I love how sunflowers remind us to keep our faces lifted up, looking to Jesus throughout the day. Scientists call it heliotropism. Jesus calls it discipleship.

While running our race, we have to fix our eyes on what is unseen and eternal (2 Cor. 4:18, Heb. 12:1-2). Peter learned this that windy night while walking on the Sea of Galilee. "When he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, 'Lord, save me!'” Immediately, Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” (Matt. 14:30-31). That word, doubt, carries the idea of being pulled in two directions. We don't know which way to take (Vines). Doubting is when a believer wavers between trust and fear. Peter learned when he kept his gaze on Jesus he could fully trust, but when he looked away, there were plenty of reasons to fear. 

Practical atheism—saying we believe in God but living our lives as if he doesn't exist—is one of the challenges we face. We believe and then we don't. It was a problem for Peter, too. Remember what Jesus said to him after he tried to walk on water? "You of little faith...why did you doubt?" (Matt 14:31).

We want to live hour by hour aware of God's active presence, but it's challenging. Rolheiser says, "Learning to see the finger of God, divine providence, in the big and small events of our daily lives is the...spiritual exercise we must do to move beyond our practical atheism" (Shattered Lantern, p 170). So how do we learn to see God throughout the day?

Unearned suffering is redemptive. When we meet suffering with grace rather than bitterness, it transforms us into women our younger selves wouldn't recognize. So don't lose hope. God is at work in you, even in the mess—especially in the mess.

When we contemplate the cross and the empty tomb, we are gazing at one of the great mysteries of our faith for which we are forever grateful.

Yet, there is so much going on in our world for us to cry about. As you consider what may be weighing on your soul, perhaps the ancient practice of lament that Julia describes will be a prayer practice you would like to try.  Lament is our godly response to what's breaking our hearts.

God hears our cries. 

We often talk about the power of prayer and share stories  about godly men and women who moved mountains with their prayers. In Jr. High, I remember reading a book on prayer that encouraged me to claim the promise of James 5:16, "The fervent, effectual prayer of a righteous man availeth much." So, I prayed fervently, multiple times a day, the most effectual prayers I could

But today, we are waiting in this world of trouble. We are waiting through cancer treatments and leukemia diagnoses, strokes and caregiving, waiting through mediation and ice storms, waiting through losses and sorrow, outrage at injustice, waiting and waiting for what's not right to be made right and Jesus to be revealed.

"Only one life 'twill soon be past. Only what's done for Christ will last." Life is brief; invest wisely. What we do for Jesus lasts—it's valued and rewarded if it's done because we love (1 Corinthians 3:10-15; 13:1-13).

Yet we see Mary, graciously facing one hardship after another, one surprise after another, not seeking guarantees, but trusting. 

Something was missing! The way we had been discipled established a solid theological foundation, but it was incomplete. As many of us found, it left us focused on what was easy and external, while leaving unattended the weightier matters of the heart. Over and over, Jesus teaches us we need to pay attention to the inward movements of the heart. True growth happens in our inner spiritual life (see Matthew 23).

We may not see God, but he is right next to us. We may feel alone, but we are not. We may get discouraged because we aren't seeing the results we had hoped for, but we press on.

In my times of suffering, Jesus has used the love of my Christian sisters to love me on his behalf.

If we keep our eyes on Jesus and imitate his humility, by his strength we can go the extra mile and not be willing to let anything or anyone divide us. Humbling ourselves is key—let's stay focused on Jesus.

Advent for me is a time for pondering the tremendous mystery of the incarnation. The Source of all life takes on human flesh, develops in Mary’s womb, and is born a Jewish baby. How can this be?

This prayer draws my attention to the hearts of people “within my reach.” And I wonder, if I carefully look at all the people God has placed within my reach, is there someone far out on the margins who longs to be embraced, who is waiting there, hoping to be seen and welcomed in?

Has God given you something to do during this season of your life?

Moses was in mid-life, tending his father-in-law’s sheep when God called him. Moses saw a bush on fire, but it wasn’t burning up. He could have ignored this oddity out in the desert, but instead he walked over to check it out. It was then the Lord called to him “Moses! Moses!” God told him he was standing on holy ground, then he said, “I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt” (Exodus 3). Moses couldn't believe what he was hearing, but our omniscient God had a plan. 

Do you find your mind wanders when you are trying to listen to the Lord during prayer? The church fathers thought wandering thoughts were dangerous because they dissipate the warmth of the soul and our heart grows cool. As I read this, I was convicted. What should I do about my wandering thoughts?

The church fathers gave practical advice: Spend time focused on heightening your sense of the fear of the Lord.

When we bought our home, we had an inspector go through the house. He went under the house to check the foundation and found that over the last 28 years, the beams that supported the floor of our house were not tied securely to the foundation’s piers. The house would stand, but in the event of an earthquake, it may not hold together. We should have it looked at.
 
When was the last time you inspected your foundation? Many of us have been building our spiritual houses for 10, 20, 30, 50 years, so it may be time to climb under our houses, so to speak, and make sure everything is still tied together. I learned this the hard way twenty years ago.

Have you heard the story of the Hill of Crosses? There's a small hill in Lithuania where crosses were placed in the 1800s symbolizing people's faith and hope in God. During the first half of the Soviet occupation (1940-1990) most of the people from that area were deported to Siberia and died. In 1956 some survivors returned. They erected new crosses, dedicated to those who perished in the camps or who had fought for their Homeland. In the spring of 1961, the Soviets demolished and burned all of their crosses, and guards were posted so nobody could erect another one. Nevertheless, risking their lives, people erected new crosses.

It started out as my husband’s idea. Just an early morning adventure to view Los Angeles from the top of Mt. Wilson. We received much more than we had hoped for.

I remember feeling so disconnected from the Lord. I was actively involved in ministry but feeling totally out of it.  I had no idea what I needed, but I knew that I needed something. My husband was feeling the same thing. Our model for ministry was to give ourselves fully to loving people and teaching the Word. And five years into our ministry, we felt like we were going through the motions, doing the right activities but our hearts weren't in it. We knew something needed to change.

A story is told of a mother who pleaded with Abraham Lincoln on behalf of her son who had committed an act of treason. A war court found him guilty and sentenced him to hanging. His mother sought a pardon. Lincoln granted her request but said, "I wish we could give him a little bit of hanging." Sometimes, we, too, need half a hanging because nothing drives home the blessings of a pardon like standing on the block with the noose around your neck and hearing your sentence read. Thinking about God’s justice is like a little bit of hanging. 

Glorifying and enjoying our eternal God—what might that look like today?

What if we thought of our time of morning devotion as an activity designed to help us achieve what we have been designed for? What if we used our devotional time to find joy in the faithfulness of God, to experience joyous pleasure in his beauty as reflected in creation, and to find perfect love in Jesus? How might this approach to our time with God change us?

From Genesis to Revelation, God reveals himself as the Creator of the heavens and earth. I spent a year contemplating what difference it should make in our lives to know that our God is the Creator God. What I learned transformed my life.

On one level, we know a woman in America is expected to live about 80.2 years on average, but we really don’t know it; it feels like we’ll have tomorrow.

I remember being mocked the first time I went on a personal spiritual retreat. Everyone thought it was hilarious that I brought what looked like my entire library. I was “the bag lady” from then on. I had a wonderfully glorious day despite all of the teasing! Thirty years later, I’m still the bag lady. I never know what I’m going to feel like doing during my retreat, so I bring it all.