Skip to main content

Posts

Week 1 (February): No Quick Fix for Grief — Naming Loss as Long Faithfulness

  Grief carries more than pain—it carries pressure. The quiet expectation that you should be “doing better” by now. Even when no one says it, we feel it in the questions:  Are you okay? Are you back to normal? Have you found closure? Are you moving on? But grief isn’t a problem to solve. It’s a relationship to honor. And faithfulness often looks like staying—staying present, staying honest, staying connected to God—long after the first wave of support has passed. This month’s theme is  No Quick Fix for Grief , and this first week begins with a simple, courageous practice: Name the loss. Not to get stuck—just to tell the truth, so your soul doesn’t have to carry unspoken sorrow. Naming can be an act of love. And sometimes, an act of worship. The Lie Grief Whispers: “If I Name It, I’ll Break” Many of us learned to avoid naming what hurts. We default to “I’m fine,” spiritual shortcuts, or silver linings. Underneath is a fear:  If I name it, I’ll fall apart. So we stay b...
Recent posts

The Work of a Steady Heart: Staying the Course in a Loud Week

Some weeks don’t feel like a “news cycle.” They feel like a nervous system test. You can sense it in the way people drive. In the edge in conversations. In the temptation to either consume everything or shut down completely. This past week carried that kind of weight: a massive winter storm threatening huge stretches of the U.S.  … public protest and debate around immigration enforcement in Minnesota  … global uncertainty surfacing in Davos  … and ongoing questions about what “rebuilding” even means in Gaza.  And in the middle of all that, I keep hearing our theme for the year like a gentle interruption: No Quick Fix in 2026. Not because we don’t care. Not because we’re disengaged. But because quick fixes—hot takes, panic-scrolling, instant certainty—rarely produce peace. They produce heat. So this week, I want to offer a slightly different direction than “keep up with everything.” What if staying the course looks less like tracking every headline… and mor...

Beginning Again Without Fixing Everything

There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that doesn’t come from doing too much—it comes from trying to fix too much. Not just your schedule. Not just your habits. But yourself. Beginning again can sound hopeful… until it turns into pressure: If I’m starting over, I need to do it right this time. And “right” quietly becomes “everything.” Fix everything. Improve everything. Solve everything. Heal everything. If you’re standing at the edge of a new season—new week, new year, or just a new morning—and you feel that weight, hear this: You can begin again without fixing everything. Beginning Again Is Often Just Returning The quiet life with Jesus is less about dramatic overhauls and more about steady returns. Return to prayer when you’ve forgotten. Return to Scripture when you’ve been scattered. Return to rest when you’ve been running. Return to grace when shame gets loud. This isn’t failure. It’s formation. Sometimes “beginning again” is simply choosing to return—without a s...