Unfolding

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I just finished reading Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. I enjoyed it very much, but through the whole book, I felt like I wasn’t getting the whole picture. The story unfolded gradually and kept me guessing until the end, when it all came together and made sense.

The two disciples walking on the road to Emmaus didn’t see the big picture quite yet. They had heard reports that very morning that Jesus’ body was missing. They didn’t know the stranger walking with them on the road was that body—alive and well. They had heard rumors about angels and empty tombs. It seemed like amazing things were happening.

So why were these two walking away from all the action?
Did they disregard as gossip the reports that Jesus was alive?
Why didn’t they stay and at least check it out?

All their information was second-hand. Somebody else saw the empty tomb. Somebody else witnessed the heavenly hosts. Other peoples’ amazing stories are easy to walk away from.

What these two didn’t know was that their own amazing story was unfolding as they walked on that road.

Sometimes we can’t see what God is doing,
but everyone who walks with Jesus
has a story that is unfolding.

When I am troubled, disappointed, or even feel like walking away,
I need to remember this:
I’m in the middle of my story
and someday it will all come together and make sense.

What is unfolding today for you?
Don’t stop, keep walking.

On the Loose

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Did you know that the 40 day period between Jesus’ resurrection and His ascension is called “Eastertide”? In other words, Easter isn’t over—it’s just getting started!

Many people spend the 40 days leading up to Easter (Lent) preparing for Resurrection Sunday. All that preparation for a one-hour party? Nope. We’re supposed to spend the 40 days after Easter celebrating the risen Savior!

“He appeared to them over a period of forty days.” Acts 1:3

The resurrected Jesus kept showing up—unexpectedly, miraculously, joyfully.
That means from now until May 14th (Ascension Day) the Easter party keeps rolling.

Here’s why Jesus rising from the dead is worthy of a 40-day celebration:

An un-resurrected Jesus reduces Him to a historical figure, a wise teacher, a one-hit-wonder.
An un-resurrected Jesus can be dismissed as another dead philosopher.
An un-resurrected Jesus means we don’t have to believe His claims or obey His commands.

A resurrected Jesus changes EVERYTHING.

“In many respects, I find an un-resurrected Jesus easier to accept.
Easter makes Him dangerous.
Easter means He must be loose out there somewhere.”*

Jesus is on the loose!
He keeps showing up!
Come, join the dangerous celebration!

*The Jesus I Never Knew, Philip Yancey

The Glorious Middle

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“They were on their way up to Jerusalem,
with Jesus leading the way,
and the disciples were astonished,
while those who followed were afraid.” 
Mark 10:32

 This is the picture that grips me during Holy Week:

Jesus, striding up to Jerusalem, determined to carry out his mission—
which would involve betrayal, mocking, flogging, crucifixion and death.

He led the way.

Four times, Jesus told His disciples what was coming.
He always included the final part—resurrection—
but they didn’t seem to hear it.

“The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into the hands of men.  
They will kill him,
and on the third day he will be raised to life.”  
And the disciples were filled with grief. 
Matthew 17:23

Jesus lost them at “they will kill him.”

The Twelve were full of fear,
perhaps wondering if death was also waiting for them in Jerusalem.

BUT THEY STILL FOLLOWED.

They did it scared.

I must remember,
when I am astonished at being led down the road marked with suffering,
that it’s a place He’s been before—
and He knows the way.

I can still follow.
I can do it scared.

The disciples thought the cross was the end of the story.
But it was the middle of the story.

Those things you’ve prayed about for weeks, months, and years?
Your story isn’t over.
You’re in the gory, glorious middle.
Because the cross is never the end.
The cross is always followed by the resurrection.
Always.

Sunday’s coming.

The Boys Are Back

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As a kid I wasn’t much of an athlete, although I tried.

In fifth grade I joined the girl’s summer softball team. The coach put me in when we were getting creamed and there were two outs in the bottom of the ninth and it was getting late and he needed a sure out. Thus ended my softball career.

In junior high, I went out for basketball. I made a basket once. For the other team. I cried my eyes out in the locker room, even though we lost by twenty points. So I hung up my sneakers for good.

In high school, I ran in the 440 relay. My real reason for going out for track was because my voice teacher told me running would be good for my singing. It was. I lost every race but got the lead in the musical.

When I had kids of my own who showed an interest in sports,
I finally found my true calling.
I am a great fan.

That’s why today is such a banner day.
I get to use my gift for the next 187 days of the MLB season.
So, rap that apple, boys.
Throw the yakker, Miz.
Let’s see some oppo tacos, Yeli.

Today I will send my sons a meme from The Sandlot.


Today I will tune in to watch the first pitch.


Today I will wear my Brewer T-shirt.

Today I will eat a hotdog.

Because that’s my calling.

Kidneys and Bowels

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I know.
Weird title.
I’m going somewhere with this.

Although it’s hard to pick one favorite Psalm, I’d have to say Psalm 16 ranks right up at the top for me. It’s one of the few Psalms I’ve put to memory and I love to run through it in my head right before I go sleep.

There’s one line that always makes me smile. Verse seven says, “I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me.” I like the idea of God downloading His wisdom while I’m sleeping—teaching me even as I’m in a semi-conscious state. But there’s more.

The word “heart” in the phrase “even at night my heart instructs me,” is a very interesting word in the original Hebrew. It actually translates, “Even at night my kidneys instruct me.” Kidneys!

In ancient times, it was believed that the seat of human emotion resided in the lowest organs of the body—like saying, “from the bottom of my heart.” When animals were sacrificed in the temple, the most precious, choice part of the offering were the internal organs. Especially the fat around the kidneys.

Fast forward one thousand years and the Greeks took it even farther.
Or maybe I should say, even lower.

When Paul wrote a letter to his friend, Philemon, he said, “Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the saints.”

In Greek, “hearts” mean “bowels.”

So, this week, I dare you to tell your loved ones:

“I love you with all the fat around my kidneys,”
or
“I love you from the bottom of my bowels.”

Big Ben

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I have put off reading 1 and 2 Chronicles for years. It’s notorious for long lists and boring genealogies. Half of it is a remix of the previous books, Samuel and Kings. Some of it is repeated word for word, so I’ve skipped over Chronicles many times.

But no more.
Reading through it now is unearthing some delightful surprises.

Long before the Marvel Universe or the Avengers, there were some real-life super heroes. They were called David’s Mighty Men and their names are listed in 1 Chronicles 11. Among this group of warriors, was the “The Thirty”—known for great exploits and valiant fighting. Among “The Thirty” was “The Three”— they were the most famous of all. This trio once broke through enemy lines, drew fresh water from a well and brought it back to King David because they overheard him say he was thirsty. They risked their lives to get their beloved leader a cold drink.

One of David’s Mighty Men was particularly impressive.
A single 14-word sentence was written of Benaiah,
“He went down into a pit on a snowy day and killed a lion.”

This begs some questions.
Did he chase that lion into the pit?
Why did he jump into the pit with the lion?
Why was he out chasing lions on a snowy day?
How did he manage to kill the king of beasts all by himself?

This short sentence isn’t all we get of Ben’s life. When King David saw the man crawl out of that snowy pit with a lion skin rug, he said, “Make that man my chief body guard.” Good move.

Sometimes I wonder what will be remembered about me someday.
What 14-word sentence could sum up my life and times?

“She made really good chocolate chip cookies
and watched a lot of baseball games.”
Lord, have mercy.

Good thing snow is in the forecast.
I’ve got some lions to chase.

Roll the Credits

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PB and I don’t go out to see a movie very often, but when we do, I am always impressed by the long list of names that roll by at the end, each one having contributed to the making of the film. We like to sit through the entire list of credits out of respect for all the hard work and dedication of so many people.

We are the last ones to leave the theater. I just know that if one of my loved ones’ names was rolling by, I’d want to acknowledge it. And point it out to everyone in the theater.

That’s kind of how I feel when I come to one of those long lists of genealogies in the Bible. While it may be tempting to skip over them, I tend to think those names deserve a little attention. After all, they were real people. If God saw fit to include their names in His Word, I should at least acknowledge them.

I’m reading 1 Chronicles in March. (See my Bible Reading Plan 2026) The first several chapters contain long lists of historical records and family lines. This will be a real test of my stick-to-itiveness, but there are gems hidden in there, I’m sure of it. Each name has contributed in some way to the story of Jesus. I’m just glad I don’t have to pronounce any of those names out loud.

Shout out to Hazarmaveth, Hazzelelponi, and Tilgathpilneser.

I see you Ir, Er, and Uz.

Kudos to you, Ulam, and your 150 grandsons. (Thanks for not naming them all.)

You can bet that I’ll be watching the credits roll when season six of “The Chosen” is released. PB’s name will be cast upon the big screen, along with hundreds of other extras. Wait for the “O”s and don’t blink.

Crumbs

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He gives thanks for the loaves,
hands the bread to his disciples,
and 4,000 people eat dinner.

The disciples pick up the scraps, but somehow forget to bring any along for the boat ride home.

Well, there is one little loaf—but that’s not enough to feed 12 hungry men. Right?

There is a discussion. “Why didn’t you bring some of that leftover bread?” “Nobody told me to.” “I thought he was getting some.” “I thought you were.”

The Master asks the next question: “Why are you talking about having no bread?” The embarrassed silence is followed by seven more rapid-fire questions. The men manage to answer two of the eight questions.

The easy ones:

“How many basketfuls did you pick up when I fed 5,000 with 5 loaves?”
“Twelve.”
“How many basketfuls did you pick up when I fed 4,000 with 7 loaves?”
“Seven.”

Then the hard ones:

“Do you have eyes but fail to see? 
Do you have ears but fail to hear? 
Are your hearts hard?
Do you still not understand?
Don’t you remember?”

I think I’m starting to understand.

Followers of Jesus are called to give and serve and feed and clean up after people. The task can appear overwhelming and some days it seems impossible to satisfy the needs of so many. And then Jesus speaks blessing over the paltry offering and a miracle takes place. It’s amazing, but it’s also exhausting. Servants go home tired and realize they didn’t get to eat the miracle meal.

Jesus says, “What do you mean, there’s nothing left for you? What’s in your hand?”

I say, “A few bread crumbs.”

And He says, “Don’t you remember? Don’t you understand?”

Jesus, the great multiplier, is in my boat, where crumbs become a feast.

I’m beginning to understand.

Thick and Thin

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Lent always takes me by surprise.
It seems like we just packed away the Nativity scene
and here we are—already headed for the cross.

I always go into Lent with a sense of trepidation.
Like the disciples, I tend to drag my feet and want to lag behind.

“They were on their way up to Jerusalem,
with Jesus leading the way,
and as the disciples were following
they were filled with terror and dread.”
Mark 10:32 

Again this year, Lord? Really? Do I have to walk the road to Golgotha with You once more? Do I have to witness yet again the torture, the nails, the blood, the injustice of it all? Is it truly necessary to contemplate sacrifice and sorrow, surrender and selflessness? Must I enter the wilderness with You for forty days and forty nights?

Can’t we just meet up on Easter?

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God,
have mercy on me, a sinner.

I need Lent.

“We need more than a Good Friday service two days in advance to get into the state of mind and heart to celebrate Jesus’ victory over death and hell. We cannot prepare for Easter over the weekend. No, we need to walk a longer pilgrimage to get ready.” Aaron Damiani, The Good of Giving Up

“Lent is about thinning our lives
in order to
thicken our communion with God.”
Alicia Britt Chole, 40 Days of Decrease

I’m in.
I’ll walk this pilgrimage to the cross again.
Through thick and thin.

Be An Olympian

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The Apostle Paul was a sports fan.

He loved a good sports analogy and used them often when talking about the spiritual life: running, wrestling, boxing, winning the prize.

A few miles outside Corinth, the Isthmian Games were held every two years. There were no Airb&bs in the area, so tentmakers made a killing on the sale of temporary shelters for the fans who came from far away.

Paul went to Corinth and met Aquilla and his wife Pricilla “and because he was a tentmaker as they were, he stayed and worked with them.” (Acts 18:3) Maybe he attended an event, or maybe he heard the cheers from the stadium.

The Isthmian Games had competitions in footraces, wrestling, boxing, throwing the discus and javelin, the long jump, chariot racing, poetry reading and singing. Yes, poetry reading. And singing. There was only one winner in each category—no second or third place. And there were no medals.

The winner was given a crown made out of celery.

“Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training.
They do it to get a crown that will not last,
but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.”
1 Corinthians 9:25

Olympians are inspirational. As I watch the athletes perform at such a high level, I think, “What is behind that one moment of glory?” Champions are made in the things we don’t see. The daily workouts, the daily reps, the daily nutritional program.

Life is built on the dailies, even for average, unathletic people like me who will never stand on an Olympic podium. The seemingly unimportant and unseen daily routines accumulate over time. They determine if I live with halfheartedness or excellence.

What if I approached my life with God as an Olympian?

Could I stick to the consistent discipline of living for Christ?
Do I have enough dedication to take my faith seriously every day?
Are my daily routines helping or hurting my spiritual life?
Am I running the race set before me in such a way to win the prize?

“You will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away.” 1 Peter 5:4

And it ain’t made of celery.

“Exercise daily in God—no spiritual flabbiness, please!
Workouts in the gymnasium are useful,
but a disciplined life in God is far more so,
making you fit both today and forever.”
1 Timothy 4:8, The Message