Do you see the pattern yet? New York City is responding to ‘West Nile Virus’ with a MASS pesticide spraying operation. They are CAUSING the illnesses with their ‘solutions’. pic.twitter.com/1MoieZ5tRX — Liz Churchill (@liz_churchill10) August 31, 2024

by Rajan Laad, All News Pipeline: The word ‘bias’ is inadequate to describe what the mainstream media has devolved into. Bias means an inclination, leaning, or preference, but nothing beyond that. For instance, you may prefer the films of Akira Kurosawa, but you also enjoy the work of other masters such as Kubrick, Hitchcock, Bergman, […]

A Prayer for Recognizing God’s Answers to Our PrayersBy Meg Bucher Bible Reading"I lift my eyes to you, O God, enthroned in heaven." – Psalm 123:1 "Ok, God," I'll often say, "You say if it matters to me, then You care about it ...so, can you please help me (insert ask.)" Find my keys. Find my phone. Heal my sore knee. Give me patience with my daughter. I need a friend today. Stretch my minutes. Can the sun just come out ... On and on, at least I can say I make a good attempt to obey God's command to ‘pray continually' (1 Thes 5:18). Psalm 123 is a short psalm, just four verses. But the way it starts captivates me every time I read it. "I lift my eyes to you, O God, enthroned in heaven." Such a reminder of who God is ...and how needy I really am! I am so dependent on God for literally all of the things that fill up my daily life. "The psalm writer lifted his eyes to God, waiting and watching for God to send his mercy," the NLT Life Application Bible explains, "The more he waited, the more he cried out to God because the scoffing of the evil and proud was unrelenting and he couldn't bear it any longer." Ah, there's a part of life that reminds us of the news, doesn't it? The bad news is easy to find. In fact, it surrounds us. One year, I resolved to cater my social media feeds to good news and truth. I spent that year unfollowing things that made me anxious and following things that reminded me of Jesus. I get my news in three separate news emails – 2 are nonbiased, and one is Christ-centered. I had to take those thoughts captive, milling around on social media. Praying this Psalm rights the countenance of our hearts so we can remember that God really is in control despite the chaos. Verse 2 says: "We keep looking to the LORD our God for his mercy, just as servants keep their eyes on their master, as a slave girl watches her mistress for the slightest signal." Psalm 123:2 NLT The Message paraphrase reads, "We're watching and waiting, holding our breath, awaiting your word of mercy." When we pray to God, do we know how to interpret His answers? Do we know what to look and listen for? What to anticipate? Scripture assures us God answers our prayers, but do we look for His reply in the fabric of our everyday lives? Do we hear Him in His Word, through a friend, out in nature, or through a seeming coincidence that echoes an answer to our request? Praying this Psalm reminds us to be open to receive God's response to our prayers. Verse 3 continues:   "Have mercy on us, LORD, have mercy, for we have had our fill of contempt." Psalm 123:3 NLT Contempt is the feeling of disdain or scorn for something considered mean, vile, or worthless, and can also refer to willful disobedience or disrespect towards court or legislative orders. (Dictionary.com) We are surrounded with contempt. We do not want to start blending in with the chaos around us: mean, vile, worthless, disrespectful ... no, thank you. But we all know too well how surrounding influences bleed into our persona subtly. Lastly, verse 4: "We have had more than our fill of the scoffing of the proud and the contempt of the arrogant." Psalm 123:4 NLT The more aware we are of who God is and who we are to Him, the more pronounced the chaos of the world feels some days. By praying the words of this Psalm, we choose to embrace the privilege of peace that comes as we walk with Christ instead. Let's pray:  Father, I lift my eyes up to you, O, God, enthroned in heaven. I keep looking to You for Your mercy, God, as a child who cannot contain their excitement to see someone they dearly love and have missed. Or the ice cream truck. That's how I feel today, God, anticipating Your answer to my prayers ...remembering that You are with me always and that You care about the smallest details in my life! Thank you so much for that, God! You are so kind and compassionate to me. Help me to see, hear, and know how You are answering my prayers. I want to feel Your presence in my life palpably! Have mercy on me, LORD! Carve any contempt out of my heart and guard me from the weight of the world and its surrounding influence. I have had my fill of it ...and it so subtly bleeds the fabric of my life, God. Protect me from people who have ill intentions for me. Protect me from the corrupt edges of my daily life, God, and things I can't even see that I am not aware of. Build my faith up, God, day by day. Replace chaos with peace.In Jesus' Name, Amen. Photo credit: ©GettyImages/fizkes Meg writes about everyday life within the love of Christ at megbucher.com. She is the author of "Friends with Everyone, Friendship within the Love of Christ," "Surface, Unlocking the Gift of Sensitivity," "Glory Up, The Everyday Pursuit of Praise," "Home, Finding Our Identity in Christ," and “Sent, Faith in Motion.” Meg earned a Marketing/PR degree from Ashland University but stepped out of the business world to stay home and raise her two daughters ...which led her to pursue her writing passion. A contributing writer for Salem Web Network since 2016, Meg is now thrilled to be a part of the editorial team at Salem Web Network. Meg loves being involved in her community and local church, leads Bible study, and serves as a youth leader for teen girls. Related Resource: Remember God’s Enduring Love for You in this Guided Meditation on Psalm 100! This guided Christian meditation from Psalm 100 will help you experience and praise God for his unending love for you. Become aware of God's presence with you, and praise God for his loyal and enduring love from the beginning of time and into the future. Listen to every episode of the So Much More Podcast on LifeAudio.com, or subscribe on Apple or Spotify so you never miss an episode! Now that you’ve prayed, are you in need of someone to pray for YOU? Click the button below! Visit iBelieve.com for more inspiring prayer content. The post A Prayer for Recognizing God’s Answers to Our Prayers – Your Daily Prayer – September 2 appeared first on GodUpdates.

September 2, 2024 Gray Areas of Motherhood: What To Do When There's No Clear Right AnswerEMILY A. JENSEN AND LAURA WIFLER Lee en español "If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him." James 1:5 (ESV)  We encounter a lot of decisions in motherhood that don't seem to have a clear right or wrong answer. Those "gray areas" - or everyday motherhood decisions not explicitly addressed in Scripture - can easily trip us up, making us feel paralyzed and anxious. Things like:Should I enroll my child in this sport? Where should I send my kid to school? When do I give my child a phone? Should I let them watch that show, listen to this music, or hang out with that friend? Thankfully, God's Word still gives us guidance and advice so we can employ biblical wisdom in these gray areas. Following biblical wisdom means applying what we know about God and His Word to the situation we have in front of us, and it's a skill that we can learn with His help. James 1:5 says, "If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him."  Asking God for wisdom is our first step when faced with a gray-area decision. In addition, here are three helpful questions for seeking wisdom in unclear situations: 1. Is the cost to me and my family worth it? Though the idea of cost automatically makes us think of money, this is not the only way to quantify cost. Activities, lifestyles and material items can also cost us time and attention. We should thoughtfully count the cost of our choices in the context of prayer and God’s Word, also consulting our spouse if we're married and our Christian community (where appropriate). Then if we do move forward and say "yes," we can do so with our eyes wide open to the challenges and risks, ready to try to mitigate them with God's leadership and help (Luke 14:28). 2. Does this align with my family's mission? Every family has a unique and God-given mission. Before we spend time or money on something, we can each stop to consider how it fits into our mission as a woman, a wife and/or a mom as well as the mission of our family unit. Sometimes we see others doing things that look interesting or amazing, and we adopt those goals for ourselves, only to realize later that those things don't fit the calling God has given us (Ephesians 4:1). 3. How permanent is this decision? Some decisions are easy to change, some come with a higher level of commitment, and others can be nearly permanent. We don't need to live in fear of making a big decision. But if possible, we can assess the permanency of the decision and align that with the amount of time, care, consideration and attention we give it as we move forward. As we learn to negotiate the gray areas of life using gospel-inspired wisdom, we can walk in freedom, able to live for God's glory without fear, guilt or shame. Father, give me wisdom for decisions that I don't have a clear answer for. I know You give wisdom to all who ask, so please grant me discernment to make choices for my unique family and to walk in confidence as the mom You’ve made me to be. In Jesus' Name, Amen. OUR FAVORITE THINGS In Gospel Mom, learn how to navigate your everyday decisions and current circumstances through a biblical lens, and experience freedom and confidence in who God made you to be. Walk step by step through helpful practices and biblical thinking about how to rest in the grace of Christ, gaining peace and assurance in your motherhood. Gospel Mom releases October 15, 2024; preorder your copy today! ENGAGE To learn more, visit Risen Motherhood or connect with Emily or Laura on their sites. Enter to WIN your very own copy of Gospel Mom by Emily A. Jensen and Laura Wifler. To celebrate this book, their publisher will give away 5 copies! Enter to win by leaving a comment here. {We'll randomly select 5 winners and then notify each one in the comments section by Monday, September 9, 2024.} FOR DEEPER STUDY Proverbs 2:6, "For the LORD gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding ..." (ESV). Proverbs 3:5-6, "Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths" (ESV). What difficult decision have you had to make recently? What tools did you use to arrive at your decision? Who are the trusted people in your life who can help you evaluate an important decision? Make a list of these people, and reach out the next time a big decision needs to be made. © 2024 by Emily A. Jensen and Laura Wifler. All rights reserved. Proverbs 31 MinistriesP.O. Box 3189 Matthews, NC 28106 www.Proverbs31.org The post Gray Areas of Motherhood: What To Do When There’s No Clear Right Answer – Encouragement for Today – September 2, 2024 appeared first on GodUpdates.

Including Tuk Smith, Warren Haynes, Terrorvision and five other leaders of the rock'n'roll pack

Gen Z is a generation that faces the temptation to avoid hard things. With phones to hide behind, it’s easier than ever to get lost in a virtual world instead of facing the real world. Scripture tells us we shouldn’t be surprised when we face trials in this life as if something strange were happening to us, and that we can even rejoice in trials (1 Pet. 1:6–7; 4:12–13). Our young writers are learning this countercultural lesson. We have a God who cares more about our Christ-conformity than our comfort, and this is good news. Over the past few months, we’ve had the privilege of reading the submissions to The Gospel Coalition’s 2024 Essay Contest for Young Adults. Nearly 200 young writers submitted original essays, and the editorial team reviewed them. These writers shared personal testimonies of their wrestling with God as they faced debilitating illness, societal pressure, and unfulfilled desires. We were impressed by their self-reflections on what they were pursuing more than God, whether it was acceptance into university, dream jobs, or the phones in their pockets. Their writing displayed their desire to treasure Christ above all else. Thoughtful Writers The essays TGC received came from 183 young writers: They ranged in age from 16 to 22. Many were high school students; others were in college or just beginning their adult lives. As with last year’s contest, two-thirds of the writers were female. They’re members of local churches—Presbyterians, Baptists, and Anglicans predominated, with many nondenominational churches also represented. They submitted their essays from all over the U.S. and 14 other countries including Canada, South Africa, Malaysia, and the United Arab Emirates. Many of these young writers poured out their hearts as they shared about times when God, in his love, withheld something from them. Others wrote of how they moved from clinging to their phones to clinging to Christ. Some shared how they see the need for men and women like themselves to give their lives to vocational ministry to reach the 3 billion people with no access to the gospel. Our hearts were warmed as we read stories of Gen Z Christians refusing the lies their culture is feeding them. Instead, they’re inviting us to taste and see with them that the Lord is good (Ps. 34:8). Personal Reflections In TGC’s contest guidelines, we provided three prompts that allowed writers to reflect on their own lives as a means of speaking to their generation. Gen Zers are stereotypically called “screenagers” for spending a considerable amount of time on the internet. One prompt asked, “How has the gospel changed your relationship with your phone?” Many who chose this prompt were aware of their temptation to depend on their devices. They want to view their phones as tools, not as extra limbs. Other writers shared why they’re considering full-time vocational ministry, knowing it’ll come at great cost. They’re willing to lay aside dream jobs with well-paying salaries for the sake of serving the Lord. Having to stand firm in the faith amid a deconstructing culture, they see themselves as equipped to reach their generation. The most selected prompt was “When did the Lord love you by not giving you what you wanted?” By withholding something these young people wanted (though it was often a good thing), the Lord in his kindness revealed sin in their lives, drawing them closer to himself. What a beautiful picture of what our loving Father does for us, his children (Heb. 12:5–11). We pray your hearts will be warmed and your souls edified as you read these essays (and TGC will be publishing more of them over the coming months). 3 Winners Among the essays, three pieces stood out as well-crafted, thoughtful, and engaging. Our editorial team was clear about which winners to select, and we’re delighted to publish them on the site for you to read. First Place: “Who Was ‘i’ Without My iPhone?” by Luke Simon Luke opens his essay with these words: “Steve Jobs might’ve been a prophet. Or he at least predicted how his device would shape my future. After all, he placed the ‘i’ next to ‘Phone.’” Behind his screen, Luke Simon became luk3simon, forging a new identity and avoiding reality—and ultimately God. Eventually, he realized he needed a digital detox. Luke gives us practical ways to unhitch our identities from our phones, pointing us to the hope found in Jesus alone. Second Place: “How God’s ‘No’ to My Dream School Was a ‘Yes’ to the Local Church” by Logan Watters In her inspiring essay, Logan tells of how membership in a faithful, gospel-preaching church was a better pursuit than her dream school. And this made no sense to her friends. When we seek the Lord’s will and his plans above our own, the self-seeking world around us is left confused. Logan writes, “After a taste of [God’s] plans compared to mine, I don’t want anything else.” Third Place: “The Lord Loved Me by Giving Me a Broken Family” by Karsten Harrison In his essay, Karsten sees God’s love through unanswered prayer. Speaking to those who come from broken families, Karsten brings hope by pointing to the Lord’s steadfast love and the rich fellowship found with our church family. He writes, “God doesn’t simply give whatever we ask. Instead, we pray that his will would be accomplished, thus aligning our wills with his.” May we learn with him that God’s “No” always comes from his love for us and invites us to depend on him. Take time today to read these essays and praise God for his faithfulness in his love toward us: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (Lam. 3:22–23)

Steve Jobs might’ve been a prophet. Or he at least predicted how his device would shape my future. After all, he placed the “i” next to “Phone” and, soon enough, wherever I was, my phone was right next to me. Through the ups and downs of my teenage years, the line between it and me blurred. I was my phone, and my phone was I. But my iPhone wasn’t merely a core part of my identity—it helped me forge a new one. IRL, I was Luke Simon. But on my iPhone, I was luk3simon. Luke Simon craved approval. But luk3simon didn’t care what other people thought. Luke Simon felt dejected when girls rejected him. But luk3simon was all thumbs up and smiles. Luke Simon longed for the good life. But luk3simon already had it. As I aged, I never grew more comfortable with myself. Instead, I spent more and more hours each day as luk3simon. It was easier that way. Why face the man in the mirror when the man in the selfie had filters? Why face the God of reality when I could create my own? Why deal with pain when I could escape it? During my last year of high school, I finally admitted I had a problem. I wanted more of Jesus, but the idol factory in my heart wanted more of something else: my phone. By God’s grace, I began to see I craved my phone not for its screen, or for its addictive entertainment, or even as an escape. What I truly craved was hope—hope for redemption, hope for restoration, hope for being the human that God created me to be. I craved the hope of the gospel. But whatever luk3simon offered Luke Simon, it wasn’t hope. It was a soul-sucking, empty world that only left me hopeless in the real one. By God’s grace, I began to see that I craved my phone not for its screen, or addictive entertainment, or even an escape. What I truly craved was hope. Thankfully, Jesus saved me from luk3simon. Digital Detox Around this time, I read C. S. Lewis’s Screwtape Letters, in which the demonic uncle Screwtape reminds his nephew that “all the habits of the patient, both mental and bodily, are still in [the demons’] favour.” The patient he spoke of was a new Christian, and I saw myself in him. Though I dreamed of mastery over my phone, I knew that years of habitual phone usage cut deep grooves into my brain and only new habits were going to replace them. So, like any addict on the road to recovery, I admitted my powerlessness, called on God for help, and went to rehab. My iPhone rehabilitation process included three adjustments: 1. Airplane mode at all times unless an internet connection is needed. 2. Leave my phone in the car when going to class and hanging out with friends. 3. Delete all social media. This wasn’t easy. Suddenly, the “Phone” by my side for seven years was gone, and only “i” was left. Who was I without the phone? The brokenness I escaped for so long now became the brokenness I had to engage with. Without a digital world to play God in, I had to wrestle with the God of the real world. But as my digital fast wore on, I finally began to move beyond my initial hunger pangs for screens. In their place, I started to taste the goodness of God. I picked up a new hobby with all my additional free time: reading. I read novels, theology books, philosophy books, biographies—anything I could get my hands on. But mostly, I read my Bible. And within the words of Scripture, I found the real Luke Simon in God’s eyes: I am his child (John 1:12), his workmanship (Eph. 2:10), a member of his royal priesthood (1 Pet. 2:9). I’m fearfully and wonderfully made (Ps. 139:14). I’m a new creation in Christ (2 Cor. 5:17). As I read God’s Word, it felt as if he was airlifting the house of my life from the sinking sand of the digital world and setting it firmly on the solid rock of Christ. This was an identity I didn’t have to create. This was an identity I didn’t have to fake. This was an identity I didn’t want to escape. Sober Return Eventually, I was able to come back to my phone. On this side of rehab, my phone has become a tool to engage with God’s world instead of a world to escape to. But this isn’t a happily ever after. Since my phone is still designed to addict, I’ve learned to remain sober about its power, knowing it’s a far better servant than master—and it’s the sort of servant that always wants to swap roles. On this side of rehab, my phone has become a tool to engage with God’s world instead of a world to escape to. To avoid relapsing, I’ve learned to use it for God-glorifying ends. An app now guides my Bible reading and prayer times each morning and evening. The Bible Project classrooms give me in-depth biblical insight for free. Though I still abstain from social media, I’m active in group chats that aid my in-person and remote relationships, ranging from accountability groups to prayer requests to (of course) meme exchanges. But this isn’t the story of digital responsibility. It’s the story of the gospel. Jesus’s beauty made luk3simon, with all his filters, ugly and unattractive. Jesus’s beauty took the “i” out of iPhone and gave me a new identity in him. Jesus’s beauty gave me the strength to see the man in the mirror, repent of his sins, and live into the true self my iPhone only blurred—the true self made alive in Christ.

“Congratulations!” “Felicitări!” “Baie geluk!” Each student welcomed me to the school in his or her native language. I’d never gotten overexcited about college acceptances, but this university was made for me. It boasted superior academics, a majority-international student body, and immersion in a new country every semester. With my burgeoning desire for international missions and knack for languages, it was a no-brainer. My parents, I knew, would be hesitant. They kept saying I needed to be part of a church in college, and I responded that I’d be part of seven churches around the world. Nevertheless, I prayed for wisdom, just as I prayed that God would change their hearts. God’s ‘No’ The more counsel I sought, though, the more advice I got to prioritize Christian community. My discipler explained that Christians are united in such a way that the spiritual health of one affects the spiritual health of the rest (Eph. 4:15–16). My pastor said, “It’s better to have one Christian friend than to go to the best university in the world.” My small group was studying the Psalms, and I meditated on the fact that God wrote out all my days (Ps. 139:16). It seemed ridiculous to try to compete with that for control over my life. My parents weren’t budging, and as options dwindled, I realized with frustration that the response to my prayer was clear. The more counsel I sought, the more advice I got to prioritize Christian community. After getting accepted to a university in Washington, DC, with a strong church nearby, it was settled. Emotionlessly, almost mechanically, I declined the admission offer from my dream school. By my peers’ standards, my choice was disappointing. Whenever I described the forward-thinking, globe-trotting experiences afforded by my dream university, I watched my friends’ faces fall from amazement to confusion when I said I turned it down to be part of a church in college. On Instagram, I was bombarded with calls to romanticize my life and travel the world, and I fended off feelings of regret when I saw pictures of my would-be classmates exploring Seoul together. But by the time I started school, I still had no question that God wanted me there. My certainty, though blind, was certainty nonetheless. God’s ‘Yes’ One Friday night, after I’d been attending Capitol Hill Baptist Church for a few weeks, I left campus to finish the church’s membership classes. In a small room, the other students and I sat as the pastor explain the church’s covenant. I listened apprehensively for the responsibilities we’d have to commit to, expecting a task list. Instead, I heard lines like these: “We will exercise an affectionate care and watchfulness over each other”; “We will not neglect to pray for ourselves and others”; “We will rejoice at each other’s happiness and bear each other’s burdens and sorrows.” “This means,” the pastor explained, “that each of you is welcome into my life. Any of you can simply ask to come over for dinner, and we’ll gladly fold you in.” I was dumbstruck. I’d never seen such unabashed hospitality. Far from a list of rules and responsibilities, this covenant was like a marriage covenant—a commitment to love and to serve above all else. I’d sensed there was something different about this church, and I realized it was driven by nothing more or less than the gospel itself. Weeks went by, and my excitement only grew. When those back home asked how my freshman year was going, classes were among the last things I discussed. I jumped into stories about the sermon series on Ephesians, the church couple’s house I crashed every Saturday night, and the booming congregational singing. And I wasn’t faking it. I didn’t embellish details just because I wanted to give my parents a nice progress report. The church was where I was spending the majority of my free time and experiencing exponential personal and spiritual growth. A few months in, it became clear my dream school would’ve been a spiritual nightmare. I would’ve had to look for a new church every semester in a language I didn’t know. Previously, I was unaware of the gravity of God’s command to not forsake assembling together (Heb. 10:25) and of how our regular attendance contributes not only to our spiritual health but to the health of Christ’s body as a whole (Eph. 4:11–16). I became painfully aware of the dangers of a slow erosion of the conscience and how it leads many to make a “shipwreck of their faith” (1 Tim. 1:19). I marveled at the thought that God might have protected me from learning this lesson the hard way. It became clear my dream school would’ve been a spiritual nightmare. One Sunday morning, I sang “How Sweet and Aweful Is the Place” with our congregation as I waited to walk up to the baptismal: “Lord, why was I a guest? / Why was I made to hear Thy voice, and enter while there’s room . . . ?” My voice stopped. The rest of the verse was lost to the wave of emotion that overtook me. How was it that God, who had so often used my foolish desires to teach me about himself, allowed me to avoid the consequences of what could’ve been my biggest folly yet? Why was he so kind as to turn the tide of my heart that week and bring me to the most spiritually flourishing season of my life? Remembering my stubbornness, I wanted to recoil at the disproportionate love God had lavished on me in spite of myself. Better Pursuit My adamancy that I’d be best prepared for missions by traveling seems comical now. My years at Capitol Hill Baptist taught me that consistent membership in a faithful, gospel-preaching church is the best preparation anyone can have—not just for missions but for all parts of the Christian life. I’m better equipped now to open my home to those in need, study Scripture analytically, and invite others to help me fight sin. Although my life today is a far cry from the radical overseas experience I envisioned after college, it’s marked by joyful, committed membership to a faithful body of believers. It’s where God has me right now, and after a taste of his plans compared to mine, I don’t want anything else.

There I was again. On the porch, avoiding my family. Weeping. I was overwhelmed by our problems. Amid my tears, I pleaded that the Lord would remove all my family’s issues and bring peace to our brokenness. He didn’t answer. That scene was all too common for me in my teens. I grew up in a dysfunctional family with alcoholic parents. It was a battle every day to keep up with school, hold a job, guard my siblings, grow in my relationship with Jesus—and love my family. It wasn’t always like that. When I was younger, my parents prioritized bringing our family to church. They cared about my relationship with Jesus. And when I put my faith in Jesus, they rejoiced and led me to baptism. My parents were my heroes. I sometimes wonder what my life would be like if sin hadn’t so viciously damaged my family. Would I still look up to my parents? Would my relationship with them be different? Would my memories of them not be tainted? I don’t know what that life would have been like because that’s not what I’ve received. The Lord loved me by giving me a broken family. There are broken families all over the world, and I’m merely one voice out of millions who have cried out to God for stability and peace. But I believe it was out of love that the Lord didn’t answer my petitions. Here’s why. I Learned to Love God’s Sanctifying Grace Grace wasn’t foreign to me. After all, I understood it was by grace that I was saved through faith (Eph. 2:8–9; Rom. 5:21). However, my view of grace was narrow and incomplete. Over time, I learned that grace isn’t merely salvific; it’s sanctifying. God’s grace isn’t just transactional; it’s ongoing, working to sanctify me so I boast more in him. There are broken families all over the world, and I’m merely one voice out of millions who’s cried out to God for stability and peace. The apostle Paul also knew this type of grace. In 2 Corinthians 12:7–8, he speaks of the thorn in the flesh that hindered him. The thorn was so detrimental that he prayed three times for its removal. But instead of removing it, the Lord told Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is perfected in weakness” (v. 9). Paul learned that God’s grace was sanctifying—it was sufficient to reveal how God’s power was being exalted through Paul’s weakness. God’s grace is sufficient for me too. His grace sanctifies me so I may be more like Paul and “boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (v. 9). I learned to love God’s sanctifying grace. I Learned to Love the Church My family became habitual church-hoppers for several years. Because of this, I grew calloused to attending church. Even though I was a regenerate believer, I struggled to drink spiritual milk (1 Pet. 2:2–3). So when we arrived at another church, I was cynical. I quickly learned I was wrong. On my arrival, faithful members were eager to get to know me, host me for family time, and disciple me. The student pastor instructed me in sound doctrine and taught me about the joy of walking with Jesus. The Lord provided authentic friendships that spurred me to love Jesus more. Now, largely because of what God did in my life through the local church, I’m attending seminary in order to love the local church for a lifetime in vocational ministry. By not giving me a stable family, the Lord taught me to treasure my adopted brothers and sisters in Christ (Rom. 8:14–17; Eph. 1:5–6). He taught me about my family purchased by Christ’s blood (1 Pet. 1:19). I learned to love the local church. I Learned to Love My Family Loving my family has been far from easy. There were times when I would’ve struggled even to say I loved them. I’ve fought with them, slandered them, and seen my pride and selfishness hurt them. My family has experienced my sin just as much as I have theirs. Yet my sin—and my family’s—pales in comparison to the unfathomable love of Jesus, my Lord (Rom. 8:35–39). By not giving me a stable family, the Lord taught me to treasure my adopted brothers and sisters in Christ. It’s through Jesus’s power that love is on clear display. In him, love is neither conditional nor self-seeking as love in the modern era often is. Instead, in Christ, love is unconditional and sacrificial. Love is in its highest form when it conforms to the nature of Christ, who himself is love (1 John 4:8, 16). And Jesus’s greatest display of love was his atoning death on the cross, where he laid down his life (John 15:13). Through this love, I learned to love my family. Christ’s love obligated me to replicate his sacrificial and unconditional love toward my family (13:34–35). I don’t replicate it perfectly, because of my indwelling sin, but I trust that Christ makes me new every day, teaching me about the depths of his love and how to better image him in the world. I learned to love my family. God doesn’t simply give us whatever we ask. Instead, we pray his will would be accomplished, thus aligning our wills with his (Matt. 6:10). I’ve continued to ask that God’s will would be done—with me, with my family, with the world. And I’ll continue to pray for his will because I’ve seen how it’s far grander than I could ever fathom. God loved me by not giving me a stable family, and he’s done that for his glory and my good.