Is Reading Your Bible a Chore?

Have you ever found yourself lacking the motivation to open your Bible apart from just knowing you should? I found myself in a dry spell like that for years. Recently, God has been so kindly and organically developing my love for his word in connection to our relationship. Sadly, somewhere along the way (or maybe from the very beginning) that got disconnected for me.

But, God. I prayed some kind of brief, forgettable prayer asking for help to want to read the Bible a while back. It definitely wasn’t anything impressive or lengthy or even continual. I just remember realizing one day that I was waking up eager to open my Bible and that was feeling surprisingly normal and new all at the same time. It was then that I had a faint recollection of my prayer. And an even bigger swell in my heart realizing God had heard me because he had changed that for me. Now, the Bible is a “place” where I get to know him more because he is showing me it is his story.

I have participated in the collaborative Spiritual Formations cohort between NEWIM and Fuller Seminary for 2 years. Something that has impacted me greatly is dialoguing with Scripture in various ways. It is such a simple practice, but I have been struck by the depth of its influence on my thinking. And it was as simple as this: curiosity. We were challenged to read through a parable together and approach the text with questions, not answers: to ask questions of the text, to notice and wonder, to hold back interpretations and answers so we could really engage with openness and to let our questions lead us to wonder and discovery instead of trying to arrive at conclusions. I quickly realized that is not usually how I relate to the Bible.

Together, we read through the story of the woman with blood (Mark 5:25-34, Luke 8:43-48). I had read this story and listened to it in songs many times over the years, and I would have told you that the point of the story was displaying her faith that Jesus could heal her. And this is true. It is even the heading of the passage in my Bible. But I discovered so much more in this exercise of coming with eyes wide open to see and discover. There is always more. Isn’t this one of the things we love about God? We will never be done getting to know the facets of who he is and how he works. I adore this about him.

Back to the story. We circled up around the parable, none of us with a degree in anything biblical—just with the living Scriptures and our curious minds. We started vocalizing our questions to each other. I wonder why…Why did he ask out loud who was healed when he already knew? Why did he call her daughter? Why did he stop for her on the way to see a dying young girl (which seems very urgent) when she had already been bleeding for twelve years?

These questions led us to investigate more details. One woman discovered that this is the only instance in the New Testament where Jesus uses the term “daughter” when addressing a woman. Interesting. I discovered that because of her blood disease she had been deemed unclean by those around her and, therefore, rejected. She had not only lost all her money to healers, but all her community and relationships, too. And, yet she pushed through these very people to get to Jesus’s shawl. She came for healing. And she received it. She was not asking for anything out loud or even attempting anything other than wanting the bleeding to end. But then I saw something: Jesus. He knew the whole story. He knew everything that she had lost. And even though she wasn’t even asking him for it, he stopped everything on the way to a dead girl’s house to turn around and call her “daughter” in front of everyone who had rejected her. He stopped everything he was doing to declare her “well” and healed in front of everyone who had run away from her because they didn’t want to be affected by the disease she couldn’t escape. He knew this had affected her entire life, and he gave her back her reputation in her community. He valued her in front of everyone. He validated her story. He prioritized her. Her healing wasn’t based on what she asked for but based on his understanding and compassion to make sure she received everything she needed to be fully restored.

Since that exercise, I cannot get that revelation of how Jesus responded to her out of my mind. I now own it. I have seen something about him that I cannot shake and that I will carry forward with me as a deep knowing of who he is.

And I can’t stop talking about it!

Lindsay Baldwin is homeschooling two elementary school children and works at a local coffee shop. She enjoys playing outside with friends and deep conversations with anyone. She was introduced to NEWIM 17 years ago by a dear friend and, after 4 years of invitations to a guided silent retreat, she finally said yes.

She credits NEWIM’s guided silent retreats as being one of the most formative practices in deepening her relationship with God and growing in the confidence of her belovedness and hearing God’s voice. Time away alone with God has become her treasure.

Going Door to Door Singing Love Songs

My hospice patient’s husband passed some years ago. They didn’t have children. Her niece visited over the holidays. When we opened the Bible, she directed me to read the 23rd Psalm. She said it gave her the sense that God protected her. 

She didn’t want to hear me play my violin, but when I offered to sing for her, she agreed. I pulled out the “Fifty Most Beloved Movie Hits” book and started singing some of the songs I recognized. It felt a little strange to be singing love songs to this elderly widow who honestly hasn’t always been that friendly or receptive to chaplain visits. So, after three songs, I offered to leave. 

Somehow, I got the sense that she didn’t want me to go. It was the briefest little pause she made right before she said, “It’s okay, you can go.” That bit of hesitancy gave me pause, so without saying a word, I flipped to the next page and started singing the next love song. 

Suddenly, I felt overcome with a surge of compassion for her. But it was more than that. I felt like something deep within me was tapped–-the sadness over a world that isn’t right, where I can start the year on a good foot, but around me there is anxiety about the new national leadership, devastation and despair caused by the fires in the Los Angeles area, and multiple sets of friends who have been unable to conceive. 

I started tearing up as I sang the Titanic theme song, then the song from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen. Something within me broke, but not in a bad way. I just felt the power of what I was doing, even as I felt its inadequacy. I am a hospice chaplain who goes door to door, singing love songs to lonely older folk who deserve to come to the end of their lives feeling loved. 

My patient fell asleep beside me with cold ankles and cold hands. I had wrapped the blanket around her. Her body told me she was more than just a little cold. I seriously wondered if I would get to see her next month. I might not. She was frailer now, her face looked gaunter.

There is mystery in this work and profound wonder. I cannot tell you how often I wake up in the morning excited to start my day. My prayer is that as you read about my patients, you can lift them up to the Father with me. Many are going home to his embrace. It's a gift to walk with them as they prepare.

Tina grew up on Long Island, New York, in an intergenerational home of ethnically Chinese parents raised in Taiwan. After studying English literature at Harvard College, she went on staff with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship and served the multi-ethnic chapter for 6 years. In this capacity, she also ministered to the broader community as one of the Harvard Chaplains.

Over the course of 12 years of local church ministry in the Bay Area, she ministered in a variety of ways as she completed her Master of Divinity at Fuller Theological Seminary. She has served as a pastor overseeing life groups, outreach, and discipleship.  She has also had significant seasons serving as an interim pastor in various contexts.  

As a wife and involved mother of three elementary-aged children, she is now focusing on the ministry of spiritual direction and serving the broader community as a chaplain. She loves to write, play volleyball, and puzzle with friends. She has benefitted greatly from several NEWIM retreats during her years of service.

Connect with her at christinetenghenson@gmail.com.

The Joys of Pivoting

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him and he will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:5-6

In August 2024, I felt God was letting me know that I needed “to be ready to turn on a dime,” or as my friend Cindy would say: pivot. Mind you, I had no idea what God was going to be doing in my life with that phrase, but he was preparing me for a lot of pivoting in the coming months. It set the tone for my fall and winter seasons and gave me advance notice in how I was going to learn to joyfully trust God.

I had prepared to change my focus from full-time ministry to running our family-owned bed-and-breakfast for three weeks starting at the end of September, as my parents were visiting family in the States. Two weeks in, I got the call from my mom: “Your daddy is in the ER; they think it might be a heart attack. There is no hurry to get here (Texas).” But the next day, I found out Daddy would have open heart surgery in two days’ time. I was in the middle of France and did not know if I could make it in time.

BUT GOD - I found tickets, the last seat on my first flight out the next morning and made it to Texas the evening before my dad’s surgery. The joy of being there for my parents and brothers was incredible. The fellowship we were able to share and the ministering to other people in the waiting room was a sweet time. Learning to trust God fully yet being prepared to lose my dad for a time was hard. Realizing, with Mom, that if we could trust God for Daddy’s surgery, we could also trust him for the finances and the work that would be waiting for me when I went back to France five days later.

Pivoting was not a lack of planning; it became a way of peacefully and joyfully doing the good works that God had placed before me. It became ministering to my parents by taking care of the business so Daddy could heal before coming home to France. It became putting my writing and studying on the back burner to do the work needed. It involved trusting that God’s timing was good and perfect.

This complete lack of control over my circumstances was very freeing. If I was frustrated at first, I soon found a rhythm with God and a joy of seeing what each new day would bring. My husband and I became intentional in our talks and spending time with our kids. I refused clients when I saw our employees were tired, and quite frankly, so was I.

Our church services continued, just a little differently, and with a lot more involvement from the people in our little congregation. But I will admit that I missed my routine of studying Scripture with deep dives and long periods to do so.

When my parents returned, we found new rhythms again. I was able to go back to ministry, dream of the next steps for our congregation, and plan silent retreats for women here in France. I am excited to see what God is going to do in my life and the lives of the women he will bring to our next retreat.

Pivoting can be a physical action, but it is also a mental and emotional exercise. Above all else, it is an exercise in trust. When we took our second daughter to the States in August to go to college, we were exploring the idea of going back to the States to live. I was gearing up for the move, thinking of different possibilities for the coming year and how to leave France well.

My thoughts and plans were interrupted by the pivoting God had me doing. I don’t know when we are moving; I don’t know where we are going; I don’t know what we will be doing, yet I am ready for this pivot. I am ready to joyfully follow my shepherd and trust that his plan is so much better than my own.

God has used these verses to encourage me through these pivotal moments:

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. Ephesians 2:10

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:21

Kristin Isaac has a Bachelor of Engineering Degree from John Brown University. She has translated many Bible Studies and books for various individuals, ministries, and pastors. From teaching children and adult Sunday school to being involved with and starting student ministries, choirs, and women’s Bible studies, Kristin has served and led in just about every area of the church!

Kristin, her husband and their four children are full time missionaries currently residing in central France. As a family they enjoy reading, hiking, and watching TV. They’ve even had the opportunity to hike the Alps together!

Kristin discovered NEWIM in 2023. She joined the NEWIM-Fuller cohort which has deepened her trust in how God is operating in her life and the “good works” he has called her to do. 

My Conductor

Several years ago, I attended a concert, a community band comprised of accomplished musicians who simply enjoyed playing, with a friend. I was blessed by the music, but something else spoke deeply to my heart throughout the evening. I saw in this band a picture of our lives with the Lord.

The musicians, seated in their positions on the stage, each warming up and preparing their instruments. Wind instruments were assembled. Basses tuned. Percussion instruments adjusted to the right tone. Cymbals hung on a rack, ready to be used. Music stands adjusted. Random notes played, each individually warming up, creating a clamor of noise.

Then, the conductor walked onto the stage. Immediately, the orchestra was silent and still. Eyes locked on the maestro, his eyes sweeping from side to side, making contact with those before him. The rise of his baton brought the rise of the instruments. The musicians’ eyes still locked on their conductor. At his cue, the music began.

Each musician intently looked at the music before them, not just reading it but allowing it to direct their every movement. They weren’t distracted; they didn’t look around at anything else. They kept their eyes only on the music and the maestro. They weren’t looking at the audience, though they were aware of them.

This wasn’t new to them. Years of practice had prepared them for this time.

They didn’t compare themselves with others in jealousy. What if the percussionist wanted to play as much as the trombone? Can you imagine the chaos if the cymbals played constantly? The beautiful music flowed from a group united in purpose and focus and willing to do their specific part. What if one, even once, had decided he didn’t like that song and decided to play one he liked instead? Can you imagine how it would have ruined the music?

I see such a beautiful description of our lives with the Lord in this picture. He is the conductor, the maestro, and the one who wrote the music and created the song for our lives. He’s written it out, note by note, for us to follow. The Bible contains everything we need for the beautiful music, the plan he has for our lives. And as our eyes are locked on him, our focus solely on his lead, we know what to do, when to do it, following the notes he’s written, glancing up at him to maintain the rhythm. Being content to play the part he’s given us, not jealous of another’s instrument. Being surrendered to play the music before me, not thinking I have another song that I’d rather be playing. Joining my little part with those around me, working together under the direction of the Master, creating music that brings joy to his ears, and touches the lives of those who hear.

Playing my life to an audience of one. And recognizing that others are also watching and listening.

Healing Comes

Over the course of the past 13 years, I’ve worked as a pastor in several different churches around the Bay Area. I earned my Master of Divinity to be qualified to do so, but in some ways, this was never the plan. Growing up, I always thought I would serve overseas, probably in China, and homeschool my kids, because that would be my only option.  

So, when I got into church ministry, I chafed at it. I longed to be set loose, to be freed up to minister at large - to anybody and everybody. Every time I took on a new role and was handed a stack of business cards, something within me sensed, “This isn’t how I’m supposed to serve.”

In this present season, in which I’m not pastoring through a local congregation, I find myself ministering in more organic ways in our neighborhood, through friendships at my children’s school, and in our city. Recently, I’ve found some other ways of ministering, through hospice chaplaincy and spiritual direction, that feel much more authentic and truer to who I am and how God made me to be.

I want to share a moment I had a few weeks ago at Silver Oaks Memory Care in Menlo Park, visiting a new patient of mine. In that moment, suddenly the veil lifted, and for a brief time, everything came together for me. I felt so deeply loved and cared for by God and by an unexpected patient of mine in a profound and beautiful way.

This patient, who I’ll call Dee, could actually talk to me. Many of my hospice patients have dementia or Alzheimer’s, and some are so close to passing that they’re no longer able to communicate.  They can barely lift their heads; they must stay in bed, and they require a lot of support for daily living. 

But Dee could comprehend that I was her spiritual care chaplain, part of her healthcare team, and she understood what I was there to do. So, after I got her situated in her wheelchair in her shared room, tucking one shawl around her shoulders, and tucking another shawl around her tummy to keep her hands warm, she jumped right in.

“When I feel afraid, I talk to Jesus,” she told me. She looked at me with her clear blue eyes, words simple and straightforward.

“Oh! That’s wonderful,” I said. “Tell me more!”

“He looks right at me.”

Playfully, I asked her, “Out of curiosity, what color are his eyes?”

“Blue,” she told me.

My heart laughed, but I understood, so I continued, “And what does he say when you talk to him?”  I kept my tone light, but she responded with an earnestness that disarmed me.

“He says, ‘Do not worry. Everything will be okay. Your mom is doing well, and she wants you to know that.’”

As we continued talking, Dee told me what she could about her life, her parents, her husband, and her children. At points when her memory would fail, she would simply tell me she didn’t know the answer to my question.

Were her parents kind to her? Her mom was.

What was her husband like? Kind … sometimes.

How many children did she have? Two … or maybe 4. (We decided she must have had two, then after they got married, she must have felt she had 4!)

As I felt our time drawing to a close, I said to her: “There’s a Bible verse that says, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.’ (Romans 10:15) You’ve brought me such good news in how you’ve described your faith to me. Could I lay my hands on your beautiful feet as I pray for you?”  She readily agreed.

I sat down on the carpet in front of her, but her feet were enclosed in fuzzy peach slippers. So, I put my hands on her ankles. They felt cold to my touch, but they warmed up as I held them and prayed. I began praying for her, praying for her to be able to shed the sadness that she’d experienced in her lifetime. I prayed for her to continue to lift her concerns up to Jesus because he cared for her.

Suddenly, I felt something stir deep within me: a subtle awareness of the disconnect between what I was praying for her and what I was personally experiencing in my own life. I felt so convicted that I needed to do what I was praying for her to be able to do. I needed to shed all the sadness I’d been carrying around from my decade-long career as a pastor that never quite fit right. I needed to shed my burdens from my past, my preoccupations over the future, my perpetual unease with my present.

I must have stopped praying – because I suddenly felt Dee place her gentle hand on the top of my head.  The roles unexpectedly reversed, and tears broke forth – from me. Something within me dislodged, and I couldn’t continue. I couldn’t keep praying through the tears. So, my patient started praying for me.  Her voice comforted me, and now it was her words that reassured me.  I was now the care recipient, and her soft voice spoke similar sentiments to what I’d just expressed. Except now she repeated the words Jesus’ said to her, “Everything’s going to be alright. You’re okay. God loves you. You can trust him.”

I honestly can’t remember exactly what she said, and I don’t know how long she prayed, or I cried. But I can tell you how I felt—like this chaplaincy work had been set up for my healing, and this was the work for me in this season. These patients were part of my healing, my restoration, and my experience of forgiveness.

God meant me to be there for them as much as he meant them to be there for me.

I cried harder than I expected, and she just kept stroking my hair, so gently. And touching my shoulders, just like I imagine my own grandmother would do if she lived nearby.

My tears ended somehow, and I wiped my eyes. I wrapped up our prayer time, with a softer voice, humbly thanking God from my heart for this powerful exchange and profound encounter. I opened my eyes at the end and looked straight up into Dee’s face, smiling into her blue eyes. I simply thanked her for ministering to me.

I gave her a hug and told her I’d come visit next month. I would bring my violin, and we could talk and pray together again.

I know that when I do, there will be mutual ministry between us, once again.  And in the meantime, great belovedness.

Tina grew up on Long Island, New York, in an intergenerational home of ethnically Chinese parents raised in Taiwan. After studying English literature at Harvard College, she went on staff with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship and served the multi-ethnic chapter for 6 years. In this capacity, she also ministered to the broader community as one of the Harvard Chaplains. 

Over the course of 12 years of local church ministry in the Bay Area, she ministered in a variety of ways as she completed her Master of Divinity at Fuller Theological Seminary. She has served as a pastor overseeing life groups, outreach, and discipleship.  She has also had significant seasons serving as an interim pastor in various contexts.  

As a wife and involved mother of three elementary-aged children, she is now focusing on the ministry of spiritual direction and serving the broader community as a chaplain. She loves to write, play volleyball, and puzzle with friends. She has benefitted greatly from several NEWIM retreats during her years of service, including the Writers' Getaway. Listen to her experience here.

Connect with her at christinetenghenson@gmail.com.