I am more and more persuaded that truly engaged and fully present listening is a gift that Christians could give uniquely to the world, as we of all people aren’t constantly clambering to be heard. Listening is a sacred thing. I think it might be a spiritual discipline actually. Let’s be quick to listen to one another.
Cynicism isn’t a fruit of the Spirit. Skepticism isn’t a mark of Christian maturity. Sarcasm is fun, especially when it is with people who aren’t all that smart, but it isn’t actually a skill that Christians are called to develop.
Austin was once again voted as the best city in the US to live. This is incredible news and should lead us to prayerful response as Christian Austinites. As I thought it through with Sue this afternoon, I think there are six prayerful ways we should respond.
I love Spring. It is a season of optimism, newness and resurrection. Things that seemed dead burst back into life, I know this because I now need to mow my lawn every 17 minutes, and that lawn looked as dead as my hopes of picking a winning March Madness bracket just a couple of weeks ago. I love that God put the regularity of dormancy and rebirth into the world that surrounds us. He is reminding us of His kindness, His creative genius, His patience and His loving ability to bring beauty out of things that appear long gone.
What a beautiful thing! These were humble, gifted, godly, sacrificial ministry women making a real difference with what they had. This seems far removed from our conception of a few gals making salads and gossiping in the kitchen while the men grill outside and talk about the markets and doctrine and hunting and man stuff.
Once a week I write a pastoral letter to the good people of the West Congregation of the Austin Stone Community Church. I will occasionally add some of those letters here. Dear West Family I can’t believe that we have been in Austin for two months already. We have loved our time so far, just... Continue Reading →
Below is a poem about growing used to the process of sanctification as I get a bit older. It's called "The Man" The Man There’s a man who lives inside my house He looks a lot like me, except older He walks slouched by the incessant weight of cynicism and sits sunken by the burden... Continue Reading →