Illness / emcouragement

 Here are some deeply comforting and encouraging Bible verses for those facing illness—whether physical, emotional, or spiritual. These passages offer hope, peace, and assurance of God’s presence and care:

🌿 Promises of Healing and Restoration

• Jeremiah 30:17 — “But I will restore you to health and heal your wounds,” declares the Lord.

• Psalm 103:2–3 — Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits—who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases.

🕊️ Peace in the Midst of Suffering

• Isaiah 41:10 — So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

• John 14:27 — Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives.

Father God, we lift up Bruce and Ty to You.  You see every detail of what is happening with Bruce and You know the precise injury in Ty’s foot.  You are our Creator and You see everything in our makeup because You made us.  You are the Great Physician and oversee each influence in us and in us.  We do not understand why we must endure the hard things in our lives, but we trust You.  

Please bring healing to Ty as You work through his medical team.  Give Ty the patience and endurance he needs, empowering him to trust You above all else.  We are so thankful for his example of faith, hope and love to us as grandparents!  We couldn’t be more proud of who he is. 

We pray the same healing for Bruce, Lord.  May Your grace be infused into his life just as much as Your healing hands.  Help Bruce to trust You for every need, moving him to love You more than he ever has in his life.  Guide his medical team to find the right solution with the best outcome.  

Lord, we pray for Amy as well. Give her strength, endurance and patience as she tries to encourage two patients under the same roof!  May she experience Your presence like never before.  

💪 Strength and Endurance

• 2 Corinthians 12:9 — “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

• Isaiah 40:29–31 — He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak… those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.

❤️ God’s Nearness and Compassion

• Psalm 34:18 — The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

• Matthew 11:28–30 — Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

🌅 Hope Beyond the Present

• Romans 8:18 — I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.

• Revelation 21:4 — He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain.

Would you like verses tailored to a specific kind of illness—like chronic pain, emotional distress, or terminal diagnosis? I can also help craft a prayer or reflection based on these scriptures.

Gift of Time, Steve Porter

 “So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

Psalm 90:12 (NKJV)

“How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone.”
James 4:14 (NLT)

Beloved, there is a gift more precious than gold, more lasting than silver, more enduring than anything this world can buy. It is the gift of time.

Toward the end of my father’s journey, this was the treasure he gave me. For almost four years, as he lived under my roof, he was deeply aware that his days were numbered. And so, he was intentional. He poured himself into creating memories I could carry long after he slipped from my reach. Memories that would last my lifetime…and his into eternity.

I can still see those trips in my heart. We kept finding our way back to Ohio. Again and again. That was the place where so much of our family story had been written. We would find ourselves walking the quiet cemetery paths, and there before my mother’s stone Dad would stop. His steps slowed, his shoulders leaned forward a bit, and he just stood there. Almost sixty years of marriage pressed into that silence. Laughter. Tears. Trials overcome. Prayers whispered at midnight. All of it seemed to rest on his face in that moment. Sometimes a tear would slip down. Sometimes he would talk…soft words about the old days, about my mom’s smile, about things only the two of them shared. Then, with a sigh that seemed to come from deep inside, he would turn, and we’d continue on to the next place together.

Dad had a tradition that spoke volumes about his heart. With his carpenter’s hands, he built simple brown wooden crosses. Each had a small hole drilled into the top, holding a solar light that would glow in the dark. He stapled flowers to each one, plastic flowers that would withstand rain and snow. Together, we placed them at the graves of his family and my mother’s. What had begun as a tradition between husband and wife became a sacred duty between father and son. He showed me how to make them. He mentored me. And he left me with the charge: “Carry it on.” Yes, I will.

But the memories did not stop in Ohio. Dad also gave me Maine. Four different trips, each on a different route, because he wanted me to see everything that mattered to him. From Portland’s bustling harbor to the winding stretch of Route One that kissed the shore, we passed through seaside villages where clapboard houses leaned toward the sea and fishing boats bobbed in salt-stained docks. He showed me his favorite diners, where the fried fish sandwiches always seemed to taste better when eaten with sea air in your lungs. And finally, always, we reached Lubec…the easternmost town in the United States, his childhood home.

How can I put into words those conversations? The long hours on the road. The wisdom he poured into me. The way his voice softened when he spoke of faith, love, and the brevity of life. He knew. His body was already failing. The shadow of leukemia lengthened over him. But instead of retreating, he leaned in. Instead of wasting away, he invested. His treasure was not money, but memory.

We meandered back through the White Mountains of New Hampshire, past sleepy Vermont villages, white steeples pointing heavenward, and hillsides ablaze with maple trees. Even the winding roads became sacred when driven slowly with someone you love.

One month before he passed, we made our last Maine trip together. We ate again at Moody’s Diner and Helen’s Restaurant. We laughed at the little roadside shacks where the food was simple but perfect. We went whale watching on the Atlantic, the salty spray wetting our cheeks as those giants of the sea rose in majesty. We stood side by side at West Quoddy Head Lighthouse, the red-and-white stripes bright against the endless horizon. We crossed the bridge into Campobello Island. And though neither of us said it aloud, we both knew: this was the final journey.

And what a gift it was.

Dear one, hear my heart: the most precious gift you can give your loved ones is not things. Not possessions. Not even accomplishments. It is your time. We are all so busy, aren’t we? Work presses in. Responsibilities pile high. We crowd out what truly matters. We promise ourselves “someday,” but someday rarely comes. And before we know it, the window has closed.

Life is a vapor. The clock does not stop. But you can choose what you do with the hours you are given. Time invested in those you love will become a fragrance that lingers when you are gone. A hand held. A story told. A journey taken together. These are the memories that live on when everything else fades away.

Slow down, friend. Don’t rush past the moments that matter. Stop long enough to notice the yellow roses by the side of the road. Take the time to laugh a little. Don’t be afraid to cry. Sit and listen when someone needs to talk. Share what’s in your heart with the ones God has placed in your life. Most of all make room for family. 

Because one day, when your journey here is over, nobody in your family will be clinging to the trophies you earned or the houses you built. What your children will carry in their hearts is simpler, yet far more lasting. They’ll remember the sound of your voice. They’ll remember the warmth of your presence. And above all, they’ll remember the gift of your time.

Today is my father’s funeral, and I have the honor of officiating the service. I would deeply appreciate your prayers.

With Love,
Steve Porter
www.morningglorydevo.com

Christian Natuonalism

 Paul Dazet

The question comes up everywhere now.

In coffee shops after service.

In small group discussions.

In late-night texts from worried church members.

People see the news.

They watch the rallies.

They notice the flags and crosses side by side.

They hear politicians invoking Jesus.

And they wonder:

Is this what Christianity looks like now?

The Scene at the Capitol

January 6, 2021.

A wooden cross next to a gallows.

Christian flags flying beside Confederate flags.

“Jesus Saves” banners carried by people calling for blood.

Prayers offered in Jesus’ name

While police officers were beaten unconscious.

Sociologists Philip Gorski and Samuel Perry in The Flag and the Cross call it 

“an eruption of white Christian nationalism.”

The symbols told the story.

The cross had become a sword.

The gospel had become a weapon.

Jesus had been enlisted for insurrection.

And many of us watching felt something break inside.

Because that wasn’t the Jesus we know.

That wasn’t the gospel we’ve staked our lives on.

That wasn’t the kingdom we’ve been seeking.

The Mythology

Christian Nationalism tells a story.

Once upon a time, America was a Christian nation.

Founded by Christian men.

Blessed by the Christian God.

Governed by Christian principles.

But then the secularists came.

The liberals.

The immigrants.

The “others.”

They stole our country.

Corrupted our culture.

Attacked our faith.

Replaced our people.

Now we must take it back.

By any means necessary.

Because God is on our side.

As Kaitlyn Schiess shows in The Ballot and the Bible, even Scripture has been recruited to tell this myth, phrases like “city on a hill” torn from Jesus’ lips and used to baptize American exceptionalism.

The False Gospel

But here’s what troubles me most as a pastor:

This story isn’t just wrong historically.

It’s wrong biblically.

Jesus said love your enemies.

Christian Nationalism says defeat them.

Jesus said the last shall be first.

Christian Nationalism insists we stay on top.

Jesus said blessed are the peacemakers.

Christian Nationalism prepares for war.

Jesus said my kingdom is not of this world.

Christian Nationalism says this world is our kingdom.

Christian Nationalism is not Christianity.

It is a counterfeit.

The Price We’ve Paid

The cost has been enormous.

Whitehead and Perry’s research shows 

Christian Nationalism predicts support for: 

Authoritarianism, 

Voter suppression, 

And even political violence.

But the deeper cost is spiritual.

We’ve lost sight of Jesus.

We’ve wrapped him in flags.

We’ve turned him into a weapon.

We’ve trained generations to equate following Christ with fighting their neighbors.

And young people are walking away.

Not from Jesus,

But from the Jesus we created.

The Real Tragedy

Here’s what breaks my heart:

Christian Nationalism isn’t preserving Christianity.

It’s destroying it.

It’s not protecting the gospel.

It’s perverting it.

It’s not advancing the kingdom.

It’s abandoning it.

As Brian Zahnd says in Postcards from Babylon:

We’ve traded the way of the cross

For the way of the sword.

We’ve exchanged the kingdom of God

For the kingdoms of this world.

We’ve chosen Caesar’s power

Over Christ’s love.

The True Gospel

But here’s what gives me hope:

Jesus is bigger than our politics.

The gospel is stronger than our nationalism.

The kingdom outlasts every empire.

The same gospel that confronted first-century power structures

Can confront twenty-first-century idolatries.

The same Spirit that sustained the early church

Can sustain us now.

The Choice Before Us

So we have a choice to make.

We can keep defending Christian Nationalism.

Or we can start following Jesus again.

We can keep fighting culture wars.

Or we can start building beloved community.

We can keep trying to save America.

Or we can let America be saved by Jesus.

Because the world doesn’t need another political religion.

The world needs the wild, dangerous, beautiful, transformative love of Jesus.

What It’s Not

Before we go further, let me be clear about what this isn’t:

This isn’t about being anti-American.

This isn’t about hating conservatives.

This isn’t about blaming liberals.

This isn’t about dismissing patriotism.

This isn’t about partisanship.

This is about untangling Jesus from the things that obscure him.

This is about recovering the gospel from those who weaponize it.

This is about following Jesus even when, especially when, it costs us something.

The Hope

Here’s what I’ve learned in my own journey of unlearning and relearning:

Jesus is still Jesus.

The gospel is still good news.

The kingdom is still coming.

Even when, especially when, his people get it wrong.

Even when we wrap him in flags.

Even when we enlist him for our agendas.

Even when we make him into our image.

Jesus remains Jesus.

And he’s still calling us.

Beyond nationalism to the nation of God’s love.

Beyond empire to the kingdom of heaven.

Beyond power to love.

The Invitation

So here’s my invitation:

Let’s meet Jesus again. For the first time.

Let’s read the Gospels with fresh eyes.

Let’s ask what he actually said instead of what we wish he said.

Let’s follow where he leads instead of trying to lead him where we want to go.

Because the Jesus problem in America isn’t that we’ve lost Jesus.

It’s that we’ve tried to domesticate him.

But Jesus won’t be domesticated.

He won’t be tamed.

He won’t be used.

He remains wild.

Dangerous.

Free.

And he’s calling us to be free too.

Free from nationalism.

Free from false gospels.

Free from the seductive power of Caesar’s kingdom.

Free to follow the way of the cross.

Free to live the way of love.

Free to be the people of God, 

In the world, but not of it.

Friendships / Commjnity

 We live in a world full of noise, yet loneliness is at an all-time high. Many believers long for friendships that are more than surface-level. You want people who pray for you, walk with you, and remind you of God’s truth when you forget it yourself.

But here’s the problem. Friendships like that don’t come easy. They require time, trust, and intentional effort. And often, we don’t know where to start.

This might surprise you, but pastors can feel deeply disconnected.

We show up. We smile. We serve. We pray with people as they pour out their struggles.

But what happens when we’re the ones struggling? When we need community?

Being a pastor can be lonely. 

There are seasons when I’ve felt cut off from the very people I serve. I’ve longed for deeper friendships, yet those connections often felt just out of reach.

Part of the challenge is the strange tension of being both a pastor and a friend.

People wonder, “If I share this, will it end up in a sermon?” Or they keep me at arm’s length, treating me like a spiritual leader but not like a person. At times, I’m left wondering: am I being invited in as a friend, or am I simply filling the role of “pastor”?

For someone who’s always been in leadership, always on staff, always carrying purpose, finding genuine friendships has never come easy.

But I have found them. And that gives me hope. It took time to build those friendships, and they didn’t happen overnight. Even now, my friends understand that I go through seasons where I’m not as responsive as I’d like to be. Yet when we check in, we pick up right where we left off.

That kind of grace-filled friendship is rare, but it’s real. And if God has provided it for me, He can do the same for you.

One of the clearest examples of godly friendship is the bond between David and Jonathan.

Jonathan was King Saul’s son, the rightful heir to the throne. David was the shepherd boy anointed by God to be king. By all logic, they should have been rivals. But scripture tells us, 

1 Sam 18:1

That word “knit” paints a powerful picture. Their lives were woven together by something stronger than circumstance. This was not a casual friendship. It was a covenant. Jonathan even gave David his robe, armor, and sword (1 Samuel 18:4). That act was symbolic of surrendering his right to the throne and acknowledging God’s hand on David’s life.

Jonathan risked everything to protect David, even when it meant defying his own father. He chose loyalty to God’s will over his own advancement. David, for his part, never forgot Jonathan’s kindness. Years later, when Jonathan was gone, David sought out his son Mephibosheth. Instead of eliminating a rival to the throne, David chose to show kindness for Jonathan’s sake (2 Samuel 9:7).

Their story reminds us that real friendship is not built on convenience. It is built on covenant. It means showing up when it costs you something. It means choosing faithfulness over personal gain. It means loving someone enough to put their good above your own comfort.

In a world where many relationships are disposable, Jonathan and David show us a friendship that mirrors God’s own covenant love. 

It is faithful, sacrificial, and enduring.

https://open.substack.com/pub/faithunplugged/p/why-you-cant-find-real-community?r=43vew&utm_medium=ios

- Chris McKinney

Transormation

 Romans 12:2

[2] Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

Father, empower me to discern how I have been confirmed to the ways of this world. 

I was born into a broken, sin drenched family, community and culture. 

Choosing to follow Christ and His ways has been a driving force in me, thanks to the pull and push by the Holy Spirit. 

I’ve been slow to recognize the impact of my imperfect background on my heart and mind. 

I used to think You, Fatger, were distant and waiting for me to make mistakes. 

I thought You were continually saying ‘you could do better if you tried harder!’

The shame and guilt I brought on to myself said that I could never measure up to Your expectations. 

I now recognize these thoughts only make me doubt You and Your live. 

Forgive me, Lord, for having the wrong view of who You are. You are not like the God I thought You were. 

I imagined that I could not meet the expectations of my parents nor my own ideals. 

I constantly compared myself to others instead of fixing my eyes on You. 

Thank You for continually reminding me of Your presence. 

You will never leave me or abandon me. Your love is everlasting, far beyond my imagination. 

Father, I used to think that I should be better, do better, by trying harder. 

“The Word of God also does something in our spiritual formation that even the most clever psychologist or spiritual guru cannot accomplish. God uses it to reveal secrets, things even secret to us about ourselves. It can reveal to us motivations, both selfish and spiritual. And as the following passage says, “Before him no creature is hidden, but all are open and laid bare to the eyes of him with whom we have to do” (Hebrews 4:13, RSV).”

Excerpt From

The Kingdom Life

Dallas Willard

https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-kingdom-life/id833813774

This material may be protected by copyright.

Brandon Robinson

You were fashioned for forward.

Your eyes face the front.

Vision was never meant for the past.

Your ears lean forward, tuned for the Word ahead, not the noise behind.

Your arms swing forward, built to reach, not retreat.

Your knees bend forward, made to walk into destiny, not back into bondage.

Everything in you was designed for tomorrow.

Stop staring at yesterday when God is calling you forward.

Graham Hill

Obedience to Christ makes empathy essential. The command to love God and neighbor demands that we enter the joys and sorrows of others just as Christ entered ours. To carry another’s pain is to walk the road Jesus walked, the road of the crucified and risen one who embraced all that is human with redeeming love.

Rooted in the gospel, empathy reveals the holiness of God. It embodies incarnate love where truth and mercy meet. It listens without surrendering discernment, and it acts with a courage that accepts cost. Such empathy, shaped by the cross, doesn’t leave us overwhelmed by tears; it immerses us in the living waters of Christ’s compassion, from which justice, healing, and hope rise.

A Witness / Brandon Robinson

 I was getting dressed in the gym locker room, getting ready for work.

A young Black man with dreads was cleaning up—he had just started working at the gym.

We said a quick hello.

Then a man in his early twenties walked by.

The young man with locs (dreads), stopped him gently:

“Hey—what’s your name?”

“Mike,” the guy replied.

He looked him in the eye and said gently:

“Mike, man… Jesus really loves you. You have purpose all over your life. I just need you to know that. ”

Mike lit up.

They started talking about what God was doing in his life—right there, between the lockers and the noise.

 And I realized:

That young man wasn’t just cleaning a locker room.

He was clearing a path for the love of Jesus.

I met him afterward. His name is Dre.

He’s kind. He’s funny. He loves Jesus unapologetically.

I want to be like Dre when I grow up.

There’s a new wave coming.

A remnant rising.

People who shine their light in locker rooms and lunchrooms and late shifts.

People who carry heaven with them wherever they go.

May we be among them.

Do the work - Chuck DeGroat

 Decades ago - before Facebook and Twitter and Instagram - I counseled a woman who’d been sexually and spiritually abused by a longtime father-figure and pastor. Within months of beginning our work, she shifted from despair to decisive action, deciding rather abruptly to start a non-profit championing abused women. 

And I cheered her on. 

Within a year, though, many who’d joined her in the work were quitting, not least because they found her leadership to be reactive and hostile. Some even named it as abusive, as she - now the one in power - inflicted harm. 

Her rush to help, even amidst unhealed wounds, seemed noble - even to me. But it was tumultuous at best, and toxic at worst. 

I learned a lot through that experience of championing her efforts - and I apologized to her. 

What I learned is that unhealed wounds will always leak into our leadership, no matter how noble our cause. I learned that the work we do in the world must be matched by the work we do within ourselves, or else our efforts will be reactive rather than redemptive. 

What I see now is that I should’ve encouraged her slow, steady work - recognizing that the parts of her rushing to right wrongs were acting from a primal fight response within, not from a place of integrity and wholeness. 

Here’s the point: Those of us in these helping spaces aren’t immune to issues of character. We’re not immune to poor boundaries and projection, countertransference and coercion, using and abusing. 

In fact, today - when trauma “experts” and abuse advocates and therapist influencers are filling our social feeds - I find myself in more and more conversations related to misconduct, malfeasance, and misuse of power within the helping professions. While much of my abuse-consultancy work has been with pastors through the years, in just the last two years I’ve seen a major uptick in challenging situations involving educators, counselors, advocates, non-profit leaders, and social media self-help gurus. 

Many of you know that I just submitted a book on character formation to my publisher - which I’ll be highlighting in my Substack in the months to come. Here’s a reflection from it: 

Even self-awareness itself seems to have become a commodity – marketed, platformed, and repackaged, sometimes fueling the same narcissism we sought to escape. Caught up in the same attention-economy that is discipling our scattered minds, manifesting in performative ways of leading and caring that are just surface-deep.

As a longtime pastor, I feel a certain permission to name the harm of pastors - and I’ve done that in various ways over the years, not least in When Narcissism Comes to Church. As a veteran of 25+ years as a licensed therapist and a seminary educator, I feel the same permission with regard to a wider swath of helping professions. We are not immune - and with the power we hold, we have the capacity to steward great healing or cause great harm. 

Can you imagine the compounded trauma of those harmed by folks who are supposed to be safe, supposed to be healers? 

And the number of stories is growing. 

A prominent therapist-influencer cited for boundary and ethical violations. The longtime leader of the American Association of Christian Counselors called to account for dozens of plagiarism violations. The leader of a progressive org developed to advocate for the marginalized found to have engaged in behavioral misconduct. A prominent abuse podcaster’s confessions of longtime pornography addiction, lies, and marital rupture undermining the trust of the very women he sought to advocate for. And so many more, most brewing behind-the-scenes, without public awareness or account. One of the few working in this space and highlighting these stories is Leah Denton, who I connected with for her podcast some time ago. 

There are many reasons why harm perpetrated by helpers is particularly noxious. But what’s striking to me is just how many people get into this work without doing the work. 

I’ve told the story often of my first PhD cohort in 2005, many who were therapists - and likely one of the most toxic groups I’ve ever been in. I watched people who were entrusted with the most vulnerable souls act out their own unresolved pain in real time. The envy, competitiveness, and passive-aggressive power plays in that room were staggering. Here were people trained to listen, to attune, to bear witness - and yet so many were caught up in their own internal storms, acting out of their unresolved pain. 

It left me wondering: How can those who have never confronted their own shadow hold space for someone else’s?

This is why character formation matters so deeply. 

Skills, training, presence – even theological brilliance or psychological expertise – are never enough. When the inner life is neglected, our leadership will be reactive rather than redemptive.

We see this everywhere today.

· Performative empathy on social media masking profound emptiness.

· Boundaryless advocacy devolving into savior complexes.

· Unprocessed grief and rage disguised as prophetic zeal.

And here’s the paradox: the very work of healing often attracts those who have been profoundly wounded. There’s nothing wrong with that - in fact, it can be redemptive. Many of the most gifted counselors, pastors, and advocates I know were drawn to this work because they know pain from the inside. I think of my clinical counseling students in our program at Western, challenged to do their own work in order to engage this work of soul care more faithfully. 

It’s when the pain goes unnamed and unintegrated that helpers are prone to harm. 

Unhealed wounds don’t just leak - they flood. And when they do, whole communities can drown.

This is why our work as helpers must always be twofold:

1. Doing the outer work of advocacy, therapy, teaching, preaching, and leading.

2. Doing the inner work of integration, wound-tending, shadow reckoning, and character formation.

When these two are held together, the work becomes sustainable, safe, and deeply transformational. When they are split apart, the results are catastrophic.

So my plea – to myself and to all of us – is this: slow down. Tend to your inner life with the same diligence you give to your outer work. Don’t mistake performative action for authentic transformation.

Because the world doesn’t just need more helpers. It needs whole helpers – people whose presence is healing because they’ve experienced it personally - at the depths. 

______

Diane Langberg

 A good portion of Christendom today seems to serve their political beliefs. It seems the political system has become so important to us that we act and speak in ungodly ways to protect what we have labeled godly. 

Our politics are not our Christ.

Tyler Todt - Radical

 I'm RADICALIZED.

After what's transpired & what I've seen there is no turning back.

I'm going to RADICALLY study & emulate Jesus.

I'm going to RADICALLY be the hands & feet.

I'm going to RADICALLY & boldly preach Jesus until my last breath.

I'm going to RADICALLY love people & pray for my enemies. 

(Perhaps the hardest one, but blessed are the peacemakers).

I'm going to RADICALLY stand in truth & never apologize for it.

I'm going to RADICALLY serve my family, community, & be IMMERSED in the LIVING WORD OF GOD!

I'm going to RADICALLY pursue with every fiber of my being the divine mission God created me for & lead my family & everyone around me to the TRUTH.

I'm going to RADICALLY eliminate every distraction that gets in the way of my divine mission & lead others to Jesus.

I'm going to Radically plant so many seeds & never tire because the same POWER that defeated death LIVES IN ME!!!

Paul said,

"For to me LIVE, to live is CHRIST & to die is gain."

This will be a big TURNING POINT in my life, faith, & mission.

I pray our nation & world will see a revival unlike any other.

Imagine a revival so powerful it cannot be ignored.

Imagine Bible studies in public places, leading prayers everywhere in the open,  & inviting the Holy Spirit into every place we go.

We cannot solve spiritual problems politically.

There is ONE NAME ABOVE ALL NAMES & He alone is who will have the final word.

I invite you to join me in this RADICAL mission.

It starts with one prayer.

The time for Luke warm is OVER.

Draw your line & choose your side.

The path is narrow, terrifying, unpredictable, & not for the weak.

Come be RADICAL with me & serve our King Jesus.

Bob Goff - Kindness

 Prov 11:17

Page 252

Sometimes we seem to think we need to be Jesus’ lawyer. Here’s the problem:  we’re not good enough, and He doesn’t need one. Maybe we think we need to protect baby Jesus in the manger, but if we read the book of Revelation, we know He’s out of the crib, is a ferocious lion, and so a pretty good job sticking up for Himself. Perhaps we what we should do is follow the words of Peter in the Bible, when he urged his friends to revere Christ and engage people around them with gentleness and respect. Carving this new groove in our minds will take soMe humility. Come in with the mindset of a sure t, not a guest lecturer in seines life. 

Bob Goff - good things

 1 cor 1:28-29 p245

“God made it so that ordinary people like us could live extraordinary lives. I am certain, however His intent was not that we could make a big deal about ourselves but that we could give credit to Him. Maybe we aren’t the smartest or the most popular or have the last name everyone recognizes and makes a big deal about, but God uses what we think of as unimportant to fake out the people who think they have all the right answers. He uses the less powerful things to confuse the powerful people, and He uses the things people bad-mouth to baffle the ones who thought they had life all figured out. The reason He does this isn’t to fool us or prove any point that this:  we have nothing to boast about but Him.” - Bob Goff, page 245, Catching Whimsey

1 Corinthians 1:28-29. “God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.”

Healing Quiet

 “Be still, and know that I am God.”

Psalm 46:10 (NKJV)

I walked down a hospital hallway recently and noticed a small sign. Simple. Unassuming. Yet it caught my eye.

It read… Quiet hospitals help heal.

That phrase stirred in my heart.

It makes sense, doesn’t it?

You wouldn’t host a loud party in the ICU.

You wouldn’t march a parade into a trauma ward.

No… when someone is wounded, they need quiet.

They need space to recover.

They need the hush of healing.

And dear one… is it not the same with the soul?

When your heart is bruised.

When your spirit feels torn.

When life has trampled on your chest and breath is hard to catch… what you need most is divine rest. The shalom of God. 

Not noise.

Not endless activity.

Not constant chatter.

But quiet.

Divine quiet.

The kind that soothes, like cool water on a fevered brow.

I think of the Quakers.

For centuries they practiced what was called quietism.

They believed that in the stillness, one could hear the “Inner Light” of Christ.

No pulpit pounding. No constant speaking.

Just silence… until the Spirit Himself stirred a word.

They gathered in meeting houses where they sat, waiting quietly, listening for that holy whisper.

Quietism did not end with the Quakers.

In France, hearts aflame for God embraced the same spirit.

Madame Jeanne Guyon taught that one must come before God in silence, abandoning the noisy strivings of self, to let His presence wash over the soul.

François Fénelon, a bishop with a tender spirit, carried that same truth: that stillness is not passivity but surrender…an unclenching of the fists so that God may take hold of the heart.

They joined the chorus of the deeper life, echoing that holy secret: to be quiet is to be healed.

Why be quiet?

Because God whispers in stillness.

Why wait on Him?

Because His presence restores what nothing else can.

Why enter rest?

Because that is where broken hearts find repair.

The deeper life has always known this secret.

That there is a holy hush.

A sacred stillness.

A place where the Bride waits for the Bridegroom.

Where she beholds His beauty… not in the rush, but in the pause.

Where His manifest presence flows…not through the noise of striving, but through the resting of a yielded soul.

Beloved, the hospital understands it.

Quiet heals the body.

But why don’t we understand?

Quiet in His presence heals the heart.

Quiet in His presence heals the mind.

Quiet in His presence heals the soul.

So bring Him your brokenness.

Hold your cracked, weary heart up to Him.

Sit in the hush.

Wait in the stillness.

And let the Great Physician restore you.

The Father is not in the earthquake.

He is not in the fire.

He is not in the whirlwind.

He is in the gentle whisper.

That whisper is calling you now.

Into the quiet of His presence. 

Into the rest.

Into the healing embrace of Jesus.

Stop.

Rest.

Behold Him.

Let His silence become your song.

And you will find what the loudness of the world can never give…divine healing.

Hush your heart, beloved… He is near.

Hush your striving… He is speaking.

Hush your fears… He is holding you.

Hush your brokenness… He is healing you.

Quiet hospitals help heal.

But more than that… quiet hearts help heaven touch earth.

So bow low.

Be still.

And let the whisper of His love wash over you.

With Love,

Steve Porter

www.morningglorydevo.com

We are tired

 Aaron Salvato

Lord, we are tired.

Our hearts are heavy with sorrow for the brokenness of this world.

We are tired of division.

Tired of hate.

Tired of endless wars waged between image-bearers.

We long for peace.

We cry out for justice.

We ache for a world where evil has no home.

We dream of a Kingdom ruled by love.

But that dream feels distant, when all we see each day is violence and strife.

We are poor in spirit.

Burned out.

Anxious.

Depressed.

Empty.

We confess… we cannot make it without you.

We mourn.

We mourn the deaths.

We mourn the violence.

We mourn the disunity, even in our mourning.

We can’t even agree on what… or who… is worth mourning.

We have forgotten how to mourn with those who mourn.

Lord, have mercy.

We want to hunger and thirst for righteousness… 

but too often, we chase the appearance of being right in the eyes of those we fear rather than genuine righteousness.

We crave validation more than transformation.

We aren’t willing to pay the hard cost of helping lead others into true righteousness… right relationship with You, the Father, and with others.

We fear man more than we fear you.

We fear the threat of our enemies.

We fear the disapproval of our allies.

Lord, we are sorry.

Yet deep down, many of us want to do what is right.

We want to honor you.

We want to follow your teachings.

We want to be a light in this dark and fractured world.

But it feels so hard.

When your people can’t even agree on what the light actually is.

Jesus, humble us.

Show each of us where we are weak,

where we need to repent,

where we need to renew our minds.

Teach us to shine your light wherever you’ve placed us.

Lord, we are like the moon.

Without the Son we hang in darkness. 

Be the light. Reflect off us the love that comes from within you.

Help us proclaim the gospel of the Kingdom with boldness, not performance.

Help us speak honestly about our sin.

About how you saved us.

About how your mercy reshaped us.

Let that truth, not our pride, be what stirs others to repentance and new life.

Teach us to love fiercely.

To love one another.

To love our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Let the world see our love for one another.

And also… let them see our love for our enemies.

A love that defies logic.

A love that says,

“I’m willing to suffer…

if it means you might come to know the truth of the gospel

and the overwhelming love of Christ.”

Humble us, Lord.

Help us show up…daily, faithfully… for the people you place in our path.

Help us encourage the disheartened,

strengthen the weak,

and set the table even for those who’ve hurt us.

We need you.

We can’t do this without you.

We aren’t strong enough.

Lord, have mercy.

Give us strength for the days ahead.

Help us remember

we do not need to fear the world.

Because you have overcome it.

Amen. 

Slow to Speak

Aaron Salvato

“Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath:”

James 1:19, KJV

Slowness to speak is a virtue, not something to be ashamed of.

Over the past few days, I’ve had long, honest conversations with several young people…. some still in their teens, others in their early twenties. They’re overwhelmed, heavy-hearted, and exhausted. Not just because of the state of the world, but because of the PRESSURE they feel to say something about it. 

Immediately. Publicly. Perfectly.

Before they’ve had time to pray, to think, to grieve, or even to understand, they feel dragged into a war of optics and urgency. The second tragedy strikes, the demand arises:

“Why haven’t you posted?”

“Where’s your statement?”

“Your silence is evil.”

It’s the liturgy of our age: signal, perform, declare your alignment. And if you don’t? You’re labeled complicit, apathetic, cowardly, or worse.

This performative pressure doesn’t just come from one political direction. I see it coming from every side. From progressives and conservatives alike, from all corners of the spectrum, shouting in unison: “If you do not say something the right way and right now, then you are part of the problem.” 

And the effect on young hearts and minds is DEVASTATING.

They’re being told, “If you don’t speak out, you’re letting the enemy win.” 

So they speak, usually before they’re ready. And the moment they do, they’re sucked into a digital vortex:

Angry comments, arguments, misinterpretations, endless DMs.

People projecting, people attacking.

Strangers declaring them the enemy.

Family members pushing back.

Sleepless nights defending themselves at 3am in a thread they never wanted to be in.

In some cases, I’ve even seen young people take private conversations with family…often well-meaning but clumsy attempts to process hard things… and post them online. 

Dragging family pain into the public square as rage fuel for strangers to feast on.

None of this is healthy. None of this is helping. And none of this is what these young souls were made for.

This morning, my wonderful mother and I were texting about all of this… about how before the rise of social media, the human soul only had to carry a few burdens at a time. 

You’d hear about a couple of major world events on the radio, or catch a story in the local paper. 

You might talk it through with a friend, your pastor, your spouse. And that was enough to grieve through for the week, or even the month.

But now? We carry everything. Every heartbreak, every horror, every opinion, every reaction. We scroll through a digital flood of rage, confusion, division, violence, and grief… and we absorb it instantly. It doesn’t even give us the dignity of time.

We’ve handed our young people something like dark psychic powers… 

These glowing rectangles in their pockets instantly tell them what every person they know thinks, feels, and argues about. 

Everyone. Influencers, politicians, armchair theologians, anonymous mobs.

They open their phone, and within seconds, they’re flooded with pain and outrage that no single soul was meant to carry.

That doesn’t mean we should ignore what’s happening in the world. It doesn’t mean we stick our heads in the sand. But we must teach the next generation that:

It is not your job to fix the world.

Jesus already took that job.

And he’s not behind.

He’s not panicking.

He’s redeeming, healing, restoring.

And yes, he’s inviting you to join him… but on his terms, not the algorithm’s.

If we keep throwing ourselves into the frontlines of every cultural battle, unarmed with the Spirit of Christ, we will never learn to live out his radical ethic of enemy love. 

Taking time to sit with God in silence and grief is not apathy. It is formation. It is what Jesus himself did… he withdrew to the wilderness to commune with the Father and cry out over all that is wrong with the world. 

If the Son of God had to retreat to pray, why do we think we can heal the world without doing the same?

So to the young person reading this:

You are allowed to be quiet.

You are allowed to take time.

You are allowed to pray before posting.

You are allowed to choose peace over performance.

Jesus said, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

You don’t need to keep bleeding for the internet.

And you were never meant to carry this all alone.

10 Writing Promots

 1. What does strength look like when no one’s watching?

Write about a moment you were proud of yourself that no one else saw.

2. Who do you pretend to be and why?

Are there versions of you that show up in certain rooms? What are you afraid would happen if you were just you?

3. What wound still influences how you lead, love, or live?

Dig into a past hurt that still echoes today. What would healing look like?

4. How do you measure success, and is it killing you?

Write about the scoreboard you're using. Who gave it to you? Who are you trying to impress?

5. When was the last time you felt truly at peace?

Describe it in detail. Where were you? What made that moment different?

6. What does being a man of God mean in this season?

Not the churchy answer. Your answer. Raw, honest, and practical.

7. What are you avoiding, and how does that shape your story?

Write about the conversation, decision, or habit you’ve been putting off.

8. What kind of legacy do you want to leave? What needs to change to make that happen?

Fast forward. What do people say about you when you're gone?

9. Where do you feel behind, and who told you you were supposed to be ahead?

Unpack the pressure. Is it real or imagined?

10. What do you need from God right now, but haven’t dared to ask for?

Write the prayer you’ve been too scared or too tired to pray.

Spiritual exercise

 Trevor Hudson - sharingbprayer experiences

https://open.substack.com/pub/trevorhudson/p/building-a-bridge-between-christ?r=43vew&utm_medium=ios

Serious seekers after God from all traditions have a deeply- felt need to be in conversation with another Christ-follower about their relationship with God. On the one hand, having this kind of conversation with someone who listens without judgement to your prayer-experience can be a great gift. We do not have many safe spaces where we can speak about matters of the soul. When we can have such sacred conversations, our friendship with God deepens.