‘everyday theology’ posts are bite-sized ideas to chew on from scripture, from other works of theology, and from life. feel free to share wherever you hang out on the internet!
Paul’s contrast of the Spirit and flesh in Galatians is strong (and not without some dramatic language!) He uses the Greek word “pistis” (meaning: trust) in this context in chapter 3—challenging the Galatians on the issue of whether they would put their trust in the message of the gospel that they first believed (as Abraham did), or whether they would put their trust in the “works of the flesh” (likely, circumcision as an outward sign.)
To be “sons of Abraham” (3:6-9) means that our righteousness before God comes by way of our trusting in God. It is by faith (belief and trust working together) that we are made right before God and are able to live by the power of the Holy Spirit. Faith is the living out of belief, as we see exemplified in Abraham’s life. He trusted God.
Well, to be accurate, we are working with a good friend who is also a contractor and we are collaboratively building our future home.
This is the house in which we hope to see our boys grow into men; this is the one in which we hope to put down roots, both literally and metaphorically. This house is the house we’ve hoped for and prayed for and this is the house we’ve seen God miraculously provide for, every step of the way.
If you’ve been a Christian for more than five minutes, I would wager that (at least once) you’ve felt a certain back-of-the-brain creeping fear come over you. Quietly, unassumingly, a question emerges to the center stage of your heart: Am I doing what God wants me to do?
This was after he rode into Jerusalem, the city named for shalom~ so much more than peace, but completeness, wholeness, everything-made-right-ness~ on the back of a young donkey. This was after the women and men and children stood waiting for their Savior, eyes turned upward and palm leaves laid down in expectation. This was after a meal with his closest friends, the one where Mary slowly poured precious oil on his feet, the strong fragrance permeating every corner of the house. The friends could still catch a faint whiff of the scent, days later.
When I first got an account on Instagram, I didn’t think about it. I had a friend pressure me into it, telling me it was way better than Facebook. I said, OK, and signed up. And like most things in life, I was slow to the trend. I missed the first wave of blogging, I…
No matter how hard I tried
no matter how many to-do lists I made
no matter how many new dresses I bought
no matter how many new houses I moved into
or new jobs I took
or new creative projects I launched
nothing would give me freedom.
Nothing would relieve the dark blanket of depression that covered my days. Nothing would quench the deep thirst that I tried to satisfy with alcohol, with shiny new stuff, with other’s attention.
I took all three of my boys grocery shopping today.
If you are a Mom, you probably flinched at that, right? Michael and I try with everything in our scheduling power to make sure that one of us can do the weekly shopping sans little ones, but sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way.
Where do we place our hope? Is it kept in a fragile jar waiting patiently on the shelf? Hidden in an upward gaze? Emerging from a heart turned open and ready for joy? Where do we rest the very essence of our thought and feeling (and trust and desire) about what we deeply want to be true?