perhaps, it was something as classic as once upon a time, when you first found the calming power of story in your mother’s goodnight voice. Perhaps, it was the first time your husband or wife told you they love you. In those moments, language meant you were valued and cherished in a way you didn’t know before. Perhaps, it was something as harsh as ashamed or hate. Now, language is your very despair. Perhaps, it was something as catastrophic as cancer: the worst word in the English language. 

Perhaps, it was the very words of our Savior: “Come to me all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart,” Now, the language of our Savior’s Voice, fueled by the very power of the Holy Spirit, awakens in you a sense of other-worldly peace that no other word could. 

God could have made us all data processors: robots using language to get things done. We could have been His little encoders, inputters, and analyzers. Where is the relationship in that? God is far too wonderful and far too loving for that. He designed language to help us know Him personally and respond. He uses stories and parables and poems to attract and awaken us to His Heart. He calls his followers friends, students, and royal priests, because He gave us personal minds and hearts. And these personal minds and hearts are made to be indwelt by the Spirit of His Eternal Word, Jesus, and the shine of His Character. May we all have the courage to slow down, dwell on, and personally respond to His Voice. And, in turn, may we be daily struck to the core of our souls by the Word of God.

*This piece was inspired from Abram Van Engen’s Book Word Made Fresh: An Invitation to Poetry for the Church. 

The Bible addresses this same balancing act of life over and over again. If there’s one overarching theme in God’s Word about the places we’ll go, it’s this: God goes with us. As we travel through life, walking through open doors or discovering locked ones, making decisions about whether to turn left or turn right, climbing steep mountains or coasting down hills, wandering through unknown territory or comfortably strolling through familiar ground, we are assured that we are not alone. God told Moses, “I will be with you” (Ex. 3:12); he told Joshua, “Be strong and courageous, do not be afraid, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” (Josh. 1:9); he told David, “I have been with you wherever you have gone” (2 Sam. 7:9); he told Israel, “Fear not, for I am with you” (Is. 41:10); he told the disciples, “And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Matt. 28:20); and he told the Christians in Jerusalem, “I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Heb. 13:5). Time and time again we are reminded of God’s presence with us every step of the way.

And so, as you send your graduate into all the places he or she will go, into the balancing act that is our world, don’t ever forget that God is with them and they (and you) are never alone!