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!

 I have a big problem of focusing on what God isn’t doing in my life, rather than what He has done, what He is doing, and what He will do. I lack contentment. Recently pastor Jen gave me some verses to reflect on, and this one from Habakkuk hit me hard. Habakkuk is praying in response to God’s answer to his initial frustrations. Habakkuk approached God with frustration and concern- concern that evil was running unchecked, and God was not appropriately moving.   

God’s response to Habakkuk’s concern is that though the sinfulness of the world feels like it is conquering the righteous, there will be a day of reckoning. He also warns that it may feel like it is taking too long but reminds Habakkuk that His promises are always on time. God tells Habakkuk that the righteous will live by their faith placed in this promise. My bible commentary shows a timeline explaining that the Babylonians (or some texts say Chaldeans) attacked Judah and in that same year Habakkuk wrote this book. It also shows that about 20 years later, the Babylonians conquered Judah.   

So why does Habakkuk praise the Lord in a dry and barren land if Judah was still going to be conquered? Did he place his hope in a God who forgot his people? No. Because God is faithful to fulfill every promise He makes to His people. God in His might will conquer this evil and darkness and deliver His people one day, just as He promised. Habakkuk does not get to see this prophecy fulfilled earthside. Instead, he gets to see it fulfilled in God’s timing- eternal timing.   

While my home is not physically under siege or at risk of being taken by enemies, there is a spiritual battle occurring in each of our lives. My spiritual battle, as I am confident yours has been at some point, is the enemy stealing my joy in the dry and barren land. In my personal battle, recently, it feels like darkness is winning. It seems as though God has forgotten me and, in my selfishness, I have forgotten His historic goodness in my life. What if I brought my frustrations to Him, like Habakkuk does, and was quiet enough to hear His response? I am confident that while His response or timing may not be exactly what I want, it will be exactly what I need. What if, once I hear that still small voice, I allow it to comfort me, and I praise Him in a dry and barren land, just like Habakkuk?   

That praise steals the power from darkness over my life and gives it right back to God. A response like that makes Satan angry. A response like that shows crazy faith that doesn’t make sense in the eyes of the world. In the book of Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego show this kind of crazy faith. They claim that God can deliver them if they are thrown into the furnace but show bold faith claiming that if God does not deliver them, they will still not bow down to any idol. What if we fought our spiritual battles from a place of confidence like that? “I know God can give me what I want to get through this season, but even if He does not, I will never bow to darkness.” While that is a scary prayer to pray, I believe there is no better way to approach our spiritual battles. I am comforted knowing that the God we serve is all-powerful and can do mighty things. I am even more comforted knowing that He is all-knowing, knowing exactly what we need, exactly when we need it. This may not be the answer you wanted to hear regarding your spiritual battle but I do hope it gives you fuel to become content in God’s goodness and power. I want to end with a word from the Psalms that has been providing me with peace during this season.   

“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all they days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”   Psalm 23  

While all of this is surely true, it can still be difficult for us to hear God’s voice, especially when we’re living in Crazytown. You know the place. Crazytown is where the laundry is still piled up from two days ago, waiting to be folded. Crazytown is full of diapers and wipes and toys all over the floor. It’s also full of 50-hour work weeks and 18-hour credit semesters. Crazytown often has a lawn that needs mowing, a broken toilet, a dog that needs walking and multiple plates spinning at once. 

Crazytown can be a lot of fun, but sometimes it’s stressful and it’s always distracting. Maybe you’ve found yourself visiting Crazytown from time to time – or maybe you’ve taken up permanent residence there. Either way, it can be hard to hear God’s voice, especially His gentle whisper, when you’re hurrying just to get to the next thing on time... (of course, if you ARE in Crazytown right now, you’re probably not reading this blog post or you’re just skimming it, so I’ll be brief). 

Adam Weber wrote a great little book called, “Talking to God.” He says, “It’s crazy. We tend to separate prayer from the place where we need it the most – in the midst of Crazytown.” What if, instead of thinking of prayer as something separate from the rest of life, one more thing to cram into our day or week, we practiced talking to God in the midst of it – right there in Downtown Crazytown – all the time?  

Weber says, “Talk with God in the midst of it all.” Paul called it “praying without ceasing.” Brother Lawrance, in the 1600’s, called it “practicing the presence of God.” Whatever you are doing, vacuuming the floor, talking to a friend, driving to a baseball game – practice talking to God in it all. And once you get in the habit, you might be surprised at how much clearer His voice becomes.  

One last quote from Adam Weber – “Regardless of what a day holds, we can come to know and understand the heart of God on levels we’ve never known before, in the midst of the craziest of days, we can fall more in love with him. Simply by talking to him.” 

May it be so – wherever you live. 

While I love the good news that Mary and the disciples were given, I was also left wondering, well, that’s great, but how am I supposed to approach future difficulties and pains? (I’m still on my C.S. Lewis kick so, I’m going to let him speak into this question for a minute). 

When I think about whatever my problems or troubles are, my attention naturally goes to the things causing me fear, worry, and anxiety. My focus is on how a particular situation might go, or not go, how to address that issue or situation, or better yet, make it go away!  

When facing difficulty, Lewis challenges us to shift our focus from the source of the difficulty to God Himself. In The Four Loves, he says, “We shall draw near to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armor. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it” (p. 156). 

When I’m worried or afraid, I’ll admit that most of my prayers sound like “Jesus, give me better armor!” or "Get rid of this issue!” I don’t feel safe, which is precisely why I’m asking God to step in. Yet, Lewis challenges us to place ourselves in an even more precarious situation by looking to God and accepting whatever He might do or allow to happen.  

For Lewis, it’s as if following Him naturally includes a degree of unknown, danger, risk, questioning, etc. But for me, I’m rather convinced (incorrectly and un-biblically) that following Jesus should mean fewer unknowns, more comfort, and only sunny days from here on out. Then, when difficulties arise, I’m offended and I think about how God has failed me or I focus on the source of my pain.  

In Chapter 6 of The Screwtape Letters, Lewis states that our reluctance to accept difficulties as we take up our cross and follow Jesus works against us. He advises a Christian to consider that experiencing fear, loss, or difficulty is a part of carrying their cross. Certainly, God doesn’t want us weighed down with those things - but part of following Him means that we will experience them.  

As I’ve faced unknowns and challenges in the last few weeks, my discomfort has led me to say to Jesus, “I don’t like this, but I accept that following You means things will be difficult sometimes.” So simple, and also a little odd, but voicing that surrender helps. I’m acknowledging how I really feel (miserable) and saying to Him - "I’m still here, I’m not going anywhere.”  

That feels surprisingly good. Of course, I want Him to step in and fix my situation.  He knows that. What both He and I need to hear is me saying, “but even if You don’t, I’m going to love You no matter what” (kind of reminds me of Daniel’s friends before the fiery furnace). In doing that, curiously, I’ve found a sense of hope. Maybe whatever this is won’t work out. But that doesn’t change God. Nor does it need to change my posture toward Him.  

Who knows what’s going to happen with the troubling stuff? I don’t, and ultimately it doesn’t matter because the things that do matter (who God is and how I’m relating with Him) are set. They’re firm. Or, I guess I should say they’re firm for those fleeting moments I’m able to surrender and place my faith in Him. Oh Lord, help those moments last longer! 

Maybe this week as you face troubles, take a moment and try to throw away all your defensive armor (as Lewis encourages) and tell God you’re going to love Him no matter what. You might be surprised with a touch of hope!  

For me, I have discovered that the first step toward forgiveness begins with identifying what happened, who did it, and how I responded in my heart. A struggle that I think many of us have experienced is that we don’t want to feel the pain again, so we don’t address it. It is so much easier to just stay busy and push it aside. I have learned, though, that things don’t go away just because they are not addressed, they often fester. There are things in life that require us to slow down and address, and by naming the offense and the offender it can bring clarity and break the hold of denial and suppression. When we take the time to connect our memory of the account with the emotion we felt, that’s a good first step in the journey toward forgiveness. 

Unfortunately, at times, I have fallen into lies that have fueled my human pride. I have, unknowingly, judged the one who I really needed to forgive. Being so hurt, I lived out of painfilled emotions, confused about what forgiveness really was. I fell into believing the lie that if I forgave, it made what they did alright, and justice would not be served. Thankfully, the Holy Spirit led me forward on the path bringing clarity and He did not let me remain there.

We can also easily fall into the trap of self-righteous thinking that forgiveness should come to us from God but does not have to extend from us to others.  In truth, no one deserves forgiveness. That is what makes what Jesus did so extraordinary.  God first forgave us. It is not earned, as we read in 2 Corinthians 5:21; “For our sake He made Him to be sin who knew no sin, so that we might become the righteousness of God.”

By staying focused on Jesus and what He has done for me, only then am I able to release those who have wronged me. I have to ask myself, “What do I want to grow, bitterness or my relationship with Jesus?” If we want a deeper and closer relationship with Jesus, rather than focus on the who or what was done to us, we must set our minds on what Jesus has done for us and ask the Holy Spirit to empower us to forgive. He will not leave us or forsake us but help us in times of trial and difficulty. When I am working through forgiving someone it helps me to ask the Holy Spirit to reveal the love of Jesus in my heart, touching me deeper than the pain I have experienced. I have found, time and time again, that He is faithful and His love is stronger than the pain.  Those who have wronged us may never know the pain they have caused but our forgiveness is not based on how they act but on what Jesus has done. 

When someone hurts us deeply, it can take time and we might need to forgive them over and over again.  The gravity of the situation will often require repeated forgiveness.  As we grow to identify more with what Jesus has done for us rather than what someone has done to us, we will find ourselves being strengthened and transformed by the One who took our sin when He knew no sin.  Through forgiveness, the Holy Spirit has led me to freedom and out of bitterness, transforming my heart and giving me a fuller joy.

Seeing clearly my limited ability to love someone who had hurt me, I had to come to terms with my own brokenness. Praying for humility and the strength to enable me to bear the weight of this reality that my pride did not want to acknowledge was the first step forward.  Let me stress that If I had looked to myself for the power to love someone who had hurt me, I would not have been able to. For it is for this reason that Christ came to die for our sin and rise in victory and through Him and His victory I am able to die to sin and rise to live for Him. Admitting that I needed help to love the way Christ calls His followers to was essential so that He could empower me with His Holy Spirit to love. For the power of this love does not originate within human hearts but within Christ. For He laid down His life so we may live.  The Spirit prompted me with “Why do you call me Lord, and do not do the things I say?” I answered with “yes, Lord”. I needed to lay down my life in response to Jesus and choose the way of love. There with Him in the secret place of prayer, I would lay my wounded heart out in safety and cry out for Him to help me love as He loves. As He said for if you love those who love you what credit is that to you for sinners love those who love them… but love give and expect nothing in return. Luke 6

 I surrendered my strong will and the desire to get even, which was not easy. I prayed that Jesus would love the person who hurt me through me and that I could love them and expect nothing in return. Then, I prayed and asked for the Holy Spirit to strengthen me so that I could keep my eyes on Him and to help me identify with what He had done for me more than what they had done to me.  As I continually collaborated with Holy Spirit, overtime Jesus began to change the way I viewed the situation and the person. The Holy Spirit gave me the strength to set my will to focus on Jesus and not relish in replaying the incident. Gentle prompts to think on what Jesus had done for me were shaping my steps. His creative vision was impacting how I was seeing them and the situation. I began to see beyond the harmful actions. My heart began to soften, and I began to see who they could become in Christ. Through the power of the Holy Spirit bitterness was losing hold as compassion was coming forth. I discovered that my wounded heart was being healed by the One who was wounded for me.  As I was learning to walk with Him and live in greater trust and dependence upon Him, He was changing me. He loved them through me. I saw the importance of accepting my fragileness and not running from Him but to Him.   In turn, He was imparting a greater love for Him, others, and the one who had hurt me.

What started out as hurt from someone became an opportunity for me to grow in dependence on Jesus and develop a greater sensitivity to the Holy Spirit.  By being as honest and as vulnerable as I could be with God, my sensitive nature was being aligned correctly to be more aware of what Jesus had done for me than what they had done to me. And now joy fills the place where bitterness once resided.

Who is the Lord calling you to love? 

First, as we approach Easter, I’m thinking more about the final week of Jesus’ life. Of course, a big part of that is because it’s what we have been looking at in our Community Group Study this semester – Journey to the Cross. It’s also been our focus on Sunday mornings. It’s been powerful, to say the least.

Because we have spent so much time looking at this week in Jesus’ life, I think these events and the person of Jesus have impacted me in deeper, richer ways, perhaps, than ever before.

I confess that when I read the Gospels, I don’t spend as much time in this part of the story as I probably should. I tend to focus more on Jesus’ teachings, the miracles, conversations he had with all kinds of people, and his healing ministry. And that’s all well and good. But if I’m honest, I only really lock in on Jesus’ final days during Holy Week and Easter.

But did you know that the Gospels devote a whopping 30%-40% percent of their writings on Jesus’ final week – on his death and resurrection?

As we’ve camped out there together these past months, I have found myself noticing things I never have before as Jesus resolutely turns to the cross.

Mainly, I’ve seen what I can only call a relentlessness to God’s grace. Through every insult he received, every threat, every put-down, every taunt, every betrayal, God’s grace just keeps coming. In Jesus’ unjust trial by the religious establishment, God’s grace keeps coming. When he is betrayed by one friend, denied by another, and abandoned by them all, God’s grace keeps coming. When he’s beaten and bloody, hanging from the cross, asking the Father to “forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing,” God’s grace keeps coming. It’s relentless. Wave after wave. It doesn’t stop.

Which brings me to my second obsession these days. As I write this, I’ve got a pretty good case of ‘March Madness’, caught up in the excitement of following the Razorback Men’s Basketball team playing its way through the NCAA Tournament.

When I watch these games, I often find myself re-living the magic of winning the national championship in 1994 (I know. It’s been THAT long!). The most remarkable thing about that ‘94 team, and all of Nolan Richardson’s teams for that matter, was its aggressive, unwavering defense. It just kept coming. Never giving up. Wave after wave. Relentless.

It’s a wonderful picture of God’s grace, revealing a God who stops at nothing to reach and transform every life, every person.

In fact, when John introduces us to Jesus in his Gospel, he talks about this. He says… “For from his (Jesus’) fullness we have all received grace upon grace.” (John 1:16) I love that phrase – “grace upon grace”!

God’s grace is the Razorbacks’ defense, circa 1994. ]]> https://christnwa.church/christ-church-blog/immortality/ https://christnwa.church/christ-church-blog/immortality/ Thu, 19 Mar 2026 06:00:00 +0000 When we first moved back to the States in 2020, our family was in crisis. Many of you have heard me discuss the effect of our unexpected and abrupt departure after living overseas for so many years. It was rough on our teens, on Kayla, and on me -... Dr. Daniel Rupp When we first moved back to the States in 2020, our family was in crisis. Many of you have heard me discuss the effect of our unexpected and abrupt departure after living overseas for so many years. It was rough on our teens, on Kayla, and on me - each in different ways. 

I remember one night, walking the trash to the curb, looking up at the stars, and doubting. Doubting whether or not God saw. Whether or not He cared. And whether or not He would do anything to help. It was a low point for me, to say the least. 

Not a few times since then, I’ve looked up at the same stars and remembered that moment. Now, having worked through the doubts and having received God’s stunning faithfulness over the past 6 years, there’s a part of me that feels bad for doubting - but another part that knows God understands. That He was glad I was moving toward Him in my doubt. 

Recently, the stars have taken on a very new meaning for me. C. S. Lewis, in his sermon “The Weight of Glory,” explores the idea of immortality. He calls us to recognize that every person we see not only lives forever, but also that we will be transformed - either by Christ or by the effects of sin. Listen to how Lewis describes our potential destinies: 

“It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare.” 

Lewis reminds us - “All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.” 

Growing up, my mom taught me to appreciate the stars. She was a science teacher and constantly taught me. I learned early how to find the North Star and to identify several of the commonly known constellations. I remember the moment she told me that when you look at a star, you’re effectively looking back in time because the light takes so long to travel from way out there all the way to Earth. 

My mom is a rock-solid believer and also taught me to appreciate science. Stars and galaxies that are billions of years old. Scale that’s vast and incomprehensible. The fact that one day even our own sun will run the course of its life. All of these things captivated my young imagination. 

Lewis, too, points us to the finiteness of nature. Everything you see has an expiration date. In “The Weight of Glory”, he also says, “Nature is mortal; we shall all outlive her. When all the suns and the nebulae have passed away, each of you will still be alive.” 

God taught Abraham using the stars. In those teaching moments, he must have felt so small. I doubt Abraham could comprehend then what he may much more fully understand now - that though he couldn’t count them, he would outlive them all. 

Now, when I look up to the stars, all I can think of is how God met me in my doubts. And, how glorious it is that He made each of us to ultimately outlast and outshine them all. 

The first is an Old Testament picture of how God sees unity found in Psalm 133. Here’s the Psalm in its entirety:

“How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity! It is like precious oil poured on the head, running down on the beard, running down on Aaron’s beard, down on the collar of his robe. It is as if the dew of Hermon were falling on Mount Zion. For there the Lord bestows his blessing, even life forevermore.” (NIV)

Here David uses two images to describe unity in the Body of Christ. The first is oil – anointing oil to be exact, poured out on a person as a symbol of the Holy Spirit, God’s presence covering us. The second is water, a symbol of the cleansing power of the Holy Spirit, a refreshment of the soul, a stream that flows from a believer’s heart (as Jesus notes in John 7).

Here’s the interesting thing: We all know the saying, oil and water don’t mix. But here, these two images come together as ways the Holy Spirit brings unity to believers. The oil of the Holy Spirit and the water of the Holy Spirit bring together one beautiful picture. Unity comes from God and then flows through the community, as oil flows down Aaron’s beard and the dew flows from Hebron to Zion. David says this unity brings blessings from God as we receive it and spread it!

The second is a New Testament picture of God’s desired unity seen in the early church. In Acts 11:19-26 we read this:

“Meanwhile, the believers who had been scattered during the persecution after Stephen’s death traveled as far as Phoenicia, Cyprus, and Antioch of Syria. They preached the word of God, but only to Jews. However, some of the believers who went to Antioch from Cyprus and Cyrene began preaching to the Gentiles about the Lord Jesus. The power of the Lord was with them, and a large number of these Gentiles believed and turned to the Lord. When the church at Jerusalem heard what had happened, they sent Barnabas to Antioch. When he arrived and saw this evidence of God’s blessing, he was filled with joy, and he encouraged the believers to stay true to the Lord. Barnabas was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and strong in faith. And many people were brought to the Lord. Then Barnabas went on to Tarsus to look for Saul. When he found him, he brought him back to Antioch. Both of them stayed there with the church for a full year, teaching large crowds of people. (It was at Antioch that the believers were first called Christians.)”

After the stoning of Stephen in Acts 7, there was great persecution of the believers and they were scattered. However, Acts 8:4 tells us, “But the believers who were scattered preached the Good News about Jesus wherever they went.” And so, for example, the message of Jesus Christ is preached in Antioch to the Gentiles, and many people came to faith in Christ! A community of believers was formed, and it was so powerful that when Barnabas saw it, he couldn’t wait to share it with Saul (Paul), bringing him there to witness it for himself. The two of them stayed there in Antioch for a full year, preaching and teaching and essentially pastoring this new community of believers.

Then v. 26 gives us this really important word: “It was at Antioch that the believers were first called Christians.” Before Antioch, groups of believers would have been called saints, brothers, or followers of the Way. But here in Antioch, people started calling this Jesus-community “Christians.” Have you ever considered why that was the case? What was it about these people that led to this name? To fully answer that, we need to learn something about Antioch, and then something about the church at Antioch. In the first century, Antioch was one of three great cosmopolitan areas of the world, the other two being Rome and Alexandria. Antioch has been referred to as, “All the world in one city.” It was designed like most cities of that day: A circular wall on the outside, a marketplace in the center, with the interior of the city walled in a way that divided the many different people groups from one another…Enter Christ-followers. Enter the Gospel. The Church came to Antioch and began breaking down the dividing barriers in a way that upset the society’s existing categories. People from all parts of the city—Jews and Gentiles alike—were suddenly coming together. This group of people was redefining community in a radical and unprecedented way, so much that a new word was needed to categorize what in the world was happening.

We see clear evidence of this in Acts 13:1. Here’s what Luke tells us about the church in Antioch: “The church at Antioch included prophets and teachers: Barnabas, Simeon (nicknamed Niger), Lucius from Cyrene, Manaen (a childhood friend of Herod the ruler), and Saul.” (CEB). Why is this significant? Well, consider this leadership team. You have Barnabas, from the island of Cyprus in the Mediterranean; Simeon from sub-Saharan Africa; Lucius from Cyrene which is in Northern Africa; Manaen from Rome and later the Middle East; and Saul from Tarsus, in Asia Minor. These men, who were different races with different backgrounds and different cultures, all came together to lead this community of believers. This was a community where people took seriously the call of God to love one another – not a select group, not a select race or ethnicity, not a select class or creed, but all. When the people of Antioch saw this group of believers, this community that was so different, so counter-cultural, so loving and grace-filled and hopeful and Spirit-filled, there was only one name they could come up with to describe them: Christian.

“Christian” literally means follower of Christ, one who professes Christ as Lord and Savior and lives as Christ would have them live. C.S. Lewis defined Christian this way in Mere Christianity: “The whole offer which Christianity makes is this: that we can, if we let God have His way, come to share in the life of Christ. If we do, we shall then be sharing a life which was begotten, not made, which always existed and always will exist. Christ is the Son of God. If we share in this kind of life we also shall be sons of God. We shall love the Father as He does and the Holy Ghost will arise in us. He came to this world and became a man in order to spread to other men the kind of life He has — by what I call “good infection.” Every Christian is to become a little Christ. The whole purpose of becoming a Christian is simply nothing else.”

To become Little Christs should be the goal of every believer. Only as we love him and love like him will we be able to have an impact in this world on his behalf and bring much-needed diversity into our corner of the Body of Christ here at Christ Church. May it be so!

If you have ever been on a Christian retreat, you know exactly where I am right now. I call it the Post-Retreat Blur.

Our pastoral team returned this past Friday after having spent two days of rest, reflection, and fellowship in Black Mountain, North Carolina.  For forty-eight hours, my life was simple. It was worship, deep conversations, quiet mornings, lots of laughter, and a tangible sense that the Holy Spirit had invaded that mountain.  In the sacred space that became my private room in the lodge, He moved with precision. He brought a divine clarity to a few things He’s been nudging me about—those deep-rooted 'somethings' I had been too busy to address. As God’s Spirit moved, the heavy fog of the world began to dissipate. My heart felt weightless, my spiritual vision became much clearer, and for the first time in far too long, the internal noise fell silent—leaving room for the only voice that actually matters.

But then … the ride home happened. Coming off the "mountain" and back into the "valley" of real life is a total system shock. While on retreat, the atmosphere was thick with a peace so heavy it felt like a shield. Then, in the quiet of my room, it was just me, the Holy Spirit, and a level of worship that felt like standing on the edge of heaven. In those moments, His voice was the only frequency I could hear. But now that I’m back, that peace feels terrifyingly fragile—like a thin glass jar I’m trying to carry through a crowded room without shattering.

I find myself bracing for the first 'loud' thing to break it. I’m mourning the silence, feeling as though the intimacy I found there is drifting away with every mile I travel from the retreat grounds.

But the Holy Spirit whispered a correction to my heart this morning: The peace I felt wasn't tied to the architecture of the retreat center or the solitude of my room in the lodge. Those weren't the sources of the Spirit; they were just the containers. If the Spirit of God lives within me, then I am not a person trying to protect a fragile peace—I am the temple of the Prince of Peace Himself.

I realize the 'fragility' I feel is my soul adjusting to the noise. The intimacy isn't distant; it’s just transitioning from a 'visit' to a 'dwelling.' I don’t have to go back to the mountain to find Him; I just have to remember that the same Spirit who met me in the quiet of that room is currently standing in the middle of my chaos, waiting for me to exhale, acknowledge Him again, and invite Him into the mundane. He’s in the laundry room, too.

During the retreat, I wrote down three specific things the Holy Spirit spoke to my heart. Today, they feel somewhat harder to believe than they did a week ago. But, I’m choosing to honor those words as truth, even when my "to-do list" tries to drown them out.

• I’m resisting the urge to jump back into 100 mph life.
• I’m keeping my phone on "Do Not Disturb" for one more hour.
• I’m keeping the worship playlist on repeat in my kitchen.

If you’re feeling a little "blue" today, or if the world feels a bit too loud, give yourself some grace. We often imagine that "time with God" requires a retreat center, a perfectly brewed cup of coffee, a house so quiet you can hear your own heartbeat. But for most of us, life is a "game of calendar Tetris"—a whirlwind of laundry, school pick-up and drop-off lines, grocery shopping, and never-ending notifications.

The good news? God doesn’t wait for the chaos to subside before He shows up. He is a "very present help in trouble," right in the middle of the chaos. Oftentimes, we tell ourselves that we need to create the perfect moment and setting to spend time with the Lord, but rather than waiting for the ideal moment, what if we invite Him into the exact moment we are in?

What does that look like? Allow me to share a few personal practices of my own—a few ways I invite the Holy Spirit to join me throughout my day, especially in moments of stress. 

• Turn your car into a “personal sanctuary” by exchanging sports or talk radio for worship music or a Christian podcast.
• Pray while the coffee brews. While your coffee drips into the pot, read a Psalm or offer Him your schedule for the day ahead.
• When you sense your stress level rising. Maybe a deadline is looming, or the kids are wild, and you don’t have space for an extended time of prayer, use breath prayers synced with your breathing. Try this:
  • Inhale: “Lord, give me…” Exhale: “...Your peace.” (x 3)
  • Inhale: “I am…” Exhale: “...held by You.” (x 3)
• While folding laundry, intercede in prayer for the person whose clothes you are folding.

Jesus never promised that following Him would mean an easy, stress-free life. In fact, quite the opposite, for He said, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” – John 16:33 (NIV)

This verse is a powerful reminder that chaos and trouble are not signs of spiritual failure–they are a guaranteed part of life. But the flow of peace doesn’t depend on your circumstances or the perfect environment; it depends on the One who has already secured the victory.

One of my favorite hymns from childhood is Victory In Jesus. The song speaks of a victory secured “long ago.” Dear friend, when your current “chaos” feels overwhelming, look to the cross. If Jesus could overcome death, He can certainly handle your Thursday.

There is power in declaring the truth out loud. Even if you just hum the chorus, would you allow the words “Victory in Jesus, my Savior Forever” to drown out the noise of your to-do list?

O victory in Jesus, my Savior, forever!
He sought me and bought me with His redeeming blood;
He loved me ere I knew Him, and all my love is due Him.
He plunged me to victory beneath the cleansing flood

In Numbers 6:24-26, the Lord (God) speaks to Moses, commanding him to instruct Aaron and his sons (the priests) to pronounce a blessing over the Israelites. I want to allow this blessing to have the final word over you today.

“The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.”
— Numbers 6:24-26 (NIV)

Peace be with you, under the wings of Jehovah Shalom ~
Pastor Jen